My plan with this schedule is to work it religiously (and I’ve been really good so far, haven’t I? Even logging in a bit earlier than planned this evening, and staying a bit later both this afternoon and last night, too!) and then after a few weeks rethink things and maybe tweak hours as needed in order to ensure I’m working the best times for my customers. Thank you to those of you who put in your bids for times you’d like to see me on. I really do take that into account. There may be times that I don’t have the option of signing on for a full 2-3 hours, but may be able to log in for 30 minutes just for you, so your requests are not in vain. Let’s give this a whirl and see where we land, k?

So here is my realization. I realized a couple of things. One is with this new schedule and way of conducting my business. When I set aside time just to do business related things, then all of a sudden I’m ready to buckle in and have fun. My “work” doesn’t follow me into dinner time and school studying time and leisure time, etc. I feel fresh and renewed because I’m present and “with it”. It’s a really good thing. And what doesn’t get done during those hours, doesn’t get done during those hours. Maybe the following day I’ll adjust my schedule an hour to allow time to get caught up. But the secret I found is really setting aside the time and being kind to myself and as a result, I get to be good to you because I’m not frazzled and doing trillions of things at once. Just nod like you understand what I’m saying. lol!

Ok – the other realization has nothing to do with niteflirt. It happened a few nights ago. I was doing some research on this project I’m thinking about doing because I saw a need and I think that I need to fill that need. So I was checking on line to see what was available already and found myself looking through bumper stickers. Of course I ran to the Obama section where I found Pro Obama stickers and Anti Obama stickers. This was not the big surprise. The big surprise was, as I was reading through these bumper stickers, I couldn’t believe that there were people who felt so negative about something I felt so positive about. Ok – in telling this I’m aware that I’m sounding like a moron, but it’s deeper than just realizing that someone has a different opinion than you. It was like something clicked HARD for me. All of a sudden I got what people must be thinking of me when I’m so strongly FOR something that they are so AGAINST. “Is she out of her f’n mind?” “Is she an idiot? How the hell can’t she see what is happening?” “She always seemed like such a smart girl to me.” Etc. That’s what people who don’t think like me must be thinking of me. So it dawns on me the other day that wow. People might have just as much a right to their opinion (and I’m saying this with out paying them lip service, but actually meaning it…) as I do of mine. And maybe if I stop the criticism and judgment of people who think differently, I might be in a position of hearing what they are saying. And if I hear what they are saying (if they can say it in a way that would reflect their seeing my position as valid in the same way I would…) then maybe the attitudes and the ego and the whatever else would float away an there would be some, or we could maybe try to reach some, common ground.

Is it possible? Did I finally “get” something some of you have been alluding (I used it in the right place this time!!) to?

Anyway. Just some random things that go through CeCe’s mind in the middle of the night.

See you tomorrow. Remember– 3:00ish – till my evening appt shows up. Probably will be some time around 6:30/7:00 PM. I will try to log in after 11:00PM tomorrow, but I may be too exhausted to. I have writing group and sometimes I’m ready to just go to bed after and dream of phrases and clauses.

I can also tell you that I decided, while apparently impaired on some illicit and highly addictive drug, to sign up for an online class and a half.  The half is a class I signed up for to assist me in succeeding in my online class, and the other 1 online class is Health.  And yes, I’m learning about drugs currently.  Illicit ones.  And Tobacco (why didn’t anyone tell me how horrible that shit is for you?  I’ll thank you in 30 years when the risk of me developing lung cancer returns to ‘normal’.  Shesh!  Ever heard of TOUGH LOVE, readers?!).  I learned about penis’ and vaginas last week and was quite taken aback by a rather large ink drawing of a vulva. I had no idea. (makes a mental note to bring hand mirror to bed with her this evening).  Pretty damn interesting.  And I’m a bit more familiar with testes and prostrates, too.  I’d be happy to explain and demonstrate with any of my callers.  All fun aside – this class is truly kicking my ass worse than my nazi trainer at my gym.  Every other day I have to have a chapter read, a quiz taken, and a paper written on some message board where typical students write 3 paragraphs to 10 questions, but CeCe, the over achiever maximum, writes a paragraph PER question, complete with correct citing and … well… punctuation.  For the most part. Then on every Sunday, which is suppose to be a day of rest, football, and relaxation – we have a 75 point test on the chapters we covered during the week.  I’m pulling an A right now in that class – but if I don’t start acing some tests again soon I will be in a bit of a panic.  And even though health isn’t my major and who cares if I get a "B" anyway – I still want to get a good grade in this class because it’s with in my ability to do so. (Eyes her medication with extreme resentment).  I remember the days when I would drop out of that class by now.  Damn it all.  So because of my keen ability to procrastinate like no other, I’m usually reading and writing like an idiot up until 11:59PM the day the assignments are due.  So let’s just say for now that Wednesdays & Fridays are pretty much fucked until around midnight as far as calls are concerned. Even though the tests are all open book, the tests are harder than they would be if I were in a traditional classroom.  30 pages of material, and my instructor will find at least 5 questions that require Google assistance.  Yes, I’m serious. I have a few more weeks of this madness and then the real madness will start when Spring Semester begins.  While I’m only taking a few classes – one of those classes is a Math class.  I’m taking applications for tutors now.  Must be available for last minute questions and must be immune to serious temper tantrums and other disruptive acting out behaviors.  Payment is my happiness.  School costs went up – I can’t afford to pay you…I’ll come to your office and maybe we can work out some other payment arrangements (enter porn music track here).  Speaking of which…

