Holy Hot Oil Batman!

Okay, every now and then I have to put things here just to remember them. This is one of those things. Jeeeeeeezus. My questions echo some of the comments on the original post. Oxygen. Heat the water. Contaminate the oil. My mind is now boggled. Officially.

No Time

It's Thursday today. Four days and I'm on a plane. Madness. I feel like I'm cutting everything close. I feel like there is too much going on. There's this crazy momentum that's spinning me around, and I'm clinging to hold on. Soon I'm going to be spun out, but the madness will keep swirling in my absence. It's strange.

Work is crazy. They were mad not to take me up on the offer to move my trip. I'm leaving two projects horribly in the lurch. Of course I feel responsible to my projects, and it's difficult to reconcile that my office is making the decision to allow things to plummet into chaos, and that it has nothing to do with me. Sometimes it's a pain to feel responsible. My co-workers keep saying that maybe this will be what it takes for them to realize my value. But I doubt it. They won't connect the two. At any rate, I am already not looking forward to what will be the situation when I return. That's a bit nuts.

The studying has hit an all time low, and I believe that I will finally pay the price. Of the three exams I am scheduled to take, I have so far only studied for one. Of course, it's the first one, so that's useful. Still, I haven't even cracked any of the material in respect to the other two. This is foolish beyond measure. Still, what's done is done and I cannot turn back the clock, and even if I could, there's really no point in suggesting I would have done things any differently. I guess I'm just going to see how it goes. I do my best work under pressure. And I've left myself five days between each exam. Enough to cram what I need to know? I guess we'll find out. But it wasn't a good plan. Typical.

Then there's the flights. Well, flight, initially. Monday. I haven't been on a plane since we all went to Madrid in October. Of course I'm not looking forward to it. It makes me feel sick to think about it. And I will do it, like I always do it, but it's just not pleasant. At least I managed to get xanax from my GP. Initially they told me I couldn't get it on the NHS, and gave me something else that did fuck all. Then I figured out what they meant was, NHS wouldn't pay for it, but I could. Ten pills ended up costing me less than an NHS perscription. Score!

I'd like to say that I'm going to have a productive weekend getting ready to leave my home for four weeks, but it's SA's 30th birthday and there are all sorts of events planned including a six hour canal boat binge-fest on Sunday. I don't know how I'm going to fit in everything I need to do. I mean, I know I will, but at the moment I don't know how. It's just going to fly past in a whirlwind and I'm going to be getting on the plane thinking of a million things I forgot.

On the plus side, all of this panic and stress has had the beneficial result of pushing me back to the gym. I've been going almost every day the past three weeks. And it's great. I do love when I go to the gym. I guess procrastination panic was just what I needed to kick my ass back into going. I've even had my mom look into signing me up at hers for a one month pass so I don't lose my momentum. So the real test will be once I get back, to see if the push lasts once the panic has subsided.

At least I'm starting to look forward a little bit to all the things I'm going to get a chance to do once I'm actually there. But we'll see how that goes. I'm sure updates will follow, but perhaps no more until I'm home.

Haywire

That's how I feel today. Nothing feels quite right. I feel as though I could burst into tears at any given moment for no apparent reason. Usually I would attribute such emotional shenanigans to my period, but that's not currently due. So it's a bit of a mystery.

Personally, I'm blaming it on stress. I have one week and then I'm off to the States for four weeks. Four whole weeks! What the fuck is that? It's something I still can't get over- the difference in 'time off' in this country and back home. It's unheard of to take off so much time. And not only that, I will come off it still with two weeks holiday to go! How's that for swank?

Still, the stress. I'm taking three exams. And I've only studied for one so far. That's probably a huge part of it. The flights. That's probably another. Leaving work in a tizzy is a third. Being gone from my 'home' for so long is another. I find that when I'm away for too long, and in particular when I'm with my parents, I feel like I lose myself. And I get depressed. Maybe I'm preemptively stressing about this fact as well. Just dealing with my parents.

And all the other stuff I need to do when I go home as well.

