My Life Is Kinda Awesome

So reading this badly written romance novel has made me realize a few things. I read romance novels when I was in my 20s because I dreamed of finding love like that.(I was unhappily married.) That isn't missing for me anymore. I am romance novel in love with my husband. One of the reasons these novels make me laugh is because I remember how drama trauma filled the early days in a collar were. Its been a very long time since then, but I remember it. And I don't miss it, not even a little bit. I'm happier every day. My collar is comfortably broken in like my favorite jeans.

I was in about mile 3 yesterday thinking how wonderfully supportive my husband and best friend are and, because they believe in me, I know I can do this. Being diagnosed and knowing that I will likely never have another day totally without pain for the rest of my life sucked. A lot. But knowing that my husband and friends and family will be there for me no matter what made it possible to take. It also made it possible for me to reach for something that won't be easy but will help.

It still isn't easy.  Some days are really hard. I stick to my general "suck it up, Buttercup" attitude in those moments. Feeling sorry for myself won't make the pain any less, so why bother? It is what it is, I learn to cope. And I keep running and getting stronger.

50 Shades of Headdesk

A well meaning vanilla friend gave me that book. Because it was a best seller. And apparently this is the exception when it comes to inappropriate porn sharing. Which seems unfair... Since it's bad porn.

I stopped reading romance novels about a decade ago. I tried. I really did. But this book is awful. Like makes me long to go get the Gor novels out of storage for better character development bad.

Maybe this is taboo and exciting if you haven't been in a collar for the better part of the decade. But since i haz the kinky, the porn parts, thus far, are yawn worthy tame compared to my average Tuesday roll in the hay, let alone full out playtime.

Which leaves me confronted by the character development. This book reads like what it is... Lame fan fiction. Only it's lame fan fiction based on a lame series. I'm longing for a break of hot Kirk on Spock action, just to break the "Oh my..." monotony. Hell, i'm longing for a spork in the eye, just make it stop!

First of all, the author named the main characters "Steele" & "Grey".  Sigh. Fuck you, reader, she's going full out TV weatherman name. Take it, bitches!!!

So we have our floormat. Not in the very submissive slave way. I'm a big fan of that way. Anastasia is a floormat in the lays there, flat, and once you've wiped your feet has no real use kind of way. You could substitute a mop with a pair of wax lips jammed in the bristles for her and not miss a beat.

Now let's just say I've sucked a cock or two in my day. I have a secret. If a woman tells you she's a virgin who's never done this before, then proceeds to gobble your knob like Linda Lovelace on X, and you believe it, tip that girl well. Not because she is the worlds only first time deepthroat artist, but because she just sold you the most unbelievable lie in modern history.

And then there's Christian Grey. Haven't we had enough of the gonna make that Dom who is clearly saying he just wants to fuck me love me drama in real life? Is a three novel fictional set really necessary? I can give you the email addresses of a few dozen girls that will show you just how endlessly fascinating these desperate codependent chicks really are.

I'll let you borrow the spork. You'll need it.

This guys a douche. I'm about halfway through this literary vomit bag and just not getting the great grandiose romance here. Is the idea of a guy that's really into you that novel a concept that it hypnotizes women into mindless fandom? Read Gone with the Wind ladies. Admittedly, less cervical pounding, but Rhett is really into Scarlett. And there is the added bonus of it not being a few hundred pages of IQ drag factor. Then rent a porn. All the cunt pounding, and pretty similar dialog. Baby.

If You Pulled It Out Of Your Ass, Keep It To Yourself...

This is pretty much a good standard in life. It covers opinions.  See, if you have no knowledge of or experience with something, your opinion on how to successfully accomplish it is completely useless. So STFU.

Never been in a collar? STFU. I don't need advice on how to be a good slave. Reading a bad fan fiction book and hopping online for 10 minutes does not a pedigree make.

Been in a collar a dozen times because you keep failing at it over and over again?  STUF, you have no advice on how to be a good slave, just on how to be a total failure. Oh, STUF and punch yourself as hard as you can in the face. Because you're twice as annoying as the "I just read Fifty Shades of Grey/Gor novels and know everything there is to know about slavery" people.  At least they're just clueless.  You velcro twats KNOW you don't know what you're doing, you KNOW you're not good at this, its a proven fact.  So when you ramble on and on and on about it, you KNOW you're full of shit.  So punch yourself as hard as you can in the face.  And STFU... Twice.

