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.

Risky puritanical tendencies.

I went for an HIV test today.  I don't intend to have sex with Maxearnest, but he got one, and it seems only fair.

Maxearnest and I have completely different approaches.  He got one, matter of fact, but it isn't a huge deal for him.  It was like 'this needs to happen.'  I didn't think I could have HIV.  I had a test after the last person I slept with, but before the '3-month waiting period' was up (and we only ever had sex with condoms).  So, statistically, there was incredibly little chance.  But even so, with all the pictures every where of all the sores that one can have, I'm aware of this 'zero-risk' mentality.

When they were giving me the results (negative, or I wouldn't be blogging like this, I'm sure) the nurse said "have a safe flight" and I was like "I can't control that risk."  And if I were flying for any other reason than to meet a guy that I met on-line, that statement would be a passing courtesy, but instead it is one more thing that I have to control for a zero-risk life when it comes to sex.

Weirdly, though, U.S. society loves risk that isn't related to sex.  What is the worship of "free-market" ideals above all else, except a vibrant embracing of risk?  Even our constant disposable/consumer culture is, in a way, fetishizing the 'new' over the known, which is risky.  The war in Iraq is only the most obvious example of a political culture that wants our leaders to take risks.  Humiliating yourself on national television for 10-seconds of fame seems very high-risk to me.

In all honesty, the riskiest part of my trip to Iceland, whether or not Maxearnest and I have sex, is probably my drive home from the airport, when I'm tired and rush-hour traffic will be at its worst.  But those risks are somehow normalized in our culture.

Yes, going to a hotel with Maxearnest is risky.  He will probably tie me up in Iceland (although not on the first day, I'm sure.)  And once he has tied me up, he could do things that I wouldn't be OK with, and I'm trusting him not to.  But I do trust him.  

But this constant focus in our culture on the risks of being a sexual being have had their impact on me.  I can see that.  Shame our culture doesn't focus on the risks of not being a sexual being.  Those risks, however, are much easier for the corporates to profit off of.

Lucky.

I miss Maxearnest!  We talked this morning for like half an hour, but that was it!  (Granted, that was it because of my work schedule and the dang time difference--9 hours is a lot!)  But I'm shocked how much I miss him!

I feel really lucky--we just fit together really well.  Somehow, he has affirmed me, just the way I am.  (And yes, I know he'll read this.  And the fact that I can write something like that here, and know he'll read it, and that is OK, is lovely.)

I called my dad this weekend, for the first time in a long time (since I left at Christmas).  And I'm still really frustrated with where he is.  But until recently, it felt like I couldn't ask the world to treat me better than my dad had.  And I don't feel that way any more.  I feel like something has shifted for me.

I really, really hope we like each other when we meet.  I hope it is a magical, magical weekend in Iceland.  Maybe we'll even melt it a little.  

Possession

This is, of course, building a castle in the air.  I know we will, if we decide to go there, need to build foundations before we can move in.  But I am beginning to see possibilities that I, until this point, considered unlikely.

It seems that if Iceland goes well, Maxearnest will come to visit for a month or so in April.  And if that happens, and that goes well, at some point or other, it is possible that Maxearnest would want to own me.  And what shocks me is that I am open to that.  I think I will want that too.

Maxearnest doesn't view that as having a servant; who views it as a great responsibility.  And he likes the parts of me that I like.  He doesn't know the 'power woman' as well as just about anyone else, but he likes that side of me too.

And I see myself on Skype--I can always see myself in the top right hand corner.  And the joy I have with him is palpable.

The 'young girl' side is blossoming, and it is really lovely to see.

With the ex, I tried to get him to protect my 'bounciness.'  And what I meant by that was the joy and resilience and groundedness and spontaneity and openness.  I have a little figurine of Tigger.  Most of my tchotchkes are more elegant, or more exotic, or more sentimental.  I don't buy Disney stuff--I buy hand-hewn Indonesian dragons.  But I love that little figure of Tigger, because that is a quality in myself that is important to me.  And Maxearnest has spoken, in different words, of the same thing.  And he sees it as a responsibility to protect that.  He has said that things may be hard in the short run, and he appreciates that I will endure pain to please him, but he will make sure that it is joyful in the long run.

I own two cats.  And yes, there are times I push them off the bed when they want attention and I don't want to give it to them.  And there are times I pick them up and pet them when they don't really want to be picked up.  But that ownership is responsibility.  Every other man who has wanted to 'own' me didn't see the responsibility side.  The ex basically saw it as a housekeeper who would blow him whenever he wanted.  He didn't really care if I was happy.  I don't know if he ever really saw me happy.  That's not true--one days I had a blog-entry picked up on HuffingtonPost, and the ex went and bought ice-cream and fed me while I blogged, and he was very proud of me for that. But Maxearnest makes me happy nearly all the time, and he can see when I'm happy and when I'm not.  If he wants to take on the responsibility of making decisions for two, I believe he would balance my needs with his.  He would balance both instead of making either one a priority.  I think it could feel like coming home.

