All Change

This week has been pretty busy. First there was Belgium. Belgium was fun overall if only slightly marred by S and F having a marital dispute Saturday night at her sister's house during her sister's birthday dinner. That was particularly uncomfortable. It was interesting however, to watch how a different family handles such situations. In my family, such an outburst would immediately be everyone's business. There is no way such a thing could occur without every person in the room wanting to know what happened and who said what. This was not at all the case here. In fact, it was hard for me to tell if anyone even noticed that S had jumped up from the table and gone storming out into the evening, but then, how could they have missed it?

So that was a glitch. But the rest of the long weekend was really a lot of fun doing what is probably one of my favorite things- having the local living experience when traveling. I really appreciate being able to stay in people's homes and see how they live and eat the food that they eat and shop at the shops that they shop at. I mean, I like tourist things too, but I'm always struck at the minor diversities that separate culture and I think they are fascinating. Sometimes I think I should have been a sociologist. But nevermind.

So Belgium was a trip full of chocolate and waffles and cherry beer and frites and fish and cheese. Though not all together of course. I got back late Monday night and Tuesday morning I started what may be a new job.

I say 'may be a new job' because it's a bit odd. Basically, my friend S who I moved here with originally who was always ambitious took a different path than me and a couple of years ago started his own company with a guy from his previous employment. Although he and I both do 'urban design', the truth is that it is a category that covers a wide range of projects and involvement and that we went in slightly different directions. I dealt with more localized and built-based applications of the topic and he gravitated towards more city-wide and policy making applications of the topic. Neither is any better than the other, they're just different. And the experience you end up with is slightly different.

So ever since I was made redundant, S has been saying that maybe they could get me some work, but his two business partners were a bit wary of my experience and how it fits with their firm. I think because the work I had been doing was very different. So at the end of last week S called saying he'd talked to his partners and they wanted to know if I'd be interested in 2-3 days a week maybe on a contract basis doing work for them. Of course I was interested- though the job position and duration was not particularly clear. And the pay is not great in that it's less than what I was making when employed, and then I'm not working a full week. But I've worked it out that if I can work three days a week, I can be just over breaking even per month and if I work two days a week I'm just under breaking even but it's so close to the critical mark, that it's probably okay to be honest.

Which leaves me with some time to pursue other interests and other possible work. Which would make all the difference in my income and makes it all work out really. And in the best possible world, I'll get this PhD I'm applying for and be able to work for them two days a week and do the PhD and all will be set with my world. Speaking of which, my application is coming along. All I have left now is to write two different essays- a single page on why I want to do the program, and 2000 words on my thoughts on the topic. I was supposed to work on those today however. But after getting back from Belgium, working Tuesday and yesterday and then working tomorrow, I've just been enjoying a day off today. But Saturday should be good to get first drafts of both going so I can send them to friends for editing and comments.

Saturday night I'm going to see Heathrow at M's house. They are meeting up to discuss a rope workshop that M is organizing and M has agreed to cook dinner. Because this is all out west, I will go and have dinner and listen in on their chatter and possibly be a rope bunny, if things turn that way, then I'll go back with Heathrow to his studio and van and he'll drop me off on Sunday back home. I'm looking forward to seeing Heathrow as of course it's been two weeks. I still have this plastic tie strap thing on my wrist which I'll be curious to see his reaction to, seeing as he put it there. It is starting to be a slow build of sadness that we are only seeing each other every two weeks. I want hugs and cuddles and bondage and sex and time together much more frequently than that. Or maybe I'm feeling it particularly keenly since this is towards the end of the cycle. Well, we'll see what happens. The future is the future, and the now means I'm looking forward to Saturday night and Sunday!!

Oh, the one fantastic thing about my new job? Right by Piccadilly Circus which means right by the Japan Centre which means sushi sushi sushi!!! Though given the tight nature of the budget, what I really need to do is just pick up supplies to make my own bentos, but that's okay. I like that too.

