I have a very good friend - best really - who I occasionally live vicariously through. She has that type of life I always envisioned myself having in a few years: the hubby, the kids, a nice home in NYC, and every Christmas a tree that Martha Stewart would envy. A lot older and wiser than I am, she often gives me tidbits of advise that I gobble up like… I dunno … Skittles that have been sitting in your hand a little too long and have become soft and just a tad bit warm. Shit… that sounds kinda good.

Anyways - my friend, who I shall not name but anyone who knows me knows whom I am speaking, calls me up one day and is way upset. When she gets excited/mad her voice always raises up 2 more octaves and she sounds even more like Minnie Mouse with a ‘tude from the Bronx. It’s adorable.

“CeCe! He’s doing it again!”

“huh?” I ask - immediately turning down the volume on my phone to compensate for the volume of my friend. I turn it down to 5 and then after a moment turn it down to a two. It’s definitely sounding like a two volume conversation.

“He’s humping his pillow.”

“Ok - well … I guess these things happen.” I tell her in my most authorative voice. I remember reading something in Human Sexuality Class about masturbation in children - but not sure exactly what I read. Was it bad? Normal? A sign of something to come? (no pun intended)

“He’s doing it in the open in front of everyone.”

“Well… ok. Well that’s not so good then.” I say delicately while holding back my laughter.

“It’s not funny!”

Busted. “Ok - well - maybe you should just tell him to go into his room and do it.” I have no idea what the hell I’m talking about really. But I know my friend and she is upset. She probably said some things to her son that will forever scar him and I’m trying my best to do intervention with out sounding like I’m a know-it-all because I know nothing at this point. I’m not a Mom. Or I wasn’t then.

“I fuckin’ told him to stop fuckin his pillow!” My friend exploded. “His sister started laughing at him and told him he was gross.”

“But…” I interrupted passionately “He’ll get a damn complex! Do you want him calling up those lines and talking to a Mistress who will make fun of his thingee because that’s the only way he will be able to get off and it will all be because you made him feel ashamed of what is just natural?”

“Shut up, Ce!”

I could hear her softening on the other end and I continued carefully, “Masturbation is natural and it relieves stress! He just needs to do it in a more appropriate place. Can’t his daddy talk to him about it?”

“Shiiiiit” My friend sighed. It was a defeated “shit” though. Her anger was subsiding. “Maybe I should take his pillow away from him.” She considered.

“He’ll just find something else - and then he’ll learn to hide it and be ashamed of what he is doing instead of understanding there isn’t anything wrong with masturbating - he just needs to find a private place to do it because not everyone wants to see that kind of thing or somethin’.”

I was sounding more and more like a child therapist as the conversation went on. My friend must have thought so too - because she told me she would consider my advise and try harder to not freak out when her little boy was masturbating against various stuffed things in the house.

Before I took away Jackson’s manhood he was providing me with a certain sick sort of entertainment. He would take various stuffed animals - attack them - grabbing bits of their soft furry flesh in his teeth and shake the victim back and forth while making growling noises. Once he was sure they were …um … tamed (?) he would mount various parts of their bodies and go to work. Remembering my earlier conversations with my friend I decided to casually move the stuffed animal ala Jackson to a secluded part of the living room and go about my business. He would eventually stop and move on to other activities. I spoke casually about it to the Vet, relieved that he wasn’t humping people’s legs or other dogs in the doggy park (such things carry a serious stigmatization that aren’t easily discarded!) The vet insisted that once Jackson had the operation
he wouldn’t feel the need to do that often/ever. I had hope. At 6 months Jackson had the surgery and after he stopped glaring at me and his stitches healed he was back to doing the humpy dumpy. He had his favorite mates; The Zebra - an old child hood friend he hung out with, a toy bunny that he also had since he was 8 weeks old. Not “had” in that sense. Then there was the huge stuffed dog that I bought because I thought it would be cute if my little tiny doggy cuddled with a stuffed animal 5 times his size. Jackson prefers humping one of his legs and basically doesn’t even do the post-coital thing with the dog. He’s a love em fuck em and leave em kinda dog - what can I say?

