Chemistry

A lazy Saturday trip to the mall - we bought some new towels and a giant clock for the home theatre - was followed by an afternoon watching porn. We cracked a bottle of wine - a white Viognier Grenache blend - and downed it to the first half hour of Chemistry Volume 1. This is a unique film that seems to try to exploit the worlds current fascination with reality television but instead serves as a pseudo-documentary that allows you to create some real empathy with the actors, which makes it a billion times hotter than most adult films.

After the wine (about 30 minutes for the bottle) we started with various sexual activities - the Goddess gave some fantastic head, much above her usual efforts, inspired by the film - and proceeded to get interactive with the next hour of the film. We were spent much earlier than the people in the film and there was still an hour left when we retired for a smoke and to assemble dinner.

We had some interesting conversations before/during/after the sex - mostly around inhibitions and a desire to be free of them. I was astonished to find myself watching an incredibly hot threesome where one of the girls was pegging the man, and we talked about the conflicting emotions we have around anal pleasure - she hates me thinking about her ass, I get extremely uncomfortable with enjoying her putting things in mine.

It wasn't a conversation that lent itself to a conclusion, but it did bring renewed awareness on my part to the deep parts of the psyche attached to sex and the way we are trained to be uncomfortable with how our bodies can bring ourselves and others pleasure. While the vast majority of the population would be uncomfortable on the surface with this idea, we'd all be a lot happier if we all fucked each other a little more often I think.

But it is a complex issue, and I suppose I'm being dismissive about its deep implications. It was really fun and refreshing to watch an adult film where the participants discuss how they have actually enjoyed each other, and (if very briefly) touch on their own emotional processes that let them explore sex in ways that fill me envy just as much as I'm sure they fill George W. Bush with rage.

Perhaps someday we'll reach a place where we can be comfortable renewing a lifestyle of exploring sexual pleasure with others in our community, but as the buzz from the wine rolls off my brain I remember all the fear, isolation, and paranoia previous explorations have left me with.

What Kind of Parent Will I Be?

You Will Be a Cool Parent

You seem to naturally know a lot about parenting, and you know what kids need. You can tell when it's time to let kids off the hook, and when it's time to lay down the law. While your parenting is modern and hip, it's not over the top. You know that there's nothing cool about a parent who acts like a teenager... or a drill sergeant!

Would You Be a Cool Parent?

Painting

I am watching the Domestic Goddess paint the bathroom right now, wearing nothing but her panties and an old Canadian Tire work shirt. When she is focused on the task at hand she prefers that I keep my hands to myself, but I want nothing more than to grab her from behind, pressing her against the wall and into the fresh paint. I'd slide her panties down to the floor and begin rubbing her from behind. She would spin, and push me into the opposite wall, and then we'd fall to the floor wrapped in each others limbs.

Somewhere along the way the paint would errantly be kicked off the counter and splash all over our hot naked bodies and we would leave a most interesting imprint on the bathroom tile floor.

Intention

She: I am so wound up now.
He: So what do you want to do about that?
She: Well later we can unwind and you can stick your fist in me.
He: I don't know if you can take it all...
She: Me neither, but it sure will be fun trying.
He: Want to do it when we get home?
She: No, thats not something I can do with my sister awake and alert.
( her inspiration )

Just How Messed Up Am I?

This is a question I have been asking myself alot lately. I've also spent a lot of time pondering just what it is that has brought on the sudden fit of insanity. At first, I chalked it up to stress: maybe from work, maybe from home, I don't know, but STRESS. But then, while in a sobbing heap of insecurity, Manservant questioned me about what the hell was going on and starting taking wild shots in the dark. I don't know that he's right, but part of me is seriously considering seeking out the services of a mental health professional.

One thing that came out of my rumpled heap of weapiness was that I don't know how to be happy. I don't even know exactly what I mean by that, but I know something isn't quite right. I have a hard time relaxing and enjoying the people and the things around me. It's always been that way, really. I love spending time in my house when it's spic-and-span clean.

I relish it, I do feel I truly enjoy that. I had this ritual when I first moved out of the house and started university. I would clean my room. Fresh sheets, laundry done, everything tidy. I would light up this old-fashioned oil lamp that I have and play a relaxation CD that sounded like a thunderstorm and just chill. Those were truly blissful time. I loved it. Sometimes I would just listen and imagine myself sitting in the middle of a rainstorm, getting drenched and feeling that peace pour over me. And on a truly magical day, there would be a real rainstorm and I'd go sit on the patio of my apartment and soak it all in. Other times I would masturbate furiously the way only a single girl can.

