My head

it feels like it’s going to split open.

I sent Sir an email yesterday. I spoke with him many times but he had an off line day. 

I’m not letting it go to the back burner. It’s things I need in order to be ok. To not be doubtful.

In the meantime I’m at work, and I just got out of a long, hard meeting and the majority of my coworkers are idiots and I have no idea how they keep their jobs.

Tonight I just want to be……

My mood is sour again. It’s ok, that’s how life is sometimes.

And as far as going to Santa con tomorrow….No one has any interest at all. My mother and I are hardly speaking. 

Also I know you think that would be a great way to lift my spirits, but it’s just a bunch of drunk frat boys in costumes.

I just don’t have the love of the holidays you do…..and that’s ok. I don’t miss a big tree or a large family. It was all fights and problems.

I’m glad you enjoy it.

Remember last year, when I wasnt even going to decorate? I only do it for you, not for me.

It  makes a little sad that you were so happy last night and I’m so grumpy.

A little list…

a deviation from my normal blog.

My wish list.

A smart girl, but not so smart that I want to punch her because she’s a pompous ass.

A creative mind, but not so creative that she gets lost in her fantasy world.

An independent person, but someone that will turn to me for support.

A pretty girl, not a Barbie, not a supermodel, but a normal pretty girl with an expressive face that I can read.

Oh then there’s the kinky stuff…..

Must like some safe and sane pain, because honestly I sometimes just like to twist nipples other than mine.

Must give pain, because I need it to reset my brain.

Must be bi, because the idea of never having a real cock involved … Just isn’t me.

Must love toys. I can honestly say I can come just as hard fucking a girl as getting fucked.

Must be ok that Sir is in my life and I’m his, but he’s ok with sharing and he doesn’t have to be involved, (except for that important permission to cum call), but he will want to know you as a person.

And extra bonus points if he is 😉

Now for the emotions…..

Must absoluty need aftercare. As a switch I need to take care of a girl I am domme to. I’ll let guilt eat at my soul if I don’t. Trust me, I’ve had that happen.

Must absolutley give aftercare. I need to cuddle. I need to feel that other person right there with me.

Above all, must be kind.

I’m enough of a mean girl….but it’s only to protect myself. 

Oh and I’ve discovered….it would just make shit easier if…

English was your first language or at least a language you can speak with ease.

You didn’t want body modifications that I was supposed to do to you.

A really important one, you’re not pregnant.

You don’t do the dip for days than act like nothing happened.

I’m sure this list could go on and on, but I’ll stop there.

Funny I just realized my wish list is much more a grid I use at work in documents!

But here it is, my own personal wish list.

Oh wait, more bonus points….

If you have long dark hair. (See if this was Sirs list it would be red)

Likes to fool around in bathrooms. I don’t know why, but I like it, only if it’s a single one. 

Are willing to build trust and change my opinion that all girls including me are inherently evil. Well, not really evil, just pretty damn mean:)

Truth, it sucks. I like men as much as I like woman. I just seem to not click with many girls and I adore my friends, but I guess I need more.

Odd the very first person from blog world I ever spoke to….. Said “I’m not looking for a girlfriend”, and a year ago I said the same thing. Now a mere year later she’s had one for a while and I’m making this damn list!! Namaste, my friend.

Pain makes it all better

such a typical masochist thing to say… Right 🙂

It’s true, today was the yoga class that can make me physically cry.

It’s only my second one back since surgery and I was able to do all the moves but the teacher sternly told me if she says twice, do it once. If she says 3 breaths hold it two.

I was out for two months or so. Today I cried and at the end of the class I told her what I had done and she said to not push myself, it will take until the new year before she will let me do the whole class.

The best part…..this mean Barbie doll was sitting next to her and she said how happy she was that I came back. Even at 50%, im still her best, most gifted student. I thought that woman  was going to die.

See, girls are mean. Even crazy old Bulgarian yoga teachers! She made my day, gave me pain, made me cry and then gave me the push I needed to know I can do this!!

