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Sunday, October 29, 2006 by Mellie

It's no secret to those who know me best that I'm a cat person. I prefer the more introverted nature of cats, the way that they allow you to vacation for days at a time without need of walking or attention (and you don't need to worry about them chewing on your furniture to "get back at you" while you're away either). I love how aloof and self-aware they are, yet they prefer to sleep on top of a warm appliance or cuddled up next to you instead of being petted or played with.

My cat is the queen of my world, I've had her for nearly 7 years now and she's my child. She's had a terminal disease for 6 1/2 of her 7 years, but that's always been at the back-burner of her life. She's just Delilah... my overweight, spoiled, pushy little girl. If I had my way, there would be more running around. Unfortunately, due to the illness, I'm unable to adopt again (even if they are also feline leukemia carriers - there's no telling which strain and what the stress would cause the illness to do).

As I was throwing the garbage out this evening, a skinny grey tabby cat greeted me. He followed me back to my apartment where I disappeared inside and produced a bowl of milk (cats are actually lactose intolerant but the poor thing was hungry!) and a cup of food. He ate it gratefully, taking breaks to wind himself around my leg. He mewed, purred, begged for attention. I've named him Coda (Italian for "tail," as his is the entire length of his body plus some). It looks like he's going to be our unofficial outside cat. I'm positive he has an owner somewhere - he's very socialized (and he loved my daughter) - but I'm more than happy to have another fur baby in my life.


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Tuesday, October 24, 2006 by Mellie

I was sorting through some old files before defragmenting my computer and came upon this, from a blog that Bear and I used to co-author a few years ago when we were still living in sin (as opposed to fucking in sin, which is what we do now since we aren't married and we don't live together *laugh*). I may have mentioned it here before, it was called Sexual Anarchism and was the reason I got up in the morning most days. I was adorably naive and, obviously, Bear and I were much more involved in a D/s relationship than we are these days (not to say that we're not involved - just that it's much more intrinsically understood and less requiring a statement of intent).

Anyhow, he wrote these two lovely entries and I just had to share them. Have I ever mentioned just how much writers turn me on (and, you know, my writer in specific)?

And one other thing.

There is nothing better than feeling her come down from sub space when she's pressed against me, shivering slightly, in the moments just before we go to sleep.

There is nothing better than feeling her breath on my chest as she rests her head on my shoulder.

There is nothing better than drifting off to sleep like this, knowing that this moment will occur again and again, that this is something which is ours, that we are both at our most
vulnerable at this time, that we have both given a profound gift to the other in the moments which preceded this one, and will continue to give of ourselves in the moments that follow.

But that one moment ... that small little wriggle as she nestles closer ... it's the best thing I can imagine.

Decisions.

We had been reading for a while. I'm a huge Jonathan Carroll fan and was trying to finish "White Apples." She was working on her biography of Emma Goldman. This is our idea of light bedtime reading.

I forget exactly how it started. I know I had read her post from yesterday and apologized for how my come tastes at the moment; I'm on some medication and can't do much about it. It will get back to normal as time passes, but that doesn't make things easier for her at the moment.

She started laughing.
"That is the least subtle way anyone has ever asked me for head," she said.

I clarified my point - I wasn't asking for nor demanding it. I was expressing regret and letting her off the hook.

We talked for a few moments about this concept ... and then she slid beneath the covers and took me in her mouth, effectively taking the decision out of my hands. While that may seem like poor behavior on the part of a submissive, I hadn't told her not to give me head; I had merely said I wasn't requiring it of her.
After I came in her mouth and she had finished licking her lips clean, we started kissing - innocently enough at first, but it didn't take long before I had pulled her on top of me and she was rubbing against my still-hard cock.

I believe she explained that she's decided not to have sex while she's on her period; her reasons are her own, but I respect them and don't push. Some limits are meant to be played with; others are meant to be left alone. Yet as we were kissing, as I was tasting my come in her mouth, as she was grinding against me, I slowly began pulling her briefs down. I stopped after no more than an inch and resumed kissing and caressing her.

