I just wrote a very sad email. A friend had asked, several times actually, if we wanted to come to the LARP she's organising this spring. I've been avoiding giving her an answer, but today I did. I wrote and said no thank you. We simply can't. And the moment I hit the send button, my heart felt like it was bursting.
I want to!! I want to keep my friends! I want to go to LARPs! I want to fantasize, roleplay, sleep in the woods and cook over an open fire. I want to wear the outfits I've sewn myself and for a moment, a few hours or a few days, enter a different reality, become someone else. I want that!
But I know that whatever I might fantasize about now, the last ten times we've tried it I haven't really been up for it. Sometimes I've skipped out in the last minute (a shitty thing to do) and sometimes I've gone through with it, out of duty more than enjoyment, and not gotten that much out of it.
I'm afraid that if we ever do have the time and energy again that all our friends will have forgotten us. Forgotten me. They do a hundred fun things every week (so I read on Facebook) and I don't. I'm not there. For the first few years I always thought that well, they'll be there when I get back to it, but I wonder how long that window will stay open? How long before any attempt to rejoin the ranks would be met with "who are you?"
And at the same time I simply can't work up enough enthusiasm about it. I like being home at the evening at week nights. I don't like going out after dinner, I'm tired and I want to be with Mistress the few hours we have alone together. I can go out, but the truth is I don't want to.
And our weekends are hard work taking care of little S. We've tried, numerous times, to bring her to things we enjoy, but she doesn't enjoy them and that ruins it for us. Of course we can go to a meeting and have her with us - but at least one of us will spend the entire time focusing on her, because otherwise she'll either destroy something, throw a tantrum or disappear, and that's not much of a meeting.
The truth is that the free time we do get we need to spend in a way that gives immediate satisfaction. Not planning for fun things that are going to happen in three months - we can't afford that. We need things that are fun now.
And I do get to see friends. The few I have that are 1) not super busy having a life and a hobby and not have time for me or living in a different city and 2) those that I've come close enough to actually call without anything specific in mind, those that want to go grab a coffee with me in particular, those that I can talk to about anything and nothing and simply enjoy the company of. I have those, and maybe the thing is that that is enough.
And also, the Master thesis. For once I'm doing a project at school. School takes up most of my energy not spent on little S, and that means I don't have much left. I actually enjoy what we're doing right now, but it drains me. I come home and I mostly want to sleep. Or kill things on the Playstation.
I don't know. I guess it's not the end of the world if I'm not one of the cool kids and all my acquaintances forget about me. Maybe what I'm grieving is a phase in my life that is over? LARPing saved my life (literary - it was at one of those times during my upbringing when I was a the brink of suicide) when I was seventeen, and has been my main thing in life until now. Or maybe until a couple of years ago.
Maybe I'm growing up - prioritising home life, school and job application, being a mom and having a nice home, over hobby and projects. I don't know. And I don't know whether it's a good thing or not. It is as it is, I guess, for the time being.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 12, 2013
Preparations
"latex model sweden teapot tattoo" was a search term someone used on google and got this blog as a hit. I guess whomever that was must be disappointed. The only thing there is about latex here is references to me being allergic.
But I guess there's probably a gorgeous model photo shoot out there with a girl in latex who has a teapot tattoo.
I want a chain tattoo, around my left ankle, in all the colours of the rainbow and with a golden heart shaped padlock on the inside of the leg, just between the malleous and the Achille's tendon. Only that requires me to actually take some initiative, like going in to the tattoo parlour I pass every time I go and get milk in the grocery store and book an appointment. For something I've been wanting for like two years, I'm showing a remarkable lack of actual action.
I think part of me is hesitant simply because I want it as a symbol for Mistress ownership over me, or maybe as a symbol of the life I lead and the person I am now, and have a hard time getting over the idea that it's her who should be doing the booking.
But Mistress isn't very inclined to book appointments at tattoo places. Not only do they intimidate both her and me, I think she's simply to busy with the everyday stuff. It's a long standing division of labour between us - handling the visionary, the stuff born from imagination, the dream and the future, is often my job. I'm the one who is supposed to lobby for the fun stuff - she decides what we'll do and makes it happen. So if I'm hesitant, nothing much is going to happen.
We had set a date for our ceremony in March. It came and went without much comment. One of the reasons, the main one, is that we've been crazy busy. Another one, I think, is that again, we're both a little intimidated. I know I am. I want it to be just right, but I'm extremely shy and a little embarrassed, and it's just... going slow.
But at the same time, I think we're preparing on the quiet. All this cutting me, for example, came about when we talked about her drawing blood from me and her during the ceremony. How much blood? From where? With what? Wont it get infected? Does she know how to do it?
Well, now she has two cool knifes, we know she can do it, and that it heals pretty fast and the risk for infection is low. If it was actual preparation, I would mark it on a list. As it is, I mark it on a list in my head.
I'm actually wearing the collar now, too. Not instead of a ceremony, but... in waiting for one. I sleep collared, but after two years of wear, the dog collar I used to have fell apart. Dogs don't sweat, but humans do, and eventually it didn't hold up. Instead of buying a new temporary one she used the permanent one over a weekend, and in the end neither one of us wanted her to take it off.
