Do the shuffle

So 13Messages, MinorityReport, and Hubman have both done this one, so here ya go -- Ivey's iPod Shuffle:

1. Vengeance (The Pact) -- Blue Oyster Cult
2. The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia
3. Big River -- Johnny Cash
4. Angels would Fall -- Melissa Ethridge
5. Blue Telescope -- John Hiatt
6. Save Me -- Marc Broussard
7. You Got Gold -- John Prine
8. Silent Lucidity -- Queensryche
9. Paradise by the Dashboard Light -- Meatloaf
10. Pushing the Needle Too Far -- Indigo Girls
11. Fast as You -- Dwight Yoakam
12. Bad Romance -- Lady Gaga
13. Land of Canaan -- Indigo Girls
14. Last Mango in Paris -- Jimmy Buffet
15. Viva la Vida -- Coldplay
16. 52 Girls -- B-52's
17. When Joanna Loved Me -- Tony Bennett
18. Under Pressure -- David Bowie
19. Thousand Cranes -- Hiroshima
20. Tangled and Dark -- Bonnie Raitt
21. Symphony #9 (Scherzo) -- Ludwig van Beethoven
22. Moondance -- Van Morrison
23. Red Rain -- Peter Gabriel
24. Shameless -- Garth Brooks (and Billy Joel but Garth's version came up)
25. Home by the Sea -- Genesis

I'm surprised there wasn't more John Hiatt, Johnny Cash, and Jimmy Buffet. I'm a big Blue Oyster Cult Fan and tickled pink that was at the top. However, I'm also disappointed (as I always am) that more Janis Joplin didn't show up. I also have plenty of Duran Duran, George Michael, and Abba that didn't make this shuffle. Go figure.

The fantastic MinorityReport also tagged me (and Babe Lincoln. What cool company!) in one of those cool "award" thingys, so I'm going to work on that for tomorrow! Her's was pretty cool though, so I have to up with something nifty. Catch y'all later!

Ivey

What a difference a year makes

Friday evening Vince and I had the opportunity to see Rick and Leah, the couple I met at the spa a little over a year ago and who, in a very important way, launched us down this path. (You can read that little part of the story here and here.) We'd emailed and loosely kept in touch via Facebook but haven't seen them in person since last June. This time, it was a fun night and in way, the "date" I wished we'd had a year ago -- fun, sexy, no pressure, Vince and I both relaxed and enjoying ourselves.

We finally discovered a first date scenario that works for us. We still don't/haven't gone to swinger parties and real meet and greets are few and far between in this town so we rely on our swinger-site. After we've contacted a couple, everyone's opened face pics, and they respond positively to our hello, we'll chat on-line or on the phone. After we decide if they're people who actually understand the term "discrete", we'll invite them to meet us at one of Vince's gigs.

The reason this little set up works so well for us is because of the reasons I listed above:

Fun: a dance club is just a fun environment. Drinks, dancing, great music but also Vince is doing what he enjoys, playing guitar, and I'm doing what I enjoy, hanging out with people, laughing, and having a good time.

Sexy: I dress up in my short skirt or low cut top, high heels, and put on my "wow" make-up. I definitely turn a few heads as I move through the room. And Vince, he's in his sexy rock-god clothes, interacting with the sexy lead singer and other players as well as the crowd, being admired for his skill, look, and his vibe by the people in the club, primarily the ladies. (FYI -- he's not a "pretty-boy" rocker. Vince is, and always has been, the coolest guy in any room. He just.... is.) The entire atmosphere is about sexiness and a good time. Everyone is there for the same purpose -- to get their sexy on.

No pressure: Strictly speaking, Vince is working so there is no possibility of anyone expecting any play and whoever we're meeting already knows that. But perhaps more importantly, Vince knows that I know. One of the most aggravating and tiring things for us is what we've come to call "holding Ivey's leash." I'm like a puppy, always eager, always ready to go, explore, experience, DO! I'll stick my nose in all sorts of places with (to him) very little discrimination. I like everybody!! Wheeeee!!!!! But he doesn't want to be the perennial "bad guy" and I get a pretty fuckin' sore neck constantly having that leash jerked on. But in the club it doesn't matter if I like the people or not, I'm not going to know what his opinion is until the next day at the earliest so my expectations for that night are to have a good time and to go home.

Relax and enjoy: So without him having to worry about what I'm thinking, and only being able to interact with friends between sets, he gets to observe them (and me) from the stage, he gets to chat in half hour increments (with a considerable amount of that being taken up with music conversation), there's usually plenty of "wow, you're good" from the lady of the couple, and he gets to enjoy the conversation with them on his own terms. I get relax knowing that he's relaxed. I can only enjoy myself, if he's enjoying himself.

So back to Rick and Leah. I enjoyed their company and Vince did to. He and Rick laughed and I think Rick seemed more like a "regular guy" now than he did a year ago. Of course, he hasn't changed, our perspective did. Leah, who I think was much more in tune with our newness and un-readiness last year, was laughing, smiling, gently flirting, and generally being the sweet, sexy, and lovely lady I'd met at the pool; and this time I think Vince saw it too. Last time he was dealing with such an emotional onslaught and I was so oblivious that the entire evening is still like a Dali painting.

I'm pretty sure we'll see them again though I still don't know if any play is in our future. While I certainly feel plenty of attraction for these two, if it doesn't happen it doesn't happen; the sense of urgency and intense OMG-I-just-gotta-fuck-these-people desire is gone and I think that is part of the maturing process. I'll experience mild disappointment at a missed opportunity but I think now it would be more like missing out on a cool restaurant ("Oh, they're closed tonight? Damn. So where shall we go instead?") as opposed to a great cosmic injustice if I just don't get to have my way.

Growth feels good.

But it would also be disingenuous to say I want to get used to a lifetime of mild disappointment. I AM a puppy. I AM eager. I am expansive, inclusive, experiential, and generous. I am not reckless and I am certainly not without discipline or self-control. I weary of someone else's leash regardless of how much I love the hand that holds it. At the risk of taking the metaphor too far, I am very good at coming to heel. I've mastered sit and stay. I want to run a while.

Last year at this time I was a ball of unfocused want, struggling to escape the limitations I'd grown to accept as "just the way life is." I didn't know how but I was determined to rid myself of fear, shame, isolation, judgementalness, condemnation, and constant, constant yearning. This year, I have a clearer idea of what I'm looking for from this "lifestyle." I can articulate it, describe it, visualize it. Each conversation Vince and I have, each new experience, each new friend is like a hand turning a lens, and our date on Friday night was, to me, getting closer to the ideal life I seek -- fun, sexy, relaxed, enjoyable, expansive, inclusive, experiential, and generous. Open. Open to what good comes my (our) way. Open to others on a similar path. Open to joy. Open to..... more.

Not your average girl

Recently I've been thinking about the weird or, shall we say, socially inappropriate things I do like enjoy explicitly sexy emails with men I've never met or trade racy pics with men who aren't my husband. Or have sex (at least want/try to) with other "like minded" swinger-type folks -- sex with women, men, three-somes, four-somes, more-somes, whatever. I've been giving this a lot of thought which interferes with my ability to enjoy such activities so I decided I need to sum it up so I can get back to the fun stuff.

Here it is:

I haven't a fucking clue regarding why I'm like this, but I know I like myself better when I am. Not "enjoy myself more", not "have more fun" (which I do) not "contribute to people feeling better about themselves" but I LIKE MYSELF BETTER when I'm engaging ALL OF ME, ALL THE TIME.

