FUNCTIONAL WHIMSICAL DAZZLING

I’m not taking another prolonged hiatus. I promise.

However, my life is currently completely consumed by three things:

The Wedding
The Move
The Puppy

In pretty much that order. I’m so tired of chasing vendors down, and purging my basement. Pouring over puppy training books and the latest issue of Modern Dog, is my little “treat”. It’s my escape from real life.

So, there isn’t a lot of interesting things to write about. V came over last weekend to spend the night and put in many hours of sorting and packing in my basement. I was so grateful for the help, because getting rid of things is sometimes difficult for me, and she knows how to gently push me to discard things.

This afternoon I’m going to check out the annual gear sale at our local camping store. I can’t really justify buying any new things right now, buuuuuuuut, I can’t resist just going to see what they’ve got. Aiden is away at work for a seven day stretch right now, so I’m just keeping busy.

Next week I’m going fabric shopping with the lovely gal who is making my wedding dress, so that should be fun. The Calgary Pet Expo is coming up, so I’m going to drag Aiden to that. Otherwise, life is pretty full of being a boring adult and doing a lot of grown up crap.

Hopefully some interesting things happen at some point in the near future. Until then, I might just keep poking my head in to bore you with words about packing or puppies.

Look At This Floof!!!

Just look at it! He looks like a little bear-dog hybrid.

 

That floof is the brother of our future floof. His mother is the one in the top image there. Look at what a good dog she is! She’s the best dog.

This is the floof’s father. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy.

Our pupper is due to arrive in this world on May 15th, which will thrill Sadie, as that’s right near her birthday. He will be ready to come home on MY birthday, at the start of September. I can’t think of a better wedding/birthday/Christmas gift!!!

Corned Beef And Re-Hash

So, now that we’ve talked about the past, I don’t want to keep falling back to that just for the sake of content. That’s not why I started writing here again (to be completely frank, I can’t afford to see my therapist very often right now, and this place used to suffice). Even though I need a place to spew out a bunch of feelings, I also don’t want to just whine all the time. So, I hope you few will bear with me while I find my new groove. Maybe that should be the new tagline of this blog… “How Shasta got her groove back”

LOL, no.

I guess I will just write whatever I want, like I always did.

My current sex life is admittedly pretty pathetic, not for lack of want, but for lack of Aiden. He works out of town five days a week, so we only get up to getting down once or twice a weekend. We make it count though, no complains on the quality, just the quantity. We haven’t played for a long time, but I’m hoping we might get a chance in the foreseeable future.

We are moving this summer, after the wedding (of course, being nomads and all) to be closer to Aiden’s work, so that I get to see him more than just on weekends. It’s a pain in the ass. Also I am kind of a hoarder. Maybe I will start a regular feature called “What Hoarders Keep” because so far I have found a wooden box full of cigars that is AT LEAST 10 years old. Also a set of steak knives, the kind you got for free when you bought a vacuum. They were still in the box and they had those pearlescent handles that were so popular in the 50’s. Then there was the ancient cookie press that I’m sure was manufactured in the same decade that cookies were invented. My house isn’t filled with garbage and cat carcasses, but I definitely find some weird things that I’ve pack-ratted from place to place in boxes that I never open. Moving is shit. My consolation prize is that I’m FINALLY going to be able to have a dog again.

The kids are still going to be 50/50 because the move isn’t taking us TOO far away. The schedule might be a bit jumbled at first, and I will be staying at Jack’s quite a bit when its my turn with the kiddos, but everyone is agreeable to that (and it will actually help Jack out if I can kick him a few bucks for the pleasure of living in his basement off and on). It’s not ideal, but we are hopeful it will only be short-term, until the economy picks back up and more opportunities become available in Aiden’s trade. Until then, we have to do what we need to. The real upside of moving is that our new town had a significantly lower cost of living, so I won’t have to worry about going back to work. Not that I don’t want to work, but my business with Lyra is just starting to take off, and I’d like to get pregnant again. Being able to work on my own schedule will be ideal during both pregnancy and with a newborn.

Anyway, kind of boring, but that’s how we roll at the moment. Hopefully things perk up around here, or I fear I will resort to writing endlessly about wedding planning.

Kidding. Maybe ūüėČ

And So The Adventure Begins

During the recent course of reconnecting with some of my old online acquaintances (here, on their blogs, Twitter, FetLife) someone asked me “What have you guys been up to all these years?”

