Silly Insecurities

One of my lovers just found another lover for himself. Which is great. I've met her before and she's nice, sexy, intelligent, and it could be a very good relationship.

So why is it that when he told me this morning, while I *know* it changes nothing about how he thinks/feels about me, I had to ask him if he still wanted me.

Because part of my brain started whispering, "Oh she's prettier than you and she's new and he's known you for years, and now he's not going to have any time for you..." and all those little thoughts that drive me crazy.

At least I could just ask to get his answer (which was basically, "of course I still want you") instead of just trying to suppress the little whispers and having them boil underneath the surface.

In the asking, and getting the answer, I can shut up the fears.

Then I start feeling all silly and foolish for having the fears in the first place.

We've known each other for over 10 years. Our intimate and sexual relationship had ended well once, he went away, got married... ended up in a marriage that opened and our friendship re-developed into a new and sexual relationship again a couple of years ago.

Knowing this, then why in the world did I get that shot of fear when he told me that he had another lover, a feeling that didn't go away until I had to ask him if he still wanted me?

How to survive a meeting

Some people noticed that I was away for a few days. I belong to an organization called the Odd Fellows (actually, I'm a member of the Rebekahs which is part of the Odd Fellows, but anyway...) and it's in some ways like the Masons and the Elks. Basically we do a lot of charity work and community service, with some social activities. My mother is a Rebekah, and I've been one since I was 18.

I'm currently Noble Grand (aka president) of my Lodge and was chosen to represent the Lodge at our state Assembly meeting. So from Sunday to Wednesday, I was in meetings, presentations, and sitting through a lot of speeches.

The organization is dominated by older people. I'm in my early 30s, and except for a handful of people who are alumni of the youth divisions of the group, I think was the youngest person in the 130+ person group.

So, while taking notes and stuff, I had my palm pilot out. I used that technology to sustain me through the boredom (mainly on Monday when most of the gift and award presentations were). Not only do I have games on there, I have books. And I kept reading over a couple of different scenes from a 2 books.

The sex scenes, where the play ranges from just elements to full blown BDSM.

The books are Kildar and Choosers of the Slain by John Ringo.

Half Nekkid Thursday: Tattoo Two

Here is my other ankle (the left one), as promised a couple of weeks ago.


This one is fairly old too... I only got it a year or two after the first one.

Finding the Other End of the Leash

I've heard some people who scoff at the idea of a switch. I've heard from some people that switches are nothing but really bratty and/or confused subs who just need the right Dom to put them in their place. Then again, the ones who say this also tend to be the ones who think that if you're a sub you have to submit to all Doms all the time.

Which gets a big fat "Hell No" not only from switches but most subs and not a small number of real Doms. [Reminds me of a shirt that says "Yes, But Not With You!"]

While Dominance and submission are opposites, there's a lot of mixing in-between.

To read the rest, click on Whole Post


I see the range of D/s as a bell curve- just like with other aspects of sexuality. There are some people who are so Dominant/submissive/heterosexual/homosexual/etc that even the thought of playing on the other side (or same side if heterosexuality is the factor) is a severe turn off.

On the other hand, playing with the other side (or the same side if homosexuality is the factor) is another thing entirely and to be encouraged. [*grin*]

But most people tend to fall somewhere in between- granted, they're more on one side then the other- and sometimes it's not so much expressed as a Dom having a "sub moment" but having a "not feeling like they actively want to Dominate" mood. Or a sub who's just not able to go under that day and uses what tools s/he has to express that to their Dom.

Then there are the decided switches. The ones who love to be both under and wielding the lash, and have been able to recognize it and follow that path.

Being a switch works differently for each one of us. I know switches who only submit to a select sub-set of lovers and who dominate all of the rest (like one friend who will submit to men, but has to dominate other women). I know of other switches who submit to many, but in a few rare cases can't help but take the leash and lead.

And there are some who are so flexible that they can go from one mode to another like a see-saw.

For me, it's a thing of moods. Sometimes, I'm in the mood to submit, go under, give over, and that's that. At other times, I want the other person under my control. The person I'm with at the time does have an influence, but it's not the only factor.

Then there are the wired times that I'm in both, as if I'm at a crossroads. Sometimes it happens when I'm in one mood and moving to the other, and sometimes it happens when I'm talking with someone online and the scenario we have going involves me submitting to the person that I'm talking with while dominating a 3rd person that only exists in our collective imaginations.