For a moment, let's consider the fact that most people in the vanilla world would be shocked -- simply shocked!! -- if they knew about this. It goes against what we are taught is morally right. Simply put, when you are in a relationship, be it a young boyfriend/girlfriend, a mature engagement, husband/wife not only should you only feel attraction for that one person, you should feel next to nothing, certainly nothing sexual, about anyone else. But more disturbing to me, you must also eliminate pretty much the deeper aspects of any other friendship. When you get married or even just decided to "date" you essentially agree to forsake all others -- not just in body, but in mind and soul as well. It's okay to be "acquaintances," co-workers," "friendly," etc. but to actually feel attraction or god forbid, attachment to someone who isn't your spouse, well folks, it just ain't done.

It's either okay to be sexually expressive with someone, and only one, or it isn't okay at all. And what I've discovered is that's just not me.

To be clear, I am monogamous in that Vince is my chosen one, the man who makes me a better me, with whom I share not only my hopes and dreams but my future, past, mortgages, work, leisure, checking account, family, troubles and triumphs.

I don't consider myself a polyamorist in that I'm don't have a desire to have a third entity enter into our dynamic. But as I see it that specialness he and I share doesn't HAVE TO preclude me from enjoying other people as deep and abiding friends who may share sexual attraction if not consummation; as sexual partners under the right circumstances; or simply as playmates. In some cases these others may provide something that he simply doesn't have (like breasts, a vagina, an additional penis) in others they may share an interest he doesn't (like erotic writing or imagery).

In my dream world I see Vince and I sailing through life. On that trip we have a rich collection of friends that have come, gone and left memories; some new and short lived, who were perhaps connected to a certain time and place, or purpose, and some who matured with us over time, whose connection is stronger, most lasting. And some, maybe just a small few, who share part of our journey with us.

I think it is unnecessarily limiting to assign categories like "ours", "mine", or "his" to these friendships even though it may be true. But that's where I think "society's expectations" have done me wrong. My connections, my friendships in the past, have always been dictated by what "they" said was okay. I've lived by their permission but mostly without it. So I've been limited by their fear, held back by their judgement, and made lonely by accepting the way they choose live their life as how I must live mine.

It doesn't work for me. I don't care if every other person on the planet is perfectly happy and satisfied with the one man / one woman / only-one-at-a-time paradigm. I'm not and trying to act like I am causes more turmoil for me than if I control, suppress, deny, and generally act like someone I'm not.

It does cause complications, the first and biggest being the adjustments that Vince and I go through to make sure that me being me doesn't threaten "us." I don't go running around connectin' with folk all willy-nilly. And I certainly don't do it behind his back. And even though it rubs independent-Ivey the wrong way, I also don't do it without his approval, or yes, even permission.

I also take extra pains to ensure that the people I engage with are on the same page I am with the relationship -- quite explicitly in some cases. I also measure the interaction based, in some level, on the person's other relationships. I may engage in sexy banter with one of my more open vanilla artist friends but not at the expense of his girlfriend. I may lose myself in fantasies with one friend while knowing that his wife and my husband will decide if these thoughts ever become actions.

Limits and negotiation as well as consequences of my own choosing are far different than those others try to box me in with. My current box is like a jungle gym, a firm structure to play on and in; theirs is like a coffin or an empty room that isolates and holds me separate from the wonder and joy of my fellow human beings.

The momentary disappointment of running up against a real and mutually agreed upon limit is far superior to the desperate yearning of a bound-up soul. And maybe that is what makes me a little..... odd. I'm finally realizing that my capacity for connection (emotionally, intellectually, and yes, even physically) is limitless. And it always has been.

Baffled

The truth of the matter is that I spend most of my life totally fucking baffled. Seriously. I don't understand how some people can think the way they do, act the way they act, or believe the way they believe in spite of evidence that tells them what they think is at best untrue and at worst un-productive.

But mostly, I think this way about myself. Case in point:

Vince and I had a fantastic date with A&J on Friday night. It really couldn't have gone better. We'd had dinner with them about a month or so ago, emailed and chatted over the weeks, I talked with Mrs. A&J on the phone. During this time, the Mr. was pretty much a constant on the chat front. Almost every time we logged on to the swinger site he was on and we'd often chat. He was nice, funny, and respectful. If Vince was chatting it was guy stuff. When it was me, it was more lighthearted. On numerous occasions he invited us to their home for some "hot tub" fun.

When finally were able to see them again. The conversation flowed easily. The laughs were abundant. There was some sexy dancing, flirting, etc. The date was really an opportunity for Vince and Mrs. A&J to get to know each other a little better and see if they had any chemistry. They did! During breaks between sets there was flirting, sexy banter, pic sharing, touching, smiling and laughing. At one point, Vince leaned over to me, laughing, and pointed out that she'd gotten him hard. And she had. He said told me to set up the hot tub date.

The Mr. and I were having fun as well and after Vince gave me the go ahead, I turned to them both and said "yes, we'd love to take you up on the hot tub invite!" The conversation continued with everyone saying Ivey and Mr. A&J would coordinate the schedules and find a good night. Vince was playing late so he went back to play his last set, I walked out with Mr. and Mrs. we kissed and hugged in the parking lot, parting with "we'll set up a play date."

The Mrs. had given Vince her real first and last name and he friended her on FB and she accepted. Vince sent a "had a great time, looking forward to seeing you again note" on our swinger site. Later that day I sent a "here are some good dates for us" email. And since then.....

Silence.

Crickets.

No chats, no emails.

Nada, niente, nothing. It's been four days.

So I say again, I'm baffled.

WTF?! Now maybe in a day or two we'll hear back but if a few more days come and go with no word then we're going to write them off. But I have to tell you, I have no idea what happened but in the absence of information, my mind tends to drift to the less pleasant: I'm too fat, I'm too old, I offended them somehow, I'm unattractive. They don't like me for some reason. Do you see a trend here?

And here's the worst part -- with the exception of "too old", this is the same shit that has gone through my mind my ENTIRE life. Please don't take the following as a whine as it is simply a factual accounting of history, but I was NEVER asked out in high school, only twice in college. After college and before Vince, I was almost never asked out on dates, I went out with "groups" from the theater, I often dated (read: slept with) someone from a show I was in but when the show was over so was the "relationship."

Anyway, like I said, I'm baffled; less about the sudden silence from A&J and more regarding why the fuck do I do this to myself? Maybe I'm not cut out to be a swinger because I just can't fucking relate to people? Maybe I can't read social signals and never knew it? Maybe I have Aspberger's Syndrome? Maybe I'm just a fucking idiot? I read other people's blogs and I just stand amazed at what they are able to do and experience. But for some strange reason, it feels like it is now -- like it has always been --outside of my grasp or understanding.

For the record, I'm PMSing so am a bit harder on myself than the other 20 or so days of the month but this is just irritating. Anyway, I'll snap out of it in a day or two. I always do.

A little random Sunday stuff

It has been, without a doubt, a great week! We got A LOT accomplished at work, closed another client (More work! Yippeee!!!!!), had a great 2nd date with a couple, talked to one friend, missed another, returned to the gym (aka feeling MUCH better), Vince took another flying lesson, we took the motorcycle out for a spin, and fixed a few projects around the house. Oh, yes!! That is a good week. And as always, caused me to reflect a little.

Our work: We've worked hard to build our little lifestyle and I'm not talking about swinging. It's creatively and technically challenging, we get to travel all over the country to some of the most popular as well as out-of-the-way places our gorgeous country has to offer. We learn the most amazing things; we meet even more amazing people. But mostly, we do all of this together.

What we do with our time, how we spend it, is pretty much all up to us. Yes, we have project deadlines (that we set) but there is no one who can second guess, grant or withhold permission, or generally tell us what, when, or how to do something. We used to say that we were practicing for retirement; now we've decided hell, we practically ARE retired. LOL

Swinging: We had a second date with a A&J. They came out to hear Vince play and we had a great time. Our first date was at a restaurant and we've learned -- always learning -- that may not be the best place. First, it's too quiet and you can't have the kind of open discussion that really helps you get to know someone. Second, if you guys haven't figured it out, I'm a talker. Vince is a listener. In this case, the Mr. A&J is also a talker so he and I got to know each other at the first date while Vince and Mrs. A&J, well, didn't. But this time they got to talk and flirt to the point that Vince leaned over and told me to set up the playdate. The Mr. and I working out the details!

