I don't understand where some people are coming from.... What ever happened to The Golden Rule? "A key element of the golden rule is that a person attempting to live by this rule treats all people, not just members of his or her in-group, with consideration". Humm, consideration? How long ago did this fall out of fashion?
"The golden rule has its roots in a wide range of world cultures, and is a standard which different cultures use to resolve conflicts; it was present in the philosophies of ancient Judaism, India, Greece, and China. Principal philosophers and religious figures have stated it in different ways, but its most common English phrasing is attributed to Jesus of Nazareth in the Biblical book of Luke: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. The "Do unto others" wording first appeared in English in a Catholic Catechism around 1567, but certainly in the reprint of 1583."
Hate seems to be everywhere these days. Church members at each other throats over minutiae, doctrine overtaking the principles of religion. To me all of the main themes of every religion I have looked at say the same thing our mothers said to us. Don't hit, don't hurt, be nice to each other. (well not my mother, but you get the point)
Why is a personal view, now more important than societies view? If you could excise the rhetoric from any argument, presenting only the facts, cleanly and clearly, many good laws would be voted in, and many bad laws would be gone in a heart beat.
Laws that segregate our people, by color, by age, by sexual orientation, by ability, only breeds more dislike and distrust of the others.
Two of our sons were classified as 'gifted', their IQ's are in the high 160's. There is no money in many schools for enriching gifted children, it all is allocated for the 'special needs' children. More children classified as 'gifted' drop out of school, because of boredom, than any other classified group of children. And when we asked for some help for our terminally bored sons, the special needs parents attacked us with a vengeance! Rather than making it a priority to make each child's school experience the best possible, we are reduced to fighting each other for scraps.
Teen aged drivers have more accidents per mile driven than any other age group, mainly of the fender bender type. Ok, they are still learning, makes sense. Unfortunately, when they are involved in loss of life crashes, the lives taken are usually only their own, and their passengers. Each year more and more laws are enacted to restrict the driving rights of teens. This is mainly due to the fact they can not vote, and have no weight in our society.
However, while seniors have less accidents of the fender bender type, when they are involved in loss of life accidents, they kill more people that are not passengers in their car. Every time legislation comes up for a vote, to test the diving skills of these older drivers, it is voted down. Not enough lawmakers have the balls to anger their main voting block..
When did it become fashionable to be so very mean to each other? It is everywhere now. We seem to have lost the ability to be nice to each other. How many tv shows are watched eagerly each week, to see us treating each other negatively? Big Brother, Surviver, The Soup, The Dish, and web sites like, Perez Hilton, etc.....
And don't get me started about depriving LGBTQ people of their rights in regard to marriage, adoption, and serving openly in the military.....
It is time to bring back the civility in our society.
All quoted material is from this Wikipedia webpage.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
I Believe in Love
At the end of the day, in the dark of night, in the still and quiet hours of early morning, alone in a crowd, all we have to keep us together is, love.
Love is a curious thing really. The more you horde it the less of it there is to go around. And the more freely you give it away, the more you have to give.
Some of us spend our love unwisely on material items, on hobbies, or only love ourselves. In the dark, alone awakened by a bad dream, hurt by a friend, a co-worker, it is impossible to have your car, the bigger house, etc. to hug you.
There are those who spend wildly the coin of love, to keep or attain a person who doesn't love us back. And for some of those, that person they want, is honestly a material possession. Wanted only as a status symbol, the Channel bag, and so on.
The one enduring truth about love, is in a mother's unconditional love. The shining beacon to guide our days and nights. A truth to hold close, to bind the hurt, salve the pain, at least my mother loves me, is a cry into the abyss of loneliness. And as a mother the idea of not loving your child is so far out of my comprehension as to be a foreign language.
The first time, each of my children was placed in my arms, a wave of love, crashed over and around me, filling every pore, every space between my cells. The love I felt for my children was enough to almost break my heart. How could anyone live with this much love filling them? Hearing their cries, tugged on me. Holding them and breathing in their sweet scent, calmed me. Their warmth from their tiny bodies, kindled the fires in my heart.
But for so many, that truth is a fallacy. The child is seen as an obstacle, a hindrance, a weight. Some children are material possessions, something to brag on, just like their trophy wife, or dollar heavy car. As long as the trophy child produces, there is love. A shallow, empty hollow love, but that is all the child is ever going to reap from this fallow field. If these material possession children question the status quo in their home, want or need to forge a new path, the love is withdrawn. Throwing the child under the wheels of life, unable to believe themselves worthy of any other persons love. If my own parents didn't love me, they cry, how can you? Answering that question from a grieving child, no matter what the current age happens to be, is impossible. If I am such a special person to you, why wasn't I special to them?
Yes we are like moths to the candle of love. We flutter around the flame, needing it's warmth and light, and it's wonderful hope for a brighter tomorrow. Feeding that soul deep desire for love, if we feed from a poisoned pond, can sicken us down to our very deepest core. In searching for love, we often become waylaid by surface perfections that cover a damaged empty soul. Looking only skin deep can lead us past a person of worth with a capacity of endless boundless love. Superficial clues of beauty often lead to superficial love. A wrinkle, softening physic, hair defecting the scalp, and they are gone, needing to feed from the fount of youth.
Why is this in my mind? I am amazed at the amount of constrictions we place on love. A dear internet friend has been thrown out like yesterdays trash by his parents. His crime? Turning his back on their religion. They are exchanging their child, the visible expression of their married love, away for a book, a belief, a doctrine. How can that be? What truly benevolent God would expect parents to discard their children if they do not measure up? Belief is often cyclical. Stronger in youth, waning in teens, waxing in middle age, bounding forward in the golden years. Allow your child to step away from your font of belief. True belief only comes from questioning and deep soul searching. The belief each of us holds is personal and snowflake different. Keeping what is needed and important, discarding the unwanted or undesired, tailored to fit each of us perfectly. In this time of one sized fits all mentality, conformity is the new measure of success. And what we are most often successful at is losing what is important to us.
