A Song for You

The song behind this post title, is a great song, especially if you listen to the lyrics.  If you can get through it without crying about someone in your past, you aren't listening close enough.

I just discovered the Donny Hathaway version which I really like, but I have to admit that it's not the version I grew up with.  I was a boy in the 70's and my mom had the Carpenters on a 24/7 loop for a while.  I grew up with Karen breaking my heart on a regular basis.  As cheesy as it is, it is my childhood, and I loved it, and I loved her.  And I loved that she was a drummer....

~~~~~~~

Answer the following questions using only song titles. Make sure you link to the song or the song’s lyrics so that we can listen to or read the song.

1. What is your present state of mind?

2. How do you feel about your spouse, significant other, or someone you lust for?

On bad days, it's "The Words don't fit the picture anymore, a perfect ode to a dying marriage (I couldn't find a video for it.)  And since I was in my Willie section of iTunes, Waylon wasn't far away, so let's go with this one.

3. Describe your job.

4. What are you hungry for?

5. What’s your favorite color?

Does the name of the group count?

6. What gets you excited?

She is at my gym, but a teacher nonetheless

7. Who do you think you are?

I'm not sure these days.....

Bonus: Describe your life. Feel free to elaborate on your song choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will if you will

Drenched & Delicious had a wonderful idea.  We should all join in.

What you do during that hour with the lights off,

is up to you....

http://www.earthhour.org/



And update, nothing of interest happened here.
I turned off the lights, leaned my head back
and woke up at an hour later.\

So, thank you.

Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

Love and Lust commented on a study that shows the increasing use of "penis" and "vagina" in television dialogue.  She takes issue with their assumed methodology and over-reaction to dirty words, but she brings up a valid, and important question, about language on TV.  I'm not questioning her position, but my answer to her post got longer and longer so I thought it might make a good post of my own.  So I'll rant here for a while.  Go read her post and then come on back if you want....  It's worth reading, her post, not mine.

I'll chime in as a parent.... (OK, this may be a condescending opening I'm stating my authority as a parent, trying to trump her assumptions as

Language in general is becoming worse and worse on TV.  Three shows this year (2 already cancelled) had implied profanity in the name of the show.

*&%@ my dad days
GCB - Good Christian Bitches (not belles)
and now,
Don't Trust the B* in Apt 23.

Ass, bitch, douche, slut, are all now commonplace, and now penis, breasts, vagina, hooters, and the scatological references are increasingly used.

This trend makes me sad for several reasons.

1 - It doesn't make the dialogue any better.  It's lazy writing and proves a total loss of creativity.  When the "F-bomb" is dropped, it means that the writers have officially run out of ideas.  When was the last time you heard "Fuck" in a way that actually improved the meaning of the sentence, not just as an intensifier.  Do we really need to add the F-word to the Interjection song?



2 - It makes good stories un-watchable as a family.  I do not want my kids using this kind of language, so I don't use it around them, and so I won't have them watch shows that use them.  This limits my choices to Disney and Power Rangers and various ads for churches.

OK, before you yell out "Hypocrite!  I've read your blog, you cuss all the time."  I still believe that here are adult situations that are appropriate for adults and not for kids.  Most of us have the Adult Content screen on our blogs for good reason.  We deal with sex, but not just sex, but adult themes that are not appropriate for kids.  I'm OK with that.  When my kids are old enough to make sense of adult themes they will be able to handle it, but, before they get there, I will (hopefully) have taught them how to express themselves intelligently, analyze good and bad, right and wrong, and act accordingly (meaning that they will not turn out like me at all)

3 - It reflects a loss of compassion.  The language of today is harsh, angry, aggressive, crude, lacking in respect or grace or humor.  Jokes are mean spirited, situations are more humiliating, and the premise of many of the shows all focus on casual sex, lack of caring for others, and poor view of women beyond their sexuality.

Again, I speak to the idea that language matters.  It shapes the way we think, and I honestly don't understand the feminist defense of this kind of language.  If I learn to equate WOMAN with BITCH through the words I use and the images that are associated with them, then all women are bitches.

If "YO! Bitch, get me a beer." is acceptable then the actions and assumptions behind that phrase are also acceptable.  Instead of "Honey, can I get you a drink while I'm up" it turns in to a command, an expression of dominance, or, to use the parlance of those who defend it, it becomes an expression of assumed male privilege.   

