I was afraid I knew the answer. Why did I ask the question? I think it was because I wanted to be wrong. I wanted someone to tell me he was alive… and well.

 

When I met John he was recovering from cancer. We were introduced in a bar and over a few beers, I was told the story of how he almost died. He wasn’t in remission, but John didn’t look “terminally ill” (his skin wasn’t sallow and he still had all his hair) and I figured he must be doing well with his treatment if he was out drinking with friends.

(The wheels were already turning.)

 I almost wonder if our friends anticipated how he’d tug at my heartstrings, how I’d want to give him some happiness in whatever way I could, to make up for some of the pain he’d felt and what he had to go through. Maybe that had something to do with why they made certain we became acquainted by leaving us to spend some time alone talking. You see, I have a soft spot for nice guys who deserve a little more female attention than they are used to getting. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I am the “Queen” of pity fucks, but I cannot deny it has happened before and it will likely happen again. Bur, I didn’t quite feel sorry for John. I felt more angry that he was cheated out of a portion of his life. I wanted to put things right. I knew what it was like to feel defective, different, defeated, yet still proud you’d made it this far.

 

As if intense empathy wasn’t enough to spark an attraction, John also made me laugh- out loud, a rapturous, carefree sound accompanied by a genuine wide, toothy grin. (Like so many women, I am a sucker for a witty sense of humour.) In friendly retaliation, I liked to make him blush with my flirtations and PDA. He loved getting the attention and I loved giving it, especially to someone so appreciative. He made me feel wanted emotionally, not just desirable sexually. It didn’t take long for us to progress to dating exclusively. We each gave the other something needed at the time.

 

People tell me that before John got cancer he was mean. A few said he could still be pretty spiteful sometimes. I never experienced that. Anything I wanted to do, anywhere I wanted to go, whatever I wanted, John was like a puppy dog. I say that with tenderness, dismay and guilt, because it was eagerness and devotion that drew me to him and that played a part in pushing me away. He adored me when I couldn’t adore myself.

 

John had a nerdy innocence about him and even though it had clearly endeared me, friends warned me to be careful with him… not necessarily just because he was sick, but because he had so little experience with women and I was known to be, well, a Maneater. And John had enough to deal with. “He didn’t need a broken heart on top of having cancer.“ Sometimes it is hard to hear the echo of that statement in my head. I feel it in my heart too.

 

I know that our break-up was probably inevitable. (I was in, what I consider to be, my formative years when we met… partying, drinking, fucking, having fun, trying new things. I outgrew the relationship, while he was a point in his life that everything stayed the same for him.) But, I don’t think getting involved with John was a mistake. I like to think that I still gave him a reason to smile, even if only for a while. He certainly made me appreciate the value of having a few close friends as opposed to a lot of acquaintances. John also taught me that “normal” is relative. What ‘happened’ to him is that he became more than I could ask for - an unforgettable part of my life.

 

John is buried in Crown Hill Cemetery. There is a pilgrimage I have to make.

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

I am stunned right now. I finally have a name to put to something that has been 'wrong' with me since elementary school, something that always made me feel bad/weird, etc. Better still, I found someone else with the same problem!
I don't know where to start, so I'll start at the logical place- the beginning. I have an excellent grasp of grammar and terrific reading comprehension. I write and speak well and I absolutely devour books, many of which would be considered "boring" or scholarly tomes, with ease. However, I've always had trouble with the most basic math. To this day, at age 31, I still can't compute numbers in my head, make change, or measure properly. I have to make a guess and my guesses are usually way off. When I'm faced with a set of numbers and have to manipulate them in some way, I don't know what to do with them. My brain just stalls. I draw a complete blank. I freeze. This makes me nervous, embarrassed, anxious, afraid, stressed, etc etc, which of course, only makes the ordeal worse and exacerbates future instances.
Teachers recommended my parents get a tutor. The tutors found different ways to explain things to me. I could do arithmetic along with them, but could not do it on my own and correctly duplicate their work, nor could I repeat the things we worked on A LOT once I returned to class. The tutors suggested my parents take me to a psychologist to determine what was causing my "fear of math," which they suspected stemmed from my parents worrying about money and thus me worrying about the cause and effect of money, which translated to numbers. The doctor told them I had a "number block" and that tedious memory exercises might help. They also arranged with the school for me to take my math tests by myself in the quiet library. It didn't make a significant difference. I still failed tests, just by a little less. The teachers gave me a shitload of extra credit worksheets to do with my tutor just so I could pass their classes with a D-. (I was especially lucky one year when my math teacher was my older brother's best friend from when they were my age. He allowed me to do written "essays" about Arithmetic related topics to help my grade.) I never knew why it was so hard for me- especially when I was so advanced in things like English/Literature/Humanities.
Now, I believe I have Dyscalculia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyscalculia
Potential symptoms (my comments are in parenthesis):

