Honesty Scrap

Tag, I’m it! Roxy at Uncommon Curiosity has passed the baton to me, along with nine others, to complete this meme.

There are three rules for this award:

First, link back to the person who gave you the award: Miss Roxy the Uncommonly Curious.

Next, give the award to ten other bloggers:

(I’m gonna cheat here a little bit because I don’t know very many bloggers, so if I’m tagging you after someone else already has… just deal with it! It doesn’t mean you have to do the damn thing twice. It just means you’re extra-loved.)

Emmett, my partner, for honestly putting up with me.

Kyle, my boyfriend, for honestly teaching me about myself.

Ashleybird for honestly being one of the sweetest and funniest girls on Twitter.

Scarlet the Femme Fagette for honestly introducing me to new gender ideas.

Mollena the Perverted Negress for honestly being unashamedly true to herself.

Niki, one of my oldest friends and Strawbry Kiwi blogger, for honestly being one of the few people with whom I can be completely myself without judgment.

Arron of X-Ray Introductions for honestly being a VERY cool guy to hang with and for getting me into reviewing!

Nadia the Kinky Librarian for honestly bringing the brains into kink and being damn sexy whilst doing it.

Saintchick for honestly being one of my Twitter gurls and someone who helps keep me in touch with my femme side.

Ang the Sweltering Celt for honestly being an amazingly supportive friend and for making me feel understood about being poly.

(Whew! I managed it!)

Finally, list ten honest things about myself:

1) I barely remember what my natural hair color looks like. I know what color it is, but I’m so hooked on trying different hair colors that it hasn’t been natural for a very long time.

2) I’m really bad at coming up with quirky, unique but still honest facts about myself because every interesting insight I’ve ever had into myself goes flying out the window in situations like this.

3) I have, in the past, won awards for my poetry. (And no, that in no way means I’m ever going to post any on this blog.)

4) I absolutely despise talking on the phone. I will text ‘til my fingers are blue but if an actual verbal phone conversation is proposed, I balk like someone asked me to chop off my own right hand. There is only one exception to that rule and he knows very well who he is.

5) My toenails are always painted, but my fingernails have been naked since middle school. Originally this was because I started working with animals and there was just no point to having nice nails, but even now that I’m just working a desk job, my fingernails stay bare. I prefer the way my fingernails look unpainted. Oh, and my favorite color to paint my toenails is gold.

6) Speaking of gold… I hate yellow gold. All of my jewelry is either white gold, silver, copper, or not metal at all. And even then I so rarely wear jewelry except for the stuff worn in piercings (which is either titanium or glass).

7) I have an almost unholy interest in sharps. I love knives, swords, daggers, needle play, piercings—anything to do with very, very sharp objects. They just look and feel so gooooood.

8) I have unusually large gaps between all of my toes. Probably because I have insanely wide feet. And yes, this makes it a larger than normal pain in the ass to shop for shoes, especially cute/sexy ones. It does, however, make it VERY easy to shop for Chucks, which are the Ultimate Shoe. Currently I have more pairs of Chucks than days in the week: dark blue, embroidered green high top, lime green laceless, black and pink, pink, orange, black and red high top and Christmasy candy-striped.

9) Why yes, I DO have a very stream-of-consciousness type of mind that leads me on all sorts of interesting side tracks and yes, it does come out in my writing!

10) (This last fact is always the hardest.) My favorite color in general is green, but my favorite color (or shade, technically) to wear is black. I feel sexiest in all black and if I could I’d wear all black, all the time. The only reason I haven’t done so yet is because I haven’t amassed enough black clothing to get rid of everything else. Someday.

Microfantasy Monday - Hands

Thanks to Ang the Sweltering Celt as always for the weekly themes! (And sorry, yes, I'm late. Ten lashes for the bad blogger.)

I know exactly where I like hands to be on me. Taking a firm grip on the back of my neck, a few fingers through my hair, a palm gliding up my leg, seeking fingertips thrumming in deliciously sensitive areas… yeah, I know where I like to be touched.

Other people’s spots, though, are usually more of a mystery—a delightfully tricky riddle to be solved. A meandering finger around the rim of an ear perhaps, or even a casual drape of the palm over a knee. Or, I was pleasantly surprised to discover, a gentle, unconsciously placed hand on the small of the back, sending the mind to a screeching halt and decadent shivers down the spine. Yeah, he knows where he likes to be touched.