I use the words SLUT and WHORE very carefully.  It can be an honorific, a term of endearment, or a horribly angry, cutting word, and to the woman who hears them.  I know that there is a movement to empower "SLUT" to be a word claimed for women, but that's still in the wishful thinking stage.  It's like the Gay Community thinking that the emotion behind "Queer" has changed because they want it to change.  Words change meaning very slowly, putting them out in popular culture just gives the misogynists an excuse to use them.  Do you really think that racists make a distinction between Nigger and Nigga?  Don't kid yourself.  

I do NOT want all shows to be after school specials, I get that, but the language is depressing, it's offensive, it's harsh, and exclusionary to those who are trying to raise kids with a higher sense of self.

When TV had it's "Golden Age" all of the actors where white, the beds were twins, pajamas were long sleeved and floor length, and Ozzie never got to tie Harriet to the bed and ream her ass with a 9" dildo.  I get that too.  I had to stop my kids from watching "The Simpsons" as the language on that show got worse and worse.  My kids didn't want to finish "Some Kind of Wonderful" because of the bad language, and they chose their friends based on how they behave, how they talk, and what they believe in.  These are all decisions I've helped them make on their own.  

When your child is 6, do you want them coming home and greeting you with, "That fucking bitch teacher of mine just chaps my ass!"?    You may not expose your kids to TV but ALL of your child's friends will be exposed to it, and they will gladly pass it on to your kids.

And good luck not using TV as a babysitter when you haven't showered for 3 days, James is at work, and you have guests coming over in 45 minutes.  TV is the world's most reliable baby-sitter.  I have three kids and I actually laughed out loud when I read that paragraph.  Seriously, it cracked me up.  Good luck on that one.  When I had my 2nd kid (well, the wife did all the work), I asked my mom if she ever used the TV as a babysitter.  She laughed too (maybe it's genetic) and said that she used to plop my brother and sister in front of the TV with the sound turned off so she could teach piano lessons in peace.  She said they didn't watch for very long and would drift off to other toys, but it kept them quiet.  


There are really few things more entertaining than listening to "soon to be parents" lay out their plans for child rearing.  "Only organic vegetables, no McDonalds, never a nugget, "breastfed or dead", no TV, no guns, no_____ , no _____, it goes on and on, and if L&L is reading this, please don't be offended, it's not just you, it's every new parent.  EVERY ONE has lofty ideals, and, like weight loss resolutions, we are all eating the peanut butter by March. 

As a community, we have to decide what the minimum standards are for decent behavior, and language on TV is a indication of where we are going.  For many of us, it makes us worry.

OK, so this rant has gone on for a while and is pretty pointless, I know.  And yes, as a sex-blogger I use language that I don't want on TV, I don't want it on CNN, I don't really want it in most movies.  I saw "The Black Swan" yesterday and LOVED it, but there was a single curse-word that improved the movie.  There were a lot of them, but none of them helped.

My friends curse, my friend's kids curse, and it makes them sound awful, uneducated, and crass.  Can you imagine Charles Dickens "Oliver" being any more powerful if, instead of "Please sir, I want some more." we got, "Hey, bitch, give me more fuckin' soup!"

I think not.

I don't know if Love and Lust read's my blog, I doubt she does, but I LOVE hers, and none of this is meant to be a slam on her personally, she just touched on a topic that hit a trip wire of mine, no matter how illogical that may be. Her blog is great, she is beautiful, and now that she's pregnant, she is hotter than ever.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now that you are done with the serious stuff, go check out her Tumblr.  Seriously, go now.  GO!

Monday Funny - Take 2

I found this article when I stayed up way, way, way too late on Saturday night.

http://www.thewrap.com/movies/article/borat-anthem-played-kuwait-ceremony-celebrate-kazakh-win-watch-it-video-36516

I hope it is just as funny on Monday morning.

Be Quiet

Be Quiet!
I hissed in to the phone.  She had kept me waiting for two days.  TWO DAYS!

Last night it was all kiss-ass and wanting.  "I'm so horny, I'm so ready for you, I want you Master."

Bullshit.  It was just a tease, "Oh, my husband's still awake, I can't call, I'm sorry, I just can't."  So I put her on restriction all day.  Nothing.  no touching, not teasing, nothing.

And yet she still begs.  "Make me cum.....  please...."