See, just thinking about it I'm feeling very tense and unhappy. Still, it doesn't entirely account for the emotional overspill. At the moment I'm just really feeling out of place. Like I don't belong here. Familiar things don't feel comfortable, they feel assaulting. Just this moment I sort of feel like I don't want to be here anymore.

I'm sure it's just stress.

Snippets from a Sex Party

Apparently five people is more of an informal orgy than a proper sex party, or so I have been reliably informed. No matter however, it was the first such event I have ever attended, and sex party it shall remain.

Cast of characters:
There were two men and three women.
One man knew the other man, and two of the women.
One man only knew the other man.
One woman only knew one of the men.
One woman knew one of the men and one of the women.
One woman only knew one of the women.

Objects which stand out in the evening were:
A golden corset. A purple kimono. Black opera gloves. Red rope. Wine glasses. A blindfold. Lit candles. A cage. A sturdy coffee table. Pierced nipples. A riding crop. More rope. A large bed. Chinese food. A collar.

Activities from the evening included:
- Two women with their hands pressed to the wall having their bottoms cropped at different times.
- Three women in rope harnesses, two with their arms behind their backs, one with her arms over her head and gagged by the same rope.
- One woman thoroughly roped with her arms behind her back and her legs tied bent and spread- one man between her legs, one man at her breast, one woman at another.
- One woman knelt between another's legs with her arms bound behind her while one man played with her breasts and kissed her.
- One woman on her back while one man played with her breasts and kissed her while a bound woman knelt between her legs and was fucked by another man.
- One woman on her knees alternating between sucking off two men.
- One woman sucking off one man while being fucked by another.
- One man between one woman's legs while he was sucked by another woman.
- One woman over the lap of a man having her bottom spanked and cropped and eventually leading to sucking him while two women alternated playing with the crop on said bottom.
- Another woman with a woman between her legs who was being fucked by a man.
- Three women and one man sandwiched into a king sized bed.
- One woman and one man in a classic 69 while one woman touched them both.

How can one discuss the emotion of an evening without getting burdened by the detail? I've decided that it's impossible. I can't explain what these events or moments meant to me. I don't know how to share the fascination and experience. Sometimes words aren't really enough. The evening was long and varied. The players shifted and adjusted position, though there were clear ground rules. Only one woman ever had penetrative sex. Two of the women had minimal sexual contact with each other. Only two of the women performed oral sex. It didn't matter. How can one separate one's own experience from the group whole? Even if not physically participating, each person was a participant. The dynamic worked. The evening was fluid.

Am I glad to have experienced such a thing?
I am indeed.

So would I do it again?
Well wouldn't you just know it, plans are already underway....(photograph swiped from Siege- my favorite photographer as noted previously)

I Feel Sick

Yeah, Joe is right, I did leave a tease on the end of that last entry. And one of my fingers is black with ink from scribbling down my memories in my paper journal which is already proving difficult given the time lag. Still, one interlude post before moving on to sex parties. Because I'm shitting myself at the moment and it's not very nice.

I'm about to break up with J.

What has it been now- about six weeks? I guess. Long enough for me to fully explore and come to the conclusion that there is no possibility of a long term future with him.

It's not that things aren't pleasant or alright. Or even that they are in any particular way bad. It just isn't going to lead anywhere. Or worse, it will only lead somewhere bad, if I don't head down this particular route and do what I know needs to be done, soon.

I've known for about a week, I just haven't felt it was the right time. But I've just sent him a text asking if he had time to meet up so we could 'chat'. (I know, dead give away and it's all crumbling rather quickly) So now we are arranging a 2pm meeting for coffee and it's all going to happen for real and I need to be a grown up and say to someones face something I don't want to have to say.

I feel sick.

Poker

Okay, to continue the story week that was, let me try to remember what happened. I left off on Sunday night. Monday was work. I feel like we did something that night. Went out to dinner perhaps? But I can't remember now where or with who. Still, I feel general certainty that we did not eat at home. And tlsd couldn't join because it was Monday and she was busy. But what did we do? I really can't recall.

