Thoughtful Thursday: Bad Days

Yes, it has been one…

The phone did not charge on its charger…and thus did not wake me up.

I missed my coffee with an old friend as a result.

I spent all morning running errands and still did not get it all done.

And then I had to try and install the new TiVo box…have lived on the phone with those people for the past 8 days. And I HATE techie shit.

It is almost 9 at night and I still have not written  like I am supposed to.

Maybe like me, you need to be reminded…


That man challenges all my prejudices against rich, good-looking men…sometimes I think he should be called Johnny Deep instead of Depp.

REAL Woman Wednesday: Poetry

I am not normally a huge fan of poetry. I have my favorite poets (Frost, Barrett-Browning, Shakespeare and a couple more from schoo) and I stick to those. I would certainly never buy a poetry book.

BUT I am.

I discovered Becca Lee on Facebook of all places. Her poems kept appearing in my friends’ feed and I saved/liked so many of them that I liked her page myself.

I know it may seem strange to be talking about poetry on REAL Woman Wednesday, but the reason I like Becca so much is that her free-style verse speaks so eloquently of what it means to be a REAL woman today. See what I mean…


Then the other day, I noticed that she has actually published a book of poetry. I figure as often as I downloaded these images/memes I should at least buy the darn thing. And I think some of you might find it worth your while too…

Thistle and Thorns by Becca Lee – Hardcover and Paperback

So here is a sneak peek inside the actual book…and my favorite poem, the one that I think most embodies me…


And more on Facebook at Becca Lee Poetry.

One REAL woman to another.

Teaser Tuesday: Rings of Fire

So this week I wanted to give The Arrangement fans a glimpse of ‘Whatever Happened To.’ There is a really wonderful scene with Lauren, Jill and Simone…except it has too many spoilers…i.e. the twins Jill was pregnant with. So instead you are stuck with more of the comedy duo of Daniel (the straight guy) and Samuel (BDSM’s own version of slapstick humor). Enjoy…

Brent and Monique had no problem locating Samuel and Daniel. They were in the emergency bunker buried over twenty feet underground. It housed not only the stocks of essential items such as flour and grain, but an impressive arsenal of weapons. The likes of which made even Brent, who had learned to shoot a gun by the time he was five, more than a bit uncomfortable.

But Brent truly had lost his innocence. He had seen too many disaster zones. And he knew that if the toll Mother Nature could exact upon her pitiful creations were not enough, then the atrocities that men could enact upon one another were far worse.

While he was prepared to help any that were willing to work together to help themselves, he was not ready to leave his family or those he cared about open to attack from predators…animal or man.

So alongside bags of sugar, flour, coffee and now tea were grenades, rocket launchers and full automatic machine guns. Obtained on the black market and if that bothered his conscious, not as much as the thought of what might happen to his girls without such necessities.

“Hey, you two, how are things coming?” he asked the two best friends that had together become the heads of his security team. He never forgot to thank Fate that years ago in a bid to win some stupid Department of Defense contract his father had generously replaced his normal security team with undercover Navy SEALs.

The dark skinned man with the easy smile and wicked sense of humor was the first to respond, “Hey, Doc, you find time to come up for air with the Missus?”

Daniel playfully slapped his friend on the side of his head, “Leave the man alone, Samuel. It ain’t like you don’t find time for some afternoon delight with Simone.” The man turned to Monique with a smile, “Sorry, Ma’am.”

Monique only laughed, “Don’t worry, mon cheri. I said the same thing. Not that I would not enjoy burying my face between her tits and motor boating.”

Samuel and Monique laughed and high-fived as Brent and Daniel blushed. Brent cleared his throat after a moment, “Can we please get back to business, you two?”

“Sure, Doc, whatever you say. You’re the boss,” Samuel joked.

Brent shook his head and turned towards Daniel, “How are things coming? Are all the planes in position? Fueled and ready to go when we give the word?”

Daniel nodded his head, “Yes, Sir. Of course, those in Europe are our biggest concern right now. Declan is channeling as much Intel as he can…without breaking any laws or endangering his position, of course. But it looks like you got your family out just in time. Of course, trains, buses and boats are still able to keep most of Europe connected.”