I wasn't in the mood.  I was pissed, tired, angry that she wasn't taking her restriction to heart and ready to do some damage.  "Call me."  My text was deliberately short.

"I can't, he's asleep but stirring."

"Then good-night."  I turned off my computer and undressed for bed. My half-hard cock already fading in disappointment of another tease.  "For your insubordination there will be no release until Monday."  My thumbs tapped out the note on my phone as I checked on the kids and set my alarms for the Saturday morning.

My phone chirped with a text.

"Please Master, it hurts."

"What hurts?"

"My pussy hurts Master, it needs you so much, I need you.  We need you."  I laughed when she spoke of her genitals in 3rd person horny.  Her body really did take over on occasion, but she was clear headed and lucid and I had thoughts forming in my head. Her saving grace was that she is not a drinker, so when she calls, she can't blame the beer, or the shots.  She calls me for one reason, she wants to cum, and she knows she must get permission to do so.  When I was out of town I told her to resist and ask me before any play session.  She always has permission to fuck her husband, but she even likes permission to do that.  She held on for three days and then ripped him up with a sexual attack that left her sore for two days and him frightened for five.  She told me about it on the phone and said it was too tender to touch, and even shifting in her jeans felt like an unpleasant electric shock.  So I got her on her hands and knees and forced three out of her.  She couldn't touch for a week.

"Master!!!!  My pussy hurts.  It needs you."

"Of course it does, she misses her owner.  Call me."

"I can't, he'll hear."

"Then stop begging.  I have to go to sleep.  I have to get up in the morning. "

"Please........."

"Description please."  She knew what I meant, and she knew she had one chance to get it right.

"Living room , alone, asleep for now.  Blue panties, thong, wet, tight.  no bra, hard, tender, hungry.  White t-shirt.  3 days ago, oral, no, he fell asleep too fast.  And I can't make any noise."

Her obedience cold be so complete sometimes. She listed her location, situation, and last sexual interaction with her husband.  A nice enough guy but unable to handle her sexual avarice.

I met him once, after a church choir concert.  "Nice voice" he said.  "Thank you," I responded, "it's the one I use to make your wife wet.  the last phrase only came out in my head, but we both knew it was there.

"No noise?"

"No, hubs restless"

"Good, remember that."  I slipped out of my jeans and into my pajamas.

The phone rang, I answered.

Shut up.  You only call me when you want to cum, why should I let you?  Answer me that Slut.  Why?  I knew she couldn't answer, but more importantly, she didn't have an answer, she was just being selfish.  You can't say a word, can you, you have to sit there an listen to me.  So you'll listen and obey.  


Take off your shirt.  Can you feel the air on those nipples? i know they are getting hard, and I know they are going to hurt in a minute, but DO IT and don't make a noise.  I heard the phone get put down, a soft rustle of fabric, a small moan, and the phone came back to her ear. Now the panties.  i want that freshly shaved cunt open and ready for my view.  Show yourself to me, don't hide a single crevice, I own you, I own you, your tits, your hips, your waist, your lips, your cunt, yoru ass, you pussy.  I OWN YOU SLUT!!


Her gasp as almost silent.


Now get on your hand and knees and face the couch and spread your legs and don't make a noise.  not a single sound.  She moaned just a little, I could barely hear it over the static of the phone.  BE QUIET!  Damn slut, why can't you follow instructions.  Spread more, but don't touch, just stay there, stay spread, open up for me, show me my property.  


I like this Slut, it's good training, for you to be wet, ready, open, unable to cum without my permission and not ready to break a single rule I give you.  I like you quiet, so i don't have to shove my cock in your face just to get you to stop talking.  Imagine me behind you, inspecting you, pressing back the folds with my gloved hand, inspecting you for sale price, penetrating you vaginally, then anally, to check your health and test your reaction.  You pass both with flying colors.  


I take a long pause, challenging her with silence.  She hates the silence, she has to fill it with her own voice, so I wait.  


Kneel up.  Tall.  Show me your tits, I stand in front of you and paint your forehead with precum as I reach down to pinch your left nipple roughly.  I want your body weight down on your left heal, line it up with your pussy and sit, grind against your foot, feel it between your lips, spread for me, grind it, feelme pressing against you while I tease you as you've teased me.


