tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-129849152024-03-21T07:14:17.907-07:00Decorus poena.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comBlogger338125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-73601846712936809782008-09-29T12:46:00.001-07:002008-09-29T12:46:59.907-07:00I love beginnings. I exist for possibility; the amazing spark that puts a gleam in your eye before the reality of the situation sets in.<br /><br />If my entire life could be beginnings, I can't even tell you how blessed I would feel. I get butterflies, near-nausea inducing butterflies. I sit on my couch, indian-style (or criss-cross-applesauce as my daughter calls it) with a notebook and pen, mapping out my future and all the positives yet to come. I daydream while sipping my coffee. I read books and find myself in them. The entire world exists for me and me alone... and I feel no self-consciousness admitting that.<br /><br />I'm often accused of truly thinking the world revolves around me. People misunderstand me on a regular basis - I sometimes come off as pushy, as self-centered, as someone who doesn't take no for an answer. That may be true, in some cases, but often I'm able to step back and look at the whole picture before acting. I am a selfish creature or, at least, I can be. But I don't act based wholly on what I want and forsake other people's emotions. I always take everyone else into account and often put them ahead of me.<br /><br />But beginnings are lovely. They're just there; they care for everyone equally and the eve of possibility shines just as brightly on all involved.<br /><br />And I feel like I'm shining today.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-71415396672627402212008-09-25T19:37:00.001-07:002008-09-25T19:39:34.240-07:00I just edited and updated my 100 things about me section. It was fulfilling.<br /><br />I'd like everyone to get to know me, Mellie, not Aine.<br /><br />Aine was lovely, yes. She was nice to write through, as a medium, as she was absolutely me.<br /><br />She just wasn't all of me. I held back, I wrote what I thought people wanted to hear and didn't write about the entirety of my complex and sometimes very mundane persona.<br /><br />So I'm Mellie. Nice to meet you.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-42379871301109324862008-09-25T14:38:00.000-07:002008-09-25T14:39:46.698-07:00I originally wrote and posted this today over at Irrational Beauty, the new place I had been writing, when it occured to me that this is home. This has always been home. I can't just quit on something and move sites because I need a change. I AM that change. No matter where I go and where I write, I'm still me. This place is my history and my future; I'm not ready to walk away from that...<br /><br />---<br /><br />June. Wow.<br /><br />I'm actually pretty amazed I've stayed away so long.<br /><br />Of course, I've been writing. If you knew me at all, you'd realize how silly the thought of me not writing is. Writing simply is INSIDE me, writing is who I am at my most base level. Creative, expressive, unafraid of opening up and spilling my guts onto the page... without the ability to write I would probably die.<br /><br />I know that sounds trite, but I honestly believe that.<br /><br />I've felt it lately.<br /><br />I got into a car accident last night. It wasn't much, although I did have to go to the hospital for neck pain. It did manage to terrify me into re-evaluating a few things about my life lately. Funny how cliche it is to assume your life will flash before your eyes, but how true it ends up being in the end.<br /><br />But I'm ok. I'm on some seriously great medication that made me both sleep like a baby and have some pretty intense dreams. I even managed to pleasure myself this afternoon without throwing things TOO out of whack. I'm dedicated that way.<br /><br />But it did make me realize that I need to write more. Especially when my creative outlets have mostly come from Myspace. It's the armpit of the creative world, but I've felt more safe keeping some things to myself lately. Don't ask me why; it's unlike me to be so closed-off.<br /><br />So, I'm back. Don't know for how long, or what will come out, but I'm here.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-85020527303090650802007-11-01T07:05:00.000-07:002007-11-01T07:07:09.832-07:00I've been writing somewhere else. I'm a creative harlot. I believe I have outgrown the usefulness of a blog that started as a sexual entity, even though I'm aware it doesn't need to continue to be that.