Contact!
firm, sure
reassuring
Enfolds me
shields me
warms me
Drawing me close
protection
salvation
comforting
reaffirming
exciting
Embraceable you
Friday, July 29, 2005
Friday, July 22, 2005
07/22/05 - Friday
You know... anyone who scoffs at the idea of an intangible connection between yourself and someone you care about is deaf, dumb & blind to themselves. I think we get so tangled up in tangible proof... finding things that explain what you know... scathing looks, comments, a lack of something, a too much of something else. Sometimes "proof" just gets in the way of knowing things. I don't always listen to that silent voice inside, but I should. And I think I do listen more often than many. Something is wrong. No, not quite "wrong"... but Something is not-right. Not in a big, bold, "DANGER!" sort of way, but in a closed door with no door knob on my side of it sort of way. And I know that the person on the other side knows I'm on the other side of it. Something is not-right in a blocking access, close down the connection sort of way. I'm not omniscient (don't tell my daughter!), and I don't know why or how or for how long or what made it/makes it happen or what's going on or whether it's a conscious or unconscious thing or defensive or offensive or automatic or controlled or anything else about it except that it's there. It's like putting a perfectly clear glass box in a stream of water -- you can't see it, but you can feel it. If you know where to look, you can see that the water flows around it now... the currents change as a result of it being there. That same sense tells me there is no action I can take that will alter this in any way I'd like. I much prefer it when those senses point me towards something I can DO... but there it is. Not ready to leave yet... so I think I'll just hunker down & wait a bit. Close my eyes & watch what happens. Could be interesting! And, at least in theory, I've got allll the time in the world.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
07/20/05 - Wednesday 1
Just a couple of days ago I got what is quite possibly one of the nicest compliments of my life. The phone rang, I picked it up, said something equivilating "Hello", ('cause I almost never just say "hello", much prefering something more unsettling like "Dammit, I TOLD you I didn't do it!"... I stand backwards on elevators & talk to strangers, too.) Since the person calling me is one of those who isn't phazed in the least by such uncouth phone manners, my not-a-hello was returned with a "are you just about the coolest person I've ever known, or what?"
Now while that's really not a bad greeting with which to begin a conversation, I laughed & was ready to blow it off as just a simple rejoinder. But during the course of our conversation, it expanded... blossomed... and has continued to do so the more I think about it. I was told.. in all seriousness.. that while on first meeting me a person may conceivably decide I'm "cool" or "ok" or even "eh" or "notsamuch". But the longer someone knows me, the neater I get. The more someone knows me, the more interesting little nooks & crannies you (apparently) find in the way I think.. the things I do (or would like to do.. or would be willing to do.. or at least hear about). The more time and effort someone spends knowing me in my entirety, the better the package becomes. The more time and effort you spend, the more it glows, beckons, becomes something you want more of and want to ensure it sticks around in YOUR life for a long, long time.
No... they weren't drunk.
Now this person is themselves what I think of as mighty interesting. Made some interesting decisions in their life, has a lot of flavor in their soul, smart, loving, funny, interesting, cool to hang with, cool to cry with, a GREAT friend - definitely one of the few in my "these are the people that I know will be there to hold me together, pick up the pieces, put me back together when my world shatters in a major way" category. Really major. Like when my parents die, or if I found out I had cancer or leukemia or if something happened to my child. That kind of major. It's one thing to be told nice things about yourself from a schmooze, but this person would also tell me what a stupid ass I was if it was truth.
No... they weren't trying to get laid.
That just kicks ass, doesn't it? Not only that, but I've known this person for ... cripes... 30 years? And not all of them were good ones, either -- we had a few rough times to add some spice to our history, too. But in 30 years you'd think you'd start getting "same ol' cracker" on someone, wouldn't you? So how much better does that make hearing this?
No... they weren't asking for money either. Geesh.
Of course, they might just be freakin' nuts.
Now while that's really not a bad greeting with which to begin a conversation, I laughed & was ready to blow it off as just a simple rejoinder. But during the course of our conversation, it expanded... blossomed... and has continued to do so the more I think about it. I was told.. in all seriousness.. that while on first meeting me a person may conceivably decide I'm "cool" or "ok" or even "eh" or "notsamuch". But the longer someone knows me, the neater I get. The more someone knows me, the more interesting little nooks & crannies you (apparently) find in the way I think.. the things I do (or would like to do.. or would be willing to do.. or at least hear about). The more time and effort someone spends knowing me in my entirety, the better the package becomes. The more time and effort you spend, the more it glows, beckons, becomes something you want more of and want to ensure it sticks around in YOUR life for a long, long time.
No... they weren't drunk.
Now this person is themselves what I think of as mighty interesting. Made some interesting decisions in their life, has a lot of flavor in their soul, smart, loving, funny, interesting, cool to hang with, cool to cry with, a GREAT friend - definitely one of the few in my "these are the people that I know will be there to hold me together, pick up the pieces, put me back together when my world shatters in a major way" category. Really major. Like when my parents die, or if I found out I had cancer or leukemia or if something happened to my child. That kind of major. It's one thing to be told nice things about yourself from a schmooze, but this person would also tell me what a stupid ass I was if it was truth.
No... they weren't trying to get laid.
That just kicks ass, doesn't it? Not only that, but I've known this person for ... cripes... 30 years? And not all of them were good ones, either -- we had a few rough times to add some spice to our history, too. But in 30 years you'd think you'd start getting "same ol' cracker" on someone, wouldn't you? So how much better does that make hearing this?
No... they weren't asking for money either. Geesh.
Of course, they might just be freakin' nuts.
07/20/05 -- Wednesday 2
Oh.. yeah, in case you're wondering? Yes, they'll read my earlier post. The person I referenced is one of the *(*%&$&*&*** folks who has kindly contributed to my ever so humble 1200+ counter hits but then DOESN'T LEAVE ANY FREAKIN' COMMENTS!!!!!!
Voyeurs, every one of you.
Voyeurs, every one of you.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
07/18/05 - Somezen to Think About
In the pursuit of knowledge, every day something is added.
In the practice of the Tao, everyday something is dropped.
Less and less do you need to force things, until finally you arrive at non-action.
When nothing is done, nothing is left undone.
True mastery can be gained by letting things go their own way.
It can't be gained by interfering.
And.......
True perfection seems imperfect, yet it is perfectly itself.
True fullness seems empty, yet it is fully present.
True strength seems crooked. True wisdom seems foolish.
True art seems artless.
The Master allows things to happen.
She shapes events as they come.
She steps out of the way and lets the Tao speak for itself.
(unknown original source - thanks, Lu)
In the practice of the Tao, everyday something is dropped.
Less and less do you need to force things, until finally you arrive at non-action.
When nothing is done, nothing is left undone.
