30 Questions to Ask Before 2016

1. What did you do this year that you’re proud of? Completing my first marathon
2. Who did you meet this year that inspired you? I didn’t actually meet anyone irl who inspired me, but I read about James Lawrence who completed 50 triathlon events in 50 days in 50 states in America and I was floored. Also John Beeden, who at age 53, recently completed a solo row across the Pacific Ocean from California to Cairns made me think that people are awesome.
3. What did you read that you think bettered you? A lot of feminist writings and sad realities about the challenges that women face around the world.
4. What are songs that you will always hear and think of this year even when you’re listening on some contraption that hasn’t even been invented yet? Hello -Adele, How Deep is Your Love – Calvin Harris, What Do You Mean – Justin Bieber (I know…it was just in every single running mix I played…), Lean on -Major Lazer (also in EVERY SINGLE running mix I downloaded)
5. What were some times that you laughed so hard you could barely breathe? Lots of times at work when our Romanian receptionist was just so funny (I’ve started a post-it collection of her classic lines.)
6. What were your favorite movies? Not what was good, not what you had to see because of your friends or the media. What were your favorites?Hmm..well, I really enjoyed The Intern and I thought The Martian was well done. I didn’t really see a lot of movies I really liked this year, but in terms of tv shows…Outlander gets my No.1 series watched award followed by Man in the High Castle in 2nd place. I’ll also give a shout out to The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (released in 2013, but I didn’t watch it until this year) as a quirky, endearing movie I really enjoyed.
7. What are some fears that you had at the beginning of the year that you overcame? Not being able to finish the marathon & not making it through a work trip I was loathing going on in November. I luckily made it through both things.
8. What were quotes that you loved this year?

It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, or who had ever been alive -James Baldwin

Love is forgiveness. And it’s atonement. And it’s basically like putting your soul in a washing machine-it’s not some gentle cycle, it’s a fierce whipping that rings you out good –  Hannah Brencher

Basically anything on Wordporn or berlin artparasites (two of the very few pages I have liked on FB)
9. What are ways that you exercised self care? Ummm..I bought some hair balm after the lady at Supercuts told me I had dry hair (because she was trying to sell me $20 product, and I was like, ‘I just paid you $20 for my haircut, what more do you want?’ but then I felt bad for my hair…) and a bought a sonic toothbrush.
10. What are things you want to see more of next year? Rope, Benedict Cumberbatch, good cheesecake.
11. What are five things you did that you never thought you’d actually do? Finish training for my marathon (generally felt much harder than the marathon itself), finish my marathon, put my books on the kindle store, get though the year without killing anyone I work with, put on so much weight (not something I’m happy about but it feels like an achievement o do that *while* also training for a marathon…)
12. What were your favorite things this year? Tomb Raider, my Microsoft mobile phone (I wanted to hate it, but I love it), getting to travel proper business class (first time!) to Sydney for work, my kindle, my stretchy jeans, kiwi fruit, the xmas tree I bought and decorated for the office, M’s xmas pudding.
13. What are the most important things you learned this year? Food can be your friend. Lube is your friend when running long distances.
14. What is your favorite photo from this year?


This koala was just sitting in the tree like a boss.
15. What are five things you want to say to people you love?

  • Ask if you need help
  • Even if I don’t tell you I love you, I do
  • The reason I don’t call is not because I’m not thinking about you, I just really hate phones
  • Call me!
  • Text me!

16. What are some places where you feel true joy in your life? In my bed.
17. Where do you feel most yourself? Alone, at home.
18. What were your favorite meals? So many good ones. M does spoil me. I definitely enjoyed my food at home more than any of the meals I had out. Except maybe the kebabs we get from that kebab shop. They are pretty damn good.
19. How did you calm yourself in times of stress? Chocolate and more chocolate
20. What are some compliments that you received that deeply affected you? Mostly comments left on this blog and things about my writing.
21. Who are people that you believe are bringing out the best in you? M
22. What items of clothing did you buy that felt the most you?