If you love someone, tell them, show them, make it clear how you feel about them. Show them often, tell them often, bathe them in your ocean of love for them.
Three little words, that can be spoken in one small breath, I Love You.
Love is a curious thing really. The more you horde it the less of it there is to go around. And the more freely you give it away, the more you have to give.
Some of us spend our love unwisely on material items, on hobbies, or only love ourselves. In the dark, alone awakened by a bad dream, hurt by a friend, a co-worker, it is impossible to have your car, the bigger house, etc. to hug you.
There are those who spend wildly the coin of love, to keep or attain a person who doesn't love us back. And for some of those, that person they want, is honestly a material possession. Wanted only as a status symbol, the Channel bag, and so on.
The one enduring truth about love, is in a mother's unconditional love. The shining beacon to guide our days and nights. A truth to hold close, to bind the hurt, salve the pain, at least my mother loves me, is a cry into the abyss of loneliness. And as a mother the idea of not loving your child is so far out of my comprehension as to be a foreign language.
The first time, each of my children was placed in my arms, a wave of love, crashed over and around me, filling every pore, every space between my cells. The love I felt for my children was enough to almost break my heart. How could anyone live with this much love filling them? Hearing their cries, tugged on me. Holding them and breathing in their sweet scent, calmed me. Their warmth from their tiny bodies, kindled the fires in my heart.
But for so many, that truth is a fallacy. The child is seen as an obstacle, a hindrance, a weight. Some children are material possessions, something to brag on, just like their trophy wife, or dollar heavy car. As long as the trophy child produces, there is love. A shallow, empty hollow love, but that is all the child is ever going to reap from this fallow field. If these material possession children question the status quo in their home, want or need to forge a new path, the love is withdrawn. Throwing the child under the wheels of life, unable to believe themselves worthy of any other persons love. If my own parents didn't love me, they cry, how can you? Answering that question from a grieving child, no matter what the current age happens to be, is impossible. If I am such a special person to you, why wasn't I special to them?
Yes we are like moths to the candle of love. We flutter around the flame, needing it's warmth and light, and it's wonderful hope for a brighter tomorrow. Feeding that soul deep desire for love, if we feed from a poisoned pond, can sicken us down to our very deepest core. In searching for love, we often become waylaid by surface perfections that cover a damaged empty soul. Looking only skin deep can lead us past a person of worth with a capacity of endless boundless love. Superficial clues of beauty often lead to superficial love. A wrinkle, softening physic, hair defecting the scalp, and they are gone, needing to feed from the fount of youth.
Why is this in my mind? I am amazed at the amount of constrictions we place on love. A dear internet friend has been thrown out like yesterdays trash by his parents. His crime? Turning his back on their religion. They are exchanging their child, the visible expression of their married love, away for a book, a belief, a doctrine. How can that be? What truly benevolent God would expect parents to discard their children if they do not measure up? Belief is often cyclical. Stronger in youth, waning in teens, waxing in middle age, bounding forward in the golden years. Allow your child to step away from your font of belief. True belief only comes from questioning and deep soul searching. The belief each of us holds is personal and snowflake different. Keeping what is needed and important, discarding the unwanted or undesired, tailored to fit each of us perfectly. In this time of one sized fits all mentality, conformity is the new measure of success. And what we are most often successful at is losing what is important to us.
If you love someone, tell them, show them, make it clear how you feel about them. Show them often, tell them often, bathe them in your ocean of love for them.
Three little words, that can be spoken in one small breath, I Love You.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Life On a Printed Plane
Life on a Printed Plane is my new blog. I have these stories on a website, but thought it was easier for people who were interested in me read them here....
It has my two finished, 'sticky' stories. Oh, and the 'sticky'? A great friend of mine, after reading he said he needed to go change into something less, sticky..... And from then on out, I have called them sticky stories... I write a different type of erotic stories. I don't clothe my people in hair color/ eye color/body build, that is for you the reader to do. Also, only one of the persons in my stories has an identified sex, male, the other? Use your imagination, a female friend is sure the other person is female, and my sticky namer? He was sure they were both male.
I have finished my story, and all of the chapters are now posted.
Whispering "Who is the strange girl hanging out on the gay/bi blogs?"
Who am I? Well, that is the classic existential question. I seem to be a person who does not 'fit' into any box completely, or quietly for that matter. It seems the most consistent modifier attached to me is unusual. I have also been called freaky, as in the old meaning and very recently with the newer meaning. Being called freaky, either old or new meaning has always stung.... Oh, and a word of warning, I suffer from word vomit...
Raised in the midwest, with a large extended family, my personal family was normally of two, with my step dad making repeat engagements for various amounts of time. My mom is mentally ill, and used me as valium. Bad day at work? Caught the eye of a traffic cop, speeding ticket, argued with family, because today has the letter a in the name, who the fuck knows why.. she used me as a stress reliever, and routinely beat the shit out of me. And often the next day noticing the bruises, would beat me more when I told she caused them..... My childhood bit, blew, sucked, was a wasteland of abandoned hopes. Somewhere I gave up hope, and stopped caring, stopped believing in a saviour, and turned to drugs, alcohol and sex, and other really risky behavior. Believing that any physical contact, that was not pain, was love. Or at least a pale imitation that was acceptable to me.
