Before I begin - I have to let ya all know that I owe quite a few of you pictures for your 15 minute + calls. I have NOT forgotten. I repeat: I have not forgotten. I will be sending out these pictures by this weekend. I promise. You have my word. I’m surprised that not one of you have emailed me a reminder yet. This isn’t an invite to start now - I pride myself in having some of the more sensible callers around…I’m just surprised at how overly patient alot of you are being. I appreciate that. A little babying of CeCe goes a terribly long way and I shall not take advantage of the extra care you are bestowing on me. Damn - I really liked that last sentence I just wrote. I sounded all prim and proper - like some librarian with her hair piled up into a tight bun and little black rimmed spectacles that wears skirts a bit too tight to totally pull off the whole “prim” look.

Last night I spoke to a friend of mine for a long time. It seems like suddenly I got this whole “job” thing. He said that there are tons of people doing jobs that they don’t necessarily like. Just keep on working because they need to pay bills - and eat - etc. I just started to think that - I don’t know - I got a bit scared. Like I don’t want to live that kind of a life. I want to work and do more than just “exist” to work and pay for things. I want to do something in my life that I enjoy and that trillions of other people can’t do. I want my work to be my passion. I want to feel like if I didn’t do x,y, or z - I would cease to breathe.

I know that there are probably several eyes rolling right now at this post. Maybe thinking I’m FINALLY showing my age - and being age appropriate. Because it’s only someone who is 18 and just starting school that thinks she can actually make a living doing something that “feeds her spirit” or is her “passion” - but ya know - some of my most favorite people in the world are doing jobs that are ALL ABOUT their passion. Are they just freaks of nature?

One of my callers today told me that his passion is music. But for reasons he couldn’t get into at the time - he couldn’t do it anymore and is now doing something totally different. He lit up when he talked about music, though. I could hear it in his voice. And he told me that not doing music anymore for him was like …missing a limb. I feel that way about writing. Like if I was told I couldn’t write anymore - I would just feel … dead and lost inside. He hasn’t even picked up an instrument, I don’t think, for several years - maybe. I don’t know why he would want to do that to himself. I mean - ok - you can’t do music for a living - but you still need to play, don’t you? Isn’t it like breathing? Isn’t that what passion is really about? Feeling something so strongly that in order to breath in - it aches just from the sheer joy of it?

So if you’re reading this, Z, pick up your guitar - or go sit by your piano - and play. Just play and breathe and remember the part about music that wasn’t killing you - but was feeding your spirit and bringing you joy. Have a little homecoming - just you and your instruments - play something first that makes you weep - and then play something that brings you joy - and remember what it’s like to have passion in your life and - I don’t know - embrace it! Cuz I don’t think it’s too late. Music always waits around for us to come back and claim it - like a good friend, it only wants to love you up and have you delight in it/them.

So what’s your passion?

Now that my big bad final is out of the way - and I’m free for about 2 days - Ihave been soaking up all kinds of television that I wasn’t able to indulge in … wait. Why am I lying? I’ve been watching tv - and doing all nighters since the beginning of my classes! But since everyone was away this weekend (I had to stay back cuz of the big bad Final! grrrr) I got to sit around in my panties and watch BAD tv. Really bad tv. Like - the biggest hollywood feuds, and the naughtiest bad girls, and coyote ugly marathon, and… (drum roll please) Maxim’s Top 100 - Most Beautiful Women. *sigh* *double sigh* *triple sigh with drool on the side*!!!! I love looking at beautiful women. I really do. I feel bad for men who can’t look at beautiful men with the same freedom as we women can look at beautiful women. Seriously. I just love looking at a beautiful girl. I’m MOST appreciative - and feel no sense of jealousy or anything ridiculous as that. Maybe it’s confidence - maybe it’s just … I dunno … maturity? (haha). I have only had a few moments of jealousy about pretty women in my life - and that usually happens when a guy is going on and on about a particular kind of woman that I’m not. Like if a guy was going to be talking about his fascination with tall women who played basketball or something - and I was so not that type. I’d start to wonder if maybe he should just go and find himself someone from a woman’s basketball team and stop fucking me, ya know? And yeah - I’ve been with guys who do that. Maybe not aobut a woman who is tall and plays basketball - but more like a woman who has big titties and a huge ass or something.

