Drunken non-escapades

I have this entire week off of work, and oh dear god it is wonderful.  I get to wake up at 9 when Jay leaves for the day, kiss him goodbye, and then snooze for a bit.  Then I get to do whatever I want.  It is extremely awesome and I don't want to go back to work, like, ever.

Unfortunately, I still have not figured out a way to make money without going to work, so Monday's going to suck it.

Over the long weekend - well, Jay's long weekend; he is, as mentioned, working this week - we went to visit some dear friends of ours and stayed with them.  There was much drinking, much movie watching, and much video game  playing, as it was about A MILLION DEGREES OUTSIDE and none of us are fans of the heat.

Saturday night we made salsa and were drinking mojitos.  I would not have called myself a rum fan - and still wouldn't - but oh lord I love me a good mojito.  I lost count at 5, which was somewhere around 11 that night.  Jay and I eventually went to bed around 3, and, being drunk, that meant I was horny.  The problem is, I'm loud.  Like, really loud.  I am an extremely vocal person anyway, that doesn't stop during sexual activity, and my voice really carries.  And we were in our friends' apartment, with four other people, so being loud wasn't an option.  Jay being an asshole, he was doing things specifically designed to make me scream, such as trying to remove my nipples by hand (swear to god that's what he was doing).  It's a lot more intense, I think, when you have to deal with the pain silently.

This went on for a while, and my control started slipping and I let out a whimper.   Jay responded by putting his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, which was hot as hell for the thirty seconds it took my brain to work out that there was something on my fucking face ohohgodohgodgetitoff.  Things on my face - like hands, scarves, masks, etc. - freak me out proper.  So I freaked, Jay cuddled me, and we passed out.  Dammit.

We did make up for it Monday  night when we got home, though, so that makes me feel a bit better.  But it was sober, which is a completely different sensation.  Ah well.  It's good to be home.

Bitten

The first clue I had that perhaps my attaction to Hal was not entirely of the platonic sort was when he mentioned his fangs.

I have a very sensitive neck, and sensitive ears as well.  Jay has made me squirm and shriek just by coming near them, and a breath across the right patch of skin raises goosebumps down the entire corresponding side of my body, something which Jay finds endlessly entertaining.  I'm rather protective of these areas, as goosebumps are not my idea of fun very often.

Perhaps that's why I like to be bitten - having my ears gently gnawed, or my neck tenderly nibbled - or not so tenderly - is quite arousing for me.  Having other parts bitten is enjoyable as well, but the sensitivity of the skin on my neck and ears adds something to the deal.  Having my neck bitten makes my eyes roll back in my head as my entire body shudders in pleasure, my breath coming hot and heavy.

When I first met Hal, we immediately clicked.  You know how it is with some people, where you know immediately upon meeting them that they are absolutely supposed to be a part of your life and there was a part of you just waiting for them to show up?  That kind of click.  If it weren't for the circumstances under which I met him, which prohibit our having anything other than a professional relationship right now, he'd immediately have taken his place as one of my best friends ever.  He'd be the kind of friend to spend the night at the bar with me, take in a Sox game, just hang out and play video games, and have geeky, intense, ridiculous conversations with late at night.  He would be, as I told him, one of "the posse".

We discovered early on that we're geeky in so many similar ways, although he has an unfortunate preference for Spider-Man rather than Batman.  We discussed games, and more comics, etc. and so on and were talking more about our personal lives when he mentioned the pair of fangs he owns.

My fevered little brain immediately granted me the image and sensation of him using those fangs on my neck.

Up until that moment, I would have sworn - in fact, did, to Vinnie - that everything was strictly platonic.  I was mostly kidding myself, I think; most of our conversations consisted of the sort of flirting one sees in the "I make fun of you because I like you" stage, although I really was somewhat convinced that it didn't mean anything other than two friends good-naturedly ragging on each other.  Clearly, my body and mind had other ideas, as they have frequently told me since.

