typical arguement with my mother: type #1

In which my mother comes into my room to complain about lodger/solicitor/sister/ex boyfriend/family..

'I'm not gossiping, but...... *airs misgivings.*'

'Well you are a bit. Little bit gossipy.'

'No, it's not gossip, I just wanted to tell you that......*misgivings*'

'Well, I really don't want to get involved but, *suggests course of action*'

'No! That's not at all what I want to do about it. You're so hard about things. Why can't you be nice? Why can't you say 'oh, mummy, poor you, yes I can see why that's so hard/difficult/mean/uncalled for/unreasonable.'

'.........beeeecaaaause.... I don't think it is hard/difficult/mean/uncalled for/unreasonable.  *thinks... i think you might be being unreasonable.....*'

'Yes, but don't you see *repeats misgivings. Twice. Minimum*'

'Right, so, if it's a problem, why don't you do something about it?'

'WHY AREN'T YOU SYMPATHISING WITH MY PLIGHT???!!!!!!'

'.....there's a plight?'

'SAY YOU AGREE WITH ME!'

'but I don't.... I think you're wrong.'

'YOU DON'T LOVE ME'

'No, I just can't relate to your 'problem'. I offered you my opinion on it...?'

'You didn't say how sorry you were about my PLIGHT'

'Because... *sigh*. You don't want to hear my opinion if it doesn't match yours. That's not really how conversations work.......would it be better if I lied?'

'I think you should move out. You're a terrible person.'

*FACEPLANTS DESK*

This wasn't meant to happen....

I haven't exactly achieved my goals recently.

• Move out of my squat style wreck of a house.      .....Well....yes...but....I moved back to my Mum's..
• Move to London.           .......yeah..... about that......
• Get a job in London.            ........or... I could get a job in the local village....
• Work as a live in au pair or housekeeper.         ..............or.....as a barmaid. Barmaid is... fine.....?
• Stay single.                              ...........yeah... well.... we're not... exclusive... I don't think. ...
• Learn to drive.                  ....I'm getting there! Gimme half a minute. I'll book a lesson.....Soon..
• Lose weight.                     ........................PIE!.................

So, yeah. Apparently, I'm staying put a little longer. And.... *cough cough mumble* erm... *cough splutter learning to be a dominatrix mumble mumble*
What? Did somebody say something? I didn't hear that. What? Never mind then! Can't have been important! I'll be over here if you need anything! *innocent whistle, skips into the distance*


I did do a lot of thinking about what the boy had said about male submission. Not a subject I'm well versed in. I did my research. (I do love my research) I read things. I watched things. I thought about it. About him. About it in general, meh, take or leave it. About it in relation to him.... I got to admit... it did kinda start doing something for me!
Unexpectedly I found myself getting into the idea - whether it'll be a case of liking the theory over the practice remains to be seen - it might end up me with stage fright - standing there, proverbial (or otherwise) whip in hand, suddenly running out shouting 'I can't do this!'.
But, it does appeal a little to the more dramatic side of my nature. (Me? Dramatic? Dahhhling, PLEASE! Don't be so ridiculous! Drama queen? Rubbish! *flounces out*)
And I have to admit. With a body like his, he would look very good tied down and blindfolded. (look at the pretty! I get to PLAY! My shiny pretty plaything, mine!)
I generally only really go for big men. Tall, 6'1 minimum. Broad build. Big hands. Powerful. Essentially, men who look like they could physically overpower me with ease, because, while I'm submissive, I'm not an easy sub. I'm not meek and mild. I don't give in without a fight. 'Want to spank me? Got to catch me first, motherfucker! *runs for life*'
I wriggle. I tease. I make them fight for supremacy even though I have no interest in actually being top dog myself. The idea of dominating a man like that... hmm. Turn off, somehow. Yes, I like having them wrapped around my finger, but I want the rope wrapped around me too, not them.

But the boy... the boy is different. He's a little more compact. At only 2 inches taller than me, I can look him in the eyes. It's a more even match. He's fair game. (still x10 stronger than me, but shhhhh) I can get my hands around his wrists. I don't have to crane up to kiss him. We're on a level. And he is gorgeous. (And I'm hoping him not being massively tall will have the added bonus of shower sex without me getting 3 day backache. One lives in hope...)

I think maybe.... there may be a new side of me coming out to play......

.....is that it? Seriously?

Really???

I may have just become the man in the relationship. With a man.
So, yay, I have tamed 'the boy'. The boy comes to my house for the weekend. We go to bed.
Him: Yeah. I'm reaaally tired. Didn't sleep well. *peck on lips* G'night!
Me: *startled look on face. Tries to bury naughty thoughts.* Really? Oh. Oh.....Ok.
Decide I'm clearly hideous, or, having had to meet my mother coming over to mine, have utterly put him off. Sleep, and stew about the lack of sex, and resolve to end things the next day (or, if my mother was to blame, arrange to have her shot.)  This angry stewing means I have seriously bizarre dreams, involving various methods of him leaving, and wake several times in the night alarmed that the next morning hasn't happened yet, and suprised he's still sleeping soundly curled up next to me.
You hear that? Sleeping soundly. Yeah. How about that. No sign of insomnia now you've rejected my advances. AGAIN.
(Might have failed to mention the refusal to engage in special cuddles last time I saw him.. he cited it being a sunday night, and the need to get up early to decline sex. He went to have a shower (not that I'd had a chance to get him sweaty) and I (having been wanting to jump him the whole evening) sorted myself out. And I slept very well that night, thankyouverymuch.)
Not really a great start to what might be the beginnings of a relationship...
Although credit to the boy, he did make up for it in the morning. But still. New relationship? Whole weekend together? one quickie? That's it? I was feeling a little short changed.
I made him talk about it. What the hell is wrong, huh? HUH? Whatarewedoing?

• Turns out the boy is a little kinky. Well, hell, that's fine.
• Boy has same kink as me. Well hellooooo sailor*! we gonna get it ON! 

                         (*my kink is not sailors. I'd like to make that clear. Think of the song lyric 'in the navy....'. You with me? Yeah. Exactly. Totally not my thing.)

• Boy and I share more than that. We're on the same side of the kink.    ....oh.

Yeah, brain, that's what I thought. Oh. Bugger. How the hell is that going to work? Two submissives in bed? *imagines tumbleweed blowing across room*. Yeah. Oh. Two doms, fur will fly. Two subs... yeah. Hmm.

We decided to sleep on it. I decided to think hard on it....

I mean... the boy is pretty. Would be a shame to let him slip away.....

Oh my god, oh my god, yes, yes, YES!

found here.
I think I might get a little bloggy-crush on her..she even uses the stabby picture at the top of my blog as her profile picture *magic happy love thoughts*
And, that is an AWESOME use for a dead squirrel. And we all know I love dead things.
Incidently, I gutted and skinned my first rabbit with G the other day. I screamed and squirmed like a little girl handled it really well. Yeah. Professional like. And didn't make the head talk. Or the skinless corpse dance. ...Honest. *whistles and looks at the sky*