carpe diem

where to go now?

Sunday, November 3, 2013


Do you love when you're in a group of people and you see little hints of D/s and it makes you wonder about the stories behind the little gestures?

I went to a party last night.  There was a couple there, the woman slightly older, the man a bit younger. I've met them before, and was struck by the same things then.

She seemed to be in her early 50s, overweight but still attractive, well dressed. She had on those high boots that I always think Dommes should wear. 

He was nice looking but a bit anxious seeming. Or was that just attentive? He's tall, slim, he obviously works out. I'd say he was about 38, maybe a little older.

He brought her plates of things, they fed each other.

Their talk ranged from casual to pretty sexual, hmmm, had sexual elements in it. It wasn't uncomfortable for bystanders or eavesdroppers.

And they touched each other a lot.  Just little touches, a hand on a thigh, a shoulder, the middle of his back.

In my mind, they are a Domme and her boy. They've been together a long time; they're good together. And whether in or out, he serves her, he brings her things, he is at her command. The feed each other food, he because that's what she orders, she feeds him because he loves taking food from her hands. It's funny, how feeding someone can be service or something a little humiliating depending on the point of view.

I don't think they did it when they got home last night. The Domme was tired. But probably this morning, as I write this, he's serving her somehow. Either servicing her body, as she commands, as he knows she likes, or bringing her breakfast afterward.

Mmmmm. Lucky them.

Saturday, November 2, 2013


Have you seen this?

It's a princessified version of famous women. 

How did I miss this? 

Recognize them? I knew some, had to look others up. 

They are, from left to right: Marie Curie, Anne Frank, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Harriet Tubman, Malala, Hillary, Jane Goodall, Gloria Steinem, Rosa Parks, Susan B.Antony. 

Last spring, Disney princessified Merida, who was the heroine in Brave to look like all the other princesses. The reason was to sell product, but the problem, and the reason for all the fuss, was that Merida was billed as the anti-princess, she was supposed to be different from all the other princesses and to not care about conventional beauty and to resist the trappings. She was supposed to be a role model for girls who might want someone to look up to that wasn't all about looks. I think maybe Disney missed that point.

So this artist, David Trumble, painted this World of Women, where he depicted women heroines as princesses. It was meant to be a joke, a provocative image, a conversation starter.

I love the idea. I think it's a good conversation starter.

Let me start by saying I was a Barbie girl. I looooved Barbies when I was little. And I like being pretty as an adult.I like dressing up, I like nice clothes, and I like feeling that people think I'm pretty.

But I recognize that there's a lot more to being important, successful, or a good role model than just pretty. And the message that girls and women are blasted with is all about perfectly pretty.

And so Merida was important. Because she gave girls permission to be other than beautiful and still be successful and happy.

As all these women are important. In bigger ways. And they've been enhanced? reduced? to princesses.

And I love the ironic take on it.

I found some of the transformations more shocking than others. The most shocking? Maybe Anne Frank. And Hillary.


It's Complicated

In stories and movies and in our thinking, relationships are supposed to "progress".

They become more important, more committed, more intense. There's more time, more emotion, more everything. And then they live happily ever after. Or something.

My relationship is going the other way. Less of all that. And yet I'm supposed to just hang on.

It's not over. It's fine.

But it's shifted from the exotic and entrancing thing it was.

And some days I'm happy with it. Or at least content.

Other days I'm frustrated because I know what it was. I say frustrated, but that includes a sad and angry and resigned. And fearful that it's getting worse faster.

On rare days, it's blissful and that recharges me.

It's complicated I guess.