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Thursday, September 28, 2006 by Mellie

Life has its innate rituals... the way that the seasons always turn at the same time each year, that the gray clouds usually mean rain or snow and that blue skies are absolutely the perfect time for picnics.

In my life, few things are ritualized. I like to keep the spontaneity alive. However, each night that I crawl into bed (warm and naked), I roll onto my stomach. I toss and turn for a bit, mulling over little moments from the day. At some point, either my hand will brush delicate parts or some piece of the bedding will rub me in just the right way and I'm awake.

I can't remember an evening in the last six months that I've gone to sleep pre-orgasm. My head won't let me, my body won't let me... and I've just begun to give in to it. I can't think of many people in my life that haven't made their way into my fantasies. I'm a natural born sex kitten and I learned long ago that my libido can spin out of control if I don't give into it just enough that it feels sated. I walk around with damp pants (which is exactly why I should wear underwear but I just can't bring myself to do it - I don't like the way it feels) most of the day because I get turned on so frequently.

I'm pretty sure that Tom Jones was singing about me.


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Wednesday, September 27, 2006 by Mellie


Generally speaking, in my life I find myself at my most comfortable when there is a healthy level of buffer zone. I have a fiance, who I love very much, but is also very homebound due to his health situation (which, I might add, he has finally decided to take back into his own hands!). I have a girlfriend who is my connection to the outside world - we go to bars, to dinner, to movies, etc. I have a handful of friends who live in the same geographical area as me, I have friends who used to live in the same geographical area as me but have since migrated to other parts of the country and I have friends who I've never met but that I correspond with online.

There are few people in my life that transcend any of those boundaries. Have more of a home life with my girlfriend? That would require letting her into my personal home space. Sleep with any of my current friends? No no no, then I'd have fewer people to go shopping with. Meet any of my online friends in real life? I doubt that any relationship could last past the realization that I'm (or they are) flawed.

It might not shock you to hear that I've been accused of being very compartmentalized. And that's true, I absolutely am. I feel safe that way. I like having the designations on my cellphone - friends, colleagues, family, etc. I'm working on being more open, but I still find it extremely hard to put myself out there in any sort of realistic way. I think that I'm perhaps the most introverted extrovert in history.

An friend(/ex-lover and girlfriend/soulmate/too many categories to name) here once told me that I place too much emphasis on labels. I've shyed away from that consciously, but the draw and appeal is still there for me. And, of course, she's right. She's always right. She's one of the very few people to go above those labels. We've been everything you can possibly imagine, and none of that has ever made me uncomfortable. I just wish I could learn that with the other aspects of my life.


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Sunday, September 24, 2006 by Mellie


Despite this photo, I still find it increasingly difficult to sit still.


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Friday, September 22, 2006 by Mellie

I had the absolute strangest dream last night. I was wearing a white negligee in a very sterile, very cold kitchen. The floor was made of marble and there was no color besides the grays, blacks and white of the tile. I was leaning back on my elbows against a wooden butcher's block island in the middle of the kitchen, my bare feet chilly against the frigid floor. My breasts were obscenely pressed skywards as I waited, patiently.

It was then that he appeared. Dark and handsome, but without a face that I could make out or specifically tie to anyone I know in real life. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as he sauntered towards me, trying to hide my excitement. He produced a small case from one of his pockets, kneeled on the ground and lifted my foot towards him. He planted a small kiss on the top of it and then proceeded to remove a razor from the case and cut the sole of my foot. I don't remember feeling that initial sting, like I would have in real life, but I remember that almost immediately the blood began to drip musically on the marble floor.

My eyes were rolled back in my head as he continued. After cutting the sole of my other foot, he moved up the backs of both of my legs as if cutting the backseam on a pair of pantyhose. Blood pooled on the floor underneath me as I writhed my hips to try to come into more physical contact with the man avoiding all but the more delicate touches of his hand. He was focused. There were cuts on my inner thighs, my hip bones, my stomach, my breasts, my lips... and all I wanted was to feel the kiss of the razor against my skin one more time.

I was beginning to feel weak and woozy from the bloodloss when he began to step out of his clothes, careful not to get any blood onto the impeccable and obviously expensive suit he was wearing. He reached for a shelf under the butcher's block and produced two pints of blood. I had a memory, in my dream, that we had bled me many times before in preparation. He hung the bags onto tiny metal hooks from the ceiling and started one as an IV in my arm.

