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.

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?

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.

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.

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! **

When it rains in Southern California it’s a big thing. There are the mud slides – the traffic jams due to the accidents because no one knows how to drive in the rain apparently, and there is the incredible lazy feeling that descends on me like the paparazzi descends on Brittney Spears when she climbs into a limousine; I break out the books and movies immediately. The other day while speaking with Rolf I realized that I had about 10 movies I had bought during my film orgy inspired by my cinema class that I had not even watched yet. Among those films was the movie To Wong Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar. Being the girl that I am (there is a word for the type but I hate the word seriously!) I realized I had to watch the movie immediately and put it in and sat back for what I thought would be a mediocre movie about a bunch of badly dressed men pretending to be women. I was so wrong. Though they were badly dressed – I found Chi Chi, Vida, and Noxeema the funniest characters EVER. Oh my goodness. I haven’t laughed that hard in quite a while. The message of the film was pretty unrealistically optimistic but when has unrealistic optimism in movies stopped me? (Mary Poppins, Sound Of Music, 7 Brides for 7 Brothers, Happy Feet and other unrealistic optimistic films continue to be the staples of my dvd library.)

Patrick Swayze (spelling?) didn’t really do that badly as a woman. He looked good in his outfits. He looked really classy most of the time – like a masculine Jackie O. Wesley Snipes – oh my gosh. His arms were out of control. Maybe that’s what made it so funny, though… something about his arms being all pumped up and masculine – and then him wearing really bad wigs and ghetto fabulous clothing. He almost looked a bit like Angela Bassett in Whats Love Got To Do With It as a matter of fact. Angela’s arms were a bit much in that movie, don’t ‘cha think? I don’t mind a toned woman with some definition, don’t get me wrong! But if a man is gonna be beatin the *beep* out of that woman with the well toned arms it just makes it a bit hard to believe. But again – that movie also is one of my staples. The actor who played Chi Chi was pretty great, too. He spoke exactly like Rosie Perez I thought (ok – an octave lower) and had really great movement for a man pretending to be a lady. He got that hip thing down like “whoa”. I didn’t think it was totally believable that he would be the hottest one of the bunch … so hot that he could persuade a little hick boy to fall in love with her and never suspect a thing…but hey… there is something about a sexy confident latina that makes ME hot… even if that latina isn’t very attractive. Take Rita Morena for example. Was she as hot as Penelope Cruz or Salma Hayek? I’m not sure… but put her in West Side Story talkin about how she wants to be in America and give her a sexy little dance and temper and even I wanna fuck that girl. Maybe it’s all in the attitude after all. Hmmm.

So anyways … I realized that maybe my fascination with musicals, show tunes, gay men, men who dress up in women’s clothing, etc. pretty much makes me a gay man. Let’s think about that for a moment, shall we?

Ok… let’s move on.

Tiffy (lol.. sorry sweets – bad segue, huh?) who is NOT a gay man, by the way, and I had a fabulous date. Tiffy picked me up promptly and gave me some flowers and a nice kiss on the cheek. We then went to a party of a mutual friend where we fucked on her bed and lit a few of her candles that I suspect were just for show (bad Tiffy … BAD BAD BAD!) We had delicious pillow talk afterwards and before and during that always makes the time with Tiffy absolutely delicious. I also had a little bit of homework prior to the call that made me ready for the time we shared. I’m not going to go into detail because I kinda spent myself on the whole To Wong Foo rant a few paragraphs ago … but I will say that I did go into a drug store and ask a male clerk where the KY Jelly was. He turned a bright red and I held his gaze – asking him a few times too many if he meant THIS aisle and then thanking him again when I found the tube of the stuff. “I thought you had the kind that gets warm when you blow on it… oooooh. Here it is, never mind!” *wicked grin*. Thanks Tiffers tiff tiff for the great call…you are an absolute delight, you know. Delicious!

Before that call and earlier this evening I played the next door neighbor who strips in front of her window and then encourages her captive audience to finish on his window pane while watching her masturbate, the sexy seductress who tantalizes her best friend’s mother’s boyfriend, and the naughty failing Math Student (that never gets old!) This weekend has been wet in more ways than one (slaps the knee… I’m so punny, right?)