* Frequent difficulties with arithmetic, confusing the signs: +, −, ÷ and ×. (Sort of. I don't know which sign to "perform" on a set of numbers in order to get the result I need.)
* Difficulty with everyday tasks like checking change and reading analog clocks. (I can't make change without at least counting on my fingers or making an illustration and I usually even need a calculator. I round times up or down depending on how close the hand is to either number.)
* Inability to comprehend financial planning or budgeting, sometimes even at a basic level; for example, estimating the cost of the items in a shopping basket or balancing a checkbook. (I get thrown off by tax. I round up and add an additional dollar to that, hoping I'll get close enough not to be under the total due.)
* Difficulty with multiplication-tables, and subtraction-tables, addition tables, division tables, mental arithmetic, etc. (I know them when I SEE them written down, but I can't THINK them in my head.)
* May do fairly well in subjects such as science and geometry, which require logic rather than formulae, until a higher level requiring calculations is obtained. (I rule at logic and abstract concepts, yet I was literally 2 points away from failing General Math. I've never really done algebra; I just couldn't grasp why the letters and unknown quantities had to exist at all and I never could figure out how to put something in there place to make the equation "work" right. I barely passed each math course I've taken and had an A or A- in every other subject. Math was the only thing that prevented me from a 4.0 gpa in high school. In college, I couldn't even pass the remedials that would have allowed me to take the basics, which caused me to only be able to obtain an Associates instead of a Bachelors because I could not pass the basic required math courses needed for a four year education degree.)
* Difficulty with conceptualizing time and judging the passing of time. May be chronically late. (Kind of. I had always attributed it to just being "distracted." I set my clocks 13 minutes fast because if I look at them, my mind will round that to 10 and I end up hurrying, thinking I only have ten minutes, which makes me right on time!)
* Particularly problems with differentiating between left and right. (No, not really, but I can't think of streets in terms of North or South, etal.)
* Difficulty navigating or mentally "turning" the map to face the current direction rather than the common North=Top usage. (Whoa, just noticed this is an issue for me! Never gave it much thought. I always have to physically put maps in the direction I'm going for them to make sense!
* Having particular difficulty mentally estimating the measurement of an object or distance e.g., whether something is 10 or 20 feet/3 or 6 meters away. (True. I couldn't even begin to accurately guess. I cannot "visualize" 10 feet.)
* Often unable to grasp and remember mathematical concepts, rules, formulae, and sequences. (No matter how many times they are explained or shown to me, they don't seem logical and I can't retain the information.)
* An inability to read a sequence of numbers, or transposing them when repeated, such as turning 56 into 65. (If I quietly repeat them to myself several times first, I might get it right!)
* Difficulty keeping score during games. (I assumed this was just a memory problem or that I was distracted.)
* Difficulty with games such as poker with more flexible rules for scoring. (I've been playing Euchre and Texas Hold Em for over 20 years, but I still have to remind myself what cards are worth which values and which cards are a what.)
* Difficulty in activities requiring sequential processing, from the physical (such as dance steps) to the abstract (reading, writing and signaling things in the right order). May have trouble even with a calculator due to difficulties in the process of feeding in variables. (OMG! I was awful at the dancing portion in show choir, not just because I was uncoordinated, but even more so because I couldn't remember when to do what move no matter how much repetition was drilled into my head!)
* The condition may lead in extreme cases to a phobia or durable anxiety of mathematics and mathematic-numeric devices/coherences. (Totally! I already know what's going to happen - that I'm not going to be able to do the math and that makes me feel even more [insert emotion here].)
* Low latent inhibition, i.e., over-sensitivity to noise, smell, light and the inability to tune out, filtering unwanted information or impressions. Might have a well-developed sense of imagination due to this, possibly as cognitive compensation to mathematical-numeric deficits. (Hell yes! I can't read with music on or study with the tv going. I need quiet and bright lights. I focus on the most appealing work first- whatever is creative or "literary" and put off the rest until the last moment.)

Wow. Most of these describe me! I should take an official test to confirm it! I'm not stupid or inept afterall! To know exactly what's wrong with me and that I'm not the only one is such a huge relief. I wish someone had known back then. Maybe I could have been helped and saved a lot of negativity.

The Department Of Education demonstrates one of the many ways in which they excel at customer service…

 —–Original Message—–
From:   Student Aid
Sent:   Wednesday, August 12, 2009 4:19 PM
To:     Anastacia xxxxxxx
Subject:        Not read: Balance remaining on Direct Consolidated Subsidized loan</p>

Your message was deleted without being read on Wednesday, August 12, 2009 3:18:57 PM (GMT-06:00) Central Time (US & Canada).