Tuesday we had dinner at home which was lovely. Wednesday I feel like we went out again? And Thursday we went to meet up with some guys SH knew in north London to go to a poker tournament.

Now I should point out, that I don't know how to play poker. But SH told me that it was no big deal because you could either play or just observe and there would be food and drinks available. So I figured I'd just go watch and it would be fine.

We were running late and her friend R picked us up at the tube and off we went. When we got to the door, they already had our names. And R had already paid our entry. I started to panic. Okay, it was just for charity, but seriously, I had no idea how to play! This started to not feel very good at all....

I resign myself to making a complete ass out of myself and say to SH on the way in, "So you get dealt five cards, right?".

She looked at me like I was nuts. "No, you get two, we're playing Texas Hold'em. Oh honey....", she trailed off as we enter a room with five busy tables of 8 people each playing some serious poker. A thin man in a black suit approached us quickly with yellow cards in his hand face down. We pulled cards and it became clear to me that we were being sent off to three entirely different tables. Worse and worse and worse.

Approaching my table of seven serious looking men, I tried to figure out where my seat was supposed to be. One of the guys had a rather vacant looking girlfriend at his side and it was clear she'd taken my seat. No one looked at me as I approached. No one acknowledged me at all.

I asked the suited man if there was a seat and he, and some other woman who was working there scrambled to find me one, and get me my chips. Still no one gave me a single glance. I sat at the table. My chips arrived. The next hand was coming up. "Excuse me," I said to the table, "but I have no idea how to play this game and any advice would be appreciated." The steely eye of the unanimous male table turned to look at me.

Cards started to be dealt and I got some haphazard instruction. I was dealt two tens. I thought one pair wasn't very good, and I figured I'd fold. But someone else who folded offered to help me through my first hand. "No!" he said upon seeing my cards, "Raise!". So I did and around it went. Cards were dealt on the table. I really wasn't keeping up with what they meant. "Go all in!", my advisor advised. The table erupted in an outroar.

"Don't tell her to do that!"

"What the hell man?"

"I'm not playing with this shit!"

Oops. I hardly anticipated creating quite a stir. Of course I didn't care- what the hell did I know. Given the testosterone at the table, if I lost all my chips this hand, I wouldn't care at all just to be free of these guys. I went for it. The cards were dealt.

And I won.

The uproar doubled. Clearly no one was happy about my big win. Because I had help. Because one guy in particular felt slightly cheated. Though I don't see how, I still technically won on my cards, it's not like I didn't or he folded. Still, the table settled in and I played on my own. Occasionally asking a question, or making an error, but it went okay.

Then I won again.

Then I had so many chips that I didn't care. One of the guys said "Go on, match for fun!". So I did. And I won!

I kept playing okay up until the break. When you couldn't buy in anymore and the tournament aspect truly began. After the break it was as if the testosterone dial was turned up even higher, and playing really was no longer fun. I bet my chips on bad hands and got out of the game, I'd had enough fun for one evening, and it was getting far too serious for my liking.

Unfortunately, while both SH and I were out, the boys were still in. We didn't leave the poker tournament until almost midnight. And I had to go home- I had a meeting in the morning. So we went to the high street and found a cab company. And I left SH with R to get up to some fun and games. Which apparently they did since when I got up in the morning, SH wasn't in my bed and upon further inspection, was not on the sofa....

Which was a very interesting way to start the day that ended in a sex party....

Of Magnets and Madness

What did I say last time? I forget. I need to continue on with the story. How else am I going to arrive at the best part? But first, an oddity that has happened recently. Some of my oldest and best friends are considering moving to London. First was SH who has always had a soft spot for the city and a certain burning jealousy since I moved here, but now from a phone call yesterday is CW who was in all fairness considering a move to Dublin recently but her life situation has changed and now London is topping the list.

How amazing would it be for me if two of my old friends ended up here as well?

Though it is a bit strange as I feel like less of a trailblazer if 'everyone else' is doing it, but that's okay, that's just me wanting to feel special, I'll get over it. And I may have two friends here in the process. Excellent. I feel like a super magnet.