We still listen to that CD every night when we go to bed, but it just doesn't have the same impact now as it did then. Because my room now is never that clean, never that organized, never that peaceful. I think that's it really. I long for that feeling of peace.

I used to do the same thing at every school break--I would spend a whole day cleaning and reorganizing my room. I would rearrange furniture, I would dust, wash walls, clear out old school assignments that I didn't need to keep any longer. My room was always spotless, everything in it's place, bed made and blankets smoothed flat. Once I bought my own house and was renting rooms to other students I got even crazier about it. Suddenly there were 3 other people in the house making messes and leaving them for later. Didn't matter whether it was dishes or laundry or pizza boxes--the very presence of these things caused me to exist in this constant state of a simmering rage. I just couldn't let it go--I was not very popular with any of my roommates, but I really didn't give a shit. It was my house and I wanted it clean. Even if I had to clean it myself (which I did).

Not much has changed. I still obsess about cleaning. I still alienate those I live with. I don't really mean to, but I sincerely wish my husband 'understood' me when it comes to this stuff. He doesn't really. He stands by the whole 'I'm a man. It doesn't look dirty to me so I have no intention of cleaning it.' Where my philosophy is more along the lines of 'oh, the kitchen hasn't been vaccumed yet today--better get to it.'

I don't know if any of this relates to my current state of mental dysfunction. I can't help but think it does.

The second thing, and probably the more interesting point to be making, is that I am experiencing a tremendous amount of pressure to perform when it comes to weight loss. Manservant and I have discussed frequently how important it is for me to lose weight. I am beyond overweight--I have about 70 pounds to lose before I hit my weight loss target and I would love to do as much of this work as possible before trying to get pregnant. There is tons of information around about obesity and fertility and I am scared to death that infertility is going to be a problem for me. My mom had many miscarriages and in the end had 3 girls each spread 5 years apart. Combine this with the fact that I am nearly 30 and I'm freaking out. I feel like this is my last kick at the can. If I fuck it up now, I'm, well, fucked.

Now, I know that this is not something that is written in stone. I haven't signed some kind of blood oath promising to get skinny before bearing children. I want to lose weight before getting pregnant, I really do.

There is one more piece to the puzzle. I do not want to become either my sister or my mother. Their lives are completely out of control. They behave as if they have no control over their destiny and sometimes I can't help but wonder if they believe it too. They are victims. It is everyone else who has screwed up somehow, but never them. They live in a constant state of chaos. Sometimes this chaos means that the Christmas turkey doesn't make it out of the oven until way after it's done. Other times the chaos means that your living room blinds have been completely mutilated by your 2 year old and you've done absolutely nothing to stop it or to fix it. You're content living with these total ghetto blinds.

Not me. Not ever. My turkey is always done to perfection and the entire meal planned to the T. My blinds are never fucked. And I did not get pregnant well before I ever intended to. Because you see, I didn't want to get pregnant, so I went about dealing with this in a responsible fashion. I used birth control.

I do not want to be like the other women in my family. And the thing that's scaring the hell out of me right now is that I am feeling just as unstable as they are in some ways. I keep my life pieced together far more effectively than either of them ever have. But how long can I maintain it? How long can I go before I crack?

We're about to find out.

I hate it when life steps between my wife and my penis.

It has been a sexless week. Stepping up the weight loss initiative we've being going to the gym at 5:30 AM twice a week. This has pretty much killed entirely the rest of life as we know it aside from the basics of work and rudimentary chores. We are, essentially, mindless zombies. And even with Peter Jackson to the contrary, mindless zombies don't fuck.

But the Goddess was out of town one night for work and we got really saucy on the gTalk talking about her getting a strap on and fucking me in the ass. I don't know how I discovered anal play being enjoyable - probably one of those hey I'll try anything moments - but for the most part she doesn't indulge me in such stimulation. It's not a bisexuality fantasy thing as I've proven to my satisfaction that I'm pretty much entirely heterosexual. I'm just a kinky bastard.

