Reporting on Bits and Bobs

I know I have been rather quiet lately. I do hope that this will end shortly, once I am freed from the demands of study. I do not want this blog to disappear, or fade into the obscure ether of the net (and I know my adoring fans don't want it to either).

My date last week was ... okay. We had been exchanging messages online for a while, and some things he said certainly resonated with me, but I had told myself quite firmly to trust my instincts on this one (as they have proved right on every prior occasion despite my best efforts, both to ignore them and try and make it work), and my gut instinct the moment I saw him was a resounding 'no'. It was a good meal, decent conversation, nice date, but beyond that ... neehh. Having missed my bus he offered me a ride home, which I really didn't want to do but I didn't have much of a choice ... wish I hadn't, the ride home was the worst part and would be the sole reason for lack of later contact. But that's neither here nor there.

I have been fretting over what to wear to the fetish ball for a while and have finally settled on the blue gown featured in my very first HNT, though my subconscious came up with a rather interesting alternative last week. I dreamed of going to the ball dressed as a fox furrie, but not in the traditional all-concealing fur-suit. Nope, all I was wearing were knickers with attached tail, shoe-paws, ears, and body paint. It's something that I would really like to try some time, but for this event I don't have the supplies or the prep time (or the confidence!). My furrie inclinations are not something that get much exercise, given the negligibly small local community, but I am determined to make a couple of suits and have some fun with it. BDSM is my life, but fur is fun.

I am getting exponentially more excited the closer I get to flying out to Southern Exposure. I have been largely trying to just not think about it to keep it from interfering with other work that needs doing, but I don't think I can stop it now! I have one more exam tomorrow, then I have to run for a bus, grab luggage and I'm immediately off to the airport!

I'm going to Southern Exposure!

Perfection, Expectations and Pain

There's a lot of Masters who put high demands on slaves. Confliction over whether I can meet these demands frequently makes me upset, and hurts me deeper and longer than a whipping. Yet these are often silly demands, completely rediculous to be expected of me by these people who don't even know me.

So many Masters have told me that if I am going to submit, that I have to do it all at once, that the last choice I make is going to be in submitting to them and afterwards every single decision is to be theirs, and I must simply trust them to decide what is best for me. I think this is not only foolishness, but absolute stupidity. How can they possibly know what is best for me when they barely know me?

There are many shades of grey in submission, and varying levels of trust, not the black and white they would have me believe. To throw myself blindly and fully trusting into their clutches is just asking for heartache and quite possibly injury, yet this is what I am repeatedly told I must do.

What utter nonsense.

There are great depths to who I am that not even my longest lasting Master reached in the years we were together, and these people who don't even have a clue think that they can Master me?

Why the heck do I keep letting these idiots berate me?

Just because I'm not going to leap head first into water that may be far too shallow does not mean I'm going to always be alone, I am not the sole cause of a relationship failure and I do not make myself miserable on purpose, and I'm tired of hearing from these jackasses that I do.

I think I've run out of steam for this rambling rant now.