I know I didn’t post yesterday. I got home at 11:50 and I could have just thrown up a “hey. I’m blogging. Goodbye” post, I didn’t want to, since I basically did that the day before. I don’t know what my failure means. I’ve basically been struggling with my other goals as well, so I could start over… (sigh). We’ll see.

Today’s topic? Parents. They just don’t understand, yo!

So there are definitely secrets I keep from my parents. The biggest one being (surprise surprise) this job. But I have other little secrets my parents don’t know about. One of them is my obsession with nail polish and cosmetics of all kinds, really. But lately my obsession has stuck on nail polish and the monkey on my back hasn’t let go! So my dad made me a nail polish rack for Christmas. It’s really nice, too. Like really nice. I can’t even explain how nice it is. And he was so proud of it, but told me that I shouldn’t try to fill it up completely, since the rack can hold 200+ nail polishes. And I just kind of laughed. Nervously. And while I was breaking out into a sweat, I was trying to figure out a way I could ask my father to make 4 more of those racks for my entire collection.

Yeah. I said it.

And the really crappy thing about it is: the new collections have started to come out, and I already purged a lot of my polishes out. I got rid of tons of my mini nail polishes, and some of my LA colors that I picked up at various Ross’ and Dollar Tree stores. I probably can get rid of some of my Sinful Color nail polishes, because there really isn’t anything unique about a lot of the colors from that collection, and I’m not really married to the idea of picking up any more of them. They tend to release new collections that are basically the same fucking polish they released before, but they just add another name to it. I don’t like that. So … the more I think of it, the more I probably will just get rid of those. I’ll peak at them tomorrow and see if I start to cry at the thought of saying goodbye to them or not.

Where was I?

yeah – so my father has no idea. And he was talking about possibly selling these racks to suppliers and collectors. Cuz it’s an awesome rack (why do I feel like a guy describing some chick’s tits every time I say “rack”?). But he probably will sell it for $200. And I told him that was too much. He needs to make a cheaper one. And he told me that anyone who spends 5 bucks on a bottle of polish can afford to spend $200 bucks on a cool rack to show their collection off. I wanted to tell him I’d prefer to go to target and buy a plastic container, shove my polishes in there, and take the other 190 bucks and buy fingernail polish! But he wouldn’t understand. And he’d probably commit me.

That’s the only thing on my mind, currently. How my father will one day see what his daughter spends her money on and wonder where he went wrong. And I’ll tell him I’m sorry I disappointed him and didn’t become a missionary in Africa like he wanted. But things could always be worse. I could be spending all my money on drugs. Or shoes.

I feel like I should be on a ship or something – commenting about the crew and the weather and potential issues with icebergs. What I meant to imply by the title, however, was that I’m experiencing something greater than a block and more the size of a large log. That weak attempt at a description can only make for a more convincing illustration of my problem. I simply can not write. All weekend long I couldn’t write. I worked a hell of a lot. I talked to most of you and did a pretty decent job. But writing? Didn’t write a lick. And I blame my teacher for it.

S.N. has heard all about this already and has given me some stellar advice. Which I might take eventually. Especially since my way of dealing with it went so well (end sarcasm). Basically what happened is that my Professor told me that I was brilliant and that a piece of my writing was the best piece of writing she had read in the 10 years of teaching. And then she said a whole bunch of other stuff – basically about my talent and that she hoped I was planning on being a poet/writer and blah blah blah. And then she assigned a poem. And it’s due on Thursday. And I haven’t written anything. Because I suck. Everything I write is coming out like the biggest lump of trite, sappy, cliche bullshit ever written. She said she’d take a look at whatever I had written today and yeah – I don’t have anything to show her. And what I could show her would really make me die of embarrassment. And instead of writing my way out of this block I just keep pissing and moaning about being called brilliant. Which is really all I ever wanted. Imagine wanting to do something so bad and only needing a word from someone whose opinion you value (is that who’s or whose? I fricken can never remember that rule for some reason. I think it’s whose, right? Cuz it’s not who is opinion – it’s whose….let me dictionary.com it.. yep – WHOSE). So you finally get that “yup – this is what you should do” word from a person who knows what the fuck she’s talking about … you – or I – should be relieved, right? Which basically brings me to the conclusion I’ve known for a long time: you really can’t satisfy me. I am unsatisfiable. insatiable. hard to please.