I think I’ve gone over all of the relationship stuff, but there are also a lot of really fabulous things we’ve done that I haven’t mentioned. Here’s a bit of a list, for those curious readers:

– Hiked and backpacked literally hundreds of kilometers. Spent dozens of nights in a tent
– Backpacked twice on the west coast (of Canada) both as a couple, and with the younglings
– Took a cruise to Alaska
– Went on a 10-day roadtrip of the Yukon
– Camped and backpacked in the winter, in the mountains
– Flew out east to visit family several times
– Moved three times (every 2 years, on average)
– I’ve had at least 8-10 different jobs. There are probably some that I don’t remember. Not because I can’t keep a job, I quit or was laid off due to the difficult economic situation here in Alberta the past few years. It took me a lot of trial and error to find jobs that I liked. My recent couple places of employment were for 2+ years each.
– Aiden has had three jobs, he’s an apprentice, so that’s not uncommon. He moves around every year or two in order to get new experience and opportunities in his trade.
– We were vegan for around a year, for health and environmental reasons
– Adopted two cats
– Traded in the Nitro for a brand new Dodge Ram almost 5 years back. Last year at Christmas I surprised Aiden with a new-to-him Dodge Dakota. It’s Alberta after all, so…trucks for everyone.
– LARPed some, and then quit LARPing, and then started LARPing again
– Dehydrated everything from venison jerky to lentil chili
– Took up hunting, doing all our own butchering, etc.
– I wrote words in other places, but I think I was just burned out and it always felt forced. I gave up writing for a long time
– Took V on her first backpacking trip (she and I have done two girls weekends and one group trip together so far)
– Made another very best friend, at a time I wasn’t expecting it. She’s going to need a name, so I think I will call her Lyra.
– Started a small business with Lyra, and we are getting consistent sales, and there is so much potential, and I’m very excited about it all.

That basically sums up the highlights. I’m sure there are things that I missed, and I’m sure there are things that people don’t find remarkable, but they stand out for me. Plus this will help if I refer to any of these things in future posts, so now everyone is more or less up to speed on the 6ish year absence.

This Is How We Heal

I’m addicted to the past.

It’s like reading someone else’s story now, not mine, not ours.

I poured over K’s old blog. I can see the appeal objectively now, following the shared drama like a weekly soap. We were ridiculous, there were so many comments, I really understand now why we drew such a following for a time. I don’t mean to sound arrogant, I’m not, I have the good sense now to be embarrassed. That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the entertainment for entertainments sake. A poorly written novel can still have it’s moments. It was still a better love story than Twilight.

Really I’m killing time. Between purging and packing I give myself moments of respite, and bury myself in this strange yet familiar history. It’s mostly foreign to me now. My heart has forgotten all of the anguish, it healed, even though I never thought it would. Not just thin scabs, but hardened scars, fibrous and strong, protecting all of those vulnerable spots that used to bleed so freely.

Time, it seems, does indeed heal all wounds.

Don’t Be Afraid Of My Scars

I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin.

-Excerpt From: Mouthful Of Forevers by Clementine von Radics

I have to admit, this is the third or fourth attempt I’ve made at “planning” this upcoming wedding. Truth be told, I’m not wild about the idea of getting remarried. It’s a scary place to navigate, knowing so intimately the destruction and devastation of separation and divorce. I tread timidly, only to be startled into sprinting the other direction.

It’s not that I don’t want to be with Aiden. I do. I don’t think that a split, even when unmarried, is easier or less complicated. Our finances are already tangled, which as it turns out is the least of the difficulties (Jack and I sorted the money and debt between us in less than a day or two of negotiating). It’s like I have a mental block. Every time we move towards the proverbial alter, it’s as if the flaws in our relationship become magnified and insurmountable. And there are flaws. We’ve been going to couples therapy (again) since August. ¬†Not because we are at the end of our rope, but because we wanted to improve our communication and uncover any residual difficulties before they got out of hand. ¬†It’s been a really positive experience for us, and while the miscarriage was one of the most difficult things we’ve gone through, we turned towards each other in our grief, not away. ¬†It cemented us together, and things have been actually quite peaceful ever since.

The tragedy of it all actually brought out a part of Aiden that I’d never witnessed before, and melted away many of the doubts that I had. ¬†He stayed by my side for hours while I suffered and labored and nearly had to be rushed to the hospital for loss of blood. ¬†He was so gentle and careful, making certain I had water, pain killers, a heating pad, and whatever else I needed. ¬†He held me while I cried and cried, soothing me quietly, promising me it would be ok, even though neither of us could really know that for sure. ¬†We were at my mothers when it happened, and since then even she has been different towards him. ¬†She remarked to another family member (who related it to me) that she hadn’t expected it from him, and that she could see how deeply he wanted that¬†baby, but how selflessly he sheltered me, in spite of his own very visible anguish. ¬†He was my champion, and it did not go unnoticed.