I’ve been busy with THAT situation, too.  Last I heard they will be contacting him and bringing him in for questioning.  Great.  All of a sudden this state got REALLY fuckin small.  I really don’t want to be mentioned in this meeting, and I’m sure I will be.  I don’t understand what questions need to be answered but the more they drag this along into some g.d. Perry Mason type thing, the more I feel like I did something to warrant this – because in order to ask him the question, wouldn’t there then need to be an acceptable answer that would be good enough for "them" to keep him on board?  I’m so not happy about that.  At all.  If you all don’t know what I’m talking about – sorry.  I’m sure you can deduce what is going on from my other posts but because now I don’t know if I’m going to be needing counsel I should probably keep my mouth shut about it.  I can just see it now: CeCe – is this your blog?  Are these some of your fantasies?  Did you write this story about having sex with a Professor for a better grade?  What do you mean, fantasy?  This seems pretty REAL to me.  Did you show Professor Assholewhoshouldn’tbenamed this website?  Are you SURE, CeCe?  Maybe this is the reason for his comment on your paper.  He knew YOU would understand what he was saying, because you DO understand what he is saying, don’t you, CeCe?  Are you crying because of remorse?  Guilt?  Why don’t we just pretend this never happened and just go about our business.  You DID get an A after all.  Yeah.  All this and more goes through my head in regards to this fucked up situation.  He’s ruined a perfectly good fantasy, too.  I’ll hate him forever for that!

blah.

I’m vaguely aware that I’m working out most of my frustrations at the gym these days.  My newest obsession? Spin class.  I went the first time, limped out on wobbly legs and I was hooked.  I’m going to a spin class tomorrow today so I should really be going soon.  My goal is by the end of the week to go 3 times a week.  It’s good cardio and it kicks my ass.  What can I say?  I enjoy the challenge and I enjoy the burn.  Tiffy got me an early … how should we explain it, Tiffy? An early Valentines present and when I get it programmed (soon, Tiffy, I promise!) it will show me exactly how badly that class kicks my ass, but I heard you can burn up to 700 calories in an hour – easily.  People said that the class was better than sex and after taking it 2 times now, I can honestly say that spin class is better than sex.  The seat is hard – you get totally wet, it feels so good it hurts, and it lasts longer than most sex I’ve had.  Oh – and it comes (no pun intended) with a great soundtrack most of the time.  The best part is when you’re done you can just get up and leave with no questions asked, no awkward silence, and you don’t have to figure out what to do with the wet spot/s.   Though I do have to say (to be fair) most of the online sex I get is much better than spin class. I just don’t get it enough (and who’s fault is that, CeCe?) I know I know…

Final thoughts?  I’m sorry I haven’t been on as much as I would like.  I will be logging in and keeping a better schedule. I have been on for a few hours here and there but you gotta call me or make an appointment as soon as you see me peaking my little head up; the last few days I’ve been on a power getting to know you calls that totaled over 10 hours in just 2.5 days.  Although my ‘husband’ JK will not be contacting me that extensively over the next few weeks, I do have other lovers (ooooh – that sounds so sexy and grown doesn’t it?) who I speak to for long periods of time.  A quick review: If I’m on ALERTS that means that I probably will pick up if I’m awake.  If you see me on AWAY you can certainly arrange calls.  If you see I’m BUSY, you can make an appointment to be next in line up to a specified number of hours.  If you have written me a note to see if I’m really AVAILABLE and you see that I’m on, or if you have a particular fantasy you want me to review before you call – please give me a call and let me know you’ve written me a note.  Sometimes I’m away from my computer but totally able to take calls and AVAILABLE.  I’ll comp you the minute it takes for you to tell me to check my email for your fantasy.  Mike and … there is one other person but I don’t have my notes with me:  I haven’t forgotten about your pic requests and will do so in the next few days.  I seriously didn’t have time to make this post AND find the picture I wanted to send you.  I haven’t forgotten though and thank you for your patience. 