I dealt with Jackson’s horniness because it was well contained inside of the home. No one knew that behind his little furry face that housed the sweetest, loving eyes and mischievous grin, he actually was Ron Jeremy to the stuffed animals in the house. I swear I fond a few of them hiding, fearing the way he casually tossed the others to the side after he had had their way with them.

A few weeks ago something happened - something BIG - and I realized that something had to change. I had a big decision to make. Only I could make it for him. I was the adult, the Mommy - and I had to really take my role in Jackson’s life seriously or he would harm himself.

Jackson’s penis got stuck.

All I remember is that he was having his special time with Ms. Zebra and um … he stopped - sated - and went about his business. I don’t look down there all that often because it’s his privates you know? And he gets shy sometimes. But I did happen to notice that there was something there that was kinda stuck. It usually goes back after a few licks or whatever (sorry - it’s natural!) and so I didn’t really worry about it. *sigh* This is a NF friendly blog - so please read that last sentence as it was intended: JACKSON licks himself and it goes back. Thanks. As I was saying… I wasn’t worried. But the next day I saw that it was still kinda peeking out as if to say “Hi - where’s the Zebra bitch - I’m ready for round 2 DAWG!!!” I quelled my fears and went about my business. I took Jackson for a walk where we ran across (of course) the adoring public who immediately wanted to pet my dog until he rolled onto his back displaying for the whole world to see his little Jackson. “Hi…” it said. “Where’s my Zebra bitch?” Embarrassed and shamed I quickly escorted Jackson back home and headed towards Google.

“My Dog’s Penis is stuck - what do I do?” Come on. What did you think I typed in there?

Minutes later I knew what I needed to do. I had to wade through ALOT of advise too. Butter, Neosporin, to massage or not massage?, until I finally stumbled upon the one thing I knew I could do. I had to ice my dog’s um “balls”. Carrying Jackson to the kitchen I opened up the freezer and grabbed a few ice cubes. Grabbing some paper towel I placed the ice cubes in it and turned Jackson onto his back, cradling him in my arms. His tongue escaped to give me a quick kiss.

“You’re not going to wanna kiss me after this…” I muttered and gently applied the ice.

Jackson’s expression shifted from curiosity to absolute disgust. “I don’t have any balls, stupid.” I heard him say. So I shifted the ice cubes up a bit to the base of his …”Oh - you’re the meanest mommy alive!” his eyes screamed at me and he started to squirm and close his legs at the same time.

“You need to stop humpin the dry ass animals!” I told Jackson.

“Um - I make do with what I have you cruel heartless woman!” He replied.

Looking past the Brawny that was now mush I saw that Jackson’s thingee was still out saying hello to the world. Considering butter for a brief moment (didn’t know where the damn Neosporin was!) I set Jackson down on the floor to consider my other options. I could call the Vet in the morning and HE could put that thing back in. I could try to push it back in…eeeew. No. I could … ‘Damn’ I interrupted my own thoughts, ‘I can’t believe I fuckin was icing my dog’s dick!’ Ok - so - the vet. I’ll bring Jack to the vet!

“Jackson!” I screamed suddenly. “Don’t lick it it will NEVER GO BACK IN!” I Rushed to Jackson to pick him up and interrupt his masturbatory experience - but as I got closer I noticed… The thingee was back in. My nightmare was over. My baby was going to live another day! And most importantly - I didn’t have to take him in to the vet to get his penis put back in.

