Mike, Karl, Dan, DocBen, Tiffy, Mack — and suddenly I started to wake up a little bit. not wake up like eyes open wide awake wakey wakey – but more like this thing inside of me woke up. The – “I need a plan” thing inside of me woke up. And while Tiffy was still sticky, I started to talk about Ohio State. Why? Because Ohio State happens to have a fricken hell of a writing program – one of the few colleges, actually, that offers a graduate school for creative writers to get their MASTERS. Mmhm. And they also have fricken awesome workshops held in the summer. And the college happens to be in a place that may actually be affordable in a few years. Sure, it’s Ohio, but I’ve lived in worse places (says quick apology to anyone living in Ohio). My Philosophy teacher is making my ears practically bleed talking about Berkeley. He asked me the other day if my GPA was a 3.0 (um – hello. Is my GPA a 3.0? Even with my earlier issues my GPA is well above a 3.0 thank you very much!) and if I would be interested in Berkley. “Apply for 5 schools” he told me. Ok. “Apply for more scholarships – you shouldn’t be paying anything for your education.” Okay – I still have to figure out some sort of a life so that I can fill out the application for the scholarships! Make a new plan, Sam. I swear I’ve said that before on here.

Even though I’ve continued going to school – and have managed 3 semesters with straight A’s — I need to step it up a little bit more and push myself just a little bit harder. I really don’t think that my philosophy teacher understands how unsatisfying a B is in PHILOSOPHY. I mean – seriously, dude. B’s are so not even last year for me. He thinks that 10 hours per paper is what is needed in order to squeeze an A out of him. I’m about to find 10 more hours to dedicate towards thinking and thinking and being confused which is basically, as I see it, the life of a philosopher. Move over How I Met Your Mother and make way for Hannah Arendt’s The Life of the Mind.

My friend recently alerted me to the fact that I don’t write about anything other than school, sleep, work, and my dog. I’m well aware that people my age should be out partying and having fun and living it up, etc., but as my callers know – I’m not typical. I don’t even pretend to be. I’m this ultra sensitive chick, that happens to enjoy listening to men cum, enjoys a great orgasm and some kinky age related, feminization, exchange of power, etc. play, loves a great book, a cool movie, and some sticky sweet soundtracks from some sickly sweet movie. I’m the girl who wears glasses, still has braces, adores Build A Bear Workshop, and still gets teary during the last chorus of Danny’s Song. The harmony is some of the best harmony ever, don’t front. You’ll get teary, too! I don’t care how that makes me look – it happens to be the truth! So sorry – I don’t have time to be typical right now. I have a plan. I gotta finish what I need to do — move on to a 4 year college – get done with what I need to do – and then go on to get my masters at a good graduate school. And time is a ticking. So what does this mean for you? You’ll be reading a little bit more because …well, I need to write more. I’ll probably be starting a new blog or at least adding a section to this blog for some of my extra writing things, AND – I’ll be heading back to work with my eye on the prize so to speak. No more time for moping this week, boys and girls. CeCe is on a mission!

My-Aunt-the-pharmacy has prescribed some heavy duty medicine for me the past few days to aid me with my sleeping issues – but I think I’m ready to try with out the aid. I’ll see ya tomorrow sometime. Until then … wish me luck. Keep me focused if you can. And if you aren’t able to do that, at least provide me with a great escape for as long as you are able (it will fuel my creativity, honest. )

Just kidding. LOL. But seriously – that man really knows the heart of a woman. I love Elton right now. Matter of fact, I’m going to put every single one of his albums on my wish list in hopes that some of my straight, masculine, macho clients will buy them for me. I made KIL listen to 4 Elton songs – and he has been changed for the better. We sang Don’t Go Breakin My Heart and it was fabulous. I was Elton, KIL was Kiki. He is now at the club down the street having a cosmopolitan. Anyway – a quick mention to everyone tonight for you know what – tomorrow I will be back on line and ready to rumble (or roll in the hay). Thank you Kylie, Tiffy, David, Dan, KIL, Tee, and my dear Doc Benway. Thank you all very much for cheering me on and loving Jack.