It's in these moments that the emotional edge is the most confusing, because I'm actively working with both dynamics and having to balance how I'm submitting and dominating.

At this time in my life, I seem to fall more into that second category of switch, the one who submits to many and controls only a few, but that's partially because the relationships I got into before realizing I am a switch, and the relationships are still there. Of my 3 regular lovers; one is very much a Dom (and so is his wife), one expresses Dom tendencies when that edge comes out to play, and my fiance is a switch.

I didn't even know I was a switch until I met my fiance, and he and I started exploring each other and BDSM.

I didn't know because I thought I was a sub, and I had no interest in the other end of the leash. In retrospect, that was more a part of the dynamic I had (and still have) with the lover who made me comfortable enough to ask and then introduced my body to BDSM (and all hail books for my earlier education to make me think and wonder what would that be like, and give me the courage to ask him first to bite me, then to ask for the other things as well).

Encounter a new lover, with a very different dynamic, and then I had the urge to hold the leash instead.

And the flogger, and the knife.

It was more than a shock to realize that I *wanted* to spank my now-fiance. It turned my mind on end to realize that not only could I do unto others what has been done to me, but that I wanted to.

For a while, it made me worried that I'd never be able to go under, into sub space, again if I gave in and rode the Dom impulse in me. And that because I'd only subbed before that I'd be a bad Dom; for lack of practice and that the fact that I want to sub at times as well would somehow taint me as a Dom.

Well, those fears worked themselves out. I've been able to go under just as well as before and I've not had any complaints from my fiance that didn't get fixed as we both learn to communicate with each other more effectively

I do wonder what other subs would think of me as a Dom, because so far the only one who I've dominated has been my fiance.

I do have urges to dominate other people, often women. Nice and slightly naughty women with curves and a twinkle in their eye would gasp and wiggle and be ever so delightful to drive crazy with sensation and take them into that beautiful zone where they are mine.

Half Nekkid Thursday: Adornment 1

Here's a shot of not only a necklace, but the top of my cleavage. This is a necklace that I almost always have on. It rests in my cleavage if I have a "oh my god I have boobs" bra on, but just above it if I don't have one of those bras on.

It was given to me by my fiance, and he purchased it when he was in Germany on tour with a musical group.

About the only time I take it off is when it actively gets in the way of sex.

What is something that you always have on you?

Fiction: Please

[inspired by Shon Richard's "Don't" ]

Please cum, Sir.

I'm holding on because you told me too, not letting my body go over the edge into bliss. My body shudders a little, so close to the edge, but my breathing is as slow and steady as I dare. Biting my lip as I moan. Running multiplication tables in the back of my head. Anything to stop from cumming before you do.

I know the price of disobedience.

My ass is already on fire from your hand and the flogger. My nipples are sore and inflamed from the clamps. My wrists and ankles are chaffed from the ropes that tied them down and held them apart. My skin itches from the dried tears and paints. My throat is sore from the crying and the begging and the cock you fucked it with.

I don't want to start over again. I want to finish it.

My world focus narrows to you. You push your cock into me, slow and steady and hard. Your hands pinch and your mouth bites. You don't look at me, or take my begging into account and spare me from the relentless way you fuck yourself in my body. I'm there for your pleasure, a convenient alternative to your hand and a squirt of lube. I revel in the use, the abuse, the edge of giving myself to you like this.

Each thrust and touch brings my closer and closer to that pleasure you have forbidden me, and that I forbid myself for your sake. You told me "No" and I'm holding onto that like a shield against the rush in my blood. Using it to hang onto the shreds of control that I have to use, don't want to use, except you told me to wait for your rush of orgasm first.

Please cum, Sir.

how does it work?

I'm trying to set up my template, so that like Shon I can do the "Whole Post" thing... and it isn't working... :(

Edit: Shon- it works!!! Yay!!! Thank you so much!!!

Fiction: Spread for Two

I become aware of my surroundings a little bit at a time.

The first thing I feel is the slight ache in my thigh muscles. My legs are at a weird angle; they are stretched out and open wide. They aren't painfully spread, but just a little beyond what is comfortable. As I try to shift my legs into a more relaxed position, I feel the leather cuffs around my ankles shift and strain a little as they hold my legs in place.

Another tug from my arms reveals their own situation; they too cuffed, but to garters of leather around my upper thighs. They are held down to my sides by this system, leaving my chest and neck exposed.