In other news, on the bus this morning there was a crazy man. He had a booming voice and a fervent love of Jesus. He was at least entertaining in a 'look at you, you amusing nutcase' sort of way, and he didn't smell or anything so that was positive. Still, I wondered just what went through his mad little mind. He seemed pretty happy. I guess that's good for him.

A Day of Rest

So SH left this morning. I'm quite sad about it- but the upside is that she's managed to get herself a job offer in London and may very well start the process of moving here. Which would be amazing. So fingers crossed about that and lets hope this is just a temporary see you later more than anything else.

I may also see her next month in DC if I'm still going away when I intend to which is a slight up in the air at the moment. My work is so very busy that they are considering (and I offered) to pay to move my tickets and exams until after this major project is finished mid-June. It's not like I'm going home for a specific 'date', and it's more that I travel in the shoulder seasons because the tickets are cheap- not because it's when I ideally want to travel. So I should find out the answer to that this week. But if I stick to the original schedule, SH may come to see her parents during Easter weekend and I'll be at my dad's house and basically that's the same place. So yay!

So the week. What a week. What an impossible and intensive and non-stop week. My intention is no to leave my house at all today frankly. I will probably have to go to the grocery store around the corner, but that's it. Then I'm running back inside. So where to begin?

AS arrived last Thursday and we had a good evening catching up at Rasa in Stoke Newington. Went to work on Friday and SH arrived that morning. I had arranged Friday night drinks out with office people which turned out to be a pretty good sized crowd and lots of fun. There were a couple points of note that day- first was that J and I had something of a tiff, though not exactly. It was all about the fact that I'm not a vegetarian and he is. Plus I'd invited him out to join everyone Friday (and meet my friends) and he was being a bit reluctant about it all, so there was some tension there. But he did end up coming towards the end when some people had left already, and it was cool actually so that was okay, but I suppose it's important to note as a place-marker in things with J because things have been progressing there too, like I said, a busy week.

So anyway, as people got drunker on Friday and a little bit more daring, we somehow decided to dare SH to go to the ladies, take off her shirt and walk back out into the bar. Which she did! And then she did it again, and then, just for fun, sitting back at our table, she took her shirt off a third time. A good way to start off the vacation week I'd say! A sure sign that the madness had begun.

We all stayed up way too late talking and late on Saturday headed to Borough Market which was fun. We started off by eating at Feng Sushi which was okay- though I think not the best sushi place in London. Then we hit the market and bought all sorts of stuff to eat for the week. Saturday night SH came with me to meet up with AS and JCM who I had not seen since I was 17. We got a take-away from Afghan Kitchen in Islington which I'd been wanting to eat at for ages but somehow hadn't. And then we hung out at JCM's house, eating good food and laughing and telling stories while keeping an eye on the lunar eclipse. It was a really fun night, but another really late night.

AS was staying with JCM, so it was just me and SH. We got up on Sunday and decided to go to London Alternative Market as I'd forgotten it was on and SH had never been to one and really wanted to. So off we went to Clapham Junction, again, late. It was as it normally is, though perhaps a bit crowded. Saw B and some other people I knew which was okay. SH also got to try on a corset for the first time which was fun. Actually it was kind of cool because the guy who sells corsets is usually at London Fetish Fair and the last time I went I convinced him to give LAM a try. So seeing him there, he said I'd convinced him which was nice, and I verified that as I expected, he was doing a pretty good business at the new venue (which I'd said in my argument was a bit short on lots of clothing options).

So leaving LAM we headed to Coffee Cake and Kink which SH had wanted to stop by again during this trip. There we had caramel slice and hot chocolate and sat downstairs chatting for ages which was really nice. Eventually though evening plans needed to begin. SH was going to play poker with a guy who is a London client of hers and she had planned to meet up with, and I was meeting up with J as it was his birthday. So we left CCK and went our separate ways, just starting on our relative evenings.

