I’m feeling a bit … lathargic. Feeling almost like I’m being led about - and haven’t yet made the correct assessment of the situation. Haven’t looked thru everything - weighed every possibility - haven’t determined whether or not it is safe to go forward - or if I should just “dig in my heels” and stay back a bit until I’m ready to proceed.

I realized in Anthropology class the other day that I am indeed - that mule I have been fascinated and almost obsessed with for the past couple of days. I don’t know how it happened - but I’m likening myself to one of those old blues singers who sings about their acres of land and their nice Mule named Bessie. I identify with both the singer and the Mule. Which gives me a bit to worry about.

School is fascinating. I haven’t quite wrapped my head around my schedule yet, though I’m starting to understand the time restraints I have now that classes have resumed for me. I’m delighted for the … distraction (?) - and annoyed by the distraction at the same time. I tend to be a bit of an escape artist - content to lay in bed for long periods of time when I feel overwhelmed; peeking out of the covers only when things slow down.

I found out that Mules often dig in their heels, too. But when it comes time for them to perform - they carry men and women of all sizes and shapes - down winding cascading roads - so that they can sit at the bottom of canyons and delight in nature for a bit. Sure footed. Determined. Precise. Self Preserving. Able to leap higher than horses in a single STANDING bound. Half ass - half horse - and unable to multiply. Yup. The more I think about Mules - the more I love them. If there was a stuffed mule somewhere I’d buy it. If I could choose my spirit animal like Native Americans often do - mine would be the Mule - and people would later look back at my life and try to understand why my spirituality came from an animal formed by an imperfect union and as a result rendered sterile.

I’d tell them if I could that I find Mules absolutely beautiful and tragically misunderstood. Stubborn as a mule? Why stubborn and not - CAREFUL? I read something on line last night that said if a human leads the mule carefully and tries to convince the mule - the mule will eventually give in. If the human pulls and yanks the mule with out giving the mule time to really assess things for himself - then the mule resists. I can’t help but think of the billions of times people have tried to get me to do something that if I’m not ready to do them - I resist. I pull back. Kick hard and accurately. Yelp. Dig in my heels. But when I know it’s safe to proceed - I promise you… I will go down that canyon - carrying you safely with me. Just like Bessie. LOL. How is that for poetic?

Enough. Sometimes I think I speak in code - and that very few (if any one) really understands what the fuck I’m trying to say. I just have a lot on my mind these days - and I’m trying to figure out who I am. It’s like I’m being plugged in for long periods of time - and my batteries don’t have a chance of wearing down before - ZAP - they are energized again. I’m overly stimulated. And it’s not the kind of stimulation I’d prefer. I need an escape - a refuge for a bit. I need a bit of play - a hand to nuzzle and someone to pet my coat (lol!). I need a chance to absorb everything that has happened the past few days - commit it to memory - compartmentalize things so that later on I can pull it out and apply it towards something (hopefully something!) useful. I need to know that I - in all my half assed ways - can be understood and appreciated for all the things I have excelled in (beyond my “creator’s” expectations) and understood for all the ways I fall short of his expectations.

Is this what growing up means? It’s gonna be a long and complicated trip.

Geography is incredible. I don’t know where I was the first time I learned it - or even if I did learn it - but um… I’m learning a lot of really cool facts. Like what a gulf is. What a bay is. How a Sea is different than an Ocean and how a Mountain Range is different than a Mountain. Today while doing my map assignement that I briefly remember doing about 5 years ago… I realized that *gasp* ENGLAND was an ISLAND.

I know I know.

No, really. I know.

I know what you are thinking. CeCe - how incredibly DAFT you are! You silly little knicker. It was a point of absolute incredible clarity for me, though. I was the epitomy of why whole countries hate us. Now, I may be smart in regards to certain things - but newsflash - when it comes to Geography, Numbers and Science I am a complete and total boob. A boobie. A big fat drooping titty of stupidity.

