Two weeks ago today...

I had surgery to remove all my female reproductive organs. See previous posts. Oh look, it's still Thursday (but less than an hour to go until Friday). I meant to write this post earlier today, but it's my first day this week online and I got distracted with emails and of course the Facebork.

Yesterday (Wednesday 18 Feb) I saw the gynecologic oncologist for my post surgery checkup. All is well, more or less. There was indeed cancer in the endometrium, as he suspected there might be. It was stage 2 (of 3), so that's a little bit more frightening than had it only been stage 1. However, there was no cancer in the muscle of the uterus or in any of the lymph nodes he removed. He couldn't get to the lymph nodes on my left side because I have some wicked scarring in there. I have no idea how the scar tissue developed. Weird. Anyway, he saw no more cancer besides what was involved in the endometrium. Good news.

However, the cancer might return. Where? I ask, because I have no more uterus or ovaries or fallopian tubes to get the cancer. Ah, but there's still the vagina, he says. Oh. That would be very bad. I have no further need of the uterus, ovaries, or fallopian tubes. The vagina, on the other hand, still plays an important role in my life. And in Superman's life. The doctor says the greatest chance of developing cancer is in the next two years, so he wants to see me every three months for the next two years to continue monitoring the situation.

I thought once I lost the cervix (it's part of the uterus, so it is gone) I'd be done with PAP smears. No such luck, because now they'll PAP the vagina. Oh well. Probably not as uncomfortable as the cervical PAP. I hope.

I'm frankly a bit scared about recurrence. For years I figured I'd probably end up with some kind of cancer. The odds being what they are. Now I have had cancer, it's been surgically removed, and there appears to be no more of it in my body. Also, no further treatment is necessary. But now that I have had cancer, I'm afraid it might return. I really don't want any more cancer, thankyouverymuch. Haven't I paid my dues, Life? Eh, Life doesn't work that way. Life works thusly: Shit Happens. Sometimes it's good shit, sometimes it's bad shit, but shit continues to happen.

Speaking of shit happening; COLD. Today's high temp didn't quite reach freezing. That's very rare for our part of South Carolina. Tonight's low forecast is 11F. I know many of my blog buddies north of here are experiencing much colder temps, but by gosh, this is pretty cold for us. Dearest Daughter Light in western Pennsylvania hasn't seen anything close to above freezing in I don't know how long. It's amazing. Below zero Fahrenheit. Wicked whipping winds blowing snow horizontally. As of yesterday she was still alive. Haven't heard from her today, and I assume no news is good news. Surely she'd let me know if she froze to death, right? She fell on the ice last week, but didn't do any more harm than a couple of scrapes and bruises. Poor Ron, retired in Delaware, messed up his knee falling on the ice.

With this cold weather we got a bit of precipitation Monday. Freezing rain, which is the curse of the south. It rarely snows, but we get our share of freezing rain. Thankfully the roadways were warm enough to not ice over in most of this area. Just a bit north, in Greenville and Spartanburg counties, they had road ice. Anyway, the power lines iced up as did trees. We lost power for about four hours Tuesday morning, from 7:20 to 11:20, and that was a lot less time than some folks did. The houses across the street evidently are on a different trunk line or something, because the neighbor lost power at midnight Monday night/Tuesday morning. The power outage wasn't such a big deal, but the cable outage was. We get our internet through the cable company. No TV, no big deal. No internet, BIG deal! The internet came back yesterday late morning, but I had a doctor's appointment in the early afternoon and after that I was reading, so didn't hit the internet until this afternoon.

The recovery time for my surgery (I changed topics again) is from two to six weeks. The doctor has increased my maximum weight lifting limit. It was 10 lbs, is now 15 lbs. Also, I can drive again. In celebration (or something) I went to the grocery today. I had Superman bring home the two gallons of milk we needed when he came home for lunch, because milk is heavy. I got a few things this afternoon. It was my first time out by myself since before the surgery. Yesterday going to the doctor was my first time out of the house since I got home from the hospital two weeks ago Friday. As I may have mentioned here before, I have a touch of agoraphobia. I feel more comfortable at home. Don't like to go out, especially to large crowded spaces. Some days Wal-Mart freaks me the hell out. Today I went to Aldi, which is much smaller, and I went between 2 and 3 o'clock when the store was sparsely populated. Even then, by the time I got to the check out line the anxiety was ratcheting up. I managed to get home OK, though, and didn't take any anxiety meds. So good for me.

Per Herr Doctor's orders, I still need to "take it easy." Not lift more than 15 lbs for the next four weeks, so no going back to the gym for weight machines. I can walk the treadmills, though, and that would be a good idea. They had told me before surgery that I couldn't resume sexual intercourse for six weeks, so I said something to the doc yesterday about only four more weeks for that. Nope, now I have to wait six weeks from yesterday to have sex. Shit. This is turning into a depressingly celibate winter. At least we can still snuggle.

A Haiku, dedicated to my friends and relatives suffering in the winter weather up north:

Wicked whipping wind
Blows snow horizontally.
Damn, it's cold out there! 