<br /><br />I'm so much more - I'm funny, sarcastic, witty, etc. I don't want to be put into the box of a sex writer and I'm just not that girl anymore.<br /><br />Email me at ainegirl@gmail.com if you want the new address. Please don't be offended if I don't give it to you - it contains a lot of personal information that I don't necessarily want random people to have.<br /><br />It's been a pleasure writing for you.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-55289687292277727282007-10-14T00:44:00.000-07:002007-10-14T00:51:43.158-07:00Sleep eluding me, I slipped out of bed. I tried not to wake Bear, as sleep tends to be difficult for him these days as well.<br /><br />I just wanted to put this in writing, then I'm going to toss and turn for a few more hours until dawn breaks...<br /><br />It's been so long since we last spoke that I can hardly remember the conversation. You often do this to me, this disappearing offline for months at a time. I've tried to convince myself that we have no connection, that our momentary friendship was what is was and now you have no need for it. But the truth is, I miss you. I miss the witty banter, the raw discussions about emotionally difficult subjects. I miss the you I may have conjured up in my head; in fact, that seems depressingly likely these days.<br /><br />Anyway, I just felt like it needed to be put into the world. For better or for worse - at least I feel better.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-51318669043402325482007-10-11T21:33:00.000-07:002007-10-11T21:35:28.387-07:00A little creative writing...It's been awhile, but I'm so used to writing fiction from the submissive point of view that I thought I'd switch it up a bit and write from the female dominant point of view (Yes, I do have a large amount of that in me even though I don't talk about it much). It's just a small portion and is, in fact, all I have finished so far...<br /><br /> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->As I sat in the corner of the room, pondering my next move, I could almost feel your heartbeat in the air. A palpable sound (thump-thump thump-thump), it pulsed around me and jolted me back into the present moment and away from my thoughts. <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->I allowed my eyes to stray to your form, standing on tiptoes in the middle of the room, your arms straight above you and your back arched in an almost vulgar manner. The soft rubbing noise of the rope twisting and straining against your weight was soothing to me. My creative juices flowing, I pressed off against the chair and stalked toward you on black stiletto heels. <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->I could see your skin jump and flinch with every click of heel against hardwood floor. I walked slowly, then quickly, circling you like a caged tiger as your ears struggled to make sense of what your blindfolded eyes were unable to tell you. I could feel the panic rising again in you, your terror mixed with the scent of arousal on the air. It was a heady smell, a smell that set off a galaxy of reaction inside me.<span style="font-size:100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >I took a deep breath, my nostrils flaring as I attempted to intake as much of your musk as possible. My body came to rest inches from your back; I slowly slid my mouth towards your bare shoulder making as little noise as I could. I stood that way for a minute or so, my breath pressing against your shoulder as I listened to your tiny panting breaths rise and fall. I contemplated how to break this silence, my breath slowing to an almost sleeping rhythm. I needed it to be a stunning gesture, a motion that would foreshadow the rest of the evening. Flipping through the rolodex in my head, I decided quickly.</span>Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-43672887942244949102007-10-10T20:20:00.001-07:002007-10-10T20:25:15.658-07:00There are times when, simply put, I'm antagonistic. My Libran nature pushes me to argue and revolt against everything, no matter how much I believe in what's being said.<br /><br />That's how I've felt lately, especially about writing. You say black, I say white. You say cat, I say dog. And I mean white and dog. I just haven't felt like writing about much because I'm not feeling "in the mood" for much. I'm taking little pleasure in the day to day living and focusing too much on the future.