what? no boxers?

It's been damn fun being kidless for the summer. Christie's gone back home till mid-August, so Andy and I are free to do whatever we want, when we want and however we want. Let's just say it spices things up a bit and makes us that much more adventurous.

IF adventurous means going sans underwear, then Andy was indeed adventurous today. The real adventure lay in the fact that as we were standing on the balcony kissing, he decided to finally share with me the fact that he had no underwear on. Well, that immediately piqued my curiosity. I wanted to know what it felt like, did he like it, did he hate it? And could I tell the difference by looking, feeling?

I just so happened to rub up against him and that's when the real fun began. I know boxers are made of just about the thinnest material known to man and offer no resistance/ support whatsoever to the goods, but I swear I could feel a difference without them. Things were perking up at my slightest touch. Very nice!

We thought it best to take the party inside. I took a spot in my favorite livingroom chair. Andy walked over to me, stopped and stood in front of me, waiting. I must say it was about 20x sexier to peel his pants off and find him stark naked underneath. Hello! I. Like. That.

Delicious sex ensued. We swapped sexual favors on various pieces of furniture and ended up on the floor, close and satisfied. The livingroom is fun. Maybe we'll do it in the livingroom all summer long. That way when the kid comes back, the bedroom will be fresh and exciting again. Of course there are those mirrored closet doors on the way to our ensuite...that could also be very adventurous.

climbing right on

Whew! Being kidless for the summer is fun. And I've been relishing this self-imposed challenge to indulge Andy's every-third-minute thought with frivolous abandon!

The other night we tried out a new whiskey at a bar in Silverlake. It was tasty, but it almost put us flat on our asses before we'd even finished one glass. It was a gorgeous warm SoCal night. We wandered (stumbled) down a section of Sunset Blvd as we left the bar, finding cool hidden spots where we could grab a feel and basically kiss like a couple of teenagers. He has very yummy kisses, still.

When the booze wore off enough Andy drove us home safely. Still riding on a faint buzz I wanted to have my way with him before total sobriety hit. When I came out of the bedroom/bathroom after freshening up he was lying on the couch. I nonchalantly got naked and climbed right onto his mouth, backwards, as my own mouth went for his dick. For some reason this was way more comfortable on the couch than it ever is in the bed. I was loving it just fine...............

It didn't take long for me. At all. Combination of the booze, the freedom to be wild, the 10-day dry spell and his skilled mouth...well, that's all I needed! After my glorious moment I rode him to high heaven and brought him to his own buckin' bronco moment.

Nice to be back in the saddle...yee-ha!

every 3 minutes?

Andy deserves a medal for putting up with me over the last few months. Between my juggling a full-time job, a teenage daughter who usually takes priority over my time and an extremely busy visit from my other daughter last week...oh yeah, AND the bitchy/blue phase that followed after both daughters left me for the summer...yeah, he deserves several medals. Seriously, he's such a good sport and never gets mad even when I'm running around like a crazywoman.

It was a few days after the girls left before Dinamo returned in full force, but Andy and I finally had sex after about a 10 day hiatus. It was mostly an urgent 'unloading' as there's seldom time for romance with that kind of build-up! Nevertheless, it was nice to get back in the groove. The next morning I woke up early and Andy was already in the livingroom sketching and painting like there was no tomorrow. 

He was bouncing around, oozing happiness, and I couldn't help but ask if I had 'inspired' him with our lovemaking last night. He said Hell yeah! It sure is nice to clear the mind of sex. It leaves more room for creativity.

His remark sort of perplexed me. I said Really? I paused a few moments, then asked Like how often do you actually think about sex?


Now, guys, this probably comes as no surprise to you, but honestly, I never thought a 50-year old guy would say...about every 3 minutes. Ladies, is this surprising to you? No shit!

I must admit, once it sank in, I was kind of turned on by the fact that sex is so top of mind for my guy. Which pretty much means I can have it anytime I want it. Cool...I just may take that as a challenge. We have the summer to ourselves. Might as well make it HOT.

ouch

I thought I'd achieved a little peace, then May came. I've spent most of the month feeling like crap. Between Christie and myself, I feel like I've spent an enormous amount of time just dealing with medical issues.

It started the day after I had my big verbal release with Andy. I noticed a sore spot on the outside of my throat. It felt like a bad bruise on the right side of my neck near my Adam's apple. Flu-like symptoms followed--ear aches, sore neck muscles, achy shoulders, headache. I had barely enough energy to get me past dinner. Bedtime was the thing I most looked forward to every day. It was depressing.

After multiple doctor visits, blood tests and an ultrasound on my thyroid, the doctor said I was anemic. Plus I have nodules on my thyroid (which may have been there a long time) and have some antibodies against my thyroid (WTF?). My theory about the thyroid flare-up is that it was a byproduct of finally expressing my feelings to Andy. In holistic medicine, issues of the throat reflect problems with communication and the right side is symbolic of male energy. Communication with the man in my life has certainly been a challenge for me!