Um … I think that is it.  I mean – there is a whole lot more – but I think that is sufficient.  Look for me tomorrow after I find feeling in my thighs – sometime in the afternoon.  I’m going out to dinner with a girlfriend and won’t be back until later Saturday evening so if you don’t see me in the afternoon look for me definitely after 11:00PM for sure.  Not sure what is going on on Sunday.  Oh – I have to do some work for my other online class, but I’ll try to hurry it on up so we can play a bit. Drop me a note if you want to request a specific time so you can catch me. Until we talk again…

Translation: Please don’t call me up and ask me jack shit about politics, religion, or money. I guess those are the smoking guns of conversations. There are a few exceptions to the rule, and I’m embarrassed to state one of the reasons, but for the sake of a post – let me just put it all out on the line. The exceptions are this:

1. If you really want to hear about my opinion on any of the aforementioned topics, please go ahead and ask me. It’s your dime. We can talk about abortion, the pope, ANDDDD McCain’s new running mate all nite for $1.87/minute. No problemo.
2. If you know me like the back of your hand, work for a certain politicians campaign (looks at RockStarBadAss and wonders how he’s doing…you have your work cut out for you, sweets. Make ‘mama’ proud!!) and want to dish about certain speeches, commercials and the like, then we can talk because we’re not going to argue. We can talk about abortion, the pope, ANNNNNNDDD McCain’s new running mate (who just looks like a woman who would have kinky F’n sex with her hubby, don’t she? That little Miriam Librarian Act doesn’t fool me for one minute! God Bless her kinky schoolmarm ass) all nite for, once again, $1.87/minute. No problemo. Hey, even I like to talk to people who think the same way I do, therefore making me feel that much better for my opinions. Sure, it’s nice to hear differing opinions but only so you can laugh hysterically at how absolutely fucked up “they” are for thinking the way “they” do, right!?

Any Questions? Good. Next topic of conversation.

I absolutely LOVE my English class. I love love love love it! I’m so jazzed with my teacher and I’m even happier that he has us keeping a journal for the class. Part of our grade will depend on our journal entries. Disappointingly I am unable to use these diary entries as that type of homework. I can’t even think of having him call up this line and doing a fantasy with him. How funny is that? Reminds me of another “brain” crush I had with someone a while ago (my very first ever brain crush, actually) and I felt the same way about him. There are those crushes that just make you kinda creeped out when you think of having sex with them. I don’t know how to explain it. I just wanna fuck his mind, I have no desire to fuck him like intercourse fuck him. Eeew. I’m pretty sure he’s gay anyway. I couldn’t even think to watching him fuck anyone else – it’s like our relationship has become sacred in less than 24 hours and I won’t allow even my kinky mind to soil it. *shrugs* I never said I was easy to understand. So anyway, as I was saying, my brain crush assigns writing exercises. He calls them “Free Writes” (nudge nudge Frisco!) and gives us 10 minutes to do them. Today I wrote about Pet Peeves. I wasn’t planning on sharing it – but I’m going to. So you know how my mind works and you will learn to revere it. Haha. Seriously kidding. You may run and hide. Or you’ll be highly entertained which is much more likely.

Keep in mind that these little exercises don’t really “care” about punctuation, spelling, or anything like that. So I am going to try to duplicate the writing exercise the way it is written in my journal. Here it goes:

I have several pet peeves. A lot of them. and honestly I do have A.D.D., so having a lot of choices really freaks me out. Freaks me out in that I don’t know what to focus on and so my mind just spins around and around out of control (where it stops? nobody knows). But I’m on medication so let me just focus for a moment. Ok. Pet peeve #1: I absolutely hate the fact that my family can not pick up after themselves. Ever. They leave all kinds of stuff laying (learned the proper use of that word today!) around. I can tell exactly how it happens, too:

They got up in the morning – probably late. They made toast – left the bread bag open. Put butter on the toast – left the butter out. Thought to themselves that Jam must sound good – dipped the knife into the jam haphazardly, spread it on their toast – oh, opps, some of it got on the counter – oh wait, I’ll make some eggs. I want some milk. I’m so late. And two hours later when I emerge from my haven of sleep and perfect order, BAMMMM!!! Their shit hits me in the face.

For next week I need to write another exercise. I’ll let you know how that goes and I may post it. I may not. This could get pretty intimate. Much more intimate than knowing who I plan on voting for and how I feel about gun control, Iraq, or even abortion. ‘Cause um – while all these things always mean so much at the time, they seriously aren’t as important to me as just what type of person you are and how you treat the people you love and how you demonstrate that you care about them. Fuck a “Party” – who are you? Seriously, who ARE you? Oh, and do you pick up after yourself. I could love anyone as long as they just pick up after themselves.

I’ll post my schedule some time this weekend. I’ll be up tonight for about 3 more hours hopefully. On Saturday I will be logged in during the late afternoon and again in the evening. Sunday we’ll play it by ear. Monday … um … haven’t thought ahead that far. I’ll keep you posted. Okay?

Talk soon.

I tried to resist this whole Nationalist Patriotic Laughable Display Of Camaraderie. Sorry. It’s true. I never got into the whole cheerleader thing unless it was accompanied by an older male teacher-coach who, for special favors, elevated a not so talented Cheerleader to Head Bitch after a few exchanges after Cheer leading practice. I never was one to cheer for the home team until I was hoarse, and I didn’t like the whole sitting in the bleachers while the home football team clobbered an unfortunate team from the school down the street. I like sports alright, I’m just not an enthusiast. I was on the gymnastics team for too many years, as well as the dance team and the whole competitive stuff wore me out. I also did the whole debate team, music competitions and speech competitions, too. I liked all that stuff – emphasis on the word liked. Now I just get bored. Or so I thought.