He sighed, “But if you are right. If this is it. If other volcanos begin to erupt, especially Etna and Vesuvius then all bets are off. No telling what chaos destruction on that scale might cause. The EU is no better prepared for such a wide scale natural disaster than the US or anywhere else for that matter.”

Brent nodded his head. It was the sad truth, but as powerful as man liked to think himself, in the end Mother Nature held the ultimate power to annihilate the whole species if she wished. And what few remained would be more than glad to finish the job for her if left to their own devices.

“We still don’t have a clear enough timeframe to raise the alarm. But I’m hopeful that once Lauren has a go at the data we will have a better idea of what we are dealing with here.”

“Smart as she is pretty then?”

Daniel punched Samuel in the ribs, “That’s the man’s wife, buddy.”

“I’m sorry, Doc. It’s just so much fun having someone to tease besides the old man here. Not that I don’t enjoy his switchy ass, but damn…fresh meat,” he laughed. “You have to give Simone all your birth information and hers, so she can do your charts. Though she’s already decided that…”

“De stars be wif you,” Daniel and Samuel keeled over laughing and even Brent had to chuckle.

Until he looked over at Monique. He noticed her brushing her eyes with the back of her hand as she forced that fake smile wider. “Any word from Dwayne on that other matter?” he quizzed.

Samuel stopped laughing as he shook his head, “Last we heard was yesterday, right after you took off. He said that he had a lead he was following up in Rosarita, but we ordered him to get Chloe, the kids and as many of the non-essential personnel as he could to the staging area in West Virginia.”

Daniel broke in, “I’m sorry, Doc. I know we may have overstepped, but those are our family. And we figured that if you were concerned enough to kidnap yours then we needed to give ours the best chance possible.”

Brent smiled in reassurance, “No, that’s why I chose you two. If anything happens to me, or I am not around, you have the capability of making decisions on your own. The right ones too. As you said, I barely got Lauren and girls out of England. And when La Palma goes…”

Rings of FireThe potential consequences of that one did not even bear thinking about. The worst destruction he had ever seen had come not from a towering volcano but from normally calm, clear, warm waters. But if an earthquake had churned those waters to destroyed whole villages, kill hundreds of thousands of people and sweep life as they knew it away then he did not want to even consider what a mega-tsunami might do to all those countries around the Atlantic Ocean.

He drew his mind away from those dark days that had become the seeds of his new world view…and this project. “Once they get to the cabins of the bug out zone, please have him see if he can find out anything more. Have you heard from Travis either? He was supposed to be surfing somewhere around there in Baja California.”

“No, Doc, afraid not,” answered Daniel.

“We tried tracing his cell phone, but it is turned off or something. The last signal we got from it was in Rosarita like you said,” added Samuel.

“Damned irresponsible little brat,” Brent cursed as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Do not worry, mon cheri. Travis is a big boy. I am sure he will be fine. Even if he misses the plane, he knows where we are. I am sure he will find some way of getting here,” Monique put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

He shook his head as he covered her hand with his, “Thanks, Monique. I don’t know what I would have done without you these past few years.”

Samuel shook his head, “Doc, might I suggest you don’t do that shit around your missus.”

Brent tossed him a glare, “What? Lauren knows that Monique and I are friends. Have been for years. I’m sure…”

Monique broke out in giggles, “Oh, my sweet naïve friend. Samuel is perfectly right, mon ami. Your wife always sees green when it comes to me.”

“But…” he stammered as he shook her head.

His friend only smiled, “Oui, but Lauren does not know.”

He could not hold back laughter at an oversight that explained so much of the animosity between his wife and friend. Monique had been honest with him from the beginning so it just never occurred to him that Lauren had not figured out the score for herself. How could such an intelligent woman not have figured out the truth that was so blatantly staring her in the face?