And now, so do I.

Microfantasy Monday - Exhibitionism

Thanks as always to Ang over at Sweltering Celt for the MFM inspiration!

The sun shone merrily down on the group of people mingling among the clusters of brilliant flowers and verdant foliage, causing many to squint or use hands to shade eyes as they meandered their way through the garden party.

She had come prepared, settling her favorite pair of cat-eyed, tortoiseshell sunglasses on her nose before recrossing her ankles below the flowing hem of her silky skirt. Dispassionately she scanned the crowd before her eyes settled on just one, the only other one apart, slouching casually in faded jeans and a blazer under the shade of a mulberry tree. The corner of her mouth quirked minutely as she realized he was watching her. A single eyebrow arched above the rim of her sunglasses, widening his smirk to a full smile, one that hinted at mischief. As she watched him, his head cocked slightly to the left, his eyes flicking quickly in the same direction—behind the garden shed. An indication. Come with me.

Teasingly she pursed her lips, as though to give a moment of thought to the unspoken invitation. Then, slowly, she rose, brushing out her skirt and slinging her purse over one shoulder casually—just a woman heading to the ladies’ room, or to get another of the mimosas offered at the buffet table. Unhurried, she made her way to the shed just to the far side of the mulberry tree, her face not turning toward the loiterer under its leaves but the upturn of her lips as she passed giving all the answer that was needed. Nonchalant, he pushed himself off the trunk of the tree and followed her.

A muffled thump as her purse hit the ground. A much more audible thump as her back hit the side of the shed. Heads turned. Eyebrows raised. Voices murmured. But behind the shed, that shady, cool, damp patch of grass had transformed into its own universe.

All else be damned.

The New Man in Town

So if you’ve made it over to my little shadowed, cobwebbed corner of the Internet, likely you found it through the blog of another. Specifically, the blog of my new boyfriend, Kyle.

Yeah, I had to stop and read that again myself. Wow.

I mean… this is something I never expected would happen. I’m generally not one for online relationships, although to be fair the real meat of our relationship (versus our flirting) happened after we met in person, in Portland. Remember that series of posts? Oh yeah. That was the turning point.

So, most of you know Kyle on Twitter as the swaggering, wickedly grinning ladies’ man, complete with harem. And yeah, I gotta say that cocky confidence is what drew me in at first. But then I got to know the guy and he is so, so much more than that. And we have more in common than I have ever had with any other person, from life philosophy to favorite flower and drink of choice. And despite the attitude, when the situation calls for it Kyle is amazingly supportive and understanding—really a guy to have in your corner.

Of course, things aren’t always peaches and cream. We’re both polyamorous and both of us have other relationships, which always throws a few wrenches into the gears especially at first, before things get settled into an agreeable dynamic for all involved. But he’s worth the struggle; the love I have in me for him is worth all of it.

I don’t know what I did in this life or in past lives to deserve all this love, but between the love I have received from Emmett these past two-plus years and the newfound love of this tenacious-yet-tender cowboy… well, it promises to never be a dull ride. And roller coaster freak that I am, I am more than ready to get started.

Differentiation

At what point does flying become falling?

HNT: Inadvertent Marks

Oh look, I finally have an HNT pic to contribute! Legs seems to be a bit of an unofficial theme for this one, and coincidentally I happened to get this mark on my leg from my laptop - although it does look a little like the marks from someone's belt!



Click through to see the far end of my leg... and who makes an excellent footrest.

Ready

Is this how a skydiver feels, suited up and strapped with parachutes, poised on the edge of the open hatch, feeling the wind rush by as she waits for the okay to jump?

Please, please, tell me to jump. To fly.

I’ve never skydived (yet) but this is how I feel: poised on the edge of new and greater things, ready to jump in and test out the waters. Rarely do I dip my toe before just diving in. The real excitement lies in the danger of the unknown—exploring the depths with little other barriers than quick wits and quick reflexes, not knowing what hides beyond the next rise. The real excitement lies in testing how long I can hold my breath before my vision darkens and my ears ring.

The real excitement lies in not knowing fully what’s going to happen next, but being ready for it anyway.

I am ready.