There's nothing underhand, That she wouldn't understand. Pump it up until you can feel it. Pump it up when you don't really need it.

There's this cinematic cliche making the rounds of reality tv and other such places lately. Basically, someone says something that another person finds awkward or uncomfortable and the second party just remains silent. Sometimes with a close up of the uncomfortable person. The editors then add in the sound of crickets.

So...chirp, chirp, chirp.

I want to paint you with glitter and with dirt/Picture you with innocence and hurt/The shutter closes/Exposes the shot/

She says, "Are you looking up my skirt?"/When you say "No"/She says "Why not?"

Or: Part One of How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Getting Off Online

I think I've previously established that I have become, hmmmmm, preoccupied with sex lately. I've wondered if this is what it's like to be a teenaged boy -- they supposedly think of sex, what, every 20 seconds or something? I don't know that I'm there, but I'm close. Hell, during parts of the day that's all I'm thinking about. It's not an unpleasant turn of events, by any means, but it can get a little, um, frustrating. And a little mystifying.

Having exhausted my patience with one-handed reading with some, ahem, literature around the house, and having the luxury of my laptop I started thinking about the possibilities online. I’m not completely naïve about porn on the internet – I’ve seen a fair amount of stuff, so I did a little Googling and found some vaguely interesting photos. They worked. A couple of times. But it just felt…blah bleh and kind of icky and empty. Just not my thing.

Next on my quest: slash. A definition of slash, according to Wikipedia.org:

"Slash fiction is a genre of fan fiction. It focuses on the depiction of romantic, and sometimes sexual, relationships between two or more male characters, who are not necessarily engaged in relationships in the canon universe. While the term originally was restricted to fan fiction in which one or more male media characters were involved in an explicit adult relationship as a primary plot element, it is currently more generally used to refer to any pairing between male characters."

That definition aside, I was looking for the depiction of fairly graphic (who am I kidding – very graphic) sexual encounters between fictional characters I know and love. I mean, pictures of airbrushed porn stars meant absolutely nothing to me. Stories about favorite characters having beautifully explicit sex together? Now that I could consider. I went searching. It felt more than a little dirty to start my search with characters from Harry Potter, but alas, I’m weak and I love me some Weasley’s. I actually ended up settling on a story depicting a threesome between Harry, Ron and Draco that was surprisingly tender and, yes, hot. It worked. Twice. What can I say? Having only found that one satisfactory story in the Harry Potter genre, I needed to move on. Plus, it didn’t feel quite right to be getting off to stories of teenaged boys and I just couldn’t find anything decent involving Snape. Even a perv like me in search of fast kicks has some limits.

Then I had an a-ha moment: Battlestar Galatica! My favorite TV show in the world populated with characters I adore. I Googled, I found a site, I searched. There is indeed a lot of BSG slash fiction. Unfortunately, most of it was about character pairings I really didn’t find particularly arousing. Apparently very many people fantasize about Felix Gaeta and Gaius Baltar getting freaking. Sadly, I don’t. Let’s face it, I’m a Lee Adama gal all the way. Lee doesn’t see a lot of action in the slash world, but I finally found a story pairing Lee up with Rolo Lampkin, the lawyer who defended Baltar, with Lee’s assistance, at the big Season Three ending trial. The story took up mid-trial and was just okay. No go. I found another right away, hooking Lee up with Sam Anders, husband to Lee’s semi-secret love Kara Thrace (who was thought to be dead at this point). Now this was looking more hopeful. The story was quite sweet, with Lee and Anders commiserating over Kara’s death, culminating in them comforting each other in a very, very hot way. And oh, how that one worked. And worked. And then it didn’t anymore.

Let’s keep in mind that I’m talking about weeks passing with all this activity; not just a couple days or anything. Weeks and weeks previous I had happened across an adult chatroom website and had bookmarked it. Obviously I had an interest since I bothered to search for and find it, but I had not dared do anything else. I knew next to nothing about chatrooms, adult or otherwise, except that they tend to have fairly established cultures and newbies tend to stand out like sore thumbs. But still, every day I saw that bookmark on my list, taunting me and daring me to click on it.

In the meantime, I was exhausting Steve, making demands that he wasn’t always interested in meeting. I believe he actually said to me once, while I was crawling over him trying to interest him in some action, “I’m not a machine.” Ouch. I was pissed the whole next day about that, though I completely understand his point, now. But I knew I had to do something to blow off all this extra steam. On top of everything else, I was stressed, on and off, about work, and my body had begun betraying me with all kinds of chronic aches and pains, to which I’ve alluded before. I began to see an obvious correlation between sex (whether the self kind or the other) and feeling better. Physically and mentally. Now that’s medicine I can get behind, yeah? There was one 24 hour period where I, well, healed myself five times. Five times. I’m quite sure that entire years of my life had passed where I didn’t heal myself five times. Putting aside the fact that I had the desire to heal myself five times in a 24 hour period, I could heal myself five times in a 24 hour period. What the fuck? This was the greatest thing ever. But I did need more fuel for my inner fires.

Your mind is made up but your mouth is well undone

Hey, it's been awhile, hasn't it? My next post will explain what I've been doing with my online time, but this one is to show some pictures of my fabulous Christmas presents.

First is this oxidized silver pendant with an extra brass blossom charm. You can't tell in the picture, but the oxidation is blue and green.


I should document what Etsy seller this came from, but I don't remember. I love birds and I love freshwater pearls, so this necklace was a natural.


And now we begin the chalcedony portion of our post. I have recently become obsessed by the stone, particularly the greenish blue ones. These earrings are just gorgeous.


