... Warning ...

THIS IS NOT THE MERRY CHRISTMAS POST YOU WANT TO READ... ALL TWO OF YOU READING THIS THIS MONTH WILL PROBABLY WANT TO MOVE ALONG TO MORE UPLIFTING BLOGS.

I should be all "Merry Christmas" and singing the praises of the holiday and a perfect day with family blah blah. I tried really hard to be in the spirit. Up until about 10 minutes I tried.

I hate to say it, but this day is the perfect ending to a totally fucked up year.

I decided to spoil C because she is doing so well in school. I bought her an ipod touch. $200. Spent the morning getting her set up with an allowance on itunes etc. What is she doing? Reading books. Hasn't even blinked at the ipod.

Mrs got me a new TV for our bedroom. OUR bedroom, not even really my room per se. The box was smashed. TV smashed. She's pretty sure it wasn't like that when she got it. Maybe super-chain-retail store will take it back.

Mrs' family was supposed to be here at noon. It is now 1:38 and they called to say they haven't left yet. Fucking perfect. Cold Christmas dinner.

Sandy... yeah Sandy... nuff said.

ADDENDUM

Yeah.. fucking awesome.. Dinner lasted 10 minutes before MIL stormed off.

She got here 2 hours late. I knew things could not go well. I tried to compose myself. As soon as I walked in the room she came after me. "You just wake up? You look like shit". No "sorry I'm late". No "Merry Christmas". I never said a word. I tried my best to walk away and regroup. I know I was grumpy. Blood sugar low. 2 hours to stew. I tried to walk away. From behind me I hear "I don't have to be treated like that. I can sit by my damned self at home". I went into our room to try to put on a better face. She left. End game. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Sorry for being such a downer. I apologize if you did not move along and actually read this.

Ho Ho Ho

I call this blog Pluff Mud MUSINGS... not Pluff Mud LOGIC AND REASON. Today in Pluffland, we crack open the proverbial lid and let it all tumble out. There's no rhyme or reason to today's post so turn away.. read.. be forewarned.

I have several email accounts. You can divide them into 3 categories. Work, personal, and REALLY personal. My work account is pretty obvious. Work right. My personal account is for all conversations not pertaining to work, but that I can feel free to leave up on my browser AT work. Friends, shooting stuff etc. all go through that account. Then there's the REALLY personal account. You my dear friends have that account off to my sidebar --------------------->>>>>

This is a lot of lead up to say, man I hate it when I see the little new mail notice for either of the personal accounts, only to eagerly open the mailbox through whatever client happens to be close at hand and see "15% off all tie died dildos" or "You just won 10,000,000 lbs" (cause clearly I'm in England right??) I see that little (1) beside the gmail Icon and I think "oooh.. I wonder who that could be".. click.. wait.... wait.. awww fuug.. just spam... sniff...

I'm used to the endless stream of crap from work. I've had that account for 20 years. Way before spam. Certainly before spam catching appliances. That's 20 years of that address getting scraped, bought, sold, stolen from open directories (back from the day). Add to that the constant stream of automated notifications from systems blah blah.

Topic Shift

I don't know what it is. Or rather, maybe I do know the root cause, but I'm not willing to admit it. I've had this feeling of impending doom deep in my gut. Some days it's stronger than others. I just feel like something really bad is coming. Like I'm going to drive through my neighborhood and some kid is going to sprint in front of my car. Or I'm going to get robbed or someone is going to get shot at a match.. MY match. I don't know what. I just can't get over it. I don't know.

Topic Shift

Moving on to better things. This year, I actually got all of my shopping done early. Or earlyISH compared to previous years. Usually I would start thinking about shipping things today thinking "eh well if it gets there it gets there if not.... oh well not" But I actually took time off of work to go out and buy stuff. I even went so far as to buy stocking stuffers. It's like I'm.. prepared or something.. blech what a weird feeling that is.

Topic Shift

There are days when I wonder if we are doing the right things for C. We switched her schools back in September. She was in a decent school before. It was K-6. The new school is the top school for her age in the Nation (public school). It is K-8. It was a tough choice. She LOVED her old school. She thrived. The new school has a lot more opportunities. Their curriculum is very advanced. She had been on a waiting list for the school for 5 years (we got her on the list when she was 5). We were afraid in those 5 years, as good of a school as she was in, she would not be at the same level as the kids in this new school.

On top of that, she is taking violin. Dance, Cotillion. Dance and Cotillion aren't really that big of a deal. But her violin teacher is a real slave driver. He pushes her hard. In many ways I wonder if it's too much. She seems to love it. We keep asking her if this is what she really wants. We even told her it's ok if she wants to do something else. No she says. She likes it.

Then last night she said something that reminded me of how brilliant her little brain is. I mean all parents are proud of their kid and believe their kid is the brightest and best. But I think this deserves serious consideration as truly brilliant. Last night the family was talking and cutting up. Much laughter. Somehow the Cat came up. C started chasing him around trying to pick him up. I can't seem to get through to her (one not brilliant thing) that animals and especially cats are not stuffed animals. They like attention... to a point. She finally bribed the cat out with a treat. Then picked him up, plopped on the couch and put him in a bear hug (not really but she held him tight). The cat is VERY patient with her. Way more than I would be. He tolerated it. But I had to step in after a minute and say "let the cat go... they don't like being held for a long time like that". Then I said, "you have to use reverse psychology on a cat. That is to say, when you want to hold them, you ignore them. That drives them nuts and they come to you to sit in your lap". She replied "It's like Rumpleteazer"... stunned silence from both Mrs and me. Then she said "Wait.. not Rumpleteazer... it's an R cat". Then she ran into her play room and got Old Possum's Book of Cats (freakin TS Elliot). "Rumtum Tugger". Then she read us the poem.

C is 10. TEN! Busting out TS Elliot references at TEN! Brilliant.

It's moments like those that make me feel REALLY good about spoiling her rotten. She's going to have a good Christmas! :)

And with that, I'm done rambling.

If I don't post again, Have a VERY Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!

and then my nipples fell off...

my angst has not subsided. Work, Sandy, general malaise.. but fuck it, let's not dwell right this moment.

I spent last week up in the WAY north of Wisconsin for training. Boss, female coworker formally dubbed PP in the distant archive, and myself all traveling together for almost a week.

I left Monday right before lunch. On the way to the airport, nay, as I was trying to get into the long term parking lot, I got a phone call from my bank. Evidently, my debit card was used to purchase $600 of photos. So card cancelled as I'm leaving town. Awesome number 1 moment. Fortunately I have a credit card to get me through the trip.

I guess you can't get to Madison from anywhere directly. We had a 3 hour layover in Chicago for a 20 minute flight to Madison. On the plane, PP sat behind me, Boss across the aisle, and a very attractive young woman was next to me in the window.

The plane taxied. We're a pretty chatty bunch so we're talking and joking it up. The girl next to me asked "So what are you going to Madison for?". I told her we were there to train on a system our company is installing. She said is it "Fantastic System?" It was in fact. She said "So am I". Then another guy behind us, evidently eavesdropping (fucker) chimed in "me too". I guess the whole short bus.. er.. plane was full of people going to training at "Fantastic System".

Let me interject about the short plane... it WAS in fact the airline equivalent of the short bus. We weren't on one of the prop planes. But barely a step up from that. I like the concept of the "express" flights now. But damn they are cramped ass planes.

Anyway, back to the girl. She introduced herself as Brandi. We started chit chatting about our roles with the software and comparing notes. As the plane was on approach (let's face it, it was on final the moment the wheels came off the ground), she asked what hotel we are staying at.

Let me give a quick background about "Fantastic System", these guys decided they wanted to break the mold when it came to their campus. They bought 500-1000 acres of farm land and plopped down this super, high tech, ultra-modern campus complete with a massive training facility. To give you an idea of the size, just the training building is the size of a convention center. In fact, it has a 8,000 seat auditorium attached to it. It is also literally in the middle of nowhere. The view out our windows is of cows, and barns. There are only 2 maybe 3 hotels in this part of the Madison area and they pretty much keep them full day in and day out with people coming for training like myself.

So there was a 50/50 chance Brandi was staying at the same hotel as us. And of course she was or this wouldn't make much of a story.. or more of a story.

Our group was debating whether or not our travel person made shuttle arrangements from the airport to the hotel. Brandi chimed in "I have a shuttle, you can share with me if you want"

As it turns out, we were ALL set to be on the shuttle. We piled in. The trip to the hotel took 20 minutes. We were cutting up having a ball. Brandi asked if we had dinner plans.

The hotel has a Happy Hour for priority club members with free beer and wine for a couple of hours. The shuttle was arriving right in the middle of happy hour. We told Brandi "first, we're headed to the bar for many free beers. But then we don't have any plans but want to eat somewhere". She asked if she could hang out with us. This is going to be a pattern btw. We seem to collect stragglers. Who are we to argue??

Got to my room. Had a decent suite on the executive floor. Came back down. Boss was already hitting the beer. I grabbed mine. Then Brandi came up. We were knocking them back and chatting.. knocking more back.. chatting more.. I noticed Brandi didn't have a drink. I offered to get her one. She said "I'll just have water. I don't really drink". Hmm.. so all we talked about on the plane and shuttle was hitting the happy hour. You opted to hang with us but you don't drink... mkay whatever.

We made arrangements to get transportation to a bar and grill right around the corner (hey it was 20 fucking degrees and this southern boy was cold). PP had sort of disappeared when we got to the hotel. Turns out, she got airsick and was trying to recover. So Brandi, Boss, and I piled into a shuttle for the 2 minute drive to the bar and grill.