put one finger between your clit and your foot, trap it there, crush it against your clit, trap it between foot and bone, catch it there and grind against your clit my slut, and DON"T MAKE A SOUND.  I can feel her breathing change 2 time zones away and with her almost silent on the other end.  I say almost, because she can't help a little noise.  


Put your had in the couch, bend over, it's time to fuck you now.  Another sound escapes through the phone.  Be QUIET!  Shit, do you really want your husband to wake up, to find you like this, with fingers shoved up your ass and you bent over the sofa?  Do you want him to know what a slut you are?  Do YOU?  do you want him to hear you moaning like a common whore and step into the living room to see you dripping on his new carpet as your cunt swells and engulfs your fingers?  Really? is that what you want, to be watched as your fingers plunge in and out of both holes, trying desperately to find that tight shincter.  I sensed her head shaking violently back and forth in fear of a husband who hates masturbation, and, I'm sure, the man who makes her do it time and time again.


You have permission to touch, but not permission to cum.  My voice was steady now, I had found my rhythm with her and found the pitch that would bring her to the right space in her head.  i wish i had recorded it, it was a masterpiece, she was there, naked, kneeling on her living room floor with her wet pussy spread and dripping for me,unable to make a single sound. 


Maybe the Attorney is behind you, pumping you full as you grab the headboard of his hotel bed.  You changed your mind and went to meet him.  The bed rocks and squeaks to prove how cheap you and the bed were.  For the price of a mochacappafrappachino you are on your knees, but you smile, because you know you will tell me about every stroke and about every stream of swallowed cum.  


Two fingers inside, right now!  I want penetration, fuck those fingers deeps inside, feel him, don't you cum, don't you dare fucking cum.  Do you hear me?  Answer me slut, tell me how wet you are, how good it feels to have him splitting you open as I stand nearby and watch.  She is silent but whimpering now, she answers with silence, knowing that my first command for quiet remains in effect without the keyword which has not been given.


I look down at my watch, 15 minutes have passed and my monologue continues as I tease and torture her with thoughts of strange new cocks, of freshly split holes, dripping wetness and the markings of a willing slut.  Then I smile.  I must get to bed and her time zone is calling to her as well.


It's not me at all, is it?  My voice is quiet and full of realizations.  It's not me fucking you, it's not event he attorney is it?  Oh fuck, feel your clit, spread the wet to your nipples, keep your head on the couch pillow slut and don't you dare move, smile, or cum without permission.  


it's not me, it's not the attorney, it's not your husband or the lover.  Spread wide for me, let me watch...It's not any of us,....  I waited for a whimper, and got one.  I knew I was right.  


I unzipped and waited for her.  It's that new girl from the weight room, isn't it!  Her groan was loud over the phone and I knew she was frozen in fear of waking her husband, but in pain because of the 30 minutes I had kept her on her knees, on the delicious precipice.  Oh fuck, I get it now, that's who you want.  Nod your head if I'm right.  Her whimper was long and low and desperate, and filled with her need.  Now it was up to me to push her over the edge .  


Feel her soft skin on your back, feel her nipples trace lines down your spine, feel her move and taste and touch you in ways that make where grown men feel squeamish.  


Taste her for me Slut, put your face deep between her legs and wait for her, then SUCK her like your very life depends on it.  Now I had her, she was getting louder, without fear of her husband....


FUCK IT SLUT, get her fingers up deep, get inside my cunt, get inside my ass, just do it.  


Cum you Slut!!!


I heard her cum and continue my verbal assault.  Cum again as I push your head deeper between her legs, eat her, taste her, be my slut and feast as I fuck you from behind.  My voice carries through the house furhther than I'd like so late at night, but the kids remain asleep and I fill the condom I had slipped on during one of the conversational lulls.  Again and again I shot, deep, sticky, white into the comfortable wrapper, as I rested my head on the couch cushions. 

I hit the red button on my phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's late, i'm exhausted, the house is quiet, and I've been writing this between naps on the couch and snippets of the dreams that sprouted every time my eyes closed.  I have re-written entire paragraphs of gibberish that I though were sensible, thoughts of stairs and a broom, and 2 monkeys, a tornado,and other mayhem.

Forgive me if it makes no sense.  It did to her.

Santorum Porn....

