Stiletto Diaries

Right now I am basking in the glow of a fabulous clear sunset. The smell of lilacs is heavy in the air and there is only the faintest breeze… I love evenings in the late spring/early summer when the air still gets fairly cool at night and the blossoms are still fresh on the trees. The birds are singing the last songs of the day and I feel like I have the entire world to myself.

Last weekend was wonderful. Friday night I was treated to a delicious lamb donair at Shawarma King down in Kensington. The Badger met with me once he was off of work and we spent about an hour together, mostly discussing the upcoming move and events surrounding it.

Saturday afternoon was my tattoo appointment. V accompanied me, since the ink is in her honour. We arrived and took a look at the drawing my artist had done. It was, in a word, magnificent. Not at all what I had envisioned, but so much more than I had planned. I loved it immediately. She got set up and then it was time to get started. She placed the stencil, somewhat lower than I had planned it to be. However it worked out better where she put it, because it wouldn’t have fit higher up. I suppose it’s part of their job to know these things.

V was right there with me. We were pleased that the artist had no problem with V being in the room, and even snapping pictures at her leisure for posterity. The outline was started. The pain was less than I had remembered. I settled in for it, since the design is rather large and I was booked for two hours. The outline didn’t take long. The most uncomfortable part was when she got up on the sides of my neck. Yowch. I was glad the bulk of it was lower down.

We took a break so I could check out the lines. It looked even better on my skin than it had on paper. I sat back down and she started the shading. There is a lot of black and the pain was significantly worse. I found that closing my eyes and zoning out on the pain was the best method of dealing with it. I was so glad to have V there with me. By the time my appointment was over she was only about half-way through the shading. There is a LOT of detail involved and thus it’s quite slow going.

I got to take a good look at it and it’s just gorgeous. She cleaned it up and of course went over all of the care instructions with me. I booked another appointment in June to get the rest of it finished. I was somewhat disappointed that it didn’t get totally done in one sitting, but my skin was raw and you can’t rush perfection after all.

We headed for my house. I only had to keep the bandage on for an hour and then V helped me clean and salve my fresh tattoo. Jack was quite impressed with it, although it was larger than what he had anticipated. He is not generally a fan of tattoos, but he liked this one on me.

V and I drove back into the city and I dropped her off at her place. Then it was time for me to head downtown to meet X at the Vicious Circle for a drink. I had a wonderful time with him. He has so many stories and I laughed so hard that my stomach was aching. I enjoy a good story teller and he is certainly one of the best I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

He and I eventually parted ways, and I drove over to The Rusty Cage to meet up with V and T, along with some other friends. I had a double gin with 7up and we danced for a while. I was tired however, the tattoo having used up most of my blood sugar and adrenalin for the day. I decided around midnight to take my leave, much to V’s disappointment.

Upon reaching my vehicle I discovered that I had locked my keys inside. FUCK! I called Jack who valiantly drove all the way to where I was and rescued me. We got home and crawled into bed, after he helped me cover my tattoo with Saran wrap. Don’t want ink all over my pristine white sheets.

Sunday morning we slept in and then did a bit of running around. It was a relaxed day, which I appreciated a great deal.

Thus far my tattoo is healing up beautifully. Keeping it clean and putting tattoo goo on it proves to be an exercise in extreme contortion. Generally I beg someone into assisting me if possible. I can hardly wait to go back and get it finished.

I am looking forward to this weekend, although I have nothing exciting planned. Q never did call me back, although V heard from him and he wasn’t able to join us Saturday due to other plans. I am unsure what to do next. V thinks that he misplaced or neglected to save my number, but why wouldn’t he just ask her for it? I dunno. I’ll likely just leave it be. We had one great night, that’s better than nothing, and I think now I can be content about it.

I hope that everyone is enjoying their week! Tomorrow is Thursday and I will likely have some HNT to put up, finally. Just haven’t been in the mood recently, especially since some people seem to think that posting photos online is somehow my way of begging for validation. Do I come off that way really? I certainly didn’t intend to.

At any rate, good night and sleep well!

Most of us ladies have at least heard about the Pocket Rocket at one time or another. It’s gotten quite a lot of press for such a basic, almost boring toy. Taking it out of the package generously sent to me from Love-Shop I was skeptical. How great could this toy be? It sort of looks like one of those cheap mini flashlights. With only three speed settings I was gearing up for a ho-hum masturbation session.