This cardigan is so comfy and it covers my large bottom perfectly.
23. What are you excited about leaving behind in 2015? Reckless eating habits.
24. What are five things that you were hard on yourself about but would never have been hard on a friend if they were experiencing it? Putting on weight, not doing things perfectly, making mistakes, not being sociable enough, wasting money
25. What are the best pieces of advice you heard this year? “When faced with a crisis, immediately do nothing.”
26. What are the best pieces of advice you gave this year? “Your 8 year old has years ahead of her to angst about her weight and body. Let her have her childhood to enjoy.” “Your child will have lots of friends in her life, but only one mother. Be a mother, not a friend.”
27. What things have you been putting off doing because you didn’t have time? Cleaning out my closet, starting my next book.
28. What are some things you’d like to focus and work on in the next year? Clean eating, finding an exercise I like, getting out more, travel, having more kink in my life, writing
29. What are the best parts of you that you feel really showed through this year? Will-power, inner-strength, self-discipline
30. What are your biggest hopes for 2016? I hope I can find a goal early on and work towards it.

Thanks Buzzfeed for the questions. Happy New 2016


I have a lot of things to say about the new Star Wars movie, but instead of being a douche and putting spoilers on the main blog, I’ve hidden it away here so at least you can choose if you want to go read it.(It’s a fairly amusing review, but if your reaction to Star Wars is Star what? you’re probably not going to appreciate it. Also…major spoilers there, so stay away if you haven’t seen it yet.)

I received a comment on one of my last blogs that I answered and it turned into a massive purge that wouldn’t fit into the space of a comment reply box, so here it is as a post for your reading pleasure.

There were two parts of the comment that I particularly latched onto:

 …i feel like you’ve got so much ability and it’s like your stunting your own growth…

…while you where having your rummspringa (!) i was cheering you on! it felt like you cut yourself down before you got what you wanted – i feel like M isnt on a path of growth and eventually it will niggle away between you to and you will live being unsatisfied. Locking yourself down out of fear isnt going to make you happy…

Self-worth and self-confidence are two areas that I know I have issues in.

On a side note, we’ve got a HR guy in my office who is on a personality-test kick at the moment. You know those online things that you normally do when you’re going for a job interview and they want to see what makes you tick? He is getting everyone in the office to do them because he thinks it will help us understand ourselves more. I kind of laughed in his face when he suggested that I do one and he has been very icy to me since! If he only knew that I’ve been doing my own never-ending personality test for the past ten years here on this blog and there isn’t anything a generic online quiz could possibly tell me about myself that I don’t already know. I think that’s why I kind of went, ‘Pffffffft!’ in his face and walked off.

I guess what I’m rambling on about is the fact that I’m quite aware of what is wrong with me, but I don’t know how to make it right. It’s not as simple as telling myself that I should value/trust/believe in myself more and then having things magically become better.

And the other thing that is holding me back from addresses these ‘faults’ of mine is that I wonder whether they actually are faults. Aren’t all the bits that are rough around the edges and not so perfect what make me, me? I’ve spent most of my life trying to make up for/cover my faults and there’s a part of me now that kind of wants to embrace them.

Accept, embrace and don’t look back, isn’t that what they say?

During my rumspringa, the main thing that I was trying to do was seeing if I could have more. I felt like I didn’t have enough in my life- that there were things lacking and I wanted to see if I could build on what I already had. What happened was I lost a lot of what I started with and what I gained didn’t make up for what I lost. I think perhaps I need to accept that enough really can be enough and trying to gorge yourself on life isn’t necessarily the best thing. From this perspective, I did get what I wanted on my rumspinga because what I wanted was to know.

Was I also trying to find internal happiness, externally? Probably.

There is some craziness from that period in my life that I miss from that time. I also probably sometimes miss being out of my comfort zone (because I’ve got an endurance kink and all that), but at the same time I had a lot of dire thoughts going through my mind about dying alone and not finding anyone who understood and accepted me. That last bit is hard and is the most important thing to me at this stage of my life.