P. S. Just so I won’t forget: A girl in my Math Class called me a “stupid bitch” today – and I was instantly thankful to my trainer. She could have called me a “fat” bitch – or a “stupid blonde bitch” – but she just went with the “dumb bitch” as she ran through the door of the classroom… which tells me that not only is she the stupid bitch ( I have the highest grade in the class – the Professor told me as we chatted in his office while he ran his hands up and down my toned, thin, calves) but she’s way out of shape if she had to run through the door so I wouldn’t catch her stupid bitch ass and beat her with all the anger and resentment and heartache I’m holding inside. LOL! Wow… I kinda just told the story, didn’t I? Oh well, remind me about it because the whole story IS rather funny if I do say so myself.

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!

I am sorry my logging in has been so — random. I’m currently in the middle of finals preparation. I have 2 more weeks before the semester is done. I am looking forward to a week off before I do my online class during winter break – and then back to school with math and philosophy and a few labs during the Spring Semester. I’m taking donations for my books. Stop looking for the “lol” at the end of the sentence. There is none. I’m dead serious. Clicking and paying the $50 dollar tribute will buy a half of a book at my bookstore. Every half counts. If you don’t know what to get me for Xmas you can always send me a tip with the condition that I spend it on books and tuition and not lipgloss, pens, and toys for Jackson. Not that I would do that with tribute money. I’m very responsible.

I have a killer bruise on my wrist. I’m not sure if it’s from the Nazi or what is going on. It hurts to type. It’s turning a really neat greenish blue color – with a hard tender spot in the middle of the bruise. It’s almost on the bone – but no worries. It’s not broken. Unless that would get me out of doing my Geography project.

Oh! Do you know what today is? It’s my anniversary!! 2 years ago I started on NF. I should see who my oldest customer is (who still calls me. I had the whole new girl on the site popularity for about 2 weeks and I have not seen nor heard from those who stole my cherry since. They just came – (literally) threw me down on the bed – had their way with me – left me a few gold stars – and never looked back. *sniff* I was so nervous. And my braces were just new, too. I was lisping really horribly and I was so nervous that no one would understand me because I had recently had an expander put in that made me sound like I belonged on a special yellow bus. Tiffy — you’ve been around since almost the beginning, haven’t you? You were here before Rolf, that much I know. Joe was pretty new, too but he’s MIA. (watch him make an appearance now that I’ve mentioned his name. Silly Joe) And GreenLattern. He’s been around since my pre braces days. Kidding. Though I do have pictures of me before braces. I may put them up for all my guys who are mourning the passing of TEEN CeCe. These pictures will definitely put ya all in the mood. Crooked Teeth and all. You can practically smell the “Teen” on me! *wink* So yeah . 2 years. And it’s been a great time. I’ve met a whole lot of people and taken I think at last count – over 3000 calls total on all my listings. That’s a whole lotta “Oh God I’m Cummmmming!”s!!

I know you wanted some wine and crackers and a real hot naughty fantasy and stuff on our special day — but it’s going to have to wait until after this horrible project I’m knee deep in. I swear – if anyone wants to go from the southernmost tip of South America to the Baffin Islands – and need a few places along the way to site see and shit – let me know. I have about 13 places for you all mapped out. I can tell you how to dress for it, what parks are in the area, and what the topography is. And some day when I’m even OLDER than I am now – I will put all this to use, more than likely during dinner parties, where I will be rubbing my toes in my dinner date’s lap – giggling as he gets harder and harder and tries to cover up his excitement by clearing his throat.
730 days and 3000 calls later… I’m still enjoying what I do. It’s been a great ride — and I’m not getting off (the ride!) any time soon. No worries. This isn’t a good bye speech. It’s just a … Good God I’ve been around for a bit, haven’t I? speech.

More later. Wish me luck. And someone look up the biome of Topeka Kansas, please? I’m busy trying to figure out what mighty wind is blowing on La Serena Chile. And after I figure that out I have to solve World Peace via a few virtual hand jobs and slurps.
Hey… we all do our part.