Button found on... (click here)

#1 - Rick Santorum is an idiot.  Even as a frustrated Republican, I know he's an idiot, because, and you'd think a Senator would know this, the US Supreme Court has upheld the rights of all American's to watch Porn.  It's a constitutional right.  So, for him to say he is going to "ban" porn because it's harmful, it just so much political blather.  It's worse than that, it's a lie, and out and out lie.  I can't stand him for many reasons, but this is the topper for me, and it has nothing to do with porn itself, it's that he fundamentally does not understand what freedom of speech and freedom of expression mean in America.

Wednesday night

This is not me, nor my bed.

I am so very, very, sleepy.
Today was busy from Sun up to now as the house finally winds down.

Tomorrow will be much the same, up early for the gym, a long drive to a job meeting (not an interview, but a 1st meeting with a recruiter), a long drive back, then home to make dinner for a friend, then picking up the kids, then softball practice, a track meet, and something I'm forgetting, all while the wife takes off for a long overdue Girl's Weekend.

Today was good though.  A meeting with my career coach, a quick review with a printer who's making my business cards, calls to get some head shots done, baseball practice, a wonderful skype chat with a friend (fully dressed, this time), a run to the sporting goods store, the church for youth group, a visit to a post-surgery friend (not post-op as in sex change, just some abdominal maintenance as he called it), a quick lunch with the wife, an argument with the wife, and a couple of errands that all challenged me with chocolate and trail mix (my Kryptonite), but I resisted, and now I'm really really hunger, so popcorn with a tall glass of water on the side to fill me up and get me to bed without a grumbling tummy.

OK, is that enough?  I need a nap.

have a Great Thursday!!!

Finally...

First, an update for a friend of mine last night.

Good News - She initiated sex last night.
Bad News - She then refused to state any needs of her own, only saying, "What do you want?"
Good News - I told her what I wanted, "Straddle my face and hold on to headboard."
Bad News - Her back hated that position, we argued about her lack of communication, we dressed.
Good News - We got the laundry done.

The "finally" news...

8 months after starting an on-line course, I finally passed the exam and am almost 1/2 way to renewing one of my professional certifications.  Now, if I can just stay focused enough, and off Tumblr long enough, to finish the other on-line courses, I'll be good to go.

To my phone friend this morning - you were fantastic, thank you.

To my sick friend - i hope you get better soon.

To my "other" friend - I hope you enjoyed your evening and that all is well in the garage.

On a political note - Rick Santorum is an idiot.  yes, he is a really big idiot.

On a football note - I hate the idea of Tim Tebow leaving the Bronco's, but hate Manning there even more.

As for March Madness, my entire Final Four is safe for now, but I'm not counting on that for long.

OK, that's it for now.  Sorry it's not more exciting.  Taking, and passing, my test took up my whole day.

But it made me happy

Big news

I just found out that my best friend from my old job is pregnant with her boyfriend's baby. 

This means two things (1) I will never have her (2) she will be the hottest pregnant woman on the planet.

Shit.

Rainy Day

Saturday is starting off with a steady rain, a quiet storm, one that didn't even wake me up.  The weatherman had predicted it, the bright green mass on the Doppler 7000 Ultra Deluxe Weather DooHicky showed it coming, but this morning, as my son rolled me out of be at 6:27, I had to look outside to see if the rain had arrived.  In porn world, a knock on the door would herald the arrival of 2 soaking wet young ladies who's car had broken down "just up the road."  Why didn't they stay warm and dry in the car and call from their cell phone?  Maybe the deranged killer from the decrepit institute that everyone forgot about is on the loose and chasing them.  Either way, on a rainy day like this it wouldn't be polite to make them wait outside, so, as I offer them a hot shower, they inevitably get in together and their squeals of delight draw me in and of course, they offer to have sex with me to show their appreciation.

In the real world, I'll be cleaning the garage, the kitchen, helping D1 and D2 with homework and presentations for school.  Wheee

FFF - Feeling or causing despair

Are you kidding me?  Again?

160
Hopeless

He slammed down the phone and threw his anger management squeeze ball across the room.  In horror he saw it clip his AVN award, sending it to the ground with a crash of glass on oak flooring.

“Shit.”

Monica rushed into the room with wide eyes and a worried expression.  She had arranged for the anger management class on order from corporate and feared the investment had been wasted.

What’s wrong boss?

He looked up.  Her adrenalin was running high and it made her cheeks flush and her eye’s glistened like a gazelle who just heard the cheetah’s growl.

