Uncommon Curiosity

New Digs

2009-08-05T08:59:00.000-07:00

I have a happy new blog home: uncommoncuriosity.com

Y'all are welcome to come by and see what I've done with the place. Hope to see you soon!

Waiter - there's reality in my soup

2009-08-04T10:55:00.001-07:00

You may have noticed a few changes with this blog. A friend from Tacoma made me aware of a security leak in the blog today, and I'm going to have to reassess what and how I post from now on. I'm very sorry to have to remove a few things from public view - at the moment I'm not sure when or if they'll come back up.

I'm feeling very sad, and a bit angry, for having to be so protective, but the die is cast. All I can say is that sometimes the bad guys win.

Thank you

2009-07-31T09:37:00.000-07:00

Real life has been very hard lately, and I owe what little sanity I have left to a small group of very dear imaginary friends who have patiently listened to me as I try to work through what's left of my psyche and my marriage. And by "Imaginary friends" I mean friends who sit behind computers hundreds and thousands of miles away, listening and understanding and offering bits of advice and lots of sympathy. A few are well-known to this blog and others are brand new...strangers who've stumbled into my mess of a life and have graciously stayed to offer an ear and a shoulder.

For everyone who has listened to me rant, put up with my disorienting ups and downs, offered a shoulder, some sympathy, compassion, or a bit of spare backbone when mine was lacking...thank you, from the bottom of my heart and the top of my head. You have helped me when I thought I was lost and carried me through when I couldn't imagine going any further.

Oh I want to thank you for so many gifts
You gave me love and tenderness
I want to thank you
I want to thank you for your generosity,
The love, and the honesty that you gave to me
I want to thank you, show my gratitude,
My love and my respect for you

I want to thank you

When Kyle Met Roxy #7

2009-07-22T10:38:00.000-07:00

On a crowded street in Seattle, two strangers were walking towards each other. As they passed, their eyes met and, amidst the chaos of bodies moving around them, they stood staring at one another.

The child inside the first stranger whispered excitedly,

“Hello friend!”

The child inside the second stranger whispered back,

“Hello old friend. It’s been a long time – you look different.”

The first child laughed, “yes, I suppose so.”

“You have breasts!” the second said in surprise.

“Do you like them? I wasn’t sure…”

“They look awesome on you!”

“It was one of those spur of the moment choices….list of options: check, check…check…check.”

“You checked ‘all of the above’ didn’t you?”

“Heh” The first child grinned sheepishly.

“You never could choose just one thing – you had to have them all.”

“It was a bit impulsive, but you know me.”

“I like it. And, yeah, I do…know you.”

“You look awesome as always,” said the first.

“Thank you,” replied the second with a shy grin.

“Your eyes are the same. I love them, always have.”

“It’s been a long time…I think they’re a little sadder than they were when we last met.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from more of it this time, but they’re still beautiful. They still speak so clearly to me.”

“Thank you, my friend…you are still so very dear to me.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

There was a pause as the two basked in their joyful reunion.

“Do you think…this time perhaps…we could try love?” ventured the first child a bit nervously.

“I’d like that.” The second child smiled warmly. “I’d like that a lot.”

The first child beamed with happiness. “Then let’s do it.”

The two children embraced and kissed as the sun set behind the buildings of the city, giggling together in their delight at having found one another again.

And, as their laughter floated off into the breeze, the first stranger said to the second, as he held out a hand, “I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s Kyle.”

Taking his hand and squeezing it warmly, the second stranger replied, “It’s so nice to meet you, Kyle. I’m Roxy…Would you…like to join me for a cup of coffee? I know it’s weird, but I’ve got the strangest feeling we have a lot to talk about.” She looked up into his eyes, trying to remember something just out of reach, like the pang of a dream that had drifted away. There was no way to explain it, but somehow she knew she loved him, this stranger, as clearly as she knew the sky was a darkening blue behind the thick layer of clouds that obscured it.

“It’s not strange,” Kyle replied with a smile. “I’d love a cup of coffee.” And, as she took his arm, he looked again into her eyes and felt his chest swell with excitement, the pressure threatening to burst his heart. He laughed to let it out, and she laughed with him, as she gently pressed her head to his chest and they walked off together towards the warmth of a diner.