The only consistent beacon of hope in my life, the reason I am still here, and did not off myself, and believe me the urge was there almost daily, was my uncle. My dad was a weak person, and could not deal with the crazy that was my mom. The day he left and didn't take me, was a mega karma drain for him. His brother, when I was in my teens came back into my life, and tried his best to help me. Angel Uncle did his best to help me. I spent months at a time living with him. And just about the time, I was beginning to care about myself again, she would come back and take me home. At one point, I begged Angel Uncle to keep me, I was in high school and things were becoming totally unmanageable for me. If you had known me, I seemed happy! Laughing, full of fun, always joking, but I was nothing but an empty shell. Sitting on the floor, leaning against his leg, begging him to keep me, he told me there was no way he could. The courts would never award custody to him. And then he told me he was gay. At that point I was confused. 'k, you are gay, you like men, female here, and what interest would you have sexually in me????? Seemed like that would be the safest place for a female.....
As time went on, Angel Uncle felt comfortable enough, and had his boyfriend move in, while I was living there. My male cousins were no longer allowed to spend the night.... The boyfriend was very uncomfortable with me for a long time. I would come into the kitchen or the living room, and he would jump away from my Uncle. One time he fell over the piano bench! So, finally I would leave the room when BF would come home from work, saying kiss him hello already. He got used to me, but never comfortable showing my Uncle affection in front of me. My Uncle pushed me to go to college, and if you read the two previous posts, you will see how I met The Husband, and left my midwest life, for a new life in Alaska. College straight up saved my life. I decided to stop trying to kill myself with my lifestyle, I was not going to do her dirty work for her. If she wanted me dead, she would have to do it herself. Uncle would never talk about his personal life. And I always wondered what life was like growing up in a very conservative area, in the 40's. Before I could convince him to talk to me, he was murdered by an evil twink. He was stringing my Uncle along, stealing from him. Twink's true boyfriend shot my Uncle at work, after robbing the place. They both got life, but it didn't get my Uncle back his life......
While I used sex as a comfort, an illusion of love, at the bottom of it all? I just plain enjoy sex. And for some reason, only men are supposed to enjoy it. I like looking at pics of yummy guys. My favorite site! And many men find it somewhat off putting, females expressing sexual desires.... So, straight guys are supposed to prove they are all that on the sheets. Straight guys = sex with girls. Right? But, girls are not supposed to have sex, well if they don't want to be considered slutty. Is anyone else feeling the dichotomy here? If they are not having sex with the good girls, the girls who they take to prom, the girls who won't spread for them, who are they having sex with? Yeah, the girls like me, who are good enough in the dark, but embarrassing in the bright light of day. Snub me once, never get another chance with me again. This was my high school self, not now.
My now self? Somehow I fell in love with a virgin. Oh yeah, a 20 year old virgin. With tons of hang ups, miles of embarrassment, always feeling like a pervert, if anything the least bit different was thought about, wanting to watch porn, feeling less than good about himself when he did.... After many years of boring missionary couplings, I couldn't stand it anymore. And I stepped away from the marriage bed. Realizing I was going to trade the love of my life for satisfying sex, I told him. After over 10 years of marriage he finally loosened up a bit.... The thought that he might loose me, finally awakened him to sex is an important part of marriage. Important part of my life. And then things started falling into place.... I kinda think my husband is bi. I had a website loaded up, with sexy naked men, and left to go to the bathroom. I like loud music, played loudly, and The Husband didn't hear me return. He was looking at the pics, and was hard.... I didn't mention it to him. After finally getting him to relax with m/f sex I didn't want to ruin it. Yeah, so I can be selfish. I know he will never ever admit it to himself. And me? If he finally does admit to himself, and came out to me? If we lived away from our kids, in a large city, yeah, he could bring someone else into our marriage. If he is happy, I am happy. Yeah, I do love him that much. No, I am not being a door mat here with this. There can never ever be enough love, and I am not talking sex here. If it takes being emotionally loved by both a male and a female to make him happy, complete, so be it. If he does come out to me, and wants to explore that portion of his sexuality? Go for it, just as long as he plays safe and makes the guy wear a condom.
Raised in the midwest, with a large extended family, my personal family was normally of two, with my step dad making repeat engagements for various amounts of time. My mom is mentally ill, and used me as valium. Bad day at work? Caught the eye of a traffic cop, speeding ticket, argued with family, because today has the letter a in the name, who the fuck knows why.. she used me as a stress reliever, and routinely beat the shit out of me. And often the next day noticing the bruises, would beat me more when I told she caused them..... My childhood bit, blew, sucked, was a wasteland of abandoned hopes. Somewhere I gave up hope, and stopped caring, stopped believing in a saviour, and turned to drugs, alcohol and sex, and other really risky behavior. Believing that any physical contact, that was not pain, was love. Or at least a pale imitation that was acceptable to me.
The only consistent beacon of hope in my life, the reason I am still here, and did not off myself, and believe me the urge was there almost daily, was my uncle. My dad was a weak person, and could not deal with the crazy that was my mom. The day he left and didn't take me, was a mega karma drain for him. His brother, when I was in my teens came back into my life, and tried his best to help me. Angel Uncle did his best to help me. I spent months at a time living with him. And just about the time, I was beginning to care about myself again, she would come back and take me home. At one point, I begged Angel Uncle to keep me, I was in high school and things were becoming totally unmanageable for me. If you had known me, I seemed happy! Laughing, full of fun, always joking, but I was nothing but an empty shell. Sitting on the floor, leaning against his leg, begging him to keep me, he told me there was no way he could. The courts would never award custody to him. And then he told me he was gay. At that point I was confused. 'k, you are gay, you like men, female here, and what interest would you have sexually in me????? Seemed like that would be the safest place for a female.....