Anderson’s hopeless.  He’s hung over and he’s out of Viagra so he bailed out on today’s shoot and Angie’s already on set next door.  We have to cancel.

 He looked up as her jacket, blouse, and then silken bra hit the floor.

We don’t have to cancel anything, Angie and I have been rehearsing for weeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She couldn’t breathe, think, move. 

“What’s wrong?” Even her voice was perfect, alien, out of context, dizzying. 

“I’m…” her voice caught, and her legs shook under her long skirt.  Three quick in-gasps and she was hyperventilating and the room swirled.  She saw her leaping towards her and then it was black.

She came to and felt the comforter over her shoulders.  Embarrassed, she looked around the room and saw her new friend sleeping on the divan near the window.  She cleared her throat, Melisa awoke.

“Some first date, eh?” she wiped away a surprise tear, then another, “I was hoping for so much more, I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”

Melisa slid to the floor and approached on hands and knees, discarding her robe.  Her warm hands slid under the covers and around her waist and pulled her to the edge of the bed and into an embrace.  With a simple kiss, she whispered, “There is always hope.”

And she was right. 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Two takes on a beautiful picture.  Thanks to Pasnserbjorne (or is it "The Panserbjorn"?  Is it a name or title?) for putting things together.  It's good to get back to writing on a budget.  Both ended up at 160 words exactly, but #2 started off at just under 200 words.  I forget how verbose I get when I'm not on a literary leash.

I hope you take time to go to those who found time to write.  Give them some love.

And, if you are LA today, drop by the library, I'll be there until 3 doing homework.

:-)

March Madness!!!

OK, the brackets are set and the games are underway, but who gives a crap about basketball?

Here is the real bracket, Sex v Chocolate.  You have to go each day to vote (sneaky traffic drivers), but is sounds like fun.  I have "Hangnail Fingerbanging" making it to the Sweet 16.

Here's my analysis, open or print out the bracket and follow along

Oral	The #1 seed for obvious reasons, but a lot of it will depend on the depth of commitment and the voting power of the female bloc.  Guys may surprise us with a split vote with one of several strong contenders
Hangnail Fingerbang	A personal favorite, but doomed to fall before the big players
Anal	A rising star in the league this year.  Getting lots of media hype, but this one may just be a passing fad, the hard-core fans just haven’t broadened their base of support.
Handjob on the bus	A great entry, a fantastic story, but it’s hard to call it a favorite when it only happened once in college, “on the way to band camp.”  Yea, we get it, we say the movie.  (And, technically, the picture doesn’t count, it was the front of the bus)
Cowgirl	An over-rated contender in my mind, but there may be a lot of voters out there who don’t want to see their partner’s face anymore.
69	Seeded too low for my tastes, but then again, I love the taste.
Missionary	A perennial favorite, a strong entry for steady play and a good fall-back, but will it catch the attention of the “favorite” designation?
Beach	Great press, fantastic team picture, but they are a true one-and-done contender.  Have you ever gotten sand out of that last little spot?  Me neither.
Shower	Love it, reduces the clean-up issue, but with the injury level high and the danger of too much echo, I don’t see Shower getting out of the first round
Titty fuck	It all depends on who is playing. Team A    or Team DD
Spoon	A sleeper, may surprise us, but aficionados will probably be sleeping too much to vote.
Rim-job	Another niche player, better than spooning by a mile, but a smaller fan base.  Surprisingly good team photo
BDSM/Kink	In today’s league, a stronger player than expected.  Could go deep, very deep, so deep it hurts, BITCH!  Ha, Take that you slave/slut/whore!!  And put on this donkey mask while you are at it!!!    J
In public	This one will win big if George Michael is is still voting.
Doggy Style	A real come from behind possibility.
Facials	Wonderful, glorious, but does anyone really “enjoy” getting them?  If you do, let me know….

I am not Armenian...but...

I've driven by this church a hundred times, a thousand?  I love the color of the roof, the roughness of the stone, the shape and flow of the building in it's simplicity, yet, it reminds me of larger, more ornate buildings...

I had a meeting that took me around a detour the put me on a street, that made me do a U-turn, that put me through a neighborhood that spit me out on the doorstep of this beautiful building, so I stopped.

