Wonderful days!

I really should have sat down and written this sooner, but I kept putting it off.  And now that I’m here ready to type, my mind goes wandering!

At any rate, I wanted to document the events of the past few days.  Saturday was beautiful!  Baby Hipster and Pouf dropped by while parental units were gone for the day and we had a great time at the mall.  It was so fun to just hang out, to walk around and talk and look at all the cool things for sale.

We started out just walking without any real destination, and before long Pouf spotted Hot Topic and wanted to browse around, maybe find some window decals for her car; Baby Hipster also wanted to see if they had a color of nail polish she’d seen recently.  No luck with the decals but they both found polish in colors they liked.  Headed out of there and kept walking, ended up at the end of the mall with Frederick’s of Hollywood, and I had to stop there and show them around and point out some of my favorites… they looked around a bit too, and spotted some things I liked a lot but had never really noticed before.  Nobody bought anything there (though I’m sure we all wished we could have!) and we all continued along.

Bath & Body Works was just a short walk away, so we stopped there and Baby Hipster., who just started working at a different one, was able to point out some of the best fragrances and make a couple recommendations for me; Pouf almost bought some new lip gloss since she’s almost out, but it wasn’t really in her budget that day.  Out and onward we went, to…

Victoria’s Secret!  I’d forgotten how much more they offer than just lingerie — cosmetics, personal fragrance, bags, jewelry… everything a woman needs to look as sexy as she feels!  Pouf‘s sister had insisted that this “miracle bra” was the most amazing thing, but Pouf scoffed when she saw and felt it — “I have one that’s the same concept, but way better!  I don’t know what she was talking about.”  I saw a lot of nice ideas for things to wear, but obviously the whole “I’m broke” thing made it just dreaming.

Next place we stopped was the Disney Store.  I couldn’t believe how long it had been since I’d stepped in there!  We looked around a bit, found some really cute stuff and some really stupid stuff, and of course there was the classic question of “Which Disney Princess Is Your Favorite/Are You Most Like?”  Baby Hipster was undecided between Belle and Ariel, I was very sure mine was Ariel, and try as I might now while writing this, I can’t remember what Pouf said!  I’ll send her a text and update this when I find out. Edit:  Found out why I couldn’t remember — she couldn’t decide!  She was trying to figure out which princess she was most like, but never figured it out.

Almost next door to Disney was Torrid.  May Mother smile upon whomever it was that had the courage to open a store that offers good fashion to those of us with “a little more to love” — a slap in the face of mass media telling us we all need to be deathly thin to be beautiful.  There was a lot there, but nothing that caught our eyes in the way of clothing… but those two both found pocketbooks they loved, and Baby Hipster bought one for herself.

It was getting to be mid-afternoon, and when someone mentioned that we should go ahead and meet up with the guys, I was a little surprised at first, but it was a good surprise, really.  I had dressed up extra-sexy that day and certainly didn’t mind having more eyes on me!  Pouf used my directions to get to RPJ‘s house, where we all chilled for a while, just chatting and shit.  The general consensus was that it was much too early to call it a night at 7:30, so when you want to do something and there really isn’t anything — what else but Denny’s?  Spent some time there — I got an Oreo shake — and then we drove around town for a while, following Martian in his truck, until we ended up at what was — by far — the worst of the porn shops I’ve been to.  The first thing that assaulted my senses as we entered was the stench of years of stale cigarette smoke… then there was the paltry selection of toys and novelties, and rounding out the dismal store were the walls lined with magazines that looked as if they’d been sitting there for 20 years or more, unsold.

Well, that had kinda killed my good mood, and I know I was more than a little bitchy as Pouf and Baby Hipster. drove me back home (sorry, girls!) but when we got back to my place and I got into the house I realized I was getting pretty turned on!  Decided to do something crazy and more than a little dangerous: I knew my parents would be home any minute, along with my youngest sister who they’d picked up from the airport.  I needed to get off, and needed it bad, so I sat down at my computer — downstairs at the front of the house — stripped down to just the garter belt and lacy thigh-highs I’d put on that morning, turned on one of my favorite porn clips — on speakers, not headphones — and started fucking myself.  Was a little worried when things started out slow, but I really came when I heard the car pull in, the doors open and three familiar voices out the window.  I still don’t know how I managed it, but I actually got the porn turned off, some grungy jeans I’d gotten ready put on, my shirt over my head, and my other lingerie tucked away, right while they were walking in the front door, and had just sat back down in my chair in time to act nonchalant as they came past my computer room into the kitchen.  It was an absolute blast and while I don’t think I’ll be trying anything that extreme again anytime soon, it sure was fun!