(See more of the conversation here.)

In the Kitchen with Roxy - Sexy Mushrooms

2009-07-21T09:07:00.000-07:00

For years, my husband and I have been going to a little place in Berkeley called Shattuck Ave. Spats. This is a place with big velvet smoking chairs and stained glass windows where they serve old fashioned businessman's meals - big meat and serious drinks. The reason for our adoration is a little side dish they make with mushrooms and butter. It took us years, but we finally found a good recipe for making them at home - quick and easy and my favorite aphrodesiac (yes, better than chocolate...)

What you need:

A pan - I prefer a sautee or frying pan, but you can do it in a pot, too, if the bottom is wide enough to evenly heat the mushrooms

A gas stove - not electric - don't get me started.

1 stick of butter (You might not choose to use it all, but, then again, you might...)

1 shallot, finely chopped (I use about 2 T, but you can use as much or as little as you'd like. You can also use garlic or onion, but I like shallot for the delicate flavor)

1 container of mushrooms (sliced are easiest, but, if you can find the little button mushrooms, those are great whole)

Dry cooking sherry (between 1/4 cup and 1 cup)

Hunk of sourdough bread

Salt - kosher (optional)

Cream - between 1 T and 1/4 cup (optional)

Chopped fresh thyme - about 2 T, maybe more if you love thyme (optional)

Place at least 1/2 a stick of butter in the pan. Melt it over medium heat. Yes, it's a lot. Just stop now and walk away if you're worried about it. I'm sure you can find some wheatgrass to snack on.

When the butter is melted, add the chopped shallots:

Sautee the shallots until the whole house smells good (a little longer if you have a small apartment), then add the mushrooms:
(Make sure that the ones you have are pre-cleaned or clean them yourself)

The mushrooms will immediately soak up all the butter and the pan will look very dry.
Do not panic - this is supposed to happen:

Continue to stir the mushrooms over medium heat until they start to soften and get juicy:

At this point I usually add extra butter - 1 or 2 T - because I like it.

The mushrooms and butter will start to get very excited. Now's the hard part - stop stirring. That's it - let them brown without molesting them (you may stir a little if you must, but you really want them to just chill out in the nice shallot-butter hot tub you've got going for them)
Open a window or turn on the hood now because otherwise you'll set off the fire alarms.

Eventually (sooner if the heat is higher, later if not) the mushrooms will be brown with bits of dark brown butter around the edges of the pan:

When they look brown enough to be yummy to you, pick up the sherry:

Start with a splash of sherry - about 1/4 cup. The sherry adds flavor and cuts the heavy butter taste, so use more if you'd like a cleaner taste, less if you want a butterier sauce. Be careful - sherry hitting a hot pan tends to spit:

Turn up the heat and let it bubble for a bit:

Taste it by dipping sourdough bread in. If it tastes too much like butter, add more sherry. If it tastes too much like sherry, let it simmer some more or add more butter. If you used unsalted butter, add salt. If you'd like to add some cream, add a little at a time until it looks and tastes good. If you'd like to add thyme, add it now:

Whoo hoo! You're done. Eat it immediately because it doesn't taste as good when it's cold.
This is good straight up, with bread, and I've been told it's also good on steak.

I prefer it on my husband's fingers.

On the Town with Mr. Jones

2009-06-24T11:38:00.000-07:00

(Continued from Violet Wand)

When Kyle came to visit a few weeks ago, we had 3 wonderful days together, which meant that, after attacking one another thoroughly on Friday, we were able to take it a little slower on Saturday. Yes, there was still lots of sexy goodness, but there was also time to snuggle together on the couch and talk. The pleasure of stroking his hair and feeling his body pressed against mine while we chatted about the little details of our lives is a rare luxury, and we basked in the glow of just being.

And then, of course, we got back to making the sign of the double-humped aardvark.

Thoroughly exhausted and hungry, we agreed it was time to go eat. Kyle’s a big fan of Indian food, so my husband and I took him to Amber India in San Jose. The food was exquisite, the service was wonderful, and our server even “Sir”ed Kyle, which put a grin on his face you could see for miles.

(This is Papdi Chat, one of my favorite dishes.)