The church was open, yet deserted, save for three priests that wandered here and there, undoubtedly keeping an eye on the stranger with the camera and the torn jeans.  (I didn't say it was a fancy meeting.)

I said hello to them as they walked quietly back and forth, but only got a head -nod and a mumble.  Perhaps they had taken a vow of silence, I thought, until, 10 steps past me, they started, or re-started, an animated conversation in a language I could not begin to follow.  Perhaps they thought me not worthy of a conversation, not in a bad way, but in a "he's just a tourist so leave him alone" kind of way.

As I wandered in and out of the open doors, I wondered if they would object to a few pictures.  I tried to ask one young man, who came in to light a few candles, but he begged off and said that he didn't speak any English, so I waited until he left and then took some pictures, loving the mosaic work inside and out, and the quiet of the grounds.  As I wandered I came across a plaque commemorating the Armenian Genocide of 1915.  I had heard about it but did not know about it.  So, I did what all good computer people do, I went to Wikipedia to learn more.

The horror of an event like this, actually, a long string of events, is hard to fathom, yet depressingly close at hand.  Other nations, groups, tribes, peoples, are doing this still, trying to eradicate "the other."  Why?  Is your  God so weak that He can not brook any opposition?  Is your ethnic purity so pure that having us mongrels around pollutes even the water you drink?

My daughter's history class is approaching WWII and we started talking about the Holocaust and the impact it had on the world.  She is so young and innocent that she has (thank goodness) a hard time conceptualizing such atrocities.  I spoke of the TV series, "The World at War" that played in to my living room once a week and taught me my first lessons in brutality and the reign of men.  The scale of the Armenian holocaust, while smaller, seems to be a precursor to the horrors of the Nazi plan.

It was a beautiful day as I wandered around this building, this edifice to worship and to a higher life.  Yet, as I read the words, and researched the story, I felt clouds gather.  We treat each other so badly, we little humans who think was are so big.  I haven't been much fun on the blog as of late, sorry about that.  Some friends are going through tough times and so I absorb some of their moods and go in to quiet mode.

I challenge each of you to be nice to someone new, to reach out to someone old, and make the world a little happier, a little more kind.

it's dark again

I love having it light in the evening, though we didn't start dinner until after 6, having lost all track of time based on the sun.  But now I'm back to driving to the gym in the dark, and that's no fun.  I was just getting used to seeing myself as I walked out the door.  (And no, the video doesn't make "sense."  It's just snapshots taken out my front window as I drive to they gym in the dark.)

So come with me for a drive.  

Meet me at the gym.

Show me your new spandex shorts, 

Your cute new tank top, 

The sports bra you love so much.

Let me see you sweat as you lift

Strain as you curl

Grimace as you crunch

and groan as you stretch.

Share a lane with me.

Let me see your arms dig through the water

the muscles of your back twitching and moving

Gracefully, as you suit conceals and reveals

And make me dream of mermaids and the deep.

Talk to me,

As the bubbles tickle in places hidden

And the heat soothes our limbs

as your smile soothes my mind

Take my hand under the surface

Hide your heart if you must, 

but don't let go.

Why I Love Hockey

I don't really, but it bugs my Canadian friends to say, that THIS is why I would like hockey if I did, which I don't.

Have a great Sunday!

Happy to help

I join the class every Thursday, right after roll call and just before the final bell.  I wave to the kids, smile at the teacher, and take my place at the large table in the back of the room.  I see the assignments laid out, coloring today, a playful collection of "greater than/less than" pictures comparing apples, clowns, puppies, and fish.

We barely make eye contact with each other.  I've been doing this long enough that she need not worry about me.  The kids know to listen, she knows I am there, happy to help.  5 kids at a time rotate through, and we color and laugh and laugh and review the lesson.  "Are there more puppies or fish?" I ask, and they giggle and answer and we try again.  Another batch, the same jokes, the same funny faces from them and from me, but it doesn't get old.  Out of the corner of my eye I see her smiling at me, but when I catch her, she blushes and turns away.

Today I catch her as she sits in the middle of the rainbow rug, her pedicured feet peeking out from under the long flowery skirt she was instructed to wear in an e-mail the night before.  Her choice of panties was also dictated, but everything else was left to her and she highlighted her frame beautifully in a soft, but snug sweater with a pink satin bra underneath.