He would, of course, have to straighten out the oversight. In his own sweet time. Until then perhaps a bit of the green-eyed monster might just serve his own purposes. The idea of Lauren being jealous of Monique while preposterous was more than a bit reassuring as well. After all you were not jealous of a man you no longer cared for…someone you were just using for sex. Now he just had to make his wife see the truth for herself.

Not that he had ever been any good at that.

Mommy Monday: Castles in the Sand

Last week was the first week of Spring. Not just officially, but in actuality. PanKwake and I managed to make it to the park…THREE times. Meaning that it was sunny and warm enough for my picky autistic child.

Of course, the park means one thing…sand castles. We have been building them for years. And we have HUNDREDS of photos of the ones we have built. You see when she was younger she had loads of trouble with the impermanence of them. If someone came along and knocked hers down, you could count on a MAJOR meltdown. Every single time.

Then one day an idea just magically came to me…take photographs with your phone. Then remind her that she will always have them. It worked! Except for the few times Mommy forgot to take pictures of course…bad Mommy. One day, I swear we are going to print them all out and do an artist exhibition in the living room of them.

But something special happened this week. One of those moments when I know that my beloved PanKwake is going to be just fine in the end. That she will find HER unique path to happiness, success and inclusion as much or as little as she wants with society.

We were building our sand castles when another of her Aspie friends came up. Emily had told me that someone said hello to her but she could not remember them. So when this little girl came up I reminded  Emily they knew one another from swimming and the pieces fell into place for her.

Now her little friend was at the park with another friend, who was not happy that she suddenly was engrossed in building sand castles with PanKwake. Three way friendships between women, no matter their age, is problematic, but wonderfully strong. Even as an adult, it takes work. So three little girls, two with high-functioning autism? But with a bit of help from me in terms of introductions and explanations about autism, those bumps were quickly smoothed over.

012Then the most miraculous thing happened…these three little girls worked together to build a whole sand village. 

Now that may not sound like much to you, but for the child that always has to be in control (times two remember) that is a major accomplishment. They even managed to include two other little girls, one very young, as helpers.

And I saw the years of work that I have put into PanKwake’s social skills finally begin to pay off. First of all, she actually allowed her friend to lead. Acceding to the plans and wishes of another is a major step forward for her. But if that was not enough, a couple of times when she did something that her friend did not like, she actually apologized!

I am sure you are asking…so what is the big deal with that? I make my kids apologize all the time.

Well, I don’t. I have not in years tried to force my child to apologize. Not since we left school behind. For one thing, why? An apology is meaningless if you have to force them. I would rather have one genuine apology from the heart than a thousand forced ones. And that is about the ratio I got…LOL!

The other thing that is significant is how she did. Her words were almost an exact mirror of the ones that I use when apologizing to her. “I’m sorry. My bad.” You see modelling the appropriate behaviors is how I teach my child social skills. Not by long lectures and forced compliance. But by living the values I want her to have. So I am the one that apologizes…and often.

To finally hear those words mirrored back to me…I turned my back so she would not see the tears in my eyes in that moment. Of course, later on when we were alone and more quiet I told her how proud I was of her for that (another of those values…praise).

That day was confirmation of all that I have worked for almost five years to accomplish. The things that I have sacrificed a career for, love and in some ways my own life to give her the best possible chance in life. And in that moment all those meltdowns…all the judgemental commitments of others…all the stress…was worth it.

Because she is worth so much more than all the success, money or things in this world. 

I only wish more parents were blessed with autistic children so they too could slow down and just enjoy the simply accomplishments of being a parent.

Serious Sunday: Transfiguration

Since it is Easter Sunday, I thought I would share a bit of how and why a good little Methodist girl, Sunday school teacher and former preacher’s wife became polytheistic and chose to worship a goddess of love and life.

Some of my first memories are sitting as quietly as I could through my Nanny’s Sunday school class filled with women in sixties, seventies and eighties. Note I said as good as I could, I was still swinging my little legs and kicking the chair with my tiny black patent leather Mary Janes, but these women still called me a ‘good girl’ and gave me a piece of peppermint for trying.

