I spent most of today digging through the boxes of my stuff that I have littered around my grandmother’s house. It’s a bit like an emotional graveyard with boxes of things representing every single facet of my life; from piles of notes I passed to friends in high school to pamphlets and memorabilia from Japan. There were even a couple of pages of notes from a discussion I’d had with my first owner about reinforcing the rules when our relationship had floundered at one time or another and a card he had given me for ‘Slaventine Day’ (Valentine’s day). It might sound like I’m a bit of a hoarder, but actually I only keep things that build a story of where I’ve been and what I’ve done because the reality is that I have a terrible memory and without things to jog it, I forget things so completely that they may as well have not existed.
I also found my photo albums as I had been wanting to take them back to Perth with me. I flicked through the pages chronicling my 10 years in Japan (endless photos of drinking and karaoke), some random pics of my Year 10 & Year 12 school formals (ahh..early 90’s hairstyles!) and my wedding. My grandmother even had the programme, menu and schedule of my wedding as well as fifty million photos of me in the big white dress, so looking back over everything was quite a lengthy and emotional trip down memory lane.
Five hours, three bags of rubbish, a huge box of clothes for the good sammies and several “OMG, I can’t believe I’ve still got this!” exclamations later, I finished rifling through my emotional baggage, organized what I wanted to keep in one big box that is to stay at my grandmother’s, and made a couple of small piles of things to take back with me. It felt good to have worked through it all.
Today I also had lunch and dinner with my sister. Lunch was an emotional out-pouring over subway 6-inches about the tatters of her marriage and her fears for the future of her kids, while dinner was a more emotionally-together chat about work and the Twilight movie over turkey steaks and vegetables. We bonded over low-fat, low-cal diets and she announced that she thinks it’s time she came to Perth for a visit and a break from everything.
I mentioned the possibility of her impending visit to Master when I spoke to him a little while ago and his response was truly priceless:
“But I’m going to have to wear pants!”
Don’t you just love men-folk?
Yesterday I caught up with my one remaining friend from high school that I’ve known for 18 years and our five hours of conversation pretty much went like this: twilight movie, true blood, babies, babies, babies, twilight book series, babies, babies, true blood books, babies, babies, babies, babies, babies. I understand that everyone around me is in the prime reproductive age group, but seriously, there are only so many birthing experience stories and toilet training episodes I can take. Considering I haven’t seen or read any part of the twilight series, our conversation topics were stretched to the max, so thank god for true blood.
After my afternoon spent with my friend, the evening was spent with my mother where there was another emotional out-pouring about her recent break-up with her partner of 10 plus years and her inability to orgasm. It was weird, but there I was discussing in great detail what I did to get off and how the thickness of the tissue around my clit called for some pretty heavy-duty equipment and careful placement of said equipment. She said she was thinking about getting herself a dildo and I suggested that if she was built like me, a vibrator would be in order. She then asked what the difference between a vibrator and a dildo was….It was cute.
We then got onto the topic of my ex-hubby and she burst into tears saying how sorry she felt for him after what I did. My grandmother coincidentally has also done the same thing and consistently gets all teary whenever my ex’s name is mentioned. Guilt trip anyone?
Needless to say, all this emotional stuff has pushed my slavery into a tiny little corner in the back of my brain somewhere. Master has given me an instruction to wear something ‘easy to remove’ when I go home on Monday and he has been making noises about snapping my leash on inside the airport when I get off the plane. I think he’s also planning some serious ‘slave re-education’ as I’ve gone about as feral as one can go i.e. I’ve been too caught up in everything around me to give him the attention he deserves.
I think I need a holiday after my holiday.