<br /><br />Who knows if there is a future? Certainly not me. Which means, logically, I should quit dwelling in it, suck it the fuck up and live.<br /><br />Easier said than done.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-35705893598712978052007-10-06T10:37:00.001-07:002007-10-06T10:48:31.979-07:00Here I am, neglecting this blog and not giving it a second thought, when I decided to stumble back and check my comments.<br /><br />Big mistake.<br /><br />Darling Jill, as much as I love her to tiny bite-sized pieces, can deliver such a kick to the head it isn't even funny. Even with back problems.<br /><br />Yes, I'm a pussy. Apparently. Change does freak me out sometimes and I have the urge (that I usually act on) to just throw everything up into the air to see where it lands. Small change doesn't sit well with me - I push on through large change and start completely new. Having people watch my process makes me uncomfortable, and I already have a tendency to run instead of explain.<br /><br />But I started this blog years ago as an outlet. Yes, the subjects I currently need to vent about have changed dramatically, but there are still "things." Am I going to give up on writing here and start worrying about what people will thing of my changes? No. I'm stronger than that. Bless you and fuck you for reminding me of that, Jill. *grin*Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-91533384485082713562007-09-16T19:57:00.000-07:002007-09-16T20:04:15.944-07:00Life is often a serious of temporary adjustments. We shovel out this rut, wallow in it day after day, only to have it fill with water and force us to start again.<br /><br />I have a choice to make. Spoken or unspoken, dominance and submission is an intrinsic part of my life. It simply is who I am, in many ways. With Bear's back, my role as his submissive (if that's truly what I want) is being forced to change.<br /><br />In short, I need to be willing and able to submit without force. I have to want it and what I need to figure out is how badly that's true in my life.<br /><br />My writing here must conform. My life isn't how it was 2 years ago, nor would I want it to be. My mind, my thoughts, my reality... all different.<br /><br />I'm not sure why that disturbs me so much. Maybe it's feeling left out of a larger community or maybe it's that incredibly non-inspired thing called nostalgia. What I do know is that I miss you but I'm not sure if I'm what you want anymore. And I'm sorry for that.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-90948458425590684082007-09-07T22:01:00.001-07:002007-09-07T23:05:28.969-07:00I've watched the cursor doing its hypnotic dance on the northern side of monitor for nearly half an hour now. It appears and disappears, reminding me that my frontal lobe has all but been turned off for the past few weeks.<br /><br />I've been a machine of studying, working and fulfilling my very basic needs in the quickest way possible. I've had little time for creativity, introspective thought or pleasure seeking of even the most mundane variety.<br /><br />Things are settling down a bit and I intend to begin writing more here in my freedom instead of wasting my talents on that goddamn Myspace.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-24227186699559639922007-08-19T14:49:00.001-07:002007-08-19T15:10:22.210-07:00My nature is overtly sexual. I am constantly on the prowl like a tigress, exuding sexuality from my pores. Even when I'm obviously not feeling "in the mood," my pheromones betray me and attract people to me regardless of what I'm wearing or how I'm feeling.<br /><br />Last night was no exception.<br /><br />It was my girlfriend's birthday and we met at one of my favorite hole in the wall bars in downtown. I agreed to go because a high school acquaintance bartends there, which means not only quick service but also mostly cheap to free drinks. Her friends were all there, people I had never met and continue to have no desire to see ever again. While I'm a social creature, I find conversing with groups of people I have little to nothing in common with tedious and annoying.