We've been listening to the Radio Blowfish Variety Show and like what we hear. Why couldn't we have friends in the real world like this? Oh, right, we live in hell. Anyway, they recommended a good harness for such activities but I'm concerned about sizing on my plus-sized lover. I can't say I ever imagined I'd write the email I'm about to write. Life is beautiful.

Courage in the Face of Others

The Domestic Goddess and I really have communication down to an art. We can talk about anything. Now this doesn't preempt the typical, farcical, marital spats that stem out of a lack of communication that to others would be totally obvious. I said we know how to talk, not that we can change the innate nature and qualities of a heterosexual relationship.

In the past we've had lots and lots of conversations about our sexual fantasies, our desires, our fetishes, our curiosities. The chats have been deeply erotic and have lead to frantic and intense love making. However, its typically been very vanilla love making. Hey, no harm in that.

There are two unique subcategories of failed fetishism that deserve explicit discussion though. First is bondage and BDSM. We really wanted to try this and we did, and while we discovered that she does really get off on feeling confined (gaffing tape was best) actual sessions of domination or submission intended to heighten the pleasure just left us cold. Literally. We even tried turning up the heat. You just get cold and bored and while the spanking of flogging is hot for 5 minutes you just get sore and achey and the mind goes on a little siesta.

And then there is the swinging. That is a fucking novel right there that is. I'll jump straight to the tl;dr; and summarize that while we have had some hot as hell threesomes, and feel that the more very well could be the merrier, all adherents in group sex we have met have put us off our eros. Boo. Fucking boo. My wife is all for having another girl in bed and I can't fucking find one that doesn't make me feel like I'm just being promiscuous.

Now thats an important last sentence, because this really could be entirely in my head. This could all be a me or an us thing. But I think there is a big difference between being promiscuous and being sexually adventurous.

I've been reading a lot of sexblogs lately, and I'm really fucking annoyed that we don't have the bravery to be sexual extroverts. I don't know what I/we need to do: work through personal issues? Compromise mental models of integrity? Keep it in my head while I masturbate to videos of orgies comprised of 19 year old drug addicts desperate for a dollar simultaneously selling out my dignity and exploiting young women ALL THE WHILE having a hell of an orgasm into a towel?

I wish a solution was more apparent, but exploring sexual themes touched deep into the psyche, and all the insecurity I have left in life seems to live right next to that place.

But its bloody annoying, I'll have you know.

I love my wife

I just wanted to post and say I love my wife. That might sound rather self indulgent, but its important to say because I really love her that damn much. I don't think people accept those kind of declarations as necessary, but they are wrong. It needs to be repeated loud and often: I love my wife, she is extremely special to me, and no - you can't have her.

Thoughts for Later Elaboration

- A item is good only in so much as to the degree it introduces joy into your life.

- The bringing of joy is only found within the act of experience, and this experience must be driven out of a motivation to experience wonder. If you attempt to experience something without this sense of wonder, you are guaranteed to find tedium at the most essential levels.

- In agrarian societies, articles that would evoke this sense of wonder were quite rare, and had to be produced via the combined effort of dozens of individuals. It was a literal scarcity, which is difficult to understand unless you are forced to experience it.

- Due of the effort required to produce it, the strength of character to produce the art was of incredible magnitude. Thus, those who could appreciate the art were given elevated status of a sort. This is the most fundamental capitalist relationship of supply and demand.

- As the standard of living rose in the west, entertainment has managed to penetrate to lower classes of society: the middle class, or the poor, for example. Because of the lack of effort involved in experiencing entertainment, it is trivial to consume such things without digesting them, the next replacement is easier to obtain.

- However, one need not be of any economic status to learn to appreciate things. And it is in the appreciation of these things that true wealth, happiness, is found.

Back to Reality

We've been fighting lately, a lot. A lot more than is usual for us. I know this has been mentioned previously, but it just seems like there is this tremendous strain on our relationship. Part financial, partly related to the whole issue of weight loss, part our own individual stresses relating to work. But it's getting to us. Our vacation seems like it was a lifetime ago already and in reality it's only been 2 weeks.

I'm on edge, he's on edge. We don't seem to be able to be there for each other in any real meaningful way. We aren't working well together as a team.

