Fireworks, beer and philosophy.
I just finished with my punishment for forgetting to put my collar back on after my shower - fifteen minutes of masturbation during which I'm not allowed to orgasm. So I'm sitting here, wet and drippy, the muscles on the inside of my cunt twinging in anticipation of an event that will not happen tonight. I'm sorry, my darling pussy, for not being able to give you what you so desire. I want it too, trust me. It's just that, well, I forgot to put my collar back on. We both know I'm owned, but it's the symbol. I'm sorry, I won't forget again. That's addressed to both you and my cunt. I was a bad girl. I apologize.
I'm heading off to bed though. I've been playing Carmen Sandiego since I got home, he found a mirror site online that has allowed me to play the oldschool versions of the games I loved best as a kid - Oregon Trail, Castle Wolfenstein, Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego... it's enough to make a geek like me squeal. And I did. Repeatedly. Confused the hell out of my daughter though. "Mommy, what's typhoid? Why do you have a broken arm? What's exhaustion? Who just drowned? Do you have to kill the bunnies/squirrels/bears/buffalo/deer? I thought we didn't eat meat."
Tommorrow, I work. 11 to 6. I'm not looking forward to it, but money is money. I can hold out until my job interview Wednesday, then my two weeks go in and I can finally get started a little closer to my career path. Finally.
Then there's the Fourth of July. See, I could really give a shit about the founding of America. I'm an American, yes, but I'm not a patriot. Or a nationalist. I just happen to live here until I get a better offer. Finish school here, get my degree, get a job that allows me to travel more. I want to see the world, I want my daughter to grow up to be a kind, softhearted, well-traveled, intelligent person (instead of the "American" stereotype of bigoted, nationalist and ignorant).
I celebrate this holiday as my independence from all THOSE types of shitheads. I light fireworks off, I drink beer, I hold the hands of loved ones. I celebrate that those I love the most still make me see fireworks and feel butterflies whenever I'm around them. I celebrate that I'm blessed - I have a home, I have enough food in my refrigerator so that I won't starve (sure, it's not good eating and it's lots of pasta but I'm still doing it myself and that's SO important considering where I've been in the last five years), I have a car, I have a job. I have the love of my husband to be (whenever we get the rest of our shit figured out), I have the admiration of my daughter. I'm free to do and be whoever I want. I'm independent, perhaps this year more than ever. That's worth celebrating.
*P.S. - I'm sorry for not writing that story this evening. I had just enough oomph to write this, play a game and finish my punishment. I'll write tomorrow. I'm sorry, sir.*
I'm heading off to bed though. I've been playing Carmen Sandiego since I got home, he found a mirror site online that has allowed me to play the oldschool versions of the games I loved best as a kid - Oregon Trail, Castle Wolfenstein, Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego... it's enough to make a geek like me squeal. And I did. Repeatedly. Confused the hell out of my daughter though. "Mommy, what's typhoid? Why do you have a broken arm? What's exhaustion? Who just drowned? Do you have to kill the bunnies/squirrels/bears/buffalo/deer? I thought we didn't eat meat."
Tommorrow, I work. 11 to 6. I'm not looking forward to it, but money is money. I can hold out until my job interview Wednesday, then my two weeks go in and I can finally get started a little closer to my career path. Finally.
Then there's the Fourth of July. See, I could really give a shit about the founding of America. I'm an American, yes, but I'm not a patriot. Or a nationalist. I just happen to live here until I get a better offer. Finish school here, get my degree, get a job that allows me to travel more. I want to see the world, I want my daughter to grow up to be a kind, softhearted, well-traveled, intelligent person (instead of the "American" stereotype of bigoted, nationalist and ignorant).
I celebrate this holiday as my independence from all THOSE types of shitheads. I light fireworks off, I drink beer, I hold the hands of loved ones. I celebrate that those I love the most still make me see fireworks and feel butterflies whenever I'm around them. I celebrate that I'm blessed - I have a home, I have enough food in my refrigerator so that I won't starve (sure, it's not good eating and it's lots of pasta but I'm still doing it myself and that's SO important considering where I've been in the last five years), I have a car, I have a job. I have the love of my husband to be (whenever we get the rest of our shit figured out), I have the admiration of my daughter. I'm free to do and be whoever I want. I'm independent, perhaps this year more than ever. That's worth celebrating.
*P.S. - I'm sorry for not writing that story this evening. I had just enough oomph to write this, play a game and finish my punishment. I'll write tomorrow. I'm sorry, sir.*
This entry was posted by Mellie, on
Saturday, July 02, 2005.