In the last week the pain in my thyroid has just about disappeared. All I've been doing is taking Advil which I was doing all along. I also take an iron pill a day for the anemia. I do have my energy back for the most part. The doctor was not overly concerned about any of the test results. She wants a 3 month follow up.

In the meantime I continue to be plagued with random issues which would be almost comical if listed. It's weird though. As often as I feel under the weather, I rarely get sick. I don't know what's worse. Maybe it would be better to get a full-blown sickness and get it over with...?

This year I really feel my age. And I hate saying that because I do so many things to keep myself healthy. I don't look old, but my body seems to be rebelling. All I can really blame my health challenges on is the stress I've been under in the past year. I hope I can kick this once and for all. I feel like I've been paying way more than my share of dues. I want to get back on top where I belong.

getting the groove back - with a friend

The decision to volunteer should have been a no-brainer. During previous low points in my life I found that giving of myself was the key to feeling good again. Why do I forget these things? I suspect I'd save a lot of time and misery if my memory was better.

I was in dire need of someone to lean on. I'd been trying hard not to unload too much of my own worries on Andy for fear he'd freak out. I felt he was at his limit for my frustration and if I told him how I honestly felt, he'd dive into a perpetual state of worry. But I just had to vent to someone, confess all my ugly thoughts and fears.

This is where Carly came in. I actually met Carly at Andy's ex-wife's birthday party a few months ago. Carly is friends with both Andy and his ex-wife. I should mention there's no animosity whatsoever between the ex-wife and me. In fact I like her, but not enough to confide in her. Carly, on the other hand, extended herself to me right from the start. She was sweeter than sweet, and we both have a deep interest in spiritual things and the metaphysical.

So I called on Carly to be my friend. We met out at a restaurant on a Saturday afternoon. She had a salad. I had zucchini bread, a coffee and the pep talk that I desperately needed. I told her how dismal my outlook had become, and how I feared I'd have to move back east if I didn't get a job by May. I also shared with her that I couldn't complain any more to Andy because he just couldn't handle it.

Carly let me blather on, but it didn't take long. Just saying it out loud once was a big relief. She was so empathetic and responsive. Her concern for me was genuine. She didn't try to wash it over with an "oh, everything's going to be fine". Instead she gave me inspiration to simply ask the higher powers to show me opportunities and to give me everything I need to recognize them, go after them, and achieve them. Her enthusiasm and belief were contagious. I became as animated and excited as she was about what was about to happen for me.

She might as well have dropped some magic powder in my coffee, but that visit with Carly was like a drug. She was definitely God-sent. And I was grateful for her understanding, her guidance and her inspiration. I left there feeling like a million bucks. But looking back, that was only the beginning!

to be continued...

s.o.s.

Some days I feel really close to waving the white flag. Los Angeles, I give up. You win. I'll tuck my tail between my legs and go back to where I came from.

Insecurity sucks. Using my nest egg just to meet the bills is not what I planned. Having corporate LA reject me because I "just moved here and am at risk of moving back" means I have to remain unemployed for a year or longer before I get a job?? And then what...? "You've been unemployed for too long, sorry."

I'm not usually a negative person. But honestly, I've never had to work so hard to be accepted, to get what I want or need. I wonder, when will this end and what will it have cost? My pride and my confidence have taken just as big a hit as my bank account. I'm not sure how much more I can take.

Andy reassures me daily that everything will work out...that it just takes time. He also tells me about 5 times a day that I am beautiful and how happy he is that I am here. I appreciate his love and support, but why don't his words make me feel better?

Although I can usually hold it together for appearance's sake, inside I am crying. However, I do have an escape. One of my secret comforts is imagining myself in Rob's arms while he runs his fingers through my hair for hours. Another source of comfort is sifting through old Gmail exchanges with Cam. That's where I found this tidbit, another one of my cries for help for a different crisis in my life:

I need your help. What I really want is for you to be here right now, so I can shamelessly unload on you, have you tell me everything's going to be all right, and completely believe you. God, I miss you.

His words held such power for me. It's as if I could hang my troubles like a sopping wet coat on his almighty hook and just walk away feeling light and free. He'd come back with this:

I will say that it’s only through confusion that clarity can happen. Sometimes when we’re in the middle of a mess the only thing we can do is get through it. Sometimes things don’t make sense, like there’s no big picture to see. Embrace the mystery and don’t think there is an answer. See what happens.