One evening it happened. I walked into a room and the Olympic theme was playing. The fanfare of the trumpets called out to me, but I was strong and I kept on walking. I turned my head and the heat of the competition lured me in. I stopped in my tracks, watching the woman’s Volleyball. Wow. They were kicking some major ass. I felt the sand whip into my face as the opponents smashed the ball, forcing our sweet innocent ladies to dig into the sand, their bathing suit bottoms sliding painfully up their taunt asses. I screamed at the nerve of the opposing team, then while humming I’m Proud To Be An American, sat down on the couch forgetting all prior obligations. I had stepped too close to the black hole and I had as a result been sucked into its depths. I sat in the belly of that black beast until 2:00AM, vowing to myself to never get so close again.

I understand. I completely understand your pain. Some of you have been in the belly of that beast for a long time. You have bought stock in Visine, know exactly how many extra shots you need at Starbucks in order to make it through the day, and your wife, kids, dog, cat, or all of the above, have taken to the minute intervals of attention you can spare while the commercials play between the events. I am not here to judge you. I am here to offer you … absolution. In turn, perhaps you can forgive me for at least this past week. Deal?

The good news (at least for me) is that the Olympics are over on Sunday. We can all count how many medals we got (including those that we REALLY earned from the Chinese Gymnasts because we all know they are really only 11 years old!), pat ourselves on the back for being the biggest, toughest, strongest and almost the fastest (those Jamaicans… that’s right man!) people on the whole big Earth and focus on what is really important here in America: The Presidential Race and who is the biggest pop star.

School is about ready to start, I’m working on a masterpiece book, I’m still smoke free and walking every day (so I’m healthy and happy!), and I’m finally at long last feeling more like myself than before the operation. Kidding. Just sounded like a good sentence at the time. I really am feeling more like me though, just not because of any operation. It’s the drugs – definitely.

Enough of the jokes – quick thank you’s. And you know it’s been WAY too long you guys – so I may come back and edit this! I just wanted to thank some of you who didn’t forget about me even though I hadn’t written in this blog in a while.

Man Mountain, Cattekin, iluv69, Doug, Joe, Mark M, muzzle, Tiffy, and SBJ: Thank you ALL for the very generous tips!! (and for the subscription, Doug!!, the bracelet Mark, and the gifts D-train!) They were so unexpected and so very appreciated. Thank you so so so so much!

Chris, Zevon, Cattekin, CHburr, GreenLantern, ManMountain, Joe, redyder, stroker, Joe, iluv69, nothingbetterthanthis, bigdicforu, eminencefront, Danno, susieblue, sploosh, Tiffy, viewfromhere, britampa, jimbob, Tuls LagidorP EhT, Your phone number an, parkersan, bigmike23, whiteboots, SubbieMike, sinfully yrs, Allenawesome, drQ99, and Tomcat1066: Thank you all for your written positive feedback. Again, I know you didn’t have to – but you took the time to write a few words of praise and thanks and I really, really appreciate your generosity! Thank you a million times and then a million more!

That’s all I got for you tonight. I’m on and taking a few calls and hopefully I’ll be able to stay up for a bit. I had a late night last night, got up early and went to a block party this evening. All that sun, fun, pool, and pasta salad makes for a very sleepy CeCe – but I’m up for at least a few more hours!

Talk to you soon!

Many people know the dangers of building their houses on “sand” around here. They love the view that the hillside has to offer them. And those of us not wealthy enough to build ontop of a hill, stay in the “valley” coveting thy neighbor’s house who can afford to be up high away from it all. Californians view beach-side property, not as some risk, but as a sign of wealth. Surviving fires, earthquakes, mudslides, etc. becomes this badge of honor; a badge you wear to show how tough you are, like shoveling your way out of your driveway after a blizzard in Minnesota.

I’d like to be wise. So I’ve started looking around for states with no disasters. I’ve come up with Nevada (sand?). I’m open to suggestions.

School has been canceled for tomorrow again and I’m not that upset about it. Actually, I’m ready to be doing something other than watching the news that has taken over network television around here. Our TiVo has been taping all our “shows” but when we actually watch “The Bachelor” it’s just the same news they have been showing around here for over 24 hours now. I’ve been napping all day – I’m not really depressed as I am just exhausted. The air is heavy and the atmosphere is filled with such heaviness – I’m not sure at this point if it’s more emotional weight or pollution. Maybe it’s a combination of both. Our backyard is a graveyard of palm tree branches, leaves, ash, and lawn furniture. There is a mighty wind for a bit that then changes into this eerie silence. And the sky… the sky is ugly. Another day absorbing all these things doesn’t appeal to me much. If there is still no threat tomorrow I may take in a movie, log in for some calls, take Jackson for a drive, or run some errands now that some of the stores are reopening. I have to do something other than watch the news and listen to the sad tales from people who have lost their homes.

I have received such a great outpouring of support, prayers, and well wishes from many of my callers. I so appreciate that! It is so helpful to just hear that people are thinking about you. I took a few calls today and even though many of my callers had their “needs” – and hearing about the fires really didn’t fit into the fantasy much (though firemen fantasies with their big hoses could fit into practically any fantasy, don’t you think?), they still took the time to ask me how I was doing. That is actually very sweet of you guys. Thanks so much!

