I was thinking about writing about this for the past week, but there are times in a woman’s life (sorry if this is TMI, but this is my blog and you’re reading it… LOL!) where the thought of two vaginas is enough to make a girl child cry. I think I’m at the point now where I can address this topic and write about it in a way that gives it respect. As any woman with two vaginas should get. Respect. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Plenty of it. Like barrels filled. Word.

I saw this little “blurb” about a woman having two vaginas and I didn’t even really read it. That’s how disturbed I was by it. But I’m going to google it now, and give you my first impressions/reactions. Here we go. Women with two vaginas.

• According to google, there are plenty of woman who have two vaginas (vagini? vaginay?). Tyra Banks spoke with 5 such women in 2010. Wow, Tyra. You go girl. With your bad kinky multi vagina talkin self!
• The latest woman afflicted with multivaginaitis is named Hazel. Hazel? I dunno, a woman with 2 vaginas shouldn’t be named Hazel. She should be named something sexy like…Shanna. or… Victoria. or…PussyGalore.
• Hazel Jones…she sounds like she lives next door!…apparently has been approached by several adult film producers, one who offered to pay her 1 million dollars. Good for you, Hazel. The things they will probably do to your 2 vaginas warrants much more than 1 million dollars!!
• Let’s think about this seriously for a moment. She has 2 vaginas. 2 cervixes. 2 uterus’. (uteri? uteruseses) which means she can have 2 times of the month, she can lose her virginity twice. And, if she’s having sex and a guy says “oops. wrong hole…” she can’t dismiss it as a guy trying to “slip one by her”! Poor Hazel.

So what do you think? Does the thought of Ms. Hazel’s two Vagini make you horny?

I’m logged in for the next couple of hours. Feeling MUCH better, so give me a call! You’ll be glad you did.

About a week ago I decided I needed a new adventure. Maybe it’s my ADD – maybe it’s avoidance. Maybe it’s that I still haven’t quite kicked my smoking habit as much as I’d like and I need to do something with all this inner ‘teenage’ angst I have. Who knows. Maybe it was a moment of insanity that made me google training for your first 5. Now even though I’m athletic (I’ve sprinted before – short distances, mostly, played softball, danced (not THAT KIND!) – and been a gym rat as of late) so this running more than a minute thing is SERIOUSLY a challenge for me. I’m definitely not a couch potato, but the thought of heavy breathing (why do all my posts take on a sexual vibe?) and sweating doesn’t exactly appeal to me. At least not when I’m alone in the elements first thing in the morning while running.

So I started this whole training project. And this coming week I’ll be on week 2. Ill be running a total of 2 minutes by the end of this week, I think. Supposedly at this rate – in 8 weeks I’ll be running 30 minutes non stop , which “they” say is a 5k. I think I’ll have to run 45 minutes straight to go that distance. I am not running fast enough to do a 10 minute mile. 3 miles is 5 kilometers, right? Damn American school system. Haven’t we been trying to move over to the metric system for the past 50 years now? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just do it already instead of giving us water bottles with liters and telling us how many cm something is next to the inches to avoid confusion. They tell us it’s easy – easier than the American system of units, yet the only people who are using the metric system are doctors and scientists. The smart people, basically. But I digress.

Running is hard. Anyone who runs has my complete attention and then a healthy dollop of respect on the side. People who run past me as I crawl along on my 20 minute mile are impressive. Their leg muscles inspire me and their even breath as they actually say hello to me as they pass is impressive beyond words. If I look in your direction as I’m “running” by you, consider yourself lucky. Half of the time I can’t see through the pain.

I’m exaggerating.

Slightly.