So, I’ll finish up by saying that the points you’ve raised are all things I’ve already been thinking about. Growth and goals are important to me and M and I are quite different people when it comes to this personality-wise (there is also the age gap thing…a nineteen year gap makes things extremely hard sometimes). We tend to deal with this difference by living in denial but you’re right, it will continue to niggle away at me until I reach a point. I have some plans for the new year that involve having a frank discussion about stuff, which we haven’t really done since we got back together. He had needs and I have needs and they both need to be addressed.

Your comment made me think about things again, so thank you. The only time you ever have to fear is when people stop thinking.



I had a thing pop up on my Facebook feed yesterday that was a bit of a rant about transgender women. Essentially it said something along the lines of ‘even if she doesn’t look like a woman and her genitalia is male, a trans woman is still a woman’.

I understand very well what the poster of the rant was trying to say, but I was thinking that if a transgender woman doesn’t physically look like a woman or adopt any of the exterior trappings of a woman, how do they identify with being a woman on the inside? Do they start taking an unnatural interest in romantic comedies staring Anne Hathaway, long walks on the beach or the thread count of Egyptian cotton sheets? If you cut away all the socially accepted bullshit that ‘women like x’ or ‘women don’t do y’ (because there are ALWAYS exceptions to those things,) what makes a woman, a woman other than what she looks like?

My friend google, gave me the following definition:

Transgender, unlike transsexual, is a term for people whose identity, expression, behavior, or general sense of self does not conform to what is usually associated with the sex they were born in the place they were born. It is often said sex is a matter of the body, while gender occurs in the mind.

By that definition, my lack of interest in children, my love of gaming and nerdy stuff and my role as breadwinner and provider in my relationship makes me transgender. I don’t feel the need to identify as a man though, so where does that leave me? As a woman, because that’s what I look like.

I understand the trauma of never feeling comfortable in your skin and wanting to be something/someone else more than anything in the world. The pain of never being able to reconcile those feelings fully must be enormous, but I don’t think that a good way to deal with that is by taking on all the socially accepted crap that defines gender just to put a label on yourself. You shouldn’t have to wear pink fluffy slippers and fill your house with candles because you don’t feel like a ‘man’.

One of my transsexual friends who is post-op, does not like wearing dresses. Yet, for whatever reason, she gets heckled for not wearing one, as though if she’s not wearing a dress, she’s not a real woman. I don’t remember the last time I wore a dress, but I don’t get heckled for it. I do get a lot of disapproving comments and reactions about my disinterest- bordering-on-hate of babies and children though (because I must be a monster if I’m a woman with a fully functioning oven and don’t want to put a bun in it.)

I have a few transgender and transsexual people around me and I’m sure they would say that I’m not qualified to comment on this issue at all, but I’m going to drop the bomb anyway…I don’t really think transgender is a thing and by making it a thing, it is just perpetuating the myth of gender: the idea that everyone has to go into one bucket or the other and you can only do things/think things/like things that are in your bucket. It’s nearly 2016-I think it’s time we got away from the two bucket system and gender entirely.

So back to the original rant on Facebook, what I would have liked it to say is this:

“A man can do, say, feel whatever the fuck he wants to and if a man wants to take a dip in the ‘woman’s’ bucket, that’s fine. Actually, you know what? Just take a whole fucking bath in that other bucket, if that’s what you want. Or better yet, let’s just tip the whole fucking contents of the two buckets out on the ground and let’s wallow in it like pigs in the sun. If you feel like the body parts you were born with don’t suit, fine, feel free to change that shit, but don’t ever feel like you need to wear something or think something or be something because you are woman or a man. Okay?”

A dominant decides, a submissive complies

When he yells, “Bring me a coffee, bitch!” does she barely bat an eyelid and bring him a coffee with a heaped teaspoon of coffee, the required level of milk (poured in before the hot water) and an appropriate snack?

