So my blogging has been a bit off this week, as you may have noticed. You see, I've been being topped by Mistress Lateral Epicondylitis. It's the first time I've ever bottomed to her, and whoo, she's a bitch!
In less formal terms: I have had a bad case of tennis elbow. Like, ow. Serious ow. It started in December and it's been bugging me ever since. What brought it on? Who knows. I had a massage therapist work on it at Kinkfest some, and he earnestly informed me it was too much flogging and caning. That's a pretty thought, but I'm inclined to think a lot of time on the keyboard could have something to do with it.
So I've done massage/ice/brace/ibuprofen and still: ow, all the time. So yesterday I said, "I have had enough of this. Okay, Doc, shoot me up." And got a cortisone shot.
It's my hope that I'll soon be able to type again without discomfort, but right now, my arm is a little extra-sore from getting it poked with several needles. (Even though he was very gentle and careful. But yes, all the people I have stuck needles into can chuckle.)
If not, I'm going to have to start doing a lot more photos and podcasts to keep ya'll entertained. And learn to use my left hand to flog people. Anyone want to stunt-model for that?
Friday, April 03, 2009
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
You know how you go out of town and you forget about all the not-fun stuff you left hanging in your absence? Or is it that somehow, in a not-really-rational part of your brain, you think that little kinky elves will come while you're away and do all those tedious chores? And then you come home and there they are? Yeah. I hate that.
Like what? Like Ikea, that's what. I have a list of household stuff I require, and none of it needs to be spendy, so Ikea it is. (I know, Miss K, I know - you're going to be mad that I didn't take you with me. But I have to go today, and it's going to be just as quick-and-dirty as an Ikea run can be. Pray god the rug-rats aren't out in force on a weekday afternoon.)
Also, I have to find a dress. Oh, Matisse, you say, you have dozens upon dozens of dresses. Why would you possibly need another one?
It's true that I have a ridiculous number of dresses. But this is a very particular kind of dress. It's a going-to-my-brother's-wedding dress.
I said that to my partners, and they both replied, "What, you can't wear one of those Herve dresses?" Typical men. No! Of course not! Good lord, my mother would keel over if I wore one of those skin-tight, bodda-boom, bodda-bing numbers to a family wedding. (Not that I am not seriously lusting for some of the Spring 2009 offerings.)
No, I need something a Nice Southern Girl would wear to a summer wedding in Florida, in May. You may well imagine that I actually don't have a closet full of such ensembles.
And I'm mildly annoyed to see that my darling brother and his (very nice) wife-to-be have scheduled the ceremony for 6pm. Any well-brought-up lady knows that there's a big difference between what you wear to a daytime wedding, and what you wear to an evening wedding, and 6pm awkwardly straddles that divide. Sigh.
I'm unclear on whether the ceremony is being held in a church. But the bride is Italian, so I bet it is. So there's that, too.
Thus: something not black or white, and sort of evening-y but still not too sexy. Sleeveless is fine, perhaps even preferable since it's going to be hot. But nothing strappy or way low-cut, and the skirt should be not terribly tight and at least near my knee. And yet, with all that, not impossibly dowdy.
I could really use those elves or magic fairies right about now.
Like what? Like Ikea, that's what. I have a list of household stuff I require, and none of it needs to be spendy, so Ikea it is. (I know, Miss K, I know - you're going to be mad that I didn't take you with me. But I have to go today, and it's going to be just as quick-and-dirty as an Ikea run can be. Pray god the rug-rats aren't out in force on a weekday afternoon.)
Also, I have to find a dress. Oh, Matisse, you say, you have dozens upon dozens of dresses. Why would you possibly need another one?
It's true that I have a ridiculous number of dresses. But this is a very particular kind of dress. It's a going-to-my-brother's-wedding dress.
I said that to my partners, and they both replied, "What, you can't wear one of those Herve dresses?" Typical men. No! Of course not! Good lord, my mother would keel over if I wore one of those skin-tight, bodda-boom, bodda-bing numbers to a family wedding. (Not that I am not seriously lusting for some of the Spring 2009 offerings.)
No, I need something a Nice Southern Girl would wear to a summer wedding in Florida, in May. You may well imagine that I actually don't have a closet full of such ensembles.