Afterwards I called Sir and he was happy I sounded my normal self. The blah almost gone.

Time for a long hot bath and a half a glass of wine.

Bitter is the slave…..

I think it’s by far the best word I’ve used to ever describe my feelings.

I can sugar coat it, I do this for the sake of others, I say pretty thing like I’m emotionally drained, sometimes I’m that too, but mostly im filled with bitterness. It feels almost like hunger pain. It burns deep in your belly, like a fire.

Occasionally this bitterness comes flowing out like lava. Mostly at my mother, occasionally to my exhusband. It’s much more due to who’s around, not always who caused my rage.

Too everyone else im cordial, mostly well behaved. Inside im just waiting and biding my time until I get that right moment to let it all go.

I work on controlling it, but in the past week I’ve felt it come back.

I don’t like “oh poor me” type of people. I don’t say “life is so unfair” 

Really why waste my breathe, any grown person will know life is unfair, I don’t need someone to remind me.

I’d like to think one day the bitterness will go away, but I’ve yet to figure out how.

Funny to feel the good, you need to feel the bad to.

I need yoga and a good flogging.

I’ll settle for the yoga.


woke up





Don’t know the reason. So blah I don’t even care about the why.

Nothing at all is interesting or exciting to me. 

That and I’ve been on hold for 20 minutes. I now understand the phrase “going postal”.

And if little R doesn’t stop trying to feed me high calorie, fatty food im going to loose it on her.

My mood is horrible.

Not sure

i have no idea what’s going on with me today.

Walking into work 3 people have managed to annoy me and I don’t even have the energy to be properly pissed at them.

Today I intend to try my best to float through this day.

I did bring my kindle and am going to try to not only take lunch but if little R doesn’t annoy the crap out of me, read a little.

I’m getting better with watching tv. I can manage a full hour with out getting antsy and shutting it off. I think that’s why I tend to pick TV shows rather than movies. 

The past few days I have been watching nymphomanic parts1 and 2. Part one was kind of boring and I treated more as background noise.

I finished part two last night and i wasn’t shocked at all by the ending.

I don’t know that I would recommend that movie to anyone. Lol, in vanilla world, I’d get the how the hell can you watch that and for any kinky friends, it has way, way too many triggery parts.

I think it’s weird and notable that a movie like that (with the exception of one scene that I fast forwarded through) didn’t get to me, but other more mundane shows will.

Time to go work…..

So later

im tired, numb.

I had a couple of thoughts in my head earlier.

One my mother. I’m trying to determine if she’s showing signs of illness or if she is the most self absorbed person in the world. She’s 57, the same age my grandmother started to show the first signs.

She called this morning after being told no less than 5 times this weekend that I was off today and what I was doing.

She called so she could have me order her something from my work computer. 

So is she loosing it or does nothing….and I mean nothing in the world exist except for her?

I really at this point forget what the other thing was…..

Maybe I’ll remember tomorrow.

Crazy Sunday laundry- part 2

so I recall my first run in with a metally Ill drug addict, that was not a family member.

I was little and taking the bus to my nanas with my mother from the ferry. I must have been three or four tops.

The door opens for us to get on and ugh it stunk, I asked her why it smelled and she said sit in the front, don’t talk it’s just “dirty Diana.”

Now dirty Diana and I had these run ins for the next, oh, 15 years. That’s when my mother taught me how I should act when I’m in this situation. There was no mobile psych, no cell phones, lol, you smoked on buses back then. What she told me was…. If you can, don’t get on the bus, wait for the next one. If she gets on mid route, stay near the driver, they can get the cops there and you can get off the bus quick.

Diana ruled the back of the bus. She cursed, screamed, cried and laughed at the same time and she was homeless. She also had an obsession with body fluids, she’s act as a monkey and literally throw crap at people. She was constantly kicked off, arrested…etc

Some how, I guess do to the pharmacology changing, in the late nineties, and some serious mental healthcare reforms in my area, diana got help.

 All of those years terrorized by her, I get a job that puts me in charge of giving her her daily Meds. 