<br /><br />I found nothing different about last night. After seducing my pear martini, I began to talk to the man sitting on my right. He looked familiar to me, but I couldn't place where I knew him from. He seemed shy, quiet and introverted and, after his second Miller Lite, told me he had recently started working at the Humane Society. He was only out of the Army a few months and was having trouble readjusting to world outside of death and total control.<br /><br />We talked about his experiences and my own as an Army wife. I found him rather adorable and naive for an ex-soldier of 23. He bought my drinks and stared at my chest, which I consider a common courtesy.<br /><br />Later that evening, we ended up at the gay bar (as usual). My ex-girlfriend met me there, recently out of Airborne training and excited to catch up. We have a very volatile relationship, there are a lot of loose-ends and rampant feelings (which makes me uncomfortable), but we sat and talked. There were a few awkward pauses and brushes of hands on legs, necks and hair, but by the time my current girlfriend got there all was well.<br /><br />We all danced in the cage, my skirt hiked up well past my knees while grinding myself between two beautiful women on full display. The soldier joined the game and, while I must admit that his extremely rock hard chest was unbelievably sexy, was promptly kicked out of the cage. He sat on the sidelines and watched, I suppose, but there was to be absolutely no touching. I like being watched, so it worked out well. I like having my drinks bought for me even more and he was very quick to provide for me in that capacity, a trumped up cabana boy.<br /><br />I ended the night on a high note, my girlfriend whispering she loved me into my ear (although she was drunk and I mainly just blew it off - I'm not one for emotions or emotional conversation) and headed home high on endorphins. All in all, it was a lovely evening.<br /><br />I hope to do it again soon.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-87454188419189505502007-08-12T21:17:00.001-07:002007-08-12T21:17:37.868-07:00I have this rather backwards tendency of both thinking too highly of myself while also maintaining a fairly persistent state of low self-esteem. I tend to think of this as "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">faux</span>" esteem - I talk myself up pretty good but, when it really comes down to it, I may act certain ways but don't necessarily believe them myself.<br /><br />One of my favorite facets of myself, however, is my ability to be a muse. I tend to force creative juices from people, both literally and figuratively.<br /><br />Last night, I was extremely proud of myself. You see, it's been months since Bear and I have had any sort of satisfying intercourse.<br /><br />But listening to him growl as he bit into my flesh, feeling how hard and solid he was as he slammed into me from behind... and knowing my acceptance of who and what he is has led to how comfortable we both can be is astounding.<br /><br />It's the best drug there is.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-30780224895985170852007-07-29T23:01:00.000-07:002007-07-29T23:12:33.885-07:00Living with someone can be a buzzkill. That romance, the initial spark of intimacy and attraction, is often lost in the day to day living. There's nothing romantic about going to the bathroom, arguing about finances and making shopping lists.<br /><br />In many ways, my darker side has been hidden under layer upon layer of mundane life. I wake up, clean, cook, parent, sleep, work... you know the drill. I'm so concerned with taking care of Bear after surgery that I see him less and less like a sex object and more and more like a dependent. He's not, not really, but I can't help that I can sometimes have a strong maternal drive that kicks in at inopportune times.<br /><br />Much like Stella, I'm working on getting my groove back. I need to flip that switch in my head that takes Bear from ouchie backed man to my big strong male again.<br /><br />Now if I could only find that switch.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-25479943686058535662007-07-25T05:47:00.000-07:002007-07-25T05:48:19.127-07:00The "blahs."I've been so consumed by triviality that I didn't notice the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">undefinable</span> "fun part" of my life had slid slowly out of focus. I've been working, cleaning, parenting, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">relationshipping</span> (yeah, I know it's not a word. Blow me.) for probably a month now without really enjoying myself.<br />I need to work on that.