By the time I was thirteen I was indoctrinating others into it all by teaching Sunday school to younger children. My teen years were spent working on this and that church board  as the youth representative, even going to the annual state-wide conference. I planned events for other youth…and I earned more ‘good girls.’

Then my Nanny died in my late teens and I began my first ‘wild’ days. I did not loose my virginity until I was nineteen but I made up for it REAL quick. I worked as a stripper in Fort Lauderdale during Spring Break. I did drugs. I was anything but a ‘good girl.’

But that shit takes it toll on you very quickly and while I was not ready to return to the church, I did find a ‘regular’ job and begin to date ‘decent’ guys instead of a string of one-night stands. That was when I met ‘the preacher.’ Except when we met he was a good atheist and intellectual…and that suited me fine.

I suppose his ‘transfiguration’ is mostly my fault though. You see when our oldest was born I felt this nostalgia and wanted to give him the stability that I had known growing up. Mind you…I went to the most progressive church we could find. Heck, they sheltered an illegal refuse from ‘communist’ Nicaragua under the sanctuary clause. We even hoped to go there as ‘missionaries,’ meaning hippie communist sympathizers, but they did not want to assume responsibility for our infant son.

Then we made the fatal mistake of going to visit my ‘sperm donor.’ The man who had sired me and abandoned my pregnant mother and me. He had ‘found’ Jesus and was holier than though. Until it came to his REAL daughter. When I ratted her out for sneaking out to be with boys in the middle of the night…I was the bad one. And he and his new wife kicked us out.

Unfortunately, he had infected my ex with the ‘Jesus’ virus already. It took a couple of years to incubate as we stumbled through life with me once more earning our bread as a stripper and model. We even tried swinging.

But when things did not go his way, the ex immediately turned to the ‘Jesus’ bug. He said he had never felt that kind of ‘power.’ I held out for months. I had had enough of two-faced Christians as a teen. But eventually he wore me down and I got ‘saved.’

But see that is my root problem with Christianity…no god can ‘save’ you. Only you can do that for yourself. Truth is that for MOST (90+%) Christians, god and Jesus are just blanket excuses to continue with the same fucking personality flaws they came into it with. Then when things go wrong they can blame the devil and ask forgiveness of god. There is no REAL reason to change.

There is nothing different about them. They are just as greedy and selfish as the sinners they condemn. More so in fact as they too often judge your very spirituality upon your ‘blessings’ and the size of your tithes. While they drive new cars, live in mansions and build ever larger churches that stand vacate 90% of the time.

If they bothered to read their own Bibles they might actually realize that if their beloved Jesus did come back he would knock over their precious offering alters and take a flogger to the preachers. Yes, Jesus did that to hypocrites of his day, but people don’t like to remember that he did not always turn the other cheek.

As you know…once more I woke up. My eyes opened and I saw them for what they were. My ex never has…and remains as unchanged as he always was.

Granted…the next decade was more of my ‘bad girl’ stuff as I broke off the shackles of all those ‘thou shall nots’ and indulged my carnal flesh. But still I knew…there had to be something. Maybe I cannot worship (I did not say believe in…that is what polytheistic means) this Christian god and his son that allow such atrocities in their names…but there has to be SOMETHING?!?!

Then three years ago, right in the middle of my ‘sinful’ BDSM exploration, my goddess began to speak to me…about the most important thing of all…the only thing with the true power to save us…


Yes, I write about it. About the special bonds between a man and a woman…and sometimes three men and their woman…or five men and their two…or two men…three women. The truth is…it does not matter.

One of my most profound works got lost for a bit within an erotic anthology. Nothing Done in Love is so much more than that. It is the story of intergenerational transfiguration. The dying New Age guru mother’s love for her only child that spurs her to call upon the best friends that were lost themselves. Her final days spent meddling and matchmaking to give them all new birth, new life, through love.

My Sergeant Mike’s Miracle Tour series is just as transformative as he and Esther save one another. Even my naughtiest, BDSM, polyamorous Ægir’s trilogies have that same theme as the guys capture Kirsty and ‘save’ her from a meaningless existence…and she in turn heals them and unites them as the family they should be.