Also, Vince is an awesome guitar player and quite frankly, the ladies find it hot. Seriously. Just hot. It's also a place where his comfort and confidence rule. He is "himself" there, the guy I know, the king; whereas when we're just hangin' at a restaurant he is much more reserved.

It also takes the pressure off, there is no pressure to play on a first date because we can't. He's working. Also, the clubs are a sexier atmosphere. We still keep the behavior "vanilla" but we can dance, and laugh, and lean in and talk in someone's ear, and place a hand on their arm or back or shoulder or whatever and no one raising an eyebrow. We've met a few other couples this way and are having a lot more success than we did before! Again, I say "Yipppeee!!!"

The gym (my health): I haven't had a major pain episode in almost three weeks (knock on wood) and have started picking up my workout routine again. I love lifting weights, love increasing the weight, the sweat, the good pain, the focus. Just love it. I wish my body responded better, as in losing fat, but it doesn't and well, there ya go. Either way, there is something about knowing that my legs press 300 pounds and watching my biceps flex when I curl 17.5 pounds for 2 sets of 20 reps that makes my mind and spirit soar. It charges me up and increases my confidence so much that it (almost) doesn't matter if I never lose a pound. That sweat makes me feel freakin' sexy!

As for the missing pain, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If it stays away for a few more weeks, I'll probably return to karate too. Or maybe I'll pick up a new sport? Don't know for sure but it does seem that I need at least three high intensity workouts in order to maintain my weight. Whatever.

Talked to a friend: I have a few blogger friends that are truly turning into real friends. This week I actually talked to one of them on the phone. This one happens to be a swinger but that's not the point -- we actually had a very vanilla conversation but with no pauses, gaps or awkwardness and lots and lots of laughter. The complexities and hell, the logistics! of swinging may mean that we never actually play together (and when you read this, you know I hope we do) but so what? Seriously, I'd like this person if I'd never seen the first HNT photo. ;)

But the major revelation is that this what I mean when I talk about my world, our world, expanding. My goal, in swinging or anything else, is not to create new compartments into which to shove people but rather to expand the possibilities with the people we truly relate to. The fact that a sexual experience is possible is simply one more layer of connection, but the connection is what is important.

There's also the possibility that Vince and I may get the chance to meet this person in real life before the year is out, making that on-line to real world expansion even more fluid. Way cool.

Missed a friend: The other side of this is that I'm truly creating real connections. Another on-line friend was on vacation with their family so our correspondence was a little more sparse than usual. This on-line friend I've never heard, never seen a picture of, and only know through our back and forth exchanges via email and yet..... I feel like a real friendship has developed and because of that, I've missed him but I've loved knowing that he was having a good time with HIS family. Enjoying HIS life. I love that I make his life a little fuller, a little more entertaining, maybe a little more fun and sex-ay. But the feeling of compersion (great term, thanks Sadie and Goose!) of feeling pleasure at the pleasure of someone else is awesome! And it's becoming a regular part of my life, replacing doubt, jealousy, fear, insecurity, and loneliness. Just awesome.

And this feeling is growing not only in my but in Vince as well. Vince of course, knows about my on-line relationships. He knows that they aren't all that vanilla. LOL And one must admit that for a husband to know that his wife exchanges sexually charged emails with another man, takes a lot of personal relationship confidence. But he also knows it contributes to my overall happiness, my enjoyment of life, my connection with others. These people are truly becoming friends, but he and he alone is my husband.

Flying lessons: I mentioned last week that Vince has wanted to learn to fly since he was a boy. He's 46 year old now. We observed last week that this change I've been going through for the past couple of years, becoming a better me, the desire to "experience" all life has to offer, hasn't just affected me positively, but him as well. In addition to the sexual possibilities his experiences are going through the roof -- photography, sailing, flying and many others.

And the pursuit of swinging, in a way, is what has opened all of these possibilities mainly because of the constant, clear communication that has grown between us, but also because the communication does force one to self-examine, to ask hard questions and to listen for answers. The biggest being -- If this life I have today were to end tomorrow, did I do everything I wanted to do? Did I embrace the opportunities presented? Did I pursue my passions? Did I live fully? If I look back, was my life as rich with connections and experiences as I could make it?

Seriously, to me that's what swinging, flying, sailing, motorcycling, acting, living, and loving are all about.

We took the motorcycle out: Our bike had a bit of a mechanical problem last week and Vince fixed it this week so Saturday we were back on the open road! First of all, I just love that thing. I sit on the back, Vince snuggly between my thighs and just enjoy the scenery and thoughts that fill my head as he tours his precious Ivey around the back roads and beaches of Florida. When I'm back there I am totally not in control and I love it. I am in his hands.

Fixed a few things around the house: Vince and I are both pretty handy and there is something about being master of your stuff that is just as confidence building as lifting weights, working out, and wearing sexy undies. You're not a slave to things. Knowing things can be repaired and that you have the skills and the can-do to repair them is, to my mind, one of the things that separates the kids from the adults. It's not just responsibility but it's curiosity, competence, ability and all of these traits I find very, very sexy.

Have a great week everyone! I'm off to the same resort/spa I was at the first time swinging ever came up. In fact, it was almost exactly one year ago to the day. And it's been a hell of a wonderful year!!

The Rockets Red Glare

Happy Independence Day, one and all! It's been a wonderfully busy week here at the Lane's. (drip) As the holiday has approached, thoughts have been bubbling around my brain, floating in and out, but essentially all rounding out to the same thing -- how has our life improved since Ivey launched her overhaul idea two years ago? (drip)

To radically simplify and sum up, two years ago I was fat, out of shape, lonely, helping to care for my dying grandparents, just starting to rejuvenate an absent sex drive, realizing I'd spent the better part of my life ashamed of my body, constantly trying to please people (drip) who could never be pleased, and feeling like I was missing out on what life had to offer due to fear and shame. I was "not me."

Well let's just take a gander at the last week and see how life has changed!

Monday night Vince and I took the photos we used for HNT as well as for Osbasso's Mystery Guest photos. Two years ago, that would not have been possible on MANY levels. Body image, for starters. Yes, I've worked hard dieting and exercising but the truth is I've only lost about 15 pounds overall, but I've certainly changed. I've gone from being ashamed and disgusted to proud and eager!

But there's also the process of taking the pictures. No one, and I mean NO ONE, (drip) would want to be around while Vince and I work through our "creative process." First, he's technical, I'm artistic. That's not to say that Vince isn't artistic, the concept for "Night Owl" was his, but when we work together, even in our company, he and I each sweat very different things. He's looking at the lighting effects, I'm checking out the angles on the skin; he's adjusting for light bounce, I'm trying to figure just the right distance between my mouth and the microphone. I'm a perfectionist in that if it isn't good enough it just fucking isn't good enough; take another shot. Vince is a perfectionist in that if something isn't working, quit what you're doing and try something else.

Needless to say, we have to bicker for a while to get the right picture that makes both of us happy. Of course there's laughter but there's also a bit of you're-driving-me-fucking-nuts-honey-would-you-stop-it sighs of exasperation But we talk. We laugh. We argue. Occasionally we accuse the other of obstructionism or obtuseness. We (drip) work. And in the end, we have something that we're both pleased with. If you haven't seen 'em. Check out the shots here.

Tuesday night was hang out and read night. I'm deep into a book titled "Shop Class as Soulcraft" by Mathew B Crawford. "A beautiful little book about human excellence And the way it is undervalued in contemporary America" -- The New York Times.