I’m not saying it to be mean to myself - I really am not. I understand my limitations. I understand that no matter how brilliant I claim to be - sometimes I am rather stupid. I say things with out thinking a lot of the time. I fly off at the handle. I make decisions based on how they will feel at any given moment - except for the next day (sigh) and I can be very headstrong even when I know that I am wrong. Which I believe is the biggest indication of stupidity ever.

I’m also quite silly when it comes to learning from past mistakes. I stayed up all nite on Friday in order to do my homework - and then when I did sleep I got up again so that I could sleep all the way thru the nite. Instead I tossed and turned - and then fell asleep when the sun came up. THEN I cat napped all day until I had to finally leave the house for a breath of fresh air. I felt lousy. I had made it thru 8 hours of lecture at the university. 1 lecture on how England is indeed an Island - and how Japan, though not as heavily populated, has the most people per square mile. After that brilliant morning - I went to another 4 hour lecture where I learned that A horse and Donkey can mate - and have a MULE. But the MULE is sterile. WTF? This apparently has some true meaning and revelance to Darwin’s theory of Evolution - but I still don’t get it. I don’t get it. A horse and Donkey can fuck. The Donkey (I think?) can have a baby. The baby survives but can never have a baby of their own? Huh? Ok. I know that a human being can not mate with another species. This is apparent because well - I have never heard of a human having a half human half animal child. So that makes sense to me. We’re different species, right? But a DONKEY and A HORSE can mate AND have a mule and… I just don’t get it. I just don’t. For 4 hours I tried to get my head around this whole thing. In between naps. I couldn’t help it. After I left that whole Mule Donkey Horse dilemma - and realized just how horrible it was to be thinking about horsedonkey sex while sleep deprived I swore never to do it again.

It’s now 4:24AM. I’m doing it again!!!! Again I’m up way past my bedtime. It’s just - insane.

I read once somewhere that the definition of stupidity (or foolishness) is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

I think there is probably only 2 people who know just how revelant that somewhat butchered by me statement is.

I gotta go to bed. Blimey.

Sometimes the women I train at the gym are absolute drama queen bitches. I mean that affectionately. I love women -or I should say - I love OLDER women. Women that are around my age are extremely … catty and competitive. But I find that women around 30-60 are pretty relaxed and know that I’m pretty much not a threat to them. Unless their husbands are calling up niteflirt, that is. Then it might be a completely different story. But for the sake of my post - let’s say that their husbands are NOT on my customer list.

My job is to help motivate them (the women at the gym not their husbands). We talk about things that really make us happy inside. We may bitch and moan about diet and fads and the latest what shouldn’t you eat because you’ll die food item - but secretly we are getting moist in our little yoga pants. Trust me on this. Nothing makes a woman happier than talking about food and diets. Try it out next time you’re on a date.

Tonight was like any other nite. I was working by myself in the circuit area - and I was helping a few ladies train. It’s up to me to know instantly what is good for abdominal core work (planks planks planks!) and what can I do about strengthening my thighs? (squats squats squats) and CeCe - I have a lot of pain in my lower back … what can I do to help myself out here? (CORE CORE CORE). Most of the women are really quite sweet though - and honestly just need a little ass kicking to get them moving. It’s up to me then - to move with them. This usually means in a 4 hour shift I’ve done about 50 planks, 100 squats (stationary and weighted ones) - 200 lunges - and I don’t know - a trillion and a half fricken abdominal work outs. Hey - I have to lead by example, don’t I?

As I was leading a rather chatty woman thru her advance work out - a few ladies decided to talk about an incident that had happened at a local school. Apparently there is a … predator on the loose. He has a rather unique approach as well. Talking to the girls about crime watches and needing their help identifying potential drug lords in the area or something. Pretty damn original - but kinda scary outside of the scope of NF and fantasy play. (watches some of her callers writing down the scenario). Ok. So seriously…it kind of freaked me out - even though I was trying to (of course) find an angle that would work, too. I’m not gonna lie. Ok - but THENNNN… a few of the ladies started to freak me out. Told me that in the very area that I work there were a few reported rapes - and that I shouldn’t be walking to my car alone that evening. Alrighty then. I started to freak out. They went into detail - and I won’t supply it here - I just can’t do it. but it just so happened that my parents went out of town this weekend - and gave me explicit instructions to lock up - sleep in the main bedroom - let the dog out of the crate - loc the doors but leave the lights on - etc. etc. All of these instructions came flying back to me while the ladies went on and on about the horrid crimes that had been going on in the area.