Life Carries On

So what has happened in the last week, starting with last week. Last week was very busy. I had work to do. The main thing about last week was to finish up my lecture and then give the thing, to students, on Friday. Being the massive procrastinator that I am, although I worked on it, I let it go until the last possible minute- dragging it out. In between this, I also went to meet with a client about a 3d model. I had really been hoping to wrap that particular project up, but it didn't happen and I'm committed to another day at his home office in March.

The lecture went well though, which was important to me. It was also paired with a day of being a guest critic reviewing second and third year degree student's work. That was really good- though it's harder than you think it's going to be, concentrating all day like that. Trying to say smart and useful things to students without crushing them completely if they have a horrible project. I was sad to say one student did cry, but that wasn't really my doing. He seemed really stressed and not getting it. I wonder how much he'd slept.

Still, it was tough, after an entire day of this mental work to have to then give my lecture. It was a new lecture, on urbanism and the natural environment (image today is from the lecture). It ended up only being one studio of students because the other studio that was supposed to join ran over in their discussion. But that was okay. I think the best part about the lecture is that the students had a bunch of thoughts and questions to contribute at the end, so there was a bunch of conversation on the topic which I guess meant the students actually were thinking about what I'd said, which was really the main point, so like I said, it all seemed to go well.

So that was last week really- work focused generally and stressing out about being in the spotlight. Other important news from last week was that I finally got in touch with the guy who is in charge of the PhD and that conversation seemed very promising. There was a question about whether or not I qualified for the funding- so that was another thread to last week, but then I got the answer back that I do qualify so to go ahead with the application. So that's also moving ahead and sort of exciting as a prospect. The more I think about it, the more I think it's what I want to do.

Also last week I had asked Heathrow if he wanted to come down for a day over the weekend. I was trying to avoid the whole topic of Valentine's Day as it seemed so wildly inappropriate to what we're doing. It was more in my mind that it was two weeks since we'd met up and we're sort of on that schedule. So I was disappointed when he said he didn't think he wanted to come into London. I figured I didn't want to be the one to keep asking for plans (and didn't really like the rejection aspect) so I figured I'd just leave it at that point, but I was annoyed by it. At any rate, Saturday morning I had an email from Heathrow to reply to and feeling rather upbeat from finishing my week I sent him a chirpy email where I happened to mention that I was away this weekend (which I am, but more on that later) and how I was finished with my work and bored and had nothing to do.

At which point he called me and asked if I wanted to hang out and that he'd come pick me up.

So I spent Valentines weekend with Heathrow in the van. With him making jokes about 'dogging' everywhere we parked and did naughty things. We went to Bluewater to window shop and eat and played games and screwed in the parking lot. Then we went to Brighton and walked out to the end of Brighton pier in the dark with the lights on and walked along the path by the pebble beach eating crepes before sleeping on the same road listening to the base of some club and the constant sound of the waves on the shore. Sunday was spent wandering around Brighton which I'd never done properly before which was fun. And we ended up having a very good Chinese dim sum meal at some place before heading back to the van and driving back to Hackney for my door to door service before he continued on to Cambridge.

As per usual with Heathrow, I feel like every time I see him we get closer, whether that's because we are actually getting 'closer' or because we are just getting to know each other better, and are more comfortable with each other. Regardless, it's all very nice. And naughty. Can't forget the naughty, but as far as I'm concerned, that's nice too.

Then this week has been pretty chill. I've been trying to finish up the loose ends of my application to the PhD which includes trying to coordinate references and get transcripts and things like that. I've read a couple of books, though nothing of note. And I'm getting ready for my trip this weekend to Belgium with S and F which I'm looking forward to. I had a free Eurostar ticket and S is from Belgium so we are staying with her family so it's a pretty inexpensive trip, though I'm sure I'll end up spending something.

Tonight, T and D came over and I made some super delicious yummy baby pizzas. I should do this more often. They always come out so tasty. And they were much appreciated by my guests. I have one leftover which makes me happy because I get to eat it again!

Oh, and the other thing from this week in talking to my therapist, she thinks that I've made such good progress on the relationship front that she wonders if I feel I need to continue to see her every week. So that's kind of nice- getting some kind of affirmation of having made progress.