Pain and Pleasure

My first orgasm was with a sweet man who wooed me for a month and never called.  It was unexpected, and it was gentle but firm.

My second orgasm, and every one after that was harsher.  A clutching, grasping, how do I make this happen?  And for every single orgasm, beginning with my second one, the idea of surrender and then pain was the catalyst that made it happen.

I wasn't initially drawn to the idea of pain, but the erotica that I found that had surrender in it always seemed to include pain, and so I became more and more drawn to the idea of pain.  Actually pain, on the other had, I don't care for.  (But if I'm turned on, things that would feel like pain in other contexts don't hurt.)

Maxearnest has me playing with myself every night, and thinking of him, and having an orgasm.

Last night, when I was so close to having an orgasm, I started to go for the thought of pain, I heard his voice saying "only pleasure for my good sweet Connie" and I came without a thought of pain.  With only pleasure.  And it was really lovely.  I feel a certain lightness with that.

That doesn't mean I don't want hot, dirty and rough ever again, but it was so nice to add that note to my repertoire.  It felt like a gift.  Only 13 more days to Iceland, and I can hardly wait!

Bad Girl...

Maxearnest and I had a very nice conversation this morning--he is sort of viewing almost a collaboration between my "power woman" side and him to take care of my private girl.  My public side is much more articulate and faster and able to see connections and ways around difficulties and my young girl is so slow at articulating anything.  Maxearnest really likes that my 'power woman' can articulate the stuff that my submissive side can't.  I said this morning that any sexual explicit stuff on Skype terrified me because I just don't want video or dirty pictures of me to exist, and he was, I think, surprised at how hard that was for me.  (I volunteer doing college prep for  kids with limited resources, and we talk about how important it is to control your digital footprint.  We look at the revenge porn sites and women who are humiliated and horrified, who trusted someone, and I'm really trying to get the kids to control what is available. I tell my kids to just not make those pictures available because once you make them, you cannot control them.  If you don't want google to have naked photos of you in 20 years, don't make naked photos. Maybe I've been using scare tactics on them, but until now, I've really believed that.  This  is something that really scares me.)  Maxearnest was really surprised, I think, at how much that scared me, and the fact that that means I don't completely trust him.  He is, I think, OK with that for now, but wants to have that as a tool after Iceland.  More importantly, he wants me to trust him.  But we talked through it.  It was hard.  I think that is the most articulating discomfort that my young girl side has ever done.  But afterwards, I felt heard and honored.  (I'm still terrified of 'camming' though...)

Then at work, a boss chewed me out.  I had spoken with my immediate supervisor about a change 2 years ago, and he said no, because my upper tier boss had a policy against it.  (I have three bosses at this job, an immediate supervisor, a higher level supervisor and the upper-tier boss.  The lower two are both men, and the upper-tier is a woman.)  The chance to do it again came up and I asked my immediate supervisor, who again said no, because of the policy of the upper-tier boss, so I sent an e-mail to my upper-tier boss; she said "that makes sense, go for it" and my immediate supervisor than made it happen. Well, my higher-level supervisor chewed me out like I could not believe today.  He as SO angry at me!  He couldn't believe I'd gone over his head, when it honestly never occurred to me that he'd care or I should talk to him first.  He was SO mean and so sarcastic, and my public side had to be a bit submissive.  I apologized, profusely.  I said I didn't know (which was true) and he spat "ignorance is bliss."  He then got really angry at me for having president's day off (which is stipulated in the contract for all employees at my level) and a couple of other things that I don't control.  I don't think he is going to try and fire me over it, but it really shook me up.  He also got mad at his boss, our upper-tier supervisor and told her that she shouldn't have approved it.

I may have fucked things up at work.  I honestly didn't know, and I'm going to try and make it better, but I don't really know how.  But my boss is like that--he will pick on my for shit that makes absolutely no sense. I'm never able to predict what he wants.  Last year he got quite mad at me because he didn't like an e-mail about a grant.  (Not an e-mail I sent, but an e-mail that an outsider grant-agency sent me.)

I felt really, really shaken afterwards.  Like I had been a 'bad girl.'  Even though I know my boss is less qualified than I am (he doesn't have a JD, and was grandfathered in, but could never get the job he has now) and every single female that works for him has a hard time with him, I still feel like I did something wrong.

