So just a quick note to say – yeah, I’m still up. I’m writing a paper. I’m on page one. So I’m going to get back to that shortly. BUT – I couldn’t help but mention how blogging isn’t such a bad thing sometimes because it brings me that much closer to all of you. I have to talk about N. for a bit (I won’t use your whole name – don’t worry – and until I give you your own nickname – N. it is. ) So N. calls me up and tells me he’s been stalking me – waiting for a chance to talk to me. He shows me his CeCe collection that makes me blush. He has picture galleries, videos, and little voice samples – and direct quotes from my latest blog on sharing my bed. “have you kicked him off your bed yet?” he asks me during our conversation. It always takes me a second to realize that he’s actually talking about my journal and that this means that he has in fact read the whole bloody thing and remembered the important details. And then he tells me a few important details of his own. And so we talk about our pets – and then we have phone sex – and while he makes sure I’m going to be okay – we talk more about everything. Business and school and home and growing up and cats and dogs and mice and men. And then we have more phone sex. And before we leave we talk and cuddle some more. I feel fortunate that the “mundane” things that I feel I sometimes write about on here – are things that make me that much more endearing to all of you. I’m glad that you can get a glimpse into what type of person I am – and that you can use that glimpse to either wait for a time when we can talk, or move on to the less than mundane person down the block. I like that every now and then (more times than not!) I get a caller on the other end of the phone that has memorized the top 5 posts, knows the few who comment and doesn’t dare join in for fear of never leaving the comment section, and yeah, knows the name of my dog. I love that this freedom somehow lends itself to most of you having the freedom to share with me – your fantasies, your kinks, your plans for the day or a few laughs about …well, anything. So – yeah. Somebody’s watching me. I’m glad it’s you.

I’m not sure what this weekend is going to hold – but it is going to be an adventure. One of my callers (He is going to be called Edward Lewis – I just NOW decided. He’ll know why) treated me SPECIFICALLY to a night in a rather upscale hotel with the only conditions being… I must first have hot phone sex with him from the hotel. Movies. Room service. Sauna. Pool. An evening away from home. I invited a friend for a bit – and she will more than likely stay for a long time. She hates hearing people breathing when she sleeps (omg – I have the quirkiest friends!) so she won’t stay the night because I do happen to breathe when I sleep. If she does spend the night, am I wrong to worry about my safety? Anyway, I decided that when she leaves, it might be a great time for me to either catch up on my sleep and take a long hot bath or watch some tv naked on the bed…OR… I could share part of the great time with all of you and log in on Saturday night and have some loud don’t need to hold anything back lets get a little crazy phone sex on Niteflirt. What do you think? Yeah. I decided it was too good an opportunity to not share with you all. So – I’ll know better what the time frame will be but more than likely I’ll sign in sometime around midnight ready to play. Check out time is 10am, isn’t it Edward? If so I’ll probably work 3 hours … 4 if I am able to… and then I will fall into bed, happy, content, and relaxed. Of course I’ll be on sometime tomorrow, too. After first taking a nap as it appears to be one of those all nighters for me. Let’s finish this up.

I got another 100 percent on my Math test today. I got 49 out of 56, but my homework points boosted my 49 to a 56. *whew* See? Why was I so worried. Can I just say that 3 of the questions I got wrong were completely stupid mistakes. I’m not saying I’m stupid, Tiffers, I’m just saying that I made some really careless mistakes. I need to watch those errors. Even my professor was surprised when I got 2 wrong on the first page. “CeCe – you got two wrong on the first page?!?” He said. I took my medicine. I don’t know what happened. So that’s done with. Later today I’ll get my philosophy test back. I’m hoping for a B.

I did have another test that I took. 4 hours of testing to see about my spatial and processing and memory skills. All my test scores came back above average except for my reading comprehension, writing, verbal, spelling (yeah – I’m laughing over that one, too) and … one other one I can’t remember (remember … aha. That will be funny in a few more sentences), in those areas I was far above average into the “gifted” realm. Yeah. Tiffy was fuckin right. I am brilliant. My memory and processing … a little below average. So you see. If I happen to forget who you are the next time you call, it’s not that I wasn’t paying attention, it’s that my memory really isn’t good! Ha! I have a very GOOD excuse/reason. Nah – it goes hand in hand with A.D.D. Bottom line? The Psychologist said I should aim to go to school and get my Master’s degree if I want. That I’m very capable and that I should have no problems with being a successful student. Even my Math competency was above average. yeah. Me and math – who woulda thunk.