It’s official. You are hearing it here first. I am no longer a teen. I turned the big 20 yesterday and sorry for not making a big deal out of it – but I just felt that it was an ending of sorts and definitely not one I wanted to face. I’ll try to explain a bit later in this post, but first I do need to say thank you for the boys who actually did remember my big day with out my typical pomp and circumstance I usually throw around here on my bday and Christmas’. I say that somewhat sarcastically… I just have not been one to announce the big day like that. It isn’t even a chance to test you guys to see if you will remember – I just think that bdays aren’t that big of a deal anymore – and I actually feel funny asking for things on that day, especially in today’s economy and so close to Christmas. I figure I’d prefer a Christmas gift anyway (grin). That’s what my family basically did: waited until Christmas and then made up for there somewhat pathetic bday gifts, always done at the last minute while shopping for the turkey. Not that I’m complaining. Much. So thank you: Tiffy, SBJ, Karl (VERY sweet gift, sweetie!!), Uncle Randy, and those of you who wished me happy Bday on our calls together. **MUAH**

But this year it was really one of those things I did not want to mention on here because I knew that if I announced it, I would have to figure out what I was going to do about the big departure from TEEN wet dream into the world of just wet dreams. I thought for awhile that I would retire once I reached the point where I could no longer call myself a teen. And I’m aware of the fact that there are some characters on Niteflirt who never age, and no one really cares … but just as my braces will eventually come off (less than a year and counting) so must I lose the “teen” in my name. How will it sound when someone calls me up and asks me how old I am, and I say “twenty.”? *click* I figured that retirement was as good an option as any. I wasn’t going to go suddenly. I would have had a party. Balloons, ice cream cake, a big candle in the shape of a penis. You know the kind. *wink* But yeah, I figured turning twenty was a sign to hang up my phone and headset and go into retirement.

I’m not going to retire. Come on. I’m not even done with school now, and there is a recession going on out there — and retail is not having a great time. Retail is what I’m best suited for, being a ‘young adult’ and all. So I’m going to sit still for a bit longer. I may change over to a different domain, but more than likely that will happen once my braces come off and I’ll turn into a young adult and leave the teen thing behind me. Even Peter Pan had to face growing up , you know.

So school is going. I got a perfect score on my Geography Map Quiz by the way. Ask me where the Canary Islands are. Go ahead, ask me! Geography is about to hit an intense level. We’re learning all about currents and wind patterns and other stuff I can’t even repeat…that’s how lost I am. But as lost as I am, I’m still getting a solid B+ in that class. After our field trip this weekend, I’m sure I’m getting an A+. We went to see the butterfly um .. what is it called? Farm? Reserve? and it was by far the prettiest thing I had ever seen. Then we went and looked at wave patterns on the beach. I’m not lying. We looked at wave patterns and then we also picked up rocks and tried to figure out what caused what topography. I kept on looking around this certain bend after hearing that that is where Santa Barbara University was. Can you imagine going to school on the damn beach? Come ON! Is it possible to get any work done at all? I saw quite a few students out tanning and surfing that day and also quite a few walking through the forests where the Butterflies hung in their little pods from the Eucalyptus trees. I have to go back there with Jackson. He’d freak out over the waves, but he’d really dig the Monarch butterflies, and the hike would wear his ass out big time!

English is a joke. I had mentioned once that I loved my teacher, but that love has quickly turned into a hate I can’t even express. I’m going to mention something in here now knowing that my readers will be sensitive and not ask me to do some sort of warped fantasy. I can do a fantasy about any other kinky freaky professor except for this guy – because it’s just too real to the truth. This is what happened. I wrote a paper about milk and how it’s not a good thing to drink. It’s an argumentative paper, I’m not going to get into it because I’m bored with it already. It’s a good paper but … yeah. Anyway – so I’m talking about milk and the milk commercials and I mention that it’s kind of sexual in nature, the whole milk above the lip thing and sexy models in these tank tops and fit bodies drinking it and blah blah blah. I don’t mean anything other than “sexual” in a very LOOSE term. Why the fuck did my teacher write on my paper “some people call it cum shots?” ???!!! Why???!!! Can anyone tell me in what world is that appropriate? I’m so not even lying. Not only did he write this on my paper, but then he announced it in my class that he wrote it on my paper too. While I was busy trying to figure out why the fuck he felt he could write something on my paper like that (to my knowledge he is not a caller!) I started to feel the eyes of every fuckin male student in my class looking at me wondering what it is that I knew that made the teacher write something like that on my paper. Seriously, I could feel them assessing me – checking me out in a very uncomfortable fashion. There are fantasies and then there are realities, and this, my friends, is a most creepy and gross reality. Before that gross comment my teacher has had other stupid things to say, too. About the Holocaust: “Get over it – lots of people have suffered.” About Koreans, “I didn’t know my son was mine … he ate so much rice I thought my wife had an affair with the postman … he’s Korean.” About Black people, “I told my friend once – hey – at least I can change color!” you get the picture. I was getting a C+ in my English class after I got straight B’s on my papers and Essay – but then I missed handing in a paper and got a C+. I handed in my paper last week though and I got a A- on it, but got counted down to a B+ due to it being late. Hey – I’ll fuckin take it. But I won’t take comments of cum shots on my paper. I still feel dirty – and I have done/talked about far more dirtier things in my life, trust me. Just somethin’ about a comment like that outside of niteflirt makes me way uneasy. Strange, huh?