At this point we started to get a weird vibe off of Brandi. I guess she was cool hanging out with the guys as long as PP was around, but suddenly she was out, in a strange town, with 2 strange guys she just met. I think she started getting paranoid.

Dinner was cool. She was sitting next to me in a booth. I noticed she was constantly watching her phone. It took me a few minutes to figure out what she was doing. She was looking at pictures of her 1 yr old girl. As the night went on, we started to realize this was her first time away from home... ever. And certainly her first time ever leaving her baby.

We went back to the hotel at something like 8:30. As we were walking in Brandi said "Nice meeting you" and walked off. Which told me that's the last time we were going to see her.

The next morning I had an "incident" with my toilet. It overflowed and wouldn't quit running. I complained to the manager who promised to fix it (heh).

The entire hotel met in the lobby to catch shuttle buses out to "Fantastic System" for training. No Brandi.

Classes were boring as hell. The part we're doing is unbelievably complicated and cryptic. We finished up around 4:30 and started piling back into shuttle buses to take us back to the hotel. Guess who sat down next to us? Brandi. I guess we missed the mark on that one.

Of course we were back in time for happy hour. We made arrangements to go to dinner. While drinking beer and chatting, this guys started talking to us. Or rather, he just kind of joined our conversation. Turns out he was probably one of 3 people in the entire hotel NOT going to "Fantastic System" for training. Paul, was from Milwaukee and was taking a class on some design software.

We were about to go to dinner when Paul asked if he could tag along. Straggler number 2. Again, who are we to argue. This time it was Boss, PP, Paul, and myself.

Nothing really exciting happened at dinner. We were all tired and our brains were hurting from class so our group decided to call it a night. This was the point in the trip where things started to turn south travel wise for me. I got back to my room. Went to the bathroom. Flushed and immediately it overflowed and wouldn't quit running. Long story short, I got downgraded to a crappy ass queen room RIGHT on the pool.

The next morning we all did the bus shuffle thing again. Our bus had Brandi and a bunch of people from her company who met her. We were all chatting when we hear from the front of the bus "yeah that guy Paul was out of control!!". Our heads popped around. "Paul?? You guys know Paul?? We went to dinner with Paul". Laughter from behind us now. "Oh yeah THAT guy Paul! Bwahahaaaa"

As we were getting off the bus Brandi leaned over and said to us "yeah there's a story with Paul but I'll have to tell you later".

That night we were back at happy hour (are you seeing a trend here??). Brandi came walking up with a friend, Carmen. (straggler number 3). We talked. They didn't have dinner plans. We already had a shuttle coming for us. Easy enough to add them.

While we were waiting, Brandi told us what went on. Evidently, when the rest of us went back to our rooms after dinner, Paul went to the bar, found a group of people (Brandi's group) and said "You guys look like fun. Can I hang with you?" Alcohol flowed. People got drunk. Paul evidently leaned back in a chair, broke it, while falling kicked a glass coffee table and shattered it. Management got involved. THEN.. according to Brandi, something happened with him and another girl in their group.

While she was telling us this, guess who walked up. Paul. He wanted to tag along for dinner. This was getting good so of course we said sure.

At dinner we had beer.. chatted. more beer.. more chatting. Finally, the story came up. Of course, us guys had to dig at him a bit. "Come on.. something happened.. who was she". Paul: "no no.. nothing happened.. just broke a chair".. us: "Come on man there was a whole bus talking this morning.. something happened".. Paul: "no no.. I mean we just made out a bit" us: "WHOAA.. first nothing, now making out.. come on.. you're a horrible poker player.. what happened!" Paul: "no.. really it was nothing.. we just went back to her room and made out a little".. us: "WAIT WAIT.. NOW you tell us you went back to her room and NOTHING more than a little making out??? Bullshit!!" Paul: "No.. really we just made out then she said I should leave". At this point he was looking everywhere but at us. I'm a horrible poker player but I would LOVE to play this guy. The WORST liar ever. We kept after him. Finally he said "no really.. nothing much.. I mean.. is it cheating if.. have you ever done.." he paused "have you ever done the wieners and boobs?"

We fell out laughing. I mean who calls it wieners and boobs. And of course if you have to ask "is it cheating if"... you KNOW the damned answer.

Not long after the girls got up to go to the bathroom. Paul leaned over and said "Do you really want to know the whole story. Basically I'm taking avacor for hair loss. I found out, last night, one of the side effects is you can't get it up. So there... I couldn't get it up. Nothing happened beyond fooling around". Stunned silence. I mean, I don't know of many guys who would tell that to complete strangers.

Nothing else much happened at dinner except we met Gracie (straggler number.. ah hell I lost count now). On the way back to the hotel we were talking about THE girl, Cindy. The driver heard us talking and shouted "Cindy?? That girls fucking crazy. Man she said she wanted a pizza. I told her I could get her one. She said if I did she would give me the best blow job!! So I ran out and got her a damned pizza!!! Didn't have time to get the blow job but I'm checking her out tonight!!"

We were dying laughing now because poor Paul was just shrinking lower and lower in his seat.

We got back to the hotel. As soon as we walked in the door we saw Brandi's other group of people including THE girl. Of course we had to check this whole situation out.

We were standing around chatting. The only seat available was on the hearth of the fireplace next to Cindy. I plopped my troublemaking ass down right next to her. Paul sat in a chair opposite me.

The whole group talked. Joked etc. The more we talked, the more Cindy turned towards me and away from Paul. Then the touching started. She would pat my knee. Touch my thigh. Laugh and swat my arm. Paul got quieter and quieter. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

Eventually a few people in that group turned the conversation in a bad direction. Racist jokes. Talking about people bringing dead babies to the hospital. People started leaving the group. Including Cindy. Not 10 seconds after she left, Paul jumped up and bolted.

Sadly, that's the last I heard of the Paul story. I would LOVE to know if he went to her room and what happened.

The next day people started flying out. We were stuck there until Saturday morning.

Brandi left. I didn't even know her last name or how to contact her so I don't really have any way of finding out either.

My trip back sucked. First, our flight was at 6:30am. Which meant we had to leave the hotel no later than 5am.. meaning waking up at 4:30am. We went to bed early Fri night. But, because I got downgraded to a shitty room by the pool, all I heard was kids running up and down the hall until midnight. Then I couldn't sleep. I thought about how things have gone with Sandy over the last couple of weeks. Something is different. Probably for the better. But something has changed.

I watched the clock go from 12:30 to 1, to 2:30, to 3:15, to 4am. Finally I said fuck it and got up.

We got to the airport with only about 45 minutes to go to our flight. The cab driver stopped to get someone else on the way who wasn't ready and added 10 minutes.

I rushed to the counter to get my bag checked. A guy came over and said "6:25 flight to Chicago?? Yeah it got cancelled" Fuuuuuuuuuck.

30 Minutes later they had our next flights sorted out. I was supposed to get home at noon. 3 flights, many hours of waiting later I got home at 6pm. 6 fucking hours late on no sleep.

And oh yeah.. when we left... 3 degrees.. THREE..

Dark Side

I should probably just shut up and go to a corner for a while.

I'm in a serious funk. I would say it has been due to recent interactions with Sandy. But that's only part of it. Perhaps contributing to the depths to which I'm sinking. But really it's only part.

We spent Thanksgiving with my Mom. I was on the edge of foul the entire time. I couldn't stand being there. I wanted to be home.. or rather in my city, with Sandy. There were days where we didn't talk or txt. Those were the worst. Then we'd talk and I would be in a much better mood for a bit.

My sister and I got into it at one point. Alcohol, wrong thing said at the wrong time, drama queen. Yeah it was a moment.

We came back on Saturday just in time to watch my team get decimated. The next day I had to run some errands. I used the time as an excuse to see Sandy. We went to lunch. Then back to her place. Nothing really happened. I couldn't stay too long and she had plans with her family too. We hugged. Brief kiss. Then I left.

She is out of town for the week at a shooting event. We talked a couple of times before she left but she was busy getting ready and I have a ton of work stuff.

The stuff we ordered from the week before came in. She had them at her house. Since I am going out of town next Mon and she gets back next monday, there isn't really a chance for our paths to cross. So she offered for me to use her spare key to get them from her house. Ok, so I'm sort of getting a key to her house. Interesting.

I couldn't make it over until Wed night. Between the time she left and Wed. night, her niece went over to her house for something and took the key. So now I couldn't get in to get my stuff. We had some calls/texts etc. to figure it out. I was going to meet her niece there and pick up the stuff.

Hmm.. so now I won't be alone in her house. Is it trust? Or circumstances? Not a problem though. Wasn't planning anything untowards.

The niece was 30 minutes late. I was about to give up. While waiting I had a thought about this whole rifle thing. The one with the promised blow job. I have some of the parts she needs now. I thought, I can pick up what she has. Put the parts on it for her while she's gone.

So the niece got there, I walked in, grabbed the clothes we ordered, then looked at the box where all of her parts had been. Gone. Empty. Except for some miscellaneous stuff. Which means she took it all with her to her event. So what the fuck does that mean?

I've been thinking about this over and over. I just don't know. I think she likes the notion of me. But deep down she doesn't want to commit to anyone. Last week, she posted one of those viral pictures on her FB wall. It said something to the effect of "when you really matter to someone, they will always make time. No excuses. No lies. No broken promises". Obviously it's a passive aggressive message to someone. It was conveniently posted while I was at my Moms. But I don't really think it was for me. Her ex-BF "liked" the post.