I couldn’t have been more wrong!

For such a small and simple clitoral vibrator, this thing packs a punch. You can either use it with the hard-plastic ‘cap’ covered with nubbins, or you can use it as is, which is a flat top complete with three metal bumps. I found the plastic cap too hard, it hurt my bits, but the regular top with the metal bumps was perfectly comfortable.

I found the three speeds to be adequate, and running this vibrator over my labia felt exquisite! For those of you who enjoy a very concentrated vibration without penetration, this toy is for you. It’s also fantastic for nipples, testicles, perineum area, and around the outside of the anus.

This toy didn’t have to stay long between my legs before pushing me over the edge. I had a wonderful orgasm, and my wrist/fingers/arm wasn’t sore from having to manipulate a heavy toy. Being so small and light, this vibrator can go with you anywhere! It will fit in a purse, or a make-up bag. Unless someone looks at it closely it can pass as the aforementioned flashlight.

Cleaning it made me a little nervous. It’s not waterproof and there are some areas, especially around those metal bumps, in which bacteria could breed. My best suggestion in to take a Q-Tip and dip it into adult toy cleaner or even an anti-bacterial cleanser approved for cleaning body piercings (such as Bactine) and then use the Q-Tip to thoroughly clean the end of this toy. Leave it to air-dry if necessary and remember to take out the batteries before you put it away.

I can see this toy becoming one of my favorites for clitoral stimulation during sex. The control is super easy to use which is nice in the dark or when you are in a hurry and don’t want to fiddle around with 8 different settings. I am thinking this will make a great gift for some of my favorite women!

This Product Receives:

I want to know 28 things about you. I don’t care if we’ve never talked, never liked each other, or if we already know everything about each other. Copy and Paste this into the comments section and tell me all about you.

1. Your Middle Name:
2. Age:
3. Single or Taken:
4. Favourite Movie:
5. Favourite Song or Album:
6. Favourite Band/Artist:
7. Dirty or Clean:
8. Tattoos and/or Piercings:
9. Do we know each other outside of this blog?
10. What’s your philosophy on life?
11. Is the bottle half-full or half-empty?
12. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?
13. What is your favourite memory of us?
14. What is your favourite guilty pleasure?
15. Tell me one odd/interesting fact about you:
16. You can have three wishes (for yourself, so forget all the ‘world peace etc’ malarkey) - what are they :
17. Can we get together and make a cake?
18. Which country is your spiritual home?
19. What is your big weakness?
20. Do you think I’m a good person?
21. What was your best/favourite subject at school:
22. Describe your accent:
23. If you could change anything about me, would you?
24. What do you wear to sleep?
25. Trousers or skirts?
26. Cigarettes or alcohol?
27. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together?
28. Will you repost this so I can fill it out for you?

Sometimes I get some pretty interesting comments on my blog, although that is to be expected with this sort of subject matter.

It’s been a while, I was starting to miss those special anons. You know the ones I am talking about.

As a blogger who doesn’t take blogging seriously, I don’t care when people don’t agree with me. It doesn’t bother me when they call me selfish or horrid or a slut. People are free to have any old opinion they like. Just as I am free to have mine.

Blogging does require a certain amount of vulnerability. However, I warn that if you are going to open yourself up to people, you’d better have hide like an alligator. Often people will attempt to be hurtful or cruel to you. That is a part of life. If you can’t take it, you’d best blog about something safe and neutral.

Either that or don’t allow comments.

I have always left comments turned on. Only once in the history of this blog have I deleted a comment (that doesn’t include the spam ones I’ve removed). I enjoy and appreciate comments, even from people who think I am an awful person. I want people to have a reaction when they read this writing. Good, bad, or indifferent. I like that my words make people feel something, even if it’s loathing. Words have incredible power, and it pleases me to know that mine have an effect on people. When someone comments it shows me that they felt something strongly enough to give me some of their time and leave a thought here. That’s really awesome in my opinion.

One recent commenter stated that they intend to refer people to this blog in order to show them how NOT to live/be/act. I say that’s fantastic. I’ve fucked up plenty in my life, and over the past year or so especially. If even one person can learn from my mistakes and save themselves some sadness/upset, it makes this blog even more worthwhile. Even though it was not intended as such, I am going to take that statement as a compliment. If I can help someone else through my downfalls, it thrills me to no end. It also expands the purpose of this blog beyond just being a personal space for me. It makes it worth that much more.