And I'm mildly annoyed to see that my darling brother and his (very nice) wife-to-be have scheduled the ceremony for 6pm. Any well-brought-up lady knows that there's a big difference between what you wear to a daytime wedding, and what you wear to an evening wedding, and 6pm awkwardly straddles that divide. Sigh.
I'm unclear on whether the ceremony is being held in a church. But the bride is Italian, so I bet it is. So there's that, too.
Thus: something not black or white, and sort of evening-y but still not too sexy. Sleeveless is fine, perhaps even preferable since it's going to be hot. But nothing strappy or way low-cut, and the skirt should be not terribly tight and at least near my knee. And yet, with all that, not impossibly dowdy.
I could really use those elves or magic fairies right about now.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
A new podcast, in which Monk and I answer two reader letters. The first one is from a woman asking us about dealing with a disparity in sexual tastes in a marriage. Then we have a letter from an aspiring pro domme who asks about attitudes towards sex workers in the BDSM community.
(We also swear a lot. I think we were tired or something.)
About fifteen minutes.
(We also swear a lot. I think we were tired or something.)
About fifteen minutes.
Monday, March 30, 2009
No, I haven't run away and joined the circus. I've just been in full-on leather conference mode for the last three days. If you have ever been to one, you know just how all-consuming they can be.
I say "leather conference" out of habit. That's the term I was taught as a young kinkster. What I mean is a BDSM convention. It works like this: a group of people get together, organize a hotel and a conference venue, invite people to teach classes on various kinds of BDSM-related topics, and throw play-parties in the evenings. There's also a vendor space where a bunch of BDSM retailers will come set up booths and sell everything from whips and rope to books and kinky art.
There are some events with variations on that theme, but that's usually how it looks. So typically one would arrive Friday afternoon, register and mill around in the vendor/social space, and sometimes attend some type of welcoming ceremonies, where the workshop presenters will be introduced to the crowd and some "we'd like to thank..." speeches are made.
The next two days, you spend the days attending classes in whatever topics interest you, and shopping or socializing. Sometimes there are organized dinners, sometimes not. At night, you go to the play-parties.
I used to go to two or three leather cons a year, but the last few years I'm a bit less motivated to do that. They are fun, but the travel is a hassle and certainly not inexpensive. And the thing about cons that's both good and bad is that they are like an alternate universe, and one tends to get completely immersed in the social system of them while one is there - to the utter neglect of the rest of the world. Which leads to some "oh, shit" moments on Sunday night when you realize you've let a ton of stuff slide and tomorrow is Monday!
Still, for some people, it's the only time they do get to immerse themselves in a kinky environment. I'm fortunate enough to get to live that way most of my life.
Anyway, I'll post some stories about various things I saw and did over the next few days, and yes, I am going to publish your responses to last week's letter, too! Today I'm driving back to Seattle to re-join my normal kinky life, which I'm actually pleased to say is already in progress.
I say "leather conference" out of habit. That's the term I was taught as a young kinkster. What I mean is a BDSM convention. It works like this: a group of people get together, organize a hotel and a conference venue, invite people to teach classes on various kinds of BDSM-related topics, and throw play-parties in the evenings. There's also a vendor space where a bunch of BDSM retailers will come set up booths and sell everything from whips and rope to books and kinky art.
There are some events with variations on that theme, but that's usually how it looks. So typically one would arrive Friday afternoon, register and mill around in the vendor/social space, and sometimes attend some type of welcoming ceremonies, where the workshop presenters will be introduced to the crowd and some "we'd like to thank..." speeches are made.
The next two days, you spend the days attending classes in whatever topics interest you, and shopping or socializing. Sometimes there are organized dinners, sometimes not. At night, you go to the play-parties.
I used to go to two or three leather cons a year, but the last few years I'm a bit less motivated to do that. They are fun, but the travel is a hassle and certainly not inexpensive. And the thing about cons that's both good and bad is that they are like an alternate universe, and one tends to get completely immersed in the social system of them while one is there - to the utter neglect of the rest of the world. Which leads to some "oh, shit" moments on Sunday night when you realize you've let a ton of stuff slide and tomorrow is Monday!
Still, for some people, it's the only time they do get to immerse themselves in a kinky environment. I'm fortunate enough to get to live that way most of my life.
Anyway, I'll post some stories about various things I saw and did over the next few days, and yes, I am going to publish your responses to last week's letter, too! Today I'm driving back to Seattle to re-join my normal kinky life, which I'm actually pleased to say is already in progress.
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