Which got me to thinking more. Am I reading her whole situation wrong. I was always believing she wanted him to commit and propose to her, but he wouldn't. So she gave up. But really, was he experiencing the same thing as me? Always having to "step to her" instead of her ever stepping to him? Always demanding things but never offering? Is that the reason he never proposed? Because he felt she was unapproachable? Obviously they were dating so she was approachable to a point. But what I mean is, she put him off about their relationship the same way she pushes me away with even simple things?

So I'm pulling myself back. I don't know if I can be successful. But I'll try.

This is just part of my angst. I still loathe being at home. And I have NO reason to. Mrs is sweet. Attentive. Perfect in every way except I just don't want to be there.

Even more than that. I don't want to be any where. When I come to work all I can see is negative. I'm in a job that I settled for after the job from hell fell through. I don't feel like I really have respect. When I go to work out, I exercise. I go through the motions. I even hit it like my life depends on it. But there is a social aspect there. And I really feel like I'm outside of it. I can't describe it. But I have the sense of tolerance and not acceptance.

Even when shooting, I just feel like I'm on edge.. or people are on edge around me. I just feel out of place EVERY where.

Goin to Wisconsin

consin.. consin.. goin to wisconsin... yeah I don't think so...

I leave next week for the frozen north. Yeah this Southern boy is headed to Madison in FUCKING DECEMBER!!! Yeehaw.

Any blogger peeps in that area?

Games games

I titled the post "games". But I honestly don't think that's the case.

Sandy and I have been close. Very close. Our conversations have shifted directions many times and I don't know which end is up any more. I'll probably close comments because, frankly, I know what they will be and I don't really want to hear it. This is me thinking out loud, which is what this blog was supposed to be about for me anyway.

Context shift:

Sandy and were friendly. There was the 2 year period where we just didn't talk. I've covered it in the archives. You can dig if you wish or if you REALLY want I'll post some links. Suffice it to say we wouldn't even stand in the same room together for 2 years. My choice. I hated every second of those 2 years. More than she will ever know or believe.

I regretted how I walked away and I wanted to at least talk to her and try to at be acquaintances if nothing else. When "the" incident happened, there was a perfect moment. We were alone. She hugged me (in condolence). I apologized for the last 2 years. It was over. The years were somewhat behind us. And we were acquaintances.

The summer came and went. We occasionally chit chatted about shooting. Matches. Etc. Separately, we travelled to a match in the middle of the country. She left the event the same time my friend and I did. We caravaned for about 7 hours. At a point, she was so tired she couldn't drive. I switched cars and drove. She napped. We had idle chit chat. Finally, we all hit a point where we had to stop for the night. All of us shared a room. No big deal. Got the room. Slept. Left the next morning in separate cars.

We continued to be acquaintances even after that. An occasional phone call. I was keeping my distance. She was still dating her BF. I had no intention of stepping back into that and frankly, didn't want to hear any of it.

Then, the sign happened. I had asked her a question about shooting in email earlier in the day. After "it" went down, She responded saying she needed a drink. At that particular moment, so did I. We met at a bar.

I tried to keep it nonchalant. First, she and her BF split up about 1 week after the last match. Then she started telling me how horny she was. How bad she needed to get laid. I finally told her, unless it pertained to me, I don't want to hear about her sex life. It didn't really deter her. Finally we left the bar. She gave me a hug and held on. For more than just a moment. Then she said "people are going to talk" and pulled away.

We've talked several times a day ever since.

We had a match a few weeks ago in mid-state city. She was going to be there alone. I was going to be there alone. We decided to hang out a fair amount after shooting and working etc. The first night of the match, a mutual buddy invited me to dinner. I was helping him set up for the match. I hadn't talked to her. He said "I don't think Sandy has plans either so why don't you come over". I assumed he meant both of us. I ran into her as we were finishing up. She said "You're going to dinner.. RIGHT". We were in front of people so I thought the emphasis meant "yes... go to dinner". I said yes and left.

I tried calling her several times. She didn't answer. I texted her and asked her what time she was going to dinner. No response. Then my buddy called and said be at his house at X:00. I got there, no Sandy. No show. No word. No nothing.

After dinner I went back to the hotel and didn't really sleep wondering what the hell just happened. Was she out with someone? Was she pissed? Was she just playing games? At 6am she texted. "You up?" I responded. She said "I wasn't invited to dinner". Hmm..

We met at the range. She said "I thought we were going out but then you said you were going to dinner at XX's house". WTF? Obviously a miscommunication. So I said "Look I can't read minds. If you want to do something, say so. How about this, do you want to do something after we finish today?? See how this works? I ask for what I want and you say yes or no." She said yes.

That night a bunch of us ended up going to dinner together. She stopped by my hotel on the way and had a drink. After dinner she was taking me back. I invited her up for another drink. She said "I'm not going to fuck you tonight". Uhh.. ok. Now, I would be lying if I said I didn't think there was the possibility. But I've learned over the years to not expect ANYTHING when it comes to her. Really, I just wanted some company, a drink. IF something else happened oh well.

She came up to the room. We had a couple of drinks. We talked about the past. Finally she said she had to leave. No biggie. I gave her a hug at the door and she said "I'm sorry I didn't fuck you tonight". I quipped "Tomorrow??" She answered, "We'll see... perhaps" and left.

The next day was the last day of the event. We both planned to drive home after. Mrs was out of town so I actually had the night to myself. On the way I called her and asked if she wanted to get dinner. I talked about this briefly in a recent post. We went to dinner. Conversation was "normal". We got back to her place. She asked for a massage. She lay down on the floor. I said, jokingly, really, this would be easier without clothes and started to lift her shirt. I expected her to stop me but she didn't. I started rubbing her back. Her bra was in the way and since I had already lifted the shirt I went ahead and unsnapped the bra. I massaged. She moaned. She said "I could so pimp you out". I said "Pimp? No this is only for you". I'm not sure what she said next. But essentially I leaned over her to say something in her ear. I don't remember what. Her hands were at her side and they sort of cupped my knees (I was straddling her legs to rub her back). I lowered my mouth to her back and started kissing down her spine. She said "That's not a massage". I asked "Do you want me to stop?". She said "No". So I continued. She moaned. I moved my mouth to her sides. I guess it tickled. She squirmed. I went back to her back and she moaned more. Her hands rubbed the sides of my knees. I was taking it all as a sign of approval.

After a few minutes I was getting tired so I moved beside her and rubbed her back. We were both exhausted and soon we were both asleep. It was nice.

I woke up about 15 minutes later with a massive crick in my neck. I said "I need to get in a bed". She got up and sat in a chair across the room from me. I took that as a sign "A" bed was not HER bed. So I gathered my stuff and started to leave. At the door, she leaned in close and held me tight. For a long time. And we kissed. Then I left.

The next day she said "I thought you were going to come to bed but you left". Fuck did I miss something?? Oh well.

Sandy has had a lot of trouble with her gun. That thing is the most unreliable thing I've ever seen. I offered to try to help her fix it. After the big match she was fixated on some other equipment we use as her problem (not true but she was convinced). She asked me to come over and look at it. I went. She made dinner. We had drinks. She started asking me questions. About us. Serious questions. At one point she asked "What happens when I bring a date to the range? You're going to be pissed". I asked "What happens when I go home?". She said "If you're ok with it then I'm ok with it". I said "So you're saying your ok with us having a relationship as long as I'm ok with your dates and you're ok with me going home?". She said "Sure". I didn't wait another second, I moved closer and kissed her. She kissed me back. Then she said "But not tonight". Ok whatever. Not sure what else happened that night but I left.

We continue to talk many times a day. We went to lunch once or twice. She is semi-partners (I haven't totally figured out how this is working) with her sister in a girly type store. Basically I think the sister uses her credit card to buy products and occasionally Sandy works at the store whatever that makes her. They also sell some clothing. Mostly to do custom embroidery. As in a company or group wants shirts with a design embroidered. They have shirts for that. But the suppliers have other items too. I will be going to Wi. again soon for training. Sandy offered to let me peruse the catalogs and order fleece etc. at cost. She said "Come over and we'll look at the catalogs and you can pick what you want".

I went over last Wed night. My day was extremely hectic. We had planned an upgrade on my big project system for 4pm. My part went exactly as planned. I left the office for her house. On the way over, other people's pieces of the upgrade did not go well and they needed ME. I got to her house. She ordered pizza. I got the laptop out and went to work. She handed me a drink. It took about an hour but I finally got my crisis over.

While all of this was going on she was handing me drinks. She was drinking drinks. We were pretty well lubricated. She showed me the catalog, we debated a lot of items and finally settled on some. Then we moved to the couch. She leaned against me. She mentioned a backrub again. I thought to myself, fuck it. No more games. I stood up. Took her hand and led her to her bedroom.

She said "Is this a good idea. We're about to get in trouble". I just said "I know". I laid her on her bed. She rolled over to her stomach. I lifted her shirt. Unsnapped her bra. I didn't waste time and immediately began to kiss her back. She responded. After a few minutes I wanted to move on. This is where it gets.. different. I put on a full court press. I didn't grab or grope. But I lay next to her. It took.. pursuading for her to roll to her back. We kissed. She would alternate between letting me kiss her neck to holding me off. So I backed off. Then she said "I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I need some time to clear my head and think this through".