Halloween is approaching fast and I won’t be trick or treating that evening. I will be attending a great bash of a party on the 27th however as Snow White. Whored out version of course. It always strikes me as funny when girls where costumes and it’s apparent that they are only wearing them to get tons of attention. There are so many whore like costumes in the world… hell – they could make a costume of mother theresa look slutty I bet. Slutty Cop. Slutty Nurse. Slutty Nun. Slutty Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Everyone is a slut on Halloween. I’m actually NOT going to be slutty at all. I’m going to be respectful in my snow white costume with 7 little men running around behind me and a rather sexy witch following me around trying to get me to eat her “apple”. I’m thinking that Jackson will probably wear this for the actual Halloween Eve. He doesn’t know it yet. There are really some pretty cute outfits for girl dogs though… wait a minute! Jackson could go drag for Halloween couldn’t he? YES! He COULD! Hmmmm….

Oooh – (this will be a better segue) SPEAKING OF JACK… (lol!) he weighs a nice even round 3 lbs. Looks like he’ll be about 7 lbs as an adult. *sigh*. It’s okay – I just paid a bit more for him because he was supposedly going to be “tiny”. Why I ever believed that anyone could tell me how big a puppy would get is beyond me. I guess I’m just a sucker. He was still worth every penny. Even though today he bit me so hard he drew blood. It wasn’t on purpose – he was trying to get the toy kangeroo I was squeaking at him. Yes – I’m serious – I have a plastic kangeroo toy that I make him fetch and bite and attack. I screamed so loud that he just stopped playing and sat down (with out me even requesting he do so! lol) and looked at me with such a sad look in his eye that I immediately picked him up and told him it was alright. The Dog Whisperer (who I now have my infamous BRAIN CRUSH on) says that pets can really get crazy when we over react over such things. I didn’t want Jackson to pick up on my fear that he would do it again, you know? It wasn’t his fault. I also didn’t want to get mad at him so I had to check myself because there is a difference between some killer 3 lb Maltese trying to bite off my thumb and a sweet little innocent doe eyed little maltese attempting to play fetch with me and mistaking my thumb for the evil creepy kangeroo plastic toy. God hasn’t answered my prayers for thicker skin yet but I haven’t lost hope yet.

I am going to go to bed soon. Tomorrow I have a lot of homework to do – and I also have another post to write up tomorrow evening too. I have received so many great gifts lately – and was told the other day by my sweet Uncle Randy that I’m getting a TERRIFIC gift soon by him that will help me with my Screenwriting class! I am SO excited – and SO lucky to have such great friends who care about my educational and professional goals. For reals! And it’s not even my bday or Xmas yet! I’m almost as spoiled as Jackson is!

I’ll be on tomorrow evening sometime … email me if you need me before that though. I’m always happy to be interupted when it comes to Algebra!

So I have made a decision. But first let me explain. LOL! It’s not a disclosure – it’s just the full story… you’ll see.

So one day last week I was minding my own business when suddenly I received a call. Now this call was like no other. The fantasy was just wild – and purrfectly relayed to me by a very special young man. I listened, I absorbed and then I went to “work”. We played and I totally started getting into his fantasy and I realized how much fun I was having and then *tear* it ended. My caller thanked me and told me that he would leave me great feedback and I replied to him that if he called back that would be the best feedback ever. Honestly – I still stand by that, by the way. Well a few days later I saw this feedback from Catwoman fan:

Uhhh-myyyy-gddd! Wow. If you like detailed advice from a younger perspective . . . GO Elsewhere (she’s mine!).

LOL! How absofrickenlutely adorable is that?! I literally laughed out loud when I read that. Especially the Uhhh myyy gddd part. So totally me. See? totally! So to my catwoman fan: It was easy as pie being wonderful for you. You are purrfectly purrfect in every way and your fantasy is just so much fun for me to do. I’m glad we met – and I’m glad that you called me back tonight – and I’m glad that you went ahead and left me feedback because it made me laugh and smile and remember what a great time we had. Thank you so much, dahlinnnnng!