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

I’ve been saying I was going to do this, literally, for years and just never got around to it. The recent shake-up of CW has inspired me to get on with it.

I will, really and truly, be updating my links list on TousledElegance.net sometime this month. If you’d like your site, blog, store or something added, please let me know and I’ll take a look at it. If it isn’t filled with hate or avarice, it’ll probably get the green light.

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

A storm knocked out my electricity on Tuesday morning. The power company said it might be a few days before they can get it back on. (The main box for the whole block was destroyed when a tree came down. The tree has been cut up and removed, but the box is a more complex fix.)

I’m checking my emails etc from the office before we open, on my lunch hour and prior to leaving for the day. If I am slow to respond or not around much, that is why.

I’m ok. A little bored, but not completely miserable. Yet.

Update Wednesday 8/5 7:30 PM - Yay, back on!!!!

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

I’m sitting here next to an open window, basking in the breeze, when I hear some urgent whispering and rustling sounds. I look out and see two guys pulling on the branches of our apple tree that the tree is bowed. I mean, they are really tugging hard without regard for the tree at all. (It has been loose in the ground since the last major storm and we’re worried it won’t make it. We’re surprised it bloomed at all, considering. Anyway, people yanking on it is obviously not only bad for the tree, but dangerous for them too.)

We deal with people trespassing on our property and stealing our fruit every year. It’s getting really fucking old. The trees have to be professionally cared for and it isn’t cheap. We’d like to enjoy some of our own fruit that we’ve spent time and money to grow. I don’t think that is unreasonable. We tell the neighbors that anyone is welcome to have some, as long as they just konck on the door and ask us first- don’t trespass and don’t steal. We’ll give them some. Seems fair, right?

And yet there are still people who help themselves. And when we catch them, we are way too fucking nice, in my opinion. We ask them to please stay out of the yard and not to take the fruit without asking. Then, we give them some!  Today, the neighbors across the street were livid that we came out and did this. They ranted and raved about how we had no right to accuse anyone of anything… BUT I SAT HERE AND WATCHED THEM WHILE THEY DID IT and our neighbors were sitting out on their front porch facing the tree, so there’s absolutely no way they could not or did not see them!

I can’t help but feel like we’re victims of racism here. Our house sits on the corner of an intersection and we’re the only white family on that particular street. I feel like everyone takes up for their homies in the hood, but thinks “fuck whitey.” There sure seems to be some sort of stereotyping and “rob from the rich, steal from the poor” mentality going on. The irony is, we have as little as most of the families in this depressed area. We’re struggling too.

I wish we could find some sense of unity for the sake of the neighborhood. We want it to be a nice place to live. We want it to be a safe place to live.  We’d never dream of trying to run people out of it to suit our standard, but I have to admit, I cannot wait until I can move somewhere else. Where ever I go, it will have its own unique set of problems. I understand that, but it doesn’t mean I have to accept it. There’s a place that is a good fit for me. I don’t know where it is, but I’m positive that it isn’t here.

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

I grit my teeth every time a bill from a particular company crosses my desk. They tout themselves as “A Christian Repair Service” and their invoices have a crucifix on them. *shudder* Admittedly, I am slightly amused that they’ve accidentally worded it so that it implies Xians need fixing, but while your spiritual beliefs may govern your thoughts and actions, I strongly feel Business and Religion should be kept separate… I’ve never understood the compulsion to mix the two so incredibly publicly.

I may be an Atheist, but honestly, I would cringe every bit as much if I saw a bill from a company labeling themselves as “Atheist Owned And Operated.” (There’s a time and place for everything! Spirituality is a private thing!) I’m actually shocked that any mention of being a “faith based” company is legal; that seems to teeter on the brink of being discriminatory.

I find using God for marketing purposes to be distasteful, inappropriate, and, well, kind of slimy and creepy. The church is a wide social network and the opportunity for word of mouth through church functions seems like it would be sufficient enough to draw a significant amount of customers without plastering so much what is, essentially, overt propaganda elsewhere.

It seems like such an odd thing to do. It does nothing to promote the idea that their goods or services are somehow better in quality (because they are “blessed,” haha); it sort of gives off a condescending vibe to me. I mean, ones religion does not imply they are more professional or more experienced than those of another. It’s completely irrelevant in that respect! It is not an accurate indicator of ethical business practices. In fact, to some, it is off-putting, suggesting exactly the opposite and deters patronage. (And the erroneous assumptions/broad generalizations go both ways. Both “sides” are guilty of making them. You can thank the antics of figures such as Marilyn Manson, Ozzy Osborne, Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggart alike for drawing attention to the negatives and/or extremes.)