More information: this time a sex-positive message

As if you didn't know by now, I have a sex-positive philosophy.



I could expound on my philosophy of sex, and maybe one day I will. But not today. I'm too tired and distracted.

"This was inevitable" (perhaps NSFW)

While surfing the web for pictures for a class assignment, I came across a website called The SnuggySutra. "You have a Snuggie. You have sex. This was inevitable."

Here are a couple of examples.

The Cuddle Puppy

The man wears the Snuggie on his front and covers her. She feels warm and cozy like Grandma’s house, but still knows who her daddy is.

The Chaps

The woman wears the Snuggie on her back and covers her partner with the rest. She won’t miss a minute of Sex In The City and he won’t miss the tattoo of her ex’s name on her ass.

I will not be using any images from this website for my class assignment. It's not that kind of class.

Circle of Friends Award

Mr. Larry Ohio passed onto RG a Circle of Friends Award and RG passed onto me a Circle of Friends Award. What's really cool is that Ultra Dave also passed on this Circle of Friends Award. I feel so loved! So I must name five things I enjoy and pass on my own Circle of Friends Awards. Cool, huh?

This is a good exercise for me. Lately I've not had much enjoyment in my life. It's been a hard year. I seem to have forgotten how to enjoy myself. Let's try this. In no particular order, here are five things that I enjoy:

1. Blogging I really enjoy reading other blogs and getting to know other bloggers. I'm particularly fond of gay men. I like men in general for many reasons, and now that I've discovered all these wonderful blogs written by gay men, I'm in a fairy-land heaven.

2. Learning new things I'm very curious. I love to learn about stuff, typically the less pertinent it is to real life, the better. Trivia and such, you know. But I also enjoy gaining knowledge, exercising my brain. Sometimes I'm not so fond of it when I'm in the midst of the mental crunches, but I like the results.

Aside: There's a difference between "like" and "enjoy." Maybe not for you, but as I consider what to write here, the distinction seems important.

3. Laughing This is a broad entry, as it encompasses many things. I like to laugh at funny stories, funny movies, funny pictures, my husband laughing (he's very silly), and the irony of life. I get the "laughter is the best medicine" kind of body work-out when I laugh at the funny stuff. When I laugh at life's ironies, though, it's more like "I laugh to keep from crying." Both kinds of laughter are good, but in different ways. A corollary: I enjoy making people laugh. I like being funny and inducing laughter in others, especially the times when I get them to see something from a new perspective.

4. Helping others I get the greatest sense of satisfaction when I'm able to help someone. It means a lot to me when I can make a positive difference in the lives of others. And it's much easier for me to give help than to receive it.

5. Sex I mean, really. I recently saw this analogy: "It's as boring as married sex." HA! Married sex does not have to be boring. Really good sex is, well, really good. Even if there isn't much variety, if it's really really good, variety isn't that important. Go with what works, you know? If it ain't broke, keep doin' it. And that's all I have to say about that.

So now it's time for me to pass on this Circle of Friendship Award. I bestow this award on

Greg at The Midnight Garden. He loves to garden, loves plant and animal life in general, he's a gentle and loving soul who lives on Cape Cod year 'round. He has been a good friend and sounding board for me since I first discovered him about 18 months ago. His cheerful approach to life is inspiring.

Patrick at Loose Ends. Patrick is one of the few bloggers I've met face-to-face. He gives great hugs. He has passion for life, though he suffers from dark times. He and I have similar depression monsters that haunt our souls. He's a New York City resident who loves trees and nature and paths that lead to mysterious places.

Bigg at Bigg on Life. An interesting fellow, writes very well and has fascinating stories to tell. He's a cancer survivor. He and his partner are of different generations, and it amazes me how in love they are. He was married to a woman (gasp) and has a few kids. He loves the kids.

Rox at Heart in Hand. She's one of them Canadians you hear so much about. She lives way on up there in Canada, too, not like 15 minutes from the U.S. border or anything. She sees a lot of snow. She's an amazing woman, making her life with her husband and two daughters as peaceful and happy as possible. Sometimes it's not so peaceful, but it is a life, and the love she has for her family is obvious.

Kevin at la Casa del Retardo. He's a curmudgeonly gent who along with his partner is raising four children they adopted. He writes well when he writes, and he keeps threatening to quit blogging. He needs us, though, and hasn't been able to make the break yet. He has a small but loyal following. Though he tries to disguise it, there's something very lovable about him. He'll deny it, though.

These are my choices. If any of these folks wants to take up the challenge and post this on their blogs, that's great. If they choose not to, that's great too. I'm easy like that.

Meanwhile, back at the bawdy house

I talked to Superman about half an hour ago. He had this bombshell to drop: Diva has been having sex with one of the other 5th grade boys from our neighborhood. Yes, Diva, who will be 11.5 on the 4th of June. How did we discover this? The "young man's" parents came 'round to let us know about it. They just discovered the indiscretion themselves, following up on a rumor they'd overheard. From what Superman told me, the boy's parents were very nice, very concerned (of course) and felt that as her parents, we really needed to know what is going on. 