So anyways - back to Maxim.

I was watching it and all of a sudden - they show right off the bat - number 100. I about came. This woman was so damn beautiful it made my heart just hurt. I kept backing up the dvr on the satellite just so I could stare at her. Luscious lips. Great hair. Olive complexion. Nice boobies. Sweet - almost nerdy demeanor. Incredibly intelligent - I mean I think this girl speaks like 10 languages or something. And she can write in Arabic. Talk about TALENTED!!! (pitter pat pitter pat). I mean - just look at her: OMG! Lawdy lord gawd Almighty! Her name is Noureen DeWulf - and according to Maxim Magazine - she is number 100 of the most beautiful women in … well - I guess in the entire US of A. So I was interested, of course. If she was 100 - then who in the hell was NUMBER UNO? I had to stick around and find out, Didn’t I?!?!

What a disappointment. They didn’t go thru all of them - but they focused on a few. You can always go to Maxim and look at the list yourself, of course - but I find that it is my duty to share with you the news straight away. According to Maxim - LINDSAY LOHAN is the most beautiful woman in the United States Of America. Now in the picture she looks pretty good. But THE MOST BEAUTIFUL? More beautiful than number 100? Come on! I know we all love teens (waves from her desk) - but come on! Has MAXIM lost their damn minds? There are so many more beautiful women in the world other than Lindsay Lohan! Jeez Louise. I’m still upset. I sat and waited for an hour for … LINDSAY LOHAN. I don’t hate the girl. I really don’t. I hate Paris Hilton. Ok. I don’t even hate Paris - she just annoys me. I don’t even hate Lindsay. She doesn’t annoy me - other than her drinking and her hanging out with the wrong crowd and her lack of acting ability. I think she’s probably a nice girl. She needs to stop singing. But she’s okay. I like her fine. But I don’t think she’s more beautiful than … let’s say… Kim Kardashian. Do You?

I thought that I would have the energy to put up my top 10 pretty women in the world - but I just don’t have it in me right now. I’m just annoyed. (lol! I take things way too seriously, right?). Maybe later on I will. I don’t know.

So as not to be a hater - let me just say CONGRATS Lindsay! You’re a fine looking young woman - that I wouldn’t mind fucking with a dildo or two while pulling your hair and calling you “fire crotch”. I’d even invite you to a party or two - but you need to stay away from the booze - and the karaoke machine. I love you, though. Muahz!

I think that I would like to be a talk show host - a radio personality, maybe. I’d have an open forum - a sex type program. I’d take calls from wives, husbands, boyfriends and girlfriends, and we would discuss fantasies and how best to “deal” with them. We’d talk about the origins of their fantasies - and talk about how realistic it would be to have a safe playing out of those fantasies - with either a professional or a mate/spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/bootycall. I think this would be an absolute BLAST.

Maybe I’ll make a “other” category and offer this on NF. Not a confessional type of listing - but a realistic I have this type of fantasy and want some advice on how best to live with this type of fantasy. Because I realize that there are some fantasies that just beg to be played out - and doesn’t everyone want to know that there is a safe avenue to explore such fantasies?

I’ve always enjoyed thinking about the origins of some fantasies. I know that there are the obvious ones - the preferences that people hold when it comes to choosing their mate/or fuck buddy or whatever. I’m not talking about that type of “fantasy”. I’m talking about the fantasies that lately people have been calling me about. The sissification type fantasies - the being caught doing something wrong - and punished by dressing you up and sending you out into the mall type fantasy. Or the humiliation - or even the very limited physical punishment type fantasies. Don’t you ever wonder where it came from? Those thoughts or ideas or whatever? And when you figure them out - I mean - REALLY trace them back like someone does with a swab of DNA collected inside a cheek - doesn’t it all make total sense and feel sort of - I don’t know - FREEING?

