I'm writing this 'cos the above thought occurred to me when I was with my other half this afternoon. He very kindly cleaned my windows, before we found other things to do. And I realised I had ended up with a sore bum and clean windows and it gave me the giggles. As you can probably tell my Beloved is a very scary man and a stereotype macho Dom-type who suits me perfectly. ...He also has a mean way with the Fairyliquid and window blade thingy!

...Don't say you weren't warned!!!

I've been doing work stuff and wanted some light relief so thought I'd have a visit here, but not sure what to write about, hence the warning.

I've had windows cleaned today - first time in years for outside of upstairs ones. I DID think about what might be seen. I have a rather lovely tall vase with canes, crops, flyswat,rulers, etc, so moved out of sight.

Weather in Cardiff is bitter, but my house is quite cosy. After over six years of living here, my bedroom has finally become my bedroom! I've been sleeping in the 'office' since moving here. My office is a very nice double bedroom with sofabed, but lovely to have a proper bedroom at last- especially one that is not attached to my next-door neighbour...:D

I was on local radio yesterday and they got my name, my organisation and my role wrong. I managed to sound quite sensible, even if questions I was asked were not relevant to my job. Of course all the stuff about what my organisation CAN do wasn't used, but at least I was able to say that it is possible to be bullied, depressed and/or suicidal without others realising - Which seems a pretty sensible message to get over, even if that wasn't what I was there to say!

I've had a week of seeing my beloved every day, but next week will only see him twice Time to count the old blessings I guess....

Bad enough that the ads think I need to ge my ex back, but now they're suggesting I need kissing lessons!!!
Kiss of the cane?!

It's been a while since I wrote here so I thought I'd have a little 'scribble'.

Had a slightly mad time as I went to London last week and then had to go to North Wales the following day. I was very excited to see a fox in a garden in Arsenal. Of course, nowadays the wildlife in cities can outdo what you see in the countryside, but it still seemed strange. The fox was sat on a birdtable in a garden and it's the best view I've ever had of one.

Today I've been to Ammanford for a meeting and then had lunch with my other half in Neath. A very pleasant day.

Justin mentioned in his blog that Jan 23rd is supposed to be most depressing day according to a Cardiff academic. I had very nice day at home with my 'Cariad'. He did the painting while I did the cooking! I am amused by the traditional roles we sometimes take. He happens to have the patience for decorating and we've just discovered I can cook a mean rice pudding as well as fabulous artery-clogging sauteed potatoes...

Yesterday evening I went to pub with my friend G and we were talking about making one's living from the thing that makes you feel passionate. Ideally I'd like to make money writing spanking stuff - both erotica and informative stuff. Going back to stuff I've said before, I do feel people who have a kink feel vulnerable in terms of exposure, ridicule, career choice etc. i would like professionals in sexuality to be talking about fetish as well as straight/bi/gay orientation. Practically every spanko with whom I've had dialogue has had fantasies since childhood. We argue among ourselves over nature/nurture, but whichever it is, or what combination, many of us have 'known' since before adolescence.

G and I were joking about my chances of getting on Richard and Judy! I have written to 'Woman's Hour'...

I've just watched CBB - my dose of TV for the evening - It is facinating to watch just how nasty and two-faced George, Dennis and Pete can be. While I saw how viscious Barrymore can be, he actually made sense this time round, but he is a practiced manipulator. I think Maggot seems the most sensible at the moment. And Chantelle and Preston seem awfully young and innocent, while Tracie just seems confused....

When I previewed this there were ads about getting back one's ex! Weird....

Heard this fascinating piece about Philip K Dick on Radio 4 this evening. As said elsewhere I think his SF was brilliant, but found him dubious. What I hadn't realised is that he thought he may have encountered God towards the end of his life and has written about it.

He had been mentally ill and was an LSD user, but he was intrigued by the pink light experience being something else. Apparently he also spoke latin on a 'trip', and may have been a gladiator in a former life...

Interesting programme if you like that sort of thing - And I do.

As I got my unrequited and unslaked lust mixed up it got me thinking.
This is the opening of a story I started that IS about unrequited(possibly) lust. it is definitely fiction, but inspired by various experiences and thoughts over the years... it's a bit rambling, so apologies, but it was semi-therapeutic when I wrote it.