So now we know. Are we surprised? No. Are we distressed? You had better believe it! Do we know what the hell to do about it? No. I expected something like this, really, just not so soon. 

I'm still reeling. Superman is still reeling. My mind is buzzing with ideas, options, possibilities, worst case scenarios. And we will think about it tomorrow. And the next day. And this too shall pass, eventually. I'm just afraid it will be replaced with something worse. 

No, I can't think about it right now. I'll explode. 

Gawd, I wish I was making this up. 

Disturbia in Javaland

I'll get to the disturbia momentarily, but first a word about school. I had a great day at school today. My other two classes met, and I think Tues/Thurs will be my favorite days. I wondered around the student center today, making more of an exploration than I have before. I ate lunch in the main dining hall. Y'all!! The food at Lander is good!!   Someone told me there is a dining plan I can buy, even as a commuter student. It's called something like the 50/50 plan, where for $50 I get 50 meals during the semester. It sounds too good to be true. I need to see the head of dining services, and she was busy when I went to check it out, and I didn't wait. I'll go back and see probably tomorrow. 

Now to the disturbia-

Diva (the daughter who just had her 11th birthday three weeks before Christmas) was home for an hour or so before I got home. I went from school to the high school to pick up Twitch and we didn't get home until just after 4. Diva usually gets home between 2:45 and 3:00. When Twitch and I got home Diva came around from the back yard with her book bag on her back, saying she was waiting for us to get home so she could get in. Well, the door wasn't locked, and she said she saw it closed and assumed it was locked. Whatever. No red flag, but duly noted. 

The mail was on the kitchen table, so I assumed Superman had come home for lunch or something. Duly noted. 

Came back to my room and saw my laptop on the desk/tray that I use when I'm using the computer in bed. The laptop was closed, but the power indicator light was on. I know I turned it off before I left home. So I opened the computer and saw Superman was logged on. Hmmm, he must have been online when he was home for lunch. Duly noted. I opened his user page (or whatever it's called) to see if I could close things down before opening mine. Well, there was a web page opened, an order page with an error message saying the credit card information is incorrect. I also notice that it's Internet Explorer. He always uses Firefox. I always use Google Chrome. Hmmm. Red flag. I looked carefully at this order page. What do you know! It has Diva's full name as the person ordering whatever it was. Big red flag! And all the other "duly noted" items are becoming red flags. So I check the URL, what exactly was she trying to order? Pornhub.com!

Shit! Then I checked the history. She doesn't know how to erase history yet. Please don't tell her. Here's the history of today's activity:

Most recent lesbian videos-pornhub.com

Free live video chat-PornHubLive

No results found

Join Membership Plus

Full Free Porn Videos & DVD – Sex, Porno, Porn Tube, Free XXX Porn

Sex- Google Search        

No Results Found – Pornhub.com

Search Videos ( 6 of these in a row)

Join Membership Plus – Full Free Porn Videos & DVD – Sex, Porno, Porn Tube, Free XXX Porn

Search Videos

Fling.com Registration Form – Adult Dating & Sex Personals for Women, Men, Swingers, Couples

Fling.com – World’s Best Personals

Personalized Start Page

Shit! This is not good. I need to address this, but how? I doubt a spanking will do much good. She won't listen to a reasoned argument. I could talk until I'm blue in the face, she'd stare at me with glazed eyes and absorb nothing. There are many issues here as well. In addition to her looking up porn she also used my laptop without permission, lied, went into my bedroom when she's not allowed to, subjected the computer to infection by viruses and worms and stuff. I'm not sure how to proceed, but I think I need to calm down, cool off, and gather my wits about me before I confront her. 

Suggestions are welcome. 

Stay calm

I don't even know where to start. It's Diva. She's growing up too fast. I don't mean in that "what a sweet girl, it seems like just yesterday she was but a wee thing" way. If only. 

She is in the 5th grade at the elementary school a few blocks down the street. Her 11th birthday is less than a month away. She likes to ride bikes, watch cartoons, and is crazy about Hannah Montana. 

Evidently she is also crazy about a boy in her class at school. 

Last Thursday morning at about 10:30 I got a call from her teacher. She said that she'd intercepted a note that Diva wrote to "another student in the class" that was of a sensitive nature. The teacher wouldn't come right out and say what exactly my dear child said. But she said she'd send the note home to me in a large sealed manila envelope. OK. I debated whether to go over to the school and try to get it myself before Diva had a chance to "lose" it. I decided to wait.

When Diva arrived home at 3:00 that afternoon she was all sweet and smiley. She is usually a cheerful child, unless she's pouting about something specific. Without waiting for me to ask for it, she produced the large envelope from her book bag. Sproing made some excuse about going to see his friend and bounced out of the house. Good. I didn't want him involved in whatever this turned out to be. 