To match a lovely pair of chalcedony and gold earrings I got at the Rock 'n Roll Craft Show, I asked for this gold dangle necklace with it's chalcedony teardrop and smoky quartz bead.


And probably my favorite of the bunch, this simple silver bird and chalcedony briolette necklace. This stone is of such an absolutely gorgeous color. I love how the light refraction makes it appear as if the stones are a creamy, translucent color on the inside and that exquisite green blue only on the outside. I just want to gaze at it.

So come for the danger, stay for the strange/But I'm never going to give it away/You'll never clean my dirty mind

Happy New Year! It's hard to believe it's 2008 already. As my co-worker asked this morning, where's my flying car, where's my jet pack, where's my vidphone? (OK, well, I asked about the vidphone. He pointed out that webcams sort of fill that hole.) Besides disappointment that what was the future is pretty much exactly the same as the past, it just seems crazy fast that it's already 2008. It seems like the insanity over Y2K was just a few months ago. In other words, time flies.

I had to work today, this morning, in fact. Time passed quickly because we talked about sex just about constantly. It's currently my favorite subject. And activity. To paraphrase Homer Simpson, it's the cause and the solution to all life's problems. And way more fun than beer.

Oh, and speaking of sex, if you've become enamored of Alex O'Loughlin, you must rent The Oyster Farmer, if for nothing else than a rather extended and quite naturalistic sex scene. You know how much I love this man, right? Even I had to look away, it was so intimate. Of course, that didn't stop me from watching it again. And making Steve watch it.

Oyster Farmer clip

You'll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking

Oh, if that title were true, I'd be burnt to a crisp. As I believe I've mentioned before, I am constantly (well, often anyway) musing about the sexual potential of customers, various celebrities, random strangers, people I've known for years. It's the curse or blessing of my [almost] middle-aged hormones, I suppose. Today after seeing my favorite classical musician customer (looking especially fetching, I might add, despite his awful Coogi sweater), a couple of co-workers and I were talking about the subject. One of them freely copped to doing exactly what I do. (Which does amount, I admit, to objectifying a person nearly completely. So sue me.) The other co-worker claimed to have never done such a thing. She said that when she was in a relationship she never even thought of anyone else as attractive, let alone about doing wonderfully naughty things with them. Now that she's single I think her implication was that she's just too chaste to think that way. A load of bullshit or sadly true? Your guess is as good as mine with this chick. I had to listen to a verrrrrrrry long exposition about how her life is just like the life of a certain former very popular TV character. Very long. And, by the way, not so much.

I just finished reading "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter" by Carson McCullers. Man, I thought I liked her, but I could barely make myself finish this book. It was tortuously slow going but I didn't want to give up. Give me Flannery O'Connor, Harper Lee, Eudora Welty or, more currently, Donna Tartt, any day. Sorry Carson, but don't feel bad because I don't much like William Faulkner either.

I have all evening to myself and I'm going to spend it with my celebrity secret boyfriend, Alex O'Loughlin, watching The Oyster Farmer. Yum. I'll leave you with a lovely candid from ComicCon.

It was you breathless and tall, I could feel my eyes turning into dust

Guess I should have posted a picture of our little silver Christmas tree earlier, but I didn't. I've enjoyed it's flashing lights and tinkly ornaments, but I'll probably take it down in the next couple of days.



It's really kind of hard to believe that Christmas has already come and gone. This wasn't my jolliest of holiday seasons, but it was all right. Christmas day was actually pretty damn fun, particularly when my sister and I waged a furious boxing battle against each other with the Wii. She won, but it was by decision, not a KO, at least. It was nine minutes of vigorous aerobic exercise and much yelling and screaming. There was a threat of the entire thing being posted to Youtube, but it hasn't happened yet. Perhaps I'll post it, if I don't look too ridiculous. I've never wanted a videogame, but I think I'd like to have a Wii. The tennis, baseball and bowling had their charms as well. I wonder what else you can play on it? I could barely move the next morning though. That's some real exercise you get from the Wii.

I haven't cooked much lately, what with my foul moods and the holidays. But on this, my brief day off, I've baked a loaf of bread and made a ginormous pot of chicken noodle soup. Wanna see?





The house smells really good from the bread baking and the soup simmering. An added salad should make a lovely dinner.

You broke another mirror; you're turning into something you are not.

What a fucking day. Mid morning, at work, some sort of hormonal surge or something sent me into a total tailspin. It was everything I could do to keep from sobbing into the lattes. I'm not even sure what it was that set me off. Perhaps the fact that I have to work on so many holidays now. For the last 15+ years I haven't had to work between Christmas Eve and January 2 and it's just shocking to have no choice in the matter now. I'm feeling like I do nothing but work now; that all my life revolves around going to work. Can't stay out late because I have to get up at 3:45a the next day. Can't go to dinner because I have to work until almost 11:00p. Can't do anything but wait for the next shift to start. This job takes up way more of my energy than I expected and sometimes I really resent it. Today is definitely one of those days. I don't feel like I have a single bit of control over when I work and I hate that. Do I even have any vacation days? How long before they start accumulating? At my last job I walked in with three weeks vacation. God, I miss that. Sometimes I miss those regular hours too. Today is not a day that I value the variety this job provides. The only good thing that happened today is that I got to go home a couple hours early.

I need some serious Christmas cheer. Tonight we're celebrating with Steve's family, including his very ill youngest brother. I don't suspect it will be a terribly cheery event. Hopefully tomorrow with my family will improve my mood. Of course, I'm already fretting that I have to work on Wednesday at 4:45a...