S.O.S.

I have a happy life. Honestly, it's everything I ever wanted and ever dreamed of.

But.....

Why do I feel so......lonely?

It's so STUPID! I've got beautiful babies crawling in opposite directions, making me laugh hysterically all day long. I've got two snuggly cats, two very sweet dogs and a very good man that I'm married to. Why do I feel so ALONE?

Maybe I am just missing my job and seeing the Coug every day....? Plus, remember my former trainer/gf The Wee General? Well, TWG and her hub are divorced now, so she's never around anymore (she has a married Scandinavian bf - a story for another day).

I know part of my feeling all discombobulated is I never have time to write naughty stories or email friends anymore.

The bottom line is, I am a very social creature stuck inside a baby bubble.

Here's where I really confuse myself.

I love the baby bubble.

I just can't quite figure out how to get some balance in my life.

I feel like I am losing some of myself, and when that feeling pops in to my mind, I feel so GUILTY! I would die for my babies, but I want to be the social, creative, sexual maniac I used to be TOO.

Is it wrong to want it all? And if you answer that with a "no", how the heck do you get it?

Tipsy bloggin'

I'm cold. I need a blankie. Or a warm body to snuggle on. Mmmmhmmmm......a warm body... What is it about drinking wine that makes me crave the feel of skin on skin....? The Other Half calls it "Blondage Viagra". Heh. Clever boy.

* * * *

Speaking of craving... A little birdy told me that someone I think is totally hot has a mad crush on me. Mmmmmmm... I heart tall.

* * * *

Haven't mentioned this lately, but the gorgeous next-door neighbors have launched a full frontal assault upon me. It's gone from subtle-come-hithering to near cave-man-bonk-me-on-the-head-and-drag-me-off-by-the-hair-esque. I think I should change their nicknames here from The Wee General and the Marquis de Sade to "Bait (TWG) and Switch (MdS, 'cause I seriously think he is a switch in BDSM terms)". I crack myself up.

* * * *

We watched the Simpsons movie tonight. If hub doesn't stop singing "Spider Pig", I may have to bonk HIM on the head. :)

* * * *

.....conversation from last week...

Blondage's hot girlfriend: *laughing* I am such a slut!

Blondage: No, you are NOT a slut. You're 'sexually liberated'.

Blondage's hot girlfriend: Yeah, liberated in my ASS!

wheeeeeeeeeeee!

I gotta go pounce now. *hiccup* xoxoxoxox

What is that saying about good deeds and punishment?

(I flashed the blog on Thursday for the first time in ages. Did you miss it? Scroll down to previous post.)

After a majorly shiteous week, I was sooooo grateful for 5pm Friday to come. I got home about 5:15pm, called my Sweetpea, and he tells me he is going to be working late (like, 10pm kind of late).

While on the phone, I see a lizard on one of my kitchen chairs. I tell hub I am going to release the lizard in to the wild. He laughs. We hang up.

I'm girly. I don't touch bugs, lizards, or anything that slithers about without legs. I do think lizards, especially this one, are cute though.

So.

A dilemma.

How do I save the lizard? How do I get him out the door without touching him?

Ah HA! I've got it!!! I will drag the chair to the door. He will leap off on to the grass, and my good deed is done!

I open the door, drag the chair over, and that little green varmit just sits there, blinking at me.

"SHOO!", I yell.

No reaction. Nada. Zilch.

"Do you want to get eaten by the dog?!?! SHOO! SCRAM! You must ESCAPE!", I yell.

Well this just isn't working.

I try pushing him off the chair with a magazine.

He moves about an inch and just blinks at me.

Bugger.

I need a new plan. The dog is getting curious. I don't have much time left.

Ah-HA! I've got it! If I drag the chair outside and tump the chair on it's side, THEN he will jump off!

So outside go me, the lizard and the chair, quickly followed my 100 pound golden retriever. Apparently Lars has some business of his own to take care of.

I'm tumping, shaking, rolling that damn chair, and the lizard is just looking at me like "Huh? What? Can I help you, you deranged lady?". Perhaps he had been inhaling the neighbors' weed smoke. This was one seriously laid back lizard.

At this point, I'm really getting frustrated.

The dog senses it, and gallops over to investigate. He sees the lizard, and tries to eat the damn thing. GRRRRR!

"YOU WILL NOT KILL THIS LIZARD! BACK! BACK, YOU BEASTIE!"

I push the dog inside, and pull the door shut.

I go back to work on the lizard, and finally, FINALLY, he gets tired of me and meanders down the leg of the chair and head's off to hunt for bugs (surely he has the munchies from all that weed smoke, right?).

Whew. Thank god.

So, after about 30 seconds of feeling rather pleased at myself, I go to turn the knob on the back door.

It won't turn. Why isn't it turning? What the......

Oh. My. Gawd.

I have locked myself outside of my house. Hub won't be home for at least four hours. Fuck!

Ok, maybe the neighbors are home. I need a phone. Get to a phone.