I opened the package to find a nice stationery envelope with the name of the object of her affection (misspelled, I think. She pronounces his name with an "n" in it, but there was no such letter in the address). To give further clue to what I didn't want to think, there was a big luscious lipstick kiss across the flap of the envelope. Where did this child learn about sealing a letter with a kiss?? Inside the envelope were two pieces of the matching note paper (mine, which she took without permission, but that's so beyond the point). On the first page was scribbled in green marker "XXXXXXX means kiss  100x's  100 kiss's" It looks much more random on the note paper than I can make it look typed out like this. But that's the message, loud and clear.

So I brought forward the second page. It says, in green magic marker, "Do you want to have sex? Yes or No   roomers"

Oh, shit. Deep breath, Mom. Don't yell. Remain calm whatever you do!

I was sitting in the chair I'm in right now, her standing beside me. I took a few breaths. And said "Um, Diva?  Um, wha'... um... who... um, ah, ..." No good. Try again. "Diva, um, how... wha'..." This isn't going well. By this time I'm holding my forehead with my left hand, the notes in my right. "Ah, Diva, um, did you, ah, ...um... We need to talk about this." Good move Mom. You can't even speak. I don't remember if I made any coherent sentences after that until I told her to go to her room. I was calm as I said it. In retrospect I realize I should have said "We need to talk about this, but I need some time to gather my thoughts." Well, my thoughts weren't gathered enough to say that, but whatever.

I didn't have the heart to call Superman. I didn't want to tell him over the phone, you know? Eventually he came home. Diva was in her room most of the rest of the afternoon, and ended up cleaning her room very well. Her Dad came home, she was out of her room, we had supper, life happened. Of course I told Superman about it, had showed him the notes by then. I knew we needed to discuss this before she went to bed.

As the kids were beginning to get ready for bed around 8:00 I called Diva into my room. Superman and I were sitting on the bed. I was calm. I asked her about the notes. We talked. I was calm. She answered my questions. After some bit of discussion something she said prompted me to ask her what she meant by the question. Was she curious about his intent, or was she inviting him to have sex with her? Her eyes brightened up and she said, "Yes, I wanted to know. See, that's what I wrote there," pointing to the word "roomers." Then she read the note to me, filling in a whole sentence that contained the word "rumors" and indicating she had heard that he wanted to have sex with her. She was just curious about it. 

The child lies with astonishing frequency. I could tell, however, that she was being totally honest about her intent. I suspect she was a bit befuddled about all this fuss. The teacher had discussed it, I had been unable to clearly speak when I read the note, she'd spent the afternoon in her room, and now we were having one of those infamous "discussions" that parents have with their children. But I was calm. Superman sat on the bed and didn't say a word that I can recall. He didn't know what to say, either. 

These are a few of the things we talked about. I asked does she know what sex is? Yes. What? Rather hesitant and embarrassed she said "When a boy sticks his dick in my, um, you know, privates." OK, she's got that one pretty much figured out. "Have you ever had sex before?" I ask, masking my fear. "NO! Ewww." Oh, thank Gawd. 

I talked about how old one should be to have sex, what state of a relationship one should have before becoming intimate. I always try to ask her questions (I am the question queen, after all) to get her to participate in these discussions. If I just drone on, she tunes me out. It is so hard to make this stuff applicable to a child her age. I tried to tell her about how a sexual relationship involves complex emotions that children aren't able to handle. The thing is, at her stage of emotional development she doesn't have the maturity to understand that it takes maturity to successfully enter into a consenting sexual relationship. Half the stuff I said to her probably went right over her head. I realized as I was speaking the words that she wouldn't understand them. I repeated myself, trying to simplify with each repetition. The dear child watched me with rapt attention, a very unusual state for her. 

At one point during the conversation when I was talking about writing notes to boys (Don't!) she said "Do you want to see the other notes I wrote to him?" I remain calm. "Yes, I would." She runs out of the room, Superman and I look at each other, and I whisper "There are more????"

The one note in question had the number 3 written in the upper right corner of the envelope. Yep, the third of six notes. None of the rest had been opened. I calmly told her I'll hang on to these notes, since it isn't proper for her to be writing notes to the boys right now. Y'all, I haven't had the guts to open the other envelopes! And number 6 is addressed to this boy's mom and dad! I still have them all right here. 

One thing I don't want to do is fill her head with fear and superstitions about sex. Respect, yes. Outlandish unhealthy ideas, no. I told her that now is about the right time for her to start to think about boys (or girls, as the case may be. You know I'm cool either way. But since the note was written to a boy, I didn't bring that up.) and about being in love. But it's the time to just think about it, not do anything! This is a time for young boys and girls to practice these emotions, and it will take a lot of time to figure it all out. Take your time, child, don't be in such a rush!! No, I didn't say that out loud. Do you think she heard me thinking it?

So that's where we stand now. A week later and all seems calm. This is not the end. The next 7-8 years are gonna be real doozies. 