In order to process all this stress of school and work and life and the uncertainty of our futures – I’ve taken my stress to the gym. I hired a nazi, let’s call her Elsa, and she kicks my ass 2 -3 times a week. I went to see her today and my finger tips hurt. I stepped up and down on a platform holding on to a weight that made me immediately decide against breast implants. My goodness – I practically tipped over holding onto 10 pound wheel of a weight. How ever do you big titty women keep your balance? Elsa says things to me like, “Do you want the easy way to do this next exercise, or are you ready for a challenge?” Damn her. How quickly she learns. All you have to do is put “easy” in front of something and “challenge” in front of the other choice – and you know I will do it. “So CeCe – do you want to deep throat me on your knees which is the easy way? Or do you want the challenge? You’ll be on the bed – on your back – with your head over the edge – and I’ll lower my 10 inches down your throat and you try not to gag. Which way do you want?” Shit! 10 inches of course!!! lol. In all honesty, though, I’m competitive as hell. It’s a good thing most of the time, but often I just set myself up for pain. Which I am experiencing now. But I love it. I absolutely love it. I love lifting weights, and doing girl pull ups, and doing balance work and core work and going 4.2 MPH on the treatmill on a 6.0 incline for 45 minutes. I enjoy sweating like a pig – walking out of the gym past all the muscle dudes, and knowing that I kicked my own ass and that I’m strong and capable and sweaty! It’s a great, great feeling. It’s also a great way to release a whole lot of worry, anger, grief, pain, etc. with out hurting anyone!

There are so many ways that we can deal with discomfort, hurt, stress, anger – and most of these ways that we use to cope will land us in the hospital soon enough. Cigarettes, overeating, stress, tempers, destructive lifestyles, not asking for help (or directions), etc. are just really counter-productive. One of the ladies I met while working at the gym a few years ago was diagnosed with Lung Cancer. I house sat for her – and she was so alive and energetic and … I can not even bear to call her up and talk with her. But I know I need to because she’s not going to be here for long. I promised myself that I would not be one of those x-smokers who nagged people to quit, and I’ve really kept that promise. But today I’m just going to end my long waited for post by saying that there are other ways to relieve stress. You could go look at some monarch butterflies or take a walk on the beach if you live in sunny southern California. You could join a gym – all the money you’d spend on cigs will surely pay for a membership, won’t it? You could also masturbate to a favorite movie or pictures (I will be updating my galleries very soon!!! I mean it this time!!!) or even call me for some release. However you decide to release some stress – I hope that you are able to release some so that you are more able to enjoy this holiday season coming up. You’ve all been such great gifts to me this year and I appreciate each and every one of you. Even calls that weren’t “perfect” or “five star” quality taught me a lot about myself and helped me to grow into the mature 20 year old I am today. Happy Holidays!! May your days and nights be Merry & Bright!

Tuesday: 11:00AM – 3:00PM, MIDNIGHT – 3:00AM – (later if needed)
Wednesday: 12:00PM – 3:00PM, off and on Wednesday evening – Thanksgiving preparations under way.
Thursday: Will try to log in once everyone passes out from the Turkey – but no promises. If I can make it it will be after 7:00PM PST.
Friday: TBA
Saturday: TBA
Sunday: TBA
*Feel free to make an appointment or email me if you need me to be available during a specific time for you. I will do my best to accommodate. *

Update to schedule: 11/26/08 — my late nites and school is catchin up with me! I’m actually going to take a nap. Yeah. A nap. It does a body good! I will be logging in and out intermittently throughout the next few days – but will try to keep you abreast of my comings and goings. How much innuendo can I use in a sentence?