I love you with all my heart,
cam

I wonder what he'd say now and if it would bring me the same peace as it used to. I may never know, because I won't contact him. I do sometimes reach to Rob for emotional support although I try not to. But still I feel both Cam's and Rob's love even when they're not actively giving it. And that is definitely worth something. For some reason, I still need it.

sex perfection

One of the things I love about long term relationships is the evolution of the sex. Not until you're with someone day after day, and possibly night after night, do you have the chance to have sex often enough that you can experiment with its nuances in the hopes of reaching perfection.

Andy and I are getting to the point where we are trying variations on a few of our favorite sexual routines (please note that the word routine does not imply boring in any shape or form). We now exchange orgasms more often per week than we eat meat. Talk about healthy living!

It usually starts like this:

Somebody grabs the other one's crotch in the kitchen/walking by/while getting dressed. Lots of kissing and groping. Work our way into the bedroom assuming we're not already there/if the kid's home. Andy lays me down on the bed and more kissing and groping, this time underneath the clothes. Clothes are peeled off. Skin touches...ahhhh. Under the covers (it's still winter).

And then...

The sucking starts. One of us goes down on the other. This almost always (lately) turns into 69 with him on top. And I think it's kind of rare for the guy to be on top because when I tried to google images of 69 with man on top, there were none to be found. Love it! I am indeed a lucky girl.

Andy works his magic on me in a rather expert way, with several months' practice behind him. Let's say he knows his way around the plumbing. And it's all the hotter for me because while he is pleasuring me I am totally pinned down, with his c*** f****ing my f***.

My mind immediately drifts to a recurring fantasy of an office scenario where he's my boss, and before I can go home for the day I have to get him off while he eats me on top of his desk. I can just see it--heels and all. Actually heels and nothing. It's all very dirty and dutiful, but I am good at my job. He pays me well and rewards me with bonuses. Plain and simple, I love serving him.

So yeah, this fantasy gives me good Os on a regular basis. He coaxes it out of me like a slippery, sweet prize. I feel its approach from a warm glow to a raging heat, then it kind of buzzes its way through me. It's a very pleasant buzz, mind you, but I think it could be better. I'm looking for the big KA-POW! Maybe it has to do with the upside-down position. So today I've asked him to experiment with his technique once I reach the peak. And he'll know when that is.

Andy was glad I asked. He doesn't mind trying new things or 'having' to do things over and over again. I'm not sure I've ever met a guy who liked pussy so much. Like I said, I'm a very lucky woman. In fact, we could both use more practice to achieve perfection. I'm looking forward to it. Counting the hours, actually.

field of latent dreams

Apres sex last night we lay in bed just floating along on the waning tide of endorphins. Andy's on his back. I took my customary favorite spot lying on my left side, head resting in the crook of his armpit/chest, my right leg resting over his. My right hand can't help but feel his balls and wander through the soft jungle where all the wild things are.

We're silent for the most part till his sounds let me know I hit a spot that apparently feels really good. Sooo relaxing this ritual...as much for me as it is for him. I swear I was a man in past lives. Probably more often than I was a woman. I know this by how natural it is for me to handle the male equipment. I feel like it is genuinely mine. I feel the pleasure that he does when I caress all that good stuff down there.

Andy gets very creative after sex with me, and during, so he says. I like to prolong his pleasure and his creativity with all this touching, which I can easily do for half an hour or longer. Sometimes, like he did last night, he shares his creative thoughts.

Last night he said we were lying in an open field. The grass was mostly green with a little yellow, but it was soft, and long, gently bent over into soft mounds. The sun was shining on our naked bodies. No one could see us so we could just lie there together and love the moment.

As he told me of his vision the tone of his voice changed. He was totally tuned into me, and being with me. I had the sense that his heart was wide open. It felt so noticeable, different and intimate. I am not used to feeling that energy from him. It hit me like lightning. And I suddenly realized I couldn't share that openness. My heart understood his, but I wouldn't let it feel the same depth of love. And it made me very sad.

This was a familiar mix of feelings. I well remember the ecstasy of sacred sex (with Rob and with Cam), like actually feeling our two souls uniting, with sex as the facilitator. It is Godly. And I remember when I let my fear block those feelings, like I am doing now. It's the fear that it's not safe to love that deeply--not yet, not right now. How sad that Andy finally gave me this kind of love and I secretly rejected it.

I didn't want to ruin his beautiful moment, so I kept my thoughts to myself. I am not ready to open my heart to him that way when I am not sure that I can stay. There are too many circumstances seemingly out of my control that may lead me away from him. If I have to go back east, he can't come with me. Until I know that things are going to work out for me here, I feel like I have to protect my heart, and his.

Though I must admit, it felt good to know that I could have that depth of love again. Maybe this is a sign of the beginning of good things to come. It sure would be nice to get back to the dream.

my apologies!

Photo by Vancouver Photographer Jason Pfeifer

I have absent from blogging for so long. Not because I was pregnant--thank God I was not--but because I was depressed. Of course, first I was elated because the preg test was negative. But both before and after that I have been battling the blues. This is a typical symptom of peri-menopause so I am told. The hot flashes persist. I'm trying not to go on anti-depressants.