Ok. I'm not going to push her into anything she doesn't want. But I hit a point where I was going to not live another minute wondering if only I had done this or that. So I pressed. And got shot down. I get it. That's where she is.

We moved back to the living room. She leaned against me on the couch. After a few minutes she fell asleep. We were like that for another hour or so. Napping on the couch. Me holding her. Finally I had to leave. Again, at the door she held me.

The next day she called. I left my watch at her house. We decided to get lunch so I could get it from her. It was going to be strictly platonic. If she wanted time to think then that's what I'm going to give her. I had a strong feeling "time to think" means time to put feelings aside. Which would probably mean just friends no more.

A thought started creeping in my head. Could she be hedging her bets. She's attracted but maybe there's a guy she's interested in, or maybe she hasn't given up on her last BF and hope's they will maybe reconcile. They will see each other at another match in a couple of weeks.

We had lunch. As we were leaving I laid it out for her. I'm ok being just friends. It will be tough but I get it. I'm ok with more, at least the thought of it. But I'm not ok with her playing games with me or holding me off until she's tried other things. IF she has someone she's interested in or maybe wants to see how the ex-BF reacts that's fine with me. Just TELL ME NOW and not surprise me. Just be open and honest and it will ALL be good. She went on for 15 minutes explaining why she and her ex were through and any other potentials and why they aren't really potential. None of which I cared about. I didn't want her to explain herself. Just to trust me enough to be honest with me. Then she said "I think if I had slept with you last night I would regret it today. I think we should be shooting buddies, friends, but that's it".

I was supremely disappointed. But it wasn't unexpected. I would have liked for her to really think about it instead of making a statement the next day. But it was what it was.

Sunday we chit chatted. I was looking at my schedule this week and realized I wouldn't have time to work out. I invited her to join me at the gym. Long story short (er) she ended up running errands that took too long so we didn't meet. However, we met for lunch. We ordered a few cocktails. She was knocking back vodka tonics. We were talking about shooting and other "normal" things. She has parts to a rifle, but no rifle. I offered to build it for her as long as she supplies the parts. She leaned over and said "If you build me a rifle, I will give you the BEST blow job you have ever had" then walked to the bathroom.

We've had this conversation before. She read me an excerpt from a book, written by women, that said "The promise of a blow job, is not the same as the delivery of a blow job". We've discussed this ad nauseum and it's kind of a running joke. When she got back I said "The promise of a rifle, is not the same as the delivery". She leaned in and said "A REAL promise".

Then she invited me to her house for more drinks.

I got to her house. Fixed us a couple of drinks. We sat on the sofa. She at one end. Me at the other. We talked. Drank. Talked drank. It was all "normal" stuff, not sexual at all. Then, suddenly, she reached over and tweaked the living shit out of my nipple. Drunk... reflex.. I shot my hand back and grabbed hers. Wrestling ensued. Ultimately, we ended up butting heads. I hit her on the nose. I felt horrible because we all know I can't stand the thought of hurting a woman. We went back to our separate corners. I took the opportunity to ask "so this rifle, you'll buy the parts?" because I don't want to shell out $700-1k. She said yes. I said "you're gonna need good kneepads". She stood up. Straddled me. Put her arms around my neck and said "I promise".

I picked her up, laid her on the floor. At this point I was between her legs. We kissed. She responded. I kissed her neck. Her legs pulled me closer. She moaned. She ran her hands through my hair. She buried her face in my neck. We kissed more. I slid down her body to her stomach and started kissing her stomach. I started to peel her yoga pants down kissing her belly as I went. Then she grabbed my face. Brakes. Again.

We stayed like that. Not really talking. Not doing much else. I noticed her legs shaking. I couldn't tell if she was now shaking because she was trying to squeeze me "away". I was still between them. I mentioned it. Then I said "I'm not going to do anything you don't want. You can relax" and moved off. Things were kind of blury after that. We both stepped to the bathroom. There was still a lot of sparks even though we weren't touching. She went to the kitchen to make another drink. I came up behind her and put my arms around her. Kissed her neck. She leaned back into me. My hands were on her stomach. I slid my fingers inside her waist band. She responded. I ran my hand lower. Into her panties (thong really).. low enough that I felt hair. Then she grabbed my hand. Brakes again.

She started making herself busy in the kitchen. Her friends were having a dinner and she needed to cook some things. We went back to "normal". After another hour or so I left. Again, we held each other. Kissed. Then out the door.

Last night, after dinner with her girlfriends, she called. We chatted for a bit. Then she said "I owe you an apology". I took certain actions I shouldn't have and I'm sorry. It was kind of hard for me to talk because I was at home. So I said me too. Then she asked "Were you prepared?" Huh? "In what way?" She said "You know". I wasn't really sure but I guess I was going to move as far as she would so I said "Yes". She said "Lamb or latex?" Oohh.. I get it. "Neither. I got the hypo-allergenic poly non-latex kind". She didn't really say much else.

We hung up. I started thinking, did she think I came over just to fuck her? I went to meet her for lunch. Period. I had no intention of going beyond that. Not until she straddled me. I texted her and said "I wasn't 'prepared' specifically for yesterday". She said "Whatever". Then she asked "what about tonight?" I said (truthfully) I got them back at the last match when we were out of town. I haven't thrown them out yet so... yes". No response.

I started thinking, she's pissed. She thinks I expressly came over there to fuck her. Which WAS true a week or so ago. But not after she made it clear that wasn't something she wanted.

This morning I called her. EARLY. Probably too early. But I didn't want to talk in the office. I said "First, let me sincerely apologize. I couldn't really talk last night. But there was a moment where I pushed things pretty hard". Then I asked "Are you pissed at me?". She was confused. I said "Well.. because the last thing we talked about was 'are you prepared' and I wanted to be clear I didn't expressly come over with anything in mind". She laughed and said "You think I meant THAT???" huh? "I meant gloves. Shooting gloves. Latex or sheepskin??"

Ok what the fuck. I tried to go back to the conversation to clarify and have some kind of closure. She just kept changing subjects.

Context recap:

So basically, over the last month, we went from merely acquaintances, to sexually charged friends, to almost fucking, to no we're just friends, to get drunk and push buttons, to almost fucking, to pretending nothing happened.

Where I stand:

Unfortunately, I have realized this isn't simple for me. Sure I've been with people I talked about on here from a purely sexual standpoint. Obviously I'm not there with her. It's more. I can't help it. I have pretty strong feelings.

When I'm at home, I'm miserable. I can't stand the thought of being there with Mrs. Not because there's anything wrong between us. It's just as I have said since day 1 of this blog. The spark just isn't there. I was miserable for the 2 years Sandy and I didn't talk. I CAN accept us just as friends... now.. after 2 years. But I have a really hard time when the signals are mixed. At the moment, I don't know what I want. Or rather, all things being equal, I want Sandy. BUT, I have a daughter. I have a wife. I have a wife who deserves more than this.

Where Sandy stands:

This is the mystery. I think, when we drink, I see into what she really wants. I think she wants more. But then, sober, the next day, she has serious regrets and conflict.

I almost wish we would just get it over with just so we can move on and either move forward, backward, or go away. It's this... thing hanging out there.

2nd place sucks

I'm sick of being the runner up. Sick of the consolation prize.

Sublimation

A scent, familiar, comforting, sensuous envelopes me. It teases me with the past and the future. I breath deep. For a moment, my heart beats. I wrap my arms around the dream of promise. A fleeting whisp. The coporeal grasp of ether.

Noooo... Not Ready. Too soon!!

I have noticed over the last couple of months C is developing rapidly. I mean RAPIDLY. Since she started her new school I pick her up from the bus stop down town 2 days a week. Yesterday, as she was getting off the bus I noticed she is SERIOUSLY getting teh bewbs. She's been wearing a training bra for some time now. The wearing of the bra corresponded with the first signs of growth in that area. I was blissfully on the sidelines for all of that. Yesterday was the first time I noticed they are getting pronounced. In fact, I even mentioned it to Mrs last night.

It should not have been a shock. Mrs walked in the shower and announced, "well, C started her period". Fuuuuuuuck. 10 is WAY too soon.

I guess I'd better start practicing 4 words. Pistol. Rifle. Shovel. Will.


Oh facepalm.

She's back

God help me.

I mentioned way back in May, after the incident, I talked to Sandy. We made peace. Since then we've been friendly, but kept a respectable distance. Until last week.

What I didn't mention in this post was, after being completely freaked by the bizarre circumstances in which, potentially, the implement of my manager's death ended up in MY hands, I went out looking for a stiff drink. Coincidentally, Sandy sent me an e-mail saying she was sad and needed a drink. I sent her one back saying let's meet.

And it's like we were never apart. Things have moved VERY fast. No we haven't slept together. But that night, we got hammered. And talked. REALLY talked. About why I had to step away. About her wants and needs. She broke it off with her BF. It seems pretty final.

I was out of town for a shooting event. She was in town as well. We hung out a lot. Tension is evident. She came to my hotel room for a drink. When she walked up she said "I'm not fucking you tonight". Uhhh.. ok. Wasn't what I was looking for. Hoping maybe but not looking. We had a few drinks. As she was leaving she said "I'm sorry I didn't fuck you tonight". I jokingly said "Tomorrow??" She replied "Depends... I have issues tonight". And left.

We spent most of Saturday night together. Went to dinner. Fell asleep on the couch. Then moved to the floor and fell asleep. I said "I need to get in a bed". She got up, sat on a chair. I took that as my sign it wasn't HER bed. So I left. We hugged.. a lot. Kissed. Sunday morning we were chatting. She said I was ready to go to bed but then you left. Damnit I guess I missed my moment.