True mastery can be gained by letting things go their own way.
It can't be gained by interfering.
And.......
True perfection seems imperfect, yet it is perfectly itself.
True fullness seems empty, yet it is fully present.
True strength seems crooked. True wisdom seems foolish.
True art seems artless.
The Master allows things to happen.
She shapes events as they come.
She steps out of the way and lets the Tao speak for itself.
(unknown original source - thanks, Lu)
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Lessons from the Cat
I've always thought you can tell a lot about a person by their pets - not just what type of animal they are, but by their personalities. My cat Cassandra has a completely different personality than other cats that have gone through my life. Here are some things Cassie is teaching me / reminding me these days:
- If it feels good, purr.
- Don't use people as a springboard/launch when you can get where you want to go by jumping over them instead.
- When someone is willing to give you attention, make the most of it. Enjoy it with every ounce of your being. Visibly!
- When someone doesn't want to give you attention, take the hint fast & find somewhere else to be.
- Let people know when you want to be loved on.
- But don't take offense just because someone isn't in the mood to pet you "right now".
- Give back at least as much affection as you receive.
- Be patient with kids. When you can't stand it anymore, run & hide.
- Physical responses to antagonism should be an extreme last resort.
- Stay out of people's faces.
- Playing rough is fun sometimes, but stop when the other person says so!
- When you do play rough/bite, don't break skin.
- Sometimes it's kinda nice just to be in quiet proximity to the people you love.
- If someone hurts you, tell them so.
- Forgive quickly & easily.
- People will take care of you if you let them.
- Let them!
- If it feels good, PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, June 18, 2005
The Date: The Official News Release Version
Well… I probably shouldn't tell you this, but as long as you keep it to yourself…. Can you believe that within 20 minutes of picking me up he already had me breathing heavy? It wasn't long at all before we both broke a light sweat, & I knew that tomorrow I would be feeling muscles I had forgotten were there - especially in my thighs! Up & down, in & out, he explored every nook & cranny, carrying me along with him with in our enthusiasm - sometimes taking the initiative, sometimes letting me do the exploring. Always a willing participant. After a bit, he tried to talk me into putting some particulars of my clothes back on, but I really didn't want to, b/c I wasn't DONE yet! Well, he acquiesced in good humour & with some enthusiasm we were back at it shortly. Eventually, though, we both got peckish, decided a break was in order, put some shoes on and went for some yummy food. The cool air of the restaurant & some iced drinks helped dampen the heat we had generated between us, and after an excellent meal we went back to my house with the intent of talking a bit. Well, one thing led to another, and the equipment was really a lot slower to 'boot up', so to speak, than either of us anticipated, although once it was up & running there was certainly plenty to see! He showed me lots of things it could do, and I just know there's stuff he held back. Even holding back, the things he could do with his equipment were absolutely out of this world! I'm really hoping I get another chance to experience it another time. In the end, we decided it would really be best if he didn't spend the whole night… although it was still almost 1am before we finally parted ways with some reluctance & many small intimate stops on the way to the door. Definitely an evening I'd like to repeat~!
(It's not what it sounds like... get your mind out of the gutter!)
(It's not what it sounds like... get your mind out of the gutter!)
Friday, June 17, 2005
06/17/05 - Thought Processes II
I theorize that most people pay the most attention to the main section of blob. Many may not even see the other bits at all! However, when an idea is dropped into my head, my natural instinct is to look at the streamers and the bits BEFORE looking at the blob. I have no difficulty understanding & accepting that even though there may no longer be any clear connection between bits & blob, the bits were certainly born of blob, which makes them acceptable. Not odd. Not frightening.
Not only that, but since the bits are far more unique than the blob, what I find is that they're far more interesting to examine. The streamers and the bits take on an importance and a focus out of perspective to their actual mass. There may be LOTS more blob… but I'll ignore that completely to explore the more interesting things that are going on in the outer edges of the splatter pattern.
And I'll want to explore them all! Since I still see them all as part of the original (while still comprehending their uniqueness), I can jump from bit to disconnected bit in a flash. Thought to apparently unrelated thought.
Not only that, but since the bits are far more unique than the blob, what I find is that they're far more interesting to examine. The streamers and the bits take on an importance and a focus out of perspective to their actual mass. There may be LOTS more blob… but I'll ignore that completely to explore the more interesting things that are going on in the outer edges of the splatter pattern.
And I'll want to explore them all! Since I still see them all as part of the original (while still comprehending their uniqueness), I can jump from bit to disconnected bit in a flash. Thought to apparently unrelated thought.
06/17/05 - Thought Processes I
Picture what happens when you drop a dollop of something semi-liquidy to the ground from a height of several feet. Go do it if you need to so you really have a good visual. Yogurt maybe. Or cottage cheese. See how the majority of the stuff stays where it impacted? Think of that dollop of stuff you dropped as the germ of an idea. Then think of that space where the majority of stuff stayed as the range of thought that, when a idea is dropped into their psyche, most people encompass, most of the time.
Now look at the rest of the mess. See how bits of the stuff also shot out in every direction? You have streamers of stuff still connected to the mass by thin strands that stretch out aways - some short, some long. You also have bits that became disconnected from the mass completely, forming tiny blobs of their own… often farther from initial impact than you would have imagined.
Imagine cleaning up the main mess - everything that's connected - and walk away. You can imagine how someone coming along later may not grasp how those outlying tiny bits (that weren't connected, therefore were not cleaned up) came to be there. There are no longer any clues - no visual connection - to explain how they came into being. It would be a mystery to them. Odd. Annoying. Maybe even frightening.
Now expand your splatter off of a flat surface & into more dimensions: gently pop a suspended water balloon or something. You will find that you can somewhat control the majority of the splatter based on how hard you were pushing when you popped it, and in what direction you were pushing. But you can't control all of the stuff - some bits will splatter the opposite way, and no matter what, you've got bits going in more directions than you did when you were simply hitting the floor.
Drop an idea into a mind… the splatter pattern is phenomenal.
Now look at the rest of the mess. See how bits of the stuff also shot out in every direction? You have streamers of stuff still connected to the mass by thin strands that stretch out aways - some short, some long. You also have bits that became disconnected from the mass completely, forming tiny blobs of their own… often farther from initial impact than you would have imagined.
Imagine cleaning up the main mess - everything that's connected - and walk away. You can imagine how someone coming along later may not grasp how those outlying tiny bits (that weren't connected, therefore were not cleaned up) came to be there. There are no longer any clues - no visual connection - to explain how they came into being. It would be a mystery to them. Odd. Annoying. Maybe even frightening.
Now expand your splatter off of a flat surface & into more dimensions: gently pop a suspended water balloon or something. You will find that you can somewhat control the majority of the splatter based on how hard you were pushing when you popped it, and in what direction you were pushing. But you can't control all of the stuff - some bits will splatter the opposite way, and no matter what, you've got bits going in more directions than you did when you were simply hitting the floor.