Ok – enough of that.

I’ll get over it. Pressure has always made me shine like a diamond – UGH – enough of the horrible cliched madness, CeCe!

In other news – I approached a guy in my writing class and practically begged him to let me be in his group. He told me that I was at the top of his list. That makes me happy because no one wants to throw themselves on someone who doesn’t want to be bothered and also – so incredibly happy that I’m on the top of someone’s list, too. Shit – I must have blown away some people during our first reading, huh? Sure wish I knew what the hell I wrote that was so impressive…

I actually have a funny story about every class I’m taking. But I have to save something for another day. Let me just say for now that my Poetry class is seriously hilarious to me. There is one girl in my class that will make her way into my novel as the obnoxious typical poet/writer wanna be girl. I just want to be careful because she just might surprise us all with an awesome poem on Thursday while my muddled mess will sound something like a beat up recycled Anne Sexton poem that will make everyone else want to slit their wrists.

More Later.

P.S. Sending out the minutes for missed calls this past week (or two) now. Also for feedback and generally putting up with my whining ass.

That’s all I got. A minute.

But I wanted to update everyone on the goings on of CeCe. I’m going to let you all in on a secret – but I am not looking for sympathy. Really. It’s just a heads up type of thing.

First week of classes kicked my ass. Turns out taking 5 classes (mostly literature) is pretty dang difficult. But REALLY fun. I mean REALLY fun. I’m having a wonderful time. Most of my classes are flowing into the other and I feel like I’m finally getting the whole college experience. There’s been several moments where I have been seriously ELATED to be learning. And I read some really incredible text – that was really difficult to read on a whole comprehension level, you know? And I aced my first quiz and could have written an A paper on everything I had read. I just “got” it. It all started to make sense. All the history and literature classes and PHILOSOPHY classes and Political Science classes – all those classes finally met at one point this semester and it’s like the planets all aligned. I don’t know if I’m making sense but it’s a great feeling to be able to use all this learnin’.

The result is – I’m still trying to figure out where study time goes and where play time goes. I figure it might be another week before I can put up a schedule. I know I haven’t had an up to date one since I was 18 (she says tongue in cheek).

This is what I’m going to do in the meantime: I’m going to log in when I get a chance. I don’t know how long I will last – but I will be sending you free minutes if I miss a call. and don’t go fibbing because I get a report of who calls and who doesn’t answer! So please don’t hesitate to call if you see me on. If I don’t answer I’m probably drooling on my pillow, in class and forgot to turn off my phone line, grabbing a quick bite to eat or something like that. Again – if I miss your call I WILL send you a couple of minutes for next time as an incentive to try me again the next time I’m on.

I got to lay down for a bit. This up at 7 and to bed at 2:00AM is beginning to take a toll on my eyes! But tomorrow today is my last day before the weekend so it’s going to be PARTY PLAY TIME at CeCe’s for sure, though!

Hope to talk/play soon!

I think I have mentioned several times on my blog and in conversations with many of you, that I have a porn collection that would make the entire cast of Law & Order SVU blush. I’m not bragging. It’s kind of a confession. Or an opening for you to reassure me that you have more porn than me thereby making my sinful collection not seem so bad. Except I’m a woman. And women generally are not suppose to like porn. Especially the kind I like because of the whole degrading and putting women down kind of thing. Which is a little funny to me because last time I checked there were quite a few adult entertainers out there making a whole lot of money and living pretty authentic lives and … I’m probably preaching to the choir. Why I went off on that little tangent I suppose is because the world says I shouldn’t like porn and yet there are millions of women out there talking about porn, producing porn, doing porn, writing porn, and yeah – collecting porn. Me thinks there’s a big coverup going on…

So yeah- I own a lot of porn. Actually I don’t own a LOT anymore because you can get it for free with out subjecting your computer to serious venereal diseases/trojans and the like. No membership fees, no discs to hide in your documentary DVD cases in an obvious attempt to disguise them. Yeah – I know all about that. I’ve babysat before and all babysitters snoop. And eat all your good food in your pantry. And let your kids stay up way past their bedtime and eat tons of sugar and pizza. What? I had to get job security somehow!

