Let the sun shine in

It has been difficult to write. I've been processing a lot and my head is in a million places. I feel like the pieces are finally coming together but the process has been painful. Such is the road to self-discovery and understanding.

My dreams of late have been vivid and quite meaningful. I have this one recurring dream where I buy a house and after the closing, when I move in, I discover the house is much larger than I originally thought...there are twists and turns and entire wings that I didn't notice at first. The problem is, the previous owners leave me with all of their junk, and for the house to actually be inhabitable, I’d have to invest much money and sweat capital. Last week, I had a variation on the dream. Rather than moving to a house, I bought an apartment in my present building. My dad, who died 9 years ago, helped me move in, but all I had was my bed. My father disappeared, and the next thing I remember is that I see that the previous owner has not yet moved out and is having a party, no less. The apartment, by the way, is magnificent. State of the art, stainless steel appliances…lots of cool built-ins…tons of closets. But, you guessed it…the closets are filled with a lifetime of crap for me to clean up AND the place was horribly decorated. I proceed to walk into my bedroom and there is a couple having sex in my bed. I say,

Hey, I don’t mind if you fuck, but please do it in the other bed.

They oblige. I finally negotiate with the owner on how long she could stay. Oh, and there was fondue. Welcome, my friends, to the inside of my head. This dream pulled together all of my issues, including but not limited to…not being able to let go and an inflated sense of self (which leads to much self-loathing when things don’t come easily to me or when I can’t or don’t get what I want). I’m also sure this has to do with my new feelings of entitlement…not in a selfish way….rather, it’s ok for me to feel the way I feel and make my own choices…but I must set limits and boundaries. I’m sure the woman is my mother, who died 12 years ago, but I’ll spare you the details of that story for now. And, of course, the fondue represents sex. Dreams are pretty fucking amazing…that is, when you can remember them. I’m confident that I remembered this one for very important reasons.

School is starting in a month and I'm feeling anxious (see above for reasons). I have always felt that way before the start of school year. I’d get so nervous that it would be difficult and panic a bit, but then, I’d sail through (with occasional anxiety throughout the year). I know this path will be incredible, but I certainly have my work cut out for me. 20 credits, 10 of which are memory sciences, is a huge load. And I’m going to continue working. I'm preparing myself for a very scheduled life, at least for the first semester. I will mos def make time for the things that are important to me...voice lessons, band rehearsals, biking (er, I mean commuting) and therapy :). I'm planning on dedicating one evening a week to visiting with friends. And there's always room for fucking...although, that’s the one area of my life that must have some degree of spontaneity. Maybe I'll pick-me-up a 20 year old college boy :).

Speaking of fucking..."Sir" has been the only person I've been fucking lately, other than a romp with the male third of my threesome. What I really like about "Sir" is our mutual respect and lack of emotional intimacy. We still have never kissed and that is aok with me. He's searching for another couple to play with. I'm going with the flow... Last time we were together, though, the spanking just plain hurt...and not in a good way. He totally respected my limits, but I didn't find it as pleasurable as I have previously. I enjoyed feeling my pussy engulf his gi-normous cock, though. Damn…I didn’t think I could ever enjoy a cock of that length and girth. I can wrap both hands individually along the length of his shaft with his mushroom head fully exposed. Now I’m afraid I might not be able to go back.

I've been feeling sad about something and have struggled with whether or not I should blog it. Part of what has kept me from doing so is the knowledge that the object of my sadness will most probably be reading this very entry. But the only way for me to get unstuck is to let it out…so fuck it. Besides, this blog is about me…warts and all. I’ve alluded to Jason in several posts and spoke of my feelings for him in greater detail once before. Since our last visit with one another and subsequent email exchange, he has been totally unresponsive to any correspondence…including a birthday greeting. My immediate reaction was, "gosh, I hope he's ok." I eventually took this as a hint and have stopped reaching out. It makes me sad but it also makes me mad. On one hand I think about my mistakes (which I have yet to disclose, and I thank you for being patient with my hesitation to tell) and wanting to right my wrongs...but then I think of his constant mind fucking and that he's actually doing me a huge favor by staying out of touch which gives me a sense of relief.. But I hate that he blew me off…without a word. It’s his prerogative to do so, I know, but, it really sucks. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I care too much. Ok…enough about that…enough is enough. Done.

Although I haven't been writing, I have been expressing myself through music...my ultimate salvation. My new musical project is coming together beautifully. We have a gig scheduled for the end of September and I'm reluctant to post information about it here, but I can be persuaded to share the 411…..

Things are good. Life is good. I’m excited about what’s to come…

Don't touch that dial. The new season of "Tales of a Naughty Nurse in NYC" is going to sizzle.