Drop an idea into a mind… the splatter pattern is phenomenal.
Questions Hard to Answer
"How are you feeling?", he asks
How am I?
I'm standing.. teetering…
On the edge of a very lovely precipice
Over which to fall would not be a bad thing
Would be stunning
Lovely
Kaleidescopic sensations course through me
Bouncing
Rebounding
Telescoping
The part of me that thinks .. that controls… that maintains sanity
Shuts down,
Or at least runs gibbering into a tiny silent corner and cowers
I'm left with sensations… emotions (because they're tied one to another)
And no real 'one' left inside me to hold them down
Just a placekeeper, really… a sort of dummy pilot
Whose only real purpose is to maintain some basic functions
I can do nothing here but cling desperately
To the ragged edges of sanity that are blowing in the winds of this maelstrom
Forming words is difficult. Thoughts nearly impossible.
You are my only anchor
This physical contact with you
Where skin touches skin
Where the warmth of your body leaks into mine
Warming… Healing…
Providing a glowing link.. a psychic umbilical cord
To that which remains constant
You replace the very ground as my point of contact
My hold on this Earth… this self
You become that which is stable
Safe
Trustworthy
I have in me a pilot who loves to fly these sorts of coursing storms
She screams and begs and writhes
Sobs wrenchingly
To be let out
When she flies
She laughs in the face of danger! teeth bared she looks excitement in the eye
And laughs a wild free laugh
infectious
Lives for the moment… to the Devil with what may come tomorrow
Inside, I gag her, quiet her, soothe her
drop promises on her like lollipops
That I know I may not be able to keep
Of another tomorrow
Anything to keep her quiet … enough
Sane… enough
Lulled… enough
That she doesn't wrench control from me and run with the wind
Which would be desperately lovely, and wild, and free
The vista is .. panoramic
Oh, so inviting
Tempting
Tantalizing
No!
Why?
Because you must come with me
If you don't also let go the earth and fly
We will drop like stones to the rocks below
We will separate in the winds
Lose one another in the mists of time
Screaming
Crying
Calling
Yearning
Devastating betrayals of soul and self… and other
Where you touch me now
Where our hands clasp
Where skin touches skin
Is at this moment my only anchor to both self and other
While you anchor yourself to earth still
If we're going to fly
You must come with me
Let go the earth
Course the winds
I can look at you
Entice you
I want to show you all this stunning beauty I see
I sense
Just over this precipice
I know it's there on nothing but faith
No concrete evidence
No promises
No guarantees
I can beg you with every molecule of self
Every bit of me…
Every bit but my voice
To hear… look… feel
Let go the earth
I won't push you, laughing… although she might
(Hence the lollipops)
Come with me willingly
Oh, please… come fly
~~06/17/05
How am I?
I'm standing.. teetering…
On the edge of a very lovely precipice
Over which to fall would not be a bad thing
Would be stunning
Lovely
Kaleidescopic sensations course through me
Bouncing
Rebounding
Telescoping
The part of me that thinks .. that controls… that maintains sanity
Shuts down,
Or at least runs gibbering into a tiny silent corner and cowers
I'm left with sensations… emotions (because they're tied one to another)
And no real 'one' left inside me to hold them down
Just a placekeeper, really… a sort of dummy pilot
Whose only real purpose is to maintain some basic functions
I can do nothing here but cling desperately
To the ragged edges of sanity that are blowing in the winds of this maelstrom
Forming words is difficult. Thoughts nearly impossible.
You are my only anchor
This physical contact with you
Where skin touches skin
Where the warmth of your body leaks into mine
Warming… Healing…
Providing a glowing link.. a psychic umbilical cord
To that which remains constant
You replace the very ground as my point of contact
My hold on this Earth… this self
You become that which is stable
Safe
Trustworthy
I have in me a pilot who loves to fly these sorts of coursing storms
She screams and begs and writhes
Sobs wrenchingly
To be let out
When she flies
She laughs in the face of danger! teeth bared she looks excitement in the eye
And laughs a wild free laugh
infectious
Lives for the moment… to the Devil with what may come tomorrow
Inside, I gag her, quiet her, soothe her
drop promises on her like lollipops
That I know I may not be able to keep
Of another tomorrow
Anything to keep her quiet … enough
Sane… enough
Lulled… enough
That she doesn't wrench control from me and run with the wind
Which would be desperately lovely, and wild, and free
The vista is .. panoramic
Oh, so inviting
Tempting
Tantalizing
No!
Why?
Because you must come with me
If you don't also let go the earth and fly
We will drop like stones to the rocks below
We will separate in the winds
Lose one another in the mists of time
Screaming
Crying
Calling
Yearning
Devastating betrayals of soul and self… and other
Where you touch me now
Where our hands clasp
Where skin touches skin
Is at this moment my only anchor to both self and other
While you anchor yourself to earth still
If we're going to fly
You must come with me
Let go the earth
Course the winds
I can look at you
Entice you
I want to show you all this stunning beauty I see
I sense
Just over this precipice
I know it's there on nothing but faith
No concrete evidence
No promises
No guarantees
I can beg you with every molecule of self
Every bit of me…
Every bit but my voice
To hear… look… feel
Let go the earth
I won't push you, laughing… although she might
(Hence the lollipops)
Come with me willingly
Oh, please… come fly
~~06/17/05
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
An Invitation (work in progress)
lie naked with me
on hot summer sand
hear the gulls as they fly
feel the waves beat primal rhythms against the shore
lie naked with me
under a dark nights' sky
while the fireflies flirt
hear the crickets dance, the bullfrogs sing
and with me watch the fires of the universe turn
lie naked with me
on the green, green grass
let ladybugs tickle our toes
let warm winds ruffle our hair
while musky scent wafts from sun warmed skin
lie naked with me
stare blindly at the sky
arms raised resting
let me bathe myself in azure pools
til I drown & come alive again
lie naked with me
where our souls unbend
gently soften my angles
help me be a better self... a better me
til the curves of my self please your touch
lie naked with me
with covers thrown off
where passion has havoc wreaked
lend your soul... give your whole
flesh's pleasures finely tweaked
lie naked with me
as the tides wax & wane
as the sun & the moon chase
one another across our sky
lie with me while our skies darken and mortal eyes grow dim
lie naked with me
on some lazy afternoon
draw circles on my skin
watch the dust motes dance in the sunbeams
forget with me the world without, share the world within
~~ 06/2005
on hot summer sand
hear the gulls as they fly
feel the waves beat primal rhythms against the shore
lie naked with me
under a dark nights' sky
while the fireflies flirt
hear the crickets dance, the bullfrogs sing
and with me watch the fires of the universe turn
lie naked with me
on the green, green grass
let ladybugs tickle our toes
let warm winds ruffle our hair
while musky scent wafts from sun warmed skin
lie naked with me
stare blindly at the sky
arms raised resting
let me bathe myself in azure pools
til I drown & come alive again
lie naked with me
where our souls unbend
gently soften my angles
help me be a better self... a better me
til the curves of my self please your touch
lie naked with me
with covers thrown off
where passion has havoc wreaked
lend your soul... give your whole
flesh's pleasures finely tweaked
lie naked with me
as the tides wax & wane
as the sun & the moon chase
one another across our sky
lie with me while our skies darken and mortal eyes grow dim
lie naked with me
on some lazy afternoon
draw circles on my skin
watch the dust motes dance in the sunbeams
forget with me the world without, share the world within
~~ 06/2005
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
06/07/05 - Tuesday
Holding out. That's pretty much what I've been doing for YEARS now. Yeah, years. Doesn't that suck? Holding out for something the great big bad world defines as "perfect". For a relationship with a single human being that fills all those emotional, physical, and practical needs that clamour in cacaphony inside, begging for surcease - for a similar soul with whom to gibber in empathy in the long dark tea time of the soul. I haven't always thought along with the masses - there was a time when I was very flexible in considering options that Fate tossed my way! Then somewhere along the line I thought I'd give conservative a try, and got stubborn, started slamming doors on possibilities when they didn't meet the almighty criteria of the socially innane. Think Dharma v. Kitty ;-)
So where has that gotten me? Well... single, mostly. And why? Primarily because in getting sucked into those confines, I was unable to let go of the elite criteria. God forbid that I do things half way... if I'm gonna have to find "the one", then dammit, he's gonna be the ONE!