Oh and in much other and very obscure news, I learned that a very old ex-friend of mine who I stalk periodically is a recent widow. Previous stalking suggested she and her husband were separated, but the obituary said survived by his wife. Although his Friendster page (which is still up, morbidly) doesn't say that he's married, it says his relationship is complicated. I guess it doesn't matter now. In fact none of it really matters, but I still find it interesting.

Social Intricacy

So I go from being a person who thinks I'll never be involved with anyone ever again. Never have a chance to be in a relationship ever again. Never have anyone be interested in me ever again (well, was anyone ever?). And here I am feeling almost (almost) like I'm beating off opportunities with a stick. Of course nothing seems quite right- and if it did, that would make all the other options and choices easy to discard.

So I'm confused, as it were. For my own benefit of mental organization, the current cast of characters include:

The Other Couple. I began seeing TOC when I was still involved with Mr.Aloof and toy. If anything, it was an immature and passive aggressive response to start seeing them- probably to try and manipulate Mr.Aloof to some degree. It worked in some ways, but not at all in others. And in the meantime TOC have proven themselves to be nice and fun and considerate and consistent. I have been involved with them for a year, though I've known them probably half again as long. They currently want to see me and I find I am putting them off a bit. Because I'm not sure how my involvement with them fits in with everything else going on.

The Photographer. Well, he's not really 'in the picture' or even much of an option in some ways. I haven't pursued it much. Again, because I'm not at all sure how my playing with him would fit in with everything else. However, the one time we did mess around it was lots of fun. Today, he was outside texting to see if I was free, but I am working on my lecture (like I am right now in fact. Ha.), and I now have a flatmate again which sort of puts a damper on naughty business. We had an extended text conversation however, and he says he'll be in touch soon. Hm....

Heathrow. My cute long haired octopus boy who makes me say very naughty things (yes, makes me!) and is breathlessly talented with rope, is currently the main focus of my interest. But what is going on exactly? If I could see him more than every other week, I'd maybe have a better idea. Or another way to look at it, is even if our relationship status wasn't any more defined, if I saw him more often, I'd be less interested in scratching that itch with others. But part of me struggles with feeling like I shouldn't put too much in this because I do only see him every other week (at the moment) and he's said he doesn't want to be in a relationship, although is definition of relationship and mine seem to be separated by a large gap. I like Heathrow, a lot. And maybe that scares me a bit. I also know Heathrow at least plays with lots of other people. So I'm not really clear where the line or rules are. The last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings, but I haven't talked to him about these things. Currently in my thought process, Heathrow is distinguished by being the only person I'm sleeping with, and the only person I want to sleep with (and while this is true, I've avoided TOC instead of telling them this at the moment). He's the person I want to be intimate with, though by definition playing with others is a certain level of intimacy. Heathrow is on and in my thoughts when others aren't.

M. My new friend with the whips. M is easy to talk to and we share a laugh. There hasn't been anything close to 'sex', though it's impossible to completely remove play from 'sexual contact'. I mean, obviously a lot of it is all an erotic turn on, does it matter if you actually are touched by someone in that way or even kissed? What about being touched in other ways? Or held? Complicated. M knows about Heathrow. M knows Heathrow. And M respects that I am interested in Heathrow, but it doesn't keep him from wanting to test out his whips or rope on me. And given that I'm technically free and enjoy such activities, I'm not sure why I shouldn't. Except I haven't told Heathrow about our involvement in this way at all, though he knows we're talking.

And then there's just the random people that memo me on IC and actually seem interesting. After years of jerks and uninteresting people, suddenly, there's these interesting people that want to talk to me and want to meet up and I feel like I have enough on my plate at the moment, but I'm reluctant to pull my ad because some of the people above would see it and I don't want that to influence anything.

So it's complicated really.

M tells me it's not complicated at all. That I should talk to Heathrow and should stop seeing people if they aren't who I want to see, and don't play with people if I don't want to. But I guess that's part of the problem. My wanting to is somehow tied to what the alternative is. So, if Heathrow isn't interested and doesn't care, then why should I give anything up?

Except really, I'd rather be spending time with him- it's just that that's not possible.