Per request

A brief explanation about how I came to have sex in a cemetery

A post full of linky love

It was 1981, if that makes any difference. I was 19 years old and in a rather strange relationship with a young man named Joe Choo. Of Chinese extraction and from Malaysia, Joe had come to Macon, GA to attend Mercer University. I was a freshman in my second term at Mercer that spring, and had been dating Joe, mostly living with him and his brother Edwin for most of the winter and spring until I wised up and left his sorry ass. The story is much more complicated than that, of course, but has nothing to do with having sex in the cemetery. 

Macon, GA is a very large town rich in history.  When General Sherman marched to the sea from Atlanta, he bypassed Macon. We are all thankful for that, I suppose. Macon has some gorgeous antebellum architecture that otherwise would have been destroyed. 

Macon is also rich in dead people. Old cities tend to do that. The largest and oldest cemetery in town (as far as I know) is Rose Hill Cemetery. It is built (are cemeteries "built"?) on the hillside overlooking the Ocmulgee River that runs through Macon. It's very beautiful and much like a park.

Irrelevant fact: One of the most famous graves there is that of Duane Allman of the Allman Brothers Band. 

Back in the early 1980s when I lived in Macon, this cemetery was the prettiest park-like place to visit. Lots of the students from Mercer would come to the cemetery for picnics, Frisbee-golf, or other instances of fooling around. It is private property and should be respected as reverently as is due a cemetery. But we didn't. We were jerks. 

A railroad track runs between the river and the cemetery. Somewhere at the bottom of the cemetery right by the tracks is an area that looks vaguely like this (but not so neat). This one happens to be the Allman grave site. But pay attention to that retaining wall. Joe and I found a secluded area with a wall similar to this one. I think we had a picnic there. But one thing led to another and as young lovers will we ended up playing hide the sausage. He had me sitting on the wall, which was not the most comfortable perch. Except for the engineer in the train that passed by, no one saw us. (oops) So I guess I was caught having sex in the weirdest place I ever had sex. The experience is memorable, but not for quality of the sex. For good quality sex I'd have to tell a different story, probably one that didn't include Joe Choo. 

A meme of the TMI persuasion

Stolen from Erik who stole it from Alexander, I present a TMI. I promise it isn't terribly painful for those of you who go all ewww over straight sex.

“Adult Questions - Don’t Be a Pussy” meme. I’m not going to tag anyone on this, but feel free to steal it and provide your own answers.

1. Is there anyone on your blogroll you would have sex with?
That I can neither confirm nor deny. I think a more pertinent question is would anyone on my blog roll have sex with me?

2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night? Yes!

3. Have you ever had to pull over on the side of the road to puke?
Not that I recall

4. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money?
No

5. Shower or bath while having sex?
Haven't, but would consider doing it in the shower.

6. Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?
Yes

7. Do you love someone on your blogroll?
In the larger sense of love, yes, quite a few. In the more intimate sense, no.

8. Love or Money?
Love, definitely

9. Credit cards or cash?
Debit and my PIN

10. Have you ever wanted a best friend?
Yes

11. Camping or a 5 star hotel? It depends on my mood and my stress level and whether I plan to have lots of sex. The hotel for sex. Those beds are much more comfortable and the linens are provided and laundered.

12. Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?
Probably in the cemetary.

13. Would you shave your entire body (including your head)?
No

14. Have you ever been to a strip club?
No

15. Ever been to a bar?
Yes

16. Ever been kicked out of a bar or a club?
No

17. Ever been so drunk someone else had to carry you?
No

18. Had sex in a movie theater?
No

19. Had sex in a bathroom?
Oh, that was a good one!

20. Have you ever had sex at work?
No, but wanted to.

21. Ever been to an adult store?
Yes

22. Bought something from an adult store?
Yes

23. Have you been caught having sex ?
By my children!!

24. Does anyone have naughty pics of you?
Define naughty.

25. Ever had sex with someone and called them by the wrong name? No

This just in

ISTANBUL (Reuters) - A small hotel on Turkey's Mediterranean coast has fired all its male employees for repeatedly having affairs with foreign female guests, the manager said on Wednesday.

Pelin Yucel, manager of Image Hotel in Marmaris, said her 27-room hotel now only employs female staff. Most of the guests are British and Russian tourists, she said.

"We had been facing the same problem every year but after the last incident we decided to run the hotel by only female staff," she told Reuters by phone.

"The last straw was when I saw our bartender, who was a very decent man, walk out of the bathroom with a British tourist," Yucel was quoted in the media as saying.

Around 20 million tourists visited Turkey last year, many of them drawn by its sandy beaches and turquoise waters.

(Editing by Paul Casciato)

© Thomson Reuters 2008 All rights reserved

Well, if she fired the philandering male staff, what's the purpose of going to that hotel anymore?  She obviously didn't realize what a good thing she had going there.  

Suggestive pose

I'm having fun surfing for images this evening. There are lots of interesting pictures on the interweb!

Not today!!

stray dogs and sex education

Diva and Sproing have recently been engaged with a stray dog that showed up over the weekend. He is a medium size black dog who looks like a cross between a Labrador and a basset hound. Yes, strange. The kids want to keep him closed up in our garage. I want the dog to go away. He is a sweet dog and can follow simple commands. He obviously belongs to somebody.

