All tomorrow's parties

And, he replied in kind and was patient.

"Thanks for sharing.

You will get instructions by tomorrow evening (as you certainly imagined reading my last mail). They should appease your anxieties.

>>I truly hope you can help make me become the best sub that I can be.<<

My principal plan for the weekend. Hence the title of last mail.

Have no fear, really. I am trustworthy as a human being and well intentioned. It is only words so far because it is what I can offer. I hold that standing behind one's words is the basis of it all.

I do expect that you stand behind those quoted too."

And while I was still freaking out and getting deeper into my insecurities. He thought I was lighter and sent this:

Subject: Be careful what you wish for, litte lola, you might very well get it...
"Don't worry, you'll get spastic soon enough.
Tomorrow evening starting substantially so, I predict."




And it sent me to the corners of my imagination where the toychest is layered with blood and guts and sin is screaming all around me with firey clowns laughing with hyennas and birds ready to pluck my eyes out. This was not funny to me, to say the least.

Me: um, that just terrifies me.
Him: lil'lola needed some thrills...
Me: I stand behind every quoted word.
I know... I know... I know you're not a mass murderer.

But um a rollercoaster ride of thrilldom over a terrified girlie with a (scary!!!) bat and (even more scarier!!!) mask guy!..... oh god, you DO want to chase me around your apartment with knives and masks and num chucks!!!! fuckkkkkkkkk

;)

oh god i'm on such a fucking up and down and around ride right now.

trust me. I am only interested in being the best I can be. And I doubt that, once you meet me you'll think I'm too incompetent..... words.... for me, more powerful than spoken letters chained together with breath. Images? Can be more thrilling than me, .... on the balcony, crouched, thinking I might explode like a star with all the pent-up tension I'm having right now.
Him: Good.
You mentioned feeling too rational, almost outside of it, disconnected..

I simply took care of that.

I'll take good care of you, little girl. Mark my words.
Me: Um.... last week I felt infatuated --- granted, I understand the initial swooning syndrome and recognize the time/place for that ---- but um, scaring me into feardom of being chased with knives and num chucks and bats and masks = connected, but still scared. Are you going to beat me to a pulp? Are you such a sadist that if I'm a sensitive Nelly you will give up and be bored? Will you be burning candles with goats as sacrifices and total anger that you'll hate me and make me suck out the scum of the gutter in public? Are you going to hurt me and forget to cuddle me? Are you going to not touch me and only caress me with latex gloves?

>>I'll take good care of you, little girl. Mark my words.<<

I just dont' know what that means.... but I have a better understanding of what sadism is.
Me (45 minutes later): Yes. Good call. Don't reply. I'm being silly in a bad way. I know it will all be good.

Off to bed.

Nigh nigh
Lo.
Him (in the morning): Yeah, it is evident you were having a little attention fit (amongst other things), a bit like you had ten days ago but shaping somewhat differently.

I am ok with it since I know you have been out of things for long... the cravings and images that seize can be so strong then, that they sometimes appear at odds with reality (especially when you get disconnected a bit like you just did). And I know you don't know me yet in co-presence so I can take 2 mins to restate the obvious: Just trust your instincts. If you are coming tomorrow, it is not only because you are a needy slut but also because I did catch your mind and inspire enough trust to do so.

I know that being overbusy this week, and hence minimal in exchanges was going to provoke a bit of unrest. As long as you keep a fundamentally consequent and constructive attitude, it is ok at this stage. And it is not a problem, for it will dissolve altogether in due time. You can bet on that one.

What you can forget about though, are the "don'ts", the "do's" and the imperative mode altogether.

A good day in the spinning wheel, lil mouse.


##############

I woke up late. My head was pounding a bit for the first time in a long time. Ben G was in town and we went to dinner and then out for drinks. We laughed and laughed. I felt ashamed for my wild drunk dialing and uncontrolled randomness. All I could think to email to Mr. FD was "I'm sorry. Thank you."

And what I got back, hours later, just in time, were instructions. In PDF format (swoon) with bold titles from a "Cornerstone" to "Aftermath" (triple swoon).

It's truly amazing how the mind works. Seventeen million thoughts can zoom about like fruit flies around a sticky, moist, fresh-from-the-oven vanilla cake. Not a single one stays for long but each gets the time for feeding and annoyance.

I got the instructions. Read them twice. Started my reply in an email. My plan - expressed to Mr. FD previously for planning purposes - was to head down to the school's printer in the afternoon, pick up a reader for a course (and the 2 for the professors as I'm course delegate), walk to school, drop them off, print the instructions (for train reading and memorizing), walk home, pack, and prepare. Thought of replying to the email. Drafted the reply. Needed to make sure I knew what I was doing and was doing it correctly. Needed to get to school and would walk there to let the ideas sink in.

Almost ran to school I was so happy. Thinking thinking thinking about the "Concrete principles," "First steps" (meet, have some time over a drink, his apartment door is the "threshold" to the new world for the weekend), "House rules" (including 4 positions which I have now memorized and practiced in order and at random), the "Aftermath" (written digest of experience and other details if we choose to continue things), and the "Procedure" (for my response to the instructions). God, I love organization.

I picked up the readers - despite the greve - and dropped them off at school. I opened the email. Re-read it two more times, printed two copies, sent my reply: "I have received, understand, and agree of/to the instructions. Thank you very much." And got kicked out - something about closing at 5pm in case of student revolt due to the greve. Flew down Rue de Seine, captured some images, found my way down the steps to the Seine, spotted the most perfect tree at its edge, leaned back, turned up the Thru You, and re-read the instructions.

Got home, packed, cancelled my dinner date with Ben G, spent an hour in the bathroom shaving -- everything, which is harder than you think when your butt cheeks touch and you've only got a small hand-held mirror.

Him: So, a bit more connected tonight, impatient lil'girl? My guess would be yes.

#######################

It's so unusual. Lately, I've been drinking like Dorothy Parker has invaded my body. But tonight, I am just not interested. I am a nervous wreck for tomorrow, but my head is screwed on well. I have wanted to throw-up about twenty times today, but I have just breathed deeply.

There are many times in my life that I've felt that everything I'd done up until then had led to me a perfect point in time. I feel that again tonight. Hearing "Whole Wide World" by Wreckless Eric back in Madison and feeling like something would happen in grad school. Stepping into Paris for the first time and knowing I had to be here. All this freaking out in the past months. All the longing. All the misplaced aggression and seeking and seeking. I'm realistic enough to know that Mr. FD is not Jesus or Buddha or Daddy Warbucks. I know I'm dancing in a frenzy of aspiration that is incomplete. But for now, for these moments, it all just feels right again. Like, this is where I'm supposed to be. This is what I'm supposed to be doing. This is who I am destined to fulfill.

My boots are polished. The last clean-up will be in the morning (armpits and a once-over on the cunnie). The backpack is busting out with all my dreams. Apples for the train ride. Camera batteries charged. Head reeling and spinning and centered. Spirit of fireworks and calm.

My god it feels so good to live.

Thank you thank you thank you.