Then she’s probably a submissive.

When he yells, “Boots and collar, my bed, now!” does she go find her boots, put them on (even though they stick to her legs with sweat -it’s the middle of summer ffs!), strip, arrange herself appropriately on his bed and doesn’t mutter a word of complaint when his fingernails are just a little too long to be comfortable in her twat?

Then she’s probably a submissive.

When he tells her lies about how he cleaned the stove properly, why he left the dirty water in the sink to congeal for the fifty millionth time and why he ate all her scones and she takes it all in her stride?

Then she’s probably a submissive.

When he tells her he doesn’t beat her ass as much as he really wants to because he loves her and therefore treats her like a princess and she accepts that as a legitimate response?

Then she’s probably a submissive.

When he pulls her slightly overgrown twat hairs and twists her nipple so hard it cracks and bleeds and she does nothing but say, ‘Fuuuuuuuk!’?

Then she’s probably a submissive.

I could go on of course, but I think you get the idea.

I’ve thought a lot about what makes a person submissive and written more posts about it than anything else. I’ve wavered between whether I’m a submissive or slave or whatever and I’ve kind of come to the conclusion that I’m never going to have a satisfactory answer to that question because I’m never really satisfied with anything to do with myself (true story…and kind of sad but that’s how I roll.)

Essentially to be submissive, you just have to be a giving person. You put someone else’s needs and wishes above your own and you go along with what they say and want you to do. I don’t think it really gets any more complicated than that.

A dominant decides, a submissive complies.

(and yes, I’m rather proud of that little rhyme…)

Our world functions because there are a few people who tell everyone else what to do and for the most part, the others do what they are told. Nothing would ever get done if there weren’t people giving and taking and in life, as in the bedroom, both people can’t be barking orders at the same time. There is a wide spectrum of dominant/submissive behaviour and those of us who dabble in D/s relationships are probably more on the opposite ends of the spectrum.

I don’t like telling other people what to do. It feels to me like a lot of responsibility – what if my decision was wrong, what if something bad happens as a result of it? If it’s someone else’s decision and it goes pear-shaped, I then have license to mock the decision (and the person who made it) mercilessly. Happy times.

I particularly don’t like asking people to do things for me. It feels selfish and I feel like I’m giving them a burden but more than anything it’s also because I don’t trust anyone to do anything.

As a submissive, I think you have to be comfortable about letting go. Letting go of control, stepping out of your comfort zone and turning off those anxious voices inside that direct you towards flight and fear.

After ten years I’m still working on all of those things.

any other man



Pain revisited

I have a lovely friend, tavia, who I met through this blog. We exchange emails about life and relationships and she has always been very supportive about my choices and my writing. Recently, she did me the honour of downloading my books and I received a squee-inducing email from her this morning saying how much she is enjoying revisiting the story and how juicy the pain scenes are (thank you, tavia, not only for the email, but for the blog topic!)

Pain and I have an interesting relationship. I enjoy reading and writing about pain or painful experiences quite a lot (as long as there are no needles…or pointy things…I was watching The Martian last night and that scene with the antenna…phew…I couldn’t cope…lol.)

I’ve mentioned before that I always try and internalise pain. I don’t make a lot of noise, but you’ll see the crease between my eyebrows:


then the focus to push everything down (and the smile generally disappears):


but then there are the times when stuff is just too ouchie and it comes out (and I’m usually annoyed with myself when that happens):


I’ve never self-harmed or gone out of my way to seek it out, but it is something that I’ve always considered part of any M/s relationship I’ve been involved in. Along with restrictions (movement, choices, access to food/money/time etc.,) it is one of the basic mechanisms that you can use to control someone. Unfortunately, pain, for me, loses some of its appeal if it’s simply pain for pain’s sake. Giving me a beating ‘because I’m a slave’ doesn’t really gel. I process things a lot better if there is a purpose.

Pain for punishment, I get. Pain because slave, I don’t.