Time passed. Lips were kissed. My hands eventually found their way back to her waist and hips. And her briefs eventually found their way to the floor.

And her response to all this was simple.

"I love it when you make decisions for me."
I slid in on her blood and she began grinding against me, whimpering softly, only stopping her soft cries to ask for permission to come, which I gladly gave. After all, she had been a wonderful submissive that evening and deserved a reward.

And so she came, pulling me closer, gasping in my ear and kissing me.

For her second orgasm, I grabbed the back of her neck with my left hand and wrapped my right arm around her, pulling her down onto my cock as I thrust into her tight, wet cunt. It didn't take nearly as long for her to have her second orgasm as it did for her first.

And then she told me that she didn't think she could come again.
This, of course, is nonsense.

I used my hands and arms to immobilize her on my chest and proceeded to thrust into her as hard as I could, to split her open and pound her cunt. In even less time than it took for her second, she was asking permission to come again.

And I gave it gladly. However, she still wasn't satisfied.

She wanted come in her cunt.

And that's how I found myself behind her, looking down, telling her to get her ass in the air as I stroked my cock, masturbating until I was close enough to orgasm to slide inside her and spill myself into her.

We wrapped ourselves around each other and kissed more after that, covered in blood, sweat and come. Then we went to sleep. It was a truly glorious evening.

And, purely for the record, I love making decisions for her when she's been such a good girl.


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Monday, October 23, 2006 by Mellie



It's the type of weather that makes my hands crave to be wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Each day seems to get increasingly more gray and each cloud in the sky makes me unconsciously glance upward in hopes of catching the first snowflake of the season on my tongue.

This middleland between fall and winter is one of my favorite times of year - the leaves are still turning colors on the trees but are also available for fits of childish stomping underfoot (I often catch myself twirling like a pre-pubescent ballerina, laughing recklessly at each leaf snapping beneath me.), the smell of a freshly activated furnace permeates the vanilla caramel scent of my new favorite Yankee Candle tart, my cheeks and the tip of my nose take a few moments to return from their rosy state after coming indoors.

I love transitional states. Change still scares me, but pressing through the fear and into the unknown has always filled me with a sense of control. I might be terrified, but at least I have the reins and the ability to guide my life down the path I believe is right. This time of year used to make me feel claustrophobic, trapped internally as well as not as capable to get out physically, but a bright woman once told me that it's wise to be still and uncomfortable instead of acting from a desperate place.

So, right now I'm sitting cross-legged on my computer chair, wrapped in my new favorite pink scarf, a chenille throw, a warm pair of socks and some very adorable underwear. I'm drinking a mug of hot chocolate and I'm going to bed early to read a few more chapters of the Jeanette Winterson book I just picked up at the library. Life couldn't be any more wonderful than it is at this moment - even with no one else around, I feel whole and complete.


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Thursday, October 19, 2006 by Mellie

I wish I could somehow competently describe what it feels like to be lost in one's own head. There are days when I can actively dissipate any deep emotional thoughts, anything that may be painful or uneasy, and focus instead on the vapid, more surface details of the moment. I'm so good at repression, I might as well put my resume in to be a trash compactor.

Other times, no matter what I'm doing and how hard I'm trying to ignore it, those hard to swallow thoughts come bubbling up from some hidden fountain of deeper logic and reason. I could choose to push them back down, press them as far inward as possible... but that's beginning to be the easy way to handle things. I've always been a fighter and this, now, is starting to look like a challenge worth taking.

I doubt I'll go into much detail here, at least for the time being. Despite all my obvious open tendencies, I get the feeling that this is something that needs to be kept sacred. Those of you who are important to me or insatiably curious know, but I'm choosing to keep it in that small circle of confidants for the moment. I'm fine, my family is fine... so no worries there. Life has just gotten a little less comfortable for me, at the moment, and I'm trying to sort through all of that.