Not an Affair: Gill’s Story

Jac and I are not having an affair. Despite the names (if not spelt quite right) we are just good friends. Despite the rumours we simply enjoy each other’s company. Despite the phone calls and emails and lunches we believe in the possibility and reality of platonic relationships between the sexes. At least that’s what I think although I’ve never actually asked Jac about it – funny that… I know of course he often goes out with his mainly female workmates and gets on with his wife’s colleagues who are also female.

I’ve talked about platonic friends with him several times; but not about him and me – Oh, God – how does that sound - Like most of my friends he knows about my college days when I found myself in a mainly male group of friends. I was not naïve nor had I ever been about these friendships. I knew the friends who’d have loved to have shagged me. My obvious lack of interest, however, ensured that they settled for friendship with good grace and the clumsy attempts at anything else were conveniently forgotten.

I’d always enjoyed the platonic friendships where there was obviously sexual chemistry but other partners or a path untaken meant that it was unlikely to go further. I’d have denied it vehemently, but I relished the ensuing erotically charged flirtation based on a probability that nothing would happen. There was the once or twice (Twice! I know it’s twice… Who am I trying to kid? I remember both of them vividly!)…twice that partnerships and paths had altered. I found that going from platonic to erotic was very easy indeed.

Both of these youthful crossovers were men I’d really fancied from the beginning. It was circumstances not attraction that had changed – Oh, God! -John’s ‘change of circumstances’- a welcomed seduction in his girlfriend’s absence! How shallow was that? I guess I was young…

Neither John nor Neil ever felt especially ‘safe’ - This despite John having a girlfriend and Neil being the best friend of my boyfriend of the time. From the beginning I was aware of possibilities with both men in different circumstances and sensed their matching interest. Flirtation with the ‘safe’ and ‘dangerous’ men seemed similar but have always felt completely different.

I’d never have admitted it of course, but I noticed certain ‘slipperiness’ in the knicker department after an evening of flirting with Neil when his best mate, my boyfriend was away on placement. Of course I told myself my body was simply reacting to my monthly cycle or I’d been thinking about my boyfriend (Mike – funny that Neil was more memorable than Mike although that relationship had lasted only a couple of months compared with my year with Mike…). Once I was aware of the phenomenon of my ‘creamed knickers’ as my cruder friends would have labelled it I must admit I was intrigued by the possibility of flirting as the cause of a matching ‘disturbance in the trouser department’ – I mean you can’t just look can you? Well, I can’t – I’d die if I were caught!

It was, however an area I didn’t dare discuss with friends platonic or otherwise at the time. It was many years later that I discussed the phenomenon with a male, gay friend who was terribly amused at my attempt at discretion regarding the effect of flirtation on the male member. Paul assured me that such a reaction was not uncommon when flirting. He felt pretty sure that it was also as common to the straight as it was to the gay man.

Paul was a great believer in good hard sex but was also of the opinion that flirtation was terribly sexy. He assured me, that some of his most erotic moments had occurred during flirtation. While Paul appreciated a good shag, he felt that a lusty flirtation was still hard to beat, as he told me in no uncertain terms to my delight and horror. When he demanded to know the ’view from the other side’ as he put it, and inquired after the state of my knickers during flirtation I pleaded innocence and the Fifth Amendment!

The real irony is that I get the slippery knickers after talking stats and destination figures! I’ve just realised – I’ve never actually flirted with Jac! We’ve talked about sex – seriously and bawdily – but never flirted…

I remember him saying ‘knob’ and I was really shocked – it wasn’t inappropriate – it was a crowd of us discussing some comedy and he was describing clichés of bad taste and described something as the ‘equivalent of getting your knob out at a party’ – I found myself shocked at his choosing that word and wondered if he described his that way. It also seemed sexy in its crudeness. He’s so nicely spoken in that sing-song Welsh lilt of his and although I’m used to a witty smuttiness from him I was mesmerised by his ‘knob’ and found myself thinking about his whatever-he-calls-it and if he has a name for it when he fucks or makes love and if he does both and if he has different words for the acts and the bits if he does do both… All this happened almost outside of real time and we carried on talking, laughing and drinking and I wondered at the state of my knickers thinking about Jac’s knob…