Oh well. I'm sure this will all play itself out eventually. I just hate the waiting and the not knowing and the ever present fear that I'm going to do something wrong. Yes. As a matter of fact, in all of this, that's my biggest fear. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I want it to all work itself out okay. And of course as a secondary consideration to all of this, I really don't want to be hurt either. Ugh.

Iron Stomach

I've been going through a purge in my fridge and food cupboard. This is probably a good thing. I am somewhat well known for my ability to hoard food. I'm not entirely sure where this behavior came from. I see things I like, and then I just like to have them, but I don't always use them. But I do like to have them. This means I accumulate things and then I can be reluctant to actually use the things I have.

So last week I just started throwing out things in the fridge that have been there over a year. Or two. No, I'm not joking. Don't judge me. At some point those things would have still been fine, but I came to my senses and decided they probably weren't. And now the amount of time had passed of my having them that I probably didn't want to find out if they were still edible or not, so out they went. Which was good- cleared up some space in my fridge.

But then there were some other things that I thought even though they were old, I would probably still try them because I figured they were most likely okay. However, I am trying to push myself towards actually using these things, before another year passes and they cross some magic line in my head that means they just go straight to the trash.

So for lunch today I decided to try this bag of Japanese vegetables that was sort of vacuum packed and only two years past its best by date. In truth, they were completely fine. The vegetables were unseasoned, so just had a mild flavor and I added spice, sesame oil, soy sauce, and sesame seeds and ate it with rice and it was completely fine. Still, part of me has a slightly edgy twang for having eaten something that was two years past its date. So if I never post again, or end up in the hospital having my stomach pumped, we will all know why.

I know that my attitude towards food freshness is probably extreme, but on the other hand, I think that people throw away things that are perfectly fine and edible far too often. Don't worry though, if you come to my house, it's highly unlikely I would serve you very out of date stuff. I tend to save that sort of experimentation for myself.

More Considering

So looking around on what is on offer in the land of employment today, I have found a new opportunity and one that does hold some appeal. There is a fully funded PhD available through the University of Birmingham. It is on a topic that is directly related to my interests and speciality. So this is good. The good things about this new idea is that I would end up with a PhD- which would make it easier for me later to move into academics. It's in Birmingham, which is vaguely commutable (most PhD students don't have to be 'there' all the time- though this job involves research that is potentially based in a Birmingham based office, but this is still not necessarily the end of the world). This would also allow me to continue on small jobs and consultancies- in fact I would have to really, because the downside to this job is that the school fees are covered (so free PhD basically) but the living stipend is only 13k/year. That's less than half of my previous salary, though arguably, it's tax free, so it's slightly better than it initially seems. But still not ideal. On the other hand, it would be something instead of nothing, and would perhaps benefit me in the long run by increasing my credentials and giving me advanced knowledge in a topic that is relevant and important to my field. Plus I'd be published and stuff- all good for my future career really. So actually, I'm thinking that I might be pretty interested in this one. Well, I've at least convinced myself to apply. We'll see what happens with this, and everything else.

Changing Expectation

I've been out of work for so long now that it's become the norm and not the exception. My daily thought process is not that this is all some temporary condition but I have accepted it as my new condition and plan my life and days accordingly.

Of course, it can't be like that, because money is finite and all good things must come to an end. It's just that there aren't any jobs in my field being listed and so I feel very much that there is nothing else I can be doing, other than what I am already doing which includes keeping up with my agents and applying for jobs that I think I probably don't have that good a shot at, but applying anyway because I could do the job even if I don't want it.

And then there are the jobs in other places that are so tempting in many ways but frustrating in others. There's one job making the rounds at the moment for a senior urban designer in China. I won't apply for this job, not only because I don't think I'm quite qualified enough for it, but I can't move to China just now for the same reasons I didn't want to move to Dublin.

But another job has come up that is in Glasgow and it is causing me problems in that it is a very good job, one that would mean a slight career shift for me, but a very positive career shift and would bring prestige and importance. But I would have to move go Glasgow and that has not been something that has been anywhere near my list, let alone high on it. The only good thing to this job is that it's academic- so I would get all the time off that academics get and could hurry back to London every chance I had. But really, if I go for this job, I'm making at least a two year commitment to relocating to Glasgow if not longer.