This book is an excellent philosophical treatise on the value of actually doing something. One of the reasons we are self-employed is my absolutely inability and unwillingness (drip) to endure the oddness and imposed impotence of the corporate environment. I don't just like to get things done, I HAVE to and things that thwart progress, problem solving, and productivity drive me batshit insane. And that is true of damn near everything I do -- swinging, home improvement, cooking, family, clients, HNT photos, local/state/national politics. I am never more miserable than when I am holding myself back, accomplishing nothing, in order to avoid upsetting someone else's apple cart.

I want to live and work in an environment where the people I associate with want to "get it done" rather than just have meetings, compile data, discuss options (but rarely act on anything), endlessly evaluate pros and cons, and spend years, YEARS, wondering why the hell they're stuck in a dead-end job or a personal rut. (drip)

Wednesday night Vince and I had a date with a new couple, B&V. We met at a sort of upscale pool hall one town over and had a fun night. They were a VERY attractive couple; both good looking, fitness instructors with bodies to prove it, funny, smart, etc. We parted ways at the end of the night without the feeling that we'd ever play with this couple (not enough physical chemistry?)but that we'd definitely see them again. They enthusiastically said the same to us and even mentioned a few upcoming parties. The next day I sent an "enjoyed the evening" note.

Four days later I've yet to get a response. WTF is up with that? They didn't seem like rude people, they didn't seem like they couldn't (drip) wait to get away from us, in fact, the opposite. What the hell happened to common courtesy?

But again, referring to the change from a couple of years ago, A -- we went on a "date" with another couple and had a great time, B -- we went on a date with very physically attractive couple and didn't feel 'out of our league', C -- neither Vince nor I felt any sense of apprehension or tension before hand, D -- Vince set everything up with this couple (drip) without any pushing or prompting from me, E -- not getting a response to common courtesy is a WTF but not an 'oh my god they hate us/me' feeling.

Big, big personal progress on sooooo many levels.

Thursday night we went out with a group of vanilla friends, two couples and us. Dinner at a Mexican restaurant then off to see "Breakfast at Tiffany's". Our little town has an old 1920s theater that was recently restored to it's former glory as a playhouse and movie house. During the summer, it shows Classic movies on Thursdays, Family films on Fridays, and Cult Classics on Saturday nights. We had a fuckin' ball!

Two years ago, Vince and I rarely saw friends and I'd have to say we were becoming quite reclusive, a middle-aged couple that sat home most nights of the week. When Vince had gigs, I'd stay home. I didn't go to the theater; we almost never went to the movies and if we did, it was just us. We made the conscious decision to start building friendships -- new ones as well as re-evaluating old ones -- and it's finally paying off. We have a group we play cards with, we socialize with our neighbors, we host regular dinner parties, we invite people to come out and hear Vince play (both vanilla and lifestyle-folk). We actually find ourselves having to turn down an invitation or two because of other commitments now.

We didn't stay out late with our friends though because Vince had to get up for flying lessons on Friday morning. Last month he took sailing classes (which I was going to take to but then had to miss because of doing the play) and we'll probably take a boat out next Saturday to start getting me back up to speed. But Vince has wanted to fly since he was a boy. He's taken lessons (drip) on and off since he was in his twenties but there's a new found resolution in him this time. I think our foray into swinging, combined with the renewed energy and just plain lust for life has brought this about. Or maybe it's my influence? Who knows? Who cares?

(Oh, and the photo is from Vincent's birthday. I gave him a surprise flight with someone we know who happens to own a lot of vintage aircraft. That's Vince getting into an AT6 Texan for those of you who are interested in such things.)

Either way, (drip) it's yet another change from two years ago when his flying lessons remained a back burner, some-day, one-day topic. Sometime in the fall, Vince is going to take me up in an airplane and show me our little slice of heaven from the sky. I can't fucking wait. Not only because it is one more adventure for us, but rather because it is one more realized dream for my beloved Vincent.

Friday evening was a quite dinner at home, a little snuggling, a little laying on the couch watching America's Funniest Videos, and ya know...

Saturday night was our little town's Independence Day Celebration. We live one block from where the city holds many of the community events including the 4th of July fireworks display. It is truly a joy! We chatted with neighbors, friend's asked if they could park in our driveway since street parking isn't allowed during the event. Even in a down economy our city administration works hard at keeping the civic events full and funded. I sipped my chardonnay while Vince enjoyed his beer then we walked down to the lake to oooh and ahhhh over the rockets' red glare.

I love Independence Day. It's always a favorite of mine. But this year it felt even richer since it felt more like a celebration of personal independence. I was chatting with a friend who mentioned Roosevelt's Four Freedoms -- of speech, of religion, from fear, and from want -- and I felt like over the past 24 months I've made more progress than in the previous 42 years.

I am speaking my truth, through this blog and more importantly, sharing it with Vincent, with the love of my life;

I am slowly shedding the shackles that "religion" imposed on my life and discovering the true nature of moral and spiritual oneness with myself;

I am less afraid now than I have ever been in my life -- less afraid of disapproval, of loss, of risk, of growth, of love, of joy, of success;

and I am discovering, along with Vince, that I truly want for nothing -- I have not only his love and faith but they will not be taken from me, I have the life and the lifestyle that I always dreamed of and was willing to work hard to get.

Am I satisfied with what I have now? Yes and no. I'm satisfied for today, but if it doesn't continue to grow, to expand, to evolve then it will become stagnant, the status quo. Do I want more love, more friendships, more excellent memories of adventure and experience? Of course. I also want more independence, but only from constraint, mediocrity, and limitation, never from commitment. (drip)

That constant dripping, by the way, is a leak Vince discovered in our dinette ceiling this morning which ended up thwarting our standard Sunday morning rogering. Our beautiful, one of a kind, pecky-Cyprus, bead-board, hand selected by yours truly, cost a mother fuckin' shit load of time, effort, and money to design and install ceiling is suffering from a leak in either the roof or the wall. It's a problem and has to be fixed. But it's the price you pay for living in a historic, 85 year old house -- constant care and maintenance.

Happy Independence Day, y'all!!

HNT -- For all you night owls out there

Happy HNT to all of you out there in the blogosphere!

Lately, I've been feeling a bit like a late-night talk-radio DJ -- listening to your stories, sharing a few of my own. It's really hard to find good, sexy talk radio. Most of what passes for sexy is just plain sappy; there's no room for raw lust partnered with real love or for a rockin' good time with just plain good friends.

For those of you who want to know, I have a Southern accent and am very quick to laugh. I'd like to think my tone is low and sexy, but that's mostly wishful thinking. ;)

Don't forget to check out the rest of the Half-Nekkid-ness over at Osbasso's place!

Sunday ramblings and revelations

First, I just have to share this flower. I love blue flowers (my yard is FULL of them, from Plumbago to Blue Daze) and this field of blue was on the trail where I ride my bike every morning. Pretty, ain't it? I love finding and photographing flowers; every time I feel like I'm the first one to have ever stopped to see it, to appreciate its beauty. I know I'm not, but it's like the revelation of that particular moment is just for me.

Anyway, I gotta tell y'all, I love reading your blogs! It's sort of like the flowers, I know I'm not the only one but sometimes it feels like it's just for me!

Sometimes it's the adventures, sometimes the photos (both the naughty and the nice), sometimes it's the humor. There are times though when it's the challenges faced; I feel a connection, a "yeah, I been there, Buddy" kind of vibe. On occaision I've encountered the "holy shit, there's some crazy in the world!" Some of you seem to write what's in my head, as if you have some super-human knowledge that trancends time and space. On more than one occaision, people have written something that has completely changed my point of view, or at least given me a new perpective to consider. Sometimes it's answer-seeking -- I've combed some of y'all's past posts looking for specific solutions or points of view on issues I or we've been dealing with.

