The Perverted Negress • Bubbles

My Demon is on NPR.

Aug 252012

Bubbles is having a diva moment…she’s a spotted hyena and feel misrepersented. I told them they got her look right and she can chill out.

As a storyteller, there are several landmarks ya hit when telling that resonate. The first time with a big audience. That first time revealing something you’ve never told. The first time you perform at a national event.

I’d hit all but two of my storytelling goals (at that time) when I received an e-mail from one of the producers of Snap Judgement, a really REALLY AMAZING show on NPR. As a lifelong Public Radio nerd, the idea of having one of MY stories on the radio turned me on beyond belief, but I was literally too shy to send in a pitch. Continue reading »

This is today. Tomorrow will, I’m sure, be different.

Aug 162012

There isn’t much grace or dignity in pouring out one’s guts all over the damn internet. I’m protective of my rough spots, mostly because I loathe the idea of The Haters smirking smugly at my difficulty. And also because it is pretty easy to look at someone’s life from the outside and assume they’re doing just fine. I’m sure to give an honest answer when I’m asked “Hey, how are you doing?” and that way, try to maintain some transparency. But the answer, most of the time, is not so simple.
It seems weird to say “Things are going really well…and I’m still sad.”

This is today.

Tomorrow will, I’m sure, be different. Continue reading »

What I’m not saying.

Jan 252012

Leather Reign The past month or so has been difficult in ways I’ve not seen before, and to a degree I’ve not previously experienced.

I’m used to doing my processing out loud, and it has helped me immensely. I thrive on tossing up my inner workings, letting them come to light, welcoming others to join the chorus of “Me, too!” and shine light into my dark corners, hoping that, by proxy, others feel less alone.

I’ve had some deep impact hits, life-altering shit that for which I do not yet have words, but weigh heavily on me. Part of what was so difficult is that my old coping mechanism (blackout alcoholism) no longer is viable, and my newer coping mechanism (sharing in the public forum) isn’t really viable in real-time, as is my wont.

I have had the challenge of now having to overcome my fear and having to reach out to my friends and say

“I don’t know what to do. I’m hurting. I need help.”

And quietly, beautifully, I’ve received it. From people I know well, from people I’ve only recently had in my life, from friends of decades of acquaintance. From kinky folks, from family, from Family, from people who don’t even realize that they are helping me get through this, one day at a time. Continue reading »

Breaking in the Slave.

Nov 152011

My beautiful, terrible demon.

I hadn’t cried like that in a long, long time. Crying is something I usually do for very short bursts, then it ebbs. Maybe a minute? Tops. And then I have done what I needed to do and can either sit with the emotion or start to recover from whatever triggered the collapse.

But this was way, way past that. I needed to cry so hard it wore me the fuck out. Because I could sense if I didn’t go balls-out on a good session of sobbing I’d be having random outbursts for an indefinite period of time and I sure as fuck didn’t have time for that.

The evening before, I’d had a conversation with The Dominant Guy that started out well. Very well, in fact. he was giving me direction regarding writing he wanted me to do. I was pleased because this is stuff we’ve had on the table for a while now, so I was glad to get a handle on it. But I felt oddly guarded and kind of off balance. I chalked it up to the fact that everything has been off-balance of late, we haven’t been communicating with as much consistency and life in general has been full of Stuff & Whatnot.

In the midst of the conversation there was a switchback, where I had to get some check-in and I’ve written a bit about what that was like.

The part that was only thinly referenced was what motivated the insane crying jag that erupted the next morning.

Now…in being involved with poly people, one has to assume that, well, they’re gonna do what poly people do and have other people in their lives. In the case of my being involved with The Dominant Guy, the mitigating circumstance, for me, was that the preexisting conditions in his life were known quantities to me. Wife, check. Girlfriend, check. Play-partners, check. According to the job-openings on his profile, he was looking for a slave.

So technically…technically? Logically? There was no reason for me to have a fuse lit when he told me that he and Mrs. TheDominantGuy were opening up discussion about again having someone in service to them.

Logically? Non-starter.

Emotionally however…holy shit.

When submission is a dry biscuit.

Oct 142011

Ah yes. The Hardtack of Humility. Delicious.

So…long-distance relationships are teh lame. We can agree they are not really all that ideal. Some times are easier than others. And there is a terrible amount of pressure on the time you can eke out to be together virtually, because by the time you have the bandwidth to talk, goddammit, it had better be connected, efficient. meaningful, moving, touching, vital…

Yeah.

A week of missed connections and tech-snafus and I finally…FINALLY had The Dominant Guy on the phone and FINALLY had the breathing room to tackle some Important Talking Things and FINALLY was able to get my feet under the things I wanted to say and had SOME coherent thought process in place…

And then I found myself gnawing on the Zen Dry Biscuit of Submission.

Relocation…? Bonus.

Oct 062011

SO, OK.

Um…its like…it feels like…

It feels like I’m smashing my head up against a hard rubber wall is what it feels like.

I spent some time during one of my classes at the Folsom Fringe event calmly muzzling my increasingly agitated Dæmon, Bubbles. There was a discussion going on about being monogamous when involved with poly people, and I asserted that I didn’t feel that monogamy and polyamory were very clear sides of the same coin. Monogamy has to do with marriage and polyamory has to do with emotional connections. I think we kinksters, usually so innovative, have been lazy about our verbiage here. And I think I want to be monoamorous. Or better yet, monoflexible. Blah blah yadda yadda and

that’s

different

post
…because right now what I wanna talk about is the noisiest, dirtiest most aggro denizen of my inner menagerie and that’s my (mostly un)friendly neighborhood Hyæna spirit. And what she has to say about my “Ultimate Compromise” (yeah whatever) of giving up on the idea of finding The One monogamous person with whom I’d fall in love and have a passionate connection and then with whom I’d be all slaverytime nummyummygummy goodness.

Whenever well-meaning people point out I’d probably be happier if I just eased back into a polyamorous configuration, I wince inside. It isn’t the hard-wiring for me. It feels like a challenge to do poly. Monogamous relationships don’t have that “IN YOUR FACE” from get-go like poly does for me.

So. Is it true? Have I just “given up” on waiting…after fifteen years of waiting…have I collapsed under the weight of loneliness and compromised some core aspect of my monogamous heart so I can scramble for crumbs from someone who will never put me first? Am I making someone priority when I am only an option for them?