I don’t think that people need to be afraid of these fantasies anymore. I don’t think that it has to be this bad thing you carry around like some … bright red letter glued to your backside. Unless that is your thing, of course. *wink*.

When I was younger, someone I looked up to - a friend of my very best friend at the time, actually, told me that he wanted to “protect” me. He went on and on about how intelligent I was - and how special I was - and how pretty I was. He absolutely adored me - and I could tell - even when I hadn’t quite put the words to that type of … attention. He often would expose himself to me - but continue talking to me like he hadn’t done anything wrong. I would feel torn. I would want to look - but would glance away - and try to continue our conversation. Often times when I looked up from his penis that was just hanging out for the world and CeCe to see, he would look at me like, “aha! I caught you.” but he NEVER let on that he really caught me for reals. I started to make sure that I would be alone with him for these types of games to continue. And they did.

Another situation and another adult later: My father had an associate pastor of his church. We would have over night retreats where we would go to colleges and things. There were always lots of talks - varying from cults, to sexual awareness, to eating disorders, to … picking the right college (of course!). We would sleep in church basements - all of us kids - boys and girls - and our “chaperones”. This associate would often come over to our sleeping bags and give us little backrubs - and eventually his hands would venture to the sides of our bodies where he would “accidently” brush up against our breasts. I still remember the feel of his breath on my cheek - coming out in little gasps/spurts of moist warm air. After he left he would always “apologize” - say that he couldn’t help himself and somehow always insinuate that we had led him to do it because of how sweet we were - or whatever. He would ask us for our forgiveness - but it always felt to me as though I had been partially responsible. I was not scared - of him. I was scared more about what type of power I had over these men - and what would happen if I didn’t find some way to bottle it up or tame it or whatever.

So flash forward to today. Is it any surprise that I enjoy fantasies about my older sister’s boyfriend who I “seduce” and who later apologizes but always in a way as to suggest I “made him do it”? Is it any wonder that I have some of my best orgasms while thinking of a righteous holy person suddenly giving up the fight of celebacy and fucking me furiously? Is it any wonder that I enjoy fantasies where men expose themselves to me all the while acting like they aren’t showing me anything - while their penis’ jut out from under their robe? And wouldn’t it just make sex that much more enjoyable if I had the ability to talk to my mate about these types of fantasies - or have encounters where I could play them out in a safe, responsible way? Or even if I acted on impulses where these situations “arose”?

I don’t have a radio show - and I doubt that I ever will. I don’t think that such a show could even be aired, really, with out major panic breaking out and the thought police coming to shut me down and haul me off to jail - but I like to think that my little account on NF is my contribution to freedom. *shrugs*. I don’t always have a chance to talk about my own little fetishes - but I know a few of my callers (and a few of the new ones I’ve had lately) know when they have struck a chord with me. Their fantasies are the ones I “run” with - their fantasies are the ones that move me - and make it enjoyable to me - and cause me to not be a “victim” of whatever circumstance they put me in - but an active and willing (at least deep down inside!) actress in their play. Their fantasies are the ones that “get me off” - not only physically but mentally as well.

I hope that I continue to get new callers who are able to see that difference in me - and push me to accept and participate in new roles…and I’m continually grateful that my repeat customers are ones that do this automatically - probably with out thinking/knowing about my hidden kinks. I hope that my small price of 1.80 doesn’t deter someone from taking a moment to talk to me about the history of their own fetishes and fantasies. I really want to know. It helps me understand mine that much clearer. It’s not a prerequisite to calling me - but it is a gift when it happens - when it exposes itself … and I glance down for a moment to look and take it in - before continuing on and act like I didn’t see a thing.