Whether people read me and love it or read me and hate it, at least they are reading.

This blog will always be for me first. I would never be bothered to update if I was just doing it for my readers (gone down that path a couple of times already). Writing brings me great joy, it’s one of my favorite hobbies. That is my greatest motivation.

Recently I’ve started an old-fashioned paper journal as well. Sometimes I just want to write down my thoughts without opening myself up to feedback from other people. I don’t expect that over time all of my writing will end up in that book rather than here, but one never knows. I like to think that this blog will be around for a long time to come.

While I don’t ever intend to turn off the comments, I am considering moderating them. If only because the spam-artists are slowly getting the better of the word verification and other security measures. Quite a number of blogs have had to go that route, which is annoying, but a fact of Internet life I suppose. If comments ever go to moderated, that will be why, not because I want to discourage people from commenting.

I wish everyone a good evening. Details about my weekend to follow.

Gah, one more day until I get my tattoo! I can hardly wait I was thinking about it last night before I fell asleep. This tattoo is going to be large, and pretty visible. Do I really want to put something like that on my body? It’s forever, and I like to really consider these sorts of thing deeply before I go ahead.

Obviously I have decided that ink is an important part of me, as is the person this tattoo represents. I am getting this tattoo for V, as a physical representation of all that she means to me and everything we have been through. I know she is there for me always, she’s my girl, she’s got my back. I look forward to explaining this significant meaning to people when they inquire about my body art.

She is going to be there with me tomorrow, of course. Just as she always is when I need her.

Eventually she will have a tattoo for me as well. A gorgeous koi fish, because I love them so much and because they remind her of me.

After the tattoo I get to accomplish one more of my resolutions for 2007. My friend X and I are meeting for a pint downtown somewhere. I am really looking forward to it. I suspect there will be a certain amount of sexual tension there.

I plan to round off the night at The Rusty Cage, having a few drinks with my friends and dancing into the wee hours. I am going to wear my grey suede skirt That should attract some attention. Tee Hee

Can’t wait! See you all on Sunday

Ok, I need some advice again.

The second time in a week, I must be losing my skills with men, LOL.

So Q and I had a good time (from my perspective) on the weekend. I want to see him again, but I didn’t want to seem too over-eager.

I called him yesterday afternoon to ask him if he wanted to come out on Saturday night with me and a bunch of other people (for that Birthday Party I mentioned here the other day).

He wasn’t home so I left him a message and asked him to give me a call back either way (if he wanted to come or not).

I haven’t heard from him yet which to me feels…I dunno, odd.

It wouldn’t be a problem, except, I really like him. A lot.

The fact that I am moving right away is extra depressing in this case because I’ve just now realised how great he is and nothing is going to come of it.

Do you think that there is weirdness now and he’s no longer interested? Am I being crazy? Should I just never bother calling him again? Should I call him to see if he actually got the message?

BAH! Why can’t I just NOT care if he’s rejecting me in a spineless and immature way?!?

I adore the fresh, clean smell of the countryside after it rains. This week I arranged for the kids and I to spend a few days well away from the city. We drove a couple of hours out to the farm, just to get away from hassles associated with the move. I’ve had it up to here with realtors and lawyers and moving companies.

It rained shortly before we arrived, and as I was packing our things into the farmhouse I just paused to enjoy the clear air and all the nature sounds.

The kids adore it out here. There is so much to see and do. Miles of grass and trees filled with all manner of fascinating plants and animals. The birds are making their nests in the trees and in the houses provided for them. There are lambs and foals and calves running amok. Flowers are blooming and I’ve seen some of the first hummingbirds of the season gathering at the feeders.

I just love spring.

Evening walks as the sun goes down, or watching the horses grazing in the warm afternoons. These are the sorts of things I miss the most. I grew up in the country, out on the farm, surrounded by animals of every shape and size. I rode horses, sometimes hours a day, skipping my homework to escape down one of the familiar trails atop my young gelding. There were cows to chase and eggs to pick, dogs to play with and kittens to catch (if you could, the farm cats were 3/4 wild). Most people would not consider mucking out a barn any fun at all, but I used to like doing it because taking care of animals is something I have always enjoyed.