Personally, I really don’t see how either person can get something out of a beating if there is no purpose. It’s not really something you can do to simply pass the time between seasons of Game of Thrones.

M will sometimes say to me, ‘I’m going to beat your ass today’ and being the bad slave I am, I ask, ‘Why?’ His standard answer is, ‘because you’re a slave.’ And my response to that is generally to make him a batch of scones to distract his thoughts from my ass and to the delectable cranberry-filled delights in front of him (true story today…hehehe.)

I’m big on motivations. I really, really like to know why people do things and what makes them tick. After ten years, a break-up, a reunion, a switcheroo of roles and enough discussions/fights/arguments between us that my eye twitches merely at the thought of the time I’ve spent giving him the silent treatment (I can be sooo childish…), M still confuses the fuck out of me. To me, ‘because you’re a slave’ isn’t a motivation. I want to know why he wants to do it, and if he doesn’t really want to do it, just don’t, okay? Just don’t even mention it, okay? because it just messes with my head.

Of course, that’s probably why he does it to begin with.

Xmas nom noms

M and I had a quiet Christmas. We finally finished playing Portal 2 (can I get a hallelujah?) and then sat down to a scrummy Christmas lunch Australian style (a.k.a cold everything and usually involves beetroot.)

There was pork with crunchy crackling:


Which joined some chicken and salad (that’s german potato salad and coleslaw in front – next to the baby beetroot):


Then it was topped off with M’s homemade plum pudding which was served with custard and ice-cream (12hrs of steaming and lots of love in this baby):


Tomorrow (Boxing day) we’ll hit the shops early and try to find some clearance xmas stuff at the supermarket. I’m hoping for a drastically marked down pavlova and maybe another ham. We bought a ham about two weeks ago and steadily ate it little by little until two days before Christmas there was nothing left of it but this bone:


Incidentally, one of my favourite Christmas activities is to stand over the ham in the kitchen with a knife and just carve off pieces and shove them into my mouth like an animal. Good times.

This is my ham bag that I purchased at the post-Christmas sales last year for 50c. Bargain! And while ‘ham bag’ may sound slightly kinky, it’s just a calico bag that you soak in vinegar water and keep your ham in. bag

We’ll probably also make our way to the new Star Wars movie sometime tomorrow or Sunday. I’m hearing good things about it so it feels like it’s time to watch it so I can join in on the collective gushing/whining that is happening all over the interwebs.

I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season.


If you are the one

I should probably confess a secret little obsession that M and I share..

We can’t get enough of a Chinese dating show. Strange as it might sound, six nights a week, M and I sit down to dinner over an hour-long episode of If you are the one and laugh and cringe and look at each other with wtf?! clearly written over our faces.

Fei Cheng Wu Rao apparently translates literally to, “If you’re not sincere, leave me alone” or something to that effect, but I personally think the English title, If you are the one is more catchy (even if the original name carries hints of the true brutality of the show.)

In the show twenty four women face off against 4-6 male candidates over the course of one hour and the men try and impress with a few videos, general chit-chat and usually a bad karaoke performance or some other ‘talent show’ e.g dancing, cooking, spinning nunchuck’s to the tune of Gangnam Style etc.

love tea

The friend’s video section, or as M and I like to say, the section where your friends fuck you over, is usually where candidates receive most of their rejections. Sometimes the comments are funny, harsh or a little too truthful:


The show is broadcast on Australian channel SBS, which is a semi-government-funded commercial channel and has English subtitles (which I have a feeling are not always the best.)

While some of the special women on the show are interesting:



the unique men are also interesting:


We also find the reasons for rejection are often brutal and hilarious:


The show is also a bit of a window into modern Chinese culture. The emphasis on family accepting the prospective partner and the common question, ‘Will you live with my parents?’ to a ‘western’ ear are particularly unusual. My experience in Japan gave me a little insight into filial piety, but I have to say that most Japanese are not nearly as concerned about their family as most Chinese on this show seem to be.


