Still don't want to have sex.

You know, judging by the fact that I took work off today so that I could sleep and avoid it, and reading back on all the entries here about how annoyed at work I am and generally feeling crappy, I have come to the conclusion that it is, once again, time to find a new job.

My current job is not, so not, in the field I want to be in right now. I mostly took this job because it would be easy, low-stress, and something that would not interfere with graduate school. Admittedly, it did that admirably. It also pays me well and is pretty flexible, and my boss is very understanding about little things like health problems.

However, this job is also boring the bejesus out of me. At this point, it's too easy. I feel like I have completely mastered any and everything they've thrown at me in the past year and a half. Also, I have a new boss. Theoretically, this also comes with new duties, which were supposed to happen the beginning of this month, then they were supposed to happen at the end of March, and now they're supposed to be "in progress" right now and totally my deal by the end of March. This is part of the ongoing reorg that the department I'm in is going through, and it's totally being handled poorly. Just like it has been for the past year.

The thing is, even with the new duties, I'm not going to be doing what I want to do, which, right now, is social work. Admittedly, that's easier to do if I finish my degree, and I'm probably not going back to school until next year, at this point, for a number of reasons. But, current job is stable, current job theoretically is giving me a huge raise soon, and theoretically also giving me better benefits soon.

The new duties are also not going to distance me very much from the annoying people that I hate. You know, the ones that are incapable of reading their email, instead preferring to call me six times to ask the same question that I answered in the email to them three weeks ago. Yeah, those people. Still going to have to work with them. All set with working with them. You do not even know how all set.

So at this point, I have to figure I have a couple of options, looking something like this:

• Stay in job, suck it up, deal with it, and wait until new duties come along, hoping that the raise goes through and then I will really be able to put away some dough. This is likely to result in an extremely poor state of mental health, if my history is anything to go by.
  
• Stay in job, and start volunteering again at the agency I was at before graduate school. This would likely alleviate some of the worst pangs of "ugh, this is not where I am meant to be," but still doesn't solve the problem of idiocy. Yes, I know, idiocy is everywhere, but at least if I moved, it would be different idiocy.
  
• Stay in job, and see if I can't get back in to grad school for this year. Part of the reason I left grad school, was that they would not work around the fact that I had a 9-5 job, even though I was in the program specifically for people with jobs. Part of the reason I'm not back yet is because I want to make sure that if I go back into a program, they really are going to work around the fact that I work, and not just give lip service to the idea.
  
• Get a new job.

The first is right out. I'm already to the point where I'm calling off of work because I hate it, so really, making zero changes ain't going to cut it. I am undecided on the other three. Any bright ideas?

Note:

Apparently black patent leather, 4" spike heel, knee-high, lace-up-like-a-corset boots really do it for Jay.

Things that bother me, version 6742

1. People who don't pay attention. Seriously. Unfortunately, I work with a lot of people who don't pay attention. Most often, it takes the form of asking me the same question multiple times. This is especially annoying when, before you could even ask the question, I sent you an email with documentation which, should you choose to read it and retain some information, will answer your question. I mean, I understand people forget. Hell, I do it all the time. But forget one week after I sent you that email? Pay. the fuck. attention. asshat.
   
   
   
   
   
2. Sanctimonious gestures. This came up from Manolo for the Brides, which is part of the superfantastic group of Manolo blogs, most of which I read obsessively regardless of actual relevance to my life. Anyway, I am firmly on the side of the blogger here - giving a donation to charity in lieu of favors - and then telling your guests that you did it - is a sanctimonious piece of show-offery and is, quite frankly, bullshit. Look dude, I don't care if you want to give to charity. That's your money, your business. I don't even care which charity or charities you support. But when you drag me in to it - whether my name was given to the charity or not - dude, now you're just a prick. I couldn't care less about favors. I do care about pharisaic gestures.
   
