Ever since I have been reading BDSM blogs I have been noticing more and more references to the topic of D/s. I must admit that I am a little curious about lving a D/s lifestyle as I have always been a naturally submissive person. For me, however, I would need the kind of relationship in which I would still be allowed to be head-strong and independent as well as receive a lot of reassurance and love along with the "punishments and demands".
This weekend Cabana Boy and I were watching the Labyrinth and the following quote at the end of the movie really stuck out as a very Dominant thing to say,
"Jareth: I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."
How true that is. He is asking for her submission and in her giving such submission he submits to her as well. Interesting dynamic, don't you think?
Monday, July 25, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
It's so hawt
I think I just might melt. We moved into a house with no air conditioning. My whole life I have been coming to Colorado during the summers to visit my mom and her family. None of them have air conditioning. Yet it seems that either the global warming has produced much hotter summers or as you age and get fat you just feel hotter. My mom used to dress me in a sweatsuit with shorts and a tshirt underneath in the mornings. It was always chilly in the morning, dew would be glistening on the grass beneath the morning sun. Now it feels as if it has never cooled off during the night, and I can't remember the last time I actually saw dew on the grass.
Even Diva the Wonder Dog has lost the bounce in her step and just wants to lay beneath the fan. Our American Bulldog baby (Freckles) pants so much she is a giant walking puddle of drool. It's too hot to sleep. It's too hot to clean. It's too hot to do anything but lay near a fan and eat Otter Pops. It's almost too hot for sex. Key word being almost. ;)
Even Diva the Wonder Dog has lost the bounce in her step and just wants to lay beneath the fan. Our American Bulldog baby (Freckles) pants so much she is a giant walking puddle of drool. It's too hot to sleep. It's too hot to clean. It's too hot to do anything but lay near a fan and eat Otter Pops. It's almost too hot for sex. Key word being almost. ;)
Friday, July 15, 2005
What is love?
I've been thinking about what it means to be in love a lot lately. It seems like so often that the word love is tossed around as casually as a pair of sneakers. The way love is shown to us in movies seems to bring an unrealistic expectation of what it should be. I find myself longing for things that no man has given me. Is that because I have yet to find my "one" or because that in the real world relationships don't work that way?
I have so many questions and so few people to ask about what makes a relationship good and what love is. It is times like this I miss my Grandmother tremedously. She always expressed her love for her husband passionately and truthfully. I wish I had thought to ask her these questions before she passed away. There have been so few examples of a positive relationship shown to me in my life. While my mom's parents were married for over 50 years my grandmother was not a person to express any emotion. My mom's sister has been married 30 years and she is such a frigid, prude I would never feel comfortable asking for advice. I used to idolize 2 couples as what I wanted my marriage to be like. One of them divorced this past year. I plan on having a deep conversation with the other over a bottle of wine.
I torment myself watching movies like The Notebook. I watch this couple overcome tough odds to be together so passionately, to be married for 100 years, only to share their last breath together in each other's arms. I sobbed for a good hour after watching this, longing for someone to love me that much. For someone to need me in his life so bad it creates a physical pain, for someone to love me so much he can't bear the thought of being away from me. For me to love someone so much that I sacrafice my needs for his, for me to be so connected with him that it no longer matters the heartache I suffered before he came into my life.
Is that what being in love is supposed to feel like? Is that how it is supposed to go? Is it supposed to be that flame that burns so hot that while it may dim it will never truly be extinguished? Is that why I walk around frustrated in all my relationships as if he can never do enough, because I have yet to meet the "match"?
Or is love a slow growing feeling? More like a good friend that you can be comfortable with no matter what? Is love the fireworks or is it the picnic on the fourth of july? Is it a dozen long stem roses or a small bunch of sunflowers? And that, my dear readers, is my conundrum. I'm not sure what my feeling for the Cabana Boy is and because of that I feel more insecure then ever.
I care for him deeply. I'm committed to him 100%. I'm willing to stand by him through all his health problems and raise his child as if he were my own. It hurts me when he is hurting. I want to fix whatever problem he may have. I feel tremendous guilt if anything I do disappoints him. I enjoy being with him. I want to spend time with him. I miss him when he is gone.
At the same time I am endlessly frustrated by him. Frustrated that he doesn't tell me nice things like I look pretty, that he finds me sexy, that he loves me, that he can't live without me. Frustrated that we aren't having sex everyday and that he doesn't really kiss me, deep and passionate like he would devour me if he could. And frustrated that maybe I am expecting too much. He does call me often throughout the day just to check on me. He wants me to hang out at his shop and with his friends. He comes home early to spend time with me watching a movie together. Is that what love is? Am I missing out because I'm settling? Or is love really this, being with someone not because they get you wet, but because they make you smile in your heart?
I beg of you dear readers, will you please give me your definition of love?
I have so many questions and so few people to ask about what makes a relationship good and what love is. It is times like this I miss my Grandmother tremedously. She always expressed her love for her husband passionately and truthfully. I wish I had thought to ask her these questions before she passed away. There have been so few examples of a positive relationship shown to me in my life. While my mom's parents were married for over 50 years my grandmother was not a person to express any emotion. My mom's sister has been married 30 years and she is such a frigid, prude I would never feel comfortable asking for advice. I used to idolize 2 couples as what I wanted my marriage to be like. One of them divorced this past year. I plan on having a deep conversation with the other over a bottle of wine.
I torment myself watching movies like The Notebook. I watch this couple overcome tough odds to be together so passionately, to be married for 100 years, only to share their last breath together in each other's arms. I sobbed for a good hour after watching this, longing for someone to love me that much. For someone to need me in his life so bad it creates a physical pain, for someone to love me so much he can't bear the thought of being away from me. For me to love someone so much that I sacrafice my needs for his, for me to be so connected with him that it no longer matters the heartache I suffered before he came into my life.
Is that what being in love is supposed to feel like? Is that how it is supposed to go? Is it supposed to be that flame that burns so hot that while it may dim it will never truly be extinguished? Is that why I walk around frustrated in all my relationships as if he can never do enough, because I have yet to meet the "match"?
Or is love a slow growing feeling? More like a good friend that you can be comfortable with no matter what? Is love the fireworks or is it the picnic on the fourth of july? Is it a dozen long stem roses or a small bunch of sunflowers? And that, my dear readers, is my conundrum. I'm not sure what my feeling for the Cabana Boy is and because of that I feel more insecure then ever.
I care for him deeply. I'm committed to him 100%. I'm willing to stand by him through all his health problems and raise his child as if he were my own. It hurts me when he is hurting. I want to fix whatever problem he may have. I feel tremendous guilt if anything I do disappoints him. I enjoy being with him. I want to spend time with him. I miss him when he is gone.
At the same time I am endlessly frustrated by him. Frustrated that he doesn't tell me nice things like I look pretty, that he finds me sexy, that he loves me, that he can't live without me. Frustrated that we aren't having sex everyday and that he doesn't really kiss me, deep and passionate like he would devour me if he could. And frustrated that maybe I am expecting too much. He does call me often throughout the day just to check on me. He wants me to hang out at his shop and with his friends. He comes home early to spend time with me watching a movie together. Is that what love is? Am I missing out because I'm settling? Or is love really this, being with someone not because they get you wet, but because they make you smile in your heart?
I beg of you dear readers, will you please give me your definition of love?
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