The very next day I knew what I needed to do. I picked up all his “girlfriends” threw them into the washing machine on delicate and put a bit of wool light in there to make things all nice and soft. Once they were all washed I placed them all on the picnic table in the backyard to dry. I was planning on packing them up after they were nice and dry and giving them to Jackson on “special” occasions. I figured he could have a date night and he could go at it for a bit and I would then pick up the girls and put them away until next time. *sigh* Once the girls were on the picnic table though, Jackson wouldn’t leave me alone. He would go to the table - look up at the nice pieces of ass that were laid out there - and cry, whine, claw at the table legs and attempt to jump up to get them. After hours of this I finally relented and gave him his pieces of ass warning him to not get anything stuck - I still hadn’t found the Neosporin and I wasn’t in the mood to ice his nether regions again. He ignored me and went to work. Luckily nothing got stuck. I kept an eye on things.

So my big decision still is upon me. Do I take away Jackson’s … um … girlfriends again? Do I take away the only thing that brings him pleasure? Do I rob him of his sexuality just as I robbed him of his balls? Shouldn’t a little white Doggy have a little bit of boom boom if he wants it? Who is he hurting? The zebra really isn’t complaining. But if I let him continue to hump dry ass stuffed animals, his penis may very well get stuck again. He’s sort of asking for it by not using any lubrication, don’t you think?

I haven’t made up my mind…and I’m open to suggestions. I really am. A parent needs to do what is in the best interest of their child, you know. I’m suppose to protect him from the harsh realities of life - which I assume means stuck penis’.

My momma definitely didn’t tell me there would be days like this!

I once kept a dream journal at the advice of an English teacher. I never showed it to anyone - because I have those types of dreams that are absolutely with out a doubt revealing to the point of indecent exposure. There is no need for interpretation - or experts - or anything like that. My dreams have always been clear as a bell.

For instance, the other night I had a dream that I found a little polar bear wandering around in the woods. (Hey - no comments about my lack of geography knowledge…my dreams don’t know any better!) He was so cute. All white - with a little button nose and big black eyes and white eyelashes. He snuggled right up to me and I carried him home. We were such a cute pair - my little polar bear and I (lol!) and everyone was amazed at how cute he was. He was really well behaved too, considering. He would sleep in bed with me and snuggle up all nice and close and keep me really warm and his breath smelled like fresh fruit. He was absolutely with out a doubt adorable! Friends would come to visit us and at first they were all really positive about our relationship (grin) but later they started to give me these little comments like, “You know - bears are cute when they are cubs - but when they grow up they will be bears - and he may eventually maul you.” I would shrug off their comments, thinking them jealous more than concerned and continue on with my plan. But the bear began to grow up very fast. Every day his paws would get bigger - and though he was still as gentle as a lamb, I couldn’t help but wonder if my friends were correct. Could this bear grow up to forget about our relationship and go back to his “bear” tendencies? Could my bear be a threat to my safety and eventually kill me with out even realizing what he was doing? I started to look at my bear a bit more cautiously. And I started, too, to think of ways that I could “ditch” him. I thought of maybe bringing him to the local zoo but was not sure he would fit in with the others and was very concerned about how well he would be treated there. I thought about releasing him back into the woods from whence he came, but I worried that some hunters would come along and kill him for his fur (??). And then I woke up. Took Jackson out for his morning pee - and thought about how cute he was with his soft white fur and his little button nose and his big black eyes with white eyelashes. And as soon as Jackson was done watering his favorite tree, I got on the phone and called around for some dog trainers.

