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talking to people online!


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i hate it!

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huh. that was weird

The Tales of Gnosis College.

i found an image on motherless, i looked for the author/artist names on google, and found that.  i was not expecting porn on internet archive.  i guess the guy put it there?

i'm not even going to try to explain what's going on.  it's not really "good," but it's definitely "interesting."

read volume 2 if you want a quick look.  it's really the most porn-y of them all, with a minimum of the weird crazy backstory stuff that doesn't really work for me.  and definitely stick through it to chapter 5 towards the end for the story that made me read the other parts that come after (they're not as good).

i'm going to tag things i saw, and you'll just have to accept that i don't have tags for all the weird stuff.

Spa Treatment: Part 1

this is part one of like five, i think.  it's all outlined, but this is the only one with words so far.  i'll probably wait to submit it to story sites until it's done, but plan to do the individual chapters here for people who read stuff here.

this isn't related to the exhibition series at all, sorry.

Spa Treatment

i am bad at things

talking to people, responding to emails, accepting people who think i'm not utter shit.

sorry about that.

i'm going to try to get through all my emails and comments i haven't responded to yet.  if you don't get a response and think you should have, mail me again and i'll try to do so.  i really wasn't expecting "exhibition" to take off so much that people would be writing me nice email about how much they liked it.  i like you!  thanks!

but there are so so many of you, and when i have to chat, i tend to listen to the voice in my head who says, "hey!  let's hide under the blanket forever!  no one can find you there! yay!"

that voice is a jerk, and i know that, but that blanket is pretty sweet, right?

anyway, just a note from me about how i want to chat, but can't chat due to reasons, so i'm sorry i'm bad at things.

not dead

although i was jammed up in a plane for like a thousand hours today.  and then i fell asleep for another thousand.  because travel sucks.

also, it turns out the east coast is super hot and humid and they don't have trades.  basically: summer there sucks.

so....how are things going with you?  i'm kind of ok, i guess.  my boss is off on vacation for a week, and a lot of other people at work went with "fuck it, i'm touring the country" too.  probably will be a lazy week at work for me.

i need to get a story guide posted soon, because i saw that there were a bunch of comments about stories.  "exhibition" is done, everyone.  at least as far as i can tell right now.  "spa treatment" is next, but it's going slowly for some reason.

anyway, just a "my plane didn't crash" thing.

me. in social situations. or like, the fucking safeway. all the time, basically.

huh. that's a new one.

Dissociation.

i'm kind of thinking i had an episode or something like that today.  i was talking online with my friend from across the country, and suddenly thought of telling her about this other friend who was saying absolute nonsense.

and i sat there thinking about it, and when i couldn't come up with the other name to bring up, i realized that i was kind of out of it.

and then i realized that i'd somehow split her into two people in my head, and that i was about to tell her about the crazy shit she'd just done.

this doesn't seem like the best thing to have happen.  hopefully work will stop punching me in the tummy every damn day soon, and i'll be able to go try therapy again.

but first, i get to fly across the ocean, and then the rest of the country next week for a big work conference thing that i don't really want to go to, but my boss didn't give me a choice.

so if there's a plane crash in the news, and i suddenly stop posting forever, then i'm dead now, because i had to go to this conference i didn't even want to go to, but it's too bad, because it killed me.

dead.

but, hey!  good news!

work finally stopped punching me in the tummy.  every damn day.

:-/

hard limits

things i will never ever be into:

1. bugs.  no bugs.  ever.  ick.
2. eyes.  don't touch eyes.  do you wear contacts?  no.  stop.  wrong.  ick.  you put them on your eyes.  you see from there.  and you put something on it.  whoa.
3. finger nails.  all nails really.  don't try to put things under them, or whatever.  never do that.  that's just wrong too.  gah.
4. teeth.  i have teeth, they're not great, but they're mine.  i use them for chewing on stuff.  why would anyone want to read about teeth and horrible things done to them?  no.  stop it.  chomp!

sorry, just a "my brain has to put this out there now" kind of thing.  these are just forever nos. 

i know i like lots of fucked up shit that no one else likes, but there's some stuff that's just an instant turn off.  like brick wall kind of turn off.

does anyone else?

get this super panic feeling that just shows up for no reason, and you just have to coast through it, because you can't just get xanax to have forever unless you agree to sit down and do therapy again?

like

everything gets all tunnel vision, and you have the shaky arm stuff, and you just sit and stare blankly, hoping that your heart will just stop and kill you before you have to deal with people who will totally notice how off you are?