The feel of heavy silk weighs against my eyelids as the blindfold blocks my vision.

To read the rest, click on Whole Post


Other than the leather cuffs and silk blindfold, I am naked. The sheet beneath me and the cushion under it are very soft and fine. The cushion is supportive but not stiff and uncomfortable. The room is warm, and occasional puffs of wind caress my warm clean skin as the fan I can hear in the corner turns and catches me in its breeze. The air is warm but dry. Other than the softly humming fan, I can't hear anything else. There's a slight scent in the air, not quite musk, not floral. It's reminiscent of a perfume oil I love to wear, but not quite the same.

I drift off into a half sleep for a few moments. Then a weight shifts the cushion I'm on. There's someone settling down next to my chest. I open my mouth to speak and I feel a slightly skin rough finger press against my lips in the universal sign for "hush now." I promptly close my mouth on the questions just waiting to bubble out.

The finger then traces down from my lips and along my throat. The finger shifts and its a smooth short nail trailing along my throat where the artery lies beneath the skin. I shudder a little.

Another shift on the cushion and a weight settles between my legs. I feel the brush of soft silky hair as the person who is in full view of my sex takes advantage of how my legs are so wide spread. I feel a tongue open the lower lips that were barely together. The moisture clings for a second, and then the tongue laps at my sex again, exposing my clit to his or her view.

The finger that was at my throat continues its downward path, racing diagonally across my chest to circle around my breast. The slight calluses on the finger catch on the puckering of the areola as my nipple hardens into a small pink hill. Another finger, another hand, joins in teasing the other nipple into hardness.

Warmth spreads across my body as my skin flushes to the sensations. I feel my sex begin to turn liquid just with the couple of exploratory licks. My hips, even with the awkward position of my legs, try to rock a little, hoping to put that tongue into contact with my sex again. The movement is awarded, and the tongue begins to play over my clit in a maddeningly random pattern. My hips rock only a little, and each motion strains my thighs even more.

The hands at my breasts are strong and masculine. They shift from lightly teasing my nipples to holding my breasts firmly. A warm mouth surrounds a nipple, sucking it into the play of teeth and tongue. My thought that it is a man is confirmed by the slight scrape of hair by his short beard and mustache. My breasts begin to swell and ache, relieved only by the mouth licking and nibbling at my nipples and the hands gently and firmly squeezing them.

The tongue between my legs begins to lap at my sex in a rhythm my hips can follow. I feel a finger slid between the moist folds and enter me. It begins to thrust in and out in a counterpoint with my hips and the tongue on my clit. The moan I was holding in the back of my throat tears out of my mouth. It is rewarded by the mouth on my breasts nipping more harshly, turning into small bites.

"M-more." The voice is one I barely recognize as my own. It is breathy and hoarse.

Another finger joins the first finger in my cunt and the mouth on my nipple leave a moist trail as it goes up my neck. Both hands begin pinching at my nipples.

I begin to lose control over my voice. Little high-pitched gasps are interrupted by moans, which are stopped by little cries. A barely intelligible "more" adds another finger to my cunt, deliciously stretching me. I feel the orgasm gathering and coiling inside me.

Then the hand in my cunt begins to jab quickly and hard to gasps of "oh yes."

Then, just as I begin to fall over the edge of my orgasm, at the first tremor, a number of things happen at once. From the outside, it must look like a series of choreographed motions. The mouth sliding over my throat clamps down, biting and sucking like a vampire drinking from the depths of blood and hunger. The hands at my breasts pinch and twist my nipples into the point of pain. The mouth on my sex seems to try and suck and swallow my whole cunt down while the fingers in me slam hard one time and goes still, pressing solid into me.

The first convulsion of my orgasm lifts my hips off the bed, as far as they can with my legs retrained. A strangled "Goddess" escapes my mouth, finished by a small scream. My cunt clamps down on the hand in me.

It's ages, eons, that I spend suspended like that. Hips convulsing, straining my legs bound in leather. Hands straining against the wrist cuffs, clutching at the sheet beneath me. Back arched and neck stretched. Breasts quivering with the sharp pain radiating from my nipples. Behind the lids of my blindfolded eyes, explosions of dark colors splash across the dark screen of my vision.