The thing is, I kinda like the challenge. I like running and knowing that whatever is inside of me – any fear or anxiety or worry or whatever, leaves my body because struggling for air and longing for my next breath takes precedent over any emotional trouble I might be feeling at the moment. I like the feeling when I forget the task of running and I look up and see squirrels running up trees, and flowers crawling slowly up someone’s white picket fence, and the fat Morris the Cat body double that lies in the middle of the path every Wednesday morning at about the same time every day as I gasp by. I love how at the end I’m always amazed at what I’ve accomplished. I like how strong I feel I am at that moment, and how my sweat catches up to me all of a sudden — like – “whoa! I’m hot!” flood of sweat that literally drips off my body in rivers of varying size and shape.

I wouldn’t say I’m addicted. Yet. But I’m fast on my way. I wouldn’t say it’s my drug of choice in making myself feel better, but it’s definitely in the top 5. I wouldn’t say I believe this whole process will work and in 8 weeks I’ll be running 30 minutes straight, but I’m definitely willing to try.

What do I have to lose?

So a bit ago (last year sometime?) I talked about a little crush that I had on a girl in choir at church. Yeah. I know – lots to swallow right there, huh? Celina is a lesbian? Celina goes to church? Celina sings in a choir? No time to slow down, boys, keep up, okay? Ask questions later. Many of you know that my father is a pastor and many of you know this because church plays a part in some of our fantasies (those of you who aren’t afraid you’re going to burn in hell by mentioning sex and church in the same convo, that is! hehe) . It was only a matter of time before I returned to my roots. And no, I don’t personally have any conflicting feelings about church and masturbation or what I do here. As long as we keep things in perspective and understand the things we think about and fantasize about don’t make us bad or good – they just make us uniquely human. but enough of that. I see your eyes glazing over. So yeah – I’m in a church choir and I developed the HUGEST crush on this girl and had no idea what was happening. She already had a girlfriend, too, so I was feeling doubly bad about having a crush on someone that isn’t available. Though hello – how many times does that happen to me at this job? Too many times to count. So yeah – Ifound myself getting all nervous when I sat next to her and when she would touch my thigh (yeah – she TOUCHED ME A LOT) I would get all tingly and I thought am I a lesbian now or what the hell is going on? So I asked my parents about it and they said, “whatev” Not in those words, but basically. Whoever I love and how I love is of no consequence for (to?) them. As long as I’m happy and no one is getting hurt. They are bleeding heart liberals. Whatcha gonna do? So we went out for lunch a few times and wrote notes back and forth and gushed all over each other’s art and flirted and blah blah. And then disaster struck. This little thing called reality hit and suddenly this crush became really painful. I remember the same thing happening to a friend of mine who wanted more from me than I could give and then suddenly just being around me sucked. Which is why we don’t talk any more. And it hurt when it happened, but now I get it. Being around that one thing that reminds you of what you can’t achieve or accomplish or have or be with or whatever it is – it just hurts. Plain sucks. So you begin to avoid it and find ways to not be reminded of the pain. So I started to shut down. Became really pouty and a bit bratty (I know you’re shocked) and then I contemplated leaving the church and never singing in choir again. And someone (a caller, I believe) told me that this is exactly why these things are called CRUSHES. They are really fun at first, but when love/lust/infactuation is one sided all of a sudden that thing that made you giggle and get all warm and sensitive and stuff, all of a sudden it starts to crush the life out of you.

Great positive feel good post, CeCe.

So yeah. It was difficult. But about 2 weeks ago, I realized that I had come through the other side. I decided to just let it be. I told myself that I wasn’t being foolish to feel such strong feelings for someone. That more than likely (definitely more likely than not) the object of my crush wanted me to feel exactly how I was feeling. I had definitely been led on, toyed with, manipulated. Not out of some cruel evil plot, but just because everyone (men and women, gay, straight, bi, old, young, republican and liberals) want to be wanted and love attention and are drawn to cute brace faced girls with great senses of humor. Seriously, though, it’s human to want to be wanted, and it’s easy to play those games we do to see if we’re really as wanted as we think we are. You get my point. I forgave her. I started to see her as someone who may have a slight bigger case of insecurity than I did. I decided to love her anyway, but love her in a mature healthy way. I wouldn’t daydream about her anymore or be upset when I no longer got her attention. I would just allow whatever to be to be and look at things a bit more positively. And things started to change. And now things are almost back to normal and there’s only a slight scar where the crush use to be. Sometimes when it gets pressed it’s a little tender and I think that it’s coming back again. But it never does. It stays put. It knows to stay put. So – thank God. I got through it.