As time went on, Angel Uncle felt comfortable enough, and had his boyfriend move in, while I was living there. My male cousins were no longer allowed to spend the night.... The boyfriend was very uncomfortable with me for a long time. I would come into the kitchen or the living room, and he would jump away from my Uncle. One time he fell over the piano bench! So, finally I would leave the room when BF would come home from work, saying kiss him hello already. He got used to me, but never comfortable showing my Uncle affection in front of me. My Uncle pushed me to go to college, and if you read the two previous posts, you will see how I met The Husband, and left my midwest life, for a new life in Alaska. College straight up saved my life. I decided to stop trying to kill myself with my lifestyle, I was not going to do her dirty work for her. If she wanted me dead, she would have to do it herself. Uncle would never talk about his personal life. And I always wondered what life was like growing up in a very conservative area, in the 40's. Before I could convince him to talk to me, he was murdered by an evil twink. He was stringing my Uncle along, stealing from him. Twink's true boyfriend shot my Uncle at work, after robbing the place. They both got life, but it didn't get my Uncle back his life......
While I used sex as a comfort, an illusion of love, at the bottom of it all? I just plain enjoy sex. And for some reason, only men are supposed to enjoy it. I like looking at pics of yummy guys. My favorite site! And many men find it somewhat off putting, females expressing sexual desires.... So, straight guys are supposed to prove they are all that on the sheets. Straight guys = sex with girls. Right? But, girls are not supposed to have sex, well if they don't want to be considered slutty. Is anyone else feeling the dichotomy here? If they are not having sex with the good girls, the girls who they take to prom, the girls who won't spread for them, who are they having sex with? Yeah, the girls like me, who are good enough in the dark, but embarrassing in the bright light of day. Snub me once, never get another chance with me again. This was my high school self, not now.
My now self? Somehow I fell in love with a virgin. Oh yeah, a 20 year old virgin. With tons of hang ups, miles of embarrassment, always feeling like a pervert, if anything the least bit different was thought about, wanting to watch porn, feeling less than good about himself when he did.... After many years of boring missionary couplings, I couldn't stand it anymore. And I stepped away from the marriage bed. Realizing I was going to trade the love of my life for satisfying sex, I told him. After over 10 years of marriage he finally loosened up a bit.... The thought that he might loose me, finally awakened him to sex is an important part of marriage. Important part of my life. And then things started falling into place.... I kinda think my husband is bi. I had a website loaded up, with sexy naked men, and left to go to the bathroom. I like loud music, played loudly, and The Husband didn't hear me return. He was looking at the pics, and was hard.... I didn't mention it to him. After finally getting him to relax with m/f sex I didn't want to ruin it. Yeah, so I can be selfish. I know he will never ever admit it to himself. And me? If he finally does admit to himself, and came out to me? If we lived away from our kids, in a large city, yeah, he could bring someone else into our marriage. If he is happy, I am happy. Yeah, I do love him that much. No, I am not being a door mat here with this. There can never ever be enough love, and I am not talking sex here. If it takes being emotionally loved by both a male and a female to make him happy, complete, so be it. If he does come out to me, and wants to explore that portion of his sexuality? Go for it, just as long as he plays safe and makes the guy wear a condom.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
18+32= love? part 2
I didn't go back to the dorms until Sunday evening. We only got out of bed if it was necessary. After that weekend, we spent every weekend together. Our passionate conversations still consumed us. One afternoon, delivering his mail, he asked me to a wear a dress on Friday. Curious about the request of a dress, I arrived at his office early. He was changing his clothes when I knocked on the door. A suit? He is wearing a suit? Grabbing up his keys, off we went. He was as nervous as our first Friday.
"What is going on? Where are we going?"
"Umm, to Temple."
"I'm going to Temple? You still go? When?"
"Well, I haven't been since we started dating. After my divorce, I attended only sporadically. This is something I have been wanting to do again. I have found myself missing it more and more. I would like to share my faith with you."
After that Friday, going to Temple became a normal part of our weekends together. We also starting seeing each other during the week, at his house and he would cook. He was teaching me about how to keep kosher. Several months go by like this, and then one Friday at Temple, a grandmotherly person, wanted to show me more of the building. Taking my hand she showed me the classrooms for the children, and then at the end of the hall, she entered a nursery, showing me around, and introducing me to a few of the women I hadn't yet met.
As we were walking back she floored me by saying, "You know his divorce broke that poor man, I thought he would never find anyone to share his life with again. I thought you were to young for him, but I see how he cares for you. If he is happy, I am happy for him."
Needless to say I was floored. The rest of the evening went by in a blur. On the way home, home? When had it become home? I decided to just come out and ask him.
"You love me? Why haven't you ever told me."
"I thought you understood how much I love you."
This is not my brightest moment, all these years later, it still burns, and this part is hard for me to write. I was so eager for love, so starved for love, so happy that someone would want me, me! I wasn't sure that I loved him. Honestly, at that point in my life, I am not sure I knew what the emotion felt like. Marriage was never mentioned out loud, but he spoke about children, wanting to move east when I finished college. He was planning our future together. And me? I was beginning to relax for the first time in my life. Never being beat, burned, screamed at, ignored, was a revelation for me. Not sure if I loved him or not, didn't matter to me, being loved was enough for me. I was willing to follow him anywhere.
One day, an acquaintance wanted me to meet her brother. He was on vacation and was going to stop by and see her. I had no interest in this brother, especially if he was as religious as she was. But, she was pleading with me to meet him. I still don't understand all these years later why it was so important to her.