During the same time period – and it might have been the same evening – I received an email. Now even though I suggest that people email me with their fantasy requests if they are nervous and feel there are too many details and want me to get it “just right” – I sometimes fear that it’s a ploy that some customers use to get some free “advice” or whatever. But this email seemed to be written directly to me – it wasn’t a form letter like many of the letters I receive from potential clients. You know the kind: Dear Advisor Of NF. I love your listing! blah blah blah… Form letters just scream “form letter” and no girl wants to feel like someone is just going down the line cutting and pasting and who ever responds is the lucky recipient. IF they call at all that is. So just a quick note of advice before I get back to my feedback (lol) – at least put in the advisors name. If you said, “Dear CeCe. I Love your listing!” and copy paste everything else I at least know you took the time to write Dear CeCe if nothing else, right? Ok… so back to the email. It was long – and detailed – and I thought as I read it – okay – let me tell the gentleman that I will do his fantasy and see if he actually calls me back. Well hells bells he did. And this is what he said. :

One of the best role players on NF! Thanks for reading my e-mail and paying attention to all the details!

Confession? Role play gives me a taste of the actress that I secretly always wanted to be. LOL! Seriously. I take my roles seriously. If I get a request for something I’m not certain about I’ll be googling it before you call me up. If I get some specifics about costumes or nails or hair or boob size or whatever – I’m a google freak. I want to get your fantasy right. It makes me happy to make you happy. I love hearing from people, like you Mike, that tell me that you got exactly what you needed and it went exactly how you had planned. I know that when it’s in your head it’s in your head in a specific way. I want to honor that and give life to your fantasies and you know … do them justice. So I’m glad that I was able to do that for you and the you had a great time and great call. Thank you for the sweet feedback.

Before I call it a night because it is late… wait… I have 2 more things to talk about. Darn. This is longer than I thought it was going to be. Anyways – one more “shout out” – and that goes to Mr. Birthday Boy. I’m so sorry I missed it, hun, but I’m sending along a little something for you anyways. Hopefully you’ll accept my apologies – at the time I was going to write myself a reminder and I forgot to write myself a do not forget note about it. Did you follow that? Good!

Happy Belated Bday Sweetie Pie Sugar Bunch. I’m sorry I missed it – I hope you had a great day and that you got spoiled and got to eat yummy cake and pizza. I also hope your friends didn’t make you wear goofy hats and that you got great presents and didn’t need to return anything. This is what the belated bday boy said to me in his recent feedback:

spent way more on this call then I should have, but it was the best I ever had on here, and I got addicted! It was my birthday present to myself. (Even though my birthday isn’t for four days!)

Happy Happy Bday!!!! I know that you also left additional feedback about me being patient and stuff and I told you then and I’ll tell you now – don’t worry about how long or if it should be longer or whatever. Just relax when you’re with me and know that you aren’t “bothering” me and I’m not frustrated. I just wanted to make sure you had a great time and that it wasn’t too frustrating for you. Know what I mean? If you’re happy then I’m happier. Customers really do “come” first here, you know.

So there you have it. My little shout outs. These are so random and I’ll probably not get around to doing them again for another month – but I did want to take a moment (again) to thank everyone I mentioned – and everyone I didn’t mention that are die hards and know me better than my own momma right about now!! You all make “flirting” so much fun!

Ok – let’s tie this up, shall we? I got a B on my math quiz. I should have gotten an A – but I made some really silly mistakes and lost 3 points. My teacher hi fived me after my performance. On the quiz, people! Shesh. It was easier than I thought it was going to be. I thought that it was going to have all kinds of geometry questions from the first chapter but he ignored all that stuff – thank God. Ok – the rest of my classes are good. I think I’m going to start writing about the girl and the internet job… whose father is a Pastor. a sort of Cumming of age story, so to speak. *wink* I can’t believe the weekend is almost here already – and Jackson is trying my patience. I still love him – even more today than I did yesterday – but he’s testing his momma something fierce. Remind me to tell you about the puppy pad disaster on another day because if I start talking about it I’ll talk about it for the next hour and a half. I found some really delicious treats for him at PetSmart today and as a result I ruined his dinner. I’m almost embarrassed to say this out loud – but I really think that I will have tasted at least one item of Jackson’s food before the end of the month. I’m just curious and it smells fabulous those pupparoni sticks. Yum my.

