Vacationing

Yes, friends, well it is over. I emailed my last paper, memo, and documents for the final project. And a day early, thank you. This does not speak to the caliber of work because it sucked and it was sent intentionally as crap. Be done! Move on! Senioritis!

And now, there's a sort of confusion. Mr FD put it so nicely as "postpartum" and I'd have to agree. In a way it was giving birth. So, my final project comrades and I had lovely flutes of champagne and talked about how odd we feel now that it's done. What do we do? One has a job already so she's set. The other has called in reinforcements and her NYC pally will come to town. The other has a partner and they will make flight plans to return to South America. And me?

Well, I have been invited to go south to Toulouse to hang out with pdh and his lovely lady M. I thought about saying no so I could just simply veg out in Paris, wander, readjust, etc. But it's better I go. See them. Get out. Move my brain in other places. Staying here and I might have felt trapped in the 2-year rut of sitting at my antique table with laptop, typing typing something, and not seeing much of summer sun. So, instead I'll go to Toulouse and laugh with them, talk, drink, and who knows what else. Then, they'll so generously throw me in the back of a car and drive me to Barcelona with them. I've always loved car rides, train rides, bus rides, motorcycle rides, bike rides, traveling over the landscape with my eyes, and the rhythm of the road. We'll have a whirlwind together as they wind down their trip and I start mine. Short visit in Barcelona and I'm off to Switzerland again. This time, for a 10-12 day homestay with Mr FD.

I realize I'm overdue in posting an overview of actions and thoughts from April's homestay, but I'm not sure yet how to share those. May was a different story. I think it was, from the outset, very different than what we would have imagined. Mr FD was sick, I was stressed out, and the weekend was different contextually than what I had envisioned (whenever I envision ... and don't let my mind race too far off). I think we had some really deep progression. As cheesy as it sounds, Mr FD decided that I would/could/should be his submissive and we talked at length about what that would/could/should mean. The end of the weekend went a bit off into a strange place and we're still talking about what happened, acknowledging it, figuring it out, and man, I can't wait to just move beyond it now. But, I do know that we have some more to discuss.

It must really suck being a dominant. I mean, as a submissive, basically, my biggest job is to obey, serve, and try my hardest to be the best sub I can be. (Which, evidenced by my rate of incurring punishments says something. I am trying, trust me. But there's a LOT to learn and, remember, I come from a testy, fuck-you, punk rock, skater girl background. I have a will that wishes to be tamed, but nonetheless it bucks a bit.) But dominants, well, they've got to remain steady and reliable, trust-worthy, capable, sometimes what our dads weren't or sometimes what our dads were, sometimes what our lovers were or weren't, in control, monitoring, keeping it together, etc. Often there's not much room to be human or real or fallible in these scenarios. After all, I'm not sure what extreme risk the dom sees in trusting the sub. "Please don't be totally crazy or sue me after I beat the shit out of you." Whereas, subs - if they aren't totally crazy - are thinking about the aura of trust into which they are placing their vulnerable bodies and minds. Huge responsibility for the dom. Anyway. Mr FD and I are building over time and interested in seeing what happens and that's good enough for what I want right now. Funny though, since February, since deciding to meet him, I've been saying the same thing to myself: I am ready to be his full-time and live with him - but let's see how this homestay goes just in case. I have, since February, asked the stars for a sign and all I get is monthly decisions to make another homestay. I think they're now laughing at me - and some must be screaming and rolling their eyes. "What more do you want, Lola?!?!?! THIS IS THE SIGN!" I know. I know. But rationality isn't a foe.

And so, vacationing and home.

I'd like to get crazy fucking drunk on wine with pdh and M and see where things go in the middle of the sky. Albert Camus visited it in the 1950s and remarked that “In Cordes, everything is beautiful, even regret”. We shall see.

And then, Barcelona. I haven't seen this fabulous place since sometime in 1998, when one could climb to the top of the cathedral and look out. I wonder if I still can. I didn't fall in love with BCN then, but so many people have loved her since that I wonder what magic has come. I'd prefer to stop along the way than rest inside the city. But, I'm lucky to be driven along the road so we'll see where we go.

And then, BCN to GVA, train to Mr FD. We had an hour chat today, which was nice as my mind was reeling with packing, doing, running errands, paying landlord, this person wants to see me, this person, and he told me stories that distracted my brain race. But at the same time, I felt a bit ... strange. I haven't been one to co-habit with another person for a long damn time. Even with James, my longest relationship, we spent almost 2 years just spending weekends together. I have to admit I'm terrified by the idea of 10-12 days with one person. Granted, we both have work to do and I have territory to explore in the country so it won't be like every second spent together. But it could be. And I'm not afraid of that. Strangely. Instead, I'm afraid of finding out that we couldn't spend every second together. And my seconds are imagined with silence - me in hood and serving with no talking, with OCD - me as céline cleaning and no speaking, with screams - in pain, with quiet - us both on laptops working on whatever, in torture - me tied up and silenced for hours on the floor. Whatever. I'm so hoping it will work out because I can't fathom it not.

One strange thing I thought about today though. As Mr FD told me about a fling with a story. Adjusting to poly is interesting. I haven't really practiced it despite my years of believing in it. I have bubbling feelings of fear, desire, want, admiration, justification, attraction, love as he tells me about this. I'm also jealous. I had a drink - finally - with the Butcher since our last year love affair. It ended up with a lot of whiskey and spanking and fucking. I loved being with him, but I also kept seeing Mr FD. I kept feeling him. I kept thinking of him. I'm just not sure what kind of a poly I am. Or how to do it without feeling weird. I want sex and love and fun with other people, but I'm not sure how to balance all the feelings. So I'm jealous that Mr FD already has his poly understanding - although I'm sure he'll help me figure out mine. And from all this, as our Skype call went on, as he told me about his fling and as we talked briefly about mine.. I kind of started to freak out. This is the first time that I feel I'm involved with someone who out-kinks me. Really. Someone who knows more about bdsm, has more experience with poly. This hasn't happened since... well, almost never, at least at this depth. And that's a total throttle. Not that I don't have something to share or teach, not a self-diss. But to be with someone who might be more kinky and crazy than me? I think this might, sadly, bring out the defenses and the punk rock fuck you. Or, I might be able to bring the earthy, yes, yes, guru listening and learning in me. I just don't know. I've never been here before. And part of me hates the idea and part of me is oh so grateful.

Yes, vacationing. It will take on a lovely form. And I'm ready for it.