"He was totally smothering me. Called me like two times last week'"

I’ve had a few spectacular geekouts on the O/p board over the years, however as this led to a few  people learning of Firefly I think this probably counts as a good thing. Possibly worthy of a sainthood. Anyway, I am about to excel myself by doing what Douglas Coupland referred in Generation X as ‘Tele-Parablizing: Morals used in everyday life that derive from TV sitcom plots' - "That's just like the episode where Jan lost her glasses."

And that's every bit as bonkers as it sounds, because the following naval gazing was brought to you today thanks to The Guild  And yes, I know that The Guild isn't a TV show. Generation X was published in 1991, times change, work with me here.

In The Guild there is a character called Tink, aka Tinkerballa aka April Lu. Tink’s a young woman who strolls through life, trading on her nubile pocket Princess proportions, and the fact that she is a rare commodity in her world, namely a hot gamer girl. Her basic MO is to lure in hapless men who want her to serve her every whim, use them, and then discard them.  She embraces shallow as an art form, and likes to imply that if you scratched her surface – well actually if you scratched her surface she’d take your eyes out, but aside from that, she likes to imply that if you scratched her surface you’d find the hidden shallows of your most hollow imaginings. 

 

As I'm not a cool, edgy, young Asian woman, or a hot gamer girl either, (oh cruel life), you may be wondering how I could feel the slightest iota of recognition toward Tink, with with her penchant for teeny bubble gum bikinis, and bouncy shiny hair. Well have faith - and remember I've had painkillers.

Tink tends to see human interaction as commerce. So when she meets a guy who understands the score upfront, and is happy with a ‘you give me cool stuff and in return you get to hang out with me’ kind of deal she is happy because he gets her. She can get adoration and gifts from most guys, but this one gets her! Oh sweet day. No more game playing! No need for tiring analysis! Just being!

..... then after a while the fact that he gets her means it stops being all about trading, and she starts to actually like him. Because he gets her. And I get that.Get it?

Nigel was totally down with the fact I can be hard as all living Hell when required. He kind of likes that about me - though perhaps not so much when directed at him ;) But he gets his jollies watching me do my thing. He also knows that I'm a mean sadist and he’s cool with that too, we kind of bonded over it. More than that though, he knows that I am really crap at doing things like talkingaboutmyfeelings or indeed emoting in any obvious manner. He knows that I tend to say 'fuck off ' in response to some things that nice girls are 'meant' to do, and he makes no attempt to ‘cure’ me, change me or understand the ins and out of the why and the how, he just leaves those things alone. Sweet Jesus that’s nice. 

And what do you know? By never trying to get me to be more open/ softer he makes me inclined to be more open/ softer. Being accepted as the whole eclectic package that I am is cool.

I could tell you dozens of stories of people meeting me in one context and assigning some image or another to me based on this.For example;

Genus - Earth Mother type. Sample reasons: Kids, many, including several who weren’t mine. Vaguely hippy type leanings. Nurturing type. 

Genus - Ditz. Sample reasons: I like glitter and I used to go clubbing a lot. 

Genus - Academic, earnest individual. Sample reason: academics are all earnest so you must be.

Genus - ‘Survivor‘ (God help me). Reason: I’m not dead and you can see the scars on my palms. Yawn. This one appeals to people who like to angst all over the place or want to empower themselves.

Genus - Raving nymphomaniac sex kitten. Reason: I like orgasms, I’m bisexual and I have a lot of cleavage. See also Ditz, above.

Genus - Geek: ...   Utterly inexplicable.

Oh the dramas for people when I turned out to be a real person. There was a Buddhist who decided I his perfect Earth Mother Goddess and foresaw a life of us changing the world together, one lentil at a time. He was heartbroken when I turned up for dinner with a teeny glittery bag because I was out dancing afterwards. I could tell you about far too many academics who consider buying an overpriced bottle of plonk at some stodgy conference to be letting their hair down, and assume the same of me. I could go on, but you get the gist.

Meanwhile Nigel just sees all this stuff plus all the other stuff, and gets that it’s all just part of the funny little package known as me. And that is why as time goes by he gets to know the other bits of me too.. Because he gets the baseline; I’m in charge, I am interested in experiencing life on my terms, and that in no way indicates that I want what anyone may expect me to based on whatever the image of me they have in their head may be; I feel far more inclined to include him in the plan.

And the side effect of this is just like the one for the divine Miss Tink. He gets me, as I am, so he ends up getting more of me.  

Life is funny isn’t it?

WFH

I'm prioritising at present and putting my energies where I need them to be, in response to all kinds of stuff - the above thus reflects my current charming approach to Life. I have nasty infections and I'm on antibiotics, I'm at the hospital again soon, and the Doctor tomorrow. I am tired. Medical doom-mongering may however go and fuck itself sideways, and I'm back to dealing with things my way for a bit. The options are for interested parties to assist or get out out of my way. Life is so much easier that way.

Anyway, I may not around much but I'm doing ok - because I say so :)  

Teapot porn

The teaset I have been raving about. Badly photographed but it gives you the gist.

I find imagining frisky men looking for Femdom or chastity stuff and finding this instead really entertaining.

The last 48 hours.