So things are beginning to fall into place as far as my plan is concerned. I found out that I probably need to take a foreign language – and most English majors take Spanish for some reason. It’s recommended by one of the schools I’m considering – so… I also have a few more science classes that I need to complete along with my Math courses. Looks like another year and a half AT LEAST – probably 2 years due to the math requirement needed to transfer. Of course, I may get into the school with out having completed all of my math – but before I get a degree I gotta have it somewhere. I’m okay with the time frame. Slow and steady wins the race. Right?

So – I think I’ve pretty much caught everyone up on my life – and sufficiently dwindled more time away from having to write this essay that I don’t even know where to begin. It’s not even an essay, really, because if it was, I’d be done with it already. It’s more of some kind of report. I don’t know what the bleep it is. It’s a pain in my ass is what it is. haha!

Spin tomorrow morning, then class, then training in the late afternoon with the Nazi. Will log in when I’m awake – hopefully before Midnight. Email me before then if you need to. Oh wait – I have an appointment with my D. before then – and THEN training at the gym, nap, then log in. One day I’ll update that schedule of mine. Just remember how you can legally stalk me on twitter and I’ll try to update my niteflirt plans as they become clearer to me.

Talk soon – and thanks all – for the great chats/talks/emails. Mostly, thanks for keeping close watch. It feels good.

My 4 legged Maltese Son Jack has been acting up the past few days.  At first it was just little things, the occasional nip at the ankle – living up to little dog nick names (ankle biters).  Then it proceeded to taking shoes of the family out the doggy door.  And when all of these things resulted in further ignoring and punishing withdrawing of love and attention, Jackson started barking at trees for minutes, refusing to "come" when called, and basically being a spoiled dog. I decided that I had to put my foot down once and for all (away from his teeth) and nip his behavior issues in the bud.

After my spin class I stopped by the bike store and picked up my first pair of bike shoes (I tried them out for the first time on Wednesday.  What a difference they make.  Of course I was immediately stuck on the pedals and couldn’t get unstuck for a minute which was embarrassing…).  As I was going home, I passed a dog care center and stopped in for a look.

Jackson will need to fill out an application (I mean I will have to fill out an application) and then go through a screen process (Jackson will – I am pretty sure I would be able to play nicely with others, even if they are dogs) and if accepted he will be allowed to play in the play group.  I’m thinking one day a week will be a good thing for him.  It’s about all I can afford at this point, and I just want him to get out some of his aggressions.  Oh … let me stop lying.  I seriously want Jackson to get his furry ass beat.  I think if Jackson gets beat a little bit he’ll understand he doesn’t rule the world as I have told him from day one.  *shrugs*  A nice ass beating is all anyone really needs when they get full of themselves is my theory.  Someone has to put his furry little ass in his place — towards the back of the line.  I’m by no means dominant, but even I have had better luck with turning men into submissive subjects than I have had with Jackson.  He’s determined to be the boss no matter what I say.  See if the great dane can teach Jackson a thing or two about being alpha dog.  Grabbing the application and a few brochures, I was pretty sure this was the place for Jackson and I.  Wait a second…

"Do you by any chance have training here?"  I asked the kind lady.

"Yes we do.  The owner is an excellent trainer.  She works with the clicker and uses praise and never raises a hand to the dogs."

Well… that will all change once they meet Jackson, I thought to myself.

"We also have dance class."

"Oh?"

"Yes.  Dance class with the dogs.  They have a great time and it’s really great exercise for dogs and their humans." 

Dear God. "Wow… that sounds…." 

"I know.. it seems silly." Silly was not the word I was thinking, but okay. Silly.  "But the dogs really like it.  The owner has won contests with her dog.  They are really quite good."

Heading out of the door with promises that I would be back with the application & bribe money attached to it, I caught a few of the pictures on the wall.  I didn’t see any dancing dogs, but I did see quite a few happy people with their dogs.  It seemed clean and Mr. Great Dane seemed to be telling me that he’d take REAL good care of Jackson.  In a non romantic sexual way.  Not that there would be anything wrong with that. 

With animals on the brain, I spoke to Mr. Location confused Karl.  Somehow the topic came to talking with the animals, as in ‘What, Lassie? Timmy’s stuck in the well?’ talk to the animals.  We started to name the animals that spoke to humans.  Flipper, Lassie, Gentle Ben, Skippy.  Skippy?  I asked, laughing.  Skippy, Karl insisted.  And together we looked up this Skippy and found him playing the drums, playing the piano, gnawing through rope and cracking the codes on safes.  A Kangaroo that gave kisses and wrapped his razor sharp claws around a poor unsuspecting child.  Everyone should know by now that I am deathly afraid of Kangaroos.  Skippy didn’t help.  Hopping around like some Acid Tripped out Rabbit.  Ugh.