Summers were spent between the pool in town and wandering through the dense wooded lands around the farm. We dug worms for the chickens and harassed the evil rooster to no end. There were elaborate games of ‘Cowboys and Indians’ played for hours in the trees. Picnic lunches down by the river followed by skipping stones and catching frogs. We raided the garden and ate fresh peas and carrots. There was a near constant supply of homemade bread and cinnamon buns.

In the winter there was skating and riding in the sleigh behind the big horses, their harnesses heavily decorated with bells. We would go tobogganing, although there were no hills so the sled was tied to the back of a ski-doo and we’d be pulled around that field at speeds that would terrify most parents these days. There was hot chocolate and fudge on snow. Christmas baking that would feed an army, and chopping down our very own Christmas tree. Snow forts and playing hide and seek in the bale yard. There was certainly no shortage of things to do, no matter what the season.

I have memories too numerous to count, I lived a highly spoiled life.

I want my children to experience a little bit of that before we leave. Since Jack is working out of town off and on I’ve taken a lot of time to indulge in getting away from it all. Packing up the kids for a few days in the country is just what we all needed right now. They miss their dad a great deal, and I could use the distraction. Sleeping in a ‘strange’ bed alone is preferable to sleeping in my own bed alone.

I am enjoying the time for myself. I’ve had a life-long love affair with the countryside and it’s nice to be in a place that feels more like ‘home’ than the city. This morning I stood out on the front porch, a fine cup of coffee in hand, and stared out over the mountains. The air was crisp and cool, and there was hardly a breeze. I could have stood there for hours…

I’ve taken loads of photos. Mostly of my kids enjoying all that the farm has to offer. I want them to have memories to look back on as well.

Anyway, I don’t have much time. I snuck off to an area with wireless Internet access in order to post this, leaving the children in the capable care of their grandmother. I must get back. I hope all of you are enjoying your week.

The clouds looked quite menacing, but we decided to brave the weather and go camping anyway. To make the rest of the story easier to tell, I will reveal the ‘identity’ of the mysterious man I asked to join me. Some of you will remember him as Q. If you have no idea who I am talking about, you can read about him in the following posts (listed chronologically from past to present):

How I met Q

A date we went on

Running into him at a bar

Running into him at another bar (it seems to be a trend with us)

Anyway, despite my initial disinterest in him, recently I’ve been thinking of him and attraction sort of grew over time. I was quite thrilled that he accepted my invitation to go camping.

He and I drove out together on Sunday afternoon. We had a really good time on the way out, I did a good part of the talking, but I learned a few new things about him. It’s rather strange because we have a sense of familiarity about each other, but I really don’t know him very well.

We arrived at the camping area, which is not an actual camp site, it’s a piece of land owned by V’s family that lies well outside of the city. It’s basically a large clearing within a larger cluster of trees. Bordered on all sides by farm land, it has no electricity or running water. I like it that way, because my idea of camping means roughing it.

It was too muddy to drive right into the clearing, so we parked on higher ground and walked down the muddy ‘road’ to where everyone else was gathered around the fire pit. I’ll tell you it was a precarious walk. It’s a slight hill, and I nearly slipped and fell half a dozen times. Q and I were going to be sleeping on a mattress in the back of my van, since I was in no mood to assemble our enormous tent for one night. I was not looking forward to stumbling up the hill in a drunken blur at the end of the night, LOL.

Did I mention it was raining?

It started about 15 minutes after we arrived and didn’t stop until well after we left the next day.

The men (K, V’s brother, Q, and a few other guys) gathered the wood for the fire. V, a friend of hers, and I prepared supper. I grilled some meat on the BBQ and they made campfire pizzas. Everyone ate, and drank, and we were all in pretty good spirits considering we were soaking wet.

We built a ‘ghetto’ out of tarps and umbrellas around the fire. Everyone settled in and had some beverages. All in all it was a good time. Cold and wet and muddy, but good none the less. We laughed a lot, I took some pictures, V bailed hardcore in the mud, and I almost fell into the fire pit. I enjoyed cuddling with Q by the fire, and K did rather well not acting weird about it. I did catch a few looks from him, that are best described as somewhat irritated. However, all in all I felt that he handled himself well.

I didn’t drink very much because I knew I was going to have to make my way up the hill to go to bed. Around midnight I decided I was done with the rain and the mud and excused myself to bed. Q joined me and we found our way back to the van. Stripping down in the rain was interesting. I didn’t want to crawl into bed with wet clothes on, so I just took them off and then climbed under the covers as fast as possible. I kept on my underwear and a tank top. Q jumped in beside me in his boxers and a shirt. We cuddled up for body heat and before long I could feel my toes again, LOL.

