Feb 182009
 

Since I taught a class on Tact and Diplomacy and yadda yadda and talked about shit like “gracious communication” and using “I feel” and “I think” statements, I sure as hell better practice what I preach.

Or at least give it my best fucking shot.

I was proud that, despite the occasional disappointment, fleeting moment of excruciating discomfort, and shrieking cliffs of self-doubt, I did manage to get through a 3 day event without a total nervous breakdown.

Win!

LOTS of that was due to the kick ass Twitterfolk with whom I met up at the event. I’d met a few of them last month in NY, and hooked up with even more Tweeterz at Dark Odyssey. I can’t say enough abut the benefit of having online friends with whom you can meet-up at these events.

The smoothness of the weekend is also due to the stellar job of organizing executed by the Dark Odyssey team.

I have been to a few perv conventions. And for an event of this scope to have had no major issues, for the attitude to be smooth and relaxed, for there to be so many presenters and so many guests, and for the small fires that did come up to have been resolved with such grace is stunning.

To the faces of Dark Odyssey, Tristan, Colten, Karri and Greg, I say

Holy fucking shit y’all kicked ALL kinds of ass!!

And a thanks to the dozens of volunteers who gave of themselves and their time. You rocked the mike.

Both of my classes were, I felt, well-attended considering they weren’t showy technique shindigs.

The promotional mixer I hosted on Saturday night went well too, and for that I am grateful.

I was especially delighted to see a crowd that was far more diverse than most BDSM events I attend. At one point, while in a cluster of folks chatting I noted that we’d reached historically illegal levels of Negrosity…so I immediately busted out and played my RACE cards. I was sure to share them with all the People of Color present. They came in handy later as well, with a kinkster of Jewish extraction. So watch out, people! Fuck around and you might find that friendly neighborhood minority playing a RACE card on ya. BOOYACHAKA!

Traveling solo and being single, I had little thought that I might have the opportunity to play or participate in a scene over the weekend.

But I’m foolishly optimistic, and so I had some hope that I might happen upon just the right situation and wind up playing.

On the first night I did receive a solicitation…from a slightly tipsy submissive man.

Not quite my speed, but he was very nice and totally a hoot! I’ll even forgive him for expressing his “disappointment” about the fact I wasn’t a dominant.

I get that so often I can’t even bother to be unsettled by the potential / implied lack of respect for my me-ness in that kind of attitude.

And frankly, there is no way he could know that is a nagging sticking place of mine and that I will, now and again,  late at night squeeze my eyes shut real right and thump my heels together three times whispering “There’ s No Space Like Domme… There’ s No Space Like Domme…There’ s No Space Like Domme…” wondering if maybe, just maybe, if I wish hard enough…I’ll wake up in the morning with a thirst to have obedience poured across my lips like so much honeyed mead on the tongue of a Egyptian queen with a flinty gaze sparking from her kohl-rimmed smoky topaz-eyes… like so many rivulets of blood rushing over the burning feet of Kali as she devours her victims, willing or un…

But alas, I always seem to wake up and am, once again, a solo submissive, slaving away, schlepping kitteh poop, working all day to being home the Science Diet Senior to two four legged furry feline switches.

But Sunday morning…ah. Delight.

Play Date Bitches!!

Please note: the time stamp is in PST and I was livin' in EST. No bloody fucking way was I up that fucking early on a Sunday. *pfft*

I was a little excited.

Long day and long story short, it was much later in the evening when, showered, stretched out, warmed up and ready to go I flitted downstairs to the main Dungeon space to track down and get busy with the play-partner with whom I was very excited to scene.

Alas, even from across the Dungeon I immediately sensed that tonight was not gonna be the night.

It wasn’t surprising that he was tired:  it had been a long day.  And of course I was am glad to have been asked, and there will, hopefully soon, be another opportunity for us to play in the future.

So “Mature Mollena” was smiling, being all calm and Zen, and understanding that hey, shit happens, and at least I had an afternoon of sweet anticipation. That is cool!

However “Inner Child  Mo” wasn’t at all serene and was jiving more like this now infamous chick…

I was bummed out.  Feeling disinclined to watch other people having the kind of fun I wanted to have, I was about to swiftly depart the Dungeon to hide in my room once more.

Just as I was grinding my teeth together in the middle of that external vs. internal split, I noted a gal who’d been in one of my classes standing several feet away, expectantly, but respectful of the several conversations in which I was engaged. I started chatting with her and wow was I glad I did.