I better run. I’m staying in the main house for the past few nights due to the air quality out here in the guest house. Also the guesthouse is under the palm tree that seems to be ridding itself of its extra branches quite often… they aren’t too heavy but the sound they make when they fall is a bit daunting. Thanks again for all the kind thoughts, emails, prayers, and phone calls. xoxo.

Somehow he knew I needed to leave, though, and he figured that if he broke up with me I would leave quicker. I think he thought it would be easier for me.

The day I was going to make my decision he confessed that he didn’t really love me. It felt like some scene from Pretty In Pink – when Molly Ringwald confronts Andrew McCarthy and calls him a liar when he says that he doesn’t love her basically. I hit Ken. I hit him so hard my hand hurt. I hit him right in the chest – unknowingly aiming for his heart because I felt at that moment that he had broken mine. I swear that was the first time I had ever cried over a boy. I just existed for days and when I remembered to breathe this pain would just fill my body and I’d start to cry all over again.

I was homesick for years. But I never went back to Minnesota. I never went back to the little mini apple – and I never spoke to Kenneth G. again.

Minneapolis is a little town that should be painted purple. Purple for Prince. You gotta know and love Prince to understand all that. The city I lived in had a “downtown” but I had never been downtown until I went to the Twin Cities. Once I was there – I thought I would never leave. The Mississippi River acts like some sort of border that meanders through that city quietly and steadily. The winters are horrible there (which is part of the reason I moved to warmer state) and the winds that come off of the lakes and the river could freeze hell in an instant. I remember walking over bridges in Minneapolis in the winter time and praying that I wouldn’t freeze by the time I reached my destination. Wind in Minnesota can chill your bones in a matter of a moment.

But I felt safe there. Broken hearts, and cold ass walks across bridges, and purple rain be damned – I have never loved a city as much as I loved Minneapolis – and I doubt I ever will.

When I heard the news that a bridge had collapsed in Minneapolis my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. I stayed up all nite last night – calling frantically and finally reaching my family that had just left for Minneapolis Airport a little less than a week ago before. Having reached them, I read to them the chilling news from the internet; they had recieved news but surprisingly the news from my little lap top was more complete than the news from the local television station. I have cousins that cross that bridge monday thru friday on their way to work. I have teachers who live in that city and uncles that work across the river at the Universities. I have memories shot through a camera lense by a boy who broke my heart just a few short years ago. It is a tragedy that hasn’t quite hit me yet – but I feel myself a bit numb because of it.

Earlier today as I left for school a neighbor ran out to the street to speak to me. He’s from Minnesota, too. Surprisingly there are a lot of people here that lived there once upon a time. Before he opened his mouth to speak I told him that my family was fine. Yes – I spoke to them. No they were miles away from the bridge when it collapsed. Yes, I would tell them he asked about them. Yes, there are a few people we haven’t heard from yet, but I’m sure they are going to be fine. Yes – it is horrible what happened. Yes – I understood that they were now RECOVERING bodies and no longer RESCUING them. Yes, it’s important to live each day like it may be your last. Yes, I need to tell people more often that I love them. Yes, I love you too. Yes, I’ll tell you if I have any more news from Minnesota. Yes, if I need anything I’ll be sure to call. Yes, I’m still in shock and can’t believe it happened.

No, I can’t believe that it happened.

Minneapolis – my heart aches for you.

I so enjoyed opening up drawers and tossing things into the trash, though. I figure if I haven’t worn something in the past 2 months I’m not going to start now – summer clothes the only exception to the rule. Mismatched socks I keep waiting to be reunited with their better half? Toss. Panties that have holes in them? Toss. Tank tops that have seen better days? Toss. Lingerie that reminds me of my last boyfriend? Burn then Toss. LOL! I am a tossing fool. I also went thru my books and decided which books to keep and which to give away – and I decided to part with a few of my books from the courses I took at a nearby college this summer. I know that I could sell them back for a fraction of the price I paid for them – but many of my books aren’t even going to be used next year. I figure SOMEONE will want them at the Good Will. Let them collect them and bring the “stuff” back to their home – I’m finished with it.

So after a few last hours of sorting (this time thru markers, pens, and colored pencils) I’m done. The rest of this is going to have to wait until tomorrow. The good news? I think I’ve done enough that I finally feel like writing. I’m not completely over my writer’s block that has been sitting on my shoulders for the past … what? 3 days now? But I feel it decreasing in size quite a bit. The stuff has been cleared and has made a way for inspiration, I think. I feel it coming… mmmmm…. YEAH!!!

Before I go for the evening – let me just give a few “howdies” and “how do you dos” to a few people who have gently interupted my whole clean sweep mission with some great calls/tips/letters.

To 2 n’s who is in Scotland flirting with the lasses and wearing kilts for the next two weeks: Thank you so much for the gifts. I know they are on their way – and they are not yet in my capable hands – but THANK YOU. I have cleared the way on my bookshelf for them (lol! Come on – I KNOW you’re getting me books!) and I can’t wait to see what you have recommended for me this time!