It is interesting how hard it was to have my 'young girl' try to explain to Maxearnest why something scared me (I don't know that I was at all articulate, but I did manage to do it a little) and how good it felt when I had done that.  It actually felt empowering for that side of my personality to be able to say something like that.  And then my public side did what I do well, I think.  I think I assuaged a situation, a little, with a tiny bit of dignity and aplomb.  But I didn't stand up for myself (in part because I wasn't expecting it and didn't know what to say, and my boss just plain old scares me and in part because my boss wouldn't even let me speak).   And even though I thought I hadn't done anything wrong, I felt really shaken.  I felt like a bad girl.

It's funny.  My dad, whom I haven't spoken to in a month, says I need to do a better job of standing up for myself.  But I usually don't even know how.   I can't quit this job.  Losing this job terrifies me.  I need this job.  And so I subjugate myself (only on a very occasional basis--he has a fit like this maybe twice a year).  And it makes me feel like a very, very bad girl.  And that feeling of being a bad girl is almost always over something I didn't predict or don't feel like I can control.

Dancing with Angst

So I have to say, I am really enjoying Maxearnest.  We are skyping hours every day, and he is funny (and incredibly quick and smart for English being his 2nd language) and all of my concerns, he sort of says 'but I would never do that--it is my responsibility to make sure that you are happy with the kink in the long run.'

I've waited years for a man to say that to me.

I'm excited, and not even that nervous about this unbelievably crazy thing I'm doing.  The 2 friends that actually know I'm going to Iceland to meet someone (rather then just because I got a cheap ticket over presidents day) both want his name, address, social security number (never mind that, as a non-U.S.-citizen, such a thing doesn't exist), copy of his passport and dna profile.  They are trying to take care of me, and I respect that.  But somehow, this feels good in my bones.  (And I am going to e-mail them the name of wherever we end up staying, although I can't help but notice that we've put off finding a place until we meet, which gives us the option of a hotel, rather than being locked into a youth hostel.  But a youth hostel probably makes a lot more sense for a variety of reasons.)

I am aware of how much angst is built into my system.  And that's OK. I just need to say "Hi Angst.  Welcome.  Let's dance."  But dancing only with angst is a little repetitive.  I think she needs a break.

There are places I'm putting the brakes on a bit.  We're both bringing HIV tests to Iceland, but I've also said I'm not really ready to have sex, and if, by chance, I feel ready after a few days, I think there should be condoms.  (Neither of us has had a partner in the last 6 months.  I know I'm taking his word and he's taking mine (although my blog sort of backs it up), but it just feels like being 'fluid bonded' is too fast for something like that--as fast as everything is going.)

But he likes my "young girl" and he likes my "power woman" (as he calls it)--even though he hasn't seen the power woman as much as the young girl.

Maxearnest said something really interesting:  some women have submissive tendencies, but my bifurcation means that instead of having submissive tendencies, my young girl is just purely submissive.  (And she doesn't really have angst about it.  She just is.)  So, in a weird, bizarre way, it is actually simpler than someone who is like 70% submissive, but it isn't divided into this public/private selves.  I thought that was interesting.  (It also may explain why the ex said I was the most submissive woman he'd ever met.)

The thing that is quite different here is that Maxearnest knows my angst and has totally embraced it.  He has never been annoyed with me for having angst.  He's been patient, and danced.  And now that my angst has been taken seriously and said "no-you aren't crazy and yes, I will take care of those things" she is sort of dancing into the sidelines.  It is odd that my public-power-woman is the side that needs reassurance.  My young girl feels safe and seen.  It is almost like Maxearnest appreciated the angst that kept me safe, and now he will keep me safe.

Maxearnest has seen less of my power woman than probably any man I've been involved with--my power woman doesn't really skype.  But because he has had concern for her concerns, my public side isn't demanding more attention.  I seem quite happy to just be the young side with him.  I'm sure when we meet, it will be different--in public, I will primarily be my public persona.  But right now, my public side is acquiescing more than I am used to having that side accede.

I know, there are probably  things I don't know about.  I know there is a chance that I will get to Iceland and Maxearnest and I won't click for whatever reason. Maxearnest said a 20% chance, and that sounds about right.  And I'll spend at least a day crying in a youth hostel, and then force myself to go hike along the volcano or take a horseback ride tour, or something.  And I'll be the bluest gal in Iceland, but I'll pick up the pieces and try this crazy treasure hunt again.  But, deep down, something feels right.  I don't have this fear that something I do will fuck it up in an irreversible way.  If this is meant to work, we'll find a way to make it work.

I do have to say, though, without angst, I have less to write about.  Angst is, I think, what has made my blog interesting.  Without angst, I may just have to report on what I had for lunch.