I’m losing it and going to bed to retrieve it. Night.

The university that I’m planning on attending for fall Semester is hot on the ass of CeCe. Transcripts have been sent in up till now (My Summer classes will end a week before Fall Semester starts so I’ll carry those with me into the administrative office for my first counseling session) and on every single solitary piece of paper I get from these people is the word Matriculation. It sounds painful. It sounds like something you catch after a “everything stays in Vegas” weekend. I had to do this tour earlier before I could even start looking at the Fall Class Schedule. A virtual tour (a 3 hour tour… a 3 hour tour…). Complete with really cheesy video of students asking questions like…”I’m going to be working part time at starbucks – and I’m really worried if I’ll have time to study with all the classes I’m taking. Where can I go to speak with someone who could help me?” I’m not even kidding. Then you have to take your little mouse and point it in the direction the student should go – and then “click” on the correct building. I wanted to see if the college had a sense of humor equivalent to my somewhat dry and witty one, so I clicked on the cafeteria. I figured the dude should just go get a cup of Joe and think about his life for a bit instead of speaking to a counselor who would only tell him to take out another 50 loans to pay for his education so he could stop working for the pusher of crack we know here in Southern Cali as StarBUCKS. Or maybe he could take a walk over to the Restroom Facilities, to the very last stall on the left with the nice little glory hole – and suck a few for 10 minutes – making the equivalent of what he might make working at the fine establishment for 3 hours. But I didn’t. I had to matriculate as fast as possible.

I have a tentative schedule in mind. Will be taking 5 classes – and one of them is Bowling – so I think that’s really only technically four classes, right? Japanese (though I may change that to Spanish cuz Japanese is hella hard…as you well know, DOC!), Intro to Screen Writing, Honors Composition (English class…notice the HONORS part of that class. Yeah. They accepted me into the honors program…woot woo for CeCe!), Intro To Algebra (sobs), and what was the other class? (counting)… oh wait. That’s it. 5. Ok. So now all I have to do is wait for a little email to tell me I can register and that I’ll be accepted in as a sophmore – which should be easy because I have enough credits and have 2 letters of recommendation from the profs from the classes I took this past year along with a very very sweet letter from a past teacher saying how absolutely brilliant I am (I’m so kidding). I should be a “shoe in”. So to speak. In non NF language.

Ya know … back to that boy who was wondering about study time with his job and the little glory hole in the back stall of the men’s latrine… Why does gay sex intrigue so many women? I’m not saying ALL women – I’m just saying MANY women. Like this woma(e)n.

A few months ago I went to this really great gay club with a good friend of mine. I should really call her up one of these days to see if we can go back – I’m in the mood to stare. The club wasn’t in West Hollywood – as many might imagine – but in this really small kinda college-y city West of there, I think. I’m directionally impaired. The club looked like any other 18 and over club – and the parking lot was packed. I could feel the music through my feet as we walked into the club. And the men that were walking INTO that club were F-I-N-E – bold face – HUGE FONT Fine! I mean Gawgous! My friend kept elbowing me, too, because I was practically drooling from so much lucious eye food. Yes. I said it – EYE FOOD – because candy is a snack – but these boys were MEALS! So we get into the club – and make our way with great lovely green stamps on our hands that just screamed NOT LEGAL TO DRINK – and shoved our way politely to the dance floor. And there they were. All these wonderful specimens – all this eye food – dancing with other eye foods. I couldn’t believe it. My friend knew, of course, but I had no idea! And as politically incorrect as this may sound – these morsels of food did not look at all like the types of food that would be dancing with – well – other food. Which just made it all the hotter. My friend explained that this club was infamous for these type of men that did not look the part – most of which had girlfriends at home or wives or whatever – and were at the clubs Saturday nite shaking their groove thangs. There is something absolutely fantastic about gay sex – but even more so orgasmic when the gay sex is between men who don’t appear (and please forgive me for this… ) GAY. I know there is a word for that – and it’s not “butch” – but I can’t for the life of me remember…