The little voice in my head gibbers away to itself.
I stopped to listen to it the other day... it's been a long time since I did that, too. That little voice has gotten more conservative as time has passed, but it still had some thoughts of its own that maybe I really ought to listen to. Perhaps it's happened before & I didn't notice it, but I seem to have a lovely confluence of people in my life right now. No "one", but perhaps... just perhaps... more than one that in combination does exactly what I was looking for in one.
One man: intelligent, witty, stunningly attractive, enjoys my company.... at least when I relax & let him enjoy it in his own way! A lover of life & all that's in it, including most of the people. Positively oriented to a degree that sets an undemanding example for everyone around him -- I notice that. I marvel at it, and since I learn best by rote, he helps me be a better person just by being in proximity. He glows with something golden, something Leonine. Warm & buttery, sun-drenched, wild & fierce. Doing little, he tosses the butterflies in my stomach into the air to create a stunning mosaic of fluttering emotions. He arouses a low growl of passion in me that he refuses to sate. He fills something in me I can't quite put my finger on, makes me crave ever so much more... that I don't think he can(?) will(?) give. But what if? What if I found that "more" somewhere else & just let him be who & what he is?
One man: intelligent, witty, very attractive, apparently enjoys my company. Hauling some emotional and historical baggage that he uses to buffer himself from people like clutching in front of him a huge overstuffed punching bag while the world takes pot shots at him. I adore his blunt honesty, his willingness to toss all the garbage into the fray & stand there saying "all that? yeah, that's mine." Waiting for the people around him to scoff, scorn, shred his flimsy bravado into the winds with simple condemnation. He is in agony to be loved... to love... and yet even loving won't fill the gaping maw inside around which his mind circles and circles frantically... unceasing. Probably nothing will. He can only give just so much before his mind goes tripping off elsewhere, and over the years he's learned how to ask questions, how to be there physically to conceal from whoever he's with that he just took a spill over into the abyss & left them behind. He's tried a bizillion things to stop the gibbering, nothing works for more than moments, if that. He may spend his life trying to fill that hole and never really grasp that it can't be filled, although I suspect he's beginning to get it. It can be contained, and occasionally sated juust enough to be ignored for awhile... but not filled. What does he want from me? Intimacy. Physical release combined with conversation... perhaps even communion. A place to toss out those needs and fears, likes, hopes, wants... have them be accepted, mulled over, picked through & finally deemed "not so bad". A place where a physical union confirms in the most primal way possible "you're ok... really... I like you still." I get that! I soooo get that. I can give that. There are many things he probably can't give.. and it's premature to think this... but what if? What if I found that "more" somewhere else & just let him be who & what he is?
One man: Well... this spot's still open, but it would be that someone who could & would be by my side, sharing my friends, my days, my daughter, my life. Someone who holds my hand & kisses me chastely, sweetly on the forehead to express his affection. Someone who will wrap their arms around me & let me rest my head on their shoulder not only in the privacy of our home, but at a parade. In line at the movies. At my parents' house. At his. Not "the one", but someone intelligent, witty, attractive, who adores me. (see a trend here? lol) Someone for whom I fill a need too. Someone to DO things with -- restaurants offer "two for one" deals that suck when you're just one. Movies are better shared, even if you share them in silence. Books are nicer read with someone by your side. Days are nicer when you have someone to talk to at the end of them. Troubles are nicer when you have someone you can count on to lend a hand.. or an ear... or a shoulder. The yard gets mowed quicker, the house cleaner, meals are more friendly when you do it with someone. My need for time alone - and a lot of it - is demanding. An actual physical need. But there are a lot of hours in a year... and once a need is sated, there's gotta be something else there, too. Maybe this guy wouldn't be around to sate lust, maybe he wouldn't touch that inner glow I can't quite define... maybe he wouldn't even be all that bright.But sometimes just BEING there is worth forgiving a world of sins. So what if? What if I found that "more" somewhere else & just let him be who & what he is?
One: Ha! One? ONE? I quit. My Dad always did tell me I did everything bass-ackwards, and you know what? I seem to recall that bass-ackwards WORKS for me. The world may have just tossed two of the triad I just described smack in my lap (again), and I think this time I'm going to pay some damn attention. At least I'm going to try! Maybe one or both of these two guys would even expand some naturally if I let them, & I wouldn't need the third. Maybe "the one" would even happen along if I stopped looking. But you know what? For now, I've got lessons to learn from both of these people... love to give them, time to make for them, and there's healing to go 'round for all of us.
What do you think? Does it stand a chance in hell of actually working?
So where has that gotten me? Well... single, mostly. And why? Primarily because in getting sucked into those confines, I was unable to let go of the elite criteria. God forbid that I do things half way... if I'm gonna have to find "the one", then dammit, he's gonna be the ONE!
The little voice in my head gibbers away to itself.
I stopped to listen to it the other day... it's been a long time since I did that, too. That little voice has gotten more conservative as time has passed, but it still had some thoughts of its own that maybe I really ought to listen to. Perhaps it's happened before & I didn't notice it, but I seem to have a lovely confluence of people in my life right now. No "one", but perhaps... just perhaps... more than one that in combination does exactly what I was looking for in one.