So, yeah, there are hormonal issues. But they only add to my situational issues. As the year comes to a close I am feeling a bit defeated, or at the very least, deflated. My dream was a driving force and inspiration in my life over the last 18 months. Something I planned so carefully for, sacrificed plenty for, has fallen short of my expectations. It feels very unbalanced. I mean, there are people who I hurt by leaving. I feel I should have much more to show for their sacrifice (and mine) than I do now.

Despite lots of effort, I have no job yet, no income. I miss my family and friends a ton, maybe I always will. My relationship with Andy is growing, but as yet I am not convinced he has what it takes to be my life partner. In the meantime I will be patient and enjoy all the laughter he brings to my life.

I'm not giving up hope for life in Los Angeles yet. There's still time to make it happen. The tides have got to turn soon. I've been too lucky in life up to this point to have God bail on me now.

the spice of life

Sex has been so deliciously steamy lately. I think I've finally got my man where I want him--amorous, attentive and patient enough to savor the entire experience as it was meant to be. Variety is sweet and there's so much more to lovemaking than fucking! We're on our way to sacred sex. I feel it coming...pun intended.

He's totally fascinated with the grab bag of sexy things we do and seems more intent on playing with all the toys than firing his gun as fast as he can. What used to take 20 mins is now about an hour of bliss. And I can tell that delaying the big O is rewarding for him by the sounds he makes when he finally lets go. Music to my ears!

One of the things I am happiest about is the foundation we seem to be building through our lovemaking. Whereas there used to be times when I sensed he was driven only by lust and animalistic urges, now his actions seem to stem from a deeper love for me. I feel like he wants to know me and love me more so than ever before. Although I had expressed my concerns (about feeling loved during sex) earlier, I think that time has been the biggest factor in the change. It probably took him awhile to believe that I was really here, living with him, and he didn't have to rush through sex because I'd be leaving soon. Silly boy.

Yeah, so in all this sex play over the last couple weeks we've kind of been passing on the condoms. They are so very inconvenient when you're changing gears every few minutes. There's nothing worse than the taste of a lubricated condom. Plus the feeling of skin sliding right against skin is sooooo delicious. I love when there's nothing between us.

We know better, but admittedly we've been blowing it off, letting ourselves get lost in the moment. Well, we have been somewhat careful by not having him cum in me. But needless to say, my fingers are crossed that we don't have an accident. I feel like a teenager again, anxiously awaiting my period that is 3 days late...and counting. Chances are I'm not so fertile anymore, but I've sure increased the odds by numbers alone.

love nest

It's gotten really warm and cozy in our little love nest. I have proven to myself once again that an open heart = better love. Duh.

It happened on the living room floor. We had just smudged the apartment together that morning, having agreed that we needed to get rid of all the bad energy that had somehow accumulated over the last couple months. After the sage smoke cleared, we thanked each other, hugged and felt instantly drawn to each other once again.

By the afternoon it was too big to resist. Our passion, that is. He grabbed me from behind and unzipped my jeans, pulling them down just low enough to expose my butt. He turned me around, hands firmly planted on my butt and pulled me in for a very wet kiss as our equally hungry mouths met. I noticed how good he always smells...his breath, just the skin on his face. I get lost in him.

Still locked in a kiss we worked ourselves down to the floor. He stripped me naked from the waist down and dove in to tend to my fire with his hot mouth. Every time he goes down on me it gets better and better. It's so fun to learn each other sexually, to find exactly what makes each other go over the edge, or better yet, keep them dangling precariously on the edge until you decide to push them into a lusty freefall.

It was a crazy hot love session. My orgasm was quite loud. Good thing we had shut the windows after clearing the apartment. After I came we did some serious fucking which was followed by his 2 consecutive, yes 2, orgasms--one all over my stomach and the second one more strategically placed less than a minute later. All I could say was wow. I'd never seen him do that before, and it was way cool!

I am starting to enjoy the never ending surprises in this place. Except for the rug burn on my back, but it was so worth it.

rememoried

Lately there have been days when I've found it hard to identify the source of my unhappiness. Is it lack of a job? A dwindling bank account? Feeling homesick? Cabin fever? Disappointing relationship? Fear of failure?

Deep down I knew that all these factors were only temporary. But I had one nagging concern about my relationship with Andy. I was afraid that we just didn't have the potential to reach the big future we had dreamed of. Either I'd been totally unrealistic about our love, or his habits had gotten the best of me or I was just completely flat from the stress of the last 4 months.

Then something saved me. I stood back from everything and remembered a nugget of wisdom from my history. Instead of looking at my partner or the situation around me to pin the blame on, I looked inside myself. What part was I playing in the perceived demise of our relationship?