While Japanese people can be equally brutal about your appearance and comments like, ‘You’re fat!’, ‘Your nose is big!’ or ‘You smell like a foreigner!’ are pretty normal, some of the observations of the Chinese ladies are much more imaginative:

‘You look like a noodle.’

‘Your head looks like a carrot.’

‘You look squeezable.’


And the men can be as equally as imaginative too:


M and I are now such seasoned viewers that we pretty much know within the first minute or so whether a guy is going to go home with a date. Sometimes it’s the guy’s appearance that makes the girls turn off their light, sometimes it’s his poor Gangnam style dance as he comes out or sometimes it’s because he spends the whole time talking about how his previous girlfriend used to hit him hard and now he wants a girl who will only hit him a ‘little bit’.

I spend a fair bit of the show trying to read the Chinese characters and getting a hint of what they are talking about and I’ll pick up a few words of Mandarin here and there that I know or that sound similar to the Japanese words. M meanwhile, spends his viewing time checking the footwear and will exclaim with excitement if there is a girl wearing boots (‘Boots!!! Thigh-high, black, number 22!!’) and he always loves commenting that the Chinese songs are ‘weird’ and have ‘weird lyrics’. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t looked at the lyrics of some of the songs that ‘western’ culture has produced lately:

“And I make that pussy tap out, I knock that pussy out cold
Nigga you get beat the crap out but that’s just how the dice roll
These hoes want that hose pipe, so I give all these hoes pipe
She get on that dick and stay on, all night like porch lights.”

(Thank you for that poetic genius Lil’ Wayne.)

Anyway, if you don’t have the show on tv here are plenty of clips on Youtube for you to watch and discover the quirky goodness that is If you are the one (if you are the one who hasn’t already.)

Putting the ‘fun’ into dysfunctional

The company I work for is a bit weird. We’re kind of like a family where the kids are good (albeit a bit twisted) but the parents suck. The type of sucky parents that forget your birthday, display a picture of a Christmas tree instead of putting up a real tree and who you only talk to when you need something.

I’m reminded of this fact every Christmas and this year is particularly dreary because we’re not even having a half-assed Christmas party (that nobody really wants to attend) due to various reasons. I’m usually the one who organizes the Christmas party that the sucky parents rock up to (always late) and then bitch about afterwards, but instead I took it upon myself to purchase a Christmas tree for the office and put up some decorations so at least we look like we’re trying to be festive.

It’s interesting how apathy/disinterest filters down from the top and taints the culture of an entire office. This is an office of fifteen people who don’t do anything together but share the same air for 8-10 hours a day. We might exchange a half-assed “How was your weekend?” every other week and eat cake on someone’s birthday (that I always have to arrange) but having a drink together after work on a Friday is a monumental occasion that happens maybe 2-3 times a year and we don’t socialise in any way shape or form other than that.

I hear about other offices where the boss buys people Christmas presents or takes an interest in their life, where people will have a pot-luck party for someone’s birthday or will have a secret Santa and I’m a bit jealous. I wonder if that type of thing is the norm for companies or whether what I have is the norm and those fun places that seem to value their staff and treat them as something more than a number, are few and far between.

I’m generally the person who needs to have social things organised for them and then be cajoled and mollycoddled until I attend. The anti-social in me will immediately want to say no to any form of social activity, but if I get dragged along without an out and with no way to make excuses, I will generally enjoy myself. I guess that type of person is exhausting afer a while and that’s why I generally will get an invitation, or maybe two if I’m lucky, but then the invitations will stop coming because I’m just too much work.

I don’t feel like I’m among kindred spirits in the office and that’s why we don’t do anything together, I just feel like there is a general ‘why bother?’ attitude that comes from the top and seems to permeate everything underneath. There’s an ooze of apathy, a stink of listlessness and a smattering of disregard. Is there any point trying to do anything different when you’re being showered with indifference?