I popped my con cherry

So Jay and I have been traveling this past week, and part of the itinerary included Providence, RI, home to a few good friends of ours from college who we haven't seen for a while. It happened to be my friend Elaina's birthday this past weekend as well, which neatly coincided with the New England Leather Alliance's Fetish Fair Fleamarket. In conversations with Elaina prior to the weekend, it was decided that we should spend the day on Saturday at the Flea, you know, since we were in the neighborhood and all.

Now, my initial reaction, after I agreed to this idea of hers, because of course I agreed to this because I am cool and cosmopolitan, was, HOMIGOD, I am going to be out in public at a kinky event and I am not sure this was a good idea. You see, for all of my sophistication, I don't do the whole "no, really, I'm kinky" thing. You know, there's a reason that this blog is anonymous, okay? I am not okay with being "out there", at least with kink.

So I sucked it up and went anyway. There were a half a dozen of us who went, and while I thought it would be really weird to be at a kinky convention with friends who don't know that I'm kinky it... well, wasn't. The nice thing about these friends is that they're all adults and really couldn't care less.

Now, when we first got there, I was kind of freaking out a little bit. I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to handle the whole "convention" thing. So, I treated it like I was at an event back in the days when I worked in the queer community - just relax, don't stare, take it all in stride. And, it worked. True, I saw some really odd things there, and I did repeat "your kink is not my kink, but your kink is okay" a LOT, but, honestly, I had a pretty good time.

There were a couple of, well, moments. First was one of those "holy shit, people from the internets are REAL" moments, when I got to meet Monk and alex and bought rope from them. I like to think I was a cool customer. I probably wasn't. I was thisclose to saying "teehee I read your blog" and introducing myself. That was a little too gutsy for me, however, so I settled for buying lots of rope, and being disappointed that there was no Bavarian Blonde.

The second was when I guess I gave away a little too much, because Elaina totally gave me a look, like, "how do you know this?" One of her other friends was going to a class, and she was trying to figure out which one. She mentioned that it was being given by Midori, and I said, without thinking, "Oh, probably something about rope bondage then". She Looks at me. I shrug it off and say "I am the queen of knowledge on the internet, dude." I think she suspects that is not so much the case.

Finally, Jay bought me a corset. It is delicious and wonderful and I loves it SO MUCH.

But yes, a good time was had by all. I may even be persuaded to attend another public kinky event at some point. Maybe.

My house looks like a tornado hit it

Best part? I haven't even been here for the past two weeks. And I didn't even host any parties! It's all leftovers from frenzied baking, present-wrapping, packing for trips, etc. and so on.

Pretty much the entirety of the past two months has gone by in a blur. From painting Elizabeth's house in early November, to Thanksgiving with Jay's family (oh god, why was that a good idea) to Christmas with mine and New Year's out of state and this and that and that other thing and HOLY CHRIST I have no idea where I just spent two months and sixteen hojillion dollars. Can't tell you.

I am not ready for it to be 2008. I am not ready to go back to work (which is why I didn't today). I am not ready to tackle the unpacking, the laundry, the cleaning (jesus christ, there's a spiderweb between my couch and my bookshelf), the restocking of food and coming up with healthy things to eat and the getting back on track with being healthy and just EVERYTHING. I am not currently prepared to cope with life as usual.

So I am going to put up my feet. I am going to do up my new calandar (that cost me twenty freaking bucks! What the fuck!) because that will make me feel more organized. I may or may not sign in to my work email. I am going to get myself a glass of wine, of which I bought a ridiculous amount this past weekend. I am going to throw my ski clothes in the wash, and then I am going to watch the Doctor Who Christmas special because I STILL haven't goddamned managed to do that!

I hope you all had wonderful holidays, whatever or however you celebrate, and wish you all the best in 2008 (jesus, it's 2008, that's horrifying).

What if I say I'm not like the others?

First, the doctor-bullshit update:

Shoulder MRI? Completely normal. So I say to the doctor, "So if it's normal, why does it hurt?" His answer? "I don't know. Do you want to do PT, or see the guy in the office who specializes in shoulders and is in fact giving a lecture on shoulders at a conference at this very minute?" I opted for the shoulder guy, and spared a minute to wonder why the receptionist didn't book me with him in the first place - considering I told her I needed to have my shoulder checked out!