No clue where this is going. No clue where I want it to go. I'm somewhat confused today for sure.

3 Words

Initially it was smack talk. I guess technically it still is. For whatever reason she feels the need to tell me everything about her sex life. Some details I'm just really not interested in hearing since it doesn't pertain to ME.

So finally I said, "As it pertains to sex, unless the conversation is prefaced with 3 words, I don't want to hear it". I had 3 specific words in mind. She has been pestering me ever since as to what they are. I suppose it's all in the interpretation.

Ok so what three words would you want to hear?

My short list (ok some of these you don't want to hear):

me now
Kiss my ass
It was negative
I you
Leave me alone
Where's the beef
Not with that O_o
Not right there 0_0
take a shower
take that off
Put this on
feed my cat
It's in writing
I was sleeping
...

A Sign?

I'm not superstitious. I don't read my horoscope daily or visit psychics. But sometimes events just seem too... coincidental and you have to ask yourself is this a sign?? Or maybe is it possible, if you look for ghosts you will find them (real or not).

I can't make this stuff up.

Yesterday my bug guy came to do his quarterly treatment. He's a private contractor. I've used him for years and recommended him to other friends. Good work. Fair price.

We chat while he's treating the house. Over the years we've kind of gotten to know each other a little bit. He know's I shoot. I guess anyone who comes and does work in my house can deduce that little bit of information from my office. I have ammo presses, jugs of gun powder, targets all over the wall.

He finished treating the house. As he was leaving he said "Hey, you know about guns. Think you could look at one and tell me what you think it would be worth?" We walked to his truck. He started to pull out the box. I said "Let's take it in the house so we're not waving it around out here". As we're walking to the house he told me "Yeah a friend of mine is trying to sell it. I told him I would take a look at it. He got it from a lady whose husband died and left her these guns. Then she died or wants to get rid of them and my buddy ended up with these and is trying to sell them".

He put the box on the table. As I moved around to get a look I notice the manufacturer's logo on the outside of the box. He opened it up and I was staring at a smitha and wess0n 645. The same make and model that killed my friend. At the same time the story he told me starts to sink in. Widow.. getting rid of gun... SnW 645.... FUUUUCCCCKKKK

I back pedaled across the room and asked "Where the fuck did you get that?". My poor friend was looking at me like "what the hell is happening?" He said "Just from a guy over in SuburbX". I said "No seriously, where did you get that?" He said "Just from a guy". So I told him, "you don't know all of this, but that particular make and model killed my boss. Please understand I'm a little wigged out". Then I asked "Was it Smith?... Smith family?" He said "No no.. it's not the same gun. Can't be. My guy is from SuburbX". I said "HE didn't get it from SuburbY?". He replied "No way. Not the same gun".

I was still shaking at this point. Ok maybe it's not the same gun. I walked over, picked it up, the whole time thinking to myself "there's no way I could be holding THAT gun right??" I noticed the hammer was back, safety down. If you're not familiar with these things, for whatever reason SnW had a series of guns that didn't work the same way most do. Their safeties work backwards. All of the guns I own have safeties that you push down to fire, up to put on safe. These models of SnW are the opposite. They also have a "decocker" which is supposed to safely drop the hammer when there is a round in the chamber.

My personal theory of what happened that day is, that little design feature contributed to my friend's accident. I think he was confused as to how to operate it and had his finger in the trigger then.. bang. I was acutely aware of this while handling the gun. Checked the chamber. Again. Again. Again. Empty. No magazine. Check again. Pull the trigger to drop the hammer and it won't drop. Mess around with the safety some more. Get it figured out. Drop the trigger. The whole time my hand, at least to me, was shaking noticeably. I mean, here I was fumbling with a gun and realizing I could be going through the exact same motions as my friend right before he shot himself.

I made sure the gun was clear, hammer down, and put it back in the box. I had no idea how much the gun was worth. I threw out a number I though it could go for. We walked back outside to his truck. On the way I took a minute to tell him the whole story. How I had been at the range all week from sunup to sun down. That day I actually left at a reasonable hour and missed him. The next day *I* found him on the range. You're telling me now a guy died and left that gun to his wife and it's the same make and model....

He understood why I was shaken. We chit chatted a little more and he left. My heart was still racing. I couldn't sit still. Mrs and C were doing after school stuff and wouldn't be home for a few more hours. I drove to a bar.

While retelling the story to the bug guy something started tickling in the back of my brain. These are movie kind of coincidences. Or maybe I'm just looking for connections and am finding them. I sign my friend and boss up for the gun club. Our schedules never sync up to be able to shoot together. He never has time to shoot at all. Then the one day he has time to shoot, is during a week when I'm at the range 12+ hours a day. The ONLY time in the 5 years I've been shooting I have been at the range for that amount of time. EXCEPT the day he comes out. THAT's the one day I finish up at 5pm on the nose. He didn't get to the range until around 6. Then *I* find him on the range. THEN, months later, the same make and model gun shows up at MY house and it came from a guy trying to sell of some guns a widow got from her husband.

I seriously have to ask myself what is going on? This is like something you would see in some cheesy M. Knight Shamalaama-however you spell his name movie. Maybe I watch too many movies. But is something or someone somewhere trying to tell me something?? Or could I be going nuts here? Is this how it starts?

The more things change

or not in my case.

I keep thinking the old Pluff may be peeking back out. I have a conversation with a hawt sexy woman. I lay back. Nothing more than friends. The conversations turn to sex (and believe it or not I am never the one to bring it up). Then the shit talking starts. It progresses to the point where I'm getting a feel for the situation when it happens. Brakes.

No I never make any overt moves etc. But it becomes obvious there will never be so much as flirting. Then my theory about FWB being an urban legend is reaffirmed. No such thing. Never happen. Even if you showed me pictures I wouldn't believe it at this point.

For example,

I've mentioned Red. She's hot. 35. Single. Red head. We chat on a geek chat room we run here at work. Tiny bit flirty. Never anything overtly sexual in nature in our conversations. A month or so ago I asked the whole chat room who was interested in a particular restaurant for lunch. She was the only one. So we met. We chit chatted. Talked about the usual stuff.

I met her via a coworker. They used to date. I first met her at a holiday party with all of my work people 2 or 3 years ago. At our lunch, she lamented losing most of our "work crowd" when she broke up my co-worker. For a little more back story, the co-worker dumped Red for another, married co-worker. She said "Yeah I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me when Ex quit fucking me. I mean, I'm 35, in my sexual prime and I just want to be fucked by my boyfriend".

Up to this point, I was being a good boy. No sex talk AT ALL. Not even any "that's what she said" jokes. At one point, in the chat channel, she said "I'll even let you sit on my lap". Normally the pluffster would've chimed in with something like "If I'm near your lap I won't be sitting on it" kind of quip. But I let it drop. Sexual harassment.. public chat channel.. Seemed prudent.

So when she.. SHE brought up sex.. and not just sex, FUCKING, I was, at first, taken a little aback. It's not often you hang out with people, especially women, you know who start talking about getting fucked. Even around guys who talk about sex all the time, they never use the term "fuck", and certainly never in a passive mode. It's always something like "yeah the wife got it good for my birthday". Never "I fucked her long and hard". But in this case, the word "fuck" and passive together as in "fucking ME". Not "fucking HIM". So in context of semi-work, this was a shock to my system to have someone not only break out "fuck" in sexual context, but in a passive aggressive context dripping with wanton overtones.

Cut to a couple of weeks later. Red, chimed in on chat that she has exciting news and wanted people to go with her to lunch. Again, I was the only one who could make it. Other's were interested but meetings, obligations etc. got in the way.

Turn out she got a new apartment. She wanted us(me) to see it. Turns out it wasn't just a quick trip to the new place. She was meeting the landlord to sign the papers. There was a humorous moment when I was roaming around the place while the realtor went through the schpiel. She (realtor) asked "How many keys?" and looked at ME. I was introduced as a friend. Obviously a male friend wearing a wedding ring. Not sure if Red made the awkward connection. I sometimes think she doesn't view social interactions the same way most people do. I quickly shook my head and said "NOO!! Just a co-worker". Not sure the realtor believed it.

The conversation was pretty benign the entire time. She mentioned only needing a few hours to move. I asked how she was getting her furniture over fully expecting a request to use my truck. She said "I only have a couple of chairs and a bed". Teasing, I said "Well where am I supposed to sit?? I need a couch to sprawl out on!" She replied with "I DENY couches.. too much like commitments". I shot back "Well, where will we all sit for the housewarming party". She said "NO PARTIES!! No one comes to my place. I'm an introvert that way". I continued teasing her about the whole work crowd showing up as aversion therapy for her OCD introversion. I said "when we show up it's either a couch or your bed" knowing that would wig out OCD types. She said "The bed would be much more fun". This was as risque as the conversation got.

So to summarize up to this point. I, while not discouraging any kind of sexual content in conversations, did not initiate or encourage as the old pluffster would in the past. But in my mind there is a ticker running and the number of times SHE brought up sex tickled the old pluffster to consider possibilities.

Yesterday, we started a private chat discussing a presentation she saw. I thought I may know the author (the guy from the Company from Hell if you care to scan the archives). The conversation went from the presentation, to an inquiry about shooting, to spending money on hobbies, to my motorcycle (as in I can't keep it maintained for $$ on shooting), to motorcycle boys, to her motorcycle gang fuck buddy to her sexual habbits.