But it would be a very good job that would lead to the position of Head of the Department. It's a highly influential position that would bring me into contact with any number of other people and open up any number of doors. It's just that it's a huge shift in my thinking. It means shifting my focus to academia over practice. Part of me is frightened. That I'm not ready, that I'm not qualified, that I'm not capable. And I know that in some ways that is probably true, but in other ways it isn't true at all. I'm entirely suited to such a job, if only I were more motivated.

And if only the job were not in Glasgow. I can't help think about how I'm 34 years old and that starting over someplace is just pushing back my social life to square one. That I may be succeeding career-wise, but personally, I'd be suffering a setback I may never recover from. It could be that I'm just afraid of change, but I know how hard it is to meet people and to move to a place where you don't know anyone. It isn't easy and part of me feels like I'm just getting too old for this. But then part of me thinks that I'm in just the sort of position where I am free to make such decisions in that I don't have a partner or a family to drag away from their own lives and commitments.

I don't know. The truth is, were it not for the economic crunch, I would never even be considering such things. These are the choices that I'm having to consider. And it's not that it's all bad, it's just not what I wanted. I think I need to work on coming around to that. Because this current life of sitting in the relative safety of my lounge is not going to last forever.

Recording Memories

Looking outside at the lovely snow while I sit on my sofa and suffer from a rather nasty cold gives me time to reflect on the weekend just past. This one is not required to be a three part tale, though a lot of things happened.

Heathrow picked me up on Friday night exactly on time. We drove through London heading west and south to get to his flat. He put some laundry in and we both took advantage of the bathroom and then we headed back down to the van for the night. We'd picked up a bottle of sparkling wine and just hung out while drinking the bottle. I know I got tipsy. I remember laughing and cuddling. I remember stripping down to panties (for some reason, I really don't prefer to sleep completely naked and at the very least want panties as a covering- I don't know why, I just know it's more comfortable for me this way), and then trying to slip past him in the van to get to the back bed and he stopped me and asked me where I was going. I remember feeling that tingling arousal of feeling shy and embarrassed suddenly as he grabbed me and kissed me and stroked me before letting me past.

I'm sure we fooled around and had sex before going to sleep, but nothing sticks out in my mind as noteworthy other than it was lovely and nice and wonderful of course. Then we went to sleep, so there's not too much to say about that.

In the morning we messed around some more. I recall one thing standing out specifically in that we were worked up to that point where we were about to have sex and I was drifting somewhere in my thoughts and sensations as he got a condom and then I know I was looking away or not paying full attention when all of the sudden he penetrated me completely and I remember how it took my breath away and created this intense mental focus of what was happening. It's funny sometimes, the things that stick out in your head. But it was a thrilling and intense experience. Not something that could be recreated- my attention had truly drifted for a moment only to be slammed back into the present in such a delightful way.

I remember him telling me to make myself come while he fucked me. Always a winner as far as I'm concerned. I mean, it's nice when someone else can do it, but I understand the difficulty of multi tasking under such circumstances. Plus, I'm pretty much guaranteed to do it exactly right, whereas someone else is going to have a slightly harder time of it. Don't get me wrong, I do like when someone else does it, but I appreciate someone who also isn't so insecure as to dislike the idea of their partner getting themselves off simultaneously. I've met such people. Seems like a waste.

Eventually we decided to disengage and drag ourselves up and out of bed and popped up to the flat to change the laundry and shower. The last time I saw him, we bathed/showered together. This is truly one of my longer standing erotic intrigues- bathing together. The act of washing someone. I find it deeply stimulating and intimate. I like that the intent is to touch someone absolutely everywhere. I like the cleanliness that comes with it, the rushing of the water- all of which lends itself to comfort of kissing and licking and biting someone all over. This instance was no exception and I enjoyed it very much. At one point Heathrow asked me if I'd peed yet that morning, which I hadn't and he insisted I do so in front of him in the shower. Usually I'm not at all pee shy- I mean, it's not really my kink in that, people peeing doesn't do anything for me, but I'm also not usually embarassed by it. It's sort of a non-entity for me. Yet for some reason, I suddenly found myself slightly pee shy and struggling with the request. Of course the benefits of relationships with dominant/submissive overtones is that the desire to do it for him outweighed my thought process and eventually I was able to, albeit while looking away. And with all the running water he missed it actually which I thought was hilarious.