Oh and if you're vast experience consists of all the years you spent online in mIRC and on CM and FL, while failing in real life... you people make me long for the velcro people. I have this secret dream that somewhere out there, there really are alien ships, and those aliens are harvesting worthless, and they monitor our computer transmissions looking for people talking about what they would really do if if Gor were real and they were transported there, just so they can transport those people to said environment and watch those fat old fucks die... painfully.  Its just a dream, I know. Do you know why I know this?  Because Gor isn't real you socially retarded piles of goo.  Ok, maybe that dream isn't so secret. Fuck, you people are worthless.

The gene pool needs some bleach.

Its a Mass Murder, Not a Fucking Fashion Show

I leave Headline News and CNN running in the background most of the day. So I get the extraordinary pleasure of listening to the 24 hour news cycle wrap around itself until it chokes.

Do you think Morrow would have spent half the day discussing why a dye job was a dead give away that a guy who shot 70 people and boobie trapped his apartment is nuts?

I'm sorry... shooting 70 people and boobie trapping his apartment didn't accomplish that?   A bottle of Manic Panic did?

Epic reporting fail.

Why Settle For A Total Douche Canoe?

I recently saw a woman say, and several other women agree, that when a disability isn't visible on the surface, its expected that your significant other forget about it. I don't get it. I don't think i want to really. I consider the closeness between my husband and i, and the fact that he does pay attention to things about me, and finds me important enough to remember those things, an essential foundation for our life together. I can't wrap my mind around the idea that the person i am most intimate with not considering me important enough to remember something like that.

No, you don't have to settle. Not EVERYONE forgets essential things about the person they're most intimate with. Why give up and settle for whatever schmuck comes along?

Once again the bdsm community at large gives me reason to love my husband just that much more.

Other Changes

As I ran tonight, looking down at the pavement and listening to my running playlist on Spotify, I looked down at the pavement and realized there was something that was so common when I ran the streets as a child that you don't see anymore.  Kids today will never see (and would not recognize if they did) the sight of the unwound acetate of a cassette tape broken on the ground.

Not that it is better, or worse, just different.

Cha...cha...cha....changes

When Master and I initially started spending a lot of time together, I started cooking for him. I remember one experiment - meatloaf with hard boiled eggs in the middle.  I never made it that way again, with mashed potatoes made with cream cheese in addition to the heavy cream.  Yeah... no great mystery why I once weighed almost 300 pounds, huh?  There was a lot of alfredo sauce in our diet.  And butter, cheese, insane amounts of carbs.  Obviously I don't cook that way anymore. 

Dinner tonight was an experiment. Grilled tilapia, roasted radishes and carrots and whole wheat pasta with roasted garlic.  I was shocked.  I had never used the Foreman grill for tilapia before.  Brush on some olive oil and lemon pepper and it was absolutely perfect.  It was supposed to be fresh made pasta, but that part of the experiment did not come out properly.  So I went with some whole wheat spaghetti, which worked just fine with the roasted garlic olive oil.  (I love my garlic roaster.) I was pleasantly surprised by how tender and sweet the roasting made the radishes.

Now I have to shift my thinking once again.  Not just to weight loss but to muscle building.  Changes are not always easy. But if you are the same person at 40 that you were at 20, doing the same things the same way, you're a corpse. I love my changes.

Just because.

Cause there is a Walking Dead Marathon this weekend.
And because unlike Jell-o, there actually IS always room for Alien Sex Fiend.

Holy Hair, Batman!

I have long hair. Like strangers pet me long hair. And with working out 4 -6 days a week in the Florida summer, that means its wet and down more lately. Which has led to a few odd moments. My favorite was when a man walked up behind me in the gym and pulled my hair.

For some reason men feel comfortable doing this. I don't know if it is because its unusual or they have an almost schoolboy inability to resist, but i get petted by total strangers solely because my hair is long.

Funny.

I think I can...

70% humidity, felt like over 90 degrees at 9:00 p.m. and I still ran a 5k today.