Licking the blood from the sole of my food to my mouth, he was anything but gentle as he began kissing me passionately. My lips began to sting a bit then, and I could feel his cock against my inner thighs as he lubricated himself with my blood and rammed himself into me. With one hand he held me up, with the other he held onto the island so he could rut me. I couldn't scream or moan because I was so weak, and my eyes couldn't fix on his. I remember feeling sublimely happy listening to the tap-tap-tap of my blood dripping on the floor.

Then I woke up. I have strange dreams sometimes. *laugh*


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Thursday, September 21, 2006 by Mellie

Unfortunately, I haven't had much time to write lately. Work has been hectic, school has kept me running and raising a daughter on my own is, at best, difficult. My thoughts haven't been anything resembling happiness and light, so I haven't really bothered writing at all.

Did have a very interesting offer today, though. Bear's friend was in town and he offered Bear (and our family by proxy) half ownership in a line of coffeeshops he plans on opening either in Houston or Austin, Texas. We'd have to move there, of course, but really I'm kind of scratching my head on it. It would be good money, I'd be able to work in a state that houses some of the most cutting edge veterinary medicine technology out there right now, and hey... free. Essentially. Interesting how life can work itself out sometimes.

But really, I'm just chillin'. Letting life happen and enjoying it about as much as I'm capable of, these days. I'm going to the ballet this weekend, an early birthday present from my father. I'm taking Phedre - it's Dracula so it's right up her adorably gothy alley. That sounds like the beginning of a joke - a pin-up girl and a goth walk into a bar.

I'll write more when I have something less angst-ridden to say. Feel free to drop me a line - either through my email or my Yahoo account.


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Sunday, September 17, 2006 by Mellie

"The way to dissolve our resistance to life is to meet it face to face. When we feel resentment because the room is too hot, we could meet the heat and feel its fieriness and its heaviness. When we feel resentment because the room is too cold, we could meet the cold and feel its iciness and its bite. When we want to complain about the rain, we could feel its wetness instead. When we worry because the wind is shaking our windows, we could meet the wind and hear its sound. Cutting our expectations for a cure is a gift we can give ourselves. There is no cure for hot or cold. They will go on forever. After we have died, the ebb and flow will continue. Like the tides of the sea, like day and night - this is the nature of things. Being able to appreciate, being able to look closely, being able to open our minds - this is the core of maitri."

Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart


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by Mellie

There's not much better than crawling into bed naked with someone you haven't been able to do that with for awhile and just letting nature take its course. It might not be as long or as vigorous as it had been in the past, due to health complications, but I'm feeling much more grounded now. Sex always does that for me.


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Sunday, September 10, 2006 by Mellie


I love A Softer World, thanks to Bear. Monday is not a surgery day at my hospital, but we're performing 4 of them tomorrow anyway. I'm really looking forward to all the hecticness that will ensue due to all that excitement (that's sarcasm, just in case it wasn't dripping off the screen at you.). We have 2 canine ACL repairs, we're mending a skull fracture on a Greyhound and are performing an exploratory surgery on a cat (that looks EXACTLY like mine) that we think may have Feline Infectious Peritonitis. I'm already exhausted, hence the bitter irony of that comic strip. Wouldn't we all like to stick a chair leg through our managers? I'm saddled with one that came straight out of human medicine, which is night and day to what I do. I'd like to do a whole lot more with that chair leg, let me just say. *ahem*

I may be fairly scarce on here this week. I've got 2 exams and my only child turns 5 on Thursday, so I'll be studying, wrapping, headache-ing, baking... you name it. At least this weekend is set out to be fairly stress free.

All is still pretty quiet on the sexual front, as opposed to every other area of my life. My girl and I went out for a nice Italian dinner last night and ended the evening at about 2:30 this morning. We watched Oldboy (highly recommended), which she fell asleep during, and some stupid lesbian romance movie on the Oh network called Kissing Jessica Stein (which is lame).

Bear is still out of commission, although his biofeedback therapist did suggest that we add another person to our collection. Honestly, I'm fed up of bitches (a friend who I thought had disowned me 2 years ago because of my "lifestyle" (yes, that's what she told me) recently called to tell me that she really stopped talking to me because she was afraid that she was having feelings for me - why can't life bring me more actual bisexual chicks and fewer "bi-curious" ones?! Jesus.). I really like this girl, I'll call her Phedre since she's named herself that anyway, and I can't really invest too much more time and attention in romantic relationships. Most girls can't fuck and forget, unfortunately. I'm one of the few, but have only come across one other of my kind. *laugh*

So, I'm still kicking. I'm going to back to studying, now. Plus I need all the patience I can muster to make it through the surgery schedule tomorrow. Wish me luck and steady hands.