To clue everyone else in on what has been happening: I have started to collect lists of books from my callers who love to read. What you can do (at any time and in any order) is send me a list of some books that you think are books that everyone should read. I don’t want to know what books are on the best sellers list or whatever – I want to know what books you find instrumental/noteworthy/important. I’m not saying that I will necessarily read every book on your list – but I’m curious to know what everyone is reading. I also need to read more so I’m starting a little CeCe book club of sorts. You can send the list you’ve created to celinawetdreams (gmail address) if you feel so inclined to do so. K. Thanks!

Um – I have officially become a little “band aid” I think! What should I name you? I think I’m going to name you, “gently weeps” – as in “my guitar gently weeps”. Yeah. GW for short, k? k.
So GW is on tour and has a roomie! (giggles). So my pictures are currently keeping him company since there is no way he can tell his roomie to get the hell out of the hotel room so he can phone bone his online band aid! I just find that so… Almost Famous-y. I’ve never slept with a band member before, either. Not an “official” band member. We (GW&I) became acquainted a few days ago and we hit it off rather nicely. He has the kind of fantasy that I love – and after our fantasy he actually held onto it by telling me that he was going to keep his eye on me from his house across the street. I love it when I can continue on with the fantasy even after the call has “ended”. “UNBELIEVABLE… I am breathless. I cannot speak, walk, or even stand. That was truly perfection. “ Thank you so much, GW. You’re perfect, too! Can’t wait to hear all about your tour when you get home!

To my somewhat disobedient panty boy (where are the measurements and stats, little one?) who I talked to nearly a week ago now: YOU are FUN! I have actually considered starting a new listing – even though “anything goes” pretty much covers all bases. I think a nice little feminization listing will do my spirit (and body) good!! If I can instruct little panty boys who dress up in women’s clothing as I’ve instructed you – the world will be a much prettier place. Like I said – I LOVE projects – and makeovers are my speciality! The thought of having you in front of me – and my M.A.C. products lined up in a row – and dipping my make up brushes into pretty colors that will transform you into the perfect little slut is more than I can stand! Now if you can just go ahead and send me your inventory so I can give you a shopping list – things can move on ahead to the next stage! Excellent call! She has an amazing voice and is very knowledgeable about various fetishes and kinks. i will be calling again. Thank You. Why thank you ever so much, pretty one. Now – stop procrastinating, say bye to your little girlfriend as she trots to work not ever guessing in a million years that you’ll be in her closet dick in hand, and get me my lists so we can go shopping!

Seems the piictures continue to be a popular “aid” (lol!) to our phone encounters, too! These are some of the BEST pics of CeCe I have seen. They are so fucking HOT. Seeing her use that glass dildo. Watching her open her sweet pink pussy wide open. I’m still shaking. I put on the slide show loop and just watched and jerked off. Her pics got me so hot. I came hard, I mean real hard. Just had to log back and tell you how great they were, but my hands are still shaking its hard to type. Joe sure liked them!! I didn’t even realize that one could put them on slide show – but now that I think about it … what a WONDERFUL idea!!! I happen to like the glass dildo set particularily well. I have to get some pics of me using my favorite toy, soon – but in the meantime all you boys should probably check out the picture set of the … month? lol! The glass dildo was an old favorite that I tend to neglect because of Mr. Hitachi – but I may just have to break him out of his cell (drawer) next time dear sweet Joe calls! You can put on the slide show again, Joe, while I play with that dildo on the phone with you at the same time. Won’t THAT be a good time?

Can I mention one more person before I close for the evening…? She’s amazing! Cece, I feel a level of intimacy with you that should be impossible in this format. Thank you!
I feel the same way, Sweetie! I say it so much that sometimes even I get sick of hearing it – but here I go again: I’m way lucky. I’m only able to give myself so intimately, G.L. because you’re able to give of yourself so intimately. You make it incredibly easy, absolutely fabulous, and tremendously exciting to have these fantasies with you. In addition to being one of my very first callers – you are one of my sweetest callers, too. Thank you so much for your sweet and generous feedback.

As always – to those I may have not named – you have not been forgotten. Check your emails later on (by the end of this weekend for sure) for something very special. I know I didn’t “have” to – but neither did all of you who saw to give me sweet words just because you were so moved to. Just a little “tit” for that. *slaps knee* I’m so clever sometimes!

Ok – I gotta get to bed. I have a trip to good will tomorrow with my family – and I have more last minute cleaning to do before I get to sit back and admire all my hard work. Then I also am going to work on a few recordings tomorrow – and finish up a few things here on the site, too. (Oh Teeeeeeeee… I’m finally handing in my homework!!!). (On an aside: Have any of you noticed who’s site is FEATURED on Tee’s designing page? Yup – that would be your cute little CeCe!! Coolio Beans!!!) And yes, I’ll be taking calls off and on tomorrow. More than likely in the morning – then back on again from the evening to late late evening. I’m NOT going to go out – I have to start organizing myself for 2nd summer session – and then Fall Semester at college. Maybe I’ll get to take more ORAL examinations tomorrow. (wink wink nudge nudge). I’m always game for playing school!