And other times, it's a celebration! Like this series of posts over at my girl Minority Report's place. I admit it's odd, but when I read this post I truly felt gleeful! And then I thought, "Good gravy, Ivey! Your all happy-dappy because some woman you don't even know (and her husband) had an enjoyable sexual experience! What's up with that? Are you turning into a creepy voyeur?!"

And then I thought "No, it's because I care about this person." I know sex and sexuality is a thread in my blogroll, but I wasn't giddy because the woman got laid; I was happy because she had success with something that has been troubling her. The important elements of the story (to me as the faithful follower) were the joy, relief, fun, humor (the dog is fine, MR), and hope conveyed in the words. And I got to share those wonderful feelings because she chose to share the story with us.

Reading the comments that followed the post, I reminded I'm not the only one enjoying the flower. Support and encouragement came in from all over the country -- a community.

Shifting the topic a bit, Vince and I had a lovely date the other day. It started with a rousing round of after lunch sex (we are self-employed, ya know) then we went to a late afternoon movie ("Get him to the Greek" -- two thumbs up!), drinks afterwords at a Cigar bar, then a fantastic Italian dinner al fresco, then home for some more hawt luvin'!

All that was fun but I think the coolest thing was our conversation. Of course there was the usual Vince / Ivey funny banter stuff -- we do that all the time -- but we also talked about things that would've been unheard of 18 months ago but that have made both of our lives richer, fuller, more fun, more open (at least with each other), and the cause of a considerable amount of personal growth. We talked about my on-line and real life friendships, some that include some not-so-societally-acceptable benefits, and the enjoyment that those relationships bring to BOTH our lives. We talked about Vincent's recent foray into the world of on-line flirting and the enjoyment as well as increased confidence it brings. We talked about how much I LOVE not only the idea of him having flirty relationships with other women but the reality of it as well.

We talked about our real and recent sexual adventures -- what worked, what didn't, what we'll do different in the future if and when the opportunity arises -- but mostly about how it's almost as if the sex is simply one avenue to expand the richness of life, one among many choices that we will continue to make as we grow old together.

We also talked about where we draw our lines, how we maintain both primacy as each other's partners as well as independence as distinct human beings.

This journey has been a hell of a ride! :) And there are plenty of pretty flowers to be found everywhere!

So this post is really about the joy of sharing, of connecting: with fellow bloggers who are part of a wider community, some of whom I've grown to know, even though I don't really know them at all. Some who have, through correspondence become friends, some are becoming good friends who have crossed the line between my blogger persona and into my "real" life. The increased richness between my husband and myself and of a trust and joy that is light-years beyond what I ever thought possible. Watching his confidence and openness grow -- at his own pace and in his own way -- separate from yet united with me.

And the ultimate -- connecting with my true self, my nature as a caring, loving, sexual, intellectual, artistic, adventurous person. I'm a better wife, artist, writer, and friend.

Thank you all for your inspiration.

Catching up is hard to do

Finally! A Saturday morning to leisurely peruse my favorite blogs, comment here and there, linger over some sexy, sexy, OMG so fucking sexy HNT photos and generally indulge my wandering mind. It's still quite eventful around here so rather than my usual singular long tale I'm going to steal an idea from my girl Emmy and just go for the bullets.


In random order:

• Health update. I may have mentioned previously that the docs have ruled out the big scaries (MS, Lupus, etc.) and right now the smart money appears to be on -- you guessed it! -- Fybrobyalgia. The pains still come and go with maddening regularity and frustrating unpredictability. Left foot today? Right arm tomorrow? Hands? Neck? WTF. But because this particular ailment is diagnosed by elimination of other maladies I'll be having a few more tests done to rule out a few other slightly more unlikely possibilities like arthritis or other inflammatory disease. One thing I have noticed through keeping a log is that stress and tension seems to precipitate an episode. But I'm no yoga/meditation girl. I like to fight so getting back to karate is a MUST. Vince agrees with this statement whole-heartedly!


• Speaking of stress, I've had a wonderfully stressful week. I'm usually hesitant to talk about this particular thing because it is so identifying but as I said a few posts ago, I just gotta be me! I opened a play on Thursday. Some of you know I used to make my living as an actor but I haven't been on-stage in a legitimate play since before I got married. The emotions of this have been thrilling and terrifying. Have I still "got it?" Will I remember my lines? OMG what if I go up? (FYI -- "go up" is what happens when you're on stage and suddenly your mind goes abso-fuckin'-lutely blank. Ya got nuthin'. Nuthin' at all to say and everyone I do mean everyone is staring at you and nothing is coming back. It's an awful feeling, to say the least.) But the show opened and yours truly was mentioned in a very positive light. The audience response too has been wonderful. But my friend's in the theater community have been the best. These are people who know good work and their comments have been nothing short of inspiring.


• The play itself is quite a complicated piece, emotionally and politically. Without going into too much detail, it is about Iraqi women. The research alone has been enraging and gut churning, but to go on stage night after night and rip your soul apart conveying a sense of loss and rage so deep that only the coldest of the cold could dismiss is exhausting. And my beloved Vince, not wanting to spoil the play for himself, wanted me to not tell him too much about it. So for the past few weeks I've been a bit, ahem, troubled. Gender, religion, war, death, justice, injustice and just what the fuck do you do about it? Anyway. Too much to go into here. Too, too much.


• We had a "date"! :) Last Saturday evening we finally met up with a couple that I've mentioned before that we found through our swinger website. Since we've learned our lesson about just meeting someone for the first time at a restaurant or bar we invited them to come catch a set at the club where Vince's band was playing. On the upside, it makes it easier since we're going to be there anyway. On the downside, since Vince is technically working he only has a few minutes between sets to see if he likes these people or not and he doesn't get to know them well, just a first impression. We also have to be VERY discrete since his co-workers are around and we really want to keep these worlds separate. We'll probably see them again after my play closes. She was cute 'n sexy and he was my kind of good lookin'. I don't know what it is about the sandy-haired white boys but I do think they are hot, hot, hot! In addition they were both very funny and certainly seemed to like us. Anyway, it was a real informal meet and greet type thing but it went well and we can see some potential for "something" happening here. :)


• Just what that something is though, is TBD. Now ya'll know me, I'm a "oh hell yeah, let's get it ON" kinda gal. Vince, is still my much more reserved and dignified loving partner. We want to meet them again over a game of pool or something where we can actually talk and Vince can get to know them a little bit. If that goes well, what we're probably going to do is see if these folks are interested in taking things kind of slow with us. Possibly some GG and same room and maybe a little soft swap only if everything is going well. They may not be and that's a problem. They've been in the Lifestyle 10 years and were actually swingers before they got married. It is simply a part of their lives. On the Lane it's still all new and can be a bit intimidating. Anywhooo.... it certainly could be real fun if we can just get out of our own way.


• I have a love/hate relationship now when it comes to reading the real-life exploits of people I've grown to know through their blogs. Part of me lives vicariously; enjoying not only the events but the way they choose to express in writing the visceral sensations of sex, the ideas explored, the fantasies made flesh, the inner desires satisfied or at the very least, experienced. The other part of me is green, green, GREEN with envy. Envious Ivey. That's me. See, I am blessed with a staggering imagination, one so gripping I can actually feel the sensations and emotions that I conjure up to match the narrative. I don't know if it's a talent that makes me a good actor or if because I'm an actor I've developed that skill but either way, when I read your stories I get a physical jolt out of them. I always thought everyone was the same way.


• So, though I am thoroughly satisfied and happy with Vince and my sex life together, I do have fantasies that I'd like to fulfill that cannot be accomplished without the involvement of other people -- female people, male people. People who share my interest in exploring the wider range of their sexuality. I have had fantasies of group sex, lesbian sex, multi-male sex, light bondage and slightly sub/dom sex, since I can remember fantasizing about sex. All I need is a reasonably attractive, nice partner(s) who share the same desire.