We have talked about it, of course. We are both feeling the same way. But what do we do about it? I'd like to focus on us--spend time together, do fun things, have loads of great sex, reconnect. I'm just feeling like there isn't enough of me to go around lately. I've been busy with work and I'm feeling like things at home are getting out of hand--the list of things that 'need' doing is getting longer by the minute. I say 'need' in this context because my version of things that are requiring attention is about a mile longer than his list of things that are needing attention. But where is the compromise? There has to be a way to make this work. But I'm getting to the point where I'm not relaxing at all and my stress is getting in the way of enjoying almost everything. I can't focus on the things I'd like to be focusing on right now either. We bought gym passes about a week ago and haven't tried them out yet because we haven't had time...or haven't chosen to spend our time at the gym. We are going to try to go in a couple of mornings a week. Neither of us are morning people and are doubtful as to how that is actually going to work, but I think it's far more likely that we can get in the habit of getting up early 2 days a week and getting it over with than heading back out to go after work or after dinner. It would be far nicer to be able to just settle our asses in front of the TV or something and not have to worry about the gym at all.

But all of these priorities--how the hell do people manage? I'm looking at my list of spring cleaning/organizing and thinking I need to take 2 days off of work to get it all done. But that seems crazy! I just hate having to spend every moment of my weekend dealing with shit like that. But it really should be done. It wouldn't be the end of the world if it weren't done, but seriously.....I know how dusty my house gets between cleaning--how can I leave my curtains unwashed any longer???

I have issues around cleaning and my house. I know that....and I'm trying to loosen up a bit. But I find that I spend more time convincing myself that I should let it go than it would take for me to just take care of it. I don't know where to find the balance.

I guess the biggest part of my frustration relates to all of these pressures I'm experiencing and feeling that I am the only one who is making an attempt to deal with them. I know that's not quite true--I'm not silly enough to think that this is happening in a vacuum or something. But I do feel like he can be an ostrich sometimes. At the same time, I know he's got all sorts of pressures as well--he's unhappy with work, he's worried about finances and when he's got down time it's downtime. Nothing gets in or through to him when he is in that head space.

Why can't every day be like a day spent with a Miami Vice in one hand and a good novel in the other while lapsing in and out of consciousness on the pool deck?

Affairs of the Infernal

We watched a peculiar little movie tonight, Mou gann dou. You probably don't think you've ever heard of it, but many of you have seen the remake of it staring Leonardo di Caprio, Jack Nicholson, and Matt Damon. Its western name is Infernal Affairs, remade by Martin Scorsese as 4 time Oscar winning The Departed.

Infernal Affairs is extremely similar to The Departed, with notable changes being an extreme marginalization of the female characters. Indeed, they serve as only occasional exhibits of conscience, and in the case of the psychologist (who is not in this film the romantic love interest of the corrupt cop) a means for exposition from the protagonist.

Also, the ending is not nearly as neatly tied up as The Departed, and this is both good (I always thought Mark Wahlbergs' character was all sorts of Deux-ex-Machinaed cheap) and for ill (key plot points of the ending are reserved for subtitled exposition - lazy!).

Infernal Affairs is also more meditative on its characterization, offering snippets of Buddhist thought to bookend the film, creating a more lasting impression. The Departed, however, features a lot more snappy and entertaining dialogue.

I do think Infernal Affairs was the better film, but The Departed was slightly more enjoyable to just sit and watch. Art vs. gratification, I suppose. Either way, no reason to not just watch both, is there?

And....FIGHT!

Lately we've been fighting a lot. We've also not been blogging much, as you've seen, and I think it all comes out of the same place. We have lofty, fluffy, nebulous goals for our lives that we never seem to be able to find traction in climbing towards. Weight loss, financial balance, time for happy-love-smooshy moments, it all seems to get wrapped up in a little package that gets entirely ignored when things get stressful.

We recently took an extended 2 week vacation, and while the vacation was 99.9% stress free (I don't think we had even the remotest conflict on it, you know) it really exacerbated the issues back home. When removed from our stressful existence, we are the happiest people on the planet. However, we seem to lack totally the capacity or mechanisms to deal with the real world successfully. It was really dismaying to compare our first week back from vacation with our week on vacation. Ugh.