We decided to head into Uxbridge for the day which was just a bus ride away and ate at a pleasant Italian restaurant there after walking around for a bit. At this point I noticed that my nose had not only become half blocked, but was dripping unceremoniously and continuously. This annoyed me but I resolved to ignore it as best I could. Still, it's frustrating for me as I'm so self conscious usually, I don't need things to happen which draw (negative) attention to myself. So that was annoying. After lunch we explored Uxbridge some more and went to a few different shops.

Getting back to the flat and the van we were hanging out on what was the middle bed- usually the dining area, Heathrow had switched it to its 'bed' configuration earlier in the week, although definitely not a double, what is nice is that unlike the other two beds, there is significantly more headroom. I had brought my leather cuffs with me this trip (I brought a bag of random toys, as nothing had been requested), and Heathrow had me put them on. Then he had me lay down on the bed and using rope got the cuffs tied together and then anchored to the wall, then this came under the platform and he tied up my feet and attached them to the opposite end of the bed which made me into a sort of column. I cold wriggle and twist, but couldn't really pull my arms down or legs up.

And so we played around. What was amusing was that I started off here fully clothed. So for a while he just tormented me and tickled me and cuddled me. Then going to get more rope and obviously slightly displeased with my degree of mobility he switched up the cuff connection so that my arms were spread to opposite corners (cleverly doing so before unattaching the first rope and then pulling the other's taught so that I had no chance to resist. Then, freeing the tension on my legs, took that rope and pulled it back up to above where my hands were tied which basically doubled me over, with my ass exposed. Now, hindsight is always amusing and Heathrow came to realize it would have been easier to undo my jeans and pull them down prior to pulling my legs up, but he managed and then there I was with my ass truly exposed, but the rest of me clothed and bound. He then draped me with a sheet which did multiple things. I'm sure from his side, there was the objectification element of just having this exposed bit of body detached from anything else. For me, the drape provided some degree of privacy in that I always find exposure embarrassing, so I appreciate being covered in a sense. And of course the drape also meant that whatever he was up to or preparing, I couldn't see.

I could hear him moving about and he certainly took advantage of my position to pry and pull and peek at what was on display, which even with my draped cover made me giggle and squirm and clench with embarrassment. Then next thing I knew there were insistent lubed fingers prodding and poking everywhere (yes, I mean everywhere). That was pretty hot and intense and still embarrassing as he would touch me and comment on how he could feel my muscles clenching in response. And then he was fucking me in this position and it was seriously intense. I really couldn't move much and the angle, with the fact that my legs were tied together made it all the more sensational.

After some time enjoying that position, he untied my legs and had me squirm out of my jeans. He then went for an asymmetrical tie and pulled one of my legs back up over my head while tying down the other straight. Pulling out my vibrator from the toy bag he proceeded to have fun making me squirm and wiggle around as best I could under the circumstances.

Tiring of that game after a while, he untied my legs, got rid of the panties, and then retied them separately from the thigh just above the knee and pulled that back to the corresponding corners which of course exposed me more readily. With effort I could sort of pull my knees together but it took effort and was not sustainable, so my legs would fall apart to my embarrassment and I would struggle to pull them back together again. Looking around with a devious glint in his eye, sort of like, "What else can I do to her in this position...?" he spotted the leftover bottle from the night before, threw a condom on it and then started to fuck me with that. Which was fun and different and hot, or rather, cold, because the bottle was really cold! And it obviously turned him on too because after a bit he replaced the bottle. And after a while in that position, he undid my legs while still inside of me so I could be slightly more active.

