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Archive for March, 2011

Dream Rayne’s a cunt.

March 31st, 2011 Comments off

Last night I dreamed that I killed all my pets. By accident, but mostly because I wasn’t watching what I was doing.

Last night, M dreamed that I cheated on Him. A lot.

Dream Rayne’s a cunt. I don’t think I want to meet her.

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Life is awesome. Hope you’re well.

March 28th, 2011 Comments off

My kitchen is clean. Mostly. There are a few pans and dinner’s plates to wash, but I was working. They’ve been rinsed. I’ll probably wash them in the morning, while I’m making M’s pancakes. He’s requested pancakes.

I’m finished working. It took longer than I hoped, but not as long as it usually does.

Zedd’s singing, not screaming, and has been since we got the Diamond Doves. He’s not freaking out at every noise, and he seems happy. That’s awesome.

Master and I spent the entire weekend, except the couple hours I worked on Sex Feed, just hanging out and being together. We hung out around the house, just kickin’ it. One night, we woke up unintentionally around 4am, and neither of us could sleep. So we had amazing sex, and pulled out the Cocoon to lay on it for a while. And before long we were ready to go back to sleep.

When we woke up we had more amazing sex, and then spent the day together.

Except tonight, when one of us is cooking, the other stays in the kitchen with them, because there’s a table and chairs in there!

We took the first shower we’ve been able to take together in two years!

I just wish we could get rid of the smell.

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Our Move and Stuff

March 20th, 2011 2 comments

We’re in! The move is complete! And I’m SO glad. And sore. God, am I sore. Though it’s getting better.

We still haven’t gotten rid of the dog smell. It really bothers me. We’re gonna have to do something about it, I just don’t know what, yet. I’m all ears for suggestions. Baking soda, vinegar and ammonia are out. Tried the first two, and the last may make my cat pee everywhere. Really not interested in trading one animal smell for another.

We’ve got curtains. They’re not my favorite, but for a Walmart special, they’re not all that shabby, either. Pics behind the cut. Read more…

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WE’RE MOVING!! Sort of.

March 13th, 2011 Comments off

Downstairs and in the back. It’s a bigger place, but I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting it is. We’ve been cleaning for a week, and we’re still not done.

If you need me, I’ll be trying to get dog piss out of floorboards.

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Overheard at the Bagel Shop: The Transformers Edition

March 9th, 2011 Comments off

“She wanted a Transformer,” she said, with an expression made of equal parts amusement and disgust. “So we got her a bracelet making kit.”

Uhm.

Master was in the bathroom. I repeated the remark in my head until I could put it in His phone when He got back so I could remember it when we got home. And when I typed the words in, I showed it to Him.

“You guys make too big a deal out of stuff like this. Most kids don’t even remember. The only reason they remember is because people like you make a big deal out of it.”

“I remember. When I was a kid I wasn’t allowed to play with boys toys, and I remember.” Read more…

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On “Female Chauvinist Pigs”

March 4th, 2011 2 comments

“Attacking femaleness, deriding ‘girly stuff’ and rolling your eyes at ‘women’s issues,’ declaring yourself a ‘tomboy’ who gets along better with men because women are silly or pretty or whatever – these are expressions of internalised sexism. If that’s the way you feel about your own sex you’ll be doomed to feel inferior no matter what you achieve in life.”
— Emily Maguire, Introduction to “Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture 2010 Edition.”

Bullshit! I call bullshit!

You might as well be calling ftm transgender people “female chauvinist pigs”.

I am a tomboy. Most of my life, I’ve had more male friends than female friends. I roll my eyes at quite a few “women’s issues”. I roll my eyes at “men’s issues”, too. I roll my eyes at quite a few issues, period, because when it comes right down to it, the only thing that matters in the grand scheme of things is whether or not you were happy when you slid into home.

That’s not to say I don’t empathize with people who aren’t happy. If you’re not happy, by god, fight for your happiness. While you’re at it, though, do me a favor, and don’t fuck up mine.

I don’t much care for most girly stuff because I just don’t much care for most girly stuff. Frills and sparkles and lace in large quantities have never really been my thing. They’re not comfortable, and they draw all sorts of attention to me that most of the time I’m content not to have.

That makes me sexist? Here I thought that just made me…well…me.

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