One man: intelligent, witty, stunningly attractive, enjoys my company.... at least when I relax & let him enjoy it in his own way! A lover of life & all that's in it, including most of the people. Positively oriented to a degree that sets an undemanding example for everyone around him -- I notice that. I marvel at it, and since I learn best by rote, he helps me be a better person just by being in proximity. He glows with something golden, something Leonine. Warm & buttery, sun-drenched, wild & fierce. Doing little, he tosses the butterflies in my stomach into the air to create a stunning mosaic of fluttering emotions. He arouses a low growl of passion in me that he refuses to sate. He fills something in me I can't quite put my finger on, makes me crave ever so much more... that I don't think he can(?) will(?) give. But what if? What if I found that "more" somewhere else & just let him be who & what he is?
One man: intelligent, witty, very attractive, apparently enjoys my company. Hauling some emotional and historical baggage that he uses to buffer himself from people like clutching in front of him a huge overstuffed punching bag while the world takes pot shots at him. I adore his blunt honesty, his willingness to toss all the garbage into the fray & stand there saying "all that? yeah, that's mine." Waiting for the people around him to scoff, scorn, shred his flimsy bravado into the winds with simple condemnation. He is in agony to be loved... to love... and yet even loving won't fill the gaping maw inside around which his mind circles and circles frantically... unceasing. Probably nothing will. He can only give just so much before his mind goes tripping off elsewhere, and over the years he's learned how to ask questions, how to be there physically to conceal from whoever he's with that he just took a spill over into the abyss & left them behind. He's tried a bizillion things to stop the gibbering, nothing works for more than moments, if that. He may spend his life trying to fill that hole and never really grasp that it can't be filled, although I suspect he's beginning to get it. It can be contained, and occasionally sated juust enough to be ignored for awhile... but not filled. What does he want from me? Intimacy. Physical release combined with conversation... perhaps even communion. A place to toss out those needs and fears, likes, hopes, wants... have them be accepted, mulled over, picked through & finally deemed "not so bad". A place where a physical union confirms in the most primal way possible "you're ok... really... I like you still." I get that! I soooo get that. I can give that. There are many things he probably can't give.. and it's premature to think this... but what if? What if I found that "more" somewhere else & just let him be who & what he is?
One man: Well... this spot's still open, but it would be that someone who could & would be by my side, sharing my friends, my days, my daughter, my life. Someone who holds my hand & kisses me chastely, sweetly on the forehead to express his affection. Someone who will wrap their arms around me & let me rest my head on their shoulder not only in the privacy of our home, but at a parade. In line at the movies. At my parents' house. At his. Not "the one", but someone intelligent, witty, attractive, who adores me. (see a trend here? lol) Someone for whom I fill a need too. Someone to DO things with -- restaurants offer "two for one" deals that suck when you're just one. Movies are better shared, even if you share them in silence. Books are nicer read with someone by your side. Days are nicer when you have someone to talk to at the end of them. Troubles are nicer when you have someone you can count on to lend a hand.. or an ear... or a shoulder. The yard gets mowed quicker, the house cleaner, meals are more friendly when you do it with someone. My need for time alone - and a lot of it - is demanding. An actual physical need. But there are a lot of hours in a year... and once a need is sated, there's gotta be something else there, too. Maybe this guy wouldn't be around to sate lust, maybe he wouldn't touch that inner glow I can't quite define... maybe he wouldn't even be all that bright.
One: Ha! One? ONE? I quit. My Dad always did tell me I did everything bass-ackwards, and you know what? I seem to recall that bass-ackwards WORKS for me. The world may have just tossed two of the triad I just described smack in my lap (again), and I think this time I'm going to pay some damn attention. At least I'm going to try! Maybe one or both of these two guys would even expand some naturally if I let them, & I wouldn't need the third. Maybe "the one" would even happen along if I stopped looking. But you know what? For now, I've got lessons to learn from both of these people... love to give them, time to make for them, and there's healing to go 'round for all of us.
What do you think? Does it stand a chance in hell of actually working?
Friday, June 03, 2005
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
05/31/05 - Tuesday
"But what is a tease? A cruel misdirection? Or simply a lure?"
" flirt...tease... semantics! Although now that I think about it, I could split the hair thus: A flirt is a false lure with a future promise peeking from behind it... a tease is a false lure with a dead end in its wake."
So which are you?
"
So which are you?
Friday, May 27, 2005
Tuesday, May 24, 2005 4:50 PM
> > Short emails warrant short replies. That's important> when> > I'm short on time, regardless of the fact that you're> short> > on patience. :)
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
05/24/05 - Tuesday
OMG, but some days just SUCK! What a freakin' crappy-ass day. (Except lunch. Lunch was lovely.) It's been a curl up in the fetal position & just cry sort of day. And it's not even DONE yet! The cat took one look at me when I got home & ran.
Some people should be shot, others strung up by their big toes, a few tasks that I really think would be better served by some TNT..... I'd blame it on the full moon, but I'm rather fond of the moon.
Luckily, I have a wonderful friend who had a remarkably similar sort of day, & after some mutual commiseration, we decided that it would do us no good whatsoever to continue to whine & moan about our own lousy stinkin' crappy day because after one good bitch, that's just self-centered. Therefore, we agreed that sometime this evening, we would each go scream, rant, cry at the moon, fetal-up and quiver... whatever we felt like... but instead of bemoaning our own fate as we whimpered, we'd each think solely of the other, put ourselves in the other's shoes & try to appreciate how truly crappy THEY felt today, and vent as needed on the other person's behalf. An attempt at intrinsic empathy.
Gimme just a few more minutes & I'll give it a go.....
Some people should be shot, others strung up by their big toes, a few tasks that I really think would be better served by some TNT..... I'd blame it on the full moon, but I'm rather fond of the moon.
Luckily, I have a wonderful friend who had a remarkably similar sort of day, & after some mutual commiseration, we decided that it would do us no good whatsoever to continue to whine & moan about our own lousy stinkin' crappy day because after one good bitch, that's just self-centered. Therefore, we agreed that sometime this evening, we would each go scream, rant, cry at the moon, fetal-up and quiver... whatever we felt like... but instead of bemoaning our own fate as we whimpered, we'd each think solely of the other, put ourselves in the other's shoes & try to appreciate how truly crappy THEY felt today, and vent as needed on the other person's behalf. An attempt at intrinsic empathy.
Gimme just a few more minutes & I'll give it a go.....