As I began to realise I was getting a new internal sex life based on our innocent encounters I started to enjoy it in a ‘sensible’ and harmless way. I told myself it was a hormonal madness resulting from my fortieth birthday and decided my husband might as well benefit from it. John’s at college and Jan’s on her gap year so Luke thinks my new enthusiasm is the result of us having the house to ourselves for the first time in twenty years…

I started to wear my best underwear when I was seeing him – Jac, not Luke – not ‘just in case’ because I knew neither of us would dream of doing anything and I didn’t even think he was interested anyway. It was just me enjoying feeling sexy in a secret way. I’d got it into my head that he didn’t even like conventionally ‘sexy’ lingerie and found it a bit tawdry – can’t remember why I thought that. Then one day he was regaling me with tales of his wife attending an Anne Summers party. I asked if she’d bought anything nice and he said he didn’t know yet but was hoping as he’d always had a soft spot for naughty frills, flounces and suspenders despite a fear that this made him Neanderthal. We then had a very cerebral discussion on the sources of sexual imprinting that ended in giggles as neither of us could understand how you got ‘imprinted’ to be turned on by having cream cakes thrown at you.

I felt sexy wearing my flimsies and that was before I knew Jac liked such things. As I said, Luke thought it was just me having a rerun of our youth and he got into the habit of checking what I was wearing under my college garb when I got home, assuming the sexier stuff meant I was in the mood – and I always was… Knowing Luke would discover my flimsies (and occasional lack of knickers) and suppose my readiness added to eroticism of my time with Jac. Just being with him got me excited; then the thought of Luke checking to see if I was secretly tarted up and knowing I’d be fucked – Well – I couldn’t lose could I? And I did do my best to think of Luke when I was with him…

I’m not sure how it all started or when… I’ve always fancied men from the beginning or liked them in a non-sexual way. I met Jac at a conference and we ‘clicked’. We were surrounded by other college administrators and he and I were among the few who actually worked directly with students and became part of a group that like us were feeling slightly rebellious and ‘out of it’ when the majority were obsessing about systems.

Most of us ‘touchy-feelies’ had chosen a workshop on qualitative research interviewing. Jac was one of only three men. Another woman and I ended up with the men for a practical exercise. We jelled and formed an escape party that took over a corner of the bar throughout the rest of the course’s free time. As well as both working in South Wales Jac and I shared a sense of the absurd and similar politics. He was obviously a committed family man and although pleasant looking I didn’t consider him as particularly attractive.

When we met again at a further education forum we were happy to have the chance to work together as part of a South Wales college initiative. We’d both enjoyed being part of the clique at the conference and enjoyed each other’s company. So far so platonic… Somewhere between those first few meetings (sometimes with others and sometimes just the two us) and the ‘knob’ comment I found myself feeling less platonic towards him. I slowly realised my eagerness to catch up with my colleague and new friend was not what it seemed… And there was the evidence of my knickers as well…

This was the thing I posted originally. I called it unslaked rather than unrequited which is more accurate.

In praise of unslaked lust....
by suzeemoon @ Sunday, 04. Dec, 2005 - 18:02:32

I had the opportunity of seeing my other half on Saturday:D but in rather limiting circumstances as he was working.

We managed some handholding and a brief kiss and cuddle. While it would have been lovely to have done all sorts of things together, there is something about unrealised desire that is heady and enlivening. Of course we know we're seeing each other with privacy in a few days time but there is something very sexy about deprivation and delayed gratification that can add to the fun and excitement I think. Many of us because of circumstances are limited in our 'quality time' together (life has a way of carrying on and getting in the way!) but it can add to the sweetness...

This is a rant inspired by my friend G.....

On our way back from a hostelry in Roath G began moaning the theft of our pavements - And he's right! I remember paving stones, but much of Roath is now 'paved' in tar!

Of course the 'Who' is superfluous - it has to have been the local authority. I assume the 'Why' is financial but 'When'? And how come we didn't notice?

It's the same around much of Fairwater, although Pwllmellyn Road is a strange mix of broken paving stones, concrete, tar and 'pretend' paving that seems to be concrete or tar.