It’s not that Jackson is bad and I’m afraid of him mauling anyone. But he hasn’t outgrown his biting yet. He doesn’t bite you out of dominance or whatever, he just hasn’t realized that there are humans and there are dogs - and dogs can not play with humans the way they do with other dogs. He will run around your feet - play hide and seek with you - jump out at you with a silly grin on his face, toss you his favorite toy and dare you not to play with him. If you refuse his advances, he will lick your hand - then nip you. Then lick you. Then nip. I’ve taken to saying NO or OUCH to him as loud as possible and tapping him on the nose and he “gets” it but will still lick nip lick nip you until he grows tired of the nose batting he gets from it. He pushes the limits. Constantly. And if he wasn’t so damned adorable I would be more irritated than I am. One thing is clear though, this little nipping he does needs to be taken care of immediately. It is not attractive. He’s been doing it since he was way little and I’ve tried time outs, loud noises, squirting him in the face, etc. Nothing seems to break his spirit like the ass whooping I want to give him. I took a little test on line and realized that Jackson is a F student in obedience. Quite alarming after the 100 something bucks I paid for him to be socialized and learn basic manners when he was a puppy. He is willful, stubborn, and clearly all alpha omega, that dog. And something needs to be done, immediately. My dreams are telling me so.

The other part of my dream that I found very insightful was the whole polar thing. I’ve been learning about Phospholipids in biology lately. Yeah. Pretty dang interesting, right? It seems that in that class I’m always about 2 days behind in the learning curve. My professor will talk about phospholipids on Monday and by Friday I’m waking myself up after a dream about polar bears as pets thinking - Ooooooh! The LAYER is made up of the fatty part of the phospholipids and thus forming a BARRIER that water can not penetrate! Ooooooh. I get it. So yeah - interesting things, right? One part of that little thingee is polar and the other nonpolar. I think that’s a good balance, right? I think it’s also a really great insult to give to people who are unstable… “You’re like a phospholipid with no tail.” Clever right? Especially when the person has no idea what the hell one of those little phospholipids are! Anyway - all that to say I think that is the other reason why I was dreaming about polar bears. Some part of my life is extremely …out of balance, let’s say.

That’s all I have for you. No - really. That’s all I have. There is nothing left up there. *taps head so you can hear the empty hollow ring* I have TONS of homework this weekend. A lab test in Biology - along with about 5 chapters or so to read because I have a big test next week on all 8 chapters of Biology and I still have to work, sleep, play, and pee. I also have a government class that I should attend tomorrow morning bright and early. And I still am half way entertaining my relatives from out of town. Let’s not forget finding a trainer for my polar bear, finding some balance between life, work, school and stuff, and thinking of a topic for Monday’s topic. I will write more this weekend - but just wanted to check in really quick. I will be logged in for a few more minutes here - and then I’m going to take the rest of the afternoon off. If you want to speak to me please feel free to make an appointment with me. I will try logging on this evening for a few hours before bedtime. I just feel like having a little time to myself right now to enjoy the weather, catch up on some reading for school, and maybe even listen to some music.

Talk to you all very soon.

Take a listen.

So the gray skies really cleared up. Literally and figuratively! California’s “winter” consists of rain - and boy did it pour. Over the past few days (um - probably about 4 days in a row) California has been dowsed in a heavy duty layer of wet. If I was the kind of kid who believed that rain was God’s tears - I would seriously start packing up and contracting a local carpenter to build an ark. I’m not exactly sure how much rain actually fell on us - but it was significant. Jackson, now 89 percent potty trained (LOL! I like the looks of that - 89 percent…), suffered from a few set backs. One day I brought him inside with a towel draped over his head and his furry body tucked inside of my sweat shirt - placed him down on the floor for about 2 seconds too long and he proceeded to unleash a stream equal to the streams that gushed in the street gutters outside. Had he not peed this stream on a visitor I would have been impressed. Picking him up in mid-stream only soaked me and his little body and by the time I placed him on his potty pad reserved for rainy days - he was pretty empty and just looked up at me like - “um … was that really necessary?” The thunderstorms - or flood - or God’s tears - meant that Jackson would have to be entertained inside. It also meant no walks - no freedom - no smelling the pee and poo of other dogs in the neighborhood. It basically meant jail - and from that moment forth, Jackson organized and led his own revolt against the establishment (me.) He chewed thru an important media hub, he made a hole in his play pen, he barked and growled at my computer screen - especially when my browser pointed towards Niteflirt. He found a way to unzip (I’m not lying) his little bed I bought for him at Petsmart months ago - reach in with his little snout - and pull out every bit of foam in that “puppy” and distribute it all over my office floor. Not at all sated, Jackson then spent the remaining part of his sentence humping everything in site. Pillows, stuffed toys, my shoes, and his blankets were no longer safe and probably all have to attend some serious counseling to get over the trauma of a little furry marshmallow jack-hammering away. I’m sure if there was a tin cup around - Jackson would have found a way to run it across the “bars” of his prison cell…he was so not happy.