Why do women find the need to do this? I mean - they know I’m just a sweet little thing that couldn’t really hurt a fly physically - anyways - and they are going to throw this at me in the middle of the evening? Just bitchy drama queens, I swear. I just stood there counting off the reps and staring at this lady like - “what the ffffffff??!!” while she was talking. She sort of caught herself - and said something lame-o like, “Oh, CeCe - you’ll be fine. You are parked next to the door, right?” No you mean bitter old woman - I am parked on the other side of the huge parking lot under the light that has been out for the past decade - thankyouverymuch!

Now - I had alot of homework to do last night. And thankfully I have lots of people I can call to help me with homework. LOL. But after my tutor did his duty and abandoned me - and after one of my best friends zonked out, too - I found myself - ALONE. (dum dum duuuuuuuum)

It is now about 4:40AM - and I’ve purposely stayed on as long as possible. I’m not sleeping tonight - because I’m sure that when I do some maniac is going to bust into my house - feed the so not a watch dog Willis a chicken wing or something - go to the Master Bed room and …

I couldn’t sleep under such conditions. I just couldn’t.

I’ll sleep later after school. Speaking of which - I have about 10 more pages to read of my Anthropology before 7:30AM - so I better get going. I do need to stop at Starbucks for the largest possible coffee ever, too - or I’ll never stay awake for the 8 hours that is required of me at school. Wish me luck.

Oh - and I’ll be up again all nite (after I sleep all day) tomorrow. My parents aren’t going to be back until later Sunday. I sure hope they don’t feel guilty when they come home to find me missing or …

I’m teasing. I’m sure I’ll be fine…

But I am just a tad bit freaked out.

I’m literally wondering sitting here shaking my head at myself. Why am I sitting here writing another post - not even 24 hours after my last one. Or has it been longer? No - it was less than 24 hours. Not only am I about to write this post - but I also started to write a response in a forum - but reeled myself back. I don’t write in forums because I would prefer to write in here. I don’t write on forums anymore - because I really had issues with addiction when it came to those things - and found myself not eating breakfast at a table - but over the keyboard of my computer - and um. That just ain’t healthy - I don’t care how many people do it all the time. Not only do crumbs fall out of your keyboard if you tip it upside down - but really. How bad is it that you … (or me) won’t give yourself (myself) enough time to sit at a table and eat a damn meal. Sooner or later you just need time for yourself. Just to regain your composure - or to remember who you are and that your job or your kids or your car pool or your classes or whatever doesn’t define who you are. I swear - I really need to take myself out to dinner one of these days - and to a movie afterwards. I like myself alot of the time - and it’s been awhile since I told me that.

Wait - I don’t have time for this. What I said before was mentioned so I could say this: Writing here is my time. My little date with myself. My little check in and see how I’m doing and if I need anything. My dock that I get to unload on - and move on after a moment.

Today I realized while talking to my friend, Kylie (sorry girl - no time to link ya) was that not only could I multi task - I HAD to multi task. I would talk to her on the phone - while driving myself to school to exchange a book - and then drive myself to the ORTHO appointment I totally spaced on that was scheduled at 10:00 but rescheduled by yours truly for 11:00. It was 10:30AM and I really knew it wasn’t going to happen. I would have to go after the appointment - provided I found the receipt. I didn’t have time to do it at any other time. I had a specified time to do it - and nagging me in the back of mind is the fact that I really should run and make a payment for my car, too, before they pick it up (and my new Anthropology book) and tow it away to “youcan’tpayyourbillsontime” land. I’m wondering - when and how did this happen? Yeah - I’ve been a bit pre-occupied lately. Yeah - I’ve been having long conversations and yeah - I’ve been obsessing - and yeah yeah yeah. But more than that - in the last 2 weeks - as I predicted it would - life happened. School happened. Work happened. Boyfriends happened. Disagreements with boyfriends happened. Friendships happened. Friendships “un”happened. Life - continued to move - and I forgot to move…for a moment.