I'm now curious as to whether this is universal or a Cardiff thing.

But? There's a but?
Well...Yes, there is...

I wrote a while back about the sweetness of unrequited lust, and think for sheer sexiness it can rival actual sex at times.

Having been touched by Landers' account of restraint and writing my own, it makes me ponder that delayed gratification can add to the sweetness and tenderness of future eroticism and intimacy.

That said, unless one chooses celibacy as an ethical or moral choice I think there is room for confusion around those with whom we have sex or don't.

It seems odd when people who have sex see lack of sex as proof of depth of feeling. I worked with young people and one young woman thought her latest boyfriend must love her because he didn't want to have sex with her! As I said - delayed gratification is powerful, but sex with meaning is very special. I can only assume 'Not wanting sex with me, means he loves me' reflects sex that is not equally desired by both parties and becomes that cliche of being 'the only thing s/he wants me for'

I think delaying sex to make it more meaningful is fabulous, but 'respecting' some by not having sex with them while mindlessly bonking elsewhere seems a twisted version of sexuality.

p.s. Wonder what ads this will attract....

I really enjoyed Landers' piece on meeting his partner and felt inspired to do similar. The title speaks for itself...

Kissing is Dangerous…

She joked that kissing was dangerous but knew that it was true.

She had been glad to find a friend with whom she could share erotic ideas and seemed so in tune with her other thoughts. Someone who agreed that PK Dick was both brilliant and awful. Someone who not only understood ‘Swansea camp’ but could speak it… Someone who understood why something called the ‘dreaded duck of doom’ was funny… Someone who thought said duck speaking Swansea camp and wearing tartan slippers was even funnier.

And when the exchange of erotic writing rang bells, melted her, thrilled her and reduced her to cliché-addled confusion, how could she not know that cyber was dangerous?

She also knew then that talking would be dangerous. And it was. But how could she have avoided it? How could she have not gone on to find out? And how then, could she not fall for the Welsh lilt and laugh? How could she not be spellbound by the interchange that was so much swifter than the emails that had hooked her?

And how could she ever forget that glorious moment of the pause and the words ‘Spank you’ said with feeling and in that accent in answer to her question? The words so thrilling after the innocent banter and traditional flirting.

And of course she knew that meeting would be dangerous, but how could she not? How could she not find out when she was living for emails, then for phone calls? And how could she not, when his haunting presence followed her to London? And how could she not when he kept her awake? And how could she not when she knew she was already unfaithful? And how could she not, when she needed to know…

And she found that meeting was dangerous. And she found that meeting in the most innocent of circumstances and ‘behaving’ did not stop the electricity of an accidental touch of the hand. And she found that she was not capable of innocence no matter how well she behaved in his presence. And she understood sins of thought better than any catechismal definition. And she understood the subtleties of adultery and betrayal as she understood that kissing was dangerous. And she accepted her culpability with that knowledge.

And she changed her life before they kissed because she already knew that kissing was dangerous. How could it not be? She had known that cyber was dangerous. She had known that words were dangerous. She had known that thoughts were dangerous. She had known that voices were dangerous. She had known that meeting was dangerous. They had joked that kissing was dangerous.

And knowing, she finally kissed him.

it probably isn't THAT spooky, but misbehaving and confusing technology can seem that way to a computer-loving luddite like me

I was grousing about my Windows spellchecker here a while back - It doesn't allow me to add to its vocabulary unlike the American one on my Mozilla email that I've ben corrupting with English spellings and things I decree ought to be words eg. spankee, BDSM, wittering, my favourite Welsh words, rows of kisses, ooh and aaah etc

My beloved and I had time together when we were actually talking computers and I was showing him the additions to my American Spellchecker's vocab. I went to demonstrate that my Windows one was less friendly and wrote 'Suzee' and it didn't show it as a spelling mistake! I made a deliberate spelling mistake which it did pick up. I went on to how how I couldn't add to the list of words and now I can! And it recognises my given surname! I'm sure there's a rational explanation, but I don't have it. Sadly if I write 'Dear.... and add a comma Windows still crashes, so I'm still bugged/infected/corrupted in parts!