The day came, I made no effort in how I looked. I rolled out of bed, and dressed from the floor, jeans, a tee shirt and a hoodie. Jammed a hat over my hair, sneakers on the feet, that was as good as it was going to get. I go to her room, and we leave to meet him.
This is going to sound false, fake and a total lie, but it is the honest truth. One look. One look, and the world fell away. One look and I fell in love, a heart stopping, breath caught in the throat love. A love that has been bruised a time or two over our many years together, but has never burned out.
The next day, I ran to his office, bubbling with a level of happiness that I had never before felt. He took one look at me, and collapsed into his chair.
"You're in love, and it isn't with me."
"I'm so sorry! I thought I loved you, really I did."
"Is it my age?"
"No! I can't explain it, but our eyes met, and we somehow fell in love. Not lust, that emotion I know to well, but love. I don't have words to say how sorry I am!"
"Could I have a good bye hug?"
"Yeah."
He clung to me for quite a long while. When he pushed me from him, he had tears in his eyes.
The school year ended about 6 weeks later. He went out of his way to stay out of his office. He put in his resignation, and left the college. I hated that I hurt him so deeply. I just hope he found someone that would love him like he deserved. He was a wonderful man. I find my self wondering about him from time to time, and hope he found happiness.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
18+32=love? part 1
This is the true story of how I met The Husband. Not a typical way to meet your future mate, but I never claimed to be typical.
My freshman year of college, I worked in the history department office. The usual grunt office work. Only a few weeks into the semester, there was a reorganization of departments. After the dust settled our department office was increased by one professor. He was forced to move his office to our floor of the building.
Delivering mail one day, I saw that his office door was open. Cool! I can get rid of that huge stack of his mail. No one had seen him yet, and he had moved in two weeks ago! Full of curiosity, I hustled back to the office to snag his mail. Grabbing it up, I flew right back to his office, praying the whole way he would be in. The whole department had heard of his rants and fits for having to move his office, and we had read his letter, on the sly, to the department head. Any one who could string words together like that, I was interested in meeting.
Rounding the corner, I saw that the office door was still open! Maybe he would be in this time. Still empty. Oh well, I will just drop his mail on his desk. Threading my way between the stacks of books, boxes, files, and general debris, I made my way to his desk. Dropping the mail on his overflowing desk, I turned to go, knocking over a pile of books. Shit! Kneeling quickly to stack them back up before he came back in. On my hands and knees trying to fish several books that were hiding under a chair, I heard a throat clear behind me! Desperate to get out of the compromising position quickly, I knocked over yet another stack of books! Turning around I saw the elusive prof. Black curly hair, dark liquid brown eyes, wide smile that reached his eyes, and oh yeah, a really nice bulge in his jeans. Just that quick I was in lust. Still embarrassed that I was making his office an even bigger mess, but oh my!
"Who's daughter are you?"
"Huh?" (I think quickly on my feet, don't I?)
"Your dad works in the department, which one is he?"
"Umm, no I am a student worker."
"How old are you?"
"18" (When I was 18, you couldn't tell by looking at me. On a good day, I could maybe pass for 15, maybe. If the room was dim, and you were drunk, had lost your glasses, and were horny and just didn't care.)
"No, really who is your dad?"
Pointing to my chest, I said very clearly, "18, student, father is I don't know where. Look me up, the name is Hon-ko, Biki, you will find me under freshman." Now THAT was a very true statement!
Finally believing that I was a student we chatted about nothing much, and then I needed to run to class.
Over several weeks the flirting increased in both the amount and the intensity. I had 'known' a few men, oh so much better than the boys I usually dated. Then a day came that I was really unhappy, and was not interested in flirting. Was working on autopilot that day, and truly wasn't there. He stopped me with a hand on my arm. The first time he touched me was in concern. Tried to get me to talk to him. I shut him down, no way was I going back to the office crying. He badgered me into letting him take me to supper. I was just planning on blowing him off, and not showing up, I needed to be alone with my despair. Getting out of class, there he was. He knew I was not going to show, and he was concerned!
On the drive to the diner, he tried to pry out of me what was bothering me. I couldn't tell you later anything about that meal, I was lost deep within myself. The next thing I noticed was he was holding the car door open, and wanted me to get out. Out? When had I gotten in? We were at his apartment, he led me in and shut the door. As soon as the door closed he pulled me into a hug, and the dam broke open and days of tears flowed out. He just listened and held me. After I ran out of tears, he started talking, trying to help me deal with what was bothering me. (evil mother) Hours later feeling so much better, he dropped me off at my dorm.
That night changed our relationship. Before what we talked about was mostly superficial, with large doses of sexual tension. Now, our conversations ranged near and far, topics big and small. We would raise our voices, wave our hands around, it was a meeting of the minds. We continued having dinner once a week at the diner, talking until we were hoarse. And then, one week, he moved the weekly dinner to Friday. I shook off a date, and met him for dinner. For the first time we went to a restaurant, one with table cloths! During the dinner I noticed an underlying nervousness in him. We couldn't linger for hours at a restaurant like the diner, and I was sorry our evening was going to come to an early end. Very off handedly, he asked me back to his apartment, which I had not been back to since that one night. Not wanting the evening to end so early I agreed.
He was so nervous that when he made himself a Jack Daniels and coke, he offered me one. I accepted the Jack, but on the rocks. Whatever, so he drank like a girl, oh wait! Not like this girl. After gulping down his drink, he fluttered into silence. Sitting there wondering what was going on in his head, quietly sipping my drink. He finally gathered his courage and asked, "We talk about a lot of things, but you never mention having a boyfriend."
"Don't have one."
"Haven't found anyone you want to date?"