I am so adamant about religion not belonging in the workplace that I was one of several employees who quit when the corporation was purchased by owners who added “John 3:16″ to the signs, began hosting morning prayer meetings at the office and instituted religious t-shirt Fridays. The vigils and clothing were not mandatory, but if you didn’t participate, you were told you were not being a team player. Luckily, the conflicting bus schedule got me out of attending, but when I wore a top with an Ankh on it, I was sent home and ordered to change out of my “Satanic attire,” that was the last straw. I secured another job, with their competitor, that very afternoon. It is a shame I felt compelled to do so, but to me, “freedom of religion” also means freedom from it. If I want a God, I know where to start looking; it should not be on my desk. :P

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

I check my website statistics mostly out of curiosity. Every once in a while, I like to share them. Maybe other webmasters will find it interesting or helpful. Feel free to comment and share some of yours!

***

Browser: over 80% of my visitors use Internet Explorer. Surprisingly, Netscape is the next most used at 12%. Firefox is only slightly above 6%. The others are only a fraction of a percent. This makes me sad. Before I started using Wordpress, I used to focus on cross-browser compatibility. It was frustrating, especially when coding by hand in notepad, but I know I learned a lot that way. I feel like I’ve been lured out of the loop by convenience. By today’s design standards, I would suck.

OS: Almost 90% of my visitors use Windows… XP, 98 and NT- in that order, but Vista is only a fraction of a percent. Oddly enough, the next most popular operating system among them is “unknown.” In the list of unknowns, many appear to be mobile
users. Mac users account for less than one percent. There are even some Playstation and Wii visitors. Neat!

Countries: Most viewers are from the US, France, Canada, Netherlands, China, Germany, Great Britain, South Korea and Russia. I know my geography, but there is one country I did not recognize- Brunei Darussalam, which Google indicates is in Southeast Asia, on the Island of Borneo. Wow.

Referrers: Most of my hits come from Steph The Geek’s, Adorable Audrey’s and Sybil Hawthorne’s sites. All girls I love, so this pleases me. I really don’t see anything that shouldn’t be there or that alarms me…. no unauthorized hotlinks or government agencies, as I might have a few years ago.

Search Key Phrases: They are telling this month, with most being foot fetish related :) Many people, apparently, also want to know “does faiuruza balk wear thongs?” If you can confirm that, please let me know, haha! Several visitors were also looking for “sexy navajo chicks,” but unfortunately did not find any on my site. :P Some were also hoping to find former Camwhores Selvios and Verotika. Sorry! Those wanting Juicy Little Fat Grl, did find a link to her though! :)

Pages: My rss feed and webcam pages are the most popular, as expected. A lot of people look into contacting me, but don’t. Understandable given that I rarely use instant messengers or chat and I can be slow to respond to emails when I don’t know what to say.

***

I guess I am a nerd, because I find this data absolutely fascinating. It excites me. It makes me speculate. It makes me want to create. It makes me want to be more active and update more often. I probably should not be looking at it, heh!

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

The tortured lovers Michael and Nikita (La Femme Nikita) <3

I literally just wrote this short erotic story. Might not be everyone’s cup o’ tea, but I had to share :)

 ****

Wouldn’t it be absolutely delicious torture if you had a foot fetish and you were a nail tech… not only working around barefoot women all day, but having to intimately touch their feet? Would you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom to jerk off several times a day, do it on your lunch break, or would you wait until you got home to replay the day in your mind?

I get pedicures regularly, twice a month, at the same shop. The employees are nice, they do good work, the prices are competitive and it is a clean and soothing environment. I find my mind wandering a lot while I’m reclining in the vibrating chair being serviced. Sometimes I am comfortable enough that I get turned on and when that happens, I often fantasize about this scenario: I’m the last appointment of the day. The other techs have left, dimming the lights, turning the sign off, and locking the door. Mine promises to finish cleaning up and shutting down after he’s done with my pedicure. It’s quiet, save soft muzak, and I feel very relaxed. All of techs at this particular establishment are beautiful, Asian, with almost delicate features. I like to look at them, especially this one. I’m glancing through a magazine, occasionally peeking at him through my lashes. I can’t help but think there’s a sort of focus and tension about him and that has me curious. I’m not afraid to be alone with him at all, but I wonder why he’s a million miles away and what he is thinking about.