Although then he started a very evil (yet fun) game of making me say something rather dirty (which I think I shall not repeat even here) or he would tickle me mercilessly while all the while still going at it. I of course found this deliciously fun. I will always try to play games like that to the best of my ability. I don't like giving in just to give in, I really like to be pushed to that edge where I have to give in because I can't take any more. So this kept repeating and repeating and I was deliriously off in my own little world of sex and submission and sensation.

Eventually he untied me from the bed and snapped a padlock onto my cuffs behind my back. Grabbing those and my hair, he guided me to sitting on him on the edge of the bed and used his small flogger to modulate my rhythm. Actually, I'm not sure where that fit in to the story above, because at some point he was using his flogger on me. But it must have been early because I think I had reasonable mobility at the time and could roll back and forth. Anyway, this wasn't so hard, it was just fun. There was also some oral sex at various points throughout all of this. Something I am starting to feel better about, though I can't do anything about my gag reflex. Heathrow is always very verbally appreciative of my efforts though which does give me more confidence in this area. So that's good and fun.

Then I was put bending over the bed face down and he tied my bound arms up behind me to the cabinet so I was rather stuck, and he took me that way.

It was all just deliciously hot and fun and enjoyable and fun.

So after all that sex we worked up a small appetite, though in fairness our lunch had been massive, so still not starving. We managed to get some clothes on and drove to a chippie and split some chips for dinner with soda. And it tasted fantastic. Just hit the spot.

We drove back to the flat and Heathrow suggested some time for some proper ropework- meaning not for the sake of adding to ones sex life, but to work on the rope stuff, in particular for him. But it's good for me because I do love the sensation of being tied. In that setting, it's like a meditative relaxation to just give in to the binding and let yourself be completely encompassed by it and drift away with no other responsibility then to let yourself be tied.

So removing my shirt and bra, he went about testing out a tie that he's been working on from a book. It's a rope artist I've seen in video before- Japanese, but I don't remember his name. The book is in Japanese and has some fairly complex ties. It also leaves quite a bit out, so while there are instructional photos, you would really need to know what you're doing to even begin to attempt it. Luckily Heathrow does, so he went about trying to replicate a particular chest harness from the book. This required some doing and undoing at points while he worked through it. It didn't start off overly tight and at one point Heathrow commented that maybe he should have done it tighter, but as it got to the last bindings, it cinched in all of the connection points and the whole thing went very tight restrictive in a lovely sort of way. And when he was satisfied with it, he untied me slowly and with intention, holding me and touching me throughout which is part of what I like about tying with Heathrow- the intimacy that he creates with it. Lovely.

And then we went to bed. And I did not sleep well because my cold was now developing more and more to the point where I couldn't really breathe out of my nose. I think I woke myself up a few times with really bad snoring noises, and my throat started to hurt from so much mouth breathing. No fun. So we were slow to get up. Not because I wasn't awake- because I was, but because I was worried that my restless and loud sleeping had possibly kept Heathrow up and I didn't want to wake him up if he was still sleeping.

But eventually we woke up. Messed around all the more, I mean, of course we did. Why on earth wouldn't we? And then we really got up with the intention of making a Sunday roast in the van. I had brought some of my organic veggies and had picked up some stuffing mix and he had pork chops in a honey mustard sauce and so we got washing and chopping and seasoning and chilled out and cuddled while everything was cooking. We had to go up to the flat to do the pork and he did an impromptu tie on me up there where he has a frame so I was standing but connected to the frame and he would come either cuddle me or tickle me and I kept hopping and jumping and spinning and that was fun until the pork was done. Then we came back to the van, he converted the bed back to the table and chairs and we had a lovely roast meal.

And then it was time to get moving, we cleaned up and I packed my stuff up, then we drove to his friend T's place and socialized there for a bit, and then he drove me home. And just as we were getting home the snow was starting. I got in and had a quick bite and then immediately found my Nyquil and went to bed I think by 8:30. I've woken up still pretty ill (and have switched to Dayquil) so I'm eating kiwis and drinking lots of tea and trying to will myself well (which never really works) while I digest my weekend.

I'm sure I have more to say about the meaning of things and the relationship of me to Heathrow as people- but I do like to get down the details before I completely forget them. Next time maybe. Now, to go drink more tea.