I’ve seen my porn tastes develop and bloom over the last few years. At first it was enough to look at a picture, or even read a story. But now I like the actual sounds and the action. And before I enjoyed a great babysitting movie just like the next …uh…girl. But now I have an insatiable crush on Dirty Harry. And there are other things that I’ve developed a liking for, too. But they are private and I’d like to know who I’m confessing to. Although I do have a “going-to-go-to-hell-for-this” fantasy including confessionals, too, come to think of it.

The other day I was speaking to a new caller named Chris. We’ve talked a couple of times and I’m JUST getting to know him a bit better. He’s a gentleman — the rare new caller who asks me what types of things I like so we can both have a great time. It’s not a requirement — I definitely get pleasure when hearing you guys pleased. But it’s nice to have someone genuinely care about your orgasm and get paid for it. So we’re having some pillow talk and I mention my porn collection. I know that when you die things really won’t matter. I mean, you’re dead. But I’ve seen Ghost several times. And I believe there will be some Whoopi Goldberg that will be hired by some person in my life to contact my spirit that is just hanging around and thanks to that bitch I’ll have to sit around while my family members discover my huge collection of porn, vibrators, and .. yeah – compromising pictures of me and text and audio, etc. Not to freak anyone else out, but I think about shit like that all the time. Well, not all the time – but often enough that I sometimes lose a little bit of sleep over it. I think about it enough to have recently taken a close look at my diet and exercise regimen. I gotta stay alive as long as possible. At least to outlive my parents.

Well, Chris understood what I was talking about. And he mentioned that I need a porn buddy. I think that was the term he used. Not someone who sits around and masturbates over porn with you, but a buddy who will clean up your … um … messes when you die. Someone you can entrust your computer to when you’re gone. They can come in and manually douche out your cache and files and – take your hard drive and bury it with you or something – I don’t know. I suppose you can specify exactly what your porn buddy’s duties will be. This of course should be done prior to your untimely death. It all makes perfect sense! What a perfect answer to a most terrifying question that has been hanging over my little head for years!

I just wanted to share this with my callers in case they hadn’t thought about this option. And, because we’re all in this together, I wanted to offer my services, free of charge, really, to be your porn buddy. You can bequeath me all of your hard drives with all of your various porn and I will keep it nice and safe for you – far away from suspecting friends and family and your reputation will remain untarnished. I will destroy all toys, dresses, lingerie, wigs, etc. I will destroy all real dolls, pocket pussies and fleshlights. I will be your clean up woman, baby, ensuring that you will really rest in peace. Now who will be mine?

I have lots of things to do before I “sleep” though – so enough about all this morbid death talk. Although one should always be prepared for events that are unplanned, right? If you need help with any of it, or care to confess about why you would even need a porn buddy – give me a call.
You’ll be glad you did!

I have been SO busy the past week. Finishing up with summer classes and getting prepared for a full load (of classes naughty boys!) in the Fall. I don’t know if I’m biting off more than I can chew or if I’m just eager to finish up but I’ll be taking 4 classes. One on line and the rest on campus. I am sure I’ll have tons of writing to do because 3 of the classes are literature classes. I’m a little bit nervous to tell you the truth, but I’m also really excited to spread my wings and fly in the areas I excel at. We’ll see how things go. I’ll keep you posted.

This is really just a quick little post in between things – I’m about to go to a meeting and before that I need to shower and change. My friend and I (who lives next door) have been increasing our exercise quite a bit. I want to walk a half marathon this winter and I’m trying to get prepared for that. We’re up to five miles right now so we have quite a bit of work to do! On the days we’re not training for our marathon we’re biking. I’m finally putting my pink bike to work – and with out the basket for Jackson. He has to wait until I’m finished with my ride before he gets one! We biked for 10 miles the other day and at first I was kind of laughing at how easy it was. But I ride a bike with no gears (it’s a pink cruiser) and there were quite a bit of hills along the way. I got home and I walked like I had been fucking all morning. Use your imagination to give you whatever visual works for you! My thighs are still a little sore today.

So I’ll be logging in after my meeting – probably will log in around 8:00PM – 8:30 at the latest. After my bike ride tomorrow I’ll be hanging out so I hope to speak with some of you then. I’m off and biking/walking by 7:00AM PST these days so I know I’ve missed quite few of my morning guys. I’ll try to make it up to you on the weekend!

Hope your summer is ending on a great note. Stay cool (or dry!) and try to stay out of trouble unless I’m on the phone!

Come dream with me … you’ll be glad you did!