So it was, in the throes of our mourning, that I suggested we should get married this summer. ¬†I needed something to look forward to. ¬†Something else to focus on, to drown myself in. ¬†My mother, at one time our biggest detractor (she knows all about the poly, the open marriage, the full-meal-deal regarding how Aiden came to be in my life) is now our greatest cheerleader. ¬†She’s been absolutely amazing when it comes to wedding planning, throwing herself into helping me with an enthusiasm I never could have imagined. ¬†It’s likely the main reason I haven’t spooked this time.

I haven’t quite put my finger on what scares me so much. ¬†All the divorcees that I know just nod knowingly¬†when I express being a reluctant second-time bride. ¬†It’s difficult to put into words, and yet it seems to be a universal truth among us. ¬†Maybe it’s a fear of failure, or of being judged for not being able to hold it together. ¬†Nobody wants to get divorced once, let alone a second time. ¬†I’m mystified by people who seem to think nothing of walking down the isle a third or fourth time, I don’t think I could do it.

Marriage is important to Aiden, and I can’t fault him for that. ¬†Despite my scars, he remains adamant about pledging his heart to me for the rest of our lives. ¬†Fear isn’t a good enough reason for me to refuse, it’s simply an obstacle that I will overcome.

Post-Polyamory

Yesterday I wasn’t feeling particularly well, and so I spent the day re-reading the old blog, in reverse. Oh memory lane.

First, it was interesting to see, objectively, the way my writing changed over the years. It definitely improved, which was actually surprising to me. Mostly because I always fancied myself a pretty good writer, even from Day One, but my writings definitely matured over those years.

Second, OMG angst isn’t even a remotely strong enough word for what sums up that whole disaster. My early commenters/dissenters were right: I was super bad at poly. Especially at the beginning, with K. Oh lawdy what a trainwreck that was. What a self-righteous and self-obsessed asshole I was. Many of my posts were so cringe-worthy I have a hard time reading them. Just, so much drama and self-loathing and rebellion and acting out.

I had been considering reinstating all of the archives here, but to be honest, I’m pretty embarrassed by a good deal of those posts. I mean, I was young. Mid-20’s and boy did I think I knew it all. 10+ years older and wiser now, and I’m ashamed of a lot of the person I was back then. I still haven’t decided if I will import all that content here, maybe it’s best to let sleeping blogs lie.

Reviewing all of that old content has definitely stirred some feelings. Even though Aiden and I closed our relationship when I separated from Jack, and kept it closed, I’m not opposed to the concept of polyamory. For that matter, poly/open relationships are somewhat surprisingly common in our current circles. I am quite good pals with several people who are poly, and speak openly about it. I’ll admit I admire their courage at being “out” and have hope that non-monogamous relationships will become more widely acceptable over time. It’s just not for us, although there are definitely aspects of it that I enjoyed and occasionally miss. Aiden works out of town now, and the weeks when the kids are with Jack can be a bit lonely. I don’t feel *alone* like I used to so frequently (what was up with that?) but I’m definitely lonely at times. I will admit the appeal of having a man to spend my weekdays with has crossed my mind from time to time, but I don’t linger on those fleeting thoughts. I miss dating sometimes, but I definitely do NOT miss all the crazy, all the jealousy, none of that. I’m not cut out for sharing, and I spent too many years trying to force that square peg into a round hole.

It’s interesting to look back now, so many years down the road, on what happened between Jack and I. Opening our marriage was actually not where things began to break down, it had begun before that. Polyamory just magnified the weak spots, and created gaps that could be filled by other partners, to our detriment. We both made choices. Younger me couldn’t stand to shoulder the bulk of the responsibility at the time, but in reality, my feelings towards Jack changed and his feelings towards me didn’t. I left. There’s no use denying it. We both contributed to the series of events leading up to that point, but ultimately, I chose Aiden.

I don’t feel like I have to apologize for that anymore.

There Aren’t Any T-Swift Songs For This

I would have been 23 weeks pregnant today.