   
   
   
   
3. Books that treat kink like a sickness. I admit, I read a lot of crap paperbacks. Whatever, they're cheap and very escapist. I happen to like Kay Hooper's SCU novels. A lot. But I really hate that in one of them, one of the murder victims has a pretty sweetly equipped dungeon in his basement, and it's referred to as "sick", "twisted", "perverted", etc. and so on. And how one of the other characters says "It's not something most women would enjoy." Okay, one, BDSM is not, in and of itself, sick. Please make the distinction between BDSM in general, and what this guy did in particular - which, given that he was 30-something and his partner was 12, is in fact pretty fucked up. What two consenting non-abusing adults do in their bedroom is not sick. Sex is not sick, toys are not sick, playing with sensations is not sick, for fuck's sake.
   
   And finally...
   
   
   
   
   
4. Making assumptions about what I like, just because I have tits. Just because I appear to be female, does not mean I like "what most women like". For example, I happen to like kink! In fact, after the Flea, I'm discovering that a lot of women happen to like kink, and a lot of my friends do, too. Surprise! I also don't like diamond rings, white dresses, dresses in general, and fancy luncheons. (Can you tell I've been reading a few books about the commercialization of American weddings lately? Fascinating how fucked-up it all is.) I don't like a lot of perfumes (I'm allergic to most of them), I don't like receiving "girly" gifts (please don't give me scented or otherwise fancy soaps or lotions; I won't use them, because I don't like how a lot of them smell), I really hate bachelorette parties (and no, bachelorette really is not a word), I really hate shopping, and quite honestly, I would rather shoot myself than do a lot of stereotypical female things. I like what I like, regardless of its traditional gender role. Please stop making assumptions about me, it gets really annoying.

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).

I cannot wait for this week to be over

Can someone please explain to me why so many people have trouble following simple, goddamn written down directions?

I would really like to know. Because if I know why they can't handle it, maybe I have a shot at fixing it, and I won't have to repeat a week like this one, where if it can be fucked up at work, it has been fucked up, and 99% of the fuck-ups are because people cannot follow directions.

give me another round of...

You know, I like this "going to doctors and getting answers" thing. Not only did I find out what the hell was going on with my abdomen (and yes, it's possible that it was the main source of pain all along), but I also found out what's going on with my shoulder. That's only been screwed up for, oh, five months?

Leaving the question of why I wasn't booked with the clinic's shoulder specialist in the first place, I finally saw him yesterday. Diagnosis? Biceps tendinitis and a torn labrum. Which apparently was visible on the MRI, if you were looking for it. Glad I want to see him; I like knowing these sorts of things.

Basically, the torn labrum thing (well, and the tendinitis) is something that will just have to get better more or less on its own. However, we are going to try to speed up the process using physical therapy; I have my first evaluation appointment this coming Tuesday. While PT isn't my favorite thing in the world, I'll deal with it if it means less shoulder hurting.

I really, really like having explanations for things. It makes it a lot easier to deal with if I have a label for it.

Soporific

I had already taken off my clothes, and was sprawled across the bed in all my naked glory. Behind me, Jay was undressing.

It was a late night; we were both tired and had stayed up watching baseball. I hear the belt come out of the loops, and then nothing else. I turn, see him holding the belt with a considering look in his eye, and dive under the covers.

Meep.

I hear him set the belt down, and poke my head out to look at him, raising one of my eyebrows.

He looks back at me, and I remind him that there is a world of difference between "Oh the HELL you're doing that to me" and "oh my god please don't do that to me", and we were definitely in the territory of the latter.

Once having this properly explained to him, Jay proceeded to put me to sleep by applying his belt to my ass. And it was fantastic.

Talk about anti-climactic

Well, the good news is that I do not have a kidney infection, nor do I have any of the other potential things that quite honestly, were a bit scary. I did have an ovarian cyst that burst, apparently, which is kind of sucky, but in terms of things I would rather have it be, there's not really that many.

Better news, there weren't any more abnormal cysts on the CT scan, and now that I'm not completely losing my shit, I should really start feeling better. Which, I do. At the very least, I'm much more calm, and that really does help a lot. Things are not perfect, but at the very least I have a diagnosis, and I have a timeline besides "we don't know".

Work... kinda still sucks, but now that I have one less thing to worry about, it's a little easier to take.

Mostly what I've been up to, I guess you could call nesting. I cleaned the blankets for my bed, and I made a wreath for my front door, and I'm cooking and baking again. I'm also starting a container garden on my back porch, which so far includes garlic. Yup, pretty awesome. I'm going to put some tulips in later this week. One of my garlic cloves is already sprouting (which I am told they tend to do and is totally okay), so that is exciting, because my green thumb, not usually so green.