Though I caught the repeats of most of the talk to the animal shows, I still tear up every time I see gentle ben and Grizzly Adams.  It may be the beard (have a thing for those, remember?) or it might just be the Maybe song.  Whatever it is … animals sure can cheer you up even as they frustrate the hell out you, can’t they?  So in the spirit of … I dunno…Jackson getting accepted into Doggy Day Care (hopefully) I thought I would share some of the animals that we can talk to, who get us out of the jams, warn us of children stuck in wells, and entertain us with their musical and dancing abilities.

I will be logged in during the early afternoon tomorrow… then going to writing class.  You can catch me on Friday Evening for sure.  If you have a specific time you’d like to talk to me and are wondering if I’ll be around, you can always set up an appointment and I will get back to you as soon as I can to confirm.

Talk soon!

P.S.  Mr. Counselor… thank you. I still can’t quite believe it. You understand. 

P.P.S.  Everyone else:  I’ll explain in 5-7 days.

P.P.P.S.  Happy Birthday to my best girlie friend in the world, Tee. I hate myself for loving you. It’s a strange kinky type of relationship.

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.

The beginning of this post might read like a scene from some criminal trial.  Where were you on the nights of_______?  What can you tell us about the nights of _____ and _____ and ______ of January, Miss CeCe?  What you mean you don’t recall?  You don’t recall or you don’t wish to disclose the events of the evening of the …well, you know where this is all leading.  I do not have a clue where the time went which is typical CeCe.  I can tell you that a few evenings ago I was captured by my television set and could not tear myself away from the pomp and circumstance except to pee, work out, and eat — probably in that exact order.  I can tell you that when at last I removed myself from the tube o death and brain freeze, I realized that I had not logged in for more than 72 hours and had not spoken/twittered/emailed friends and loved ones (waves to Tiffy) in like forever.  Before that I have no idea what the hell I was doing.  And now it’s the season of "parental visitation" and you may only see me one more time before Easter.  I’m setting your sights low so as to ward off any extreme disappointments.

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…

I realize that a bunch of time has lapsed since my last confession entry and I’m sorry.  It had to be that way because things were literally just crazy for a few weeks there.  First, I was a victim of an online crime of gi-normous size and consequence (lol!) that resulted in my having to change my direct deposit bank and call up and wait long periods of time for everything to right itself after the horrible wrong that was done.  Then I had finals: a huge final in geography covering 7 chapters of wind patterns, clouds and rain stuff, erosion and other weathering stuff, and a few map quizzes thrown in for good measure.  And I almost forgot about the currents.  Ah, the lovely currents and trade, easterly and westerly winds.    I also had a final with my English Pervie Professor From Hell (EPPFH) which consisted of an in class essay on The Kite Runner and a 75 question extra credit grammar test.  Yeah.  It was a busy week.  After I survived finals I then crashed, only to log in and take a few calls between bouts of consciousness for about a week or so.  Then it was Christmas and shopping and wrapping and in between those things I still was trying to log on and work when I could.  I was also going to the gym because it was the only way I could regulate my anxiety during the finals and Christmas Shopping.  And then it was Christmas and now … almost the end of the year.  I had to come in and wish everyone "Happy Holidays" and hope for everyone a prosperous and enriched New Year.  Let’s save the New Year’s Resolutions, shall we?  Let’s just hope this next year is a bit more hopeful and a whole lot healthier for not only the Earth, but each other.  I fuckin sounded like Jerry Springer just then, didn’t I?

So as you can tell by this entry – I survived finals.  I tried to start early with my Geography Final – but I was still organizing my notes up until the moment I sat down to do the test.  I have this ritual, you see, of redoing all of my notes and reorganizing everything.  Before analysis (lol – doesn’t that sound so mature?!) I thought it was just another procrastination thing I did, but now that I’ve spoken to the good Dr for several months I realize that organizing and rewriting things is my way of remembering things.  The whole different color pens and pencils and illustrations and teaching other people about things I am learning, etc. is just my way of committing these things to my memory bank.  Apparently it works.  But not with out a whole lot of drama.  Because I am so visual with my learning, I made a trip to Office Depot, Staples less popular and rather geek-y younger brother.  Sorry, it’s true.  I walked into Office Depot because it was close to the gym I go to, with a goal in mind: Sticky notes.  50 dollars later I make my way to the counter where I start reassessing my purchases.  "Do you really need this, CeCe?  Nah.  Put it back.  What about these pens?  Yeah – definitely need to keep them.  But what about these?  Nah … put those back, too…"  So I set aside a few things and tell the Office Depot Clerk that I won’t be needing them but I’ll take the still substantial pile of things that looks like a good 40 bucks still, even after the "save".  This little clerk looks me in the eye, I kid you not!, and asks, "Can I ask you why you won’t be taking these items?"  …

"Pardon?!"