I have put this off long enough. Here is my work schedule - the one I will not abandon unless there is some dire emergency or another appointment with the ortho. By the way - that Ortho appointment. Hell. Complete hell. 30 minutes - and it was by far equal (if not greater than) to the pain that I experienced when I first got these damn braces on in the first place. Power chains to close a gap that has been caused by the expander in my mouth. So not attractive. So NOT attractive. My lips feel like they are poking out at least an inch further than they were before (braces just make mouths look funny anyways) - and now in addition to looking like something from the anthropology book I just purchased at the bookstore - I’m in so much pain that I actually felt like fainting at the Ortho’s office. When the assistant apologizes before she puts them on - you know it’s going to be bad. And fuckinhellwhylordjesuswhy are my teeth moving. I mean - I was brushing my teeth and I could feel my teeth MOVE. They feel lose. Sometimes when they hit together they shift. Then they kinda click back. Not only is it extremely gross - it’s also fuckin’ freaking me out. And it hurts. Did I make that clear enough, yet? IT HURTS BAD! Yeah - I’ve taken advil - and no it hasn’t kicked in yet. Fuckin teeth. Who needs them. If only I hadn’t had such an oral problem as a child - (sucking my thumb) this would never have happened. Damn me.

My schedule/availability for the next 7 weeks:

Monday: 10:00AM - 2:30PM, 9:30PM - 2:30AM
Tuesday: 10:00AM - 4:00PM, 9:30PM - 2:30AM
Wednesday: 10:00AM - 2:30PM, 9:30PM - 2:30 AM
Thursday: 10:00AM - 5:30PM, 9:30PM - 2:30 AM
Friday: 10:00AM - 1:30PM, 11:00PM - 4:00AM (or as long as I stay awake - call at your own risk…)
Saturday: 10:00PM - 3:00AM (or later - depending…)
Sunday: 5:00PM - 12:00AM (or later - depending)

Please note - that these times are really dependent on other appointments, too. I’m trying to work around school, homework, and my other job, too. I can be reached for appointments if time is given to me to respond. I may not always be at the computer - so best to reach me for possible appointments 2 days in advance.

Whew. 15 minutes before work starts - and I need to get dressed in appropriate attire.

Talk to you later tonight…

I have always been the woman/chick/girl who has preferred to give than to receive. I give a man head. I do not receive “head” or cunniligus back. I was asked about this a few nights ago - and for the first time - I kinda acted as though I didn’t understand it myself. I played dumb. I played that dumb blonde act - and skirted around the subject - knowing full well why I hate it - and exactly why I resist it.

With my last boyfriend I use to do a dance. He would go down there - and I would slither behind him. He would pry my legs open - and I would turn my body - half joking that I might break his neck. He would open me up and I would hold my breath. He would start to lick - and I would start to cry. He told me more than once, “stop running”. I really don’t think that he knew what he was saying - but he was right on. I was running. I was running as fast as I could. Holding my breath and hoping that it would soon end - I would run away in my head, too. Go to other places - not quite to the counting the tiles in the ceiling or doing a grocery list in my head - but fuckin close. Having him down there was - yeah - just too fuckin close.

Most men do not care. I’m not going to pretend that my diary dissertation is going to make it ok for men to accept my giving them head from this moment on. Men - for the most part - do not care… wait - let me … no - forget it! I was going to say “boys” and save some egos/feelings - but I stand by my first instinct. MEN generally do not give a rat’s ass what a girl’s reasons are for giving head and denying access to her “muff” (thanks hmmmmm). They are just excited and pleased as fuck to be getting head from a girl. So I haven’t really had to explain myself. I have had only a few conversations on NF with men who CRAVE being able to eat a woman out. I’m not complaining. Trust me. I’d prefer not to have to pretend in fantasy as well as in reality - so it works for me!