Again, SHE brought up the fuck buddy. She brought up her lament at not fucking him when she had the chance. SHE said "I am in my sexual prime and need to be fucked" (again passive). I was still not making any overt moves. The old pluffster would've said something like "You rang??" I was starting to get a good enough vibe to think about turning the heat up. At this point the conversation turned to ex's. I mentioned my Ex-wife and all the guys she fucked while we were married. She said "I've never cheated on anyone EVER" (her emphasis). My little warning system started to beep. I took a partial truth approach and said "I never cheated on the wife". We were talking about my ex at the time so I kind of, at least in my mind, was implying the EX wife with the word "the". I added "I will admit I have with others". Again, a real stretch of the truth. She said "I like your wife. You'd better NOT EVER cheat on her".

And there it was. The door slam on my cock. Just when I thought she was maybe leading up to something, BAM.. SLAM done.

So tuck away the pluffster. Just old me here. No mischief on the horizon. The FWB monster still an urban legend.. The most evidence I have is of a grainy shadowy creature on the edge of the woods swinging ape like arms.

That is all...

It Finally Happened...

Mrs took C to a "fall festival" Friday night. I stayed home preparing to shoot a match Saturday morning. The festival was typical, bobbing for apples, haunted house, haunted hay ride. Needless to say, Mrs and C didn't get home until around 11pm.

While they were gone I did my usual due diligence for a match. Made ammo. Checked equipment. Dry fired. Once finished I wandered aimlessly around the house bored. Eventually, I ended up in the bedroom flipping through the cable guide incessantly. Long story but we had to replace our dvr. All of our recordings were gone. My iPad found it's way into my hands (however could that happen??). Ultimately, I ended up on a couple of favorite porn sites (as if there were any doubt).

Let me rant for just a second. I know it's in poor taste to speak ill of the dead. Especially one so influential and beloved as the recently passed head of said company inventing the device on which I was perusing the porn. But damn man... the device is almost perfect EXCEPT for your hatred of all things flash. It's like taxes and well.. you know the other that goes with taxes.. it's a fact of online life. Accept it (wow the more I read this in context the less taste it has). The lack of flash support SERIOUSLY hinders my on-line porn experience (aaand we're off that cliff of tact forever).

So back to the story. I was perusing the ONLY sites supporting non-flash video. I guess I'm older, or desensitized, but it takes a certain type of porn to get me aroused any more. No I'm not talking about goats or dudes in really fake alien costumes with absurd silicone 15" schlongs.. and let's face it.. for those the color isn't even realistic.. I mean.. you can obviously see the straps and the green??? and what's up with those crazy bumps.. ahem.. No I just mean they have to have a certain level of... authenticity. The dude with the 12" cock and tribal armband tats pounding the platinum blonde with perfectly sculpted tits while she screams.. or maybe just says without enthusiasm "fuck my pussy you stud i want your cock pound me hard blah blah" just doesn't do it for me. Give me the college students filming themselves in their dorm. The housewife sneaking away with her lover. Amateurs. Real emotions. Real reactions. I love it when a beautiful woman completely loses all composure, body convulses, face squeezed tightly, holding her breath, losing all cool for that explosion of orgasmic pleasure. THAT gets me rock hard.

I went through several videos before finally getting to a couple that did it for me. And as timing would have it, Mrs and C got home right about then. Mrs sent C for a shower before the front door even closed.

The last year or so, C has been taking showers in our bathroom. It was a futile attempt to get her to bathe quickly. She used to hate showers. Our thought process was something along the lines of, she hates showers, she will therefore get in and out. Yeah not so much. Now she loves our shower because it's all glass. She likes to "draw" in the condensation on the door.

So there I was under the covers, with a raging boner, in MY room, when C comes marching through and off to MY bathroom. Mrs came walking over to give me a kiss. One of the two brains chimed in "C will be in the shower for at least 20 minutes... it's a shame to waste this boner..." Mrs bent down to kiss me, I slid my hand along her leg, between her thighs to her pussy. I didn't really go for foreplay.. I was thinking we only had about 15-20 minutes. I quickly unsnapped her jeans and slid my hand down her pants.

Her skin was cold. She still had that cool to the touch feeling you get from being outside in colder temperatures. She quickly peeled her clothes off and climbed in the bed. I slide my hand to her pussy. She was soaked.

We realized at this moment, we had not heard the shower running. Mrs called out to C "I don't hear that shower. What are you doing?". C replied "I'm going to the bathroom!". Ok great, we have even more time. Mrs pulled me on top, my cock sliding home. We went slow. Sometimes it's better to just enjoy the build up moreso than the porn pounding.

Mrs was about to reach her first orgasm when the door to the bathroom flung open. Fortunately, we were under the covers. But there I was, on top of Mommy. We both shouted "What?!?!!" She said "My toenail fell off".

Good parents would immediately think, "WHAT?!?! Toenail fell off.. what kind of horrible disease has she contracted to cause her toenails to suddenly, without warning fall off???" But noooo... THIS parent said "Go get a shower and we'll look at it later".

She closed the door and started the water in the shower. Of course I finished.

I'm not sure what the whole toenail thing was about. Mrs went in after C got out and I heard "Oh.. that's ok". I guess she just chipped it or something. Not the WHOLE toenail. Some concerned parent I am.... I'm also not sure what she thought. I mean, at my age if I walked in on someone on top of someone else, even with the covers on, I'm pretty sure I would know what was happening. Mrs has been reading her books. I know the kids at school have been talking about "sexing". It could've been worse. She could've been on all fours while I pounded her with her screaming "that's it fuck my pussy hard i love your big cock give it to me"..

Nice Day for a White Wedding

The fam went to a wedding this weekend. Boy have things changed. When Mrs and I got married, we were pretty non-traditional. Or at least in some ways. Mrs belongs to a very strict, very old, catholic-esque type of church. Like catholics, they do not recognize divorce or marriages not performed in their church. For a variety of reasons including the pastor being a complete jackass to my angst with organized religions and particularly one acting as a pseudo government as well as my status as a divorcee, we chose to do a civil ceremony.

So I'm not one to cast a lot of stones on non-traditional weddings. But, I'd like to think we were tasteful if nothing else. Mrs wore a white wedding gown. We played very traditional music, recorded, but traditional. Our ceremony was at a historic plantation. A notary and friend of the family performed the ceremony. Short, sweet, to the point, and legal as far as I'm concerned.

This wedding was similar in many ways. But it was an interesting mesh of families. The brides side is very middle class. I grew up with the Mother of the bride and most of those kids. We all spent Christmas afternoons together at my Grandmother's house. The grooms side was.. well.. interesting. The mother and father were clearly out of place in coat and tie. The brides side of the aisle overflowed. The grooms side had maybe 15 people not counting the wedding party itself. The brother of the groom was not in the wedding. He started off in a white shirt, tie, and jeans. Then as the night wore on the tie came off. The shirt was replaced with a t-shirt. The pants went from waist level to buttock level. A white hat, backwards appeared. Followed by shades on the hat and a gold chain. At one point I went to the bathroom, he was in there. He started talking (why do guys feel the need to share while pissing??). "Here for mah lil bro's weddin... man I had to get out cause I'm divorcin after 12 yrs". Cause it's all about you.

The wedding started with the traditional procession. A DJ played typical classical pieces. Water Music. Etc. Then the wedding march for the bride. The ceremony itself was short and sweet. To the point. Then as the pastor pronounced man and wife, the DJ played Nickleback... yup.. Nickleback. I thought, that's an odd choice of celebratory song.. eh what do I know.

Then we waited around forever while the photographer did his thing. Eventually we were led into a dining room. They had a sit down dinner planned. The food was great. The DJ played typical jazz type dinner music. Eventually, it was time for the couple's first dance. And again, the song? Nickleback.

Somebody luvs them some Nickleback. I'm guessing the groom. "You know what be tite??? if we wuz to dance to Nickleback... yeah.. my homie's be all like THATS SOME TITE SHIT YO!!"

Maybe it's the smart ass cynic in me but I'm wondering if their relationship will follow the groom's Nickle-luv. At some point will it hit him, "Hey... you can play the songs from each album over top of each other and they are all the same... fuck I spent $300 on Nickleback albums and I only really needed to buy 1.. I mean you own one and you really own them all... daaaammnn.. I don't think I luv them anymore.. and to think I played them at our wedding.. hey...." I definitely detected a look of "what the hell did I just do" from the groom for about 10 seconds after the pastor pronounced them man and wife. As they walked from the ceremony he caught himself and put on a big smile. I wonder if that was the moment "hey.. is this the song I picked??? Wait.. yes.. maybe... shit it's so hard to tell them apart.. fuck it smile and walk".

Once dinner was over the DJ cranked it up and the dancing started. My highlight was watching my 80+ yr old great great(?) Aunt (my Grandmother's sister and grandmother to the bride) do the electric slide. Woman was cuttin a damned rug. Then my Mom went ass over a speaker stand and landed flat on her back. Nothing says a party til the elders start falling out.

I don't really know how long the reception lasted. My Grandfather started nodding off on the table around 9pm. We all rode together so we all had to leave together.

Yesterday morning was a mini-family reunion at the hotel. We pretty much took over the breakfast area pulling together 4 or 5 tables. It turned into a kind of preview of what's to come for Thanksgiving. Should be a hoot.