The children also like to play with the neighbor’s dog. This dog, Gabby, lives behind us. Her fenced yard backs against our back yard. Diva and Sproing have figured out how to “accidentally” let Gabby out of her yard. They do this, and then play with her. She’s a playful pup and enjoys the attention.

I was working in the kitchen the other afternoon and the kids were hanging around. We started discussing the black dog. I told them to leave him alone, don’t pay him a lot of attention and don’t feed him! They said he likes to play with Gabby. He likes climbing up on Gabby. I asked for more detail, and Diva said “He’s humping.” Ah, it all makes sense now. Black dog won’t leave soon, not of his own free will.

This of course led to an interesting discussion. I explained that some female animals go into heat when their bodies are ready to make babies. They give off a smell that attracts the male and makes him want to mate with her. Keep it simple but informative, Mom.

This story wouldn’t be blog worthy if it stopped here. No, Diva had another question. Isn’t it wonderful when youngsters are inquisitive? Mom, she says, do people do that too? No, women don’t go into heat. Sex and reproduction work differently in people. I explained that for people, sex is also a way to show love and connect emotionally. But you don’t do that, Mom! Sproing piped up to say we had to do it in order to have Light and Twitch. Ok, Diva conceded that we probably had sex twice. OMG it was all I could do to keep from laughing!

But wait! There’s more! Diva understands that of course Daddy can’t have sex anymore because he had that operation. (squelch snort) Um, that operation just disconnects the tube that carries the sperm that fertilizes the egg in a woman’s body. It doesn’t affect a man’s ability to have sex. She wasn’t so sure. I suspect she still thinks her Daddy can’t have sex. (NOT the way it works honeychile!) Diva wants a baby sister (DEAR GOD NO!!) but since Daddy can’t have sex anymore, that won’t happen.

I got a distinct impression from this conversation with Sproing and Diva: there is obviously no reason for their Mom and Daddy to have sex.

Do you ever wish you were a fly on the wall in this house?

Do you remember? Random brain firings

-I want my milk delivered. Who remembers milk delivery? We had an insulated milk box on our front porch, a square cube of approximately 16 inches. I remember being in trouble with my grandmother one Sunday morning. She spanked me (!! it was the softest spank I ever remember, and the only specific spanking I remember. Effective lady, my grandmommie) and sent me out to sit on the milk box. I was 4 years old. We moved from that house a year later and I have never had milk delivery since.

-S gave me his old camera case for my little digital camera. It is made by Samsonite. This little soft-sided case is not the image that immediately comes to mind when I think "Samsonite." Who remembers the Samsonite TV commercial with the gorilla throwing around a suitcase in his cage?

-My darling mother took a picture of my messy room when I was in my early teens. She said she'd save it to show to my boyfriends when I was older, especially anyone I was real serious about. Now I'm 46 years old and have been married for 25 years. My entire house is at least as messy as that room was. If I recall, Mama never showed that picture to Superman. Although the mess is stress inducing to some extent, my wonderful Superman doesn't make a big deal about it. He's not going to leave me because I'm a bad housekeeper. (Damn, he'd have left years ago if that were the case) He stays because he loves me, and I think because I make love to him often. Whatever it is, it works.

-I have an appointment with my therapist this morning. It has been a month since we last met. I want to make sure we meet more frequently. I need her perspective and the questions she asks me.

TMI whenever-I-got-around-to-it

1. Do you have/ever had any dating or sex superstitions? (Wear 'lucky jeans' on first date, always light a vanilla candle, etc.) If so, what are they? No, not that I can remember. Being married for 25 years, the only dates I go on are with my husband, and we can "get lucky" pretty much whenever we want to.
   
2. If you were stranded on the fabled deserted island and a genie appeared who could only grant you one wish — to bring one of the following people to join you, who would it be? Your spouse/significant other, an unrequited love or some person you've had a crush on, an old/past love, or your best friend? My spouse, without hesitation. He's the one I want to spend time with more than anyone else. Sometimes I wish we were stuck on an almost deserted island by ourselves just to get away from the stress in our lives. I say almost deserted, because I'd want regular delivery of fresh food and water (if it were a dry island). Oh, and rum, of course. We could order from a menu of delicious fresh foods, prepared to our specifications. Really, we'd need to be able to order whatever we needed. I'm thinking a nice grilling system would be good. This is a nifty idea for a fantasy. I could spend a while coming up with what all sorts of things I'd like to have available on our lone little island.
   
3. Tell us "weather or not" you're in the mood — how does rain, snow, sleet, scorching heat, sweltering humidity etc. affect your libido.
   