1546168_1988138944658699_4035570727948250637_nBut there is more than just love between individuals. That is not the only way to ‘salvation.’ Because if you spend your whole life waiting for some man…or woman…to save you then you are no different from those Christians and their Jesus.

No, the highest love of all…whether you love someone else or another god/goddess…the highest form of love is…


That is NOT easy. Because it requires you to look into the mirror of your soul. To see your ugly as well as your beauty. To forgive yourself for the mistakes of your past as surely as god or Jesus did. And most importantly to GROW. To CHANGE.

Not to merely keep making those same damned mistakes and coming back over and over to someone or something else to seek forgiveness.

Worse yet…it is a NEVER-ENDING process. Day after day, growing and changing. Even when you know that you will make more mistakes. Even though you know you will never achieve ‘perfection.’ Never ‘arrive.’ It is like taking a road trip with no set destination point…and just enjoying the ride.

So you see I have gone from the little girl and young woman, who looked to male gods to ‘save’ her and forgive her…to an imperfect but mature woman, who recognizes the truth in many forms, many faiths, many gods. And who chooses to worship a goddess of love, not because I expect her to forgive and ‘save.’ But who knows her truth…

I am the only one who can truly forgive, love and save myself. 

And only then am I truly capable of loving others…whether that be my children, my friends, this world…or especially someone (or ones) special, who is as whole as I am all by himself. You see two halves do not make a whole. Two wholes hold infinite power.

So join me this day is celebrating Easter by rising from the dead untruth of religion to the transformative power of learning to love and accept yourself. 

Goddess bless you.


Sensual Saturday: Oceans and Puddles

I am tired after a HUGE day with PanKwake. And I could preach a long ass sermon about this one but it all boils down to…


So why do otherwise intelligent women chase after and throw themselves at men who have shown they really are not all that into them?


Freaky Friday: Dirty Little Secret

NOT!!! No way! There’s the door let the knob hit you were the good goddess split you. Here is a hard learned lesson…I am NO ONE’s dirty little secret. If you aren’t proud to be with someone as intelligent, strong and kind as I am, then I am so outta here. Period. Full stop for you Brits.

So when I saw this meme…I saw RED…


That is NOT love…that is USING you. 

I don’t care if it is because of your tattoos/nose ring/purple hair, your weight or your kink. If a person is always hiding you from their friends and family…move the fuck on! Because if they aren’t proud of who you truly are, then they don’t deserve you.

Okay so MAYBE you gots to tone some things down a bit. Heck, even I was on my bestest behavior the first few times I met my future daughter-in-law. I did not want to scare her with my crazy until my son had his hooks in her. And even though she knows my crazy know…she loves me anyway. Because despite my kink and my weight, you won’t find many people who care more, love deeper or are there for you. And that is what truly counts.

I know this attitude is prevalent in the BDSM community where your kink and your vanilla life are kept separate sometimes. My first serious dom relationship…he would not even list our relationship on the kinky social media site. After a couple of months that should have been enough. And another dom (those are small Ds for a reason, folks), I had to change the sheets before I left. So his EX-wife did not find out. Yeah, that one got old and I told him where to stick it.

Contrast this with the man, who inspired my Ægir’s stories. We have never been anything more than friends with benefits. Our meetings have been few. But he truly is the captain of a merchant ship. On one of my visits, he ‘invited’ me to dine with him and the crew. What I did not realize was that meant on a raised dais at the Captain’s table with his crew looking on. And this was after me screaming so loudly in his cabin that half of them probably heard. But I tell you what…it felt damned good being shown off like some prize.

I am not saying that friends and family have to be involved from the beginning. Especially if children are involved. My PanKwake has met only two men in five years…and then only in passing. It takes time to know if something is going anywhere.

BUT if this is a pattern that lasts past the first couple of months…then my three month rule comes into play. Politely let them know how you feel. Either they correct it or for goddess sake…MOVE THE FUCK ON! Have more dignity than to allow someone to use you in secret like some worthless, disposable commodity.

This one is definitely another case of…

Have some dignity, bitches (or mitches)!