She was a totally different person, sweet, kind and oddly friendly. Too many years on the street had taken its toll on her. She contracted hiv from the dirty needles she used to get high. She was long gone before they got her any help, but for the last few months of her life we chatted daily.

She had a sad story of abuse and illness, But that’s not mine to tell.

She told me towards the end she liked our conversations and one day she would be able to place how she knew me. I never said a word. I never ever told her of the hundreds of times I stood in the cold or heat because she was on the bus and her stench would make me sick or of the times I watched her get arrested. I said “I just have a familiar face”. 

She died less than a year after getting clean. I went to the wake, never telling my mother. There were only about 5 people there. All from where I worked, no friends, no family, not even one of the bus drivers! Sorry, had to say that. 

Sometimes you just get it too late…… Or is it, you get it when your ready? 

The woman today was no Diana, she was clean, cared for….. But something needs to change.

I get there are those that will never get clean, but it seems to me that it gets worse, year after year. This woman looked like a soccer mom. Until her outburst you could have past her on the street. Long gone are the days of the homeless addict. 

Example-Diana wore a tutu and pigtails at the age of 30. This woman had a designer coat on and more cash in her pockets that I do.

So is it the drugs causing the illness, or vise versa. Either way, I’ll make sure to keep an eye out, know that I have a new Diana.

Crazy sunday laundry

today I got the pleasure of meeting the neighborhood mentally ill drug addict. Generally every neighborhood in nyc has at least one. My normal reaction is to observe, make sure they are not posing a true and direct harm to themselves or others and that they are physically ok. If so… I keep it moving.

The problem arises when your disorder clashes with theirs.

Commence laundry story:

I have a routine to both feed and keep my ocd in check when it comes to laundry. I only do linens, towels… All the non clothing when they are all used. I only own enough of each to fill one load of each. I only do a max of three loads at a time, since that’s what I can carry. I got backed up….sir visits and my routine stops, many of them do. 

It’s because new routines start.

So I found myself faced with almost 8 loads of laundry. The last two I was doing this morning.

Sunday is not a day I would normally be in a laundrymat but I had to get it finished. It was me, a middle aged guy, 2 Chinese workers, a mother and her teenage son. It’s a small place crowded with carts and bags of drop offs and you have to do the “excuse me” dance to get anywhere.

My clothes just placed in the dryer. I take a seat to get out of the way right next to the middle aged guy…..the door opens….

“All you mother fucking cocksuckers are going die today”. Me and the guy look at each other and in unison say ” oh fucking great.” Then she starts throwing the carts. At this point I have a choice to make, stay next to the only guy of size in the place (that keeps me in her direct path) or…. Move to the back (trapping me with no exit). So the guy makes the choice by going to check his clothes in the back, I follow.

I check and of course since all things mechanical hate me, one of the dryers is stone cold. Her rant and abuse continues and a game of who’s going to loose their shit starts between the others left up front.

Funny side note….all she was washing was one 2dollar wollen hat that looked pretty much brand new. To add to it, she had to buy detergent and had no change. The curses continued, the throwing of the carts continued all as I trying desperately to get sheets folded to perfection. If I don’t fold them a certain way, they don’t fit in the small area I have for them, so my head is about to split when the mother of the teenager looses it. So a battle erupts and her son drags her out of the laundrymat.

A few more people entered and everyone was on edge. It was a battle of, do we call the cops? Ignore it like normal New Yorkers, so I did what I was trained to do….assess the situation. She was clean, her eyes were normal colored, her skin color was good. After a 45 minute outburst, she started asking the workers how much random things were. A new woman told me she saw her do that to the guys in the coffee shop the other day for 3 hours. At least she wasn’t combative and the other woman had left with her son. My laundry finally done, as I left I gave the number of the mobile emergency psych unit to the lady behind the counter and told her to call if she gets worse again. I had already called and told them of the situation so they were not far away and they knew who I was talking about as they’ve had many run ins with her in the past month.

It reminded me of someone I haven’t   thought of in years.