   Scorching heat, sweltering humidity- I'd be suffering celibacy. I cannot get that close to another hot sweaty body when I am hot or sweaty (unless I got hot and sweaty in the first place by having wild sex). However, I love being intimate in cold weather; warming each other with some close skin-to-skin action. Rainy days are a turn-on. Make slow passionate love for a long time, and then take a nap in each other's arms. Snow, sleet- another good time to twist the sheets. I can be turned on in any weather that isn't too hot. Sometimes I wonder how the peoples of hot tropical regions ever procreate.
   
4. Are you a crying drunk, an angry drunk, an 'I'm drunk, let's screw' sort of a drinker? (And, if you do not drink — which one of those things is the reason?) I am a loving lush, and I like to sing along with whatever song I hear. I tend to get all snuggly and profess my love for whomever I'm with.
   
5. Who turns you on the most & why: the activist, the author, the care-giver/healer (nurse, doctor, masseuse, herbalist, chiropractor etc.), the comedian, the educator (professor, teacher, mentor etc.), the model, the musician, the politician, or the scientist? The educator. But he also needs a good sense of humor. I am incredibly turned on by intellectuals, especially if they are at least a little bit humble about it (not stuck up asshats). Most well educated (or over-educated) people I've met tend to have a really good sense of humor. Why the educator? I love learning, I love knowledge. It excites me in lots of ways. And the more other areas of my soul are excited or inspired, the greater the chance I'm going to want sex, too.
   

***Bonus (as in optional): Looking back, what's the one thing you've done which was supposed to be erotic, but didn't quite work out? Fantasy role play. It just does NOT work for me. I'm all about honesty, being true to the real you. Acting is fine on stage or screen, but not in bed.

For weekly TMI Tuesday questions, click here.

Interesting goings on in Scotland

Sex lessons must start at age five

That's the top headline in today's Scotsman.com website.
It goes on to discuss sex education in Scottish schools, how it needs to begin earlier because so many young people are getting the information after it's too late. The headline, though, is a shocker. I guess that's the secret to successful marketing.

My favorite teacher, for reasons unrelated to school

NB: Not recommended reading for those who don't want to know certain things about certain things that I certainly did when I was a certain younger age!

This gets a bit naughty. J His name was Tom F., and he was my biology teacher in 10^th grade. He was 34, short and stocky in a muscular sense, and had curly black hair with a sprinkling of gorgeous silver gray strands. And his smile melted my heart! I started crushing on him early in the year. I'd hang out in his classroom before school along with a few other kids. I did very well in his class; I'm smart like that. The subject interested me, but the teacher captivated me even more.

Sometime shortly after Christmas break he was attacked in the hall during his lunch duty. A group of punk-kid types jumped him and beat him up. He was out of school on whatever they call that leave for over a month, I can't remember exactly how long. I hadn't realized how much I depended on seeing him until he was gone. I missed him; pined for him. I got really brave and called his house! We talked briefly, I asked about his recovery and how long he'd be out. He told me what had happened, and I think he was trying to sue either the school or the boys who attacked him. I forget. Anyway, I called him a few times, not every day or anything, and I don't think I was terribly annoying. I tried not to be! And eventually he came back to school.

And I spent the mornings before school in his classroom. He had an office at the back of the classroom, with a door and everything. It was the science hall, and he had science-y type stuff in there. It was a fairly big office, really. Long and narrow. About half a dozen or so students would hang out in his classroom or office before school. Or after school. Or during lunch. OK, I was the only one who was there during lunch. J

He'd smile real big when he saw me. My heart beat faster, my head spun. The sexual tension was palpable. But nothing ever happened that entire school year.

Until the last day of school. Hehehe I'm getting giddy just remembering it! We had never even touched each other. But on that last day of school I was sitting on the counter in his office and he passed by me to do something at the other end of the office. When he came back by he stopped, turned to face me, and we fell into an embrace. I don't know who made the first move, but there we were, hugging each other tightly. I was sitting on the counter, he was standing in front of me. We held onto each other for a long, long time. I didn't want that hug to end, and didn't know what would happen when it did end. And he smelled so good! His hair was as soft as I'd imagined, and his shoulders were hard and strong.

The next day was a work day for him, but the students were finished. I went over to the school to see him. We were grinning at each other in that way couples do when they are giddy about each other. Details are fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure we hugged some more. I don't remember kisses; there may have been some, maybe not. He kept the classroom door closed and we spent a few hours just being together, talking some, grinning and hugging. One of the other science teachers was a friend of his. (That guy was really cute, too, in a slender blonde way. I'd have done him, given the opportunity! But I didn't.) At one point either that day or the next, the two of them played tennis out on the courts behind the school. I watched. I suspect the other teacher was aware on some level about what was going on, though I wasn't party to any discussion of that nature. He seemed real cool about me hanging around.

And then the school year was over for the teachers, too. Tom was attending the local college part time, working on his master's degree. I think he wanted to teach at the community college level instead of high school. Anyway, he called me a couple of times and I went with him to the library at the college. I also remember collecting wild plant samples with him in a field beside a major highway one afternoon. Very public, no touchie-touchie. Oh, and now I remember we went to a small state park not too far out of town to do more specimen collection. And that afternoon we had a great make-out session in the back of his van. You've been wondering if/when this was gonna get juicy, I know.