Okay, tonight was supposed to be movie night part two, but considering I started writing almost two hours ago, and I’m drifting off to sleep, I’ll just have to continue later with my tale, and watch movies in the morning.

To be continued!

Oh, What a night!

SO much to say — where to even begin?!?

Welllll… last night was spent out on the town — Pouf, Baby Hipster, Martian, RPJ, and yours truly all got together on a whim, spent lots of time together. Started out trying to figure out anything to do at night in the area, only to be severely disappointed when nobody could think of anywhere to go. Someone asked whether there might be any type of sit-down ice cream parlor in the area… I got to really show my age by recommending someplace that I don’t think now has been there in a good 10 or 15 years! We drove over to see anyway, and — shock! It wasn’t there! — so we went to the mainstay of “It’s late, where do we go?” locations, Denny’s. Everyone else ordered at least something, even the guys got just a dessert, but with as completely broke as I am and having eaten not long before, I made do with an ice water (lemon added!)

We sat around and ate, made chit-chat for a while, but soon found ourselves asking “What’s next for tonight?” Baby Hipster and Martian had written down the name and address of an adult shop over in Vacaville, but with the time we’d spent at Denny’s and the time we spent tooling around Vacaville attempting to find the damn place, we managed to arrive a full thirty minutes after they closed.

So, back to the question of “What shall we do now?” Everyone liked the idea of stopping at a porn store, but we were reluctant to commit to the drive to Sac just for that, so we sat around for a bit, tried GOOG-411 many times trying to find a local store we hadn’t discovered, walked around the parking lot or sat in our cars before finally deciding, “Fuck this. School night for some, work night for others, no matter. We’re making the drive — we need some fun tonight.”

Made the trip on up there, stopped at a little place called Suzie’s and as we were pulling into the parking lot, I became quite seriously aware that I needed a stop in the little girl’s room. Well, there certainly wasn’t going to be a restroom in an adult store, and the only other potential candidate was a Carl’s Jr. next door which was already closed for the night. I was really at a point where I couldn’t enjoy browsing at the store without caring for my bladder first, so, with a bit of encouragement and a few votes of confidence — and certainly a fair bit of adrenaline — I walked over to the corner of the building by the dumpster, lowered my pants and panties just enough, adjusted my legs as needed and publicly urinated for the first time in my life! It was actually quite exciting, even for something as “dirty” as it was; I’d never thought that the relatively simple and mundane act of relieving myself could be an adventure!

At any rate, I rejoined the rest of the party and we entered the shop, browsed around quite a bit, found some rather interesting and fun toys and such… Suzie’s had a larger range of products from the Jelly Caribbean line I’d used (both my 6.5″ and 8.5″ are from that line, the “4” and the “1”, respectively) but I wasn’t too impressed by the rest of the series’ lineup. We stopped in the section with packaged lingerie for a bit, and we girls had to — as politely as possible — express our distaste for the horrid selections the guys thought we’d look great in (or perhaps not us, but some other “dream figure!”) Not having shopped with Pouf or Baby Hipster before, I was pleased and impressed to find that we all shared a similar eye for style and beauty that Martian and RPJ didn’t seem to really get — then again, maybe it’s just the whole male mentality, who knows?

We were on our way out of the parking lot with plans to stop at another toy store when disaster struck! Pouf had a light on her dash come on that she knew was serious, but wasn’t sure exactly the meaning of. We pulled out the car manual and found the symbol — “Malfunction Indicator Light.” Course of action? “Immediately bring vehicle to your authorized dealer for service.” Fuck. So, we called the guys who had driven off completely oblivious to the fact that we weren’t following them at all, waited for them to drive back and see what they could figure out about the car. Turns out, not much. They were pretty pissed about something, I think they said they couldn’t see anything in the engine for some reason, but whatever it was they didn’t have any way to diagnose problems. Apparently there was some sort of seal they couldn’t deal with, I didn’t really get it but cars have never been my thing.