<br /><br />Life is short and beautiful. There's not enough time to be boring and preoccupied.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-22067922331514201822007-07-17T07:36:00.000-07:002007-07-17T07:49:38.663-07:00Tentatively back.Typically, springtime is my time of renewal. I'm very driven by seasonal change, as though my DNA is in tune with those things that my ancestors remembered and modern people tend to forget.<br /><br />Due to issues entirely out of my control, I've been thrust into "fight or flight" territory. My only choice is to sink or swim. I can dwell in my misery and pull against the reins or I can thrust myself headfirst into the wind and go where it takes me.<br /><br />Bear and I are well. After some momentary arguing about some ingrained issues (that tend to reoccur spontaneously), we're on the road back to discovering the fire that brought us together in the first place. Keeping the romance alive, so to speak, becomes difficult after a tumultuous year and a half in which the physical and emotional caretaker roles switched hands entirely. Re energizing patience, finding our way back to physical intimacy... much easier said than done.<br /><br />I'll be writing more here. I'm almost done with school for the semester and ready to rock and roll, baby.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-56916577120670937642007-07-01T08:25:00.001-07:002007-07-01T08:55:52.627-07:00Missing her...I can't decide if I feel like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRrBBHc7ImFCEv4xPz4-WFfkJ8RH27e25adeH6oPtM6dAMEK0FEgM8sWkduPin-6xtRu09jXdcd_6KNltu7MxMUv1Js9VLeLmcmalIx6MXA8SO4xhQbc3SvWL15UAxIg0Axfoi/s1600-h/20070621-Poupou.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRrBBHc7ImFCEv4xPz4-WFfkJ8RH27e25adeH6oPtM6dAMEK0FEgM8sWkduPin-6xtRu09jXdcd_6KNltu7MxMUv1Js9VLeLmcmalIx6MXA8SO4xhQbc3SvWL15UAxIg0Axfoi/s400/20070621-Poupou.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082250011509323618" border="0" /></a><br />Or like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-zVjywX_D32Q1cUoTFtZwygREg5QDp-1NxL7Yvt1iPSWJ4UP6-B2jfMjr1mm1ejFXhixtXTJz_JjUfCwMZbn13u_6jWG7tjoR1OIczOpKRBEKsmmbFyaP3BhXMyC6o31JdmH/s1600-h/20070618-Juan+Carlos.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-zVjywX_D32Q1cUoTFtZwygREg5QDp-1NxL7Yvt1iPSWJ4UP6-B2jfMjr1mm1ejFXhixtXTJz_JjUfCwMZbn13u_6jWG7tjoR1OIczOpKRBEKsmmbFyaP3BhXMyC6o31JdmH/s400/20070618-Juan+Carlos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082250144653309810" border="0" /></a><br />I had to euthanize my cat on Friday. While I'm positive I made the right decision, especially taking into account her declining heath and quality of life, that doesn't make it any easier. I still listen for the sound of her tiny paws scratching at the carpet to mark her territory. I miss the way she had absolutely no regard for anyone - she'd sit at the end of the bed precisely where the TV was just so no one would see around her and she'd be able to soak up all our attention.<br /><br />While there are kittens in the future, a house without animals is no house I would ever want to live in, I'm just way too devastated to even think about the possibility. She was my baby, my only child for 2 years before having my daughter, and I'll miss her more than I could ever express.<br /><br />Life is ugly and meaningless sometimes. Goodbye, my beautiful friend.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqZM9Ou9As6u8GSWSwua-fEJizz1OjK6tZ9-nnUVQzjWTAkuQ1R0GcJJO_Ajvse4Hd_kKLUNsjdk_qPy-JVyJSbEjO-mfSkkLL_t-sqYKFRG-uSfJxW432qQj2-yNWYCKgR46/s1600-h/IMG_0168.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqZM9Ou9As6u8GSWSwua-fEJizz1OjK6tZ9-nnUVQzjWTAkuQ1R0GcJJO_Ajvse4Hd_kKLUNsjdk_qPy-JVyJSbEjO-mfSkkLL_t-sqYKFRG-uSfJxW432qQj2-yNWYCKgR46/s400/IMG_0168.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082256578514319234" border="0" /></a><br />I love you.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUle0aufn5jPVe4Ng3vbTwuTR5TaCfQ3tlb7ixtiVNg1bUHj4AN71B4vFTURtmPdUGL5Ts17XvbnBc1PrTT1gXXsA8kiSTOD3ah6iPt0587e5BiDQvPHAYGNbOjA_s4fj4YDcf/s1600-h/DelilahSun1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUle0aufn5jPVe4Ng3vbTwuTR5TaCfQ3tlb7ixtiVNg1bUHj4AN71B4vFTURtmPdUGL5Ts17XvbnBc1PrTT1gXXsA8kiSTOD3ah6iPt0587e5BiDQvPHAYGNbOjA_s4fj4YDcf/s400/DelilahSun1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082257647961175954" border="0" /></a>Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-76233804226849888872007-06-28T13:15:00.000-07:002007-06-28T13:34:55.244-07:00Lately, the only time I can shut my brain off from all the ugly thoughts is when I'm running. So, needless to say, I've been running a lot. The gym is a home away from home, a place I can go to get away and emerge myself in an acceptable sort of pain.