"I date. Just no one special."
It was at that moment it dawned on me what he was trying to say. Now I had a hard and fast rule. Never date a friend. Dates are numerous and fleeting, but great friends are to precious to waste on the alter of lust. Wondering what having sex with someone I could talk to, liked talking to, I broke my cardinal rule. I stood up, put my glass down, and leaned in and kissed him.
"That was what you were getting at, right?"
His breath shuddered out of him, "Oh yeah. You are not, I mean, have you....."
"You won't be the first. Kiss me." I straddled him, the weeks of sexual tension had both of us wanting this.
My freshman year of college, I worked in the history department office. The usual grunt office work. Only a few weeks into the semester, there was a reorganization of departments. After the dust settled our department office was increased by one professor. He was forced to move his office to our floor of the building.
Delivering mail one day, I saw that his office door was open. Cool! I can get rid of that huge stack of his mail. No one had seen him yet, and he had moved in two weeks ago! Full of curiosity, I hustled back to the office to snag his mail. Grabbing it up, I flew right back to his office, praying the whole way he would be in. The whole department had heard of his rants and fits for having to move his office, and we had read his letter, on the sly, to the department head. Any one who could string words together like that, I was interested in meeting.
Rounding the corner, I saw that the office door was still open! Maybe he would be in this time. Still empty. Oh well, I will just drop his mail on his desk. Threading my way between the stacks of books, boxes, files, and general debris, I made my way to his desk. Dropping the mail on his overflowing desk, I turned to go, knocking over a pile of books. Shit! Kneeling quickly to stack them back up before he came back in. On my hands and knees trying to fish several books that were hiding under a chair, I heard a throat clear behind me! Desperate to get out of the compromising position quickly, I knocked over yet another stack of books! Turning around I saw the elusive prof. Black curly hair, dark liquid brown eyes, wide smile that reached his eyes, and oh yeah, a really nice bulge in his jeans. Just that quick I was in lust. Still embarrassed that I was making his office an even bigger mess, but oh my!
"Who's daughter are you?"
"Huh?" (I think quickly on my feet, don't I?)
"Your dad works in the department, which one is he?"
"Umm, no I am a student worker."
"How old are you?"
"18" (When I was 18, you couldn't tell by looking at me. On a good day, I could maybe pass for 15, maybe. If the room was dim, and you were drunk, had lost your glasses, and were horny and just didn't care.)
"No, really who is your dad?"
Pointing to my chest, I said very clearly, "18, student, father is I don't know where. Look me up, the name is Hon-ko, Biki, you will find me under freshman." Now THAT was a very true statement!
Finally believing that I was a student we chatted about nothing much, and then I needed to run to class.
Over several weeks the flirting increased in both the amount and the intensity. I had 'known' a few men, oh so much better than the boys I usually dated. Then a day came that I was really unhappy, and was not interested in flirting. Was working on autopilot that day, and truly wasn't there. He stopped me with a hand on my arm. The first time he touched me was in concern. Tried to get me to talk to him. I shut him down, no way was I going back to the office crying. He badgered me into letting him take me to supper. I was just planning on blowing him off, and not showing up, I needed to be alone with my despair. Getting out of class, there he was. He knew I was not going to show, and he was concerned!
On the drive to the diner, he tried to pry out of me what was bothering me. I couldn't tell you later anything about that meal, I was lost deep within myself. The next thing I noticed was he was holding the car door open, and wanted me to get out. Out? When had I gotten in? We were at his apartment, he led me in and shut the door. As soon as the door closed he pulled me into a hug, and the dam broke open and days of tears flowed out. He just listened and held me. After I ran out of tears, he started talking, trying to help me deal with what was bothering me. (evil mother) Hours later feeling so much better, he dropped me off at my dorm.
That night changed our relationship. Before what we talked about was mostly superficial, with large doses of sexual tension. Now, our conversations ranged near and far, topics big and small. We would raise our voices, wave our hands around, it was a meeting of the minds. We continued having dinner once a week at the diner, talking until we were hoarse. And then, one week, he moved the weekly dinner to Friday. I shook off a date, and met him for dinner. For the first time we went to a restaurant, one with table cloths! During the dinner I noticed an underlying nervousness in him. We couldn't linger for hours at a restaurant like the diner, and I was sorry our evening was going to come to an early end. Very off handedly, he asked me back to his apartment, which I had not been back to since that one night. Not wanting the evening to end so early I agreed.
He was so nervous that when he made himself a Jack Daniels and coke, he offered me one. I accepted the Jack, but on the rocks. Whatever, so he drank like a girl, oh wait! Not like this girl. After gulping down his drink, he fluttered into silence. Sitting there wondering what was going on in his head, quietly sipping my drink. He finally gathered his courage and asked, "We talk about a lot of things, but you never mention having a boyfriend."
"Don't have one."
"Haven't found anyone you want to date?"
"I date. Just no one special."
It was at that moment it dawned on me what he was trying to say. Now I had a hard and fast rule. Never date a friend. Dates are numerous and fleeting, but great friends are to precious to waste on the alter of lust. Wondering what having sex with someone I could talk to, liked talking to, I broke my cardinal rule. I stood up, put my glass down, and leaned in and kissed him.
"That was what you were getting at, right?"
His breath shuddered out of him, "Oh yeah. You are not, I mean, have you....."
"You won't be the first. Kiss me." I straddled him, the weeks of sexual tension had both of us wanting this.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
My Life According to Marilyn Manson
Saw this earlier on the web, and it looked like a lot of fun. A treasure hunt for meaning, some were a real stretch, others? Scarily enough, a perfect fit. I will you to guess which ones were a perfect fit!