After dinner, we went to a little karaoke bar called 7 Bamboo. When we got there, it was nearly empty, but it filled up once Kyle started singing. Kyle has an amazing voice and a damn sexy presence on stage – he lit up the place with “Rock and Roll,” “Are You Gonna Be My Girl?” and “Crazy On You.”

There is nothing quite so romantic as being serenaded...

My husband wasn't feeling well, so he headed home, and Kyle and I walked around downtown, enjoying the cool stillness of the night and the occasional reveler from the two Anime conventions in town. We found ourselves alone in a beautiful square and I had a chance to take a couple of pictures:

We had a few moments to ourselves in the park and took one of my favorite pictures of us together. More and more I wish I could share my face, and my secrets, with the world, but, for now, you’ll have to take my word for the way my eyes sparkled with happiness.

Earning Points in the Bonus Round

2009-06-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

My family is an amalgam of disparate elements. On one side - blonde, blue-eyed and fond of rocks and cold weather. On the other, darker side - brown eyes, an easy tan, an impossible-to-pronounce family name and lactose intolerance. Because it's only on one side, my issues with milk tend to come and go, resulting in a situation in which I'm lulled into a false sense of security and then, bam!, at the worst possible moment, when I'm feeling stressed and low, suddenly all the dairy I've consumed in blissful ignorance gangs up on my insides, triggering World War XII. (III - XI were also fought in my belly, fyi.)

Last night I was on the phone with Kyle, clearly under the weather, and he asked what was up.

"I feel pretty awful...but at least I'm losing weight," I said in an attempt at humor.

"Oh no! Don't lose your curves, baby! I love your curves."

And, suddenly, in the midst of my empty-bellied misery, a light shone down on me. Yes, it's probably superficial and foolish. Yes, I should be above worrying about how I look to the people I love. But, right then, at my nadir of ickiness, Kyle knee-jerk response surprised me and made me feel

(cue angelic choir)

beautiful.

Take note, boys and girls. In the great game-show of life, sometimes it's the unguarded, real words blurted out in the bonus round that win the day. The beautiful moments when everything is picture-perfect can be wonderful, but I save a special place in my heart for the ugly, untidy moments when we let down our walls and our real selves connect.

Plus, he thinks I'm beautiful just the way I am. And that is one of the best jackpots of all.

Hammock

2009-05-29T09:43:00.001-07:00

When Kyle came to visit last weekend, the second thing we did after getting back to my place was to introduce him to my hammock. I have the most comfortable, wonderful, rainbow-colored, soft and cushy hammock in the known world, and Kyle was an easy convert. The weather was perfect, not too warm, with a light breeze, and we lay together, swaying gently, under my favorite comforter, enjoying the bird songs.

It’s a funny thing that, of all the little moments we’ve shared, the sexy interludes in back alleys and romps in hotel rooms, this was one of my favorites: lying there, together, in a shared state of gentle bliss.

Cuz, you know, we had to recover from the first thing we did when we got home…

Happy feet in love, and Kyle's vacation anklet

These three pictures are some of my favorites from the trip. I wish I could share them without cropping myself out - the look on my face speaks volumes about love and happiness

I just have to brag a bit - that look on Kyle's face? I did that.

Conjuring the Dream

2009-05-13T09:44:00.000-07:00

I arrive, nervous.

Everything is the same - no,
not quite.
The couch has moved, and a brown chair
covers that spot on the floor
where…

But that was 2 years ago. Months of dust
have fallen
and been swept from that floor.

It smells of her.

We eat, talking of Indonesia
and baseball.
He’s made a salad of mangoes.
I love mangoes. He smiles
and when he pauses to look at me, his eyes are
so blue. I’m surprised he sees me still.

I remember pictures on the wall of Paris.
Over tea, we spoke, she and I,
we shared sugar and lemons, walnuts and cream
and I belonged.

Slowly, like pressing a spoon
into thick, milky custard,
I slide into the sweetness of the past.
These walls, this place, these people -
they were there.

In that moment when we were braver,
I was a part of it. I had a place here.

But now,
I visit. And the cold of the porch
after the door has closed
awakens me from
that beautiful dream
of tea and Paris

when

she

loved me.