Other than that, I am waiting on ski season. Oh, and feeling obligated (by no one but myself) to spend Thanksgiving with Jay's family. This puts a slight kink in my plans to go skiing on Thanksgiving again. Skiing just might win out, familial relations be damned.

Brief update

Had my CT scan yesterday. Can I just share, why are there incompetent nurses out there? I had blood taken on Monday. When she jabbed the needle into my arm, I about jumped off the table it hurt so badly - and it's not like I haven't had blood taken about six ZILLION times before; I can usually tell them exactly which vein to use, and it doesn't normally hurt. This, this hurt.

Result: huge bruise on my right forearm.

Wednesday, for the CT scan, not only did I have to drink nearly a liter of barium contrast medium (which is awful, ps), and put up with the waiting room (which was awful, ps), I got to have an IV put in my left arm so that they could also inject me with iodine. I've had IVs dropped in my arms, too. She's all prepping for my right arm (guess she didn't see the GIGANTIC BRUISE), so I tell her to use the left, which I also know from experience functions marvelously for venipuncture. Again, so much pain, I about jump off the table. I do not know why this is so complicated, especially when it's your damn job.

Anyway, I have an appointment with my doctor next week to discuss the results. In the meantime, I feel like crap and haven't worked yesterday or today. I am really, really glad that my boss is 100% understanding and supportive.

Also, I napped on my couch again today, and left a truly magnificent drool spot on my pillow. I literally woke up in a puddle. It was pretty awesome.

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.

Why I am angry

I'm less angry than I was last week, although still mightily pissy. My level of tolerance for bullshit is at near-record low levels, people.

As for why I am angry, a lot of it revolves around my health and my work (surprise!). The health issues are ongoing, which is why I am angry about them. Basically, I can handle being sick or unhealthy for about a week - maybe two if I'm so sick that I sleep twenty out of twenty-four hours. After a week, by god, I should be feeling better. So, since I've had a shoulder that's screwed up for three months, and random kidney-abdominal-what-the-fuck pain in my back and "suprapubic area" (no lie, that is what my doctor called it; I think it's great), I'd like to shoot something.

Also frustrating is the medical establishment. I had to harass the woman in the shoulder specialists' office for a month before my MRI was scheduled. For two weeks, she was talking to the insurance to get it covered, so okay. But the last two weeks? I know the insurance approved it, because they sent me a letter saying so. Right.

As for the kidneyesque shit, it hasn't gone away. It got slightly better two weeks ago, so I thought maybe I really was on the mend. That would be why I didn't call my doctor to schedule the CT scan on the 4th - 'cause I felt a bit better.

Last Thursday, I didn't go to work, I slept all day. Friday, I woke up in the worst pain in those areas I've had since I first got diagnosed with a freakin' UTI. So I promptly called my doctor's office, and, like she had asked me originally, left a message for her saying that we should go ahead and schedule the CT scan. Again, this was Friday. Morning.

It is now Tuesday, and I have not heard from her. So, I found myself a new PCP and have an appointment with her tomorrow. I am hoping that I will like her more than my last PCP.

I also called the shoulder specialists' office and made an appointment with that doctor to go over the MRI I finally had on Friday. I would like to share, that the tech said I did a very good job and held very still. What she doesn't realize is that this MRI, while it is true that I was in pain through it, was a hell of a lot less painful than the last one I had. That time it was for my back, and, at the time, I didn't know that I had two herniated discs. Right.

Thankfully, my boss is awesome, so I've been keeping her updated with what's going on, and she's 100% okay with me not working tomorrow morning and instead going to both doctors. She is also convinced that I have a kidney stone, but we shall see.

As for the work reasons for angry, basically, I'm filling in for a job that's not mine, but it's in an area that we're short-staffed. It's a support position, and there's one other guy in there who is full-time. The problem is that full-time guy wants to take not a whole lot of responsibility for doing, y'know, his job, which drives me up the damn wall. Any time he can pass a support issue off to someone else, he does, which is so not what he's supposed to be doing. He just is not showing a lot of initiative in figuring out issues, learning stuff, etc., which is highly disappointing. He also seems to be assuming that I'm going to pick up as much as a full-time person, and I am so not, because I so do not have time, because I'm doing all of my regular full-time job - this is just icing on the cake and a favor to my boss (which yes, I know, I know).