The sensations crash, and my hips hit the bed. The mouth on my sex releases its suction as the fingers in my cunt slowly slip out of me. My hands unclench, slightly stiff from holding onto the sheets so tightly. I moan softly as the teeth at my neck release and the mouth moves away. My nipples ache a little when the pinching pressure is released. I drag in a breath, and my throat is a little sore from the moans and gasps I was making.

Hands bush along my body gently. The weights on the cushion shift, and it seems like the two people trade positions. The slightly roughened hands of the person who was at my breasts and throat now trail up and down the inside of my thighs, watching the muscles twitch from the strain of the position they are held in, and with the remnants of orgasms still sliding along my body.

Another hand begins to trail across my breasts. It belongs to the other person. The skin is softer, and the nails longer. I think it's a woman, but I can't be sure.

The two people wait for my body to continue its drift down out of the orgasm. I settle down into a contented sigh, and I feel the hands on my thighs change their caress. Even lighter, barely touching the skin, the hands trace up and down my whole leg, skirting around to the sides of my knees. The feeling is almost ticklish, but my body is too relaxed to try to get away.

The hand drifting over my breasts changed its angle, and the fingernails slid against my skin. They are smooth and sharp, leaving little trails of red on my skin. I can't see them, but I can feel the heat trails the marks leave. My skin is very pale, so I know that for a little while there will be red marks from all the things that have been done to me.

The hands continue like this, slightly scoring my flesh, slightly tickling me. I lose track of time again.

Then the roughened male hands slide higher up on the inside of my thighs. They easily slide into the lips of my sex, still moist from my last orgasm. It doesn't take long for the inquisitive fingers to bring about more moisture and heat from my cunt as they play along the lips, my clit, and the hole of my pussy. Then a finger takes juices from my pussy and spreads it down. Soon the finger is pushing at the entrance to my anus. As the tip of the finger stretches me, the feeling of a tongue on my clit relaxes my body against the intrusion. It seems like no time at all, and I'm pushing against the finger in my ass, riding it as the owner's mouth and tongue works at my clit.

The hand at my chest is joined by its mate and the attention of the fingers is centered on my nipples. A soft feminine mouth comes down and begins to lick, suck, and bite.

I shudder and gasp. Soon I'm moaning and thrashing as much as my bonds allow. This time, as my orgasm starts to crash over me, the mouth on my breasts leaves and I feel a harsh stinging slap on my right breast. I cry out, and my body clenches and trembles. The hand delivers another slap, this time to my left breast.

I lose count of the slaps.

The sensation of my orgasm just rolls on, spurred by each slap.

After the slaps stop and as I start to come down from cumming so hard, the finger in my ass withdraws and the mouth on my clit lifts up. It is replaced by the hand of the person who was slapping my breasts, who stokes at my clit enough to keep the orgasm from fading. I hear something open, like a plastic box. There is a distinctive smell of a cleaning cloth, like a Wet Wipe. The man's hands return to my hips, cool from the evaporating chemicals from the cleanser on the towelette.

My hips still thrust with each low wave of orgasm that the fingers on my clit feed. Suddenly I feel a warm and latex covered intrusion as the man between my legs begins to probe at my sex with his cock. He shifts his angle a fraction, and his cock slides home. I gasp and cry out as the hard flesh slides inside me. The stiff prick stretches me, despite the orgams rippling through me. He begins to thrust, and my orgasm continues even when the hand leaves my clit and returns up to my breasts.

The orgasm maintains steady waves of ecstasy that make it hard for my body to maintain any rhythm. Each wave begins to crash larger and more filled with each thrust of his body, and soon my body is locked in a giant circuit of orgasm. I start crying as the pleasure becomes too much. Tears stream down my face and into my hair, leaving cooling trails of salty moisture.

Suddenly, a mouth is on my throat again, biting and sucking. My body stiffens, back and hips thrust out as much as possible. The man is slamming his cock into me, and one of his roughened hands slides up my torso and cruelly pinches my nipple.

A scream builds up in the back of my throat. I barely let it out when the darkness behind the blindfold explodes into a brilliant white light and everything goes blacker than pitch.

The next thing I know, I feel a cold cloth press against my forehead and a warm and deep voice asking, "Are you alright?" I'm cradled in someone's arms. I automatically try to sit up, but my body is too limp and uncoordinated to do it. My legs and hands are free. There is a fire throbbing in my thighs from being spread and stretched so wide and open. I feel a ring of pain, surely developing bruises, around my wrists and ankles from pulling at the cuffs that bound them.