I have a few callers who call for advice every now and again and I try to give the best advice I can. I don’t have a license (obviously) to give psychiatric advice and referrals (ahaha) but I do have an open mind and I’m kind. I honestly do not judge people harshly. Niteflirt has the ability to freak out flirts from time to time and I don’t ever get freaked out. Sure, there are some things I’m not into. We can’t all be into everything. But there isn’t anything that makes me want to run in the opposite direction. There isn’t anything that makes me think the person thinking it or doing it or whatever is sick. I know that’s pretty liberal of me, and it’s not said to be a challenge so everyone with unique fetishes and over the top ideas in their heads can call me up to test me on what I’m saying, it’s said as a way of maybe comforting those of you who are worried about things that you think about or get excited about or whatever. Here I am, a pastor’s kid, working on niteflirt, having crushes on girls, having fantasies about all kinds of things that are off the beaten trail, going to school and living in a world that is predominately afraid of differences. I actually live in the very city that describes that song “little boxes”. Here I am, having all kinds of conflicting thoughts and feelings about a host of things that could all be labeled taboo by someone. But I’m not ashamed of my fantasies. So you shouldn’t be either.

So there you have it. A confession to tantalize a few confessions out of you. For those of you who have entrusted me to your secrets, thank you. I’ll keep them safe. And for those who are wondering if you can trust me with a few of your ‘gems’ – wonder no more. Give me a call. You’ll be glad you did.

When I was a bit younger and a whole lot more innocent, I had a major crush on one of my older brother’s friends named …well, let’s just call him Tom Joel. He use to play the piano like … I can’t even think of a proper analogy.  He just played the piano extremely well.  Like EXTREMELY well.  He would sit and just listen to a song maybe once or twice, and then he would play it back like memorex. He use to play this one piano song (a Rag) by Billy Joel that amazed me. His fingers looked so good gliding across those keys.  *swoon*  Being a piano player myself, I quickly developed a crush on him like no other.  In order to impress him, I started to collect Billy Joel CD’s and quickly learn all the lyrics to every song I could.  I love you just the way you are (or whatever the actual title of that song is!) was one of my favorites.  "I hope you know that you will always be…the special someone that I knew…WHAT will it take till you believe in me – the way that I believe in you?"  LOL!  Classic, right?  Tell me a tear didn’t just slowly fall from your eye.

So this title came to me quite a few weeks ago and I didn’t get the chance to write about it.  But when another incident happened to remind me of that song, I knew that me writing a post called "Don’t Go Changin’" was inevitable. 

We all have taken… wait… let me rephrase that.

Most of us have painstakingly thought about our screen names.  Now that I’m 20 years old I realize I should have taken a little bit more care in choosing my name.  We all make mistakes.  But honestly — I know that most of you have screen names on NF that really MEAN something to you.  Sometimes you’re delighted when a flirt asks you about your name because your name is from a book you love, or a movie character you look up to, or the name of the street where you parked to get your first blow job from that chick you had a crush on or whatever.  The point is – names are special for the majority of you and I completely understand. Hell,  I completely agree.  A name is everything.  I have one "client"/friend/lovah who has my name as part of his screen name.  That is pretty much because, as I explained to him, he’s smart enough to make another name for himself should he ever wish to speak to someone else (LOL!).  It happened a very long time ago and it’s really way beyond even the confines of NF so I can’t even really discuss it that much because I start getting embarrassed and fidget and talk too much.  Let’s just say that it’s a one time deal and I have, since then, separated myself from the practice of informing anyone or suggesting that anyone be CeCe’s ANYTHING.  It’s just a bit too much attention for me, and as much as I am all out there and bold like floats during GAY PRIDE in West Hollywood, I am really actually very shy when it comes to affections.  So – don’t go changin’ – to try to please me.  I love your name just the way it…are.