I suddenly remembered a discovery from my past: the magnitude of love I felt coming from my partner was dependent on and equal to the degree to which I opened my heart to it. I needed to allow the love to come in to me, and to receive it willingly. As best as I could recall, I'd never been let down by this practice. In the case of Rob especially, his love reflected mine. The more I opened my heart to him, the more love and intensity I felt coming from him. He even used to say that he purposely reflected me. He'd adapt to my level of love--when we were very close and our relationship was moving forward he gave me all his love and emotion. But when we were more reserved in our relationship (like when I was dating someone else) he held back as I did, we each preserved and protected ourselves from possible hurt, but the emotion was stifled too. As a result the love and sex were not quite as fulfilling.

This made me realize that I had been blocking Andy's love. Through denial or deflecting, I'm not sure, but it brought up some great questions to ask myself. Like WHY!? And here's how my mind responded...

• Trying to find myself again and reclaim my identity meant pushing Andy away to see who I was without him. I'm so fiercely independent and need to know I can do something completely on my own that I deny his attempts at help.
• I was angry at Andy for not fully appreciating everything I did to get here, how much work and expense I have endured, and all that I left behind.
• I was angry at myself for not handling the adjustment better/stronger/faster. Therefore I did not deserve to have his love. How could he love me when I felt like such a loser?
• I compared his love to Rob's and decided he just wouldn't measure up. He couldn't help solve my problems or guide me with the wisdom that Rob still continued to do. He wasn't the gentle lover that I longed for, who gave me endless comfort. He didn't know me inside out, and didn't seem to want to know much about my world, so how could he ever love me enough? So I blocked the love he did try to give me.

All this nonsense aside, I did something that made all the difference and instantly changed my outlook on the future of our relationship. While Andy was out one night I reread my blog posts about him.

I read about the day we met again after 29 years when he read his book to me next to the lake while we polished off a bottle of wine. I read about the accidental phone sex that catapulted us into an official relationship. I read about my fantasy trip to Santorini with him where we began the next chapter of our lives. I read about the moment I knew that Andy could fulfill the family dreams I'd always had. And finally, how he said if you jump, I will catch you.

It was all I needed to bring back reasons to let his love in. And with that realization everything was different moving forward.

When he came home late that night and climbed into bed with me, I cradled my warm body next to his. I tucked my knees in to fit against the back of his legs, wrapped my arm around the front of him resting my hand on his chest, pulled myself closer to him and laid my face on his back where I could hear his heartbeat. The sounds of a contented love escaped through his breath. My reward.

All was well in my world again. I only wish I had remembered sooner.

WANTED: Joy (Part I)

It’s peculiar how you can forget what really makes you happy. You’d think that you’d always remember these things, sort of like riding a bike. If you’ve done it and lived it, it should be part of you forever, no?

Here I sit in LA land (aka LALA land), where all my dreams pointed to for the last 2 years. I moved mountains to uproot my life and relocate here. My heart and the promise of fulfilling my highest aspirations fuelled me through the challenges of coordinating a massive move for both my daughter and myself, including selling our house, leaving family and friends and shipping our possessions.

I moved in with my love Andy, my daughter is thriving at her new school, the weather is to die for and I’ve had all summer to play and discover my new world. Sounds awesome. Then why has Dinamo lost her passion for living and loving? Basically I feel like I’m on the edge of flatlining.

#1 reason: I need to work. I need to get an actual job, not just spend hours a day looking for one. Between perfecting my resume and cover letters to be my most fabulous self on paper, browsing career websites, applying for jobs and reading the masses of industry articles I’ve subscribed to in order to stay current, I literally spend about 5-6 hrs a day online. I now hate my computer…and the whole process of looking for work. Especially when you find out through CareerBuilder’s ‘fantastic’ little feature outlining the competition that 279 other people also applied for the same job that you did.

#2 reason: I feel alone. Andy is sweet, but he can’t provide me with a lot of what I need. A girl needs her own circle of friends to hang with and talk to. I love looking at his face, but it is now burned in my retina. Variety please!! Andy and I don’t have the depth in our relationship that I want and need. He rarely asks me questions about what I like, what I feel, what I dream…sometimes feels like he’s just not that into me, but how do I dare say that when I know he adores me? I also feel like I have to solve all my problems myself. He helps me the very best he can, but he doesn’t have experience dealing with pressures and complex issues. So I’m either on my own, or I call Rob for help which luckily he is still willing to give.

#3 reason: I’ve lost touch with my spirituality. The fact that I’ve been in mere survival mode over the last couple months means I have pushed aside my relationship with the higher power. I am in such unfamiliar territory, physically, emotionally and mentally. This is where I should find the greatest use of my faith, yet I overlook it. My mother and Rob both have strong spiritual leanings and they remind me of its power in their own gentle ways. Maybe I need to be beat over the head with it. Or hit rock bottom (oh, please no).