I'm not sure what this is really about, as I suspect I have feelings somewhat unique to my generation. As the affluence of western society grows (built, I suspect, on the shore of an ocean of economic collapse) each successive generation grows further and further from a work ethic based on survival. We have a growing sense of entitlement to happiness unfounded on any sort of actual effort or the concept of reaping what we sow. I see it more and more in the people who are 17,18, or 19 now, but I reflect on it being substantially the cause of my own personal torment.

Its really fucking obnoxious. We watched a good movie tonight, but I'll make a separate post for that.

I WANT TO TAKE YOU TO THE GAYBAR! (shout out to the kleptones)

Tonight we sat in bed and played Ticket To Ride. How sad is that?

I've left that link running long deliberately to highlight how fucking sad it is that I did that. I don't mean sad in reflection to me. I'm fucking smart. I know how to fix shit like that. However, there is no obvious way to correct it in the GUI of this editor and I forget how to easily fix it. I remember a long way (long meaning 30 seconds) but I'm too lazy and stoned to fix that.

So for reasons I feel I must be deliberately vague on, I recently ended up at a gay bathhouse. I feel very anxious about using the right words to express my feelings on this because I want them to be clear. I do not identify with contemporary gay culture which this place was totally dripping in but I was feeling comfortable, a bit of a country bumpkin in the big city, and god damn it I didn't want to go back to a boring hotel room (the only occupant being a pack of cigarettes I shouldn't have owned or wanted to smoke). So I went as part of a social outing that kind of naturally organized itself. (the organization was not to go to the bathhouse, and only a subsection of those at the event in question continued to the bathhouse.

Maybe you, like I, are unfamiliar with how it works. Maybe I'll go into that some other time in detail. Suffice to say I watched gay men partner for anonymous sex. They'd walk up, grab a little ass, and disappear. Now there were places - the porn room, the lounge - where there was a more public and stationary exhibit of gay sexuality but I didn't linger in them.

Indeed all I did do was spend an hour (we preagreed to meet at 3) in the steam room having a most excellent steam. It was a steam room with a hot tub in the middle of it so my oh my was it steamy. While I clearly did not indulge in all the features the establishment offered I thought it was $15 well spent. I never in my life thought I would have done such a thing. I called my wife immediately to wake her up and tell all. She was a little pissed about that, mitigated only slightly by the difference in time zones.

While I feel a bit like a sexual anthropologist in this I do feel slightly like I might be objectifying anonymous gay sex for my amusement and this is far from the case. I'm not sure I've settled on why I believe some are gay and some are straight, but I'm not unfamiliar with the sexual uses of another mans penis (just like 1 in 3 adult males out there). I somewhat wish I was more like the characters of Alan Moore's Lost Girls who would have jumped down the throat of the experience all guns blazing.

However that is a fictional world and I have a very real wife that gets preconsent on my sexual adventures. It was part of the contract I signed by marrying her. And while I confess truly that the thought of having a homosexual encounter never crossed my mind despite the veritable abundance of opportunity there is a caveat. The key figure in deciding to go was that I was absolutely hammered. Fantastically drunk. 13-14 ounces of rum served with diet cola. I couldn't have gotten an erection if my life depended on it.

Since I'd been known to act rashly in the heat of the moment - and the lack of sex for 4 days had created some heat - I knew such inability to perform would guarantee security and I happily jumped aboard what proved to be a very unexpectedly good time.

(and for the record, this experience with anonymous homosexual gay sex was practiced with more attention to safety than any anonymous heterosexual experience I've had)

Identity

One thing I'm terrified to contemplate is my identity. One thing I can describe is that I am a perpetually negative person - I constantly cling to the flaws in things. Tell me you like X, I will tell you what is wrong with X. This is not to say that X is bad and that you shouldn't like it, but I obsess with inadequacies.

One thing I've found that this means is that I, personally, am nothing. I don't adhere to any real beliefs, or should I say ideologies. I have a lot of beliefs, but ideologies bother me. Once you apply a label to a set of beliefs it masks so many different nuances both explicit and implied. So to avoid any misconceptions I run away from doing anything substantial, to avoid criticisms I make no positive affirmations, and I think that I'm finding that in doing this I am not finding true happiness.


This is a glaring issue in most facets of my life, but the worst right now is in religion. By extension this means the community I construct around me as religion should be a means of finding communion with your fellow man. However, since I'm not into inherited religion or group delusions I find my spiritual leanings conflicted. Ostensibly I adhere to neopaganism in the vicinity of Wicca, but both those labels are loaded with connotations and stereotypes that are inapplicable.