I'm also frustrated with another group that's testing all of our applications for next year's planned major OS upgrade, since I have to tell them information six times. I finally got to the point with one of their questions that I simply replied "Please see the attached email of [date] for the answers to your question, which I have already provided to you", and attached the previous email I sent them. Two weeks later, I got the same exact question, from the same exact person.

But my company wants to outsource more IT support. Good plan, oh yeah, excellent idea, it's really worked well so far.

And finally, I'm upset because while I like my job, and I love the people I work with, it's so not what I want to be doing with my life right now. I don't hate it or anything, but I do get frustrated with people not taking responsibility, action, or, y'know, writing shit down, and I get frustrated because I have to work, but it's not what I want to be doing.

That's pretty much it. Just a lot of crap, and a lot of stress, and a lot of feeling blah, and it all really dumped on my head on Wednesday. It's a good thing Jay is so patient, because I highly doubt that I've been extremely pleasant to deal with over the past week.

fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool, fuck you

You ever have one of those days, where it sucks ass and you're ready to shoot something even before you get out of bed, and it just goes downhill from there?

Yeah.

I am going to bed now to avoid any further bullshit. I'm so angry I don't even want to talk about it right now.

fuck yeah

Ah god, I love football season.

I get reminded of things from books all the time

There's a certain statue at my alma mater that, local lore has it, will come to life and disappear if a virgin ever graduates.

I remember being told this as a fresh-faced 18-year-old, straight from the Midwest and convicted as all hell, and I determined that the statue would finally leave on my graduation day, if the stories were true.

It didn't, because neither did I.

seriously

Yo rice. You done been in the slow cooker with the chicken on high for three hours, with extra liquid in the sauce so that you could soak it the fuck up. Is there a reason you're not done besides "I hate you"?

Bitchin'

So, I might still have a kidney infection. I'm not sure. I finished week two of the seriously-not-fucking-around antibiotics last week, and... this week I still have to pee all the time, and my kidney-area is still hurting me, and I'm still uncomfortable as hell. SUPERAWESOME!!!1*&$^

I realize that, right, the smart idea would be to, I don't know, call my doctor, but I don't want to for a few reasons. First, I hate her. Secondly, I hate her. C, the ultrasound of my kidneys and bladder came back completely normal, so that makes me think that maybe I'm crazy and there's nothing wrong with me (except there is), and four, I hate going to a doctor and not being told what is wrong. It's like, if I'm going to actually go and physically see the doctor because something is wrong with me, I want an answer to what is wrong with me, and a solution that, y'know, works. Guesses, speculation, and "I don't know", I can do myself, and much more affordably (just wait until you see my rates! And you thought a $10 copay was cheap).

Unfortunately, of the times I have gone to a doctor in the past five years with a problem, only once have I gotten an actual answer and a treatment that worked. That was the time I was freaking hospitalized. Other than that? "Well... try this. It might be this. We don't know why you're having these symptoms because all of the tests come back normal."

I hate that shit, yo.

Fifth, I hate her, and while I don't want to work right now, working is a much more attractive option than going to see her.

Other things I need to do include getting the damn alarm taken off my car, go grocery shopping, figure out what the hell else I'm going to eat for lunch and dinner this week (I have to do this, otherwise I revert to eating cheese and junk food for all three meals), and do something with the half of my room that is currently an unorganized pit of despair.

Sounds like a good time to catch up on my blog reading, doesn't it?

Two cranky thoughts

Can I just share, and I know it's TMI, but having a kidney infection really is not helping my sex life in any way, shape, or form. I am not in to pain, especially not bad pain.

Also, on a similar whiny note, what the hell is it with asking people to bring a scrapbook page "with a special memory and 2-3 pictures" as a shower or bridal gift? Okay, 1, I don't take pictures, and, if I do, it's because I'm on vacation alone and I saw something awesome. I can count on one hand the number of pictures I have of my friends, and 2, I seriously do NOT scrapbook. Like, for reals. Knitting, embroidery and cross-stitch, sewing, baking, cooking, painting, oh hell yeah, but scrapbooking? Please god save me. And this is the third one this year.

fuck shit damn.