Mansplaining, manspreading, manterrupting – there are plenty of words flying around to describe asshole behaviour, but I don’t think the behaviour itself is restricted to menfolk. There are plenty of asshole things that women tend to do ‘exclusively’ too; bitching, squealing, nagging – the only difference being that there isn’t a prefix denoting women on the words. All three of those words have very feminine connotations though, and you don’t say that a man is bitching unless you want to denegrate him.

For a while now I’ve been thinking about men, women and that weird thing we call gender. I think what started my thought process was when I was training for my marathon and it really started to annoy me that there were places and times that I couldn’t run because I was conscious of my safety. Not that I’m saying I’m hot enough for someone to want to attack me, but just that my safety is a thing that runs through my mind as a woman and it angers me.

I saw an article a while back (granted it may have been on buzzfeed so not sure how reliable it is) where they asked a group of men and a group of women to brainstorm things that they could do to maximise their safety. The group of women filled a whiteboard with ideas and the men couldn’t think of anything. It feels pretty believable. Granted I am a fairly anxious person to begin with, but I think about my safety all the time because I’m a woman and I have to take care of myself. When I think about it, the fact that I have to be anxious about stuff simply because I’m a woman angers me.

Do men expend extra energy thinking about their safety? Do they make conscious decisions to cross streets when a group of men is coming towards them? Do they alter jogging paths so that they pass through well-lit areas or residential streets where there are houses and other people? I doubt it.

I see the USA is now allowing women into front-line combat roles. It’s nice to see that they aren’t so hung up anymore about a woman’s main role being that of a breeder to carry on the human race. I’d imagine that any women who do take up those roles, however,  will need to blend seemlessly into the ‘boys club’ by being as masculine as they can be.

I would be nice for these women to just be soldiers instead of ‘women trying to do a man’s job’ and for me to just be able to be a person going about my daily business without needing to worry about what is ‘appropriate’ for a women. Maybe I do like dressing up in skirts and wearing nice jewellery, but that’s not because I’m a woman, it’s because of what I like. I also know quite a few men who enjoy wearing skirts and jewellery as equally as I do.

It’s all a really weird construct – that you should do or not do certain things, or be better or worse at certain things because of your sex. Granted there is generally some difference in physical strength and speed and whatnot, but not all men are athletes and not all women are care-givers.

It’s weird that we try and fit ourselves into sometimes impossible boxes simply based on what society tells us we should do or should feel.

It would be nice if we just respected each other enough as members of the human race to not ridicule or rape, bully or hit, mansplain or bitch about each other.

War wounds

This would normally be the post I would make after I attended a play party and I have some fantastic bruises to show off to the world, except there was no party and there was no play. And I’m kind of okay with that and kind of not.

The last time we played was the Halloween party we attended. I had a fantastically lumpy ass and the bruises lasted a good ten days. I took photos from various flattering angles and played with them in photoshop until they told the story that I wanted them to tell.

The story I didn’t want the photos to tell was the fact that I felt absolutely nothing during the beating except pain. There wasn’t any sense of achievement or submission, nothing that made me feel like I was answering my calling or doing something that fulfilled me.

Then after the beating, M attached a leash to my pussy rings and wandered around the room have a chat or two with various people while I stood there naked and awkward and I didn’t really feel anything except that extreme social awkwardness I always feel when I have to talk to people I don’t feel 100% comfortable with (I’d feel exactly the same way if I was clothed and in a place that screamed a little less dungeon play party and a little more casual Sunday brunch.)

The only thing I really seem to get out of a beating is some good photos. I wait for that first comment and get a few loves on Fet and suddenly I feel validated or something. The feeling doesn’t last very long though and I wonder why I’m doing it.

This time I haven’t got any photos or war wounds to sing songs about.

Maybe next time.


Ranting woman walking

Do you know what happens if you run a marathon in August then don’t run a step for three months and then try and run one hundred metres?

You fucking die. That’s what happens.

Finding that out made me as depressed as the last time I ordered a slice of NY cheesecake and got a piece of some shitty, gelatine-set monstrosity (approximately three weeks ago at a waterfront pub in East Perth that shall remain nameless.)