The holiday that makes me the most homesick for MN has to be The 4th of July. Hands down. With a big huge slice of watermelon on the side. I LOVE the 4th. I love everything about it – even the loud fireworks and the smell of hair burning when it gets a bit too close to the sparklers.

At the lakes when I was younger, I would wake up as early as I could and just about jump out of my skin for the day to begin. EVERYONE came to our house for the holiday: Grandparents, Cousins, Aunts, and neighbors who knew that we knew how to throw a big party. When the cars were parked up and down the drive way and spilled onto our lawn – the kids would gather and change into our swimsuits. We would spend the rest of the day and evening in them, eating watermelon and corn on the cob and jumping into the lake to “wash off” afterwards. There would be waterskiing and “tubing” and swimming out to the raft that sat waiting for us in the middle of the lake. I have no idea what the grown ups would do – they wouldn’t even really watch us very much until we needed them to pull us in the speed boat and then only if my brothers, who were old enough to do it on their own, were otherwise occupied (smoking pot in the treehouse, sneaking beers from the cooler, or sneaking peeks at the always present gorgeous friend one of the cousins brought along for the holiday).

This 4th will be spent at a body of water – but nothing like the lake. I am not going to get into a whining type of fit here – but I just have to say a few things: The ocean is nothing like a lake. Oceans make waves that are angry. The waves crash up on the shore and deposit things on the sand while taking a bit of sand and debris back with it. The ocean – at least here in Southern California – is dirty, and having a mouthful of the ocean and accidentally swallowing a few cup fulls, could result in a few days of paranoia of what type of disease you’ve infected your body with. I’ve never seen a person swim in an ocean in southern California. I’ve seen people run into the ocean and just as quickly run back out again – but I haven’t seen a person actually swim and submerge themselves in it…at least not on purpose. No matter how many people pee in a lake the water is still clear. And we drink it often. Saves the trip up the steps to get a soda is our motto. The fish in the lakes in Northern MN are safe to eat and you can actually figure out what type of fish it is. Sunfish. Trout. Bullheads. I once was at the Santa Monica Pier and saw someone fishing. I waited while the fisherman and his son pulled and tugged and reeled in their catch. When they had finally succeeded in pulling their “catch” from the ocean’s depth – I gasped. I’m serious. I gasped. And then I said, “What is that?” and the fisherman answered me. He said, with this look of fear on his face, “I don’t know.” It seemed to be living, so it wasn’t a dead body, old shoe, or waste or anything like that. But it was some type of ocean creature that one could not eat - and I wondered how in the hell he was going to take it off his hook. Whatever “bait” he used, I hope he got rid of it. A simple worm in the lakes of MN would have yielded a fish big enough to feed a … you know what? Let me stop. Let me just stop.

So tomorrow my family and I will be going to a beach house about 10 feet away from the ocean. If that. It reached 108 today and at the beach it will be closer to 70. The sand will be hot – but the mist generated by those somewhat angry waves will make everything comfortable. The family that has invited us will have lots of delicious food like corn on the cob and watermelon and chicken and every flavor of chip imaginable. We’ll probably fight with the little kids over who gets to sit in the hot tub next, and I’ll have the seasonal fight with Mr. K who always threatens to pull me into the ocean while sand finds its way into orfices it has no business even seeing. I think I’ll bring along a book – or two, my journal and of course my ipod and all these things will stay in my beach bag (along with the sunscreen I wished I had pulled out) the entire time. I’ll probably bring along guitar hero which is like the best game E-V-E-R and we’ll wrap up the evening by playing Charades (which is a very competitive game among people who feel they should have been actors and actresses) and we’ll fall asleep on the drive back (but hopefully not the person who is driving) after 10 or more hours soaking up the sun and the ocean breeze. It isn’t quite like memories from growing up – but it comes mighty close and beats sitting inland gasping as the dry heat sucks up every bit of energy and compassion you have.

I hope that everyone enjoys their 4th – in whatever way you decide to celebrate it. Try not to get annoyed at the firecrackers that go off on your street long after midnight – and eat a nice piece of juicy watermelon and think of me. If you can. Let the juice just run down your hand and over your mouth until you are sticky and then either jump in a pool, lake, ocean, or shower to clean off. But more important than any traditions you may partake in – be safe. Be safe and be careful and return back home rested, tanned, and … well, horny. I’ll be back either late July 4th, or by the 5th. Look for me.

I enjoy my little pay per view movies. Put in some money – and ta dah! Instant pleasure. I have thought about giving a link and maybe being an affiliate – but I’m really scared that my customers would enjoy it more than their talks with me. Seriously. They are that good.

I secretly am relieved that Jerry F. is gone. I don’t tend to hate many people – but I enjoy hating the things that they stand for and believe in when it puts down several groups of innocent people. It’s not kind to speak of the dead, Jerry, so I’ll spare you. You should have done the same when proclaiming that the huge number of gay men who died of aids “deserved” it. Shame on you. If indeed your beliefs are right, by the way, what did you do wrong to die so suddenly at such a relatively young age? Hmmmm? blah.

