My Very Own Jeremiad

This has been rattling around in my brain for a few days.  I know it will offend people, because nothing is ever not offensive to someone.  

I just don’t understand how people are so open minded they are closed off to hearing another point of view.  It’s mind boggling to me that people are blocked, muted, ignored simply because of a different opinion, a different approach.  I understand being opinionated, hello…its me the crazy pink pussy hat wearer….but I still try to listen to things I don’t agree with.  Its how I learn, grow, change, and/or become more confident that I am right! 
 
I lost someone this past week, someone who was the best of us; someone the world will be a worse place off without them in it.  However, I rarely ever agreed with this person’s politics and personal point of views, but I didn’t have to. At the end of the day we were still each other’s little shits and I’m having a hard time coming to terms with how unique that is.  You don’t have to agree to like/love/care about someone a good person is a good person. 
 
It’s so easy to walk away, block, unfriend, mute someone these days.  It’s to the point that the other person/opinion/side is never known, never truly heard, and everyone just chalks it up to that crazy ----(insert description).  I don’t get it and I don’t want to live that way.   Yes, I get defensive and angry and crazy at the other side of my point a view, and yes I walk away from the discussion, but rarely ever the person.  If I close myself off to them, I will never know what’s on the other side and that is stupidity, true ignorance.

This week has been one hell of a week and its only Wednesday!  I have had some pretty heavy family stuff occur, played with rope, and went to my first munch.  For the first time in an online “session” (for lack of a better word) I didn’t crash afterwards.  Maybe it was the hug of the rope, maybe it was the challenge of self tying, maybe it was who was walking (texting no pictures exchanged) me through it all, maybe it was the need to escape, and maybe it was all of the above.  I’m moving forward on my attraction to rope.  I am drawn to the challenge of the ties, how the rope feels against my skin, and the marks it leaves behind.  At this stage I want to be both a rigger and a bunny, so maybe I am more of a switch after all.  The only person I trust enough right now to tie me up is me…so self tying it is maybe forever, maybe just for now.  

As the universe continues to send odd things into my life, I realize I can simply persevere, cry, laugh…..I don’t know what god I’ve upset this time, I know it wasn't Poseidon…that was back in August!    Maybe it’s a combination of Hecate, Loki, Perses, and I am sure there are many others, because this is simply not happening without some divine intervention. 

The last straw today that made me want to stand in the middle of my backyard, naked and yelling to be struck by lightning was the stupid trash.  It should not be difficult to take the trash down the hill to the garage and put inside the rubbish bin.  It’s a basic simple thing, but what is ever basic and simple. 

I live in an old home, that is in need of some TLC, just on the edge of being a money pit.  However, I love the place.  Field stone basements built in 1910 are not known to be mouse proof. No big deal set traps, fill in holes as they are discovered, put out poison, I got this.  Everything is in bins, silverware is in properly organized in tackle boxes in kitchen drawers….

A few weeks ago I heard something hit a trap up in the attic, whatever it was did not stay in said trap, I heard it continue to run with a thump, thump, thump behind it.  By the time I worked up the nerve, found my headlamp, shoes, and gloves to get into the attic whatever it was, was long gone, trap included.  I simply set new traps and moved on with my life. 

With the first snow fall, I’ve been winterizing, cleaning, and setting more traps.  I stumble across a dead flying squirrel in a mouse trap. After what I heard a few weeks ago that makes sense.  Put gloves on, pick it up and throw in trash. It’s a rodent, I don’t care, I just want it out of my house.  Yes, I usually throw the dead rodents in the woods, but it looked gnarly and I didn't want to deal with it. So, into the bag it went. 

My lovely cursed house sits up on a hill, it’s a bit muddy and a bit snowy, but not bad.  As I’m walking down the hill There is something in the trash bag that is moving around and scares the shit out of me.  I throw said bag, fall head over ass down the hill, and am now covered in a yard of dirt/mud/snow.  People have literally stopped in their cars to watch me at this point. 

There is no graceful way of redeeming myself from this.  I just get up walk over to the bag, which has partially split open.  Out comes a very pissed off flying squirrel with a trap attached to its leg…which I proceed to jump/scream/and fall again into the mud. I am actually shaking from this and need to walk around the yard, looking like a 5'1 monster from the black lagoon, talking out loud to myself to calm down.  I eventually gather my wits and pick up the trash and throw it out. 

If anyone sees a squirrel with a trap on its leg, I am to blame.  I did not proceed to try to help said squirrel, it is on its own.  It deserves whatever it gets.  I can only imagine what those driving by are saying now!  With everything else going on yet another item has been added to the to do list…check for rodent pulses!

Because this has come up in a variety of different places I thought I would share how I put on a corset by myself.  There are a million ways to do this, this is just how I do it.  Find what works for you.  It's not easy, it takes practice, I haven't worn one in years and it was a bit disheartening to see how much my body has changed, and yet I felt a bit more like me.....things to ponder over.  

Disclamer: I dislocated my shoulder last weekend so I'm not able to quite get things the way I'd prefer them to be.

1. 

The first thing I do is make it super loose.  I add safety pins to the back laces so they don't pop through the eyelets.  I use safety pins because they are easy for me to get on an off, but you can use anything. 

2.

Do up the front.  Today, I went top to bottom, it just depends on how I'm feeling and/or how the corset fits me. At this stage it's supper loose.  Things will fall out and can be quite entertaining. 

3.

Tighten up the laces in the back.  Do this by pulling out to the side (hard to take a picture of this)

4. 

Adjust, tighten some more, finally tie it off, and take off safetypins.