Other stuff: I went to the new doctor, and holy god, my blood pressure and pulse were normal. That hasn't happened at the doctor's office for years. She sat, listened to everything, asked some questions my other doctor didn't bother to ask, poked and prodded, and is having me set up for a CT scan. She is much more willing to work with me to find an answer - but, was honest enough to tell me that nothing in medicine is 100%. I looked at her, and said "Yeah, but I'd settle for like, 75 or so", and she laughed and said "I'll bet we can at least do that."

So I feel better about that. Still hurt, still feel like crap, but, progress has been made.

This weekend, I'm going to a bachelorette party and the wedding - the party being the one I mentioned the scrapbook was requested. I still don't do overly emotional stuff, so I am opting to stop at the liquor store and bring my friend a very nice bottle of something alcoholic. I figure it's still in line with the bachelorette party theme, but does not make me want to vomit to think about it. And, I know it won't be unappreciated. I talked with Rabbit, who is one of the bridesmaids, and she agrees that a bottle of booze would not come amiss - being as how our mutual friend s well aware of how I view things like "scrapbooking" and "special memories" and "girly shit", and also happens to share my taste in beverages.

I don't like bachelorette parties anyway. Well, not ones with OMG PENIS PENIS PENIS LET'S DO RIDICULOUS THINGS IN PUBLIC PENIS PENIS PIE themes, anyway. Honestly, for mine, I am content to get together a bunch of my friends, of all genders, and go out to a bar and drink. That's it. Not a club, no games, nothing. Or maybe, go to a casino, drink, and gamble. That's it. Like, we don't need to giggle over the fact that I'm going to have sex; we're not sixteen and I've had it before. Nor do we really need to make fools of ourselves in public. It is really just unnecessary.

Also, why the hell is it that whenever I find a pair of jeans I adore, they promptly discontinue them? Like, my Gap boot-cut button-flys? Discontinued. My Venezia Supremes? Discontinued. Swear to god, they wait until I buy it, then stop it. Hate that.

Other than that, Jay's coming over tonight, which is nice, so he can keep me warm. I am enjoying the fact that the nights have been chilly again. Very much so.

Nosh

It was Jay's birthday this weekend, and he'd decided that he just wanted to have some friends over to my place and relax there. His birthday falls on Cinco de Mayo, so we usually drink Coronas.

Not to be outdone this year, I decided to make homemade salsa, because I like to show off and I thought it would be appropriately themed. It doesn't hurt that salsa is one of the few things that Jay will eat on the spicy side, and I like encouraging spice. Mmm, spicy food.

Seriously, if I'd known that salsa was as stupid easy to make as it is, I would have made salsa a long damn time ago. I think it took me all of ten minutes to make the fucking salsa. Oh, no, I lied, it took at least fifteen, since that's how long the jalapenos were roasting.

Also made were a delicious fruit salsa with homemade cinnamon-sugar tortilla chips. That was for me. Because I like fruit. And salsa.

As we were grocery shopping on Friday, I was in the world's pissiest mood, since I hadn't eaten all day. But, in the middle of the grocery store, I realized that perhaps a cake would be in order, so I asked Jay if he wanted one.

"I don't know..."

"I will make or buy whatever you want."

"It should involve chocolate."

I figured that I had to have a chocolate cake recipe at home, so away we went. Except that in all of my damn recipes, I do not have a basic chocolate cake recipe. Not one. Three versions of Black Forest cake, though.

The day was not lost, however, as I had a recipe for chocolate peanut butter cake, which neatly combined two of Jay's favorite things and thankfully turned out delicious and only used ingredients I already had in my house. So I baked a cake. And I am sitting here licking the frosting off of the sides of the pan, because holy crap is it good.

I did not mean for this post to become entirely about food, so I will end with saying that a good time was had by all, and that we ate a lot of salsa.