A little too close to home

I actually have/had interesting things to talk about. More interesting than this. But those thoughts were derailed.

First, I woke up at 3:30am this morning. Now that I'm 40something it happens frequently. The old middle age bladder thing. Most nights I go back to bed without issue. However last night my over-active brain (I'm rarely accused of having one but it does happen) clicked on and I lay awake until my alarm went off at 5:30.

My brain went from normal every day bullshit, to shooting, to matches, to setting up for matches, to setting up for THE match, to THE incident. My heart started racing as I relived walking over to my friend seeing his lifeless eyes. Except, now I have time to imagine what went wrong and what must've gone through his mind in the split second that something, whatever it was, went horribly wrong.

Honestly, this happens frequently. Pretty much every time I go to the range or think about setting up for a match. The two are forever intertwined. Maybe one day I won't visualize that morning when I shoot. But it happens. I try not to let it get to me.

But then a very good, well meaning friend, sent out a video today. It is one of those darwinian viral videos of some dumbass doing his best to self correct the gene pool. Except this one was of a guy shooting bottles with a shotgun. The gun goes click on the last shot. The dumbass stares at the shotgun for a second, puts the butt on the ground and looks down the barrel.

I started shaking. I shut my eyes, looked away and tried to knock off my headphones. The blast came a split second later. I had to look at the screen to close the window. The guy was still alive, holding his face. I'm assuming he pulled away in time to only get powder burns.

I'm pretty rattled by it. For one thing, I'm startled as to how violently I reacted to the video. It has been a long time since thinking about THE day has caused my heart to race. Two time in one day though... I don't know what to say to my friend. I'm sure he never even considered how it might affect me. Hell, I didn't realize how it would until it did.

Manager's replacement sent out an email a week or so ago. He wants to meet with everyone just to say hi and I'm sure establish himself as a manager instead of a peer. Please don't be today. I'm not sure, at least this morning, I would be ok sitting in his office.

Fuck I'm a pussy.

Not a kid anymore

Oh how I hate it when my body lets me down. We took C to Orlando and the major parks there for her birthday. About 1/2 way through Mrs and I started discussing which kid we could bring along next time to ride the rides with C. I mean, I'm in damned good shape. I have earned the title of "hard core" for our work outs. I out pace most people in the class including the 20 somethings. Last Thursday we were doing pushups, crunches, squat hops etc. in series of 75 reps. And I was smoking people. However, I now have, apparently, the inner ear of an 80 yr old woman.

Most of the roller coasters were ok. I felt a tiny bit queasy for about 15 minutes after each. But nothing too drastic. Then we rode the new H@rry P0tt3r ride. If you aren't familiar with this thing, holy shit! It combines a roller coaster, simulator, diorama/haunted mansion type thing into this stomach churning, nausea inducing torture. You sit in a roller coaster like seat. The kind where your feet dangle. The ride whooshes you into an animatronic room. No problems at this point. Then you lurch up, around, and into a room where you are "flying simulated" around the qu1dditch field on a broom. Instant.. nausea. I mean, like about to throw up nausea. It only gets worse from there. You lurch back and forth between physical and virtual rooms. At one point, the whomping tree is trying to kill you and the "cart" is ducking, flipping, rotating upside down. At one point I was hanging by my shoulders in the harness. Finally, the ride was over and not a moment too soon. I spent the next hour seated on a bench trying my best not to throw up. That thing fucking wiped me out.

Unfortunately, that cgi/simulated/hybrid ride is the way of the future. And for all of the bad ass in me, those things take me down in a heart beat. My little girl is an adrenaline junkie too. So far, I think the Hu1k ride is the most extreme thing we've done. I'm sure there are more extreme, but that one is up there. She rode it and wanted to do it again. But the park was closing so we didn't get a chance for a 2nd ride.

The highlight of the trip was at the wand shop. There's a whole "choosing" thing like in the movie. The guy picks one kid to do the choosing with. He walked up to C and picked her. Pretty cool thing on her birth day. Of course, the wand picked her. Then a guy named "Rob" picked ME to pay $30 for it.

Since we've been back, the new school has consumed almost every waking moment. The commute from our house, to school, to work is 33 miles. We planned all of her extra-curriculars around her old school. It's quite a juggling act. And one we haven't mastered yet. The apparent solution is for us to get up EVEN earlier to get her to a bus. Mrs and I have each gone through a tank of gas getting her around. The bus, while earlier, seems to be the best combination of convenience and $$ savings.

C was terrified on her first day. She didn't hesitate to tell any of the grandparents either. Mrs dropped her off with her teacher. She wasn't lying about being scared. There were tears and clinging. But she soldiered through it and managed to ace her first test (cold since the other kids knew it was coming and of course she didn't).

I feel like I'm getting a 2nd education though. Her homework is harder and there is plenty of it. I helped her for hours last night and had to get on google for a good bit of it. I should take the tests myself. Maybe I would do better this time around. Then again, C could kick my ass. I can't have that :)

Elsewhere, since I talked about Red a couple of posts ago, she has dropped off the planet. Maybe she reads this. Eh well. Still good wanking material. If she does read this would that make her a sort of self voyeur? Reading me fantasizing about her and whacking off?? Hmmm...

Arrogant?? Damned right we are

There's a fine line between arrogance and pride. Allow me to smash that line for a minute.

"You're child must have an 85 average" she said over the phone. I pictured the words coming from under an upturned nose, thin and pointy with bejeweled reading glasses perched precariously one the tip. "She must also score above the 75th percentile on [insert standardized test here]", her voice dripping with cynicism. "We will, of course, need her report card, test scores, and transcript" she added.

Oh.. let me find the report card.. wait.. her grades may be too close.. oh.. what's this?? 99 average??? BAM!

Standardized scores.. hmmm... let me see... 99th percentile!! DOUBLE BAM!

Allow me to add, top of summer reading program by 30.. I say again 3 - 0 percent... BAM... Reads at 8th grade level... BAM.. and... she plays violin for the FUCKING WIN.

You may now bow down and kiss her ass snooty principle woman. Proud?? You're goddamned right!

Argh it's hard being a parent sometimes...

I have so many mixed emotions. I'm excited and sad all at the same time. Hopeful and worried.

I'm sure our school system here is like many. Mostly crap. Some diamonds. The "best" schools are in districts we can't possibly afford to live. We have a "magnet" system. The idea is some of the better schools allow a portion of students to attend "out of district". For people who live in less desireable districts, the game is to work the magnet system to try to upgrade your kid's school. The game goes for each level. The first round was to get her into a good elementary school.

The next round is for middle school so on and so on. We are coming up on the next level. The best school we can shoot for at this moment is a predominantly arts oriented school. Kids have to 1) win a lottery) and 2) audition. We have enrolled C in violin to prepare for this round.

We've been playing the game ever since C was a tiny baby. Waiting lists. Testing. Lotteries. The magnet system is a serious crap shoot. I have a real problem with a child's future being as random as drawing their name from a hat. However, it's the game and play it we must. We took a shotgun approach and applied to any public magnet school we could. We lucked out with her current school in that 1) she won a slot via a lottery and 2) she tested well. While her school is awesome and scores well in standardized testing, it was our 2nd choice. Only a portion of the student body are "magnet". The first choice was a magnet only school. However, we did not win that lottery. We did, however, get on a waiting list.

Last night we got the call. Her number is up. She has an opportunity to attend our first choice. It is an incredible school. They are 2nd in the State in test scores. The student body is small and magnet only. Meaning all kids had to test to get in (not just a portion). In fact, it was the focus of an ABC News story about parents who are willing to cheat and defraud to get their kids in.

Aside from this school being one of, if not the best academically, it goes all the way through 8th grade. This means we can skip a level of magnet system games. No auditions. No lottery. Further, the last step in the magnet game (high school), was the number 1 high school in the nation in 2009. This school has something like 80-90% acceptance to that particular High School.

In other words, we really did win the lottery.

The education she will receive trumps all down sides. But there are a few. First, it's in a whole different town. They are rebuilding their down town campus and are using an old High School a town over in the mean time. So we will have 2 years of driving from one side of the county to another. We're not sure about after school programs. Right now she basically stays until 5ish. IF they don't have a program we'll have to drive all the way over to pick her up by 3pm, then come back to work.

The worst down side is she already has 3 weeks of school under her belt. This year she has a lot of friends in her class. We talked to her a little bit about making a move this morning. She was pretty upset about it. I think this will be the hardest part for her. And it breaks my heart. I know this is the best thing. It's an opportunity not many get. She will be set as far as school goes at least through 8th grade. There is also a solid chance she will be set to go into the best high school in the entire US. At her age she doesn't really understand all of that. She just knows we're thinking about yanking her out of a school she adores.

Rrrrr...

Mom?? Is that you??

I've been playing more and more on the twitters. There are many lovely ladies out there baring their souls and bodies. Oh my what bodies.

I kind of touched on the dangers of anonymity and meeting IRL. I was perusing some tumblrs and pics one day admiring the lovelies and their willingness to share when a though entered my brain. What if I know them IRL?? I'm pretty sure none of the people I follow are from around here. But wouldn't that be an awkward RL moment. You decide to get together. Meet at a hotel room. Knock on the door and... MOM???? LOL!!

And for the record NONE of the loverlies could possibly be my Mom. While I haven't seen my Mom naked I'm sure she was supremely gravity challenged now and well.. all of the loverlies are decidedly NOT.

In other news,

I suppose I should give the redhead in the last post a name. We went to lunch again. Maybe it's because I've been out of the mischief hunt for so long, but she get's hotter and hotter each time I see her.