Using only song names from one artist answer these questions.
Artist--
Marilyn Manson
Male or female--
Doll-Dagga Buzz-Buzz Ziggety-Zag
Describe yourself----
Beautiful People
How do you feel--
Dried Up, Tied Up And Dead To The World
Describe where you currently live--
Great Big White World
If you could go anywhere, where would it be--
Running To The Edge Of The World
Your favorite form of transportation--
Four Rusted Horses
Your best friend is--
Angel With the Scabbed Wings
You and your best friends are--
We're From America
What's the weather like--
Coma White
Favorite time of day--
Lunchbox
If your life was a tv show, what would it be called--
Long Hard Road Out of Hell
What is life to you--
Sweet Dreams
Your relationship--
Lovegame
Your fear--
Just a Car Crash Away
What is the best advice you have to give--
Leave a Scar
Thought for the day--
Use Your Fist and Not Your Mouth
How i would like to die--
Get your Gunn
My soul's present condition--
Fundamentally Loathsome
My motto--
They Said That Hell's Not Hot
Using only song names from one artist answer these questions.
Artist--
Marilyn Manson
Male or female--
Doll-Dagga Buzz-Buzz Ziggety-Zag
Describe yourself----
Beautiful People
How do you feel--
Dried Up, Tied Up And Dead To The World
Describe where you currently live--
Great Big White World
If you could go anywhere, where would it be--
Running To The Edge Of The World
Your favorite form of transportation--
Four Rusted Horses
Your best friend is--
Angel With the Scabbed Wings
You and your best friends are--
We're From America
What's the weather like--
Coma White
Favorite time of day--
Lunchbox
If your life was a tv show, what would it be called--
Long Hard Road Out of Hell
What is life to you--
Sweet Dreams
Your relationship--
Lovegame
Your fear--
Just a Car Crash Away
What is the best advice you have to give--
Leave a Scar
Thought for the day--
Use Your Fist and Not Your Mouth
How i would like to die--
Get your Gunn
My soul's present condition--
Fundamentally Loathsome
My motto--
They Said That Hell's Not Hot
Monday, October 19, 2009
My 65 Answers
Since I am new to you, thought this could be helpful...enjoy!
1. First thing you wash in the shower?
Hair, start at the top of me, and work down. If not, I have a tendency to forget what has been washed..... Activities that don't require me to attend to, I don't.
2. What color is your favorite hoodie?
I hate hoodies!!! So, no color!
3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Hell yeah, I like kissing The Husband!
4. Do you plan outfits every day?
Plan? Like think in advance of opening my drawer, to see what is clean? Nope!
5. How are you feeling Right now?
Happy!
6. What's the closest thing to you that's red?
Mousepad.
7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?
Oooh, we so don't know each other well enough for that yet! Sexy! Yum!
8. Did you meet anybody new today?
Nope!
9. What are you craving right now?
Sex! The Husband has a cold. :(
10. Do you floss?
Pfft! Nope!
11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Tasty eats, in many different forms.
12. Are you emotional?
Usually not, pretty even keeled human here.
13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?
Why would I ever want to do that?
14. Do you bite your ice cream or just lick it?
Lick, long slow licks! Lol!
15. Do you like your hair?
NO!
16. Do you like yourself?
Yeah, for the most part.
17. Would you go out to eat with George Bush?
Nope, don't like eating with strangers, friends make food taste better.
18. What are you listening to right now?
Marilyn Manson's Sweet Dreams. The whole best hits on continuous play. Love earphones! 3 a.m. people are sleeping, and I am pounding my ears with music!
19. Are your parents strict?
Totally evil mother, that is a subject for several posts.
20. Would you go sky diving?
A girl who has issues on a ladder, ffs No!
21. Do you like cottage cheese?
Yummy!
22. Have you ever met a celebrity?
Umm, does a winner of the Iditarod count? If not, then no.
23. Do you rent movies often?
I seem to go in spurts, where I will rent 3 or 4 at once, and then gorge on them, a few weeks go by and I do it again!
24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?
My wit? Oh, wrong answer.... then no.
25. How many countries have you visited?
2 Canada and Japan
26. Have you made a prank phone call?
Oh hell yeah!
27. Ever been on a train?
Nope.
28. Brown or white eggs?
Brown are prettier in the egg thingy in the fridge, but really don't care.
29. Do you have a cell-phone?
Oh, yeah, my I can't-live-without-it iphone!
30. Do I use chap stick?
Only in the winter. Truly don't like it.
31. Do you own a gun?
Yeah, 12 gage shotgun, and a .243 rifle
32. Can you use chop sticks?
Yup!
33. Who are you going to be with tonight?
The family
34. Are you too forgiving?
No.
35. Ever been in love?
Still am with The Husband!
36. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow?
Not a clue.
37. Every have cream puffs?
Yum! So good......
38. Last time you cried?
Two days ago.
39. What was the last question you asked?
Will you go for doughnuts tomorrow, please?
40. Favorite time of the year?
Anytime it is not winter!
41. Do you have any tattoos?
No, sigh, I lost that argument.
42. Are you sarcastic?
You have been reading my answers right?
43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?
No.
44. Ever walked into a wall?
Lol! Yesterday! Stupid walls in this apartment move around.
45. Favorite color?
Of what? Cars? Clothes? I need more input to answer this. But will say the only vette that looked good in white was the late '70's.
46. Have you ever slapped someone?
Hell yeah!
47. Is your hair curly?
No! Stupid hair!
48. What was the last CD you bought?
Dead by Sunrise. The lead singer of Linkin Park has a side band now.
49. Do looks matter?
Kinda, but I so need substance with my style. A pretty soul is worth much more than a pretty face.