It isn’t about my not knowing how to pleasure myself - or being uptight sexually. Hello. I work for Niteflirt - sexuality central. Even if that is questionable - I do own a hitachi wand. Nothing else needs to be said. Well - maybe a few more things. Before Mr. Hitachi Wand I had a glass dildo bought by the same friend who bought me the wand (thanks Doc!). Before that - I had a rabbit purchased at an adult lingerie party that my friend’s oldest sister held in the trunk of her car. Okay - I had 2 rabbits - and after I broke both of them (yes - I did say broke) - I kinda went with a little pocket rocket type thing. And before all those toys - I just went with what was available. The big sharpie markers (closed cap, please), fingers, showers, pool jets, various vegetables, etc. Ok - it needs to be said. I had a stage where -like a boy - I just wanted to see what would go in there. (with in reason). If it looked promising - I was going to try it - just as I put things in my nose as a child - and in my ear and mouth and basically any orifice. There - I said it. SO it’s not about me not wanting to pleasure myself or get off - or me not knowing how to get off. I’m well versed at it. I do it well. I enjoy it. I enjoy when my customers keep that in mind (that girls like to get off too) and allow me a chance at having a true orgasm now and again. I’m not a prude. Have I made that perfectly clear? Ok then.

Well, CeCe, you might be thinking, you just haven’t had it done right. Ok - now how many variations are there to eating pussy?!? I always thought it was pretty basic. There are two folds and in between there is a little sensitive area called the clit - and that shouldn’t be bit on - as much as you teething men would like to do so. I like things inside of me - so … yeah - a finger (well lubed please) would feel good going in and out - combined with a little bit of flicker flicker on the clit - and licking on the lips. Yeah. That could work. Except when it happens it always feels like to me that the fingers just aren’t as smooth as mine - they reach too far up - pressing against some pee mechanism - and NO it’s not me squirting or ejaculating - it’s me peeing in your face cuz you’re pushing against my bladder! Sometimes the licking turns into this kind of sucking or something - or my little thighs start getting all scratched up - or my legs are getting an awful charlie horse cuz of the spread of my thighs. It just always ends up being uncomfortable - and I’m vocal - but not when it comes to teaching a guy how to eat. I know I know. I should tell him. And I do. I tell him that I don’t like being eaten out. Because, I guess, secretly - to explain it would make it really good, I bet - and then I’d lose some bit of control and “we” can’t have that, can “we”? Sometimes I just pretend to like it - counting down the minutes before the penetration starts.

I told my friend a few days ago that it’s “ouchie”. And I threw it all on the sucking on the clit thing - and only being able to cum so many times and blah blah blah. But ya know what? I sort of lied.

It’s not about the physical ouchie at all. It’s more about the mental ouchie. To have a man between your legs - between a woman’s legs (and I think ALL women must feel a glimmer of this!) is the most intimate thing … ever. It goes - for me - beyond having a guys dick in your mouth - or even having a guy’s dick in your pussy for Christ’s sake. (eeew - I shouldn’t put Christ and pussy in the same sentence. Sorry…) To have a man - in between your legs feels like - feels to me like having a guy face deep in your soul. The closeness to me - at that point is so apparent - where one could be casual about anything else. Maybe it’s just me - but I feel like having a man lick my vagina - is a ticket right into my soul. The thought of bucking into a man’s face - losing all control - is not appealing to me. What “appeals” to me - is having a man lose control with his dick in my mouth. And I didn’t want to say anything to my friend about this - because I knew that just having that thought made me so… damaged, really, ya know?

On NF it works. And that isn’t an insult to all the people I play with on line - but you all know what I mean. Intimacy is limited at best - easily described…(Cherish is a word I use to describe… ) but the physical act of intimacy - beyond the fantasy - is where my vulnerability lays. That’s my kryptonite. That’s my ouchie.

So now you know.