The other day I was glancing through my customers when I see my name attached to a person’s name.  I recognized this person’s name from an order he had placed with me.  Nice fellow.  I rather liked him.  I don’t think ill of him and I wish him well (wink).  He had found someone on NF that … floated his boat, let’s say, and he changed his name to suit his preference which meant that the names on my customer list and feedbacks changed to reflect his newest devotions.  Again – no biggie.  I am not available enough to claim anyone’s loyalty.  And when nature calls us we must answer the call by any means necessary.  I get that.  I am honestly not insulted.  But there is a slight rumor, I think, that is going around the halls of NF that this type of devotion is what some of us ladies love.  A few more of my feelings on using my name as your moniker:

• You can call yourself Tatu, or even Jesus if you’d like.  Just get on the phone and give me a call and have a great time.  You can name yourself MarysJesus if need be – you’re giving me a call and that is what matters to me at that moment. 
• I don’t impress easily.  Tattoo my name on your body and I might be!
• Nothing says devotion like a few dozen roses in her favorite color (I love pink)
• Nothing says devotion like a few gifts off a wish list (I’m thinking that purple Ipod Shuffle needs to be mine).

I believe I’ve made my point.

Earlier today I get an email asking me to break some major rule on NF, and the individual has changed his name to include a part of mine.  As if I’m going to look at that sign of "devotion" and think – hell yeah.  Anything for you, "cece"dude.  It takes seconds to change your name to reflect my name in it, but it takes many days and hours of devotion to earn a place in my heart. It’s far more important to find a place in my heart.    So please.  I beg of you.  Listen to what Billy Joel is saying (WWBJD?) and don’t go changing to try to please me.  I love your name just the way it … are. 

Before I leave you and … pass out, I think.  (looks at time… maybe I can hang for a few more hours….) I need to make a public service announcement in regards to my blog and the comments held with in.  The comments do not in any way reflect the opinions of this chick (points to self).  The comments on my blog (the replies I’m talkin ‘ about) are the individual’s thoughts and as such, I will not be held accountable for anything that anyone says in my blog – and I will not um … how do I say it… ?  If they claim somethin and it turns out to be false… sowwy.  Not my fault either.  (just put it in lawyer speak to make it sound fancier if you’d like).   I say all of this because it has come to my attention that there are people who are afraid to comment in my blog after reading some of the exchanges between readers and myself – or readers and innocent bystanders/commenters.  Many have been bullied by a nazi named Rolf, and  a few have been befriended (Nazis need love, too!).  Some have gotten through the wrath of many of my more adoring ‘fans’, and others have left weeping never to return again.  A few customer’s told me that they would not be commenting in my blog ever — and some of these customer’s are very tough and intelligent people (maybe that’s why they will not comment – ilut!).  One of my customer’s today told me that after reading some of my feedback and comments he realized that he might be jumped into some secret society gang type thing and had a dream that he actually was accosted by one of my submissive fans.  This submissive turned Dom – tied up my new customer, blind folded him, took his wallet and credit card, and proceeded to use his information to pay for his calls to me on NF.  He called me up from his phone, and I laughed at him while being impressed by my submissive turned Dom caller.  My switch customer then later tortured him by showing up at his door in ski masks and the like.  I have to get into it all a little later, but wanted to touch on it today as it relates to my topic.  It does.  The connection is there!   Listen – do not be scared of any thing you read.  I don’t think that any of my callers will hurt you, tie you up and blind fold you, steal your credit cards and use them to pay for their sex calls to me, or anything else.  But just in case, don’t leave your real email address when replying.  And you may want to use an alias.  Just use one with out my name in it because… (sing it with me now!)