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Thursday, September 07, 2006 by Mellie

*warning - philosophical rant ahead. Read at your own risk. If you're looking for kink or cuteness, that will probably be back shortly. I'm not feeling well again and, as such, have a much larger temper and a much shorter fuse. I'm like the cute Irish equivalent of a powder keg that someone is sitting on smoking a cigarette. That said...*

I remember once reading a Keats' quote that said "truth is beauty, beauty truth." I've been reading a few co-bloggers writings about the very nature of truth - painful, obvious truth and the more hidden, easily disguised kind - and have come to some bitter conclusions about truth.

Truth. Wow, what an interesting concept. Truth is simply the state of something "being the case," or being the only possible way that something is. But does that ever happen? Is there ever simply the truth, negating every other possible scenario? I've certainly never encountered anything like that in real life. Textbooks are one thing, studies and experiments may prove time and time again that there is only one truth (think 2 + 2 - does that ever not equal 4?), but in this experiment that we call life? I am completely doubtful that there is ever one truth for any situation.

Let's compare, for a moment, my life and the life of your average Midwestern woman (say, coming out of Walmart; even though I don't shop there and think that it's the devil incarnate, plenty of people around here would live there if they were allowed to.). When faced with any given situation, would we look at it from the exact same "truth"? No. We each have our own intrinsic truths; stemming from how we were raised, what our goals in life are, how we make a living, etc. How could there possibly be one truth when two peoples' outlooks are so varied?

In my eyes, it comes down to this - the truth is a construct of the same reality that has constructed god. We're made to believe that there is an omnipresent man in the sky watching out for us, for sanity's sake (and really, is there any other way to explain the horrors that happen on earth to a mind needing closure?), and we're also lead to believe that there can only be one possible truth for any situation, also for sanity's sake. So much of what we tell ourselves so that we can live out our lives in peace and sanity is ultimately our undoing. How easy it is to view a painful situation as "the truth" and simply let it be the past without scrutiny or evaluation. That doesn't further us, however, there is no growth involved there.

Nothing is, or can ever be, simple truth. It's all in point of view. It's certainly easy to follow through on something your heart may be telling you by disguising it in the veil of "truth". But I've never been the type to take the easy way out.

Truth is not truth, as the dictionary would have you believe. Truth, real truth, Leman's truth, bourgeois truth is that there is no one true truth. There are opinions, there are certainly decisions, but none of them could possibly be based in knowing that there is only one way to behave. There is never one way to behave and I certainly will never let the truth dictate my behavior. I'm much too strong-willed.


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Monday, September 04, 2006 by Mellie

So much of my life right now is dedicated to other people, other things... my fiance, my daughter, my friends, the animals I work with... that when it comes down to being still and alone with myself, I find myself faltering.

I fill that time with other things, less meaningful distractions to take my mind off that frightening stillness. I find solace in random discussions with people I have both a lot and very little in common with. I'm teaching myself Spanish (the first in a series of languages I'm desperate to master before I turn 40 - which is when my daughter will be in college and I'll be able to travel the world like I've always wanted. Anyone want to pay for me to take a vacation?). I throw myself head first into medical book upon medical book, memorizing jargon and terms that will never benefit me in my veterinary medical career. I read books about stillness and contemplation, but I've never really been good at the practice.

But I never really have time alone to speak of. Although my daughter is in bed, my cat is staring up at me from the foot of the computer chair, begging me for attention (and probably food, she has a bit of a weight problem and you'd think that I, of all people, would be attentive to that). I'm talking to people online who demand at least part of my attention. I surround myself with this beautiful white noise to counteract the demons that sometimes scream in my head.

Submission tempers this for me, but there's a decided lack of that in my current life as well. The only time I'm truly alone is when I lock my cat in the bedroom, put my daughter to bed and do yoga. I stop, I calm, I center... but even that fades away within minutes of coming out of that state.

What I want the most right now is to crawl into bed with someone, just so that I'm not alone. I want passion to overwhelm the thoughts. Sometimes I think about you, as I lie in bed, wonder what it would feel like to have my skin pressed against yours in the moonlight. It gets me through and, on the lucky nights, I fall asleep after the orgasm fades.

The funny thing is that you think I'm strong. I'm not nearly as strong as I wish I were, and not nearly as weak as I used to be.


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"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. -- Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

I'm like that, I'm the untaken road. I walk the path that's filled with jagged rocks, spooky trees and no sunlight - but I come out the other side wiser. It's always worth the price.


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