(no subject)
I am so glad I went to Hell. I've been trying to go since shortly before I ran a scene in Roundabout there, but I've been busy or sick or tired or feeling too crappy to go out. But tonight, I took my lover's advice and had a great nap at twilight.
I sleep best at twilight, for whatever reason. I wake up discombobulated because of not having witnessed the transition between day and night, but I'm much less groggy than if I try to nap in the early evening.
So I went to Hell on Resurrection (Goth) Night, but both the DJs called in sick. Their replacements were pretty awful. Well, I guess I could be a bit nicer and say their replacements were big fans of Industrial. As I get older, I get even less tolerant of those tracks in Industrial, Metal, and Punk which are nothing but screaming and feedback noise. A "song" that is mostly feedback noise is like extremely spicy food. Great, I can't feel my tongue. Or my face. How am I even aware that I'm eating at all?
I love Nine Inch Nails, probably because so few of Mr. Reznor's songs are pure feedback & screaming. He knows how to build up to a great wail, then tone it down, then scream when you aren't expecting it. Like "Dirt", although of course you can't tell on the cover that Johnny Cash did of it.
Anyway, this was the first time I'd been to Hell with almost no hair. It was extremely strange but quite cool to be thoroughly checked out. I was definitely drawing attention, and I don't think they were all staring at my Harry Potter T-shirt.
One very beautiful person (female, I think, but I'm not quite sure and I certainly don't care- hooray for being a fencesitter) was not only looking at me, she was very pointedly giving me coy looks and singing along with the parts of the song that said "I love you". She bumped her arm against mine, I think intentionally. I felt hot and bashful and wished I could be something other than outrageously shy.
I think someday I could be bold around hot womyn. I just need to remember the magic words.
"I have licked the pussy of an extremely beautiful, interesting, intelligent womyn!"
I am no longer a quasi-bisexual. I am no longer someone who's kind of done some things with womyn, but not all that much. My tongue has danced on another womyn's vulva. I've tasted sweet salty brine . . . similar to mine, but definitely not the same. I have fucked a womyn, to satisfy almost anyone's definition.
And there's no such thing as a shy Top. The things I want to do with womyn are almost all Top things, so I need to repeat the magic words in my head every time I kind of want to approach a womyn but am not quite sure of myself.
I should say doctorellisdee's magic words, too. "Be BOLD!" Worked extremely well for him. And the worst that could happen is my thick, rejection-proof skin gets a workout.
But I talked to the beautiful creature. Twice. I know her name, she knows mine. Mayhaps I'll brave the feedback crap a few more times in the near future. Mayhaps I'll ask for her email addy.
Speaking of womyn, I really hope the gorgeous photographer I met at FFF is there at Arisia. I'd like confirmation that my email was received and she thinks I'm a total dork. It really is possible that she isn't using that addy or her spam filters filtered me out . . . the eternal optimist. I really have to go sleep now.
I sleep best at twilight, for whatever reason. I wake up discombobulated because of not having witnessed the transition between day and night, but I'm much less groggy than if I try to nap in the early evening.
So I went to Hell on Resurrection (Goth) Night, but both the DJs called in sick. Their replacements were pretty awful. Well, I guess I could be a bit nicer and say their replacements were big fans of Industrial. As I get older, I get even less tolerant of those tracks in Industrial, Metal, and Punk which are nothing but screaming and feedback noise. A "song" that is mostly feedback noise is like extremely spicy food. Great, I can't feel my tongue. Or my face. How am I even aware that I'm eating at all?
I love Nine Inch Nails, probably because so few of Mr. Reznor's songs are pure feedback & screaming. He knows how to build up to a great wail, then tone it down, then scream when you aren't expecting it. Like "Dirt", although of course you can't tell on the cover that Johnny Cash did of it.
Anyway, this was the first time I'd been to Hell with almost no hair. It was extremely strange but quite cool to be thoroughly checked out. I was definitely drawing attention, and I don't think they were all staring at my Harry Potter T-shirt.
One very beautiful person (female, I think, but I'm not quite sure and I certainly don't care- hooray for being a fencesitter) was not only looking at me, she was very pointedly giving me coy looks and singing along with the parts of the song that said "I love you". She bumped her arm against mine, I think intentionally. I felt hot and bashful and wished I could be something other than outrageously shy.
I think someday I could be bold around hot womyn. I just need to remember the magic words.
"I have licked the pussy of an extremely beautiful, interesting, intelligent womyn!"
I am no longer a quasi-bisexual. I am no longer someone who's kind of done some things with womyn, but not all that much. My tongue has danced on another womyn's vulva. I've tasted sweet salty brine . . . similar to mine, but definitely not the same. I have fucked a womyn, to satisfy almost anyone's definition.
And there's no such thing as a shy Top. The things I want to do with womyn are almost all Top things, so I need to repeat the magic words in my head every time I kind of want to approach a womyn but am not quite sure of myself.
I should say doctorellisdee's magic words, too. "Be BOLD!" Worked extremely well for him. And the worst that could happen is my thick, rejection-proof skin gets a workout.
But I talked to the beautiful creature. Twice. I know her name, she knows mine. Mayhaps I'll brave the feedback crap a few more times in the near future. Mayhaps I'll ask for her email addy.
Speaking of womyn, I really hope the gorgeous photographer I met at FFF is there at Arisia. I'd like confirmation that my email was received and she thinks I'm a total dork. It really is possible that she isn't using that addy or her spam filters filtered me out . . . the eternal optimist. I really have to go sleep now.