Nervous Excitement

I've been back and forth between excitement and nervousness all day.  I think that my feelings about nervousness and excitement are identical--it is just a question of how my brain labels my emotions.

I started off the day ebullient.  I'm afraid I sounded a little like Rebecca Black. TUESDAY!!   That means tomorrow's Wednesday!  And I can check in for my flight tomorrow.  And Thursday, I fly to Iceland and meet him on Friday!  And it's almost Friday!  (What an odd way to think on Valentine's Day.  But it is lovely.)

I'm as corny as Kansas in August.

I even managed to do some seriously good kissing up at work and I felt like I almost mended the burnt bridge with the boss.

Maxearnest and I had 3 different meeting places in Iceland, and it was starting to make me nervous; I kept seeing things that could go wrong.  I suggest a fairly complicated plan for knowing which place to go to if my flight is delayed and he sends a lovely e-mail with exactly what I should do.  He says "no options because your young girl doesn't want them--do this."  And I calm down.  I'm a little surprised how nice it is to have him take control.  It is odd, because in the beginning I was very skeptical about ceding control in non-erotic places, but he seems to know when it is good and when it is not.  (And he seems to care and only want control in the places where it is a gift.)

Then I got to the Aveda school for a cut and highlight.  I've been going there for about 10 years.  Today, when I check in, I told the receptionist: "Please give me someone great!  This is a big week for me."

It was a disaster.  Disaster!  (Aveda got bought out by Estee Lauder a few months ago, and this is the first appointment I've had with someone trained entirely after the buyout, and I think I may need to find a new place to do my hair.)  This girl had never done highlights before!  She is doing them badly enough that I asked her to get the instructor to show her what to do.  The instructor was kind of horrified and gave her a lesson, on my head.  Well she started to do them again.  I don't know if it was nerves or she is incapable of doing it, but it wasn't going well, and she knew it and threw the foils on the floor and left, saying "I can't do this!" I was tempted to agree with her.

I had to wait about 20 minutes, with 5 foils in my hair, while they tried to talk her down.  Fortunately, she continued to believe she couldn't do it, so they had two women who were about to graduate who did a great job.  But I was terrified.  My entire body turned acidic.  I'm freaking out that something horrible is going to happen to my hair, and I'll look like a freak and Maxearnest won't like me after all.  But, in all honesty, I'm not feeling that different in my body than how I felt when I was giggling in the shower.  I think the difference is in my brain.

My hair turned fine, and once again, I'm excited and happy.  Then I have to get a Brazilian.  Actually, I shouldn't say "have to."  Maxearnest didn't order me to, but it was clear he prefers that so I scheduled it.  On my way to the salon, I e-mailed Maxearnest on my phone to tell him I was running late and didn't know if I could make it home in time for our scheduled phone call.

(Waxing is one place I won't go to the school.  I went to the Aveda school once and it was awful. You really want someone who knows exactly what she is doing and had done it often and does it quickly--this lovely Russian lady kept hitting me on my thighs to take away from the pain of the waxing.  I really think they should create a kinky spa, where all the masters could order up the services they wanted for their subs and it could be a total kink atmosphere from the beginning--you wouldn't even know what you were having done, because it would hurt 1/10th as much if there was a sexual element to it.  But there isn't, and I won't even try to make one, even though I was doing it to please Maxearnest, because I feel like it would make the lady very uncomfortable if I were wet.  And I don't think it would be fair to try and make her part of a scene, and she would be.)

So all hairless down below and nicely coiffed above, I go to e-mail Maxearnest on my way to the car and realize I totally goofed and the earlier e-mail went to me, not to him.  (On my phone, there is no "new" button in hotmail--you can only reply to previous conversations, and the previous conversation I'd already replied to, so when I hit "reply" it went to me.  Hotmail is really stupid sometimes.)  It was about 10 minutes before I was supposed to be home and I knew I wouldn't be home for close to 45 minutes, and I was mortified.  I apologized for my mistake, but I also steeled myself, expecting some sort of chastisement.  I would say most every other Dom I've been involved with (except John or Bobby) would have been upset with me for that.

Maxearnest sent the sweetest, kindest note.  I just felt my whole body relax.

When I was 11 (give or take a year) my parents left me home, in charge of the younger siblings.  I went to make popcorn, and I burnt it.  I had put the popcorn outside until it cooled and then spent probably 45 minutes trying to scrub the pan, but I forgot about the lid, which was still outside.  The anger my father had towards me about forgetting about the lid is something that I still remember on a deep visceral level.  They had never told me I couldn't make popcorn--it wasn't like I'd disobeyed them.  I'd just made an honest mistake, but my father was SO angry with me for the smell in the house and the dirty lid. I also had an allowance with "deductions" and if I forgot to do anything, like leaving an edge of a cabinet wet or not cleaning out a sink drain or anything, I had money taken away.  Only like 5 cents, but it created this kind of perfectionism in me and, I think, a fault-finding in my parents.  I tend to assume that no matter how hard I try, I am going to fuck things up.  And Maxearnest wasn't the least bit upset with me.  Not at all.  He said "take your sweet time--we'll talk tomorrow."  It made me tear up and I could feel my whole body just relax.  

So excited, nervous, excited, nervous.  And Maxearnest is like this calm, loving center at the middle.  I'm so grateful.  Intellectually, I know there is a 20% chance that we won't work.  We'll meet and he won't like how I smell or I won't like how he smells, or something.  And if that happens, I will be so very sad.  But I also know he has already given me a great gift.  But I also think there's an 80% chance that we will blossom with each other.