When he gets up to fetch the hot towels, I notice he has an erection. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if he’s seen up my dress from his low seat or something, but I remember I have on capri tights, so there’s really nothing to see there. I sigh blissfully when he wraps the steaming towels around my calves. As he returns to rubbing my soles, I feel how slow and deliberate his movements are; the pad of his thumb is actually more caressing than just massaging. That’s when it hits me. Maybe it is something in his eyes or the way the tip of his tongue slips out absently wetting his lips that gives it away, but I know, at that moment, that he is getting excited by my feet. I have to admit, the idea of that makes my clit twitch deeply and I can feel that my pussy is wet.

I ponder what to do next. I would love to play with him a little bit. Is there a subtle way to let him know that, to encourage him? He strikes me as the shy, sensitive type and I know I tend to be pretty blunt sometimes. I don’t want to embarrass him or scare him. I inquire, conversationally, “Doesn’t this drive you crazy?” He pauses massaging for a beat and looks up at me wide eyed and stutters, “d-doesn’t what?” Hmm. It’s going to be hard to skirt around it since I expected to put at ease enough that his answer to be a confessing whisper of yes. I have to gently let him know that I know his secret and that it’s okay. I casually continue, “working around pretty feet all day…” He still has a cautious expression and looks away quickly before hesitantly replying, “Yeah…”  He trailed off like he wanted to say more. I watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed nervously. Now he’s clearly avoiding my gaze and deliberately trying not to look at my feet either. I can’t see his crotch from this angle, but I just know he’s rock hard right now. His left hands darts out to fiddle unnecessarily with the bottles of polish on his cart. He needs a little push, I decide.

I purred seductively, “Mmm, that feels so good” as I arch my back slightly and nudged my foot closer to him. “Now if you only offered a toe sucking service, I’d be in heaven,” I laughed playfully. The air has an electricity to it as I anticipate his response to THAT. “You… like to have your toes sucked…?” he murmurs uncertainly. “Oh, god, yes, licked, sucked, massaged, the whole bit.” As I catch the corners of his mouth starting to turn up, I add conspiratorially and almost apologetically, “Sorry, but it’s almost sexual to me.” His smile has turned into a grin. “Oh, yeah, for me too, for me too,” he nods enthusiastically. Finally! He is coming out of his shell! He looks visibly relieved.

Here goes nothing, I think and blurt out, “You can do that… If you want, I mean.” He bites his lip for a fraction of a second before clarifying, “suck them?” “You don’t _have_ to or anything…” I shrug. There’s no hesitation now. He’s probably so turned on he can’t help himself any longer and that turns me on. He places a palm under my heel and slides his index finger between my big toe and his thumb around the outside, capturing it with his fingers before capturing it with his lips. I marvel at how soft his lips are and how hot his tongue feels s he tantalizes the rest of my toes with his mouth. The surrounding cool air teases my moist foot and I feel that surge between my legs again. I cannot keep a small moan from escaping and I shift even nearer to him. That definitely excites him and any last shred of bashfulness disappears and he begins voraciously licking up and down my soles, occasionally suckling at my arches. I can feel his warm breath getting faster. My hands involuntarily drop from the arms of the chair, into my lap and I deftly stroke my pussy though my clothes. He sees this and begins to touch himself through his pants. “Take it out,” I whisper as he glances up at me, “take out your cock.”

And he does, immediately. I’m actually shocked at how erect he is. His cock is stiffly standing straight out. He circles his thumb and index finger around it as far as he can, just below the head, to masturbate himself while he feverishly stuffs every single one of my toes into his mouth. Watching him completely fill and stretch his thirsty mouth with nearly my entire foot is quite possibly the sexiest thing I have ever seen and definitely the most erotic sensation I’ve ever felt. It puts me right on the edge, but I don’t want to cum yet. Not like this. And this is not how I want him to cum either, I realize. He’s probably pretty close too. I’m almost breathless when I tell him, “I want you to fuck my feet.” He responds with a sound that is pure animal lust and I very nearly orgasm right then from hearing it. I have to abruptly lift my finger from my clit to prevent that from happening. He quickly extracts my foot from his hungry mouth, lifts the other up next to it and pushes his cock through the space between my arches. He bucks his pelvis wildly, watching himself use my silky feet to pleasure his cock.

I am trying desperately to hold off, to time it just right so that we are cumming together. When he slips the head of his dick in the space between my big toe and rubs that oh so sensitive spot of his shaft all over the wrinkled ball of my foot, I know he is about to get off. “Yessss, cum on my pretty toes,” I groan. As his cock spurts hot, sticky streams of cum all over my tiny toes, I feel my tight pussy contract repeatedly. His grunts of satisfaction have my juices positively pumping out of my cunt from somewhere deep within, soaking my panties. I’m shaking. He’s shaking. He grins broadly and laughs breathlessly, plopping back down on his seat. I stretch luxuriously, chuckled and mused, I guess you’d better wash them again.” Still smiling, he agreed.