There are these grapefruit and peach candies that I enjoy TOO much that I get sent to me by my friend in Japan. I get tons and tons of them – and I sit down and suck off all the sugar from the candies before chewing up the chewy goodness of them. It takes me minutes to devour a bag. All the things I know about sugar consumption does nothing to stop the madness. I will eat the sour yet sweet morsels until my tongue grows numb and the sugar high sends me thru strange and exciting moods.

And then there are pictures. Pictures of my family when they were growing up. Pictures of my mother when she was a little girl intrigue me. Pictures of how things use to be – pictures of intimate moments that weren’t suppose to be captured – like my grandmother ruffling my grandfather’s hair while he bends over to inspect their car during their honeymoon.

Barry Manilow. Guilty. John Denver. Guilty. Cat Stevens. Guilty. Bread. Guilty as charged.

My hitachi wand, The Deans Office, and loose leaf college ruled paper – combined into a typical yet tantalizing fantasy – guilty as hell.

I’m finding that those friends that are closest to me not only share many of these same pleasures, but have some of their own to add to the pile. On the phone we can sift thru them all – laugh and breath sighs of relief when we realize that we are definitely NOT alone in them – and look forward to maybe creating a few guilty pleasures of our own.

Thank you for allowing me to be one of your guilty pleasures….

• Paris Hilton - I think she’s disgusting. She evokes all kinds of nasty verbage from my throat – like SLUT – and TRAMP – and anorexic foul mouthed spoiled bitch. (somehow that made me feel a bit like my name was pot and I was calling the kettle black…)
  I’m sorry that she is so damn spoiled that she can’t read the note that says YOU CAN’T DRIVE BIATCH – so maybe since she is so spoiled that she can’t read her own judgements – she can now go to jail and learn to read the sign above her bunk that tells her that Helga down the block wants her tiny ass for breakfast. And while we’re at it – don’t think for a moment that even though Paris and her sex tapes and smelly c..t muscle gives me the creeps – I still don’t mind having the fantasy that many American Men probably share with me – and that is – a nice prison guard shoving his nightstick thru the bars and up her little hole while she sucks off Helga’s strap on shlong. Yea, I went there. Shocked?
• David H. from Bay Watch – Damn damn damn. I know booze is from the devil when you’re eating your (what looks like) In and Out burger off the bathroom floor while your 14 year old daughter tapes you. Before I go kinky here – let me just make it abundantly clear to all who read that having your daughter take responsibility for your fucked up ness is just not a good idea. It just isn’t. If you don’t want to drink – then maybe you should have cameras up in your house recording you 24/7 – and then when you fall off your little red bay watch wagon – the cameras will already be there in force to record you. Why make your daughter responsible to do it? She’s too young to be your savior – and you should really be the adult here. Everyone else can sit and moan about how bad drinking is and how you know you have a problem when blah blah blah – but I’m concerned about the role you put your little daughter in. Shame on you Mr. H from Baywatch. Running along the beach in slo motion didn’t teach you a damn thing about fatherhood, I see. So yeah. Taping an older man and using that against him in order to get whatever I want …. that fantasy has been playing on repeat in my mind since this whole story aired. Uff dah.
• Alec Baldwin. Or is it ALEX? Whichever/whomever/whatever. You’re gonna get irrate at you and Kim’s seed and yell all kinds of stupid shit about teaching her a lesson and her being a pig, was it? Are you serious, Mr. Baldwin? Now you know I love you. I happen to think you’re pretty hot. And as disgusted as I was about you yelling at your daughter on the phone – um… it did make me a bit hot at the same time. And I don’t play submissive well. But let’s back up a moment: You left it on a tape for the world (Itube) to listen in on. You’re an actor. Don’t you realize the power (by now) of film and audio and how timeless it all is? Then you go on the view and sit next to Rosie and the other not so important chicks and you think that their maternal instincts is gonna make it all better for you? You’re sitting next to the answer to your problems, Mr. B. and you don’t even realize it. Yes – Rosie. She’s not really all that attractive, really, right? Kinda cute and has a GREAT personality. She’s funny (which you should enjoy) and though she doesn’t spread food around her body like good ole Kim – I’m sure she enjoys a great meal from time to time. Look at her. LOOK AT HER!!!! You should have married someone like Rosie. Because obviously you can have no sense when it comes to attractive sexy women. If you had married someone a bit more … NORMAL looking – then you probably wouldn’t be getting all psycho on your daughter that you share with good ole Kim B. You married the most beautiful woman in the whole universe really – and married a woman that all kinds of men were beating off to daily – and this is where it got you. Insanely angry and bitter and alone. Marry yourself a normal girl who will take care of you – and then spend some of your hard earned money calling some of the “kim b’s” on niteflirt for your little fix. There is truth to the song, “If you want to be happy for the rest of your life…” Think about it. The kink factor? I have my fantasies of fucking a man who has “settled” right along with every other attractive girl like me. For a shopping spree every now and then I might even let you say naughty things to me on my answering machine……..

I feel much better having gotten that off my chest…. Forgive me for being so politically incorrect. or don’t.

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