Rob sent me Deepak Chopra’s Book of Secrets last week. I am more than half way through it already. The timing was right for me and it’s reminded me that I need to get back to seeking my joy on a daily basis. I def have not been doing that. When I am feeling like shit, how can I attract the job of my dreams? As long as there is no vibrational match, my job and I will not meet. I have to get in the right state of mind for it to come. And I do believe that. In the past I've been able to get there. Why is it so hard now?

Because I can't find my joy.

fading

Tonight I was being curious and mischievous by delving back into a past love life. I dug up some of my 'starred' gmail chats with Cam from 2006. These are the treasures of love that will live forever in the archives of my old gmail account...the one we used for keeping our channel of communication open for hours as we worked at our desks thousands of miles away. Of course this was pre-Skype. Hopefully these precious records of our gmail chats will live forever as does the love for a soulmate. And Cam was mine.

To add the context surrounding this chat, these messages were written in the months following our 4 day reunion--the only 4 days we spent together. Although we both wanted to preserve the intensity of those days, we had both added new relationships to our lives and were trying to adjust to that. But our love lived on for quite a while. Just for the record, I've had no communication with Cam in about 3 years now, since he turned down my invitation to move to my town/country and make a go of it.

Dinamo wrote:
What do I mean when I say I'm scared of you fading? I'm scared of losing my memory of you and our 4 days together, the intensity of it, the specifics of it, like how my heart jumped when I caught you looking at me, what it was like to cuddle up next to you on that plump couch in the spa, to sweat with you in the hot springs, to smell your skin in soft dark places, to be driven through the ceiling by your fingers, the taste of your tears, the pride I felt watching you when we were out, to wake up to you and to be awakened by your touch, your million dollar smile, your sneeze, the way you opened doors for me and wanted to pay for everything, the bliss of the silence between us, the bump on your forearm, the anticipation of all the "firsts" we experienced, wearing your shirt and tucking notes in secret places to surprise you, laughing at your stories, feeling certain songs together, holding your hand and you liking it, feeling your passion as your mouth found its love, the little things you noticed like it was our first time driving in a car together, the way I knew how important I was to you, and knowing that no one's love could ever surpass ours, gazing while we ate drank and made love, learning about you and all you've done, the sex feast, your eyes, the sounds you made, the words of love you spoke. I want to keep all of it, I want to give to you better than anyone else can, I want it to remain sacred and untouchable. I love you. D

Cam's Reply:
That's it... Sacred. That makes me cry.

That's what I want, sacredness between us. That's what I experienced and what I think we are just scratching the surface of. Thank you for this idea and what you wrote. I am overwhelmed with you in this moment.
love, c

And why did I post this, you ask? There is a part of me that is searching for the depth in a relationship that I so crave. Andy and I don't have it yet and I miss it. I am willing to wait until it grows for us, but in the meantime I am trying to make it tangible in my life somehow. It makes me feel good to remember how special I was to someone, and how we could express our deepest feelings to each other. That's what seemed to feed the relationship for the longest time.

finding my voice

I suppose as I look back on these days a year from now, it'll all be a blur. Kind of like a dream that floats from fantasy to nightmare and back and forth again. Visions of palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze give way to the incessant shrill of sirens and racing engines outside our bedroom window. It's sensory overload.

I made a conscious choice to seek a new kind of life that would challenge me to reach the next level--for my career, my social life, my love life. At the center of that new life is a man who is charming, brilliantly creative and totally in love with me. But also included in the package is a quirky artist who's pretty high strung sometimes, likes a lot of attention and has just a touch of an ego. OK, it's more than a touch, but it's not bad....really.

Andy likes to talk. He spends a lot of time talking...to me, to friends, basically anyone he can. It's another outlet for his creative energy I guess. I don't have that need. I usually prefer writing my thoughts and feelings over talking, unless, of course, I am coaxed with a beverage, or if someone shows great interest in what I have to say. Also I tend to clam up when things are bothering me, and as you know, things have been bothering me. Rob was great for drawing out all sorts of stuff from me, but Andy hasn't discovered the value in that yet. He's still learning me.

My point in all this chatter is that Andy's habit of talking a lot mixed with my tendency to be somewhat quiet, plus the anxiety I've felt trying to find my own identity here has led to me kind of lose my voice.

One day last week Andy and I had coffee with a friend of his I hadn't yet met. Wow, was I in for a treat. This woman, instead of talking about herself (which many people out here seem to do), asked question upon question of me! I suddenly rose to the occasion and enjoyed a real conversation with her. Like a long lost friend I heard my own voice speaking again. I did more talking in that hour than in all the time I've been out here.

