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The Most Sensitive Sex Organ

Sex is definitely more about psychology than about a series of physical sensations for me. I’ve always known this, but I never really thought about it much until I started writing one-handed fiction.

What I mean is this: some people fantasize about doing specific physical things, like having the tongue hit just a certain spot during oral sex or whatever. But when I’m fantasizing, it’s usually more about the situation which led to the sex rather than the actual mechanics. Or sometimes about the psychology associated with a specific act like shooting a load in someone’s mouth, etc.

That’s why, for example, one of my big turn-ons is when a guy does something that seems totally out of character. Like when some tight-assed little clean-cut preppy guy decides he wants to get pissed on by three punks, or when a decidely swishy sort turns out to be a really nasty aggressive “top”, or when a cute trendy young’un chases after older guys.

I don’t think my outlook is all that uncommon, really. It definitely looms large among many tearoom afficiandos, whether they get off on the potential for getting caught, or (as I did) because you meet some surprisingly interesting types there. It also comes into play every time a couple decides to have a three-way. And, of course, it’s a big part of most fetishes.

I don’t think this heavy-duty psychological approach to sex is necessarily superior, either. It makes the hunt difficult when you’re always trying to create a “story” with your potential victims. In fact, it even may have its drawbacks when push comes to shove (so to speak) as well. That’s why most fetish videos are so boring once you get past the boot-licking or armpit-sniffing.

But when it comes to writing stories, it means that I create (I think) really great and sexy situations. As might be expected, though, I’m weak on the bump and grind. I have occasionally had the same problem in the sack.

I’m babbling. This made much more sense when I was thinking about it than it did when I started typing. I’ll try to be better tomorrow…

Christmas Break

I think today is the day that everyone who’s going home for the holidays finally leaves San Francisco. Which means tonight might be an interesting Thursday night out, with only the heartiest of the hardcores left in town.

Or something to that effect…

No, I’m not going home for Christmas. This will be my second year in a row of not doing so. There are a lot of reasons, but the main one is this: if I can only manage to go home and see my family one time a year, Christmas is definitely not the time I want to do it.

Aside from the insanity of trying to fly anywhere during the last week in December, it’s pretty crazy once you arrive where you’re going, too. Every minute is accounted for, with assorted gatherings and visits, etc. It’s not a relaxing way to spend a week or so. When I go home, one of the things I want is a little normalcy. There’s more of this to be had in January, which is when I’m planning my trip.

It could be a fun trip too. I may stay for three weeks or so, and I’m thinking of side trips. Charlotte, Richmond, Atlanta, Norfolk, and maybe even Baltimore and New York are under consideration, but everything’s subject to change. But if I went home for Christmas, very little would be subject to change.

Of course, there are a few other things I need to do while I’m in North Carolina too, many of which would be best done after the holidays. But I’m not talking about those things tonight.

Anyway, for those of you who are still near your computers: the divorce of Planet SOMA and The Other Stream is moving forward with a semi-finalized Other Stream design. I hope to have everything nicely separate by the first of the year.

Tonight’s sucky movie I’m glad I didn’t pay money to see: The Last Days of Disco.

Dinner Party

Christmas dinner party at Kevin and Steve’s last night. I work with Kevin, and Steve is probably the person most responsible for the fact that I now live in San Francisco.

We happened to meet one night in Charlotte in 1987 merely because we were wearing compatible T-shirts. He was sporting the Jesus and Mary Chain on his chest; mine featured something unmentionably embarrassing, but it seemed cool enough at the time. We became friends, he moved here in 1991, and I followed a year later.

Funny how choosing the right T-shirt one evening can change one’s life way off in the future, isn’t it? Maybe I should pay more attention to how I dress…

Christmas Day

 

Take those two pictures as any sort of play on words you choose.

Christmas dinner at Dan’s was quite nice, and I must say (modestly, of course) that I out together both my best pot of greens ever AND my best pot of black-eyes ever.

And now I’m going to bed. Hope you had a nice day too, even if you were just celebrating Monday rather than Chrsitmas…

Thanks

Thanks, alphabetically:

  • To Aunt Charlene for long distance galore.
  • To Aunt Norma for the game.
  • To Becky for the ornament (buy yours here).
  • To Dan for all kinds of meat-related ephemera.
  • To Dan (different one) for having Christmas dinner at his house this year.
  • To Debbie for the CD case.
  • To Duncan and Rick for this (and this, while I’m at it).
  • To Jamie for this.
  • To Kevin for the bizarre item which will be pictured later.
  • To Mark for these.
  • To Mom and Dad for the new monitor you didn’t know you were buying me.
  • To Steve for candy.
  • To Uncle Wesley for, well, money.

Lastly, thanks to all of you, for holding your tongues and not telling me how much you hate the current round of changes on the site(s) until after New Year’s.

Stuff to Do

I really should finish doing the Christmas dishes. And start mailing my Christmas cards. But I’ve got to finish the Bottles update (which keeps getting bigger and bigger) first. And watch a Simpsons re-run I’ve seen eight times already…

Queen of the Desert

Why does it always leave me in such a good mood when I catch Priscilla on TV by accident? I kind of want to go out and make it with an Australian drag queen now. While listening to Abba. Or “Take a Letter Maria”.

It’s also got me thinking about 1994 when I had a boyfriend who was neither Australian nor a drag queen. I’m having this very strange mental picture of the two of us flying up I-5 from LA at 4:00 in the morning, listening to Abba’s greatest hits really loud. It seems strangely comfortable now, but it didn’t at the time. I think I ws pissed about something, probably the fact that we were driving home from LA at 4AM.

But I don’t think I’d mind doing the same thing again right now, albeit maybe with a different companion…

New Domain

My new domain for Bottles finally went live sometime yesterday, it seems. Took long enough. And it seems like the DNS lookup is slow too; that would mean that it takes a long time for the site first to start loading, but then everything’s OK. Is anyone else having this trouble? Does anyone else care?

Back to working on other people’s sites now…

Annoyances and Discoveries

Today’s date is dedicated to Mark.

Annoyances du jour:

  • Can anyone offer me any explanation why cluster tomatoes grown in a hothouse should cost 50-75% more in winter than they do in summer? Am I missing some crucial issue here?
  • It’s freezing in my living room, 58 at my last check. Yes, I still have no heat. No, I do not blame my landlord (whom I actually like and trust, believe it or not). It’s all but impossible to get a contractor to do anything in SF right now; they’re all too busy building live/work lofts out of stray pieces of corrugated cardboard. Ahh, San Francisco. Where it’s always “jacket weather”. Inside and out.
  • Has anyone else noticed that everything on TV (networks, cable, and independents alike) has just plain sucked for about the last month or so?

Happy discovery du jour:

Randomly Sunday

So my friend Duncan is finally moving about 2000 miles closer to the west coast at exactly the same time I’m seriously thinking of moving back to the east coast. Bad timing again; I seem to make a habit of that. But them again, I’ve been seriously thinking of moving back east for a good year and a half with no discernible action.

Speaking of no discernible action, last night was the last straw. I’m never going out on Saturday night again. Nothing but idiots out, which might have been OK if they hadn’t all been such UNAPPEALING idiots. It is easier on the self-esteem, granted, when the problem is that you’re not interested in anyone you see rather than no one ine being interested in you. But the end result is pretty much the same.

Had lunch with Sarah yesterday; we hadn’t seen each other in months, so it was a good thing. As was the “buy one get one free” sale on Rubbermaid at Walgreen’s. That the aforementioned drug store is listed among the highlights of my Saturday should give some indication of how uneventful my life is this week.