and then people show up, and start talking, and you turn your brilliant gaze at them, and they look like they're in this oval frame of shining light, but you have to strain to hear them, because you have those bees in your ears?

and then they go away, and you sit for an hour trying to remember what you said, and trying to figure out if your arm was really shaking as much as you think it was, because if it was, there's really no way anyone who isn't blind could have missed that shit, right?

and then you look at your work computer, and realize you have so much to do before the deadline, but you can't get that into you head, especially with this shining frame and difficulty getting the mouse to stay still.


sorry.

just

so much panic being pushed into my tiny brain.  i really wish i had more xanax.  is that me being a druggie?

do i even care at this point?

:-/

i stumbled across this author

and read the "Sow Primer" series, and i will probably have to go read some more of his stuff.

do other people

have this thing, where they google something, and then realize that wasn't what they intended to google, but it's too late now, you've learned about (like) ancient greece, and now you can't remember what you were going to google at all?

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The Exhibition: Breakfast

i don't know that i'm going to continue much more.  i just had to put a finish on things.

i did this as kind of stream-of-consciousness, which i usually don't do.  i like outlines, and detailed plot flows.  however, this has been kicking around my head for a few weeks, and that kind of smooths out the rough bits too.  and, since i'm trying to write a new story series (six parts or so?), i just wanted to get this out and done.

it's an epilogue.  or a segue.  we'll see how it goes.

it's boring, and not sexy, and not really super kinky.  it's words mostly.  and eggs and bacon.  it's breakfast.  but i had to get it out.

Breakfast.

in which sammy learns about other people who were probably lesbians, or at least bi, and i've known their work for like fucking forever.

Dusty Springfield.

i never knew who did that song, and then it popped up randomly, and i looked at it, and huh.

or that one.

or, that other one, but i guess dianne warwick did it first?  whatever.  that's not what i remember from listening in my grandparents' car.

this is apparently my life now.


freaking out about random shit from like sixty years ago, while i stay up later than i should before that stupid telecon with the east coast?

wah.

so yeah

i just tested

and if i send email from me, i totally get it on the other end, despite my email telling me it failed.

so, if i sent you like 99 messages, super sorry.

if i sent you zero messages, i'll try to get on that tomorrow.  i'm just too tired to bother with it right now.

stupid mail.

my email is all broken

i can get and read email (i think), but i can't send anything, or at least i don't see that i've sent things correctly.

which sucks, because i have like four emails i need to respond to, and i can't, and it sucks, and poop.

double poop.

holy shit

did you know they have pillow cases with pockets for the pillow?  like, you put the pillow in, then you pull the pocket over, and the pillow stays in the case because of the pocket.

i just discovered my new sheets did that.  that's brilliant.   why isn't this on all pillows?  i hate waking up with my face on just pillow.  this like locks them in.


anyway.

new story idea (because of something someone said), so i'm plotting it out.  i'm thinking of doing a super short update to "exhibition," and so maybe that'll get a sequel at some point?

work sucks, life sucks, feeling slightly less crazy than usual.  go me.

just.

pillow case pockets.

wonderful.

"your blog"

i've had a number of emails recently that were all "your blog."  is this the default?  really?


so, if people read this and care:

can you change it to like:  "your blog,  but we're totally cool, don't freak out."

because i do all the time, ok?

so

 be polite!

i liked this story

Andrea and the Changing Friendship.

i didn't read the earlier two parts, so i'll need to go back and do that.

it's a good story.

i want to brag about people i know who are artists.

first, Mr Veterinarian. he's totally on some kind of hiatus now, but i'm sure he'll be back one day to post even more cooler pictures than he's already done.  and that reminds me, i owe him a story at some point.

second, Mr Sador.  he's been super cool with me stealing his wonderful image for my header, and although he's kind of often too harsh for me (i like arms!), he's really a great guy.

Mr Christopher, who mostly doesn't do art anymore, but makes beautiful leather to put on people to make them into art.  i dare you to read his blog and not wish he'd make something, and put it on you so you can't escape.

Mr Hazy Cosmic Joe, who i know told me his real name on email, but i can't remember it now, so i'm going with the deviant art thing, and yes, i get that this is a really shitty "i know this person, but i needed one more, and we've done email before, so it's nearly like we're friends, just be cool about it, ok?"   this was seriously one of my very first experiences with bondage stuff, and if you like crazy sammy today, it's probably because of this stuff.