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

I am, what you might call, “candid” about sex or “sexually liberated.” Based on the things I have tried and those I want to try, most people would probably consider me kinky. It comes as no surprise when they find out I’ve been doing internet porn for almost ten years now. And because of my “hobby,” very little shocks or offends me anymore. (Desensitized?) I cater to fetishes and have a lot of them myself… Actually, one of my fetishes is Fetishists, so that’s how and why I’m seeking out related forums/boards.

Lately, I am especially curious about Foot Fetish. Maybe my interest was piqued by Bachelorette contestant Tanner Pope? :D
I’m not completely new to it though. I’ve dabbled in foot photography and videography; I’ve given a footjob and had my toes sucked, but I still don’t feel I’ve explored enough to be truly sated. I suspect being intimate with someone who kisses my feet briefly only in the heat of the moment is very different than playing with someone who is genuinely into foot worship. I definitely want to experience the latter (and I think foot play with me is different that with a lot of other women… namely, because I don’t engage in it just to please my partner, but because it is erotic to me too).

Do *I* have a bonafide foot fetish? That’s a gray area, I think. I’m fascinated about every aspect of this particular fetish… certainly the psychology of it, the actual foot related sex acts themselves and even feet as art. I’m not quite turned on by looking at feet, per se, but I am excited by using my feet to tease and please men and women. The thought of a man getting an erection from eyeing my pretty, painted, pedicured toes exposed by summery sandals or from catching a glimpse of my soft soles and delicate arches as I absently (yet seductively, for him) dangle a high heeled pump… and the thought of me stuffing my pantyhose encased toes into a mans mouth while his cock pounds my pussy… or the idea of a woman rubbing her wet pussy all over my feet… well, these are fantasies that get me very hot.

While you can’t be certain of anything on the web, not everyone with an unusual fantasy is a stalker or a sociopathic or psychopathic killer. Typically, I don’t find most Fetishists creepy at all. I understand them, I guess. I can absolutely empathize with how uncomfortable it can be to explain or indulge what turns you on sexually when it comes to, let’s say, less than open-minded people. I like to draw out their confessions, to be honest. I hope unburdening feels good to them. For me, finding out what makes them tick is as erotic as actually participating in what they describe. Any questions I might ask are out of genuine intrigue, not in order to pass judgment on anyone or to make fun of them! Glory be to the medium that allows people to open up and share!

Still, I feel sort of skeevy joining forums. I’m looking for masturbation fodder like most of the members, but I also hope to connect with someone who “gets me” and can perhaps entice me into trying new things. If you can point me in the right direction to find some kind, friendly feet guys, please do.

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

Work life and home life are crushing me right now. I felt like blogging to forget. Damned if I didn’t stare at the cursor for, well, quite a while. In the interest of frivolity, here’s the banter-y type shit I decided to go ahead with…

- I love tea, especially sun tea. I had a happy accident when I made some over the weekend. I wanted flavoured tea. I had some Peach bags, but only 3 and I usually use at least 6 for sun tea. I tossed in 3 Lipton Brisk bags. A few hours later, I was drinking a concoction better than restaurant quality. It didn’t even need sugar. Dare I try the same with Passion Fruit? Hmm.

- On the recommendation of Jay Holben, This Film Is Not Yet Rated is sitting on my coffeetable, awaiting my attention. I am certifiably addicted to news expose sorts of shows like Frontline, so I think this may be right up my alley. And Jay is film dude extraordinaire, so it’s a leap of faith for me. Don’t fail me now!

- Is Trent Reznor in the movie Underworld? Seriously…

- Also, Moonlight should still be on tv. It won a People’s Choice Award, so it was a no-brainer to keep. And after the success of Twilight… Gah, network execs make me want to spork out my eyeballs.

- I’m trying to read this book about a priest who was killed by cyanide in front of the congregation. It doesn’t require knowledge of the G word to ‘get it’, but I’m still not feelin’ it. I like the cop characters though; they are reoccurring from some of the author’s other books. I guess I was hoping for something a little more sadistic. Oh how that applies to other things at the moment, ha!