• Vincent is actually the opposite. Part of what we've discovered on this journey of mutual exploration -- and probably the most surprising thing to me -- is that he simply has never had these types of out of the norm sexual fantasies. The thought of him with two women? Never crossed his mind till I suggested it. Group sex? Not on his radar and still a surreal idea. Mild nor wild bondage? Nope. Role play? Nada. It's not that he's turned off by any of this; he was simply never been turned on. He doesn't have these types of fantasies, his curiosity isn't driven that direction. At all. So, in our foray into the world of swinging (god, we hate that term), what we've discovered is that I am simply revealing a part of myself that has always been there but that I've repressed -- an experience seeking sexual adventurer. Vincent is searching for or trying to develop something that he's never considered or been. Two people, one path, VERY different journeys.

So, ladies and gents of the blogosphere, that's where my head's been lately. That and enjoying reading your posts, finding a few friends along the way, visiting your lives, learning about my own, figuring out how to build the life I'm want without burning down the one I have.

Forward, forward I say! Not one step back.

HNT -- A matter of taste

Happy HNT everyone!

As most of you already know, I consider my entry into sexual exploration very new; I often refer to it as "baby steps." And like a toddler, eager to explore the world, I want to experience everything!

Right now I think I'm in a tasting phase -- I want to put everything in my mouth.


Check out the rest of the Half-Nekkid-ness over at Osbasso's place!

All the best,
Ivey

Monsters in the dark

Yes, yes, yes..... I haven't written much for a while. The thing is though, it's not that I don't have much to say. I have too much. And my carefully considered plan to have my blog as an outlet to let my "Inner Voice" run free has run into some irritating existential snags. See, some people write nice short here's-my-day notes and move on. They write to announce something or maybe share a cool observation or a little rant. I write to organize and focus a chaotic and ignorant mind.
So here's the thing, dear readers, I have to write this shit down. I just do. If I don't, my life spirals into deeper chaos and confusion. But writing more plainly and fully has risks -- exposure, well intentioned but unwelcome advice, surface sympathy or worse, an absence sympathy.

Okay. Here goes. The reason I haven't been writing much lately is because there is something wrong with me, something not good. A few months ago I started experiencing strange pains. At first, the pain seemed to be confined to my knees; and that sucked but it was certainly understandable. I ride a bike, work out, take karate, etc. An injury every now and again in a 43 year old female body is to be expected. Right?

But soon it became apparent (after trips to the doc, X-rays, etc.) that there was no injury; just pain. Debilitating pain. Unable to fuckin' walk pain. When I could, I'd ride my bike but karate was out and I thought the poor equipment at my new gym was partially to blame so I quit lifting. So I self-medicated with wraps and braces and Tylenol and Advil.

Let me talk about the doc for a second too. After the tests revealed nothing, the doc immediately told me that my problem was "lack of strength." I refer you to two paragraphs above. I may not be thin, but I'm one strong, fit woman. Yet Dr. Dickwad didn't believe me. With a patronizing pat on the head he said -- and I'm not making this shit up -- "well, maybe you think you're working out hard or correctly, but your probably not." And with that handed me a sheet with leg exercises requiring two pound dumbbells (I do squats with 20s and 35s in each hand), leg presses with 50 pounds (my current leg press is around 230), and leg extensions with 15 (I do 125.)

I also regularly do 100 roundhouse kicks, per leg, followed by 100 jumping jacks, followed by three 2-minute rounds of sparing under the watchful eye of a damn near perfect sensei.

Asshole.

But I digress. About two months ago, the pain changed. It was no longer in my knees, it is now a weird, random pain that strikes my extremities in no particular order and can be absolutely paralyzing. One day, I was unable to lift my right arm. Another, my hands were in such pain I couldn't hold a pencil, type, or even undress myself, Vince had to do it for me. Sometimes it's my feet which hurt so bad I can barely stand. Another day, it will be a pain in my neck so bad I cannot turn my head left or right. Sometimes, it's just a finger but I'm unable to move it without excruciating pain.

And it comes and goes almost instantly. Thursday of last week, I woke up and my right leg was in severe pain every time I moved; I could barely walk and my husband had to help me up and down stairs. By 4 o'clock, it vanished. Yesterday my left arm was no longer functioning by the time I went to bed and I was unable to sleep because every time I moved, it woke me up.

And then I'll have a couple of days where everything feels normal. Then.... wham! Whatever could be causing this?

Let me tell ya folks, the Internet ain't your fuckin' friend in these circumstances. These symptoms fit the following: MS, Addison's Disease, Lupus, Lime Disease, brain tumor, brain cancer, and that's just a few of the jolly notions floating around.

I'm not one to assign a cause without evidence but getting the "evidence" for a diagnosis opens up a whole other ball of wax -- our fucking health care and insurance system, and I use the term system sarcastically.

Vince and I have private health insurance which is not only expensive it also carries very high deductibles. $3000 each, plus 50% on the next $5500 per year which means that before our insurance -- whose premiums have increased fuckin' 40% per year -- pays a fuckin' dime we pay out of pocket $5250 per year, per person. fNo office visit co-pays, just the bill -- which may show up months, if not years later with a note saying "you failed to pay XX amount at the time of service so you now owe us..... blah, blah, blah." Anyway, chasing down a mystery pain is crazy expensive.

If that wasn't enough, even though we have a plan that doesn't require a referral from a primary care physician, no specialist will make an appointment without a preliminary diagnosis from our PCP because they don't want to "waste their time." That means we have to pay for 3 or 4 visits with a doctor who isn't equipped to deal with this problem, with the subsequent delays that causes, before I can even try to get an appointment with a specialist.

Assholes.

Anyway, all of this is offered in a small way to explain why I haven't been writing or commenting much lately. Needless to say, there hasn't been much "sexy, swinging stuff" going on, and the fact that people STILL don't respond to email is another post for another time. Also, I'm having a hard time getting into the conversations, I just feel like I don't have much to add.

And finally, I'm scared shitless. Seriously. This isn't right and it's not "nothing." It's something and we have no idea what other than the potential physical disasters I mentioned earlier.

I've told almost no one about this; certainly none of my real life friends and almost none of my family. It's not because I'm protecting them from worry. I'm protecting myself from their dumb-ass speculation, nagging, and criticism regarding what I've done to precipitate this.

"Oh, Ivey, they can't be that bad. Tell them. They may surprise you! {{hugs}}" Oh, STFU. I know 'em a little better than you and they are all, to a man and woman, nothing if not predictable in their schadenfreude. I, sadly, remain mystified at what it must be like to have a family that actually enjoys and supports one another. Mine does not. End of story.

I'm heading out in about an hour to my next doctors appointment. The latest round of lab work came back "normal" so the good news is that it's nothing that could be discovered via blood tests (rule out diabetes) but it's bad news in that it's nothing that could be ruled out via blood tests. I think the next round they are going to start looking at my brain (cha-ching!!) for turmors or cancer and possibly lymphatic system (Bring on da' MS, bring on da' lupus!).

Meanwhile, Vince and I have clients that need and have purchased our attention, new clients that we need to find, and the general activities that support our lifestyle. We're trying to make new friends while keeping this little 'secret' from them. I am also doing a play. Returning to the stage in a challenging, emotionally wrenching piece. Yesterday I told the director about my little problem because it became clear that I was physically unable to do the blocking and, unless I was prepared for him to start suspecting I was an abused wife, he needed to know why. Fortunately (?) my character is a survivor of the Amiriyya Bomb Shelter tragedy of the second Gulf War so physical infirmity works for the character.