"Why don’t you want these?" He asks again, more boldly this time, his beady little cashier eyes burying their way into my very soul as if looking for the answer there.

…

…

Yeah.  That’s silence from me.  Because I can’t believe that in all my life I have never been questioned on my "go backs" before in a store, and I’m now considering whether or not this is a new practice in lieu of the "R" word (recession).

"Um.  It was an impulsive moment — and I realized I didn’t need those after all."

"Oh."  He says, still looking me in the eye uncomfortably while making no move to ring up my purchases I DO want, "because I was going to offer you a discount."

It’s now apparent that we’re having a little stare down.  I uncomfortably hold his gaze.  I don’t say a word.  He hasn’t offered me a discount, I don’t think there is a discount that exists, truth be told, and if there is a discount, I should have been aware of it when I walked in the store.  I’m not buying a car, here, I’m fuckin buying sticky notes and note cards and pens!

I win. He breaks my gaze, needing both eyes to locate the scan gun and the bar codes on my items. "Okay," he says with a nervous laugh,"Your total is 40.03."

I couldn’t get the hell out of that store fast enough.  Later, at the gym, I tell my Nazi trainer what has happened and her eyes get as big as mine must have been as she wonders, too, what will happen when she goes shopping later that evening.  Her shopping experience has been, in a blink of an eye, altered.  Ruined. "It’s a different world out there."  I warn her looking at her ominously. "I would suggest hiding the things you don’t want and not bringing them to the cashier with you to be put in the ‘go backs.’"  I say "go backs" making the quotation marks in the air as if to suggest that "go backs" is a historical word like cassette tapes — something that exists only as a fond memory in the corner of your mind.

"Yeah."  She says in a quiet scared voice.  "I don’t know what to do…"

Today I was in the area and I glanced over at The Office Depot Store.  For a moment the thought of pens lined up in their little shiny plastic containers called to me and just as I found myself weakening and answering to the call of the pretty ink, I was snapped into reality by the windows covered in ugly brown paper.  STORE CLOSED was written in black sharpie on the paper.  Maybe the question was just a sign of desperation and not a new adopted method of cashiering as I had feared.  I felt a bit bad for Office Depot.  But I’d be lying if I wasn’t a little bit relieved, too.

I didn’t even use my supplies from the store.  I didn’t get to the note cards, I was still copying over my information onto my notebook paper.  I did look up my grades for both English and Geography, however, and I managed to get 2 A’s.    Yeah me.  Perverted English teacher and Wind Patterns, Wave formations, and currents couldn’t stop me from achieving my A’s I so desperately wanted!

I also survived Christmas.  I managed to survive not giving everyone everything they wanted for Christmas, and even though I still have a few presents left to mail (Hey – there ARE 12 days of Christmas, are there not?!) I didn’t do so bad.  I realized this year that I so badly wanted to show the people I love how much I really did love and care for them and sometimes you just can’t do it with money because even if you had all the money you wanted (this is a long ass sentence that is need of a comma somewhere but I’m out of school right now so I’m not gonna bother, k?) you still couldn’t show someone how much you cared and loved them with a present.  It’s just not possible.  I use to think it was.  But it isn’t.  I mean – I don’t think there is one thing on my wish list that anyone could buy that would tell me exactly how much I mean to them.  I’ve had some great presents, don’t get me wrong, but I think that presents don’t transform their way into a feeling easily.  I tried to give gifts that represented a little bit of what I felt and how the other person made me feel, but … it’s hard.  Tiffy had to remind me several times that it’s the THOUGHT really — knowing that you crossed someone’s mind on a special day — that matters most.  I thought Tiffy was full of shit — but then I started to think of the things you all have given me and the fact that no matter the size of the gift or the price of the gift – the fact that you thought enough to send me a word, picture, tribute, gift, or smile made a huge impact on my life and did my spirit wonders.   Believe that.  So thank you all for the tributes, gifts, notes, calls, and "business" this year.  You have impacted my life with things you have said, delighted me with secrets you’ve entrusted me with, cheered me with gifts of your friendship, lusts, and fantasies (giggles), and truly impressed me with your courage in trusting me to hold your secrets safe.  I hope you never have to say "Pardon" to me (wink); that you know you can always "go back" and try something different or not at all.  Most of all, I wish you a very safe and blessed New Year full of every delight you can ever imagine.  If I’m invited to be a part of that in some part next year – great – but if you discover and hold tight to the delights you receive …. all the better.

Happy New Year, Friends!