I farewelled the last of my Japanese clients for the year on Thursday and so I’m a free woman (free from the bane of having to be sociable, that is) until the middle of January! Yay for me!

Unfortunately my joy was short-lived because I came down with a heavy attack of the monthly plague on Friday and so M and I won’t be able to attend the last play party of the year tonight where I was supposed to get another spectacularly bruised botty.

I’ve been on a 10,000 steps a day kick for a couple of weeks now so I’m wearing my fitbit again and I’m slowly making my way through the C25k programme again. That programme is always my fall-back when I need some type of scheduled exercise so I religiously keep it on my podcast play list.

I’d like to wear my marathon finisher t-shirt every now and then on my walk/jogs, but somehow I think being overtaken by another person walking faster than I am running while wearing said t-shirt could be a bit humiliating.

I’ve been a bit ranty at M lately -mostly about housework and spending money (the usual suspects). I get that way sometimes when I don’t have anything to amuse/distract myself with and particularly now that my story baby has been born and I’ve completed Rise of the Tomb Raider (100% completion thank you very much!) I spend a lot of time just work->home->sleep->repeating and I get very ranty. I’ll probably need to get myself a big-ass Lego kit before the Xmas holidays or it could be a very testing time for the both of us.

M has been talking to his brother a bit recently because his brother has had a fall out with his partner of over 20 years and it looks like they might be splitting up. I’ve found it interesting listening to his relationship advice to his brother. It certainly sounds like he understands well how not to be a dick in a relationship judging by what he is saying, but I wonder whether he thinks he is that ‘model partner’ that he is describing to his brother.

M’s father was a bit messed up and I understand very well the legacy of having a messed up father, but if you can eloquently describe how to be emotionally aware and have a mutually respectful relationship, you should be able to put most of that into practise, shouldn’t you?

I know I’m not a pretty emotional picture either, but other than getting ranty about things I really shouldn’t have to get ranty about, I’m fairly chill and easy to live with (and that description comes from the man himself!) Anyway, I should stop ranting before this turns into nothing but a rant-fest.

So, I’m thinking about my next writing project now and have had some thoughts about something Japan-orientated and possibly anecdotal. How does that sound?

And don’t forget if you’re looking for some holiday smut reading, my erotic bdsm mystery with Master-Mistress themes that will also scratch your interrogation-porn itch (you don’t want to know how long I had to think about what literary category Desiderata fits in) is downloadable on the Amazon store here.






The Deed

So I did that thing…that thing I talked about for a very long time, but took my sweet-ass time to actually do…that one.

Yes, I put my books on the kindle store.


Since March of this year, I’ve been editing, rewriting, swapping, adding and generally farting around with my story and then I finally came to a point where I thought that I’ve just got to let it go and so on the weekend I did, I sent it to the great kindle bookstore on the innernets.

The aftermath of eight months of printing, reading and fiddling looks like this:


So. much.paper.

I’m not expecting to give up my day job any time soon as my subject matter is for a rather niche market (probably 10 people) and they’re only $2.99 each (bargain!) and even though my day job is in marketing, I’m not really experienced in self-publishing nor the world of kindle erotica (of which there are something like a hundred thousand books listed there) but writing it has been an excellent lesson in self-discipline and extreme hyphen angst (does ‘strap-on’ really need a hyphen or not?)

So, if you’re in the mood for some holiday reading feel free to head on over or if you read my story previously and enjoyed it, why not leave me a review? You can search for Desiderata or here’s a handy link to Book 1

In answer to a couple of questions I’m sure are on the lips of most people reading this: the basic story is still the same but it has been extensively rewritten and added to (hopefully for the better) and no, you don’t have to have a kindle to read things from the kindle store. An iphone, ipad, several types of tablets or even your computer will apparently do (but I think the formatting works best on a kindle from what I’ve seen.)

Happy holiday reading!