Oh, whoops, I have a blog!

You know, and it's not even that I've been so remarkably busy lately that I just have not had ten minutes to sit down and blog. It's just that, well, I haven't wanted to.

Then again, I haven't wanted to do much of anything lately, which is somewhat worrisome in and of itself.

Anyway, a few updates from the past month:

1. My sister-in-law, that is, the wife of my younger brother (see also: "That's because you can comprehend the ocean"), is pregnant. Approaching four months. The baby is due in February.
2. I am knitting a baby blanket for the baby.
3. My mom's 50th birthday was last week, and Jay and I flew out. It was awesome.
4. I think my sister-in-law doesn't like me. I think she's bat-shit loony, but not because she doesn't like me - because she's bat-shit loony.
5. Brother and wife did not fly out for my mom's birthday.
6. I went to the doctor on my mom's birthday. I had been feeling "off" for, oh, a week or so, but not enough to do anything about it. I'm sitting on the plane, and thinking to myself "oh my god, something is actually wrong with me, I have pain in my lower abdomen." This pain was complemented later that night by pain in my lower right back area. Diagnosis? A UTI that had spread to my kidneys.

Yes, I had one for at least a week before I realized. What? I've never had one before.

7. Have blamed Jay for the UTI.
8. Reminded Jay repeatedly that I am on serious antibiotics for the next week. Antibiotics.
9. Jay did not have sex with me on Sunday night, and I am sad. Well, not penis-in-vagina sex, anyway, which is really what I wanted. I gave him a handjob the next morning though, which was almost as good.
10. Still feel like crap and still have pain in the kidney area, albeit not as bad - but felt crappy and tired enough to not go in to work (which may also be related to the other general malaise I've been feeling lately). Nearly done with the antibiotics. Might call the doctor tomorrow, but I hate her, so maybe I'll see if there's someone else in the office I can see.

And that concludes the updates from the past month. Oh wait, I should also talk about the bachelorette party I went to. Oh god. What a fucking shitshow.

I have got to get out more

Jay decided on Sunday night that he was sick of not getting any and that whether I liked it or not, something kinky was going down. I let him, because I was kind of getting sick of not getting laid, either.

He puts one of the collars and the leather wrist cuffs on me, and then tells me to get down on all fours on the bed, right up against the footboard. He's got rope out, so I assume that I am to be attached to said footboard in some manner, and I am correct.

The man tied my boobs to the footboard.

This, naturally, broke my head. I mean, don't get me wrong, I bought this bed with the idea that we could tie each other to it - it's a heavy-ass steel or iron or something and there's lots of bars and cross-bars and swirly bits... well, you get the idea. I just didn't expect my boobs to come in to play here.

While my head was broken, Jay got out the crop and practiced his wrist movements for a while, which I did not feel because I was too busy going "so wait, each boob is tied individually to adjacent bars and I cannot move them or myself OH GOD THIS HURTS MY HEAD OH GOD STOP THINKING". Seriously, it was pretty awesome. I had a ridiculously stupid look on my face for at least twenty minutes.

Jay finally untied me (and un-broke my head) when I started shifting around too much it was getting to be an issue. Because my boobs were, you know, attached to the footboard, that meant that my hands were either on top of the board, or supporting weight right in front of me, and eventually my wrists and knees were telling me to fuck off, so I kept moving.

Once he untied me, he proceeded to hook my wrists to the headboard (see? attachment options) and make boob- and pussy-flowers. Unfortunately, the boob-flowers really hurt this time, making me an extremely sad panda. I, was about to cry, and I hate crying.

Meanwhile, Jay had gone to all this trouble, and after the near-crying incident, I was not okay with being awake anymore, and so he wound up coming on my face, which was fine by me because my eyes were closed and I think that if we'd had sex, I would definitely had freaked out, because holy god, pussy-flowers have the amazing side effect of making everything super-sensitive.

We then both got up very late the next morning and bitched all day about being stupid-tired. We are awesome.