But it doesn't work for me. Not at all. I just read back through the post and see my signature brazen, bullish, somewhat comic writing style coming through. Don't be fooled. I'm scared. I'm confused. I'm unable to exercise with purpose and getting fat again. I experience bouts of fatigue that mimic depression. I am unable to focus. I feel stuck. I feel fake hiding my situation but I feel too vulnerable to talk about it, as if giving it a voice gives it more reality, more certainty.

Maybe it is just Lime Disease? Maybe. All the other maybes are monsters in the darkness and I can't find the fucking light switch.

HNT -- Clean

Happy HNT everyone! It seems I've developed the habit lately of being a bit late to every party. Oh well. I've got a few reasons; some good ones I can't talk about here 'cause of the annonymity issue, some not-so-good that I don't want to get into here well, just 'cause I don't. (Nothing to do with Vince.)

But the thing is, writing helps me clear my mind, focus, and in a way, clean my soul. To me, writing everyday is like taking a shower -- only it washes the gunk from my mind instead of my body -- and leaves me feeling fresh and renewed; ready to take on the challenges of the new day.

When I don't write, I just don't feel clean.

Check out the rest of the Half-Nekkid happenings over at O's!

Ivey

Remembering Memorial Day

Yesterday morning I wrote a fantastic post about hierarchy and the places people occupy in my life, how they fit, how they move up and down, and how they fall in and out of favor. It was witty, warm, and if I do say so myself, a little insightful. It had a little military comparison and kinda liked the flow it gave into the holiday weekend.

Then fuckin' Blogger ate it.

And today is Memorial Day and I refuse to write about hierarchy or swinging or sex or irritations or minor victories or defeats (because really, they are minor) or anything else other than the military and service.

One of the downsides of this sort of anonymity is that none of you know the vanilla side of my life (oh who the fuck am I kidding, I'm pretty much plain fuckin' vanilla every freakin' day) but I have a thing for the military. No, not a sexual fetish, but an awe, love and respect for any man or woman who volunteers to put their life up for grabs. Our military, any military really, serves one purpose, to fight an enemy, to the death whenever necessary.

For those of you who watch PBS' The News Hour, every day at the end of the broadcast, they scroll the names and photos of fallen soldiers, in silence, across the screen. Young privates, older sergeants, officers and enlisted -- all sons and daughters, some husbands, fathers, mothers and wives. Watching that day after day makes every day Memorial Day for me.

I have another friend who logs WWII veterans into the National Memorial. A veteran himself, he is tireless in his task and often posts interesting stories up on Facebook. He also introduced me to the website http://icasualties.org/ which lists the names and details of every US Military death in Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as lists of civilian causalities.

Growing up in rural, shit-kickin' cow-country most-- in fact I'd say many -- of my friends from high school joined the military and, through Facebook. I've been able to reconnect with a lot of them. They served all over the world in a variety of ways. One helped close down nuclear facilities, another spent much of his career in Korea, another became a military lawyer.

They all possess a quiet confidence, a dignity. They all appear to have an appreciation for life and people. In fact, maybe it's just the folks who reconnected with me, but they all also have a pretty nuanced compassion for mankind combined with a pretty pragmatic approach to day to day life. My family members who served were the same way -- from those who served in WWII all they way to today.

I don't envy them and I don't think that military service is the only way to achieve these qualities, but I do think it speaks to the results of serving. I think these qualities are what you earn when you survive, when you get to come home to your loved ones, when you are not a fallen hero.

I would like to think that I would have done well in the military but most people don't think that's the case. They say I wouldn't have handled the "authority" and certainly in my younger days I don't think I could argue their point. To say that I've been insubordinate would be an understatement. The fact is, I was fired from or quit abruptly almost every job I've ever had. It's one of the main reasons I'm an entrepreneur.

But I like to think I would have had the courage; that I possessed the discipline. I would like to think that I would have had the strength of character needed to be loyal to my fellow soldiers and be willing to sacrifice for them. I hope I wouldn't have whined too much or learned quickly to shut up about it. I think I would have served with honor, even if I lacked distinction.

My friends, both those currently serving and those who've left, all know. They accepted the challenge to serve our country, to do their part in whatever capacity they chose, to be shot at and to shoot back, to drop bombs and to run for cover. Maybe they did sign up because they needed a way out of nowhere-ville or to get money for college or because they couldn't get a job any where else. Maybe some did want the adventure and maybe they got it. But I think most men and women volunteer because they want to serve their country. Because they want to do what's right.

So on Memorial Day I remember the ones who died and the ones who serve. I also choose to remember that military service is about honor. That those who fight and die in our name have earned our respect even if, perhaps, they no longer need it. They possess a self-respect, born from experience, trial, and testing, that transcends any parade or any Facebook posting or any blog tribute or any half-assed "remembrance."

To those of you who have, are, or will serve in the US Armed Forces, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Lessons from a free thinking dog

I'm back!! And I'm back with warm fuzzy feelings because for the first time ever, I'm someone's favorite (not counting Vince, of course); RoaringLionofTwoFistedCool picked yours truly as a favorite blog. :))

Now I'm no sucker for random praise but some folk's opinions matter more than others and since I dig this guy and his ramblings, I'm going to participate in the award's requirements. To wit:

• Post the award on your blog somewhere
• Pass the award on to someone else
• Post a video playing your favorite instrument OR
• Post a photo of your pets OR
• Post a long post about your favorite book

Tall order.

As for passing it on, I'm going to pick my girl Julie Jezebel at This Time It's Just Julie. I learn a lot from that chick. In addition to being a fine writer, her perspective on life and love are thoughtful and, from where I'm at right now in my life, incredibly meaningful. I also had the pleasure of spending time with her last week and have been mulling over our conversation. More on that in another post. The HNT photo of me at the piano will do for the instrument though I do play the flute and in high school I played drums. But being the contrarian that I am, I'm going to combine the last two bullets.

I wouldn't say it was a life changing book, but "Merle's Door: Lesson's from a Free-Thinking Dog" by Ted Kerasote was an amazing read. Spoiler alert! Merle dies at the end. Just like all the rest of 'em -- "Tuesday's with Morrie", "Old Yeller", and the entirety of Shakespeare's plays. Okay, maybe not everybody in that last one.

But the gist of it is always the same, you can learn a lot if you pay attention and open your mind to the idea that maybe, just maybe, you don't know everything and you're not right all the fuckin' time.

Which brings me to my babies.

This photo is actually about 10 years old and both of my beloved pups are gone now. The Lassie looking guy was Percy and the mutt was Stinger.

NOTE -- for those of you who roll your eyes with disdain at the fact that I refer to my dogs as children or babies STFU. At best you are ignorantly unkind; at worst you are a mean-spirited jack-ass. Either way, if it's just too much for you to accept the idea that a person could actually be emotionally attached to dog then we wouldn't hang out in real life, so there's no need for you to hang out here. Oh, and if you actually have children of your own and still begrudge me my love for my pets, well then, fuck you.

These two dogs were different as night and day. Sting's nickname was Visa 'cause he was "everywhere you want to be." Underfoot constantly. I work from home and he was always either under my desk or at my feet. He was demanding in that he knew the food and walking schedule and you didn't deviate from it one second without him reminding you of your responsibilities. All the toys in the house were "his" and if other people or dogs came over he'd wander around, gather them all up, and put them under the coffee table. He was the defender, and I don't doubt for a second that dog would bite anyone who he thought was harming me.

Percy, on the other hand, was like a good looking movie star -- aloof, pretty, playful to the point of being reckless, and definitely the follower of the two. Being a pure-bred his herding instinct was pretty strong and he loved it when my parent's baby-sat them when we were away -- lots of cows to bark at, cats to chase, etc. And for such a beautiful dog he was all boy-boy; he wanted to be outside, the dirtier the better. He'd stand his ground with another dog, but he was shy and timid around people; only when he was backing up Sting would he bark at a person.