Jackson was not the only one who was suffering though. I found myself slowly slipping into this dreary rain induced coma. I had lots of projects to do - lots of new ideas to implement - but I could not find the energy to break thru the huge amount of code hell that poured down relentlessly around me. Um - not around me - ON me. With each project I felt that there was more and more and still more to accomplish. I was rowing along not so gently down the stream and I wasn’t getting anywhere. It wasn’t the type of depression really that I sometimes drift into around certain days - it was more about being frustrated. Overwhelmed. Fed - up.
So I called on a few people to help me out - some who were experiencing their own weather-causing hell - and some who really had no idea what to do to help me because I was so drenched I couldn’t even effectively communicate what exactly I needed! The AGONY!

A few days passed - and a few patches of sunlight managed to make an appearance before the rain proceeded - but I had some relief. But then before any rainbow could appear, the rains would come again.

Then Monday happened. Not a cloud in the sky. Blue skies - smiling at me. Nothing but blue skies. I don’t know what changed besides the weather - but I felt just the tiniest bit of … hope. I sat down - I discussed what I needed with SBJ, Tiffers, and Doc. I googled till I couldn’t google any more - and then I did something that amazes even me. I fuckin did it. Fuckin’ is so necessary right now. I downloaded the fuckin plug in - I uploaded the fuckin plug in - I read the directions backwards and forwards - promised endless blowjobs to Doc if he could help me figure out what the hell I was doing wrong to cause the damn fuckin thing to not load - and together we did it. We absolutely did it. I did it. It was my last minute ditch attempt to find a work around to something that hopefully eventually will be better - but for now it looks pretty damn good to me. This morning I woke up - ok, ok, ok - this AFTERNOON I woke up (I went to bed at 7:00AM - installing that fuckin plug in and talking to my callers in between - thank you ALL!!!) and sat down and started again. I found the damn RSS feed - though I am afraid to even mention it out of fear I’ll lose it again!, I found a website where I can upload my podcasts and where they will give my podcasts meaning (rss feeds, etc.), I uploaded and linked my voice samples to my listings (I maybe should have done 1 individual one per listing - but for now it’s set up as a play list - each time you push play it will cycle thru 3 voice samples… ), I worked out in between my accomplishments - took some more calls - redeemed 2 gift certificates for lovely presents on my wish list, received a pretty fricken terrific tribute from SBJ along with 3 cds (Free To Be You And Me, Carole King’s Tapestries, Carole King’s Greatest Hits), a dvd of FTBYAM, a book (FTBYAM), and a packet of about the loveliest pens EVER!, Vday chocolates and candy from Doc (he just knew I needed sustenance to continue on my hell-acious journey!) and several dozen calls from Tiffy (resulting in orgasmic bliss) to power me along. I realized as I jumped over hurdle after hurdle (once I got momentum that is) that I was actually now having a little bit of fun.