So anyways – yeah. The student I helped MATRICULATE looks to be that type – the type you’d never in a million years take for the type that would be in the stall on his knees earning some money for some books. So my little 2 n’s – if you are reading this – THIS will be coming up again very very soon! *wink wink nudge nudge* And for those who are reading over this entry as fast as your little eyes can all the while shaking your head like “nah uh – not for me, dawg!” – I’ll give you this: I, being the now matriculated student and soon to be student in HONORS English can very easily switch around a few things (like the sex of the student for one) and give you a whole ‘nother type of fantasy. Don’t be scared. And judging from the post below and my extreme longing to be out on my own, I probably could be desperate enough (not really – but it’s YOUR fantasy! lol) to visit that little stall in the Men’s Restroom and …

I’ll be up pretty late tonight – I slept like a log after the gym earlier – and have more energy then I know what to do with. Of course I could prepare for my Government class on Tuesday but that would be just too… um. That wouldn’t be me. Wait. I’m responsible and matriculated…

Poli Sci here I come!

Can I at least just talk about it like it could actually happen, though? Like for a few paragraphs.

I would have my own room – well, actually my own MASTER BEDROOM complete with bath, ya know. That’s what that means! lol. And I would share the living space with my one and only roommate – and then I would have access to the pool (yeah – there is a pool) and the balcony. *sigh* It’s about 15 minutes from where I currently stay – and I would only have to really pay about 500-600 dollars a month. She’s having pity on me because well – I am a student, you know. It really sounds really nice. I really would like to do it. But then a part of me realizes that to make such a jump right now wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do. But then I figure I’m suppose to take risks and things at this point of my life, right? And then there is the whole roommate thing. I mean – I LOVE my potential roommate. She was my boss at one time and she is an absolute sweetheart. But then she doesn’t know about what I do either and do I really need to be in another situation where I’m hiding behind my “webdesign” business? And then there is the fact that I really don’t think my parents would go for me moving out. But I really want to. And then there is the matter about the puppy. I really want a puppy. But I know I can’t possibly afford a puppy, apartment, and my car. And then there is school, too. Everything points to staying put for another year or so except for my heart. And my heart tells me to move on out. I mean – I am SO there!!!

I could decorate my room my very own room and have a life outside of my families life – and I would still see them of course – but not EVERY minute – not that I do now – but it gets to feeling like that sometimes. And maybe I could have the puppy there, too – except my family really wants a puppy too and I think they were counting on being with me and the puppy for a bit of time. But then they could get their own puppy, too, right?

I’m fairly sure that this leap into adult hood is not going to happen for me for some time. I’m certain of it. But I would really like to be thrust into that world for a minute just to see how it feels on that side of the fence – in the deep end of the pool – on the grown up table – in that neck of the woods. I’d like to be sitting in a living room with my friend from work – and sit and talk to her about all the silly things that went on at school and plan little dinner parties together and things like that. I’d like to go shopping for a bedroom set – and sit on the balcony during warm summer nites like tonight and know that 500 dollars of the space was mine. I’d really like that.

Soon. But soon isn’t now. Cuz I’m responsible and I know my limitations – even when it sucks to be faced with the truth of the situation.

It was a nice few paragraphs while it lasted, though… wasn’t it?

But anyway, I glanced around the classroom and saw a few students in the back with ipods on, sipping their blended chai teas – oblivious to the fact that they were in class and that they might just need to, I don’t know, write a few notes every now and again. Across from me sat a boy that was so tall, his legs practically reached the desk top of the cute brown skinned girl directly in front of him. And then there was a girl way across the other side of the room that looked like a boy. She looked so much like a boy, in fact, that she could have really been a boy. Ya know – I don’t remember seeing any breasts on that boy. Maybe she really is a he. But due to her rather feminine sounding voice I’ll surmise she is a girl. She had on a baseball cap and wore the baggiest jeans I’ve ever seen…on a girl. She made comments to every single solitary thing the professor spoke about. Relevant or not, it didn’t seem to matter to her. A few students just gave up any pretense whatsoever and were sleeping soundly. And then there was me – amidst about 10 other students who sat oh so obediently at our desks with pencils posed, alert and ready to jot down anything that seemed important.