And again I lament the lack of success in finding others with a similar degree of critical attention. Of course I'm also lamenting here that I *have* this degree of critical attention, but I think one reason why I suffer is an inability to develop a community around me through which to exercise my cynicism away. My critical leanings are not trivial, and constantly they are dealt with trivially by people around me. I wish I could find a group of friends who would help be embrace this, digest it, and pass it through.

Potential

If you have a low tolerance for arrogance I suggest you turn away now. It's not that I'm so drenched in hubris that this will be intentional, acknowledged in the first remark, and still pursued. What it is though is musings on destiny.

We'll start with in how I don't believe we have one. We're not preordained to accomplish any substantial feat when we first set forth from the womb into the world. As we grow and generate our own little adorable cognitive psyche we do not become cogs in a predetermined machine nor to we slip into roles set out in the cosmic dance.

This is of course simply a belief system I choose to hold. If the opposite were true - and I was predestined to believe the above (that being a lie) I would of course be powerless to change it and well thats the kind of discussion best saved for M.C. Escher paintings.

What I do believe is that our souls are happiest doing ... something. A big problem with the world is that people don't figure out what that something is and get waylaid with all sorts of impressions and invitations and insinuations that what will make our souls happy is coincidentally something that when obtained will advance the agenda of someone else. Thus the battle for dollars and mindshare is ever continuing.

And its not that materialism is bad. Maybe some souls are happiest selling and some buying and some being envious and others happy as a fucking pig in shit breaking into your house and stealing all of your crap to buy black market prescription drugs. The problem as I see it is I do not see people actually engaging in a personal dialog and trying to understand what really makes them happy. In my theory the answer can be anything, but those who are cleaving to one thing or another without exploring the issue have not found their answer because in my experience finding that answer is a difficult path fraught with peril and I find it hard to believe anyone could accidentally stumble down it.

I don't know exactly what makes my soul happy. I'm very fond of sex, as well as all forms of multimedia engagement. I suspect to be happy I must continually dabble within both spheres. However I have a nihilistic approach to both spheres, and especially the people who purport to adhere to either.

I previously mentioned in sensationalistic passing that we have attended orgies in the past. We've stopped having anything whatsoever to do with the local swinging scene as in our opinion - or, let me say my opinion as I can only speak for me - the people involved were pretty off kilter.

I do have fantasies and visions of a subculture where I can exist in a sublime lack of self doubt and fear, and a big part of that would be the ability and comfort with expressing my sexuality in whatever way I see fit. But given the levels of social pitfall society builds around sexual expression, I can't accept a cavalier migration to that sort of existence as anything other than a self-destructive denial that eventually ruins everything it touches. So when we encountered a group that was dominated by men and women who would have sex with anyone, clearly (and openly) accelerated by all manner of drug, and these people were more than a little lazy about barrier protection in sexual behaviors, I was both fascinated and filled with a defensive urge to run as fast as humanly possible in the other direction.

The fascination stems from a carnal voyeuristic impulse, and that no matter how you slice it watching 6 or 7 women have group sex is all sorts of hot. The defense mechanism comes from the simple mathematics that while I am very open to advanced sexual frontiers this willingness is build on a foundation of openess, honesty, and trust. Nothing any of these people seems to give a damn about. My overall conclusion is that it would be nothing short of suicidal to engage sexually with these people.

And let me tell you how much I didn't want that to be the case.

It is, really, the same with multimedia; less pretentiously video games and movies. I'm a big fan of science fiction and fantasy, but the internet subcultures that build up around such genre entertainment is fucking frightening. It seems to be a quest to artificially create a social niche in which one can define oneself according to pre-shared community standards rather than a sincere expression of enjoyment or a celebration of an artistic work. I've attended one video game convention and found it very hard to relate to the people there - I feel I love video games more than anyone I met there, but I was unwilling to slot myself into a convenient fandom and thus was not speaking the same language.