I think this should be the label on most things in life!
I couldn't resist an hour's TV because I knew what a weird mix were in the Celebrity Big Brother house. Not sure if it counts as mild peril, but I saw an ad for the new penguin documentary film that religious America see as so meaningful. I was delighted by the warning on the film ad that it 'Contains Mild Peril'!
Sounds a bit like proof of the 'political correctness gone mad' that we keep hearing about. Earlier I'd heard very nice defence of much that is called 'pc' by Roy Hattersley. Unsurprising to anyone who's got my measure, I preferred his contributions to 'Any Questions' than Kelvin McKenzie's!

Of course! I knew there was something similar I'd heard - It was the Bacon number - Thanks, Timsuzi!

I too like the butterfly thing,kickflip and all the path not taken stuff.

Although a bit naff, I enjoyed the 'Sliding Doors' film and have read similar stuff.

Alternative universe scenarios do open up all sorts of possibilities along these lines. I think Phillip K Dick does that sort of thing brilliantly. One of the sub-plots in 'Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?' that isn't in 'Bladerunner' is really good as is the premise of 'Flow My Tears the Policeman Said'. I also love the humour of 'Back to the Future' and 'Peggy-Sue Got Married'. I rather fancy idea of reliving some past life knowing what I do now and seeing what happens, but also knowing I can be whisked back into my current reality!

I was recently discussing this series (at least a five-part 'trilogy' to my knowledge) with new acquaintance and just mentioned to my other half. I liked the early books where it was more about character than toys and pseudo science. The basic premise is that everyone from earth is reborn on a mystery planet, so you get this amazing coming together of diverse people. Sir Richard F Burton the explorer and Alice Liddle of 'Alice in Wonderland' fame are one unlikely meeting.

Of course if it were to happen, (like reincarnation)most of us are serving lords rather than Prince Hamlet and will meet other non-famous folk, but I love the potential for serendipity in the idea. I had joked about a spanking version. I do tend to imagine spanking versions of all sorts of things.I'm thinking about rereading the series and I'm sure Alice is irritating enough to spank....

At 3.30 in the afternoon they are running a 15 minute 'Adventures of Dougal' slot based on 'The Magic Roundabout':D Bizarre, gentle and funny IMO - What a combination!

I just love Radio 4. Today I was listening to Desert Island Discs and the guest was Kelly Holmes. It's hard to imagine someone with whom I'd expect to have less interest, yet I found this ex-army, army-loving athlete rather inspirational.

Kelly sounds incredibly positive but has been so depressed and messed up that she has actually self-harmed and cut herself. She has achieved her ambitions to be an Olympic winner and now wants to inspire everyone to take up sport at their own level. She just sounds so content with life and full of joy.

She also chose two songs I've never heard but really liked. One was by Destiny's Child (very modern for me!) called 'Independent Woman' and the other was Heather Headley (never heard of her...) singing 'Always Been Your Girl'

I just love the serendipity of Radio 4...

I don't believe in resolutions as such but like the idea of starting the new year as positively as possible. Ideally, I would see it in with the one I love, but he is away. I am however, being positive on my own knowing he is in my life.

My house is reasonably clean (these things are of course relative! ) and I did my outstanding washing up before starting lunch. I had breakfast (tea and toast) and I cooked a 'proper' dinner. I also broke open (in a manner of speaking...) a new pair of knickers and socks and clean clothing to celebrate the new year.

I had a nice morning of radio and doing puzzles (hanjie)and collected my newspaper from the corner shop.

I continued to be positive. I ate a very good Sunday lunch (chicken excellent, veg slightly overdone) at the table, washed up straight away and went for walk before I fainted at all this positivity!

I've since done a load of washing and a second load is just starting.... Oh - And I'm drying them in empty bedroom so place isn't like a 'Chinese Laundry'!

I've also RSVP'd some friends re my first invitation to a civil ceremony celebration and sent New Year's greetings to other friends...Phew!

Of course it could all be displacement activity, but it is very good displacement activity.

Later I intend having Cadbury's choc cake and custard - it's not good for me, but positive to indulge oneself I think - That's my excuse anyway!

I wish everyone the very best for 2006.

Happy New Year, everyone!
I've just had a rather nice firework display courtesy of the neighbours!