Stinger's favorite thing to do was ride in a car. If you happened to leave the door open, he'd jump in and not get out until you either dragged him out our drove him around the block. Percy puked every time he got in the car unless you gave him dramamine half an hour before you went anywhere, and then he'd be dopey. Stinger didn't like kids; Percy was a kid magnet. Sting's eyes would follow any conversation a group of people were having. Percy would leave the room if people came over.

And while we doted on our pups they weren't "spoiled." They didn't jump on people, nor beg from the table. They slept in dog beds -- Stinger in our room, Percy in his prefered spot downstairs. We had one couch they could get on but Percy never got on the furniture unless it was thundering and lightning and then he'd try to crawl into your lap (all 50 pounds of him) where ever you were and there was nothing you could do about it.

Stinger was definitely a free-thinker. I often watched him make decisions -- this toy or that, lie on the couch today or the floor. One special oddity was that there was a certain piece of kibble mixed up in his dog food that he didn't like and he'd spit just those shapes out. After dinner there would always be a pile of bone-shaped bits next to his empty dog bowl. He didn't eat what he didn't like.

I used to say that it was God's cruel joke that he created man's best companion with only a 10 - 14 year lifespan. Since they were both full-grown dogs when we got them we really had no idea how old they were, but we had Sting for about 12 years and Perce for about 10. Long enough to get hopelessly attached.

Stinger went first. As he aged and slowed down, we took care him. He had hip dysplasia and we gave him all the meds he needed as well as provided aqua-therapy, accupuncture (which he hated and for the second time in his life tried to bite someone, so we quit that shit), and hired a dog massage therapist, which he loved.

His personality was very intense and we decided that as long as he was "him" -- engaged, enthusiastic, demanding -- and whatever pain he was in was managed, then we'd do whatever we could for him. Then one day he stopped being him. He would no longer sleep under my desk but instead started curl up as far from me as he could get. Instead of staring us down if we were late with his food he would act disinterested even if we profered his prefered treat -- cheddar cheese. He stopped raising his head when we petted him and didn't lick our hands at all.

So one Friday night, after a particularly tough day, we made the decision it was time for him to die. The appointment was set for Monday and the vet was coming to our house so our pup could die at home. He always hated the vet's office and I couldn't bear to think he would be afraid in h is last moment on this earth.

So the morning came -- a bright, cool, clear spring day -- and at 11:00 am Vince carried him outside and we laid him on his favorite doggie bed under a shady tree; I laid down beside him and ran my fingers through his fur to calm him. Vince had one hand on me and the other on Sting. We told him goodbye and Vince said to go ahead. Then the woman injected him with the poison that stopped his heart and breathing.

I lay on the ground, sobbing, for what felt like an eternity even after Vince carried his corpse to the vet's car so he could be cremated.

Less than a year later, Percy changed. Our playful, athletic dog who loved nothing more than to chase cats and run around the yard barking at full tilt could no longer stand on his own. This time the vet couldn't come to us, so we placed our delicate and only remaining "child" in the back of the van and drove him to only place on earth, other than the inside of a car, that he hated. He trembled and tried hopelessly to stand so I sat cross legged on the floor and curled him into my lap, just like he'd do when storms came. The same vet came in, and once again, Vince's hands on both of us, he gave the word and my baby died in my arms.

About two months later, I began helping with the care of my grandparents. For a year I drove two hours to spend two days a week in their full time care -- washing, bathing, cooking, cleaning, reading, diapering, massaging, feeding, medicating, etc.

The night before my grandmother died I lay in the bed next to her, stroking her hair, massaging her frail skin. It was the end and I knew it. Sometimes she was afraid, other times expectant, other times resigned. This night, she was aware. The next morning, she died.

Nine month later, for the first time in his ninety-five years, my grandfather couldn't stand, he didn't wake up that morning, didn't get out of bed. I held his hand and watched as his heart could no longer pump his blood and it started to pool in his arms, legs, and face. My mother asked me to go get another tape (he was a huge fan of old country music and gospel and we played it for him constantly) and in the time I was gone from the room, he too left this world.

Like I said earlier, everybody dies at the end -- Merle, Stinger, Percy, Granny, Granddaddy, Old Yeller, Shakespeare. Me and you. Our parents and our children. Who we are when we're here, what we learn, and what we leave behind, matters. Maybe not to a lot of people, hell, maybe only to a few. But loving someone or something, learning from them, caring for them, and sending them on their way is a part of this life.

If you have an interest, read "Merle's Door." You can learn a lot from a free-thinking dog.

The Lanes take a trip!!

Hi folks! Just a quick little note to let you all know I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. In fact, Vince and I have been busy with work, family, the usual and are taking a little time off.

Thanks to some flight fuck ups last year, we had some free airline travel, hotel bonus points and what not and decided to spin the globe and go somewhere (at least where the airline went!)

So here we are.....

San Antonio and Austin, TX!!

Last night we spent on the Riverwalk and ended up at Coyote Ugly. One of the things we've learned is that as much as we enjoy the romantic walks and nice dinner's for two, there's just something about going someplace you can let your hair down and get a bit sexy that just makes us feel "right." It's was strange though; I was one of only about 4 or 5 other women in the place. The couple next to us had the Lifestyle vibe but we didn't push it. The other ladies were considerably older but they were definitely having a ball! One woman in particular was invited up on the bar to dance with a Coyote and let me say, the lady didn't embarrass herself. She had the moves!

The photo is two of the Coyotes on the bar getting doused with a barrel of water. It was hot out, so they probably enjoyed it on more than one level. :)

But the gents kinda saddened me a bit. This may be assuming wayyyyyyy too much, but a lot of them seemed a bit pathetic -- looking up at the 20-year old dancers, knowing that they were going back to their conventioneer hotels or where ever, after being stalked by bouncers with the initial BMF on their shirts (Bad Mother Fucker and OMG they were!). But the thing is they gave the impression of voyeurs, little boys doing something "bad." I have the sneaking suspicion that their wives or girlfriends aren't part of this because they can't be, they can't enjoy this atmosphere with their beloved, only in the darkness, hidden from them.

One guy might have a problem though. He was partaking in (and paying for) the body shots from the gals and his chosen Coyote, standing on the bar, his head tucked firmly between her legs, leaned over, pulled up his shirt and with a Sharpie started writing on his back. What she wrote was "I like having sex with dick here" with an arrow drawn down to his ass crack. His buddies thought that was hysterical, and I admit, so do I; but Sharpie is fucking hard to remove and if he's heading home to wifey-poo in the next day or so, he's got a bad night ahead of him.

Vince was going back to the hotel with me, and let me tell ya, that makes all the difference. ;) We're not so sexually adventurous that we'd pick up strangers in a bar; but the fact that we both know that we WOULD have an adventure with the right folks in the right place makes the night in question even sexier. Strange but true.

Now we're off to Austin! Going to check out some music, theatre, museums, etc. And while we're there try to meet up with a fantastic writer and person I've been following on-line for quite some time. She's awesome, and the chance to have a drink with her is one of the new wonders I'm finding in this blogger-like world. Some people I read their material and think "holy hell!", other I read and think "interesting, but not relevent to me", a few feel like they are just a few steps farther down life's path and yelling back cautions and encouragment. And then there are a few, who I feel like I "should" know. It's as if there is a connection, that magical click that so many people describe, and it just jumps off the screen as I read the thoughts they choose to share with the world. She's in the last group.

Anywhoooo, I'm reading blogs but not commenting much since we're having a ball here. I'll catch you all next week!

Just a reminder....

For some people,

Mother's Day

is the hardest day

of the year.

HNT -- Entwined

Happy HNT everyone!!

And after a wonderful session of love-making, we lie together; entwined in each other physically and emotionally, coming down from the high into the quiet valley of connection. Simple.... yet magic.

Don't forget to go to Osbasso's for the rest of the Half-Nekkidness!!