50. Could you ever forgive a cheater?
It would be hypercritical of me not to forgive a cheater.
51. Is your phone bill sky high?
Nope.
52. Do you like your life right now?
No. I want to travel. I want to go to a dance club. I want a vette! No money for items 1 and 3 and The Husband doesn't/won't dance.
53. Do you sleep with the TV on?
You did say sleep right? I have enough trouble getting my brain to sleep as it is, input would just keep it interested.
54. Can you handle the truth?
Would rather have the truth, than be lied to.
55. Do you have good vision?
Need glasses, so no.
56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people?
I have a hard time hating.... dislike, yeah sure. More than 3? Not sure even that many....
57. How often do you talk on the phone?
Daily.
58. The last person you held hands with?
The Husband.
59. What are you wearing?
clothing
60. What is your favorite animal?
These questions are way to vague for me, so... To pet, dog. To eat, pig. To watch, caribou
61. Where was your default picture taken at?
Umm, avatar and after putting it there, not really feeling it. It will be changing!
62. Can you hula hoop?
Yeah!
63. Do you have a job?
Gave up my dream job, to move from hell on earth town. So, no!
64. What was the most recent thing you bought?
Thai food, yummy!
65. Have you ever crawled through a window?
Lol! Most of the good times from high school started and ended with a trip through my bedroom window.....
Sunday, October 18, 2009
My belief
Let's imagine a world were everyone is born female. After producing a live baby, the female undergoes a transformation and becomes male. This is the permanent sex of the human, until the end of their life.
Continuing with our imaginary world idea, lets us also pretend that everyone is the same lovely shade of blue. Our hair is pink and our eyes are black. Dividing ourselves by color would be impossible, as we are all identical.
Going further into this society, there is no religion, only rules and laws to follow. And for the most part, the inhabitants are well behaved, and are not rule breakers. There is a certain percentage of the population that lives counter to the ideals of our alternate universe. For these few, most of the laws were written.
So, let's step back and look at our AU (alternate universe). Because everyone transitions through the same life path of mutating sex organs, there is no law that proscribes the actions of one sex over another. Females are not punished for deciding not to have a baby, and choosing to remain female their entire lives. Of course the road to maleness is only thru the filter of having been female. Who in their right mind, would want to put restrictions on either their previous sex or their future sex?
A cute little blue skinned girl, falls in love with a handsome blue skinned guy. They are so very happy together! After enjoying the marriage bed for a while, they are pleased to discover a baby is in their future. The girl swells with their baby, and in 8 months (hey, my world!) a wonderful baby is born, female of course. By the time the baby is four, mom has become dad. Now, it makes no difference to our couple, this is the normal progression of life, and they remain happily ever after.
Are you reading this thinking, oh if only I could live in such a place? Yeah, me too. Oh, except for the changing of sex organs we do. What? Wait? Our Constitution, Declaration of Independence, and the Bill of Rights contains all of these rules, to treat everyone equal. It is our interpretation of them that falls well short.
The Declaration of Independence states that "all men are created equal". That one line, that very line, made a mockery of the Fifteenth Amendment to the Constitution. They were all ready created equal, as stated in the DoI. But greed, and the filter of religion perverted the Bill of Rights. Because of that, we are still having issues with dividing our selves by our skin color. Which has to be the silliest way to divide up. Why not by hobbies, jobs, abilities? Like in high school, remember how kids clump up by interest? The jocks, geeks, goths, marching band, rocket club, lovers of one music group, etc. No, we as humans have taken the path of least resistance and have gone with color.
Our country is based on the freedom of religion. You are allowed to worship as you like, well except for a small group of people who use poisonous snakes in their worship rites. The first amendment guarantees us the freedom of religion. If we are allowed as a people to worship as we will, or not, why is our rule of law filtered thru the lens of only one religion? Shouldn't our laws be based on what is right and fair?
We have a wonderful framework of documents, that if adhered to, negate many of our laws. As we have seen with the fifteenth amendment. If you take the DoI literally we are given the right to pursue happiness, and at the same time, the Bill of Rights ninth amendment, gives us protection of rights not specifically enumerated in the BoR.
So, where am i going with all of this? Two of our most valued documents, the BoR and the DoI have given us rights, that the law makers have taken away. If only I had a coffer large enough, I would take the government to court. What rights do I feel have been perverted by laws written that counteract these two documents? Gay rights. The pursuit of happiness. Isn't the ability to marry, serve in the military as openly gay, and adopt children, be considered under the pursuit of happiness? And that the ninth amendment backs up that right?
Why is christianity so against gay rights? What do they fear? Is their main fear that if LGBTQ are given the rights our precious documents have given us, that it will somehow dilute their hold on our hearts and minds? I would think it could increase their hold on us. Why? Because now, with their hatred spewing from the pulpits, they are chasing LGBTQ from the pews, and following them, are people like myself. People who are straight (I hate this term! Does that make LGBTQ bent?) are leaving to distance themselves from the hate speech, and the bigotry.
And in this also, they are perverting the very document they too hold dear, the Bible. Judge not least ye be judged, love thy neighbor as thyself, you shall not murder (kill). Oh, the last one you are wondering about, yes? By inciting violence against LGBTQ, that all to often leads to death, they are breaking one of the 10 commandments.
Every time a teen takes their own life, because of fear or self hatred of their sexuality, due to our perverted laws and religion, our government and religions that preach hate, should go on trial for murder. And be publicly shamed for their part in the loss of a precious human life. Because as many of us as there is, each and everyone of us is precious, irreplaceable, important, and should be able to live a life free of hate, free of fear, just plain damned free.
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