- My favourite Michael Jackson son is “Leave Me Alone;” now stop asking! :P

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

After watching recent news reports, I’ve noticed that it seems many of us think our votes entitle us to an awful lot of access to politicians personal lives. (On a related note: Overall, the general sense of entitlement in society today is staggering. The behavior of so many people often has me asking the rhetorical question, “Who do you think you are?!”) It is understandable to want to vote for someone who shares your views and can relate to your agenda (yes, we all have one). To not want to cast vote for someone who does not is, actually, your RIGHT, but only the degree that you aren’t infringing on anyone else’s rights. However, if you are unsure of where a candidate stands, in that case, it might be in your best interest to simply abstain from voting for that office. Exercising that type of freedom- to choose or to choose not to make a choice, is part of what allows the system to work.

While it matters to me whether an illegal act has been committed, I don’t care who elected officials are fucking; I feel that’s a private matter. Sure, the ‘injured spouse’ could be considered a victim, but adultery isn’t a crime, per se. It’s certainly grounds for dissolution of a marriage, but it isn’t an offense punishable by law, though their spouse may find ways in which to punish them for it. ;)

The real injustice is that careers are forever jeopardized by private matters that don’t affect competence or ability to perform job duties. I’m baffled that sex between two consenting adults causes such a stir. Granted, when it is done on company time or financed with company funds, that’s another matter, but done ‘off duty’ and with their own earned monies shouldn’t be grounds for termination! Yes, a certain conduct is expected of them AT WORK - just like it is of you, but what one does in their freetime, provided it is legal, has so little bearing on other areas of their life or yours.

Some may argue that politicians should be held to a higher standard. I believe the time to let go of our ideals about what a politician is and should be is long passed. In this era, the best we can hope for is that they are not criminals. Certainly, this is unfortunate and sad fact, but a reality none the less and it is something to which we must adapt. Our adaptability is key to our success as a nation.

Others may argue that an affair is a reflection of character and, therefore, an indication that someone cannot be trusted with the job of running our country. Before you start spewing that logic, it might be a good idea to ask yourself: How above reproach are you? What things have you done that would be reason for you not to be trusted and have things taken away from you, have your life ruined? More importantly, who is qualified to make that judgment? The common man? Your next door neighbor? The guy in line at the supermarket? The woman waiting for the bus? I mean, they vote and pay taxes too, so… ???

Most of us, thankfully, are instilled with a basic sense of right and wrong; that isn’t exclusive to any certain religious sect. We can all probably agree to the general compromised summation of: those that kill or steal should be held responsible for their actions and receive some sort of punishment. (It is the specifics upon which we can’t agree.) I know I definitely can’t get past the fact that the world can’t be that envisioned “better place” with these thinly veiled attempts to enforce any particular set of morals on others. I feel like an old woman as I sit here shaking my head and muttering, “what a shame; we have so much potential.”

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

I took an Old 97’s tune called The New Kid (swapped the genders, changed kid to girl, tweaked a couple of other words) and parodied it into a song about the camgirl world, ha!

Verse 1:
The new girl, she’s got money
The money I deserve
She’s got the goods but she’s not good for her word
I should be rolling in it
I’ve been a working stiff
As for the justice no one knows where it went

Chorus:
I’m gonna cam away
Until my dyin’ day
I will be remembered for the hot things I did
Believe me every year
There is another one here
Don’t you see I used to be the new girl
I am sorry to say
You’ll get carried away
Oh
You will be replaced
You will be replaced
I tell you again
Don’t get too settled in
Oh
You will be replaced
You will be replaced
by the new girl

Verse 2:
The new girl, she’s got my fans
The fans I used to have
She’s got the looks you know, but not from her dad
They should be kissing my ass
They should be so in love
There is no justice
There’s just dark stars above

I am always wary of meeting interweb folk, but I knew right away that Sunny and Blake were my kind of people when I met them in Toronto while visiting Steph The Geek a few years ago. They are really special to me in that kindred spirit sort of way. It would mean a lot to me to be able to help them out. This where you come in!
Please register and vote for them to win an amazingly kickass vehicle by Nissan called the Cube. It only takes a minute and you won’t get any spam from it. I can’t begin to tell you how much of a positive life change this could mean for them individually, as a couple and for their kids.
The links are:
http://www.hypercube.ca/en/Canvas.aspx?id=9b9168c6-c8bb-46cf-bd27-d0fbf0a8d21d〈=en
and
http://www.hypercube.ca/en/Canvas.aspx?id=9b9168c6-c8bb-46cf-bd27-d0fbf0a8d21d〈=en
If you can remember, please try to vote daily. I’ll give you a friendly reminder occasionally! :) Thank you so much!

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

… and so is my site. I have a lot of spring cleaning to do. Well, I don’t *have* to, but I want to! In the next few days/weeks(?) I’ll revise my bio, update my links list and put up a brighter/happier layout. I’m also discussing the possibility of developing a members area to incorporate into a fellow camgirl’s network of sites. After a bad experience with BLW, I thought that was something I’d never do again, but I both trust and admire this lovely lady, so I’m optimistic about the endeavor. We shall see! I would also like to move out and rent an apartment this summer. I am considering seeking a roommate. More on that another time as well…. 