And the best part of it all was that it made me feel good again. I felt real. I felt validated. It kind of bothers me that it took that conversation to realize what had gone wrong with me. But I didn't dwell on that. I tucked it in my pocket and took it with me for next time.

Last night after some sex play with Andy I voiced my opinion on something that normally I would have kept to myself. He responded perfectly. I can see that this new thing called communicating through spoken words is working, so I'm going to keep building on it.

It feels like I'm a long way from reaching the next level in my career, my social life and my love life. But if I find ways to reclaim my identity I think the power that comes from that will propel me to where I want to be even faster.

dark sex

I am a strong believer that you need to feel good about what you do. This applies to everything from how you earn a living, to what you eat, to killing a spider. If you repeatedly do some action that just doesn't sit right with you, there will be repercussions.

I have been following this philosophy for quite some time. I had settled into a routine life back in my small northeast town and therefore had the ability to assess everything new that tried to make its way into my world.

Since moving to Los Angeles, everything is turned upside down. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration. But for a woman who can get quite comfortable (bored yes, but comfortable) with routine, it sure seems like this is an extreme change to the life I knew! My point is that I am bordering on overstimulation in my new surroundings and have kind of lost my equilibrium, or sense of what's best for me. In this new, somewhat precarious position I now call life, I was not careful about what I let enter my world.

Here's Andy, my sweet, adoring boyfriend that I finally get to live with! As lighthearted, fun and talented as he is, the man has an affinity for some hardcore activities in the bedroom. I'm no prude myself, and honestly I found this aspect of our love life very attractive after having a very gentle, but passive boyfriend. Granted, Rob was an extraordinary lover, but it was unnatural for a guy with his loving nature to get down and dirty. Andy does not have that problem. In fact, he took me some places (sexually speaking) that really did it for me. And I wanted more of that.

So now we are living together and we are basically having sex as often as we like. Which is a lot. But there have been some instances where I found myself feeling bad after sex. Kind of defiled. The first couple times I didn't say anything. But finally I spoke up and told him that during those certain acts I can't feel his love for me. I don't mind being filthy dirty, but I need to sense his underlying love and care for me while he's holding my head in place, shoving his cock down my throat. I mean I hope he realizes in those moments that I need to breathe. What scared me about it most was that he might actually be getting off on the fact that he was hurting me, because I sensed that at the time. But when I told him that he had pushed me beyond my limit and that that was too dark for me, he apologized, and he's been much more considerate since.

There have been some other things he has done that I've felt not mentally ready for, but because they were pretty stimulating physically I let him continue. But later I was left feeling unsettled. I find myself in unchartered sexual territory with Andy, which is kind of surprising based on my experience.

I believe that the negative feelings I've had about some of our sexcapades led to trouble last week. Without getting into detail, I came down with a condition that not only halted our sex life for a couple weeks, but could change the way we relate to each other forever. It has not been fun and it is more than I am ready to deal with so early in our life together. I hope it doesn't damage our bond which is really only in its infancy. I think it will all depend on how we react and respond to each other from here on in.

Life has been kind of hard lately. I trust it will get better.

finding dinamo

I feel like I've been AWOL. I've been placed in a foreign land (by my own choosing, I know, I know). Most of what felt like me has been left behind and I am faced with the task of reinventing my life in this new world.

I have good days and bad days. They usually alternate. This is different for me--I don't recall having so many days where I felt unsure of myself, sad, even isolated. But I am patient with myself as I kind of predicted that this could happen. Big transitions take time. It's like I am swimming, treading water, meanwhile reminding myself how beautiful the scenery is. I ordered this. For sure it is work, taking my energy and focus, yet I turn my attention to the positives on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis.

Although I am getting used to a lot of my surroundings, most of the time I still feel like an outsider. Will I ever feel like an Angeleno?

One little discovery which I now celebrate on a regular basis is the art of finding myself through drinking. Andy took me to a hipster bar he really likes and it turns out I like it too. Their whiskey pour is extremely generous...to the point where I cannot finish the whole glass and walk out of there. But I also feel like I fit there. It's dark and full of billowy fabrics and leather couches and the music is pretty eclectic and not blaring. It promotes conversation unlike most bars I've been in.

When I drink I start to feel alive again. I feel like it's safe to come out. The protective walls that I have built up around me are no longer needed. I feel sharper, prettier, more confident and basically, like I am frigging enjoying life like I am supposed to. There's a surge inside of me that reassures me YES, I CAN DO THIS. HOW GREAT IS THIS??!!

So I am suddenly a million bucks. I react to Andy in a better way. Admiring him again I give myself more freely, I think more about our future together. And I remember the dream more clearly. The clouds had been darkening the dream, but the alcohol seems to bring it back to me where it can remind me why I am here and give me the strength to move forward.

I need to have more fun and less fear. If alcohol helps me do that, then I'm all for it...in reasonable amounts, of course.

who am i?