Have a safe a memorable holiday. I shall be around after my final on Saturday for the entire weekend including Monday.

I’ve made some headway. Actually - by 3:00AM I will have made TONS of headway!!! Yay CeCe! I’ve broke thru whatever it is that had me stuck and I’m back to normal again. Forgive my momentary lapse of what I like to call “writer’s hell”. Or maybe it’s the part of me that just thinks TOO much. I figured out… well… let me just start at the beginning and I’ll get to my REVELATION in due time. This is gonna be a long post. Get comfy.

So I cleaned - I did laundry - I took out the trash - I worked out - and I while I was vacuuming I started to feel not so heavy and a bit light hearted again. Whew. I knew it was the mess - I just knew it. It was preventing me from thinking. And you can view “mess” however lightly (or heavily) you want to.

I decided on what puppy I’m going to get. And my family is putting in their say - and I want to tell them that hey - I’m paying for the little bundle of joy myself - somehow - so their little say really is just a courtesy I’m extending. I mean - I’ll need a babysitter now and then and it will be nice to be able to rely on them for at least that much. Yes? I’ll be getting a Malti. And due to the bestiality fear that runs amuck on niteflirt - no button has been created yet. I need to write to the powers that be and ask them how best to go about making a donation button. Until then - feel free to call and know that your orgasm (and mine, too, if I’m lucky) is helping to contribute. As if you needed any more incentive to call, right? lol. I’m hoping that around my bday (November 24th) I’ll have the new addition to the family. I’ll need about 3 grand to pay for the vet, puppy, and a few necessities to start off with. Yes - I’m talking about bows for the little tuft of hair on top of his/her pretty little head, a sweater or two, and some other puppy necessities.

I realized that since the 15th of this month I have had about 10 customers who have qualified for a free pic (or two or three). I sent them out along with a thank you note this afternoon. I actually was a little tiny bit late - but all in all - I did it! I followed thru and a few of you will be happy to find some great pics in your email. Maybe you didn’t know I was running a special this month (May 15 - June 15). Well - NOW you know!

I have a final on Saturday that I need to prepare for. Tomorrow I’ll be doing calls and typing up my notes and studying. I work at the gym for the next 2 days so I’ll be probably having another all niter - but - we’re really not surprised, right? I ended up getting another A (100 percent, actually) on my last project - so I’m pretty much assured an A if I can at least get a B on this test. I’ll be striving to get an A on this test just because - well - who wants to “settle”? After my final I’ll be looking at my schedule for summer classes. I wasn’t going to take an art class this year - but I decided while I was cleaning up that you know what? I deserve to take a few classes that just feed me. As in FEED my spirit. I just need to find a way - need to find time - and need to just do it. As long as I take my other 2 classes this summer I can afford a bit of time just for myself. Plus I was able to sell a few of my art pieces last year and made close to $500 bucks - which for me was a treat. It was unexpected - and nice. It’s not alot - but hey - if I can make a few pieces to keep and a few more to sell this year - that’s (I’m bad at math so hang on while I figure this out…) 1/6th (right?) of what I’ll need for my dear little Maltese. So I’ll get to feed my spirit and feed my daugher or son. Sounds like an opportunity I can’t pass up!

Ok - so - I was stuck. But I think I was just a bit burnt out. I was working and working and I wasn’t getting anything to feed my spirit. I think everyone needs someone or something that just feeds them, ya know? Something that just motivates them to try a bit harder - and push themselves a bit more. I’m a person of meaning - so much that it bugs the shit out of me to just exist for the sake of existing. I was getting stuck in some sort of schedule and expectation type of merry go round that wasn’t working for me. It’s not that I need to have drama or angst to move me forward or anything - but I do need to have some LIFE - some unexpected surprises - and some joy - just some unadulterated (sheer, simply, absolute) joy. Trust me when I say - I’m a much happier person - and will continue to be - with this recipe in place.

