Forbidden

His ex-wife was crazy. He'd had to have her placed in care. He had sole custody of the kids.

His girl friend fled, frightened by his intensity, so he thought.

He started to go by a nickname. He couldn't use the real one, the one he'd chosen long before they'd had the kids. Instead he used a bastard form.

At home he dressed as he truly felt.

More people found out what he and the kids had always known.

Eventually CPS found out and they took the children.

She couldn't live as Ami any more.

She couldn't live at all.

Absurd

If you've ever seen a dog show, you know that there's a lot of running around the ring.

The first dog pissed on one of the posts.

All the male dogs run. All the female dogs. Each dog on its own. All the dogs together. Each dog as part of being exhibited. The dogs the judge wants to see again. More than once around too !

At any rate, the very first dog pissed on a post. So did each and every other male dog and the vast majority of the bitches. Each time they passed that post. Without breaking stride.

Pressure

Pressure drops. Mood swings. Headaches. Even Mother Nature can inflict consequences.

Sometimes you were lucky. You'd know the cause for the weepiness and anxiety. Of course, a blinding migraine isn't what most people call luck.

Other times you'd no idea that there were external causes, or more accurately, you traced the oddnesses and inadequacies of your own life, and even your menstrual cycle, none of which seemed an adequate explanation for the dread.

Added to the angst, you'd find yourself questioning your sanity. Why the hell did you feel this hemmed in?

Hours later, when the storm broke, you'd know.

Artistry

We all have deep rich feelings. All too many of us attempt to express them with little or no idea of how.

We create a splatter of undigested emotion, and offer it up to an audience.

You'd think pornography would be an exception: we all climax (at least it's to be hoped that we do). Read or watch. How much is erotic or even arousing? How often do you change the channel, or turn off the sound? How often do you switch to the next story? So much is ineffective. So much is merely sad.

We don't learn enough technique.

Frustration

100 words on frustration

Feb 7, 2006 8:01 am Mood: frustrated, 19 views

I have a reasonably good eye for technique (like all daughters of the bourgeoisie I had years of dance lessons). Thus, it's very annoying when I can't translate what I see into movement. There are tricks -- look at the feet, walk throught the routine with your hands, etc. Sometimes the tricks don't work. I used to get so angry I'd cry. That's the point at which a teacher comes over. Of course, by then I'm so tangled in my own (lack of) perception that the correction won't register. The teacher demonstrates repeatedly. I'm the uncarved block: it makes no impression.

Kisses

100 words on kisses

Jan 30, 2006 8:08 pm Mood: eager, 211 views

When you flirt you look up through your eyelashes (and yes, you can do that even if you're taller than your target). You look up through your eyelashes thinking warmth. You smile. You lower and raise your lashes slowly, continuing to smile, then bat them a little more quickly. Oh, you knew that! Next you approach, and gently, oh so gently, you flutter your lashes against a cheek. You draw back. Surprise on the face across from you. As you place your face close, and flutter your lashes again, you allow your lips to touch as you whisper: "butterfly kisses".

Home

100 words on home

Jan 11, 2006 6:17 pm 493 views

Finney was fourteen or so when I acquired him. He was never fully at ease, which isn't surprising. Transported to an entirely new environment. Most evenings he'd leave by the front door, and wander around the corner, checking with the couple at the end of the hall. He moved slowly, but purposefully. Sometimes he'd stand in the hallway of the apartment and yell. He got lost between the living room and the bedroom. I'd call to him and he'd dash in and jump on the bed. Even though the apartment wasn't quite right, nor the person, it was good enough.

Intimacy

100 words on intimacy

Jan 18, 2006 3:21 pm 387 views

We ate and drank too much. I don't remember all of the evening, but I spent a considerable part of it curled up next to the toilet. Nauseated yes, but mostly conforming myself to the cool tile. The three of them, having determined that I really wasn't dying, stayed in the living room. Someone came in and covered me with a throw. A while later I got up and we cabbed it back down town. I called to say I got home safely, and they checked the next day. I didn't need to apologize. They accepted that things fall apart

Masturbation

100 words on masturbation

Jan 23, 2006 9:28 am Mood: eager, 386 views

Hands are underrated. So many people, when asked which acts they love most, will opt for something oral. Please don't misunderstand -- truisms are, well, true. Of course oral sex is lovely. But hands! Ah, how wonderful and human. Yours, that know you best. Your lovers' that learn you, yet remain alien. Your hands regulate pace, arousal as even the best toys can't quite manage. Your hands transmit that arousal through their own nerves, and those of what they contact. Soft or hard. To open like this to your partner: the embrace, the kiss, the astounding personal quality of touch.