Friday, May 20, 2005
05/20/05 - Friday
You walk in my door like you belong here. As though you've done it a thousand times. And yet your eyes are on me as though a thousand more won't ease the wonderful novelty of belonging here.. and now. A smile dances around the corners of your lips. A laugh sparkles playfully in eyes that are impossibly, drowningly blue. You don't pause when you come in... and look at me... the way they've staged it in a thousand movies. You come straight in and sit next to me, claiming ownership once again of one corner of my couch. You tell me about your day - like you've done it that thousand times and more. The familiarity... the normalcy... the simplicity of it takes my breath away.
Your lips are always each time I see you softer even than I remember. When you're speaking, your tounge is so impossibly pink teasing me as it flits and peeks and teases from between those two full-to-bursting lips, also a pink that belies description. Were you a woman, I'd compare rose buds... or the moist pink nose of a cat. You're not, and so I am lost in my metaphors. But they tease me, they tempt me, and I desire.
Sometimes, while we're talking, you suddenly sort of dive in and just "steal" a kiss... except it's not stolen, because to "steal" it would mean it was not there for your taking. That my lips were not in some recent collection of moments willing yours to mine. And sometimes when our lips meet, it becomes just you & I adrift somewhere... selves dancing in some lovely medium where nothing else matters except the dance and play of us, one against and with the other. I adore all the ways that you kiss me.
I could ... possibly... fall in love with someone who kisses me like that. Not just like that, but all the ways that you kiss me. You give me kisses that can make me consider the possibilities in hellos and goodbyes that come every morning and every evening. The kind that have happened so many thousands of times that neither of us think of them any longer as anything but one of the bits of a long-established daily routine. The kind that come complete with "hi honey, I'm home", and washing dishes, compromises, mowing the lawn, and life-changing events, and mundanity, and sometimes fighting, but always making up.
Can you make me feel that way in more than scattered fragments of time? Can you carry it through a thousand times? Through days that are bad as well as good? Special days as well as those that are heavy with a sense of 'same ol' cracker? A thousand times & more? More often than just when you "feel like it"? Can you do that? Can you be that?
Do you want to?
Your lips are always each time I see you softer even than I remember. When you're speaking, your tounge is so impossibly pink teasing me as it flits and peeks and teases from between those two full-to-bursting lips, also a pink that belies description. Were you a woman, I'd compare rose buds... or the moist pink nose of a cat. You're not, and so I am lost in my metaphors. But they tease me, they tempt me, and I desire.
Sometimes, while we're talking, you suddenly sort of dive in and just "steal" a kiss... except it's not stolen, because to "steal" it would mean it was not there for your taking. That my lips were not in some recent collection of moments willing yours to mine. And sometimes when our lips meet, it becomes just you & I adrift somewhere... selves dancing in some lovely medium where nothing else matters except the dance and play of us, one against and with the other. I adore all the ways that you kiss me.
I could ... possibly... fall in love with someone who kisses me like that. Not just like that, but all the ways that you kiss me. You give me kisses that can make me consider the possibilities in hellos and goodbyes that come every morning and every evening. The kind that have happened so many thousands of times that neither of us think of them any longer as anything but one of the bits of a long-established daily routine. The kind that come complete with "hi honey, I'm home", and washing dishes, compromises, mowing the lawn, and life-changing events, and mundanity, and sometimes fighting, but always making up.
Can you make me feel that way in more than scattered fragments of time? Can you carry it through a thousand times? Through days that are bad as well as good? Special days as well as those that are heavy with a sense of 'same ol' cracker? A thousand times & more? More often than just when you "feel like it"? Can you do that? Can you be that?
Do you want to?
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Art to Passion
This month, Zero Boss's Blogging For Books asks us to write an original blog post about one of three topics: lying, fornicating, or going home.
I missed the entry date 'cause I'm a schmuck... but I like the topic(s), so I'll put this out here anyway. (So there!) It's my blog, I can type if I want to.
**********
There is an art to passion.
--In letting it simmer and steep like tea leaves.
--Stirring every so often so the leaves don't stick to the pot and
turn the brew bitter.
You might begin with a look, a glimmer in the eye caught and returned. Then the faintest of touches in passing, sending shimmers of electricity along her skin. Shared laughter lilting in the breeze might nest in your soul and draw you closer. And anticipation, the best seasoning for so fine a brew. Just the faintest sense of unknowing…..yet knowing….where this will lead you.
Faint trace of fingernails on skin, ruffling the tiny hairs along your arms. Aimlessly wandering your body, no goal, no intention to their direction. At once soothing and stimulating.
You relax, muscle by muscle. The days', the weeks' tension flows out of you as the slow, constant whisper of skin on skin goes on. From that loosening of tension slowly rises a languid sense of passion. The clock slips away until finally the night is yours. It stretches endlessly before you -- your playground. You are no longer focused towards a goal, but utterly content to bathe in sensations as one flows into another: Timeless rhythms as seductive as the heartbeat of the earth.
Fingernails and fingertips: faint tracings brushing across sensitized skin. Small forgotten corners of your body weep as they are found and rejoined through touch. The tiniest crevasse in the crook of your arm joins its broader bicep cousin, flowing into the back of your arm where shoulder meets armpit and curves into side and then chest. Broad swathes take nails down your back where sides meet back, then back up along your spine. Brush softly that sweet hollow in your lower back, covered in tiny sensitive hairs to touch softly as a breath of air. Light furrows raked across pale buttocks of flesh, framing them in pale pink lines. The lightest flicker of touch along the line where buttocks meet--so vulnerable, so sensitive to a wing-like flutter. Teasing with an almost-there caress, they flinch and contract and beg for more.
Down your thigh, strong muscles outlined in moonlight and nail polish, defined in burnished passion's heat. Back of the knee, feather light, then over calves' curve to the ankle. Nails change to fingertips to hand cupping your heels, across the tender sole of foot and toes, each individualized, separated, recognized. Finger drawn between each tiny foot's finger, skin rarely recognized leaping to obey. And back up that foot, delicate bones traced quickly by soft strong hands. Ankle, calves brushed lightly along the sides as hands slide up your leg, over knee and meander across thighs taut with a different tension. Forever they climb, slowly, oh so slowly back and forth across your thigh. The sensation spreads & tingles from legs to toes to buttocks to groin, electric pulses oh so slightly slower than the touch of nails to skin.
Tension mounts, and that soft plateau where thigh meets hip meets belly pulses. Touch explodes into a fiercer rhythm, heart pulsing to its beat. I can feel its rhythm through that delicate skin.
Upwards towards its source. Tiny goose pimples of flesh greet me as I brush your belly. Soft gasps of inhaled breath fill the silent dark with sound as I tease the softest trail of hair in treasure's triangle. But those teasing, grazing hands move onwards up away from that throbbing bent of passion. Your whole body begs to be touched. Up, up, outlining ribs and feeling each quick shallow indrawn breath.