Opening Salvo

2009-05-10T00:01:00.000-07:00

Me: “Hey, Mom, I have a song I think you’ll like.” *Handing her my ipod*

Mom: *Listening* “What is it?”

Me: “It’s a song called ‘Take Your Mama’ by the Scissor Sisters. It’s about a guy coming out to his mom.”

Mom: *Bopping her head in time to the music* “I like it.”

Me: “So do I.”

Not Yet

2009-05-02T17:28:00.000-07:00

I don’t want that
up and down
dizzy laughing walk
through someone else’s wisdom,
that giddy falling-through-air
feeling,
intoxicated by new ways and new steps.

I like this dance we have.

I know I should go
and I will, love, I will,
but not just yet.
I can’t remember how you like your toast
and I haven’t read your favorite book,
and I won’t give up
this sensation of flying
just so


I don’t

 feel it

     when

         I

             hit


                 the


                     ground.

You are chocolate-covered cherries on my tongue,
and my grasping fingers have left hard impressions in you
like fire on wax.
Forgive me, love,
I want you to be the one, my first,
for just a little longer.

You need more (and I need less),
and I don’t begrudge it,
but let me linger here tonight.
The lights are coming up as the sun sets,
warming me against the chill.
The sky is painted with a watercolor tin of hues.
It and I have known the darkness.
Let me sit here, enjoying the show a few moments longer.

You can go on ahead.

Soon, I’ll join you.
But not now, love,

not yet.

Tra La!

2009-05-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Beltane is one of my two favorite holidays (Halloween being the other) for the simple reason that it's the day we celebrate all things carnal. Look here for more information whilst I get ready to go tromping around in the pre-dawn darkness to coax the sun into rising yet again.

While you're enjoying the sunshine, consider indulging in as many fertility rites as you can manage. Looking for inspiration? I'll spend a good part of my wonderful birthday month of roses and sunshine singing this song from Camelot. I've always gotten a perverse pleasure from listening to Mary Poppins sing these lyrics:

Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when ev'ryone goes
Blissfully astray.
Tra la! It's here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear!
It's May! It's May!
That gorgeous holiday
When ev'ry maiden prays that her lad
Will be a cad!
It's mad! It's gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that ev'ryone takes,
Ev'ryone breaks.
Ev'ryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!

Whence this fragrance wafting through the air?
What sweet feelings does its scent transmute?
Whence this perfume floating ev'rywhere?
Don't you know it's that dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la! That dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la!

Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That darling month when ev'ryone throws
Self-control away.
It's time to do
A wretched thing or two,
And try to make each precious day
One you'll always rue!
It's May! It's May!
The month of "yes you may,"
The time for ev'ry frivolous whim,
Proper or "im."
It's wild! It's gay!
A blot in ev'ry way.
The birds and bees with all of their vast
Amorous past
Gaze at the human race aghast,
The lusty month of May.

Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when ev'ryone goes
Blissfully astray.
Tra la! It's here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear.
It's May! It's May!
The month of great dismay.

When all the world is brimming with fun,
Wholesome or "un."

It's mad! It's gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that ev'ryone takes,
Ev'ryone breaks.
Ev'ryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!

Newsflash - Roxy to Give Up Sex!

2009-04-01T09:08:00.001-07:00

A Nation Mourns – Roxy to Give up Sex and Pornography

Dateline: Texas

In a stunning reversal, Roxy Lovebites, erstwhile Bay Area resident and so-called sex blogger, has announced immediate plans to move to Texas and devote herself completely to chastity, humility and modesty. As she spoke to the crowd assembled at her new compound in Waco, Texas, she announced that she had “found Heaven on Earth here in Texas, a land of like-minded women interested in seeking the higher ground by abstaining from all sexual thoughts and deeds.” With a broad smile she told the crowd that she had “conquered her inner demons” and invited those present to join her at the Hitachi burning immediately following the press conference.

She continued, “I was surfing the web one night, looking for porn…when I came across something called “The Phyllis Schlafly Report” and my eyes were opened for the first time. Feminism, and the pornography those evil women are using to corrupt our souls, destroys women and families, and, ultimately, our country. I thought I was expressing my inner self and my First Amendment Rights, but now I know I was actually contributing to the downfall of civilization as we know it.”