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Tuesday, October 10, 2006 by Mellie

I just finished watching a movie called Green Street Hooligans, which started my recently creaky brain into motion. The movie is about soccer (or football, for non-Americans) hooliganism. Ignoring that it's about people in England and relating to a sport, that could have been my teenage years. I was a very violent youth; always picking fights with people and shooting my mouth off. I ran with a more rebellious crowd (CMS, mainly. And no, I won't go into what that stands for.) and was just generally a very disaffected youth.

Right now, all I want to do is put my fist through something or someone. It wasn't the movie, at least, not directly. It's that I'm filled with so much rage and unrest lately and no good outlets for it. I go to the gym a lot, sweat out a lot of it, but I'm still stuck with this overwhelming pit of my stomach feeling. It's the feeling you get before a good fight, the feeling when you know something is about to go down and you can't speed it up or slow it down.

I feel like this every fall; one last burst of energy before I hibernate for the winter. I'm capable of so much repression of emotion, so I enjoy being able to feel something before I'm forced to turn it off and batton down the hatches. It reminds me that I am indeed human, no matter how much I pretend not to care or get involved. As much as it pains me to admit that, I care. And I fucking hate caring.


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Sunday, October 08, 2006 by Mellie

I have had a lovely and exhausting weekend, which was exactly what I needed. Capping off a 50 hour work week, I took my two favorite girls to my birthday party at my mom's house. My mom always knows just what to buy me and this year was no exception. I'm rocking a new teal blue bracelet that proclaims my "rebel" status, a pin-up girl calender and a book of the 1,000 places I need to see before I die. I don't know which one I'm more excited about, to be honest. Phedre got along just wonderfully with the fam; they invited her back for the holidays. Now all I need to do is come out of the closet. *laugh*

Afterwards, my daughter and I were her guests at a bellydancing performance at a local art gallery I didn't even know about (I fell in love with a print from a local artist - if only I had $6000 to blow!). She looked just amazing up there; the entire crowd couldn't stop talking about her. I was smiling to myself listening to them, knowing that she was leaving with me. I'm a very lucky girl. We went for ice cream with her family after that and my poor daughter didn't get into bed until after 10.

Today a friend and I took our daughters to an orchard about an hour away. We picked and ate apples off the tree, drank some fresh apple cider, they got to ride horses and play and I came home sufficiently exhausted and sunburned (shocker, right? I'm so pale I'm almost translucent; the sun could probably burn me through a window).

Bear and I have been fighting lately, but I'm choosing not to air that grievance here. I'm too hurt and emotional by his lack of communication that anything I say will come out bitter, sarcastic and possibly spiteful. Let's just leave it at this... I know how I want (and deserve) to be treated and he's not acting the part.

Hope everyone is well. :)


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Wednesday, October 04, 2006 by Mellie

Happy Birthday to me! Feel free to send naked birthday wishes to me!


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Sunday, October 01, 2006 by Mellie

I'm an hour and a half into my Yom Kippur fast and I've already had to answer a lot of questions. No, I'm not Jewish. I don't even believe in God. Do I think it's insulting to use a religious philosophy if I don't believe in God? Absolutely not. It is our ability and right as human beings to pick and choose what we believe in, and everything that the fast stands for (besides the repentance to God) appeals to me.

I fast (and I have for the last 10 years) because I really relate to the idea of atoning for all the sins of the past year. While I'm not a religious person, I am very spiritual. I believe in living my life the absolute best that I can, and I consider myself a soulful person. I take these 25 hours as a time to reflect on everything I've done for the past year, what I've learned and what I'd like to do differently. I dedicate myself to another year of living my best life and deciding where I'd like to go with the next 364 days. While Rosh Hashanah is officially the Jewish New Year, Yom Kippur is my New Year. Everything is fresh now, I'm free of any doubt and guilt from the previous year and ready to move forward.

For anyone who is wondering, my ex-husband was Jewish. He started me fasting, which I did for family reasons (You try to please a Jewish mother in law, I dare you!) and have taken a more personal view on it in the last 4 years or so.

I wish you all a very happy Aine new year. May your next year be filled with love, joy, child-like laughter and happiness. I hope mine will.


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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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