The parallel to religion is perhaps very apt, and I as always am filling the role of the true heretic. Each subculture builds up certain things and I feel compelled to dwell on the deficiencies each thing brings to the table. It is not a pessimism, it is a hard and fast desire to be un-beholden to anything other that the reality of the experience and to pick and choose from various candidates. Indeed, perhaps it could be said I evaluate things not on what they do right or how good they are, but on how much they do wrong or how bad they are. Again this isn't cynicism, it is more a unflinching appreciation for honesty. Everything is terrible - some of it just tries harder.

And it is that trying that makes the critical difference. Picture two individuals attempting the same task. One will undoubtedly accomplish it better than the other and in doing so be "better". However we should not evaluate our lives based on the complex and multivalued standards of others, no, instead we should find out what is going to make our soul happy and strive to do that as well as we can. As long as we are open to some surprising understandings of the self this seems to be a foolproof proposition as its only real directive is "try" followed by "keep trying". I see myself surrounded by people that defy the fundamental honesty that is necessary to even begin that struggle, and it makes me sad.

But I'll try to be more open about that tomorrow.

Feeling Empowered, for a Change

For those of you who may of missed it, we are now into 2007. A new year for most people is an opportunity to outline the areas of our lives where we feel we could be doing better, the areas we'd like to actively work to improve over the upcoming year.

I don't usually get too excited about resolutions and to this point in my life have not really participated in the cult of the New Year Resolution.

This year is looking pretty good though and I guess I'm pumped about it. It seems to be ripe with opportunity, with untapped potential and I'm feeling like maybe, just maybe I can set some goals this year and take advantage of this positive energy.

So, for this year I've taken a look at the areas in my life that I know I can do better in and I'm hoping that just the act of saying them out loud and recording them here might prompt me down the road to self improvement and actualization.

1 ~ Weight Watchers. So far, I know this is working for me. And it works even better when I actually stick to the program. I've grown lazy when it comes to recording my food intake, drinking my water and have become entirely apathetic when it comes to those unknown foods (it's really easy to 'forget' to record food when you know you don't know how many points it was worth). The holidays have not been kind to me and I need to get back on the boat. This is a BIG deal and I am determined that I am going to lose a significant amount of weight before I become pregnant.

2 ~ Doing my best at work. It is sometimes easy to slack off in my position, but I have realized that if I am going to use the position as a launching pad for future government jobs that I need to work as hard as a I can and I need to do that all the time. I need to be giving this job my all right now. I'm only going to develop my professional skills as much as I 'want' to. I know that. I need to push myself to do things I don't really like doing. Presentations is a big thing--I don't mind them really, but I certainly don't go looking for opportunities to present. And I need to. I am also going to be supervising a practicum student until April and I'm really nervous about that. I know what it's like to be a student and have really poor leadership. It's difficult to learn and you feel as if you are wasting your time. I don't want to do that to this guy. He deserves the best I have to offer him and he will get it.

3 ~ Increasing activity level. There are a couple of aspects to this. Resident Manservant has plateaued with his weight loss. He dropped nearly 30 pounds within the first 2 months and has been steady for the past 3 weeks. I need to start being more active. It's part of the program overall, and I've been entirely neglecting it. I don't know what we are going to do exactly. We have discussed joining a gym together, we also were doing aquafit classes together for a time. It seems to be easier if we are doing things as a couple, so we need to focus on finding things that work for both of us.

4 ~ I want to read more. In the last month or so I have picked up a couple of books that have been laying around for some time and have actually been reading them! I'm horrible for this. I see books that I think I'd like and I buy them, but never seem to get around to reading them. I've nearly finished reading a novel that I started on Boxing Day and have been fondly reminded of how much I enjoy reading. I never seem to have time. But I would like to start making time. I miss it.

5 ~ Planning for Success. For me this a broad statement relating to both my weight loss, but also to financial stuff. We've a wack of debt that we need to work more effectively at managing. We have already discussed some of our options with our bank and are planning to visit to go over them in more detail. For the next several months I am hoping that both of us can curb our personal spending and and work down the debt as much as possible before we refinance. Planning for continued success is an idea that I'm slowly coming around to. It doesn't happen accidentally--either gaining or losing. Planning meals, planning shopping, planning for eating out--these are all essential to our continued success.

6 ~ SEX, SEX, SEX. We don't have nearly enough of it. When we do, it's amazing, but we are generally pretty lucky lately if we are able to get to it twice a week. AND THAT'S NOT ENOUGH!!! But let me tell you, since Resident Manservant has dropped his weight, it is so much more amazing that I want it all the time.