So I’m good. I have miraculously (well - thru drive, tears, sweat and many long pm’s and emails from my support staff - lol!) installed a plug in that will allow you all to listen to my podcasts - right here on the diary. I have also signed up for half a dozen pod communities where my show - YTWD - Come Dream With Me - will air proud and strong every Monday - starting Wednesday (lmfao) January 30, 2008. I did purchase the domain: YTWD Radio, which is still in the works. Eventually that will be the home for my podcast - but it is no longer detrimental/crucial. It will happen when it happens…

I will post the podcast to this very post after I have completely edited it. It’s running a bit long at the moment - but it might be due to the fact that I had to use 5 minutes to explain a whole lot about NF - not everyone who hears it will be a customer of mine - but here’s hoping (with in reason and time restraints) that many will be. Thank you to EVERYONE for helping me endure this mighty huge hurdle. A lot of you shouldered a lot of my anger, frustration, tears and sweat and I’m so damned relieved that I have something to fuckin’ show for it! Thank you SBJ (for the books, mic, pens, cds, gifts, etc!), Tiffers (for the coding support, shoulder, ear, pm box, cheers of elation when I succeeded, and presents - you know the ones I’m referring to!), Doc (for the candy, chocolates, cds, reading the directions slowly and carefully and making suggestions even though I snapped at you plenty of times for giving them to me, and for finally stumbling on the message board/comments where we found the one who helped me the most. What is his name, again? And yeah - I know I owe you blow jobs and sex for the rest of my life.), and even Rolf who managed to call me from Spain for a few minutes and briefly listened while enduring food poisoning to my woes and tribulations. And thank you Mama Tee. Even though you push me endlessly to be more independent and rely a bit more on my own resources and reading comprehension - I never really understood (or appreciated) how that would be valuable to me at times like this - when life and other circumstances render you unable to be at my beck and call. I learned a lot - as painful as it was - and while there is still so much more to learn, I feel that I can handle it. I still need you, you know - but at least I have a great appreciation for the things you have done for me - and a greater appreciation for the things I can accomplish when I’m pushed to the limit. You’re still my bff and I love you.

So to everyone who helped me thru yet another CeCe drama… This podcast is for you.

Thought I would quickly make a brief post updating everyone on updates, ytwd radio, my schedule for this week, and Jackson.
Come on - you didn’t seriously think I didn’t realize that most of you are wondering about Jackson, did you? I know who carries this blog and holds all of your affections in his little dirty paw!

First things first. It’s taking me awhile to figure out this whole podcast thingee. Seems the most simple part was figuring out audacity and adding tracks and actually talking. LOL. There is quite a bit more that I need to do - and it seems I completely didn’t take all of those other factors into account. I apologize. While I could just throw up a link here and have you listen as you did to the introduction - I really don’t like doing things like that. It doesn’t look the way I want it to - and the other alternatives would take more effort than I currently have the time to take. There is a bday celebration that is due to start in about 2 hours, and I have been spending this entire weekend on this project. CeCe needs to buy a card, purchase a present, and be part of the family for the evening. At least for a few hours. So … sorry that I broke my promise of the YTWD Radio jumping off on Monday. While it will jump off sometime soon, I hope, this monday is not the “sometime” I had originally planned on. My apologies.

Which brings me to my schedule. I usually try to log in on Mondays by 8:00PM. Due to the aforementioned bday Celebration I will be logging in later. Probably around 11:00PM - though I could show up a tad bit earlier. Count on me by 11:00PM and no one will be disappointed, okay?

At the risk of sounding really …. emotional (?) let me just end this post. I’m so disappointed that I couldn’t follow through on this project. Even though I know that eventually I’ll be able to deliver it to you - I still feel like I’ve made yet one more promise that I haven’t followed through on. I hate that I have become that kind of a person to ‘you’.

I will be on tonight and ready to work. Don’t worry - I’ll be in a much more upbeat mood. LOL. Just having one of those moments - and felt that expressing it here so I could let it go would be appropriate.

Oh - wait - Jack. He’s fine. His stitches are still in - he’s chewed through 2 things of value so far (and counting) and is currently napping at my feet looking all innocent and white (though he hasn’t had a bath since the operation and can’t until the stitches “dissolve”) and reminding me how lucky I am to have him. He’s brought a lot of joy to my life - which is really much more valuable than anything his teeth find to destroy. At least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself. *wink*