This simply takes time, patience, and honestly its easier with someone else to help.  Do line up the boning better than I did today, make sure the center is actually centered it can hurt otherwise.  

Hope this helps.

Enjoy

As the vaults of my mind close in on me, it’s getting harder and harder to feel connected to anything beyond.  If only it was one or two things for me to focus on, to mitigate change.  The constant barrage of failures that keep pummeling me is breaking down whatever armor I have left.  Yes, I am coming off a crap summer, and yes, its been a crazy few weeks at work, and yes, I’m injured…I am aware of the excuses and/or reasons but I’m tired I’ve had enough. 
 
The urge to cry is non-stop today, which is stupid, because 1. I don’t cry and 2. Nothing has occurred that is big enough to cry over.   Sure, I’m disappointed; disappointed in myself, disappointed in others.  The frustration of talking to brick walls, that appear as humans, makes me even angrier, primarily at myself for the continued effort.  The insanity cycle needs to end, of me putting myself in the situations that I either can’t handle (during and/or after) and allowing my voice to be lost to the wind. 
 
For now, I’m going to take the advice I give to others.  I will attempt to be kind to myself. Snuggle into my cozy place, read a book, watch crap tv (no news, nothing heavy, just light and fluffy) and just try to exist in a safe warm space and just be…be me.  Whomever that is today. 

Pardon my rant, because this is what this is going to be. I’ve been fuming for a few hours now and since I can’t work out (stupid dislocated shoulder) all I have is the power of the pen....well keyboard.
 
I am not perfect, I screw up regularly and I do try to own my own crap and be straight forward/honest, but I am technically human. However, I was raised by an avid Emily Post nut so I do have manners (most of the time) and don’t normally tell perfect strangers to pound sand.  With that said…do not accuse me of playing you…I said that I wasn’t interested, but was still willing to talk, because I will rarely turn down the opportunity to hear someone else’s point of view on things.  That’s how we learn, evolve, opposable thumbs can only get one so far.
 
No I am not your normal anything.  I’m an odd duck in a perfectly square world surrounded by round pegs.  To quote Beck “In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey..”  I embrace my strangeness, weirdness, and I am still trying to figure it all out.  Read my profile, I think it’s pretty straight forward that I am not a 24/7 submissive, nothing wrong with that but it’s not me and its not who I want to be at this time.  I also think its pretty obvious that I can hold my own…”I’ve got highways for stretch marks, see where I’ve grown….” And the other Ani Difranco piece that jumped into my mind is “when I'm approached in a dark alley, I don't lift my skirt…”
 
I don’t have to be nice to you simply because you call yourself a “Dom” and you view me as a sub.  Screw that…I don’t need it nor want it.  As the hood rat comes out in me,  Bring it on! and I will take you down sideways from Sunday!  Sorry and Yes, I am done and maybe I am just not a traditional sub (whatever that is.) or a sub at all.  I got this...let me figure this out, with whomever I want to figure it out with!  I think I need to listen to some SnP from 1993 because now I have this in my head ….
 
'What's the matter with your life?
Why you gotta mess with mine?
Don't keep sweatin' what I do
'Cause I'm gonna be just fine check it out......

.....Cause I refuse to be played like a penny cent trick deck of cards
No, I ain't hard like the bitches on a boulevard
My face ain't scarred, and I don't dance in bars....."

I wish there as a giant truck with a big neon sign stating what it is I am...should do....It's as if every aspect of my life is spiraling out of control; imploding while exploding.   Avenue Q is my life on rewind, my own strange Groundhogs Day, and all that I’ve learned so far is that the intranet is for porn.  Maybe if Bill Murray made an appearance I could have some laughs. 
  The past few weeks, I've just been completely absorbed with work, 72 hours a week type of work.  Part of me has relished just focusing on one thing, and putting everything else on the back burner.  At the same time I feel bad that I’ve neglected everyone and everything else that hasn’t been work. 
         Not sure what it means that I’ve like not having to explain myself or check in or ask permission, that I could just go full steam ahead on my own terms, make my own full of mistake decisions.  Even though I’ve gone full stubborn craziness in a quasi forward direction, I’ve also missed having someone there. 
         Yes, I am a mess and need to figure out the balance of I want/need.  Which leads me back to the beginning of the circle of what/who am I?  Avenue Q starts all over from the prelude, again.

Yes, I'm quoting Ani DiFranco...deal with it.  I'm not a pretty girl and I don't mean that as an insult or self put down.  It's a fact; I happily embrace it.  There are no words imagining what life would be like if I were a pretty girl; things are hard enough without that.  I am constantly assessed based on my gender, height (lack there of), looks,  and am often considered a non-threat but unapproachable.

Self control, inner strength, the stubbornness to buckle down, get things done, being in control is what I do, its who I am. There is rarely a "soft" side to me that others get to see.  I am hard, I am harsh, I wear my armor daily.  I am not a damsel in distress, or a kitten stuck up in a tree somewhere.  Even if I were don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down whether or not someone shows up?  Yep..more Ani, but it fits.   

I rage at others for limiting my choices, making decisions that affect me and others.  Decisions being made by people that are not my peers, not my social and/or economic class, not even my gender, but are determining what I am and am not allowed to do.  Straight up utter BS!  My boxing gloves are always near, ready to be put on, taped hands or not, I will come up swinging every time.  

How can an enraged, pink pussy hat wearing, female take off the boxing gloves and be even remotely submissive?  The big difference is that it's my choice.  At any given time I can choose not to, I can stop it!  I can say "Red", "Unicorn", "Purple Donkey Dicks"...whatever the word is and it ends.  Everytime I waiver and think "How can I be okay with...?", I remind myself its a choice; a very powerful choice.