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Tangled Tora

June 15th, 2010 Comments off

Me- looks fine on the outside, all tangled up on the inside.

There’s been quite the flurry of communication in this house as we further explore some of the outside stressors that are taking their toll on our sanity. One of the topics that came up was His continuing interest in swapping with another friendly couple or with a female, preferrably bisexual, but not necessarily required.

That topic, of swapping, always leads to interesting reactions on my part, because it is absolutely loaded with implications, fears, insecurities and nightmares for me. It makes even the most mundane comments from Him make me tremble with suppressed rage or sob quietly in the bathroom.  It’s quite the fucking mental minefield, for sure.

The more direct consequences of the swapping I’ll discuss later on in a different set of posts. This post will be a multi-post series on how an open-bedroom policy has an affect on how I serve Him in the O/p relationship.

Read more…

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Oh, You noticed that?

June 10th, 2010 2 comments

He thinks of me much more than I realize. And He sees a lot more of my emotional turmoil than I give Him credit for.

Last night we were discussing O/p theology while showering. It had spun off of an  entry I was trying to puzzle out for ID, about active ownership, whether it was a phase, a personality flaw or something I was doomed/destined to requite. In fleshing this out, we discussed teh various nuclear meltdowns I suffered over the past year, all tied in one way or another from my perceived abandonment of the O/p by Him. Out of the blue He hit me with this gem that made me stop and reasses Him on a whole new level:

“You freak out because you assume that each time I get lazy or have to withdraw from the O/p I’m never coming back to it.”

I never thought He was interested in discovering the whats and whys  regarding my breakdowns. He’s normally a results-orientated kinda guy, less concerned with why I’m doing something and more concerned that I am doing it and in His parameters.  So when He saw right through me like that, in a manner that I hadn’t even addressed yet, (hell, I hadn’t even fully formed the idea that I was afraid of abandonment until maybe a month ago) totally brought me up short.

Now I find myself wondering what else He’s grokked on me without letting me know. How far ahead of me is He? And a little bit of me wonders if He doesn’t laugh at me when I running around chasing my tail, totally freaked out and clueless as to why, and He knows exactly what my problem is and enjoys watching me lose a year or two of my life panicking over the sky falling in. But an Owner would never do such a thing, would they? *snickers*

Oddly enough, I find this kinda comforting. It’s nice to know He isn’t as oblivious to my inner workings as I initially believed. There was just no reason for Him to let me on that He isn’t clueless. I believe it probably gives Him an edge in keeping me in place when I get uppity.

I haz a warm fuzzy, because He never stops leaving me surprised and at least one step behind.

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Fear (no loathing) in Las Vegas

June 2nd, 2010 1 comment

This Friday, The Man and I fly out to Arizona to stay for the weekend with His mom and step-dad. The day after we arrive, it’s off to Las Vegas for a night, then back to Arizona for another night before flying back home. I’m alternately thrilled and terrified.  He finds this dichotomy amusing.

I’m thrilled because it’s three and a half days away from our children. Our children, who, though I love them so, have driven me stark raving mad more than once recently. I’m thrilled because it will be new experiences for both of us, a chance to relate to each other on a solely O/p basis, parenting and the stressors of living one step from disaster a far distant concern for that short stretch of time. A chance to recharge our batteries and reaffirm why we love each other so much.

I’m terrified because there is so much unknown involved. I’m already getting a squicky feeling in the pit of my stomach thinking about going through security. About strolling down the Strip. About the noise and crowds and dim chaos in the casino His mother is bringing us to. While I am curious about it all, I still would rather bury my head in His shoulder and blink it all away. Unknown situations can bring me, an otherwise fairly confident, strong woman, to my knees begging for it to just stop. Good example: When I was a feshman in high school, I was transferred three-quarters way through the season to a different school due to natural disaster. No one from the new school showed me how to use the totally unfamiliar check-out system for lunch. Consequently, I never ate lunch there. For two months, I never stepped foot in the cafeteria. I was petrified of the idea that I would make a fool of myself trying to learn this new system. I didn’t want people behind me getting irritated with me for taking so long.  Read more…

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Gratitude to those who watched over us

May 29th, 2010 Comments off

This weekend is Memorial Day weekend. Most people are gearing up for a weekend at the lake, in the backyard bbq-ing, swigging beers and tossing the football around. Children running around yelling and whooping, the slight scent of coconut wafting off their skin from the sunblock their moms dutifully rubbed on. Women kvetching over paper plates piled high with pot-luck fares like potato salad and baked beans, men surrounding the grill in a re-enactment of man’s primitive circle around the fire. Flags fluttering in the breeze, a tradition done on instinct, because Dad did it, because his Dad did it, for who know how long.

That is not ALL Memorial Day is. Go to your nearest graveyard. See all the flags marching row and row, column and column? They are the main reason for Memorial Day. Those men and women who did what they could to ensure that the bbq and children running free across the yard was available to all. They put themselves in front of us to keep us safe, to keep us free. They elevated the safety of America above their own dreams and sometimes, their own lives.  Read more…

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Rant Collection

May 18th, 2010 11 comments

A few things have been sticking in my craw lately, so I’m going to share them all with you, my lovely readers. Have fun.

  1. Littles. This shit drives me fucking nuts. If you want to act like a 4 year old in your house/relationship, hey whatever, knock yourself out. I’ll keep my opinions of how stupid you sound and look and act to my Owner and I. But when you go onto public forums that don’t involve “littlespeak or littleacts”, keep that shit to yourself! Don’t be subjecting me, non-consensually, to your stupid-ass role playing. It’s “with”, not “wif”. It’s “doggie”, not “goggie”. If my actual 4-year old son talked like you “littles” talk, he’d be in speech therapy post-haste. If he behaved like you littles behave, he’d be sitting in the corner learning how to interact with the rest of the world properly. I come onto adult forums to discuss adult topics with adults. Do you get the main point in that last sentence? Adult. So if you want to type like a brain-damaged preschooler, why the fuck are you on a sex-themed adult orientated website?! Read more…
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Appeasement and aggression

May 12th, 2010 Comments off

I was going to post about orgasm control/denial, but instead, i’ll write about last night and why i am as weird as i am.

Bedtime, and we were headed downstairs to the bedroom. i had to scoop off the clean clothes i had strewn across the bed that morning looking for socks. i was exasperated with my apparent inability to remember to come downstairs during the kids’ naptime and put the clothes away. i start to undress and He announces “I need a sweatshirt”.

i hate his sweatshirts.  For an inanimate object, they have this canny ability to get lost. It doesn’t help that He is incapable of taking them off in the same place regularly. They are tattered and stained and ugh, never in one place long enough to allow me to wash them all at once.

So we have a row about how He’s always running out of sweatshirts, how can He have 4 pairs of clean work jeans and no clean sweatshirts, i’m tired of always having something of His to wash immediately, could He maybe take His sweatshirts off in the same fucking place?! Voices raised, sarcasm flowing. He makes a comment about my inability to put clothes away. i pointed out that if He doesn’t like something, it’s on Him to change it. i need help building a routine, once it’s in, i can follow it.

At one point, it got particularly nasty and i was really peeved. So i yelled at Him. All of a sudden the finger went out, His eyes got that flat hard look and He said “Shut up and stop”. Wonders of wonders, i actually did. He came stalking towards me, stopped a little too close for my comfort, and my smile of appeasement became a fixed snarl of fearful aggression. This didn’t make Him back off like it does on most people, so i retreated a step, bumping into the door and flattening against it.  The argument was over, whether i wanted it to be or not. Read more…

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