<br /><br />Putting on those headphones, blaring something loud and aggressive (it's been earlier Dropkick Murphys or Busdriver the past week or so) and just losing myself in the beats and pushing my body a little bit further than it's willing to go each time helps drown out everything that seems to be going wrong lately.<br /><br />Things are good here, don't get me wrong. It seems as though the older I get the more jaded I become. Finding the happiness and light in things is taking a backseat to my intrinsic need for violence and aggression. I try to temper each, to find a balance, but it still eludes me for the time being.<br /><br />I just haven't learned to live with it yet.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-63273675532072818392007-06-20T15:19:00.000-07:002007-06-20T15:20:59.950-07:00To tide you over...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjZbaxgcVFS1Dcuw50indtUBNJNQBVWQ0UyL2G_uwVTmh5DzH5u-HASOjUbsxb023oTHMPO4cDb5zpdIV_1ZjOpkchzsl3uhfNmzY1WxyrPMum1NwQXftTUsDShbx8xazKwRV/s1600-h/pickup_lines.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjZbaxgcVFS1Dcuw50indtUBNJNQBVWQ0UyL2G_uwVTmh5DzH5u-HASOjUbsxb023oTHMPO4cDb5zpdIV_1ZjOpkchzsl3uhfNmzY1WxyrPMum1NwQXftTUsDShbx8xazKwRV/s400/pickup_lines.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078274894951865634" border="0" /></a><br />Courtesy of <a href="http://xkcd.com">xkcd.com</a>Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-72457552848716037172007-06-04T15:24:00.000-07:002007-06-11T17:50:53.832-07:00I'm not ignoring you, lovelies. I'm dealing with the imminent death of my dear sweet kitty cat. She's had a terminal illness since birth, so I'm thankful for the 7 years I was able to spend with her past her "life expectancy." It's just that one is never truly prepared and I'm no exception.<br /><br />I've devastated. I'm trying to pull and hold it together but every time I sit down to write my mind draws a blank.<br /><br />I'll be back as soon as this dark cloud lifts itself from my head.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-38020473138757258072007-05-24T19:50:00.000-07:002007-05-24T20:03:58.296-07:00If I was a better writer, I could describe the way watching each individual leaf on the huge buckeye tree outside my practice makes me feel. There is a primal nature to it; one that makes me want to immediately rip my clothes off and go tearing through the front doors and out into the wind.<br /><br />I've spent the majority of my life pretending to be like other people; pretending not to feel things as deeply and intensely as I do. It's difficult to ignore and not get caught up in the small moments of life instead of "keeping my nose to the grindstone" and practicing the mundane and menial like the rest of the population seems to be doing.<br /><br />I'm not built like that. I feel, with heightened senses, which is why I sometimes come off as cold and hard. I build up those walls so that people don't understand how easy my heart is to capture and break. Very few people have seen into the courtyard beyond those walls. I'm fine with that.<br /><br />But now you know my secret. This is why meaningless connection, the wide expanse of the internet and random sexual encounters, have been such a huge part of my life. I relish them - they keep me from attaching and getting hurt. The more I can fuck and run, cut and run... well, the better off I am.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-16401357134328206052007-05-23T20:00:00.000-07:002007-05-23T20:02:37.629-07:00I was driving home from a very lovely dinner with coworkers this evening when I had one of those moments. It was brought on by nothing in particular; merely the wind on my face and the music from the speakers. I listened to the words, really listened, and felt the breeze blowing my hair.<br /><br />I felt perfect at the moment. Whole. Beautiful.<br /><br />It was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unexplainable</span> really. I hope to have that again soon.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-45566012780941879452007-05-18T20:58:00.000-07:002007-05-18T21:05:48.510-07:00To be honest, I haven't been writing much at all lately. I've been thinking. My mind has been a swirling vortex - creating, destroying, piecing together and tearing apart.