Who have I become? Well, I guess that depends on who you ask. Don't ask me though, cuz I really don't know. I have too much time on my hands, and too little purpose.

As I am a doer, I am finding myself filling my day with follow up phone calls to companies who haven't done what they said they were going to do, educating myself on how to invest in mutual funds (dry, yes, but essential), turning off lights and electronic equipment that other people have left on, and rearranging everyone's dishes in the dishwasher to achieve maximum efficiency in a load.

OMG I need to get back to work! Before my roommates kick me out!

I am trying my damnedest not to judge other people's ability to relax when there are things to be done. I am trying to remember that one of my goals in moving here was to become more laid back and spontaneous. I am certainly drinking more :) and sleeping in more. And I do have sex more often, though more would be even funner!

Basically, I've been off of work for almost 2 months. I love to work (usually). It makes me feel important, it defines me. In the absence of professional me, I've let myself sink back into the housewife and mother role--yecch--which makes me feel kind of used and unrewarded. And frustrated! Just because I can cook and clean doesn't mean I want to take on those roles full-time.

And I'm not one to speak up (to Andy). Instead I just do it till I'm exasperated, shoot off little sarcasms, then I withdraw. I know that's not a very good way to solve the problem, but right now I am finding it hard to do the right thing. I don't have full control over who I am, so the last thing I feel like tackling is a conversation about who I want to be.

i found some nature

In one of my early LA adventures, Andy & I went for a mystery drive. It was about 6pm and we thought we'd head west to watch the sunset. Living in the Valley I assumed we'd eventually reach the edge of the mountains that encompass this valley. And from there I thought chances would be good that we could park somewhere and catch a gorgeous California sunset.

I wasn't too far off re: my geography. We drove maybe 20 minutes and we reached a higher elevation. We stumbled upon what looked like a state park. We parked in the park's parking lot. (ok, that was a fun use of the word park, but I'll stop now.)

We got out and looked to see the beautiful valley behind and below us. Ahead of us were yellow and brown grassy covered hills--mighty hills. I suppose these were part of the mountains. It was picturesque in a new kind of way. This was something I had not experienced before.

As we headed down a dirt path I was immediately struck by how dry everything was. The dirt was more like dust than dirt. It hadn't seen a drop of moisture in months, or so it appeared. As we walked, we stirred up little dust clouds with our feet. I could feel the dust/dirt on my face, in my mouth and on my eyeballs. Very weird sensation.

My second impression of this place was the silence that it held. It was....beautiful. Sweet, sweet silence broken only by the song of crickets, the flutter of birds' wings, and distant voices of hikers on the next hill. I stopped on the path and watched the silence just happen. It brought tears to my eyes. I felt Rob's spirit--my early hiking partner and Nature Boy extraordinaire. He would be happy that I had found some nature again.

Andy came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed a tear as it ran down my dusty cheek. We held hands and walked further down the path, talking a little and half listening for the rustling of rattlesnakes. I was not dressed for this. I'd worn flip flops which had now turned light grey from the dust. Ewww.

At one point on the path I caught the distinct scent of licorice. I commented, but Andy couldn't smell it. I would have thought it was my imagination, but at that same spot on the way back I smelled it again. I decided that anise must be growing wild there. Very cool. I think I must have been a bloodhound in a past life. I can detect the slightest scent.

It was hot. And dry. Who would be stupid enough to embark on this hike without bottled water? Us. In our defense, we were simply looking for a sunset. Because it was so damn hot and dry, we left before the sunset made its stand. Oh well. But on this adventure we found so much more than we expected. And the 6 pack of ice cold beer we bought at BevMo on the way home wasn't bad either!

insatiable wife

One of things I was most looking forward to about living with Andy was the constant access to sex. I love sex, I crave it, I seek it, it is one of my greatest joys. Sex via Skype can make one crazy over the long term. It's great for teasing, taunting, and relieving immediate tension, but it's just not enough. Eventually we need the real thing.

I am happy to say that I now have it! Andy isn't privy to the Dinamo nickname and its origin, but he is familiar with my sexual appetite. Let's just say he is a happy man since we moved in together. I love to please him in every sexual way and I am usually the initiator, though we are both very affectionate in a physical way all day long.

One of my favorite things to do is to say something really intimate and dirty to him when he is least expecting it, like when we're walking down the street looking in shop windows or something. And then I thoroughly enjoy his reaction. Today I told him what nasty things I think about while he's going down on me. He grabbed me and made some comment about his insatiable wife.

I love those Freudian slips . It's not the first time he's referred to me as his wife. He does it every now and then. I do too, in my mind, but I catch that husband word before I speak it. I know we're not close to married yet, but the fact that these slips happen means that we feel that close and familiar with each other. That makes me warm and fuzzy. And horny.