I think that was another thing about the ceremony - what if she puts this fancy collar on me with all sorts of pomp and circumstance, and then it turns out that it hurts me, for example? Or people point and stare? Or it starts... I don't know, rusting? That was another worry, would the collar in question actually work for permanent use?
It does. I've had it on me for a couple of weeks now, and I love it. I usually don't notice it, but when I do it gives me this great feeling of belonging and safety. I've been waiting for comments, from class mates or family or friends, but there has been none. I want to think it's because it looks so right were it is, as if it's always been there (in a more symbolic way, it has been there for the last five or six years or so...)
Another thing I've been doing is practising a song. There's this song written by a Swedish comedian, author and LGBT-activist named Jonas Gardell that I love, and that I suddenly decided I want to sing to Mistress at the ceremony. I can't actually think of something more horrifying, being cut up and vouching away my freedom forever is nothing compared to me trying to sing in public, but if for no other reason than that, I'm going to do it. I want the song sung to her, and it doesn't make sense from someone else than me.
So I practice - I listen to it, and then I record my own feeble attempts and listen back to it, trying to adjust and correct each time. When I grew up I was told and believed I was one of those persons that "can't sing". Now as an adult I know there is no such persons, but not having tried it for most of my life is a definite disadvantage. But since little S came along I've been singing and singing and singing every day, and to a very forgiving audience, and now I think I can sing. A little bit. At least I don't shatter glass.
Or maybe we'll only invite people who are tone deaf? Or completely dead. Or maybe I'll just chicken out and read the whole thing instead. But anyway, preparations are going ahead. On the quiet.
But I guess there's probably a gorgeous model photo shoot out there with a girl in latex who has a teapot tattoo.
I want a chain tattoo, around my left ankle, in all the colours of the rainbow and with a golden heart shaped padlock on the inside of the leg, just between the malleous and the Achille's tendon. Only that requires me to actually take some initiative, like going in to the tattoo parlour I pass every time I go and get milk in the grocery store and book an appointment. For something I've been wanting for like two years, I'm showing a remarkable lack of actual action.
I think part of me is hesitant simply because I want it as a symbol for Mistress ownership over me, or maybe as a symbol of the life I lead and the person I am now, and have a hard time getting over the idea that it's her who should be doing the booking.
But Mistress isn't very inclined to book appointments at tattoo places. Not only do they intimidate both her and me, I think she's simply to busy with the everyday stuff. It's a long standing division of labour between us - handling the visionary, the stuff born from imagination, the dream and the future, is often my job. I'm the one who is supposed to lobby for the fun stuff - she decides what we'll do and makes it happen. So if I'm hesitant, nothing much is going to happen.
We had set a date for our ceremony in March. It came and went without much comment. One of the reasons, the main one, is that we've been crazy busy. Another one, I think, is that again, we're both a little intimidated. I know I am. I want it to be just right, but I'm extremely shy and a little embarrassed, and it's just... going slow.
But at the same time, I think we're preparing on the quiet. All this cutting me, for example, came about when we talked about her drawing blood from me and her during the ceremony. How much blood? From where? With what? Wont it get infected? Does she know how to do it?
Well, now she has two cool knifes, we know she can do it, and that it heals pretty fast and the risk for infection is low. If it was actual preparation, I would mark it on a list. As it is, I mark it on a list in my head.
I'm actually wearing the collar now, too. Not instead of a ceremony, but... in waiting for one. I sleep collared, but after two years of wear, the dog collar I used to have fell apart. Dogs don't sweat, but humans do, and eventually it didn't hold up. Instead of buying a new temporary one she used the permanent one over a weekend, and in the end neither one of us wanted her to take it off.
I think that was another thing about the ceremony - what if she puts this fancy collar on me with all sorts of pomp and circumstance, and then it turns out that it hurts me, for example? Or people point and stare? Or it starts... I don't know, rusting? That was another worry, would the collar in question actually work for permanent use?
It does. I've had it on me for a couple of weeks now, and I love it. I usually don't notice it, but when I do it gives me this great feeling of belonging and safety. I've been waiting for comments, from class mates or family or friends, but there has been none. I want to think it's because it looks so right were it is, as if it's always been there (in a more symbolic way, it has been there for the last five or six years or so...)
Another thing I've been doing is practising a song. There's this song written by a Swedish comedian, author and LGBT-activist named Jonas Gardell that I love, and that I suddenly decided I want to sing to Mistress at the ceremony. I can't actually think of something more horrifying, being cut up and vouching away my freedom forever is nothing compared to me trying to sing in public, but if for no other reason than that, I'm going to do it. I want the song sung to her, and it doesn't make sense from someone else than me.
So I practice - I listen to it, and then I record my own feeble attempts and listen back to it, trying to adjust and correct each time. When I grew up I was told and believed I was one of those persons that "can't sing". Now as an adult I know there is no such persons, but not having tried it for most of my life is a definite disadvantage. But since little S came along I've been singing and singing and singing every day, and to a very forgiving audience, and now I think I can sing. A little bit. At least I don't shatter glass.
Or maybe we'll only invite people who are tone deaf? Or completely dead. Or maybe I'll just chicken out and read the whole thing instead. But anyway, preparations are going ahead. On the quiet.
Apr 10, 2013
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)