<br /><br />Due to a series of events beyond my control, I've been pushed beyond my usual thresholds for pain and suffering (the pain kind, not the type I enjoy) and have probably been a horrendous nightmare for those close to me.<br /><br />After tomorrow, relief comes. The insanity that is my work schedule begins to right itself and we start the downward bike ride into a new (partly) job and more days off.<br /><br />But I understand what is important to me. I understand, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that without time to myself and the ability to pamper and pleasure (in the most naive sense of the word, although not always so) both my internal and external bodies I will go out of my mind.<br /><br />I've also been having a lot of vivid dreams that I don't remember after awaking lately. Strange dreams. Some sexual in nature (I've had sex with both my coworker and a friend who blogs - though on hiatus lately - in the past few days), others more spiritual (I've begun a daily gratitude list to remember to appreciate the little things and find each moment as precious as it deserves to be), but all revolving around the central theme of "good things" in life.<br /><br />I need more of that and less stress. I need a good session - any volunteers? *grin*Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-32512246593816618472007-05-16T19:31:00.000-07:002007-05-16T19:32:21.188-07:00Before I step out into the breezy late spring air this evening, I wanted to let you know that I am thinking of you.<br /><br />Another post is in the making, I'm pregnant with words.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-84324053269719573232007-05-01T17:45:00.000-07:002007-05-01T22:41:35.926-07:00I knew as soon as he kissed me that it was a kiss with intent. Kisses of affection, kisses that bind us together in domestic life and partnership, have been the most common lately. This sort of kiss, filled with abandon and promise, was more than that.<br /><br />It's no secret that I haven't been "doing the deed," as it were, quite as often as I'd like. I have a rather epic sex drive that is impossible to match or exceed for most people but, during our good periods, Bear has (literally) risen to the challenge.<br /><br />Needless to say, I was a little hesitant to give in to his unspoken promises. To put it bluntly, the only thing worse than not fucking is starting to fuck and being put off. I'm simply not the type of girl who enjoys that.<br /><br />But the hair pulling and choking that followed the kiss, well, I'm the just the type of girl who enjoys that sort of thing. And multiple orgasms... let's just say that they're high on my list of "to do's."<br /><br />It's nice to be reminded that we're not roommates, and I've forgotten just how much I need a strong man in the bedroom. It was a wonderful weekend.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12984915.post-25613062764883916762007-04-28T21:01:00.000-07:002007-04-28T21:10:24.005-07:00Springtime is slowly beginning to rouse my slumbering attitude. Little by little, with every lightening flash and new tulip sprout, my body and mind come out of hibernation. I feel renewed. I feel rejuvenated. I feel all sorts of words that start with the prefix re-. *grin*<br /><br />I'm starting to feel like me again. Or, perhaps, a new and better version of me erupting from the cocoon of winter like a butterfly ready to spread her dewy wings.<br /><br />Scratch that. I did not just compare myself to a butterfly. How totally cliche.<br /><br />What I'm trying to say is this...<br /><br />How does one really know who he or she is unless challenged and allowed the possibility of emotional growth? Without the season of death there would be no season of rebirth. I fully intend to grasp this spring season and hold onto it with all my might, no matter where that might eventually take me.<br /><br />It might not be the hood of a Buick Regal in the middle of nowhere after a drive-in movie, but who says what comes next isn't equally as wonderful and exciting? Life goes on whether or not you are ready and willing to move with it.<br /><br />I'm trying to brush away the fear and be ready for it.<br /><br />Growing up is a bitch.Melliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15674735887389699790noreply@blogger.com