The Other Side of the Coin

Over the past two months or so I've lost approximately 20 pounds, which is rapid for any person. Other than the obvious health benefits I failed to consider the downsides. After 21 years I had become comfortable in my own skin, I knew what outside stimulants brought specific bodily reactions, I knew how to manipulate my body to get the responses I wanted, namely orgasms.

Of course it all boils down to sex. Sex is my physical outlet, often times through masturbation. Without that outlet there are noticeable and drastic changes both emotionally and physically. I get cranky, bitchy, and all number of other expletives, my back and neck tense more and more, like my whole body is under pressure until eventually I snap. Sex helps me relieve that pressure and keeps my mind clear and my body relaxed.

Logically speaking, losing weight should increase libido but I haven't found that yet. If anything, my libido has decreased. Granted, that could be due to intense emotional strain from the past few months, but typically under stress my sexual needs are more pronounced than anything. Not to mention, even when I do masturbate, my orgasms are a light pop where they used to be a roaring explosion. They're more difficult to bring about and I can't have them in rapid succession like I used to-- something that took years of time to develop for me.

Perhaps it's just because I haven't been as active in masturbation as I used to. Perhaps it's the medications I'm taking now, a slight change in body chemistry could alter any number of things. Or maybe it's just that my body is changing rapidly and it isn't the same long enough for me to figure it out again.

Every day I notice something new. My toes are thinner, and appear much longer and more gangly than they used to. My shoulders are more square and my arms are thinner, the bones in my ankles are more pronounced and my face is less round. I'm sure tomorrow morning I'll see something else I hadn't noticed.

I'm concerned because what if the things my body used to respond to, the things I really enjoy, don't feel the same as they had before? What if my body reacts differently, negatively even? I suppose I'll have to start from scratch again, re-exploring all of the things I had experimented with before. While a fresh start could lead somewhere even better than before, it's disheartening to know that I couldn't enjoy my 'old' self longer.

A few more months down the road and I'll be waking up as an entirely different person, physically anyway.

Well, here's to change, and all the paths of discovery it may open up.

For the Record...

I just want it stated that when I die, I want my toys buried with me. All of them. Namely the Hitachi Magic Wand.

If there is an afterlife, and if the things you are entombed with are the things you can take with you, I want to be prepared.

Ebb and Flow

As with all things, there is a natural and cyclical progression. In my experience, human relationships are no different. Whether we are relating to another person, or to an idea, an expression, a passion, a thing; there always seems to be a time when we need to withdraw, and other times when we need to push ahead. The length of the cycle can vary, a pianist may go years without playing, but eventually, in a long enough time line, they will play again.

Writing, for me, is no different. There is a strong ebb and flow that usually follows the same pattern. Inspiration comes from emotional upheaval, whether it be negative or positive emotions. I'll feel inspired for a few days, then it just won't come as naturally, and I'll settle back in to my normal routine. My words always convey how I'm feeling at the time.

Right now I'm feeling a bit lost. I know where I want to go but right now it's only an idea. I have no guidance, and no path that's been shown to me. It's a largely organic process but it's tiring. I'm 21 years old and I feel as if I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, when really all I have are the weight of my own expectations.

I'm also afraid. Of failure, of letting myself down, of not being the absolute best that I'm capable of. It's frustrating when you know you can do more, but there's a wall around you, and as hard as you search, you can't figure out what that wall is, let alone how to traverse it. I keep telling myself that things will happen in their own time, that forcing myself to do what is necessary when my heart isn't in it would be the worst thing I could do. But I simply don't know right now.

I want to learn, I want to make connections and relate things to each other. Peace for me comes from seeing those interrelated intricacies that seem to be overlooked, from being able to witness things come together, from accomplishing something that I set my mind to.

I know what I have to do. I have to keep moving. I have to let go of what I have here and find somewhere where I can immerse myself in my passions, completely surrounded by what inspires me. I'm just not sure if I'm ready. I'll probably never know when I'm ready. I just hope that I'm not paralyzed where I am. I have come so far, and changed so much to be who I am now. I've sought out what I wanted to learn in order to grow and become what I think I can be, but again, what I want is still so far away.

I'm not doubting my abilities, I'm not doubting who I am. I know what I'm capable of and I know how far I'll go to reach for something. I just wish I didn't have to wait.

Flash!

So, I had to stop masturbating long enough to say some things about the BiMiNi Flash...

I'm not kidding, the porn is still going and everything.

It's this adorable little toy from FunFactory that packs quite a punch, with 9 different intensities from light rumble to full-on bumble and three varying patterns of pulses, it's a rabbit-style design with dual motors and it's rechargeable. No joke, I'm in love.

It's tiny, the whole thing fits on my hand (and I have small hands) and it may look a bit wimpy, but the insertable length is just enough to stimulate all of my goodies, and my clit is happy to boot. Not to mention it's made out of silicone, it's waterproof, and oh yea, it has a super-chic design that just screams German engineering.

I could throw this little toy into any bag, purse included, and not only is it small enough to not cause a scene, but you have to press the on button for two seconds before it starts getting it's groove on, so you don't have to worry about it going off at random times because your chapstick got all up in it's business. I'm half tempted to take it to work, I'm quite serious.