When asked by reporters if she would be lonely in her new location, she smiled. “Thankfully, I talked a few of my fellow bloggers into joining me in fighting the scourge of sex-positivity, with its “Microfantasy Mondays” and “Half Nekkid Thursdays.” Nearly a dozen of my closest online girlfriends will join me in my quest. It makes my heart quiver to think of all the late nights we’ll spend together, feverishly fighting our demons…pushing one another higher and higher towards our goals…achieving the ultimate in human possibility…over…and over…as we work together to create what can only be considered paradise.”

New Policy

2009-03-31T08:51:00.000-07:00

To: All family and friends of Roxy, Inc, and its holdings

Re: New Termination Policy

As you are all aware, 2008 was a difficult year for Roxy, Inc, because of the many painful losses that we experienced. Although we had high hopes for 2009, the numbers suggest that this year is trending in the same direction, so management has decided to implement new termination policies to deal with our downsizing challenges.

Hereafter, all those wishing to engage in contracting a terminal illness or shuffling off this mortal coil must fill out forms 35 through 1049, longhand and in quadruplicate, and have them submitted a full six (6) months before proceeding with your plans. Management will then select no more than two (2) applications to accept in any given year. Those requesting painful or prolonged deaths will be denied without prejudice.

Management understands that the new policies may be challenging for those associates planning to leave us soon, but we are confident that you will be able to make the necessary adjustments to your schedule. In difficult times like these, we need to pull together and consider the needs of Roxy above the needs of the few.

Thank you,

Management,
Roxy, Inc.

Mentor

2009-03-30T21:44:00.000-07:00

His smile made you want to laugh, it was so full of generosity and affection. He was smart, of course, but he knew how not to show it and he managed the department as if it were no more difficult than eating a cookie. I remember him holding my shoulders and knowing there was no better place in the world than under his guidance, and I mourned when he moved into retirement as keenly as I will mourn him now.

He's slipping away, in a hospital nearby, but too sick to accept visitors, caught in a place between living and dead, close but far. I've never met someone so universally beloved - if they allowed it, the line of visitors would stretch clear around the world. But now it's too late for visits, too late for last words. He is alive but out of reach

and

I will never see him again.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to be an atheist tonight.

Heat

2009-03-06T11:13:00.001-08:00

As I walked out into the heat, I pressed the wet glass against my neck and looked towards the beds of tomatoes where you standing, leaning against your shovel. You had been out there all day, working on the garden in your blue plaid shirt and a straw hat to ward off the sun. There was sweat dripping down your neck and behind your collar and you grinned when you saw the cold lemonade in my hand. Walking over to sit down in the old settee, you gave me a peck on the lips that tasted like salt and heat and summer, and gulped down the drink with a thankful smile.

As you lay back against the bright orange cushions, I leaned over to kiss you again, licking the sweat from your red cheeks. I ran an idle hand over the curves of your body, but you were still, too exhausted to move.

“It’s so hot, baby,” you pleaded, eyes closed against the sun.

“I know, love,” I purred, kissing your forehead…your chest…your belly. “You just lie there and I’ll make it better.”

The smile on your lips slowly faded as you started to drift off. I pulled your shirt up to kiss you sweetly while my hand reached out to search the now-emptied glass. Carefully grasping a slippery piece of ice, I tossed it in my mouth and then bent down to kiss you again.

Your back arched as my tongue, cold from the ice, darted across your hot skin. I tickled and kissed a line from your belly button to the top of your jeans before the ice had completely melted.

“Babyyy…?” you asked, moaning with the kisses. “Shhhh, lover, it’s alright,” I replied as I pulled at your belt buckle, coaxing the strap slowly out of the loops. The metal bars smacked together with a chink-clink-chink that reminded me of sex and blow jobs. I pulled your jeans open and gently tugged down your briefs to kiss the soft red hair that was hiding below. Your legs parted and you gasped as my tongue inched closer.