Circling round and round tiny nipples hard as pebbles on a rocky beach. They leave. They pause the space of an exhaled breath, and on that breath's last wings, they touch. Tiny ripples of fire straight from nipple tips to groin to toes, body connected in electric sting.
Mouth descends to join the dance, hot moist breath felt oh, so softly in the crook of your neck. In the silence, the parting of lips is felt as clearly as the closing of teeth lightly on your earlobe. The tiniest of moans is as audible as your heartbeat, our breath, in the stillness of this night.
My lips trace the path my fingers have flown as we move together effortlessly, touch and sensation merging in this passion's dance. Along the outlines of shoulder blades and spine, the faintest touch of tongue makes you arch your back in involuntary response. Soft lips tease your contours, pale cheeks of flesh quiver and tense as they are gently probed. And again, contours fully outlined, the crease of buttock and thigh so often forgotten is paid homage by the lightest flicker of tongue.
Soft skin trailed to the back of the knee, hot warm mouth open and sucking widely on that skin while tongue rolls across it. Down taut calves and to the foot's benediction. Each individual toe is immersed into this hot, wet mouth for a moment of blind sensation. And up, up again come lips and hands, across miles of skin begging to be caressed yet again.
I ignore passion's plateau, toying with bellybutton and taunting the tiny hairs with my chin. My hair brushes across your belly randomly, flickering onto unteased areas. Up your chest to where I began, where neck meets chest meets shoulders, earlobe getting the lightest of nips. Across your shoulders, down outstretched arms, your mind's eye follows my mouth in the dark.
Teeth graze your palm followed by tongue, then each finger is drawn deep into that mouth, surrounded by heat and tongue, teeth grazing callused tips in rough sensation. Sucking, pulling, each part of your body drawn into and through those fingers as they writhe helplessly in passion's grasp.
Back up your arms, to chest, lips toy aimlessly across it's breadth then graze nipples, tiny pebbled nipples straining t be kissed. They are immersed. Tongue toys with them as I suckle on that begging flesh. Your fingers twine in my hair as your whole body throbs in response.
And as I suckle there, teasing and tweaking nipple's peaks, my fingers inch downward, nails leaving a trail of crescent moons until they reach that soft plateau of hip and belly. They twirl there softly and I release your nipple with my mouth, only to take it up again, lightly rolling it between thumb and finger.
Mouth descends on mouth and tongues duel for love or lust. Hot wet maelstrom of kisses, mouth locked on mouth sucking and demanding surcease. Fingers curve and nails dig into that soft spot on thigh-belly. Digging deeply into that pleasure nerve, nipple explodes and mouth explodes and cock explodes into passion's grasp. I take your cries into my mouth and my body presses against yours--anchor in sensation's storm. And as that storm subsides, the still warm press of flesh on flesh melts oh, so slowly into exhausted passion's aftermath, curled in my embrace and ravished in our storm.
I missed the entry date 'cause I'm a schmuck... but I like the topic(s), so I'll put this out here anyway. (So there!) It's my blog, I can type if I want to.
**********
There is an art to passion.
--In letting it simmer and steep like tea leaves.
--Stirring every so often so the leaves don't stick to the pot and
turn the brew bitter.
You might begin with a look, a glimmer in the eye caught and returned. Then the faintest of touches in passing, sending shimmers of electricity along her skin. Shared laughter lilting in the breeze might nest in your soul and draw you closer. And anticipation, the best seasoning for so fine a brew. Just the faintest sense of unknowing…..yet knowing….where this will lead you.
Faint trace of fingernails on skin, ruffling the tiny hairs along your arms. Aimlessly wandering your body, no goal, no intention to their direction. At once soothing and stimulating.
You relax, muscle by muscle. The days', the weeks' tension flows out of you as the slow, constant whisper of skin on skin goes on. From that loosening of tension slowly rises a languid sense of passion. The clock slips away until finally the night is yours. It stretches endlessly before you -- your playground. You are no longer focused towards a goal, but utterly content to bathe in sensations as one flows into another: Timeless rhythms as seductive as the heartbeat of the earth.
Fingernails and fingertips: faint tracings brushing across sensitized skin. Small forgotten corners of your body weep as they are found and rejoined through touch. The tiniest crevasse in the crook of your arm joins its broader bicep cousin, flowing into the back of your arm where shoulder meets armpit and curves into side and then chest. Broad swathes take nails down your back where sides meet back, then back up along your spine. Brush softly that sweet hollow in your lower back, covered in tiny sensitive hairs to touch softly as a breath of air. Light furrows raked across pale buttocks of flesh, framing them in pale pink lines. The lightest flicker of touch along the line where buttocks meet--so vulnerable, so sensitive to a wing-like flutter. Teasing with an almost-there caress, they flinch and contract and beg for more.
Down your thigh, strong muscles outlined in moonlight and nail polish, defined in burnished passion's heat. Back of the knee, feather light, then over calves' curve to the ankle. Nails change to fingertips to hand cupping your heels, across the tender sole of foot and toes, each individualized, separated, recognized. Finger drawn between each tiny foot's finger, skin rarely recognized leaping to obey. And back up that foot, delicate bones traced quickly by soft strong hands. Ankle, calves brushed lightly along the sides as hands slide up your leg, over knee and meander across thighs taut with a different tension. Forever they climb, slowly, oh so slowly back and forth across your thigh. The sensation spreads & tingles from legs to toes to buttocks to groin, electric pulses oh so slightly slower than the touch of nails to skin.
Tension mounts, and that soft plateau where thigh meets hip meets belly pulses. Touch explodes into a fiercer rhythm, heart pulsing to its beat. I can feel its rhythm through that delicate skin.
Upwards towards its source. Tiny goose pimples of flesh greet me as I brush your belly. Soft gasps of inhaled breath fill the silent dark with sound as I tease the softest trail of hair in treasure's triangle. But those teasing, grazing hands move onwards up away from that throbbing bent of passion. Your whole body begs to be touched. Up, up, outlining ribs and feeling each quick shallow indrawn breath.
Circling round and round tiny nipples hard as pebbles on a rocky beach. They leave. They pause the space of an exhaled breath, and on that breath's last wings, they touch. Tiny ripples of fire straight from nipple tips to groin to toes, body connected in electric sting.
Mouth descends to join the dance, hot moist breath felt oh, so softly in the crook of your neck. In the silence, the parting of lips is felt as clearly as the closing of teeth lightly on your earlobe. The tiniest of moans is as audible as your heartbeat, our breath, in the stillness of this night.
My lips trace the path my fingers have flown as we move together effortlessly, touch and sensation merging in this passion's dance. Along the outlines of shoulder blades and spine, the faintest touch of tongue makes you arch your back in involuntary response. Soft lips tease your contours, pale cheeks of flesh quiver and tense as they are gently probed. And again, contours fully outlined, the crease of buttock and thigh so often forgotten is paid homage by the lightest flicker of tongue.