I try to say something, but my throat is too raw. I open my eyes slightly, and try to nod. Hoarsely, I manage to say, "Goddess, I'm incredible."

I hear a couple of chuckles, one low pitched and one higher, as I sag even more into the person holding me, my body too liquid to do anything else.

Half Nekkid Thursday- There be a Buxom Wench

Ahoy Maties....

Now, I love to wear clothes when appropriate. I'm also usually naked within 3 minutes of getting home unless we have company. I also have another refuge where the people living there are of the same mindframe (clothes are for other people) and I'm completely comfortable being naked with them.

I also love clothes and costumes. I belong to the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism). Through there, I and some of my friends have accumulated a number of bodices.

Here I am at my friends' house, in a slightly over-large bodice for my body, because this lass forgot her own at home.

And yes, I forgot the chemise. And the skirt.

Secret Geek Sunday: Belay that post

Arrr... Ahoy maties.

I intended to post yesterday, but I was helping my best mates paint their new home, and wasn't near a computer.

Following the fine example of Capitan Shon I'm joining in on Pirate Week.

When Shon mentioned the idea of a pirate week, I was excited. I play a pirate game on an almost daily basis.

It's called Puzzle Pirates, and in the game you're a pirate (go figure) and you play puzzles to accomplish the day to day tasks of being a pirate.

When you're on a ship (which you can own for enough poe- pieces of eight) you play a puzzle to navigate, sail, fix holes in the ship, bildge out the water, load the cannons, and engaging other ships.

The world setting is an ocean, with little islands. There's trade routes and on the islands there's shops. You need things to run the ships, including RUM. If you run out of rum, the pirates on your ship can't fight as well if you're boarded (or are doing the boarding!). Some of the shops have puzzles for the work (like the distilling shop). There's also an inn on each island, where one can play games and gamble away the money you earn on ship and in shop.

Here's a set of pictures of my main pirate, Collwen. You can buy all sorts of clothing, the last set is based on what my crew and flag are calling the "hoochie momma" outfit.

Yes, you can hook up with a permentant crew, which is often part of a flag (group of crews), and go jobbing with other crews for the interaction and the poe.

http://www.puzzlepirates.com

For the sexual side, I've heard that there is a bit of cyber-sex going on out there (there is a chat interface and you can have houses and even weddings). I've just not found the right people for it.

Half Nekkid Thursday: Tattoo #1

Welcome to the inside of my right ankle. This was the first tattoo that I ever got.

I have a second tattoo, on the inside of the other ankle, but that picture will be for another week. I have plans for a third when I get down to my goal weight range, but that will be a while in the making. I think I'm going to ask my friend who has it drawn out to use sharpie or a henna pen to map it out some weekend.

The quality is only excused by the cell phone that was used to take the picture.

It is also an old tattoo- over 5 years old. I know I was in my second college when I got it done, but it was before my dad passed away in 1999.

There used to be more space between the rays and around the crescent moon. For those who also have older tattoos, is there a way to go in and get it re-defined? Would going arount the moon in a pale color, add the space back in over the black?

Fiction: Dessert

Dinner was simple. The restaurant was a simple pub with good food and a broken pizza oven. Which was a pity because the pizza was good there. So the plan changed a little, but the pub was the same.

The actual act of eating was quickly accomplished. I actually only ate half of my dinner because I had eaten a snack earlier in the night. You ate all of yours; drinking soda while I drank water.

The waitress asked us if we wanted any dessert, but we both said no. While she was gone and getting the check, I made a comment about dessert waiting for us at home.

To read the rest, click on Whole Post


We walked across the street and back to the house. You went in before me and as I closed the door your eyes, then your hand, pinned me to the door. Your hands released me and went to my belt. The belt was over my shirt and you took it it off quickly and smoothly. Next you moved your hands down the front of my shirt and parted the buttons as they moved. I couldn't stop looking at your hands as they moved to the collar of my shirt and pulled it down with my jacket to pin my arms to my sides. I finally dropped the bag of leftovers that I had in my hand; I had been clutching at it for my life.

"Time for dessert," your voice almost growled out the words as you lent in and kissed me.

Your hands moved again, and my lace undershirt was pushed up over my breasts. Your mouth covered my right nipple and when I started to sag against the door at the sensation your right hand came up and circled my throat. I'm not sure I knew just how large your hands were until one was around my throat.