So there we have it. I’m back - coming back - heading back. Whatever.

And before I forget…whoever was so kind as to send me my latest movies off my wish list - thank you thank you thank you so much much much! It’s kinda funny looking at the titles after this post: Happy Feet, Little Miss Sunshine, Holiday… It’s like my secret summer santa knew before I did what I needed. In addition to the not one but 2 ipods I got when mine was taken so horribly from me, my great writing books, and Milo the 1st, the rings, earrings, and necklaces, in addition to lipgloss and eyeshadow galore - these past few months have been a treat and then some. Thanks to everyone for cheering me and sending me tokens of your appreciation and adoration! *muahz!*

I know that sometimes I tend to write about things that are “deep” or “too grown up” for my age - or what people perceive is appropriate for my age. I know that I have a sort of personality that lends itself to brooding and moping about like some tortured suicidal poet that writes in all small letters and stuff. Part of this is just because I tend to think that way and has nothing at all to do with intelligence, you know - unless you perceive intelligence as EMOTIONALLY tuned in or whatever.

I don’t know where it came from. Well - I have a few ideas - some of which I can’t exactly type out for all the world to see. What I can say is that I have always been more verbal than most kids my age - and I grew up with doctors and psychiatrists and ministers most of my life. They don’t talk about the mall - and shopping and frivilous things like that. When I go to see my grandfather he asks me what I think of human nature for crying out loud. When I was quite a bit younger I asked my mother a sexually related question and got a book about sexual choices and masturbation and how being gay was an okay choice. I was still in highschool at the time of the book and was mortified. When I became “a woman” as she called it, I got taken out to dinner with my whole family where they celebrated the new “chapter” of my life. My brothers looked at me from across the table at Perkins and commented that I didn’t look a damn bit different than the day before. THAT is the family that I grew up in. When I was in Grade School my report cards often read like this: Handwriting - Satisfactory Works well with other children - Needs improvement - a bit over sensitive … Verbal Skills - Above Average….

I think it’s that other type of intelligence that makes me pretty good at my job. I “get” it when people call me up and ask for certain things. It’s not that I just “read” people well - I kinda “feel” people well, too. I think that is what makes me good at roleplay - and fantasy type things. I’m inquisitive - and I look beyond the surface and get to the (ahem…) MEAT of things. That’s just who I am. Some people like it - and some people run away screaming. I’m trying to be “casual” about things, too - and give the occaisional breathe heavy and suck your dick type of calls - but they are not my favorite. I would rather build some type of relationship and then it means more and is better for both of us. But I think I’m going places I didn’t particularily want to go in this post…

So this may be a bit “over” some people’s heads - but … it’s just the way I am…

I’m STUCK. Like I feel like there is something that I should be doing - and I just can’t motivate myself to actually do it. It’s more than the pile of clothes that has again found itself on several chairs in my room - about 2 feet away from their rightful destination/place/home. It’s more than my garbage that should have been emptied … a day ago. It’s more than my desk that has pens litering it - and several pictures I printed out for my geneolgy project that was due and completed several days ago. It’s even more than the classes for summer I have to/should have/ need to register for. It’s like I’m stuck. Like something exciting needs to happen or is about to happen - and I’m just blocking it. I feel I need something positive. A new passion or something. NOT a boyfriend (though that would be a nice distraction) but some goal that I should be rooting for. This Stuck feeling kept me up till about 7:00AM this morning watching old movies over and over again. Finally I just had to force myself to lay down and close my eyes and “listen” to the movie so that maybe I would fall asleep. I certainly was tired enough to do so - just my insides were unsettled and …. stuck.

Arg.

I have a few hours before school. I’m going to start cleaning up a bit around here and see if that helps unearth something.

Ok. I’m done. I’ll be back to talking about puppies, orgasms, and lipgloss in the next couple of days. Thanks for indulging me on some persecuted teen angst and drama. Back to your regularly scheduled program…