With a quick tug, your pants and briefs were down around your thighs, and I snuck another piece of ice into my mouth. I easily pinned you in place with a knee between your thighs and spread you open to let the ice drip onto your exposed lips. As the icy water hit your hot pink flesh, you cried out, but you were too tired to throw me off. I let the ice slide between my lips and then pressed it against you, slowly, pushing it inside. As soon as it was in, I moved to lick your clit and eased a finger inside to play with the quickly melting ice. Cold water ran down my wrist as I picked up another piece. I arched my finger and rubbed your soft, spongy folds, listening to you breathe faster and faster. I shoved another sliver of ice into you as your moans became louder, your hips forgetting exhaustion as they began to rock and buck with my strokes. Watching your face twist with sweet torment, I let a second finger join the first in a frenzy of desire. It felt so strange, the cold and hot together inside you, but then I felt the first wave hit you as your hips bucked up and you let out a long, low moan. I stroked you hard and fast, my fingers dancing to the music of your cries, as you slammed down against me, burying my hand inside you and squeezing with all your strength. I could feel the ripples of pleasure running through you, making you cry out “baby, baby, baby, babyyyyyyyyyyyyy” and I stroked your belly and hips to be close to your heat. As your waves subsided, the last of the ice, now warm, so warm, trickled out along my arm and I watched you fade back into a thankful summer sleep.

With a grateful kiss, I gently eased out and lay down next to you to share the waning afternoon light.

Inside

2009-02-20T11:39:00.001-08:00

I’m crying now, which makes it hard to type because I can’t see the screen and my fingers are salt-sticky against the keys. And I want to laugh because that first sentence took me 10 attempts to get it right, and the irony would be delicious if it weren’t so painful. I’ve just told my love that I don’t know if I can bear the intensity of loving him.

This is sure sign that I’m insane. Or evil. Or both.

I feel lost and low and so incredibly awful – how dare I start something I couldn’t finish? Who gave me the right to come in and ask for more and more and more – and get it – and then drop it all in a heap by the door with hardly a thank you?

I’m selfish and awful and mean and horrible and I want so desperately to hold him to me and tell him it’s all going to be ok. He said, “I’m not going anywhere,” and I couldn’t say it back. Because I’m a coward. I’m a coward and a wimp.

Sure, I can take fire and beatings and electric shocks and nipple clamps and knives but god save you if you try to make me feel something inside. The intensity of love and need and want is so strong that it tears me apart, fiber by fiber. We share so much, but I crave more and ache for a life we can’t live together. Without him I would feel a gaping loss, but, slowly, I could forget the burning need I felt last night when our hands touched together on screens hundreds of miles apart.

But I do have a small shred of redeeming decency in me, a little voice compelling me to choose. I owe him more than wallowing in my sadness – he deserves a stronger partner… or release. A decision I’ll be faithful to, a choice I will not revisit every time the going gets tough.

And so I sit and cry.

And think, and cry.

And think.

And cry.

*
*
*
*

“Kyle, I love you more than the mountains are wide between us. I’m sorry I scared you.

Would you please come inside?”

Be My Valentine

2009-02-14T09:15:00.001-08:00

Last night, my husband brought me roses, chocolate and Sports Illustrated:

It's a tradition with us that birthdays and Valentine's Day are celebrated with flowers and porn. Before you object that SI isn't real porn, I'll let you in on a little secret. For a couple of years they've been featuring gorgeously painted women after the usual bikini shots. Take a beautiful woman and airbrush her and I. Go. Out. Of. My. Mind - I simply cannot get enough. I'm a lucky wife to have a husband who knows me so well.

I wish you all a very Happy Valentine's Day and hope you get exactly what your heart desires.

xoxoxoxoxo

Hiccup

2009-02-11T10:09:00.000-08:00

i was lying in bed with Kyle, enjoying the warmth of his body and the sweetsticky curves of his thighs when he kissed me and said,

“Baby, I want you to taste me.”

i gazed into his eyes and tried for all the world to look suave and sexy, while my stomach was trying for a world record high dive. i kissed his lips, his neck, his chest, his belly and then stopped just short of heaven.

Why would i do that?

Well, let’s have a listen in on my inner thoughts at this particular moment, shall we?

“Omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg…”

You see, after 25 years of imagining, wanting, fantasizing, dreading, needing, avoiding, reading about, desiring, fearing and trying desperately to get to this moment, i was a bit, shall we say, um….nervous.

What if i did it wrong? What if i didn’t like it? What if *he* didn’t like it? What if i made a fool of myself? What if i disappointed him?