Final recommendation was that Pouf should take the car home for the night and drive to the dealership in the morning — it was safe enough to get a little ways but not the kind of thing to drive around town all night. We all drove over to her place but when we got there things were looking like parental unit interference was imminent so rather than tempt that wrath by inviting two of the group to stay there while one other was dropped home in Sac, then the rest (including myself) picked up again and transported home — we fit four not-completely-skinny folks in the cab of a pickup truck. Granted, it’s a pretty large cab, but it was very “cozy” packed in there. Plus, we happened to be in one of the most heavily-patrolled neighborhoods in Sac, since apparently there’s a hospital right nearby… we made it to the freeway as quickly as fucking possible without driving recklessly, and perhaps it was the Mother looking out for me or maybe just shit-dumb luck, but we got back to Baby Hipster‘s place in one piece, without incident. We all filed indoors, stood around for a few, and Martian and Baby Hipster had a couple Jello Shots (actually I think Martian only took one since he was driving back!) before we bid Baby Hipster a wonderful night and left for the trip back home again.

Or so I thought! We noted that it was “only” 1 in the morning, and that there must be something we could still do, so Martian mentioned yet another porn store adjacent to and owned by a strip club. I must certainly say, that shop was by far the most impressive I’ve yet seen. There was a whole area with clothes, and in fact a wall of shoes and boots! I found the perfect shoes for my next purchase, but was so excited I didn’t even think to pull out my cellphone and snap a photo! There was also a positively stunning evening dress, again, I didn’t remember I had a camera with me, even as the others were snapping photos with their phones of products they wished to remember or further research.

Well, we finally finished browsing there, and decided to actually head home for the night. The trip was mostly uneventful; other than an area where the air was so thick with smoke that visibility was greatly reduced, nothing of interest happened or was seen.

Pulled up to my house, and, as I had predicted, all the lights were on, including the porch light, and the door was unlocked. I honestly half-expected to see one or both of my parents sitting on the couch waiting up for me… I mean, really — when I can count on one hand the number of times in the last 15 years that I’ve left the house without either keys or ID, and the fact that I’m almost 28, you’d think that I could be treated slightly more like a responsible adult. You’d be wrong, because my parents are who they are, but you’d be reasonable in thinking that.

Got in, turned off the lights, locked the door, went upstairs to undress for bed, and to my horror and dismay, the very sexy black with red trim nylons I had opened just that morning had shredded almost completely on the sole of one foot. I bought this pair of stockings just a few days ago with $15 that I really couldn’t afford to spend in the first place, because the other pair was getting very worn; one fucking day wearing the new ones and they’re ruined! I was so upset I nearly cried… but I decided to sleep on things instead, remembering that life always looks better when you wake up in the morning.

I fell asleep fairly quickly, not surprising considering it was about 2:45AM. But then I awoke at 4:30 or so with my body absolutely screaming for an orgasm — I wanted my ass pounded, I wanted hands, tongues, whatever else all over my body… and I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Even my toys weren’t an option since I’ve been out of personal lubricant for several days now — and don’t have the money to buy more. For the first time, I wanted to curse the Mother for her sexual gifts. I cried aloud, “Fuck you, Mother! Fuck you! Have you given me this need — beyond wishes, beyond desire, a drive so intense it is a necessity — have you done this for your own sadistic amusement? Simply so you can watch me squirm with unfulfilled lust?” I quickly realized that such words were nothing but praise, no matter how hatefully intended, so I simply lay there in blissful agony, doing all I could to forget the previous events of the night and to distract myself with the mundane… I don’t know precisely how long it was, but at least quarter past five I had last looked at the clock before I fell back to sleep sometime, craving sufficiently diminished to find slumber yet again.

Thus concluded my crazy, crazy night… and then I awoke at 7:30 bright-eyed and ready to face the day!

P.S. — A note to Pouf and Baby Hipster (if you read this!), parental units are scheduled to vacate the premises for the majority of Saturday this week. If there’s any way to possibly arrange it, I would be honored and delighted to spend a day as “just the girls,” maybe cruise the mall or something, and benefit from your advice on something to earmark for an outfit purchase once I have money again. If you’ve already got plans, or are otherwise unavailable, I understand — but I’m certainly hoping we can make this work!

I may be safe, but safety and happiness aren’t the same thing.

This morning I came downstairs after a very good sleep ready to face the day — or so I thought.  My dad was getting his breakfast together before going off to work, and on seeing me decided it was the perfect opportunity to play bitch-by-proxy.  Apparently my mom can’t speak to me directly if she has an issue to take up; she has to enlist his “help” to talk things over now.