• N had a motorbike accident involving a large male deer running fast into the bike. It’s a miracle he’s alive really, there are loads of fatalities here for people in cars let alone being hit on a bike. He is basically ok, a few small injuries only. Astonishingly he managed to avoid actually coming off the bike, thank God. If he had come off I wouldn't fancy his chances.
• We had a small but distressingly fast-growing fire, which I was putting out at exactly the same time that N staggered home announcing his crash, so I was trying to deal with both these things at once with a young shrieking child in tow for that added touch of worry.
• The bike is badly smashed up in numerous places, obviously. It won't be covered on the insurance for lengthy reasons.
• N has had his ECG and the results of that thankfully seem fine at least. That is a great relief to me.
• The results of his bloodwork should be in tomorrow.
• He now needs to get his lungs checked.
• If anyone wants me I will be curled up in a ball in the corner hitting my head repeatedly on the wall. N cannot for the life of him understand why I may be stressed to fuck by the way - I'm going to need a fucking ECG at this rate.

Spring is back and so am I (well, nearly).

Spring is springing here, and with it my health appears to be returning. Oh the joy. Oh forest how I’ve missed you! Cities! Coffee shops! Shops! The river! Oh wide world how I’ve missed you! It feels like I am buried under a heap of rocks, and then I get to venture back Out There. Oh the joy, the joy.

Yesterday I got N to drive me over to Bury as I needed sandals. I basically wear boots, sandals and trainers at home and as it is warm enough for the boots to go away new sandals were needed. I got a pretty bronzey pair that are comfy enough to walk around in all day but still easy on the eye so I am pleased. Since my health went downhill the stylishness of my footwear has sadly gone with it much of the time.

The thing is though, when I have been out of action for months on end as soon as I get out properly there are loads of things I want to buy. So after the sandals I bought myself a polka dot dress and some leggings, a beautiful dress from Monsoon for the munchkin to wear to the upcoming wedding of one of my best friends, matching pretty things to go with it, hair colour for me, bake ware, teeny snack tubs because when I am very low carbing it’s easier to just chuck some snacks in a tub than try to find somewhere that sells what I can eat, Easter treats for people and goodness knows what else. We stopped for coffee and spent some time chatting. Then in the evening he drove us down to the river at a beautiful place near us and we strolled around happily. It’s nice having someone to do the gentle transitional things with.

The only O/p blog bringing you Bambi rather than bondage - you love me really.

This morning I went for a lovely walk in the forest where I live. And I’m sitting here now with the windows open with the sun coming in sipping iced cold brew coffee topped up with ginger beer (drink of the Gods).

Anyway, astute readers may have noticed the walking and very low carbing are back. Aside from my yet again squooshed fitness levels which need dragging back up again, I have, as always when I flare and end up not able to do anything, put loads of weight on. So, I’m VLC-ing and for now just trying to build up with walking again. It takes about a month of walking before I am back enough to exercise more properly but if I overpush it it’s counterproductive. This is a bit pesky as the above mentioned wedding is in three weeks and I would have liked to be a bit less fat for that, especially as I am now going to be more ‘visible’ than I had expected having been asked to make a speech and do things (I always seem to get asked to give speeches at weddings, I have no idea why).

What else? Well N has been going for tests. I am worried and going extremely easy on him at present. He doesn’t like the fact I am going easy on him, but that’s tough. There are bigger concerns than whether he’s overjoyed with the current status quo. I want a healthy living slave not a devoted dead one. He is going to have to put up with it.  

So anyway, I have very little that is scintillating to tell you. Enforcing a life that appears vanilla (well relatively) on the surface is probably one the most obscure things I have ever done. N is craving normality back, but for now I am forcing him to enjoy the sunshine and take it as easy as possible. I'm such a bitch. 

Why we *really* need to win the football.

You know I said the slave was not well? Well today began with me ringing for an emergency appointment then frogmarching him to the Doctor. You see left to his own devices, he suffers from 'Suffer And Worry Those Around You Constantly About One’s Health But Avoid Going To The Dr At All Costs Syndrome'. It’s a common English disease, especially amongst the male populous. I blame it on us not winning the World Cup since 1966, and can only conclude it's some subconscious attempt to prove their masculinity to redress the balance.    

Anyway, he staggered into the Dr this morning looking very unwell indeed, grey of pallor, breathless, and with what was obviously rather bad kidney pain. My parting words were that if they didn’t suggest one he was to ask for a diabetes test, and to get a flipping new inhaler.    

He emerged again a few minutes later with referrals for an ECG and a diabetes test (neither of which he had to ask for), and a prescription for a new inhaler (ditto). The Doctor said the region he had said pain in was indeed his kidneys and seemed rather concerned, not giving N the impression that he thought he was wasting his time at all (no shit Sherlock).

Anyway, he is at least now going to prodded and poked to find out what’s going on with him. I’m glad he is getting checked out at least.

Some people need to be flipping well owned. All that hysterical online worry about slaves having limbs amputated by power-mad owners particularly makes me laugh as I am fairly certain that if N were to accidentally sever a limb he would try to look stoic and causally say 'Oh it's nothing to worry about, I'll just take some lemsip then I'm bound to grow a new one' as he looked for a mop to clean up the arterial blood gushing on the oak flooring before it stained.

'Honestly, I'm fine Mistress. No problems here!'

Snuggly Sunday

N is not feeling great at present, he has a lot of pain and is really struggling. So it was especially lovely to find he had helped arrange lots of particularly lovely things for me today. I have had presents, flowers, afternoon tea including a frankly obscene amount of cake, and we snuggled up and watched a movie and then I took a nap. It’s all been very nice and snugglesome and probably the last thing anyone wants to read about. Good slaving N :)

Tra la la.