Forgiveness

100 words on forgiveness

Nov 24, 2005 7:10 am 429 views

Dismal weather. The subway was packed, the people near her stank. The elevator at home took ages to arrive, and then stopped at every floor. She entered the apartment. Paused. A funny scratching noise came from the bedroom. As she watched, a paw poked through a small hole in the door then scratched around some more widening the opening further. The freckled snout followed. She pushed the puppy's nose back inside, and opened the bedroom door. There they both were, eyes bright, tongues lolling, so pleased and proud that they'd made their way through an obstacle.

Discovery

It had snowed before they arrived, just enough to cover the old vegetable garden. Each morning they were sent out for exercise. They chased each other to the woods, first one in the lead then the other. Sometimes they slipped and fell several times before reaching the trees. Twenty endless minutes later they'd finish their tear, ending at the iced over brook. She'd splay herself on the ice, cooling down. They'd both munch on the snow. One morning the ice broke. The brook wasn't very deep, the water was very cold. Wading in frigid water was not, she found, her sport.

Regret

La Perla or Lise Charmel? Which should she buy? Last time she wore the latter the results were notable. Another set might have much the same effect. But the first time she wore La Perla the gold lace shone so beautifully on her skin. She bought both, delicate flowers on cream lace, and iridescent silver shining through black. At home, the radiator clanged, her skin felt dry. She bathed, and dressed, blackt, under the tank top, tights and a skirt. Off to dinner. As her food arrived, she caught sight of her chilled profile. She should have worn a sweater

A first meeting

She opened the carrier. He edged out. His fur was no longer smooth. His eyes were bright blue shards. She learned later that that is common in Siamese, and called "iris atrophy". He explored slowly, keeping himself against the wall, moving one foot at a time. Now left, that's a hallway. Door. A room. Another room. Back he came moving surprisingly quickly. A box? Good. A couch. Soft. More walls. She sat on the couch. He jumped up to it. Aiming for her lap? Maybe. No, What then? The couch arm, the cabinet. The lamp! Seated himself. Ah. That's warm.

Deception

9pm. 10. 11. Cell, land line. No answer. Sleep. 9am. 10. Cell. 11. Both. Noon. Both. Still no answer. Not home? Not talking? Otherwise engaged. 11pm once more. Finally a pick up. "Of course I was home. Where else? No, darling, just a headache. Well if I'd known-! How could I? You know what I'm like. You'd have hated it, really. No, nothing. Tomorrow then? Of course." 9am "Yes, yes, I know what I said, but today is just as bad. Could it be tomorrow? Please? Tomorrow. Yes. I promise." 1pm "I told you already. Delighted. Thank you so much."

The hardest truth - no

Explanations aren't always helpful. You think giving a reason will soften a blow, until your interlocutor pushes you more, and you find yourself blurting something out. And by this time you're angry at the other. When someone tells you no, you think that the simple refusal must have more behind it. So you ask. So you find out that you were the problem. You don't want to know that your interlocutor hates your cooking. Don't offer a kind (and probably false) explanation. Stick to your guns. When someone says no, learn to judge that the extended answer will hurt you.

Resolutions

Growing up in a part of the country where the Jewish holidays are celebrated yields someone who never got over thinking of the New Year as starting in September. Add in that life changing crises don't seem to have hit in December, forcing me to take action in months other than January. In fact, the thought of waiting that long to fix a problem makes me antsy. Perhaps I should work on impatience. All of this leads to my not having New Year's Resolutions. Somehow I stopped smoking anyway, and lost the weight that immediately

If I could do anything

100 words on if I could do anything...

Jan 2, 2006 4:06 pm 585 views

I would sing. I mean really sing. I mean opera. I could say world peace, or end starvation, or understanding. Those would be great. True love -- fabulous. Send my exes to live in Antarctica with only enough protection to keep them from death -- fun. I could say I wouldn't have screwed up some of my relationships. But I would have. I know it. They know it (and now you do too). The fact is, if I could do anything, anything at all, it wouldn't be noble, and it wouldn't be evil. It would Countess Almaviva in Le Nozze di Figaro