My professor handed out a stack of papers with assignments, required reading lists, and other things that were about as thick as the book for the class. And despite all of these things (his rather faulty premise of summer students, and obsession for hand outs) I quickly realized that I loved him. For under all of the required readings and assignments and threats to confiscate our cell phones if we couldn’t turn them off prior to entering his classroom was the seal of approval. My professor was a writer…a writer of hundreds of articles and at least 50 books. Sure, the books were about a subject that had the potential of putting me to sleep, but they were still BOOKS.

So the other day during class I paid special attention to my Dr. Prof Writer Extraordinaire. I wondered if he wrote from a mac or pc or a electric typewriter or a manual. I wondered how many other books he had sitting in his brain waiting to be written and if he really wrote as many letters to the editor as he … skip that. He does write letters to the editors and congressmen/women and anyone else who requires one. He seems to be about 60 or so – and when he lectures he always looks directly at me and somehow – even though government was never my favorite subject (dang – do I have ANY other favorite subjects other than English!!?? lol!) – to answer correctly. Somehow I knew what Article I, II, and III were about – and also managed to discuss at great length the different philosophers and writers responsible for the backbone of the constitution. By the time class ended today I had, in fact, several fantasies wrapped around my teacher. Stories like him bending me over one of the little desks after class and reciting the entire preamble to the constitution while he fucked me silly – or convincing me that giving him oral sex while studying the ammendments would make them “stick” better.

It’s going to be an interesting summer at college.

I started off my morning yesterday with the long call from my foot/butt friend. That doesn’t sound quite right – but I’m sure “he” knows what I’m referring to. And I promise I will send the pictures of the butt you so desperately need to see, hon. This afternoon when I got back from class guess who was waiting for me. (!!!) Yup – my new friend 2 n’s. And remember that 2 n’s happens to know a bit about this writing thing, too. I won’t disclose too much… but he knows a little somethin’ about a little somethin’. (wink). Keeping in mind that writers make me horny – we had a great time together. Laughed and drank in all the little details of a kinky fantasy – and even made peace with the little “one minute remaining” lady in the process. Thanks to the two of you for the great long calls (that would be 2 n’s and foot/butt – not 2 n’s and the 2 minute remaining lady!) – and also a great big thanks to Chris who found me up this morning and thought to give me a ring (and cum) before leaving for work. I was a bit worried that with my school schedule this summer and added hours at the gym that I wouldn’t have as much time to play on the phone. Perhaps all that worrying was a waste of energy, hmm?

Just a heads up for this weekend:

I will be out this evening. I have work and then I need to handle a birthday. Haven’t quite decided if I will be part of the present or the cake and icecream that follows. I have to wake up at about this same time tomorrow (Saturday AM) to go to work at the gym – and will be returning in the afternoon. I’ll be going to bed. Maybe for the first time since Thursday Evening. We’ll see. But I will log on late late tonight (Saturday morning) if time allows – Late Late Saturday Evening (cuz I’ll be sleeping earlier, remember?) and then I’ll be available Sunday Evening like usual… If there are times where you believe I am conscious shoot me an email and if I’m around I can log on for ya – but I’m not going to promise anything – fair?

So in summary: Friday: Off for the remainder of the night more than likely Sat: 10:00PM (pst) or later until I pass out… probably sometime around 4:00AM Sunday Morning. Sunday Afternoon – off and on … Monday early early morning: 12:00AM (that’s midnight Saturday PST…) till about 4:00AM…give or take an hour. *wink*

Smoochies on top of smoochies!

oh – and one last thing… thanks to my very bestest friend in the whole wide enormous world – Tashia – for fixing my wordpress for me yesterday. I had no idea what had happened – and she fixed it with in 5 minutes. She’s a brain. And thanks prematurely for the fantastic redesign you’re going to do for me on the blog and my listings! I can’t wait!!!