Soft skin trailed to the back of the knee, hot warm mouth open and sucking widely on that skin while tongue rolls across it. Down taut calves and to the foot's benediction. Each individual toe is immersed into this hot, wet mouth for a moment of blind sensation. And up, up again come lips and hands, across miles of skin begging to be caressed yet again.
I ignore passion's plateau, toying with bellybutton and taunting the tiny hairs with my chin. My hair brushes across your belly randomly, flickering onto unteased areas. Up your chest to where I began, where neck meets chest meets shoulders, earlobe getting the lightest of nips. Across your shoulders, down outstretched arms, your mind's eye follows my mouth in the dark.
Teeth graze your palm followed by tongue, then each finger is drawn deep into that mouth, surrounded by heat and tongue, teeth grazing callused tips in rough sensation. Sucking, pulling, each part of your body drawn into and through those fingers as they writhe helplessly in passion's grasp.
Back up your arms, to chest, lips toy aimlessly across it's breadth then graze nipples, tiny pebbled nipples straining t be kissed. They are immersed. Tongue toys with them as I suckle on that begging flesh. Your fingers twine in my hair as your whole body throbs in response.
And as I suckle there, teasing and tweaking nipple's peaks, my fingers inch downward, nails leaving a trail of crescent moons until they reach that soft plateau of hip and belly. They twirl there softly and I release your nipple with my mouth, only to take it up again, lightly rolling it between thumb and finger.
Mouth descends on mouth and tongues duel for love or lust. Hot wet maelstrom of kisses, mouth locked on mouth sucking and demanding surcease. Fingers curve and nails dig into that soft spot on thigh-belly. Digging deeply into that pleasure nerve, nipple explodes and mouth explodes and cock explodes into passion's grasp. I take your cries into my mouth and my body presses against yours--anchor in sensation's storm. And as that storm subsides, the still warm press of flesh on flesh melts oh, so slowly into exhausted passion's aftermath, curled in my embrace and ravished in our storm.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
05/03/05 - Tuesday
My daughter is such a sweet little pain in the ass. And a bit of a hypocondriac to boot. But I have to say.. I was SO proud of her yesterday! Bad mommy lost track of the calendar & didn't realize until 3am Monday morning that 9am was rolling around quickly, and on it's heels was coming.. the Kindergarten physical. We'd been talking about "going to the Dr", next week to be followed by "going to the dentist", both of which are normally a grand event in her little life. She gets SO excited, the buildup between making the appt & actually going almost drives her insane. But... well... you parents out there know what sort of nasty surprize comes with the K physical, don't you? Yeah. Shots. Several of 'em. And I forgot about this appt, so no opportunity to mentally prepare her for potential nastiness. Maybe that was just as well?
First the TB test, which elicited just a bit of a whimper & right at the veeerrry end an "oouuuch, that hurts!" (in a tiny, high, slightly panic-edged voice). I have to say, knowing B, I expected great wails right off the top & was pretty impressed w/ this bit of fortitude.
Then our great peds office team tag-teamed her for the nasty bits -- they had me hold her in a big cross-armed hug to keep her from grabbing anything bad, & nailed her one on each side at the same time so fast she didn't know what was coming. Then the last one she did... but what can you do? Even then, the volume of outraged distress was so much less than I'd anticipated I wasn't certain I was even holding MY daughter. Didn't even begin to rival the circus of attention-demanding wails we get when she does something simple.. like scrape a knee. I guess that's the sign (for now anyway) that it's serious. Lots of noise: not hurt. Near silent whimpers: call an ambulance.
It doesn't hurt that they then immediately bribed the bejeezus out of her. Trotting off to the "loot" room, she came back with a toy, a sticker, and not one, but THREE suckers (one for each shot) clutched in her greedy little hands and not a tear in sight.
Then they gave us a script to go to the lab for a CBC & lead test (we live in an "old" house), & said "you don't have to go today". Are you NUTS? I'm not about to let this momentum pass! Not after you've managed to stick FOUR needles in her body, get off with about 2 min of restrained tears & then bribed her to the moon! I'm riding on your success, buddy. So I bribed her with her choice of whatever she wanted (ice cream) to go get this last one done NOW, knowing the sugar high would only bollux the evening, not the life..
How'd that work out? She was utterly disgusted at the meager offerings of the lab. After all, THEY only gave her a little coloring book & a couple of crayons. Pffft. What kind of bribe is THAT?!! lololol
But finally, my great kid then told me why she had three suckers instead of just one: "But mom, I have to SHARE!" And she did. The waitress at lunch was the surprized but appreciative recipient of one pristine watermelon sucker, & gave B one of the best bits of loot of the day: A great big hug with a smile & a thank you. B beamed happy for a couple of hours after that one. I love my kid.
First the TB test, which elicited just a bit of a whimper & right at the veeerrry end an "oouuuch, that hurts!" (in a tiny, high, slightly panic-edged voice). I have to say, knowing B, I expected great wails right off the top & was pretty impressed w/ this bit of fortitude.
Then our great peds office team tag-teamed her for the nasty bits -- they had me hold her in a big cross-armed hug to keep her from grabbing anything bad, & nailed her one on each side at the same time so fast she didn't know what was coming. Then the last one she did... but what can you do? Even then, the volume of outraged distress was so much less than I'd anticipated I wasn't certain I was even holding MY daughter. Didn't even begin to rival the circus of attention-demanding wails we get when she does something simple.. like scrape a knee. I guess that's the sign (for now anyway) that it's serious. Lots of noise: not hurt. Near silent whimpers: call an ambulance.
It doesn't hurt that they then immediately bribed the bejeezus out of her. Trotting off to the "loot" room, she came back with a toy, a sticker, and not one, but THREE suckers (one for each shot) clutched in her greedy little hands and not a tear in sight.
Then they gave us a script to go to the lab for a CBC & lead test (we live in an "old" house), & said "you don't have to go today". Are you NUTS? I'm not about to let this momentum pass! Not after you've managed to stick FOUR needles in her body, get off with about 2 min of restrained tears & then bribed her to the moon! I'm riding on your success, buddy. So I bribed her with her choice of whatever she wanted (ice cream) to go get this last one done NOW, knowing the sugar high would only bollux the evening, not the life..
How'd that work out?
But finally, my great kid then told me why she had three suckers instead of just one: "But mom, I have to SHARE!" And she did. The waitress at lunch was the surprized but appreciative recipient of one pristine watermelon sucker, & gave B one of the best bits of loot of the day: A great big hug with a smile & a thank you. B beamed happy for a couple of hours after that one. I love my kid.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
04/27/05 - How Normal am I?
How Normal Are You?
http://www.blogthings.com/hownormalareyouquiz/
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