And the big one:

What if i’m not really gay? Then what will we do for the next 16 hours, huh? Play Parcheesi?!!

Now one thing you should know about me is that when i’m nervous i hold my breath. i’m actually quite good at it, after years of singing and theatre and swimming in pools where i was the smallest one and therefore the most obvious target of that popular kid game “drown the geek.”

So, as i was kissing my way down his body, outwardly the adoring lover and inwardly the panicking 13-year-old, i was also holding my breath. For a very, very long time.

So, when i finally parted those beautiful lips and pressed a tentative tongue against soft pink flesh, that celestial symphony raised their golden instruments to accompany my long-awaited entry into the queer society and…

i started hiccupping.

i started hiccupping and couldn’t stop.

The symphony put down their instruments and went out for a smoke.

i started hiccupping because, boys and girls, that’s the way my body deals with a lack of oxygen.

To say that i was mortified leaves out oh, so many levels and gradations of embarrassment and frustration.

But Kyle wrapped me in his arms, and stroked me and told me it was ok, he understood. He kissed me and shushed my protestations of failure and encompassed me with love.

You may be asking yourselves, why would i want to share this painful tale? Even Kyle was kind enough to leave this little incident out of his recounts of our time together (here and here.) But, luvs, in the real world, outside of sex blogs with fantasies of perfect couplings and beautiful endings, things often do not go nearly as well as you’d imagined, no matter how hard you try. It’s good to remember that, in the end, the connection and love between two people is far more meaningful than the way they bump and grind.

And, you know what? i tried again, later, and it was absolutely beautiful. But that’s a story for another day.

Bliss

2009-02-08T07:21:00.000-08:00

Yesterday there was a negative tide along the California coast, so we packed up the family and headed out to Half Moon Bay's Pillar Point - a wonderful place for tidepooling. The weather was gorgeous, and, although the water was frigid, no one minded because it was so sunny. We scrambled over the rocks, trying not to squash the mussels, anemones, crabs, snails, nutibranchs, urchins and sea stars as we raced around from one amazing discovery to another. The kids and my husband were up to their knees in water, shouting and pointing, as i raced from one to the next, recording each new find. We'd been to Pillar Point before, but never when the water level was so low.

i had my camera with me, of course, and took a few pictures (ok, 400.) Here is a small subset that captures the incredible beauty of the Northern California coastline.

We thought this rock looked surprisingly like a skull:

What that pier looks like close up:

Good Morning

2009-02-07T07:33:00.000-08:00

As i opened my eyes this morning, this was the sunrise that greeted me. Those are my wisteria in the foreground, reaching and bickering for attention like beautiful, spoiled children. They fight me all year, invading the apricot tree and attacking passing joggers, but then, in April or May, they win me over with those beautiful hanging chandeliers of blooms that fill the neighborhood with a musky sweet scent that makes people think of tossing off sweaters and filling their senses with springtime.

Good morning.

HNT - Tied

2009-02-04T21:49:00.000-08:00

When i went to visit Kyle in Washington, i brought him a beautiful black and blue tie, which he wore to dinner and then dancing. He looked *gorgeous*. Back at the hotel, we fell into bed together, kissing and pulling off clothes, desperate to indulge in a little dessert. He looked so good with just a shirt and tie that i asked him for a picture. Here's the stunning, gender-queering result:

i'm thrilled to be able to share how beautiful Kyle is with all of you. You know, sometimes, if you're lucky, inside of that sexily masculine guy, there's a delicately beautiful woman just waiting to be exposed.

Yes

2009-02-04T00:01:00.000-08:00

It was you,
soft and pleading,
“Baby,”
in the morning light -
the sight of your warm, pink skin
rising and falling
against the silhouettes of barren black trees.

At the edge of the precipice, my nerves rippling with electricity,
i tumbled down into you,
past mountains of unknown fears
and came to rest against a strong fiery thigh.
“Baby,” you purred,
as my tongue sang wicked songs
to your wanton shadows,
fingers groping their way inside,
pressing, reaching, thrusting, rubbing
leaving me unable to speak except to repeat,
over and over,

“beautiful.”