J's birthday was a low-key thing but enjoyable. The weather was horrible, so after meeting at Liverpool street, we ducked into a pub to try and wait out some of the rain. It didn't let up though so we tucked under my too small umbrella and headed to this club on Brick Lane to hear a band that he was interested in seeing. Which was good, but I wasn't dressed for being in a crowded and too-hot club. After most of the set J said he wanted to leave because it was just too hot and humid and unbearable so we left there to head to a curry house on Brick Lane for some food. We ended up in this restaurant that had artwork on the walls that was truly astounding and would not have looked at all out of place on the side of a van. Then we headed back to mine.

So seeing as it was J's birthday, I had to do something a bit special. I'd gotten him a thoughtful gift (I thought) that was appropriate given our short dating time frame and we also tried 'new things' that he was interested in. To be fair, it was just good timing as the new things he was interested required some... equipment. And it happened to arrive in time for his birthday. So that was an interesting evening. In an objective way. It's cool to be able to manipulate your partners responses. It's cool to see the effect you have on someone else. But to me it was interesting in an interesting way, not a 'hot' way. Which I suppose helps clarify my own sexual taste and interests. Still, it was a good night, and I think J would say, a very good birthday, which was definitely the point, so all good.

Monday morning it was up and away to work- the last thing I really wanted to be doing after my busy weekend, but my busy weekend was only the start of my busy week! Maybe I'll end this post here and pick up the story in a little while. Trust me when I say, this was really only the beginning.

Moving the Debate

So few people actually read this blog (which coincidentally doesn't bother me at all), so I find it interesting when someone appears from a search and starts a discussion. There has been one going on here- not that I'm particularly surprised, since I know what I said was relatively controversial or offensive to a vast segment of peoples, but more that someone has the interest to keep coming back.

There's nothing I like better than a good debate.

Still, such particular passion to a singular idea makes me feel quite mischievous, and I have as of so far suppressed the bubbling desire to create such posts as "Foie Gras is Yummy" and "I Like Veal". But the truth is foie gras is yummy, and so is veal. And honestly, most things are not black and white.

It seems interesting that we are so far removed from our natural state, that the idea of killing things sends loads of people into a tizzy. What is so entirely awful about killing things? Lots of things die daily from accidents and carelessness. It seems better to me that death have a purpose than be accidental. Our cultural obsession with 'cleanliness' and 'purity' seems a curious byproduct of civilization. Those who no longer live off the land still receive their sustenance from it, but have in many ways lost the ability to feed themselves. They rely on the down and dirty acts of others to get by and in exchange provide the same culture with work which would otherwise not be possible if one was tending a farm starting at 4am.

Still, appreciating one's symbiotic position in the chain is a far cry from getting moralistic about the value of each persons job or role. I think what bothers me really about all such discussions is that I really don't care what choices you may make for yourself, but under no circumstances should anyone get on the moral high horse about the choice they make. Because it's not that simple, it's not that obvious, and it's not that clear. You have the make the choice that's right for you. What you feel the most comfortable with, what you can be satisfied with in yourself. But the value of that decision should be internal. Not justified through exhibiting a superiority complex towards anyone else and the decisions they make.

Whoa Here They Come

Today AS arrives. Really she should have already arrived, and is on her way here to my office. Tomorrow SH arrives and stays for an entire week. Watch out! Americans descending.

I'm looking forward to the distraction. Nothing is particularly planned beyond Saturday morning. It's all going to play by ear. Sometimes that's the best way.

There are some art exhibits on the list, some restaurants and London food specialities (crispy duck!), and giant slides. I don't know why it's taken me so damn long to ride the slides. By the way, every time I say 'giant slide' all I can think of is comedian John Pinette who did a shtick on a giant slide. All I can tell you is, it's funny. Trust me. But I can't find any Internet breakdown of the CD, so you'll just have to take my word on it.

Only one month now and I'm stateside bound. Now there's a scary thought. Four whole weeks off. Jesus. That's what I like about living in this country. Four weeks off! And the best part? The way I've worked it, that still allows me to keep two weeks of vacation time. Kick ass!