Anyway, he told me he had “a medical concern” to bring up (he’s a practicing R.N. and has been for over 20 years) and went on to explain that my mom was deeply worried that I wasn’t getting my pills properly spaced 12 hours apart.  So I maintained yet another lie, that not only am I taking every single dose, but they are appropriately timed, and although they may not be exactly twelve hours apart, they’re no less than 10 and no more than 14.

I would truly love to be able to tell them that it doesn’t matter how far apart my lies saying I took the stupid drugs happen, because you can’t even easily measure the time between my doses in hours!  But I go for the self- preservation option and feed them the bullshit they want to hear so that I can continue keeping a roof over my head and food to eat so I don’t starve.

As if that weren’t bad enough, up next was — now that I think of it, it was basically a sermon — about what a marvelous spiritually touching experience he’d had yesterday discussing with the 16- and 17 -year old boys at church their excitement and conviction in teaching “God’s will” to their classmates and how they knew all the right things to say when someone challenged them on their support of Prop. 8.  The whole time he’s preaching at me, he keeps pausing and waiting for my approval and admiration, which I’m obligated (at this point) to provide in the form of “yeah… cool…” or “Gee, that’s great…”

I don’t understand how he can completely miss the edge of sarcasm in my voice, how he can be so completely blind to the reality of his own daughter’s life… but for now, I must wonder silently; to question aloud would begin a great unraveling of the fragile threads holding my daily living together.

At any rate, he continued on about various other things, including an attempt to draw some sort of parallel between the Mormon church’s “persecution” in the 1960s over their then-current policy of denying the priesthood to black men.  He carefully omitted the part about how suddenly as things in the civil rights movement started to favor racial equality, there was “a message from God” decreeing that “all worthy men of proper age should now be allowed to hold the priesthood.”

I don’t know if he suddenly realized he was endlessly rambling, or if he clued in to the fact that I didn’t give two shits about his bigoted religious views and didn’t want to stand around listening, or if he just saw the time and realized he had to go to work, but he trailed off what he was saying and then concluded with “Well, there’s your day’s Civics lesson! Glad I could help teach you this morning! Hahaha, heeheee… chuckle… (pause expecting equivalent laughter from me, which I tried for at least…)”

But as I was sitting down to type up this entry, I saw some of my old posts and also my current mood message — “I can handle the low points in life…”, “It may not be much, but it’s my life, and it *will* get better”, “I can be happy knowing that I am doing what I feel I should”, “I’ve been happy in general overall”, and “I’m happier these last months than I can remember being in many, many years”… and I drew strength from my own words and thoughts.  It’s better to be safe and have a stable place to live, even if it means playing these stupid games for now, lying to my family, putting up with stories about how wonderful their church is and how perfect it is that Prop. 8 passed… it’s better to deal with that shit for now than to find myself cut off from the only family I have, out on the street somewhere with nothing to survive on.

Patience is a key asset that I must nurture and develop… it will save me in the end, I think.

Ah yes, I had wanted to mention a quote from my mom, overheard the other day during one of her many lengthy conversations with my dad on Prop. 8 — “So much of what they [opponents of Proposition 8] say makes such perfect sense….. if they just weren’t looking at it from the wrong perspective!”

I’ve heard her elaborate further on that to the effect that all of the points made for same-sex marriage make absolute logical sense, but since it isn’t a logical but a moral and a spiritual issue, those logical arguments are therefore completely invalid — God says so, and He’s more right than anybody on the planet.

How do you surgically remove that kind of Tumor of Stupid from an otherwise perfectly healthy Person of Intelligence?  Is it even possible?  When someone decides that logic can only be selectively applied to the world around us, according to their own choosing, what defense can we mount against them?  Do they get to keep thinking they’ve won the debate simply because you see the futility of continuing in it and walk away?

I think I’ll ask my friend RPJ for input on the matter.  If it’s debate — well-structured, intelligent, logical debate — that you want, he’s the one to find.  Always level-headed and able to separate emotional bias from logical proposals, sophistry from sanity, and a master of wit, I’m sure he’d have some sage advice on how to proceed.  However, if anyone else out there wants to chime in on things, please feel free!  Comments and kudos welcome.

Life got you down? Need to relax? Try a shot of THIS!

I am so, so wonderfully delighted right now.  I mean, there’s always been the effect of awakening fresh and with a more positive outlook on life than when you lay down, but this was on a whole new level!