He had a full sized van, Ford, manual transmission, white. It was a cargo body style, basically empty in the back. There may have been one bench seat, I forget. That was before the invention of the minivan, and it was nice and roomy in the back. Being a cargo van it only had windows on the doors, and his windows were tinted very dark. Looking good, huh? That afternoon we did some very heavy petting. Got past third base, but were tagged out before making it all the way to home plate. He stopped it. I wanted to go on. That was the day I discovered that he had a few silver hairs in the pubes, too. I thought it was really sexy, but he was self-conscience about it. I was a bit shy then, and didn't express myself well. That was then, this is now, baby! Were it happening today I'd express myself strongly on how much I like those sexy silver pubes. But I'm telling a tale of long ago.

Sometime over the summer I moved from my mama's house to live with my dad in a city about 2.5 hours north. I obviously went to a different school for my junior year, and Tom transferred to another school in that district, one that was closer to his home. I think the attack he experienced the previous year was the official reason he transferred. So neither of us was at the old school.

But I'd go visit my mama every month or so. I remember being at mama's during the week some, or sometime when she was at work anyway. She of course knew nothing about my involvement with Tom. She had known I was fond of him as my biology teacher, and she probably figured out I had a crush on him. She's not as dumb as my naïve teenage ass thought she was. But she never knew about our meetings.

Sometime during that winter I was back in town visiting Mama. I called him and he came by to pick me up. We went to his place. This was the first time we had been alone together when there was no risk of interruption. It was time. He kept the thermostat low and it was cool in his apartment. He had a waterbed. OK, it was the 70s! We got nekkid, got onto that waterbed, and pretty soon it wasn't so chilly in there. And oh, it was good! This wasn't my first sexual encounter, but he was the most experienced partner I'd ever had. I learned a lot. And I remember he had lots of stamina. We played for a couple of hours, and he must have cum 3 or 4 times.

I remember how old he was because he was exactly twice my age. I thought that was pretty hot. He probably thought it was hot that I was half his age. I was impressed at the stamina of such an old guy! (My, how one's perception of age changes with advancing years!)

That was the best hook-up we ever had. We got together a couple of times after that, but there was no spark at all.

When I end the memory there, it is a good memory. But that isn't all there is. I'm leaving out my impressions and the insight of hindsight with advancing maturity. I am also leaving out at least one tiny detail. He was in a long term committed (or not) relationship with another woman. A woman of his age. They got married a couple of years later. I knew about her, though I seriously doubt she knows anything about me. For her sake I hope she doesn't. Of course back then I didn't care if he had a girlfriend or not. That was then, this is maturity. Tom was, I see now, lacking a lot of maturity.

I was naïve and immature in the way I communicated (or didn't) about what I wanted or expected of this relationship. Seriously, I don't think I gave it a lot of thought. Hell, I was 17! But I had some expectations. I knew he was involved with someone else, but I hoped he'd at least give me a little bit of consideration. I did want some shadow of a relationship with him, even if it didn't last long. But to him I was a fantasy. He had no respect for me as a person. He didn't get to know anything about who I really am. And at 17 I had a lot going on in my head. In so many ways I was, even at 17, more mature than he was at twice that age. He never knew. He never cared. His loss, the fool.

The triple necessities

My Superman is not a particularly complicated man. Like most men, in my observation, he has certain needs, mostly simple and very few. As long as these needs are met he functions pretty well. Having these needs met provides a stable foundation for him to deal with the vagaries of life.

My darling has been having a rough time this week. He is experiencing some unusual pains in his legs and has been fatigued. He's not been handling stress well at home or at work. I've been worried about him. I'm not sure all of his basic needs have been met.

This is his triple crown:
1) The man needs hot sauce. He loves heat that makes him sweat and cry. For some strange reason this makes him feel good. I suppose it is those endorphins I've heard so much about.
2) He needs to write. He is a writer and is working on a series of web-based novels involving other authors' copyrighted characters. Fan fiction, in other words. 400,000 words on paper, and counting (Shit, man!). That doesn't include the three short stories he's written, or the fanfic novel sequel to The Incredibles. The story he's currently working on takes up a lot of his brain. The characters have taken over the asylum. They bother him, talk to him, nag him, and insist that he write their story. With all the other responsibilities he has, writing often gets put aside. The longer he goes without writing, the more irritable he is.
3) Sex. Need I say more? And it has been a little while, what with one thing and another. You know how it goes.

Over the course of this past week he had a bowl of chili that he doctored to his heat specifications. I'm not sure if he's had heat besides that, but he at least had some. It isn't hard to get the heat if he realizes he needs it. He has a nice collection of hot sauces. And he has spent one or two evenings writing. He had a very good writing session a few nights ago. The characters are satisfied for now and aren't nagging him too much yet.

Last night we took good care of the other. Really good. He feels so much better this morning! His legs don't even hurt. I tell ya', sex is good for what ails you. (I must say I feel better this morning, too. ;-)