Now it's not the most quiet toy I've ever heard, but it's certainly more discreet than most. At the highest speed setting, it creates quite a buzz, but the lower settings are fairly quiet. It certainly doesn't make the loud noise that a Hitachi produces (well, at least the motors don't make a loud noise) and in all honesty until you get into the higher range of settings, it sounds like an electric toothbrush (so lock yourself in the bathroom with it?).

I love it! It's just too cute and really I can't think of any negatives from my perspective. Now if you're a gal who doesn't like any clitoral stimulation or needs a lot of vaginal fullness for satisfaction, this may not be the toy for you, but with it's wide range of speeds and settings, I'm pretty sure just about anyone could use it and be quite happy with it.

And fellas! I haven't forgotten you. I haven't tested it yet (yet being the operative word) but I'm fairly certain this would make a great buzzy butt toy. It's long enough to reach your prostate but slim enough to not crack open your piggy bank. Oh, and on the lower settings, it would make a great ball massager too. Just saying.

Here's a pic!

Isn't it cute?

Mirror

I've always been the girl that never quite fit, the oddball of oddballs, and while my ideas aren't radical (to me at least) they aren't common. It's been like that as long as I can remember. Where most girls in grade school drew their personal foundations from Barbie and their mothers, I drew from strong feminine historical figures. My mother wasn't overly pushy about what I should do or who I should be, she went overboard on how I should be independent and self-sufficient starting way back before I was even walking. It took, and now I'm more stubborn and proud than most men. My thoughts and ideas are pretty much androgynous, I'm a feminist, a little femmy, a little more butchy, and just a little odd.

I've struggled with that for most of my life. I didn't understand how I was different, or why I was different, why I would be the one overjoyed about a new book when any other girl would be overjoyed about a new doll or bow or ribbon. It took me years to understand that there really is no reason. I'm different. Not better, just different.

I'm the girl who will have to be dragged, forcibly, down an aisle to be married. I'm the girl who likes children, in small doses, but don't really want any of my own. I'm the girl who will choose a career and a passion for sex and the world and culture over the white picket fence and raising a family any day. I'm perfectly content being the spinster with too many cats and even more stories to tell. I'll have more lovers over time than I will serious committed relationships, and even those relationships won't be the 'traditional' set-up.

There has always been this pressure to do the "woman thing" and set your goals to be a wife and mother. Even among all of the leaps and bounds that feminism has had over the decades, that pressure is still there, stoked by traditionalists and also by people that simply believe that a woman's place is in the kitchen, raising a family. While that may work for some, while being a homemaker may be their fulfillment, it would be my shackles.

Aside from marriage and child-rearing, women are also traditionally boxed-in sexually as well. Culturally we are told as a gender that we should be delicate, and submissive to our male partner's desires. Our needs come last, if our needs are even recognized at all.

I'm not saying a woman's needs should come first in a relationship, far from it. Whatever genders come together in an encounter, there is always a symbiotic balance in which both people can be entirely satisfied without compromising the other's position. We are all puzzle pieces with many different sides, varying appendages, varying indentations, and it's all constantly changing. Human sexuality, especially female sexuality, is very fluid and organic. No two people are exactly alike in the same way that no two people are exactly complimentary.

Again, though, society leads us to believe otherwise. There is an unwritten standard of what is normal and acceptable and we are pushed to attain that standard instead of simply finding our own way. Female-born bodies are pushed to be feminine and maternal, while male-born bodies are pushed to be strong and masculine, with an unyielding emphasis on machismo. That pattern just doesn't work for some people.

It has taken me years to stop trying to be that standard of what is believed to be the feminine ideal. It's still a struggle, I still have to recognize when I'm trying to push myself into a box that I just won't fit in to, but my personal choice is to not be that standard unless it's something I'm contented with, unless it's something that I choose for myself. I enjoy my fluidity, I enjoy being able to float between delicate and aggressive, between power and submission, between feminine and masculine, and anywhere else I choose to go.

I used to use the world as a mirror. A reflection of what I should be based on the opinions of society and specifically those around me. I would reflect what they wanted to see, and it showed. I still didn't fit because I can't change who I am to fit someone else's idea of who I should be. I need to be happy to change. I need to want that change for myself and once I attain that change I have to be content with it.

I will change, over time, in a slow process of learning and doing, but it will be the lessons I choose to learn, and the things I choose to do. I will be my own mirror.

Predicament...

Now this might not sound like the end of the world to most of the world, but I'm running low on lube.

I'm getting into the red zone of my favorite lube to date, the pump-action 8.45 fluid ounce bottle of Maximus lube. You can call it Wonder Lube or Magic Lube, if you like.

I got it some time in June, so roughly 6 months to drain this sucker, and while that may seem like a long time, I didn't start vigorously using it until a few months ago.

It's sort of that accomplished feeling that you get after you extinguish a bottle of toothpaste.

Anywho, luckily I ordered two new bottles (one Maximus, one Liquid Silk) and they're on their way, but the bleak question is, will they make it here in time?

I'll elaborate... I masturbate, a lot. A lot, a lot. It keeps me sane. It keeps me happy. It keeps me from being an outright snarky sarcastic cranky bitch with no verbal filter. It therefore keeps the world a happier place.

Now do we see the importance of lube?