So, to back up a bit… I was rather disappointed early today when I found that I would be stuck in again all day with little to do.  Sure, some text messages to and from Pouf were a welcome diversion, and later conversations with Witness (more about him later, may have found a great xmas gift for myself!) and exchanging a few songs with N.H. all made for some temporary distractions, but I was feeling more and more moody, trapped, and isolated… so much so that I rather abruptly cut off a couple conversations I was having and just sat for a while before heading up to my bed.

Obviously one of the few things that will always get me feeling better is my sex toys, but this time instead of trying to actually get off with them, I just slid my 8-inch vibe up my ass, dialed the motor all the way up, and just lay there relaxing.  Shit!   I mean… I knew it was a great help in making me come, but just letting the vibration radiate through my pelvis and thighs was so incredibly calming that before I realized it, I was drifting off to sleep!  Thank the Mother I had the coherence to turn the power off so my fresh new batteries didn’t die with one use; I would have been very unhappy.

So, power was turned off, and I was about to pull the cock out, when I thought… “why take it out at all?  It feels great, I’m so relaxed with it in, and I’m very sleepy anyway, so why not sleep with eight inches inserted?”  So that’s exactly what I did, and when I woke up, I not only had lost the grumpy mood from before, but I was physically refreshed and sexually charged and ready to take on any kind of shit life threw at me.

This will definitely not be the only time this happens, I promise you that.  As for the “more on Witness” bit, he has offered to provide both his digital camera and photographer’s eye and give me a photoshoot as a Christmas gift!  I’ll finally have some sexy pictures of myself all dressed up (or perhaps more… UNdressed, I suppose!)  I won’t be posting any of them here, obviously; they’ll all be a little too risqué to host or display on MySpace.  Sorry to any of my readers who had hoped to see me — the Internet is too dangerous a place to put anything potentially incriminating these days… all it takes is one bastard snagging something he shouldn’t have a copy of and circulating it, to get a girl in all sorts of trouble.

Of course, there are a few of you — and you know who you are, I think — who will definitely have full access to the results if you so wish. Your trust and love has been earned and is well-deserved.

Mother smile on you always — every one of you — and may She grant your most potent sexual fantasies, that you might dedicate that joy and pleasure to Her.

Anticipation, doubt, uncertainty, and a bit of success!

So, a couple days ago I left something potentially incriminating out in the open, completely by accident. [note: it was the “women’s razor” I’d bought for shaving my body hair.] I know I’m usually very open and don’t make any effort to conceal things or be vague here on my blog, but forgive me this one departure from my usual kiss-and-tell self — I have my reasons.

Anyway, this something was left in an open enough and highly-trafficked enough area that I have no doubt that the parental units saw it out there, and while I took care of it later, I have reason to suspect that they’re “testing the waters” so to speak by leaving similar items around in about the same place as a “let’s see if Sophia brings up the subject so we can catch her being ‘naughty’ and then use that as an excuse to drag out every last dirty detail about the rest of her life that she’s been hiding!” kind of deal… Now while there’s every possibility that it’s a total coincidence, and I’m getting all frazzled and paranoid over nothing, it’s hard to stay calm when I have the specter of that huge confrontation hanging over me.

It seems that no matter how many times I command myself, “Sophia, chill out!”, “Miss ‘Phia, calm down, don’t stress over it!”, or “Be the Lady you claim you are and grow up about it, take life as it happens and let be what will be!” — I still keep those butterflies flitting around inside me, and it’s really not fun being so worked up.

I’m still happy overall, and I’ve been doing pretty well at not letting perceived potential confrontations that may or may not even happen get me down too much, but staying happy has occasionally been a bit of work.  Better to work a little and stay well than to let it all slide and feel like shit, though… right?  Yeah.  Definitely.

On a completely unrelated note — I can now confidently say that I’m at a point where I no longer cut, scratch, or otherwise mangle myself when I shave my pubic hair!  It wasn’t a completely simple process like I’d expected, especially since my legs — which are so much more complex shapes — are a cinch (okay, usually a cinch; of course this morning would be the day I slice my knee because I managed to lose control of the razor for a minute…)  So I’m pretty happy that I can take care of my grooming and personal care without (for the most part) any injuries, where just a month ago I was fed up with trying to wrangle the fur-monster all day long and had never nuked the hair in the area.

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