7 ~ Relationship stuff. I think we have learned a lot in the last year on how to be a better couple, but I'm sure there is still a ton to learn. I have realized what it means to work as a team, to act as a team, to support each other as a team. But there is always room for improvement.

8 ~ Spirituality. Resident Manservant has already spoken to the path of the year, and I hope that we can continue down this path together. And maybe this time we can be a little less side-tracked and much more focused.

9 ~ Ab work. This one's kind of silly and fits into the general fitness idea, but I'd like to focus on gaining abdominal strength. I have done this in the past by doing as little as 15 minutes of ab work before bed in the evening, along with my stretching. I'd like to do this 3 evenings a week.

That's my list. It's long. I do think though that we have done a lot of work already that has primed us to start working even harder now. This doesn't seem that overwhelming after all.

Totally doable, right?

Family is just AWESOME!!!

I know I should be grateful for family. I know that. But I DON'T CARE!

It needs to be said first that my Christmas (and presumably, our Christmas) was awesome. The day certainly lived up to my very high expectations and I loved every minute of the chaos. I was spoiled rotten by Resident Manservant and received a brand new MacBook, among several other substantial gifts. But, most of all, I was able to show our families a good time and show them how much I appreciate them.

My grandma decided to opt out of Christmas this year. Except she didn't actually tell anyone this, she just pitched a fit and refused to come for Christmas dinner on Christmas day and then again last night refused another family gathering. I don't know what has gotten into her, really. She doped herself up on sleeping pills so that she could sleep through it altogether. When my mom and dad and aunt went in late last night in the middle of a blizzard she went on about how she hated Christmas and she didn't want to spend her holiday with a bunch of drunks (which we aren't) and how marrying my grandpa was the biggest mistake she ever made and that we don't know Christmas.

I think this is primarily a Mormon versus the world thing where she feels that we are somehow beneath her because we don't follow the mormon faith. But she does not seem to realize (or maybe she just doesn't care) that Christmas is (or should be, in my opinion) about being with family. It is a time of good nature, good tidings and generousity of spirit. Regardless of your spiritual beliefs, it is a time to embrace our likenesses and enjoy each others company. It is a time for tolerance and understanding.

It seems though that because we are not mormon we aren't worth her time on Christmas day. So much for family.

The Night Before Christmas

Well I just finished putting the final ribbon and bows on packages for my wife. I've kind of spoiled her rotten this Christmas but honestly she deserves it.

It is an interesting time of year, just barely past the solstice we celebrate the birth of the Christian "newborn king" as we anticipate the winter to come. I know when I was a kid we used to be up to our arse in honest to god Canadian winter by now, but last year I think it hit 15 or 20 degrees Celsius on Christmas day. Not going to be that warm this year, but fat chance of a white Christmas.

Anyway, the point is that I think this coming year has a lot of promise. Metaphorically the coming months will symbolize the growth of the divine sun child from a newborn to sexual maturity come May 1. I hope our spiritual lives can follow that path through the coming cold, I know I plan to work on it.

But now its time to crawl under the stairs to retrieve the hidden "Santa" presents and stuff them under the tree. Then it will be time to smoke a big bowl of marijuana and have a cigarette with a Baileys on ice. After that it will be bedtime, but not before dragging my wife under the Christmas tree for some Christmas sex.

That's a family tradition, see.

It's Christmas Time

I don't know what it is about Christmas this year, but more than ever I am excited to be celebrating it with the one I love. My heart gets all squishy every time I think about waking up on Christmas morning wrapped in the arms of the one I love.

It's easy for us to think that our relationship is the one and only happy relationship out there, and, god, do I ever hope that isn't true. But I FEEL like I am the only woman who has ever truly experienced love in its purest form. Unconditional, tried, tested and true. The kind of love that makes you want to
tell the world so that everyone can bask in the beauty of it.

When I look at him, I see so much in his eyes. I see our future. I see our children. I see our perfect love. I see his soul and I see him, seeing mine.

Christmas just doesn't get any better than this.

What does this say about me?

I guess this might have something to do with why I'm doing so poorly with my Weight Watchers.

Greed:	High
Gluttony:	Medium
Wrath:	Medium
Sloth:	High
Envy:	Medium
Lust:	Medium
Pride:	High

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