I love you just the way you are!

I’m on until 1:00AM or so.  Fading fast though.  Will be back on tomorrow evening — feel free to make an appointment if you need to.

Sometimes my titles come to me in an instant – other times I write the whole post and the title sits there waiting for me to recognize it at the end of my sentence. Today the title came to me in an instant. But the post that it was connected to quickly moved over so that this little memory could make an appearance. It may distract me momentarily but let’s see if I can bring myself back.

Not so very long ago (notice that sometimes putting things in the past makes it a lot easier to own up to it?) I became a bit obsessed about naughty cartoons. I would surf through the internet looking for cartoons – renditions of my favorite Walt Disney movies in X rated forms. Ariel getting screwed by different sea creatures, Sleeping Beauty and the witch getting it on with the Prince (Charming?), Cinderella and her step sisters having a little orgy on their way to the ball… stuff like that. I found other cartoons, too, of course (Simpsons, Jetsons, Flintstones, etc.) but there was something really naughty and consequently erotic about finding DISNEY porn that had me quite um … titillated. So back to the title of this post. As soon as I saw it I thought of a particular naughty cartoon I saw of Snow White and the 7 dwarfs. That cartoon sparked many a fantasy with me as Snow White (of course) let me tell you. Heigh Ho indeed. But this is not the reason I made the title – though I’m sure many of you will find my obsession with Disney Porn much more interesting than what I really had to talk about. The song does not stop with Heigh Ho Heigh Ho, though – nope. It’s Heigh Ho Heigh Ho it’s OFF TO WORK I GO – which is what I have been doing constantly for the past few weeks.

(smooth transition, huh?)

I have been knee deep in RSS feed hell. I swear – as soon as I think I’ve got it – something happens to let me know that I haven’t. I actually found myself admitting to a customer last night that I was so near the end of my rope that I would gladly trade phone sex if someone would just suddenly appear and do it for me. Just fix it. It’s all “back end” stuff mainly. Everything from the “front” (Man – this post is rather steamy today isn’t it?) looks great. You click on a file and it will play (if you click me – do I not play? – bonus points for anyone who knows what that is a ‘play’ off of) but on my radio site that is not yet operating as nicely as I want it so will remain a secret (nah nah nah nah nah), things just aren’t loading as nicely and neatly as I would prefer. I’m kinda stuck too because until I figure everything out I’m not going to further annoy myself (and subscribers) by subscribing my feed anywhere else. *sigh*! I just keep hoping that I’ll do something and unknowingly stumble on the solution but so far no go. In the meantime I am busy writing up my program notes for Monday. I believe I will be ON TIME! And that, dear readers, is an absolute SUCCESS as far as I’m concerned. ID3 tags can be messed up on the radio site for all I care – the show must go on.

Last night was crazy busy (and the night before was too… are you all getting in your phone ‘freak’ before the super bowl? Whewwww!) until I logged off around 2:00AM. I have a few things to do around the house today (chores – go ahead – laugh.) and then I am going to grab some dinner with a friend of mine. I will be home and ready to log in tonight at 10:00PM. I’ll probably stay logged in until early morning and then you guys are free to go do the masculine thing with the rest of the male population until whenever. I will be logging back on tomorrow around 10:00PM. If you need me sooner shoot me an email. I am really not a football kind of girl – even with pizza and ‘pop’. I’ll leave you all to it – and be the half time entertainment or whatever. Or the after game party. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ll just whistle while I work…and patiently wait for my men to come home after their hard day in the mines. I’ll leave the apples alone. Don’t worry.

**edited to add: Wow. That game was something! I’m logging on a bit earlier than expected – just in case you were wondering what to do with yourselves until I got on! It’s 8:03…04… 05 – and I’m available. I’ll be logging off sometime around 1:00AM I believe so I can get some sleep before trying to register for classes tomorrow. Hope to talk to you tonight sometime! **