“Beautiful, beautiful love,”
my prayer of thanksgiving, whispered in reverence,
as silent music pulsed through you in waves,
your body danced,
rolling and bucking as your moans became
an opera of pleasure.
Inside you, a part of you,
i held your hand and kissed your chest.
Oh, rapturous woman, lush and deep,
i was waiting all these years for you
and you have blessed me with ecstasy
and stillness
and
the answer to my question.

How could i not have known? The answer had always been

Yes.

Fire at the Playbutch Mansion

2009-02-03T09:18:00.000-08:00

Dateline: February 3, 2009

Washington, USA

Standing outside the smoldering ruins of his palatial estate, International Playbutch Kyle Jones spoke to reporters as he tried to make sense of it all.

“This is a complete surprise to me. I heard something that sounded like rockets, ran outside and then BOOM! My house was on fire. I can’t believe she had something to do with it.”

Jones is referring to his one-time lover, roxy, now sought by authorities for questioning in the case.

“Why she would do this to me I just don’t know,” he said, shaking his rakishly handsome head, “I guess I just never considered what she was capable of.”

This reporter was able to secure an interview with someone who identified herself only as “r” and claimed to be the spokesperson for a group calling itself the “Enemies of Jones.”

“We banded together because we want the world to know the truth about Kyle. Sure, in public he seems to be easy-going...friendly...sexy...handsome...but there’s a dark underbelly that people never see.”

Holding back tears, she continued. “How many compliments can a girl take before her breaking point, huh? How many times can she hear ‘good morning, beautiful’ before she loses it? For the love of god, there are only so many orgasms a person can have!”

As she fell to the floor in hysterics, she spit out in anger, “Damn him, he called me scrumtulescent! I can’t even pronounce it!”

Another member of the group came to her side and helped her up, “you can see the depths he sinks to. We knew we had to act before he did this to any more unsuspecting girls. Sure, he’s charming, but before you know it he’s treating you like a human being. Respect! Understanding! There is no limit to how low he’s willing to go.”

Wonderful Wonderful

2009-02-02T10:13:00.001-08:00

This weekend i flew to see Kyle and it was wonderful, wonderful. my mind’s on fire with thoughts and feelings zooming and darting around like dragonflies on speed. Such an incredible high, far better than i could have imagined, followed by the intense, heavy sadness of leaving…it’s going to take awhile to try to set it to screen, but, with all the setup and delicious anticipation, it seems only fair to share a little.

Kyle met me at the airport. He was leaning against a column looking very, very cowboy, and i took this picture when everyone had passed by:

i don’t remember how i got that last 20 feet – floating perhaps – but suddenly i was in his arms we kissed and it was velvet Pop Rocks sour candy heaven, sweet and lush and exploding with desire. Beautiful green eyes gazing at me, into me, reaching around and caressing me soft and tight. Strong arms, gorgeous shoulders, holding me, making me feel beloved and very small. And i’m not small for anyone – i stand tall and strong and take care of myself – but suddenly i was letting someone else be larger than life for me and it felt… wonderful.

The hand-holding, lacing fingers together, the fogged-up windows on the truck, the hotel room, dinner in the dimly-lit restaurant talking and singing along with the piano player, the bar, the dancing, sleeping side by side, waking up to one another over and over, pictures and playing and loving and smiling.

So, so much smiling. my face hurts today from all the smiling, as does my hand (he nearly broke it,) but that’s a sexy story for perhaps another day.

i keep looking through the pictures of him, of us, and i’m smiling still. He is beautiful, far more so than he realizes, so handsome, so lush, so lovelywonderful. i can’t quite remember now what i hoped this weekend would be, but i know it was nowhere near what it became. my already-passionate feelings went higher, deeper, fuller and knocked down some of the walls in my psyche that i set up to protect myself against this very type of onslaught of love. Today i feel open to feelings like i’ve never felt before – this morning, i felt the cold and had to wear a jacket, and, you should know…i never feel the cold.

And, although it seems so unimportant now, i went from roxy-who-might-or-might-not-really-like-girls-in-the-flesh to roxy-holy-fuck-girls-are-really-great-please-please-let’s-not-ever-stop. Of course i knew how i felt, but now i know those feelings translate to actions and those actions translate to love.

i earned my patch and i sank softly into a deep, lasting passion. What, what a weekend.