We were talking about her ex. She said "I knew he was cheating on me when he stopped fucking me". Not a totally shocking conversation piece in the context of this blog. But considering we were out on a friendly lunch it seemed pretty damned forward and personal. She added "I mean, I'm not a teenager. When I'm going out with someone I expect to be fucked on a regular basis".

Later, she pinged me on chat. She asked "What kind of ass do you think I have?" Evidently she was looking at a web site selling jeans. It asked for a "type" to, presumably, match you to an appropriate style. The choices were "flat, average, prominant, wide/full". Seems kind of a limited selection. My response was "I need more data" followed by "of the choices I guess I would say average, but I would not use the word average as it pertains to your ass".

Personally, I think she has a pretty damned nice ass. In terms of data, I'm thinking I would need to see her bent over while sliding in from behind to have a fair assessment.

The weekend was full yet relatively uneventful (read boring). Set up our regular match and shot it on Saturday. I won my division. Yawn.

C's birthday present arrived Friday. We set it up and tested Saturday night after she went to bed. First, it was defective (karaoke machine). The screen randomly cut out while playing the words of the song. Second, I had a wire tie in my mouth while I was tab A to slot B'ing. When I took it out of my mouth I thought a piece of it stuck to a tooth. Nope. The tooth chipped. Nothing painful. Just a tiny piece out of it. But this is yet another expense in a long line of things breaking this summer.

My last thought of the day (brace yourself for it's profound importance), I'm sad to see another blogger in my blog roll closing up shop. Just when I venture back into the world o' blog they all start to run away... HEY... wait a minute! Hmph.

I'll miss lurking to Chapter Two. Best of luck to you.

Well Hellooo there

Hmmm... do I detect a bit of mischief on the horizon? There is a certain fiesty redhead who is getting chummy. I'm picking up vibes. Could be? Maybe?

I met her a couple of years ago. She was dating a friend. They have since broken up. We are friends on FB and now Google+. We also participate in a geek chat channel local to our institution. Most of the time the conversation involves the best type of tape to repair our horned rims. But every once in a while it gets more personal.

She has mentioned in the past she segregates her contacts on FB and Google+ into "vanilla" and "non-vanilla". I've noticed her posts have taken on a distinctive edge of sexuality as well as an anything goes attitude. Maybe I've been moved from the "vanilla" group. I have to say I'm completely intrigued.

We've had a running dialog about how we need to open a beer and doughnut shop around here. We've even gone so far as to discuss the types of beer and doughnuts we would have. I.e. a nice dark Guiness with a Chocolate and Bacon doughnut etc. etc.

Last week she posted in the chat room how she was having an awful day and needed a hug. Of course every one chimed in with hug tags. The next day I made my weekly reward trip to Starbucks (If I worked out every day and maintained weight). They have these awesome cake doughnuts. So I picked up 2. When she popped up on the chat room I opened a private chat and asked which building she worked in. When she replied, I said "meet me out front in 5 min".

While walking to her building she posted on her wall "An adventure is happening right now". I walked up, handed her the Starbucks bag and said "Have a better day today". I'm sure a doughnut was a disappointing conclusion to an adventure. But "adventure" is the word she used. What was she thinking before?

Eh if nothing else this should be good fodder for my overactive imagination. Maybe some good dream and wanking material.

And in the blink of an eye

I knew it was coming. I was surprised by my reaction. We filled Manager's position. The announcement came 5 minutes ago.

I'm completely happy with the new Manager. I've known him for years. He has worked his way up through the ranks and has always been a solid guy.

It has been some time since I have had strong emotions. Sure an e-mail here or there caused me to stop for a moment. For the most part I've been ok.

But for a second, hell even now, I'm feeling pretty emotional about it. In many ways this is the last step to letting go. The empty chair was in many ways comforting. That we/me are holding on to the last bit of Manager.

His boss moved forward with replacing him with almost ruthless efficiency. Many people have remarked about his emotionless, cold, business like demeanor within hours of hearing of his death. That aside, this is a necessary step. It isn't at all unexpected. What is unexpected, is my reaction. For the first time in at least a couple of months, I'm tearing up.

Where is Tattoo when you need him?

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When did I become the adult??

Had a meh kinda weekend. It was un-fucking-believably hot. I set up for our monthly match Friday afternoon. We had a couple of rain sprinkles but the humidity was oppressive. Then I shot the match saturday. What a clusterfuck that turned out to be. First, it was hot (have I already said it was hot??). The sun was like standing in an oven. Intense waves of heat.

Then, I forgot my gun. That set the tone for the whole day. Fortunately, my buddy lent me one of his. My stress was already starting to rise.

We shot the first stage. I wasn't used to the gun at all. I pushed a little too hard and took a miss on a target. The next stage wasn't much better. Again, I pushed too hard and yanked a shot into a penalty target. Finally started getting my shit together for the next stage. I ran it in a smoking time and clean.

Then we got to the 4th. We have a handicapping system. There are a set of standardized stages. They have to be set up the same way every time and measured precisely. This particular stage has bitten me in the past. I actually practiced quite a lot all week for this. Things were going well until we had to do a piece strong hand only. Drew the gun, was coming up on target, prepped the trigger and BANG! before I was ready.

This is what we call an accidental discharge. Typically, someone has their finger in the trigger at an inappropriate moment and they touch one off no where near a target. For example, another person had an AD saturday while he was unloading his gun. He had his finger in the trigger and shot the ground about 10 feet in front of him. Obviously an accident and an obvious safety violation.

I was prepping the trigger. So I know I was close to the target. But for the life of me I couldn't tell you where the shot went. Everyone told me it was only a few feet off target. If it were anyone else, I don't know that I would've called it an AD. But *I* know it was an AD. *I'M* in charge of this match. So I can't in good conscious let it go even if no one else noticed that it scared the shit out of me when it went bang. I stopped myself and issued myself a Disqualification.

However, my day wasn't done. I still had to run the rest of the match and tear it all down. Of course, as I was leaving, the clouds started to roll in and the temperature dropped. Not 5 minutes after pulling out of the range it started pouring. I'm not sure how I would've felt about rain at the match had the timing been different. I mean, no sun and it was cool. But it was pouring... hmmm.. tough one.

Yesterday I decided to tackle some yardwork I had been putting off. I was hoping this heat wave would break and I could do it in more comfortable temperatures. But I had some shrubs that were just about to get completely out of control. It was another 100+ day. I ended up working in 15 minute spurts. Trim a couple of boxwoods. Go inside. Trim 1/2 of the holly bushes. Go inside. Etc. etc.

During one of the breaks my Sister called. Quick background, I have 1 "full" sister 8 years younger than me. Then my Dad remarried and had a kid so I have a 1/2 brother about 17 years younger. My Mom remarried a couple of years later and had a kid as well, 1/2 sister. I don't really call them "1/2s". I'm much closer to my youngest sister only because my Mom has lived within visiting distance. My Dad lives in South Florida and we just don't see each other nearly as often as I see my Mom.

Evidently, my sister (closest to me in age) was talking to the baby Sis. She said my Mom and Step-father have been really having some knock down arguments lately. My Mom was a cougar before "cougar" was sheik. My Step-father is only 7 years older than me. My Mom is about 12 years older than he is. She is in her early 60's whereas he just turned 50. This is important because, evidently, he is becoming much more aggressive when they argue.

My Mom and Step-father have been married for 23 years. I was 20 when they got married, so they have been together for 1/2 my life. In all that time, my SD always struck me as a big kid. In many ways very immature. He is very smart from an intellectual perspective. But he just always seems to be this really big kid at heart. In many ways annoyingly so.

For as long as I can remember, my Mom has been bi-polar. It took me until I was in my 30s to finally recognize that's what it was. Until then I just knew she had a hair trigger. When she married SD, he sort of became the target of the rage side of her personality. In many ways, he was another one of the kids. Where I always used to have to tip-toe around my Mom not knowing what would set her off, once they married, it seemed like it was SD who was always setting her off.

On one hand I think it's finally about time he grew up, manned up, and held his own. He may be immature and annoying, but he deserves respect as any husband should. On the other, she's my Mom and no matter what, she's family and he's simply not. My youngest sis told the other she is worried about my Mom's safety. That she is afraid it will get physical.

I'm not sure what I should do about it. He's big. Like 6'4 250. He works out but I think it's more for show than an actual workout. My Mom is 5'2 at best and 62 years old. I hate to start thinking of my parents as "elderly", but she's starting to get into the frail years where he isn't.

For the most part, I should let them work it out. I mean, it's their life. Maybe they aren't meant for each other. Maybe he is ready for a younger less bi-polar, more geeky and kid-like model. It sucks but it happens. But hit my Mom...

If I say anything to him, would I add fuel to any fire? I know a lot of guys (not intelligent) who would take that as a challenge to their domestic sovereignty and do something out of spite. I don't see him as the type. But I know he has to be feeling pressure. My memories when I was a kid were of constant fear. Is he ready to snap? Could he finally have all he could take and me telling him if he lays a hand on my Mom... well... could that conversation cause the snap?

My sister (oldest) isn't exactly the model of stability. I talked about her relationship with her husband a couple of years ago. They had their own little incident where I thought we might actually come to blows and possibly have an actual self-defense gun incident. Do I take her side of the story at face value? All parties involved now were present that night and fully aware of how fragile the situation was. Is she relaying this information expecting me to be the adult again and step in?