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

By Exene Cervenka

Because our skins aren’t thick enough, the walls are too thin , our muscles have not evolved , we are not strong enough to protect us from ourselves…

Look ! Soft tan tissue - they are on the cover of the swimsuit issue . He wishes you were her . Because he is looking for something much much more sexier and voluptuous. So he takes out a personal ad that says: “Personality a PLUS …”

Those guys they do everything for us . wedding rings , diamonds , we get to by stuff… STUFF… Lots and Lots of STUFF. Shops , malls , homeshopping walls, is it enough stuff? Is it stuff enough ? We don’t know any better I guess. And now home shopping replaces television trinity ministry in some homes I guess.  and now at least people are getting something for their money.

taxes to taxes, dust to dust. they do everything for us.

Originally published at TousledElegance.net

With spring on the way (well, I hope it is!), I am starting to consider changing my look a bit. I achieved one goal already; my hair is to the middle of my back and nearly covers my boobs in the front. Next comes colour! I have been having the black hair versus red hair debate with myself for a few months. I think I have decided on black. Right now, I am about a level 5/medium brown, but black (level 1) is my natural colour. Up until fairly recently, I have hated it. Now, I am embracing it (thanks, emo/scene kids!) and noticing how it 'makes my eyes pop' and my skin look more porcelain. Whereas red, though I love it so much, emphasizes my pink undertones and makes me ruddier (more ruddy?); it requires maintenance too. I have been using my entertainment money to have my hair washed and styled twice a week at the salon instead of spending it on something else (i.e. booze, going out), so I probably should not add another expense into my routine there.

I had this image in my head of the cut and colour. I was picturing a dark Veronica Lake feel. I only today realized I had seen it on someone before and who that someone was- Dita Von Teese. Great since I love arming myself with photos for my stylist and it is easy to find several of her. I like this one in particular. My bangs are long enough to brush over and hide under my hair until they are longer. (I will definitely miss them, but the weekly trims and monthly relaxers needed to keep them properly shaped are annoying me.) And, if I decide to go lighter afterwards, I have always been able to lift several levels from black quickly and easily without frying. In fact, even though I abuse the flat iron, my hair is still so strong I can usually relax and colour it in one shot with very little damage and no breakage. (Dad’s genes, yay!) I even went from black to actual platinum blond in two processes done in the same day once - wow! Honestly, the only drawback with this new darker look is that I would feel compelled to do my brows perfectly every day (at the moment, I do a fast, rough sketch since they are covered by bangs) and to wear makeup in the morning since my face will be so exposed (usually I put it on at lunchhour). No sense in having glam hair and a bare face :P Oooh, I'm nervous and excited!

The prospect of warmer weather has me interested in nail art again too. (For some reason, it just doesn't appeal to me as much when it is cold outside. No idea why!) If it looks like it is going to be consistently in the 60's or 70's or week after next, I think I may get airbrushed tiger stripes, an orange background with black markings overlayed on my fingers and doing a solid orange coat on my toes. Right now I am wearing a polish so horrendously sheer that I am really itching for something bold. I also like the idea of a white background with a flower of some sort painted on with a green stem and pink leaves on my hands sometime in April. I'd probably do the same pink on my toes. My mother wonders when I became such a girl :)

I dance like That Guy. You know who That Guy is - the one everybody scoots away from on the floor, the one they keep glancing at and snickering about. Oh, alright, maybe I am not that bad, but I usually opt out of dancing because I know it is not a skill or talent I possess. Well, usually… although, at the gay bars, I can vamp it up like I’m on Club MTV [I’m dating myself with that reference] and no one thinks anything of it because they are all doing the same thing… and besides, I’m a girl [*ew*] and no one pays attention to me in those places.

It’s odd though, because you’d assume that since I can play several instruments, sing and read music that I would have enough of a sense of rhythm to get my groove on without looking like the stereotypical Honky/Cracker. Alas, no! My mental abilities and my physical abilities are completely, embarrassingly, caucasianly [is that a word?!] out of synch. I mean, c’mon, I nearly failed Gym class in school, so that should give you some indication of my lack of coordination!

But, I’ll let you in on a little secret… Sometimes, when no one is home, I put on an ‘old skool’ record from the New Jack Swing era and pretend I am some skeezer in a rap video. [Yo, yo!] You won’t see that on the Voyeur Cams though. I’ll spare you “That Guy!”

Originally published at TousledElegance.net