My breath hitched, not from the pressure of your hand, but from the presence of it. Your mouth left my breast for a moment and I looked into your eyes as you pressed your body into mine, hand still in place. You gently released your hand and kissed me on the mouth. I lent into the kiss, and your hands slide down my arms to remove the shirt and jacket, then moved up again to take off the undershirt. The kiss broke to pull the scrap of lace over my head. The kiss started again, with more force behind it on both our parts, as your hands slid down my body to push off my skirt and panties to pool around my feet.

Your left hand slid up my thigh and around to the front to my cunt. Your fingers parted my labia and found their target. I sagged against the sensation and parted my legs more. Your right hand went back to my throat, sliding me back up the door and holding me there as the fingers on my clit circled and pressed.

The first orgasm started within moments. As I cried out your body pressed into mine, pressing into the shudders and wringing even more cries and gasps. Your hand released my throat and I knew to stay standing, although my body just wanted to collapse shuddering.

You didn't let me stop at one orgasm. I'm not certain how many I had while pushed against the door. Your fingers at my clit moved to more fully fill my cunt and thrust into me. It had to be hard for your hand to be in that position, but at least one orgasm had to have squeezed your fingers as they slid in and out. Your free hand smacked at my breasts, a sensation I had not had in a while which helped at least one more orgasm to be pulled from my body.

Finally, you took pity on my body and my raw voice, catching me into your arms to hold me up and enfold me into a hug. My body shook not only from the aftershock of orgasms, but at the sensation of your hand at my throat and the sheer force of you taking over and controlling me.

Screwed up schedule already

I'm *still* working on my Secret Geek Sunday post from the 2nd, but at this point, I think I'm going to save it for another week.

I even forgot to post fiction/poetry yesterday, but I will fix that today.

Poly and the issue of permission

I'll have my real Secret Geek Sunday post up later, but since this is something that just happened, I'll go into it now.

Ok, so I'm poly. I know that not everyone is. I also know that within poly relationships, there's all sorts of levels of agreement and you have to abide by those rules.

Pretty much, my specific rules with my fiance are such- not to be stupid. Use protection and good judgement in partners. There's an additional rule of having to use condoms for going down on a guy (one that I don't particularly like, but it makes my fiance more comfortable and that's something I'll agree to- it's better than not being able to go down on a guy at all).

Those are the rules set in stone, but I additionally will do things like make sure that he's comfortable with my choices and get his imput.

But part of the general rules for all people with poly tendancies and relationships I think is that you communicate with your primary partner and all potential partners in a clear and honest manner.

To read the rest, click on Whole Post


I don't think I'd get in any argurments over that one, right?

So, I tell my potential partners and hookups things like the condom for fellatio requirement very early on. Granted that sometimes happen after some play has started already started, but I let them know before they're expecting my lips around their cock.

Now, I would expect the same thing of potential lovers and hookups... right?

Well, not always.

i was getting comfortable with someone. He has great hands and a neck rub earlier lead to some promising things, like my nipples getting pinched just that little bit. My cold wasn't interferring and his hands (and the nip or two with his mouth and the tweaks on my nipples) just felt really good.

I didn't ask if he was in a relationship that was ok with this model- mainly because he just moved here from another state and I hadn't heard a word about a girlfriend/fiance/wife. He is staying with friends. My own fiance is at an event over an hour away and hadn't left yet.

So, we fool around a little bit. He has Dom tendencies and figured out a couple of my buttons.

Did I mention he has great hands?

So I get to the point where I need to stop for a couple of minutes when one of my friends comes through, seeing my flushed face and knowing the look I have when I've been worn a little bit out with orgasms, and mentions the fact that the guy on the couch with me doesn't have permission to play.

At all.

Know how fast it takes from going pleasantly worn out from being with a sex partner that has some clues to being *really* pissed off?

I do now.

He might be a good guy overall, but gods, I really don't like what he's done.

Possible Brief Hiatus

It depends on how things go. I have an elderly aunt who was moved into a nursing home yesterday for hospice/comfort care. Her heart is failing and I'm the medical proxy for her.

I finally picked up a journal/notebook to write in, so I'm going to write something... if nothing else to distract me from the impending death. It's funny how death makes you think of life and of sex.

Thinking about it... I've got a cold and that isn't condusive to doing anything about it.