Another group cycles through and my time in the class is drawing to a close.  The last group begins and I start to clean up as they finish each page.  Soon the tables are cleared, the crayons are stacked, the wipes are put away, and the rainbow rug is filled with 25 eager faces, ready for recess.

I gather my kids for one last high-5 as the bell rings and the 5th grade chaperon leads them to the play yard.

Now she stares at me, her eyes sparkling as she extends her hand.  Her skin is soft and warm as we walk through the door, closing it behind us.  She turns to the wall and lifts her skirt, tying the lose fabric in a soft knot to allow her hands to be free.  With one hand on the wall for support, the other reaches back and pulls the damp fabric out of the way.

She is pure heaven inside.  Tight and young, but not virginal, eager, but not slutty, subservient, but not broken.

We begin to move, silent, urgent, needful, intimate.

She gasps and I release and we continue as the aftershocks double, then triple her pleasure.  Reaching inside, I scoop the wetness and paint her loins with our mingled wet.  Smoothing the fabric to cover her, I caress gently and then re-adjust her skirt for her.  She has, and knows, her place, and I have mine.

She stand, eyes down, until I lift her chin with a finger and kiss her tenderly.

"Thank you for being in class today." she whispers sincerely.

"I'm always happy to help."

The children are returning and I give more waves, high-5s and knuckle bumps.  The next volunteer walks in with them, excited to do parts of speech or counting, but that is all they will do, and I smile at the thought.

Good Day / Bad Day

Good
I got up on time
Was down a pound on the scale
Made it to class on time
Taught my cycling class
Had a lady come in, during class, to thank me for yesterday's class
I swam for 16 minutes without stopping (not a big deal to some, but for me, not bad)
Soaked in the jacuzzi
Got home to an empty house
Had a healthy breakfast
Actually did work on getting work
Met two new recruiters by phone and got additional contact/job information
Watched this, and this.(hey, everyone needs a break)
Helped my sister fix her computer
Got a call from an actual company who wants to meet with me on Monday!
Got a couple of new LinkedIn connections that might be really useful for information.
Updated my Tumblr and took time to add a couple to my list
Wrote 2 thank you letters
Helped a friend get to orgasm
Had a yummy dinner and ate it all since I skipped lunch and had calories to spare
Had sex before bed (well, it's in the plan at least)

Bad

Only had 9 people in class, I think I've scared them off.
Ate a really nasty granola bar (no wonder my kids haven't touched them)
Skipped lunch (except for 2 apple and aforementioned granola bar)
My iPod freaked out.
Missed connecting with a friend by phone.  We've been at crossed schedules for a few days now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the whole, a very productive and kind of playful day.  I like days like today.

And, a couple of notes to my other friends...

• So, the BF never left?
• I love it when the moon is full
• Did you enjoy your boxing class last night?  Did it chafe?
• 212.2  WHOOOOO HOOOOO
• I updated Tumblr for you again
• How was class?  
• I hope you got your two for being a good mom.
• Who did you dance for?
• I'm glad you are writing again

and, as always, for those who are no longer with us, or just too busy having a life, I miss you all terribly.

Career Coach

Today I met with a career coach that I might hire to help me with my job transition.  He worked with a friend of mine a few years ago and was highly recommended.  He turned out to be a nice guy, as I suspected he would, and, while I know he is making a pitch for my business, gave me a lot of insights after an hour conversation and some interesting questions.  Most interviewers go back to my first job, they discuss my work, my career, my “best job/worst job” opinions.  Standard stuff.  Frank (not his real name) went all the way back to junior high.  We talked very little about work for the 1<sup>st</sup> 30 minutes, but instead, focused on sports and my music and friendships and plans for college and how I did once I got there. 

I knew he was analyzing me, that is what it was all about, but his questions were oblique enough that he kept me guessing and made the game of “analyzing the analysis” even more fun.  Finally we talked about work and career and goals, and I think he got a lot things 100% right.  I like to keep people happy, I  like to make tings work better for the next time, I like working with people so they want to do their jobs better, and I think that technology can give them a lot of the tools they need. 

The next time we talk I told him I wanted his full sales pitch, we both know it’s coming so why not admit it and stop pretending that he’s not on the phone out of charity, it’s how he makes his living.  That will happen next week, I think.

I wonder how his analysis would change if he read my blog, followed my Tumblr, or even read my random tweets.  What would he say then?  And, would he be pissed if he know THIS was playing in the back ground.