Instead, I’m struggling to lose the weight I gained during my two months of depression, grief, and emotional eating. I’ve had a “normal” cycle since the emergency D&C, but we aren’t ready to try again. I’m not. I’m afraid. When the miscarriage initially happened I wanted to try again right away. Anything to distract myself from the agony of loss. Now, I just have residual fear and reluctance. With the wedding looming, I’m using that as an excuse to postpone, even though my 35th birthday is just around the corner.

Aiden is working away, and I’m ovulating today, and I’m almost relieved that I don’t have to worry about how good his pull out game is. Maybe dropping an egg is why I feel so emotional, not to mention sexually frustrated.

I do want to try again. I’m just afraid. The miscarriage was traumatizing, basically every single bad thing that could have happened in that event, did. I never want to go through that again, but I realize every pregnancy is rolling the dice, with an ever-increasing chance of failure.

Also, I don’t feel like I can talk to anyone about my grief. Aiden and I have been so content lately, which I just really need right now. I don’t want to keep bringing it up. My closest friends have their own struggles with infertility (not uncommon in a group of ladies our age) and it feels unfair to be sad when I already have two children. Also the D&C was over a month ago, I don’t feel like I get to keep being upset. Truthfully, I don’t think about it most days, but sometimes I do, and I feel very alone in those moments.

Thankfully, I always have this little piece of anonymity that I can dust off when I need it.

I Have Died Every Day Waiting For You

Maybe I will muster up a visit every three years, just to let everyone know that I’m not dead.

I had hoped that I would begin writing here again, just for my own sanity, but…it’s hard, ya know? I’m not really “Shasta” anymore. I don’t really identify with that person, or that part of my life at this point. It seems like such a distant memory now.

Aiden and I have settled into a comfortable life together. In fact, after nearly two years of being engaged, we have finally decided to pull the trigger and get married this summer. I put a deposit down on my dress today.

I was also pregnant, briefly, in November. We found out at eight weeks that the pregnancy wasn’t going to be viable, which was a devastating disappointment, considering we had been planning for several years. We intend to try again once my body recovers from what was a horrendous series of unfortunate events, that culminated in an emergency D&C just last week. I had my IUD removed in September and caught almost immediately, so we are optimistic that it won’t take long the next time around.

So, yeah, I would say that we are signing on for the long haul with each other.

My children with Jack are turning into young adults. 12 and 14 now, and it feels as though time passes more quickly each week that goes by. Speaking of Jack, he is well. Still single, as far as I know, but he dates quite a bit. He just hasn’t found the right woman yet, and I do hope very sincerely that it happens for him. We remain a close family. We continue to have holidays together, and to participate in each others lives. We collectively attend sporting events, parent-teacher interviews, and Christmas concerts.

The Infamous V and I remain the best of friends. We are attending a bridal show this weekend, and she will stand next to me on the big day, filling that role for the second time.

K and I worked at the same company for nearly two years, after he helped me get a job there. Unfortunately due to the economic state of our province, and the nature of the industry, I was laid off in the fall. So, one of my other closest friends and I decided to start a business together, and thus far, it’s quite rewarding and our potential seems very promising.

It might seem mundane, from the outside, but life is good and calm and exactly what I want just now.

What? What?…In The Butt!

Aiden and I don’t often have anal sex, due to his, errr, size. However, once in a while, when we are both frantically horny, we manage some butt fucking, and it’s usually incredible.

He got home from his out of town job on Friday night, after being gone for nearly a week (overtime and all) and we enjoyed a hot shower together, and then fell into bed and enthusiastically got down to business.

He was rough and forceful with me, pulling my hair, and calling me a dirty slut. It was exactly what I wanted. He pushed my mouth down onto his cock until I gagged and couldn’t breath, over and over, until I was gasping and drooling.

When he knelt between my legs, doing marvelous things to my pussy with his fingers, he looked at me lustily and whispered “I want to fuck you in the ass”.

I think I managed to hiss out a “Yes” while I squirmed under his touch.

Lubricant was procured, and after a liberal application, he very, very gently began to enter me.

It was no easy task, but he went deliciously slow, even when I began begging him to fuck me with vigor.

“Oh, I will fuck you” he groaned into my ear “just nice and slow”

And he did, and before very long at all, we were both locked together, orgasming simultaneously. I came so hard that it took my breath away, and overwhelmed me, and immediately afterwards I shuddered and began crying for reasons I still don’t really understand.

Aiden was obviously confused, but he just held me so tight and comforted me. When I had regained my composure, I apologized for being so emotional (I didn’t really know what else to say) but he just grinned wryly and replied “It’s ok my pet. Butt sex should always result in tears of joy”!

Yes, I agree that it should.

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