Apparently all of my neighbors went out at the same time, because NO ONE is home.

I go back in to my backyard to sit on my kitchen chair and think. The dog is freaking out because he can't get to me.

The events of the day, events of my awful week, ALL OF IT, hits me like a freight train. I fucking LOSE it.

The dog is crying INSIDE the house. I am crying OUTSIDE the house.

What the hell do I do? *sob*

I stand up, and eye the chair.

If I throw the chair through the window, will hub be angry? Will Lars get hurt by flying glass? Will I cut myself? Probably so.

I'm starting to shake. I think it's the cold. Yeah, it's the cold. Sure.

I wander back around and sit in my driveway. I sit there for a loooooong time. I notice the moon is full.

It's official. I'm cursed.

I'm staring up in to the sky counting some balloons that are floating across the night. I vaguely remember wondering who the heck was releasing balloons in the dark...?...I wonder if they have a cell phone...?...when......The Wee General (next door neighbor, physical trainer, occasional make out partner) finally drives up.

"Blondage??? Uhmmm.... Why are you sitting on your driveway in the dark staring at the sky?".

I sob.

She freaks.

"C-c-c-c-can I p-p-p-p-lease use your *sob* ph-ph-phone?"

"Blondage! WTF is WRONG!!!!"

"The lizard. I saaaaaaved it from the jaws of d-d-d-death!"

"What?!!?!"

"The dog! I s-s-s-saved it *sob* from the dog *sob* and I shut the DOOR!"

"Blondage, I'm lost."

"I'm locked out of the HOUSE!".

She looks at me.....jaw drops.....I can tell she is fighting a smile....

"You are locked out of your house because of a......lizard?"

"Yes. *sob*".

"Wine. You need wine."

Soooo.....she drags me in to her house, I call my husband and beg him to rescue me, and TWG forces wine down my throat.

Hub shows up about 45 minutes later. I see him, and immediately burst in to tears, yet again. He hugs me. I can feel him laughing, so I pinch him. He pets me, and calms me down.

I start at the beginning, and tell my tale of woe. We figure out that I was locked outside for almost three hours.

I babble. I cry. He manages to only laugh twice, but he looks like he is in pain.

With a look on his face that is one part sympathy, one part irony, and two parts humor.....he informs me that the lizard would have been safer inside the house. The next day he plans to mow the yard.

My stubborn, stoned lizard...

...that I SUFFERED for...

...that I bawled my eyes out over...

...who completely traumatized me...

...was probably (weed) whacked and hacked to death about an hour ago.

Am I a Sexual Barbie Doll?

Livey wrote a great comment yesterday that really got me thinking. It was in response to my little explanation post about my stalkers. In case you missed what she said:

Come on you can't be that naive. You're a freaking sexual barbie doll, every sick freak out there wants to dominate you. The fact that you like domination, to them, means you are game girl! To a sexual defiant psycho you are the perfect woman, and you want them!

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not a prude, far from it, and I think you're adorable. The whole spanking thing is not my thing, but hey to each their own. You write what you write to interest people. But you gotta know that's gonna interest some real whackos. And you're just too damn sweet about it. You need to be a little bitchier girl! Show those sick fucks that although you like to be dominated by your man, any other man is gonna get his dick cut off, shoved up his ass, then shoved down his throat!

I know you can do it, flex those muscles you've been working on! Start by posting their IP. But most of all, don't change who you because of a bunch of sick fucks!

*grinning* When I read that I had just gotten home from the gym and was soooo pumped up. Oh Flowers, if you could have seen me jumping up and down and flexing my muscles when Livey said to flex my muscles and be bitchier, channeling Howard Dean with a mighty mighty YARRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!! LOL! I scared the heck out of Other Half.

Well, ok, so you already probably know I regularly scare the heck out of Other Half.

*grin*

Anyways....

I gotta admit, yes, I can definitely be naive. And yes, I have often been accused of being too nice or too sweet. I WANT to be tough! I really do!!! I've tried to repress some of that "innocent" side of me here on the naughty blog. I even wrote about how I prefer to be called "dark and mysterious" at some point....but damn.....I can't quite seem get away from that whole "nice" thing. Argh.

Someone told me.....I think it was Nate......that people read my blog because I am a "good girl", that people can tell I am a "good girl", but that I have a very "naughty" side and it's intriguing or something. I can't remember the exact words. Is that how you see me Flowers? I can't help but be curious.

In regards to the BDSM thing, it is like anything else, there's good people and bad people involved in the lifestyle. I've been lucky here and only had the two odd ones come after me in a bad way. Everyone else I have met through this blog have been just as normal as me, just kinky. :)

That being said....does the combo of good girl/sweet girl/naughty girl who likes to be dominated make me odd? Unusual? Do you see me as a "Sexual Barbie Doll"? Does it sorta go back to the Madonna (the biblical one) outside the bedroom but a Madonna (ho-bag singer circa 1985) inside the bedroom fantasy/fascination thing?

Talk to me.