It was stunning how, just as I was about to be a piteous poutygurl, I received the most precious gift of all: one person telling me that she was moved and changed by what I had to say in my class.

I had a catch in my throat because, I mean, holy shit. Seriously?

How beautiful that on the heels of nipping nipping nipping at at the blue-grey Eeyore-esque ass of self-pity was this bright-eyed lovely girl who shared with me the best feedback of all: I made a difference.

If I flew across the country for just that, Dayenu.

Feb 142009
 

Day two of the Dark Odyssey event and frankly, it is pretty great.

My sleep patterns are crazy! My dreams are even crazier…last night involved a complicated play involving a friend of mine attempting to fuck me up the ass behind every door in the room of a 56 room Victorian mansion..yesh. It was, at the very least, a vivid fucking dream.

Lord.

There are fewer things more surreal than walking through a hotel ballroom and knowing a scant few days before, the inhabitants had no idea that, only days later, well over eight hundred kinksters, newbies to veterans, would come together to meet up, hook up, hang out, and in some cases….get hooked up and hung from their very skin…

My first class on “Diplomacy and Tact in D/S” was on the opening round of classes. I was nervous because it is the top of the event, most folks aren’t even here yet, I’m up against some pretty zesty competition…all this. Yet, hey, I had a wonderful group of people who came to listen and to share their own experiences.

It was fantastic.

Despite my intense fretting, I felt very good about the class.

I would like to personally thank all of the people who came to that first class, and who came up afterwards to express their enjoyment of it.

It is tough to put yourself out there again and again. To me, it feels like a tightrope walk with the stakes being an embarrassing splat and leaving people feeling as though the one thing I cannot give back to them, their time, wasn’t well spent.

I am feeling grateful that people take the time to not only come to listen to my ideas and also share their own experiences. And I am SUPREMELY grateful to the people who, after the class, came up to express their thanks and enjoyment…and those who, throughout the day, came up with a smile and shared that they enjoyed the class. Those moments are our compensation for our work.

And for that I am profoundy appreciative.

I did some networking with some folks I knew from Twitter, and I find it miraculous how the camaraderie of that fucking network has, universally, translated to my meeting wonderful people.

And then to see them play.

It is always thrilling to walk into a play party and watch the myriad ways people play, from brand newbies performing tentative spanks in a shadowy corner to a woman in an inverted 2-point suspension on a winch… blissed out…to the acrid nose-wrinkling stink of burned hair from fire play to the burst of raw energy as flesh-hooks pull a woman five feet from the floor…a Wendy without a Peter Pan, flying flying flying amidst a circle of smiling friends and admirers.

There is a wistful feeling in watching so much energy exchanged when you are solo…but it is still fascinating to be able to share the joy and pain and joyous pain of those fortunate enough be able to play in this dark fantasyland.

I’m a little lonely today.

Isn’t it odd how, even with so many smiling people around, loneliness can still creep in with prickly little claws that eke out glittering lachrymal tribute, when you least expect it…?

Now. Let’s see if I have the smile left in me to venture forth into the late night Dungeon…

Dec 062008
 

I will be leaving beautiful San Francisco to visit our nation’s capital twice within a one-month period. W000t!

This first is to take part in the stunning moment of history that is the Coronation Inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama.

I'll put my money with "Switch" on the orientation of the new PotUS

I'd put my money on "Switch" if I had to bet on where B.O. wears his keys...

Holyshit.

I still have a slow burn of effulgent shock when I think on what we did on November 4th.

The second is an event that, in its own way, makes history.

I’ll be participating in Dark Odyssey in February, over Valentine’s day weekend.

Dark Odyssey: Winter Fire. Perverati meet to beat meat.

Dark Odyssey: Winter Fire. Perverati meet to beat meat.

I am still not sure what classes-o-mine they’ve in mind to request from my CV, so I will be sure to share that as soon as I hear! I am honored, fucking humbled and THRILLED beyond belief to be in the company of the amazing roster of instructors and participants.

I have that poignant bittersweetness I always feel attending Leather Events solo. It would be so wonderful to be attending with a partner, to share the excitement of meeting new friends, celebrating our kinky diversity, loving our Pervy nature.

The paradox of having the freedom to roam a delightfully awesome fucking event and wishing that, perhaps, you weren’t so very free to roam is not lost on me. It has the sensation of being at the County Fair, sticky fist dripping with candy apple sweetness, whirling lights before your eyes illuminating the amusements as happy couples scream on the Tilt-a-Whirl, and realizing you have no one to hold your hand as you walk the FunHouse.