We talked for some time, and then there was kissing, and groping, and removal of clothing. The foreplay lasted an impressively long time. I enjoy a man who is not in a hurry to fuck. He touched me all over, commenting several times on how soft my skin is, and how good it felt against his. He was quite vocal (meaning he made plenty of noises that let me know he was enjoying himself) and I appreciate that a great deal during sex. I dislike it when a man is quiet, it makes me feel like he’s not into it.

He loved my dreads and when he wrapped a handful of them in his fist and pulled my head back to expose my neck, I nearly melted.

His job is physically demanding and phew! The biceps on the man are enough to make me weak in the knees. His back is toned and the muscles are tight under his skin. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm *Drool*

When I ran my hand up the inside of his thigh, brushing past his cock and up his stomach he was quivering with anticipation. I enjoyed teasing him before I finally allowed him his reward.

I still marvel at how relaxed he was, totally unrushed. He obviously enjoys the sensual and passionate experience of physical intimacy, rather than the main event.

Eventually neither of us could stand it any longer, he pulled me over on top of him and pushed me down onto his cock. It felt…amazing [and yes, we used a condom, there was no question about that].

Unlike some experiences I’ve had, we fell into a comfortable rhythm immediately. I was somewhat concerned that my van might roll forward into the car parked in front of us, LOL. I didn’t put on the parking brake, and I probably should have.

He loved it when I squeezed my muscles around his shaft. Even though I dislike being on top, I have been told I am quite incredible at it. I do this thing where I ’scoop’ my pelvis while I am rocking my hips at the same time, and it seems to rub most guys just the right way. I know it drives Jack wild, and Q was no different in that sense.

He took his turn thrusting from beneath me. That was pretty wild, because he did it in such away I thought I might actually cum from intercourse alone.

I liked how he pulled me to him and kissed me hard while we fucked.

He was getting close, I could tell because his breathing changed and so I increased my efforts and he came with several loud gasps/grunts/bellows. It was excellent.

After we had both recuperated he held me close and I fell asleep.

We woke up the next morning to snow caked on the windows of the van.

SNOW!

I was not looking forward to jumping outside for my regular morning pee.

We stayed in the nice warm van as long as possible. Eventually I heard someone bang on the hood, so I opened the side door and poked my head out. K informed me that people were up at the camp site (everyone else camped in tents and trailers in the clearing). I told him we’d be down as soon as we got dressed.

After forcing myself into cold and still damp clothing, we made our way down the now-treacherous hill. Cleaning up and packing of stuff ensued. It took us a number of hours in the snow and mud to get everything put away and carried up to the vehicles.

Then there was the matter of V’s cousin (not sure that they are related, I am guessing). He had driven his truck into the clearing at the beginning of the weekend, before the rain. Now there was a considerable bog between his vehicle and the top of the hill where the ground was firm.

Idea #1 - Hook the truck up to an old bronco that serves as the ‘farm truck’. Have people sit on the tailgate of the truck, and on the hood of the bronco to provide extra weight and traction. Take a run at the hill and see if the bronco can pull the truck through the muddy hole.

Guess where I was. That’s right, on the hood of the bronco, holding onto the windshield wiper for dear life. V’s friend (another girl) was up there with me, holding on to me for dear life. It was scary, but fun. V’s brother was driving the bronco, and he accelerated up the hill. It was not a smooth ride, and I was sure we were both going to fall off.

The rope snapped just as the truck was going through the muddiest part. The truck was stuck. The men jumped off the tailgate and pushed the truck backwards out of the mud.

Idea #2 - The boys sat on the tailgate again and V’s cousin took a good run at the bog. It didn’t look like he was going to make it. The tires were caked in several inches of mud. He kept going, the truck kept moving, ever slowly, up the hill. Us girls stood there cheering.

Success! Everyone got out and I headed back into the city to drop of Q and a load of camping stuff that I hauled out for V.

I bid Q a good bye and asked him if I could see him again. He said yes with a grin. I said that I hoped he had a good time, despite the weather. He assured me that he had and departed after a quick kiss.

I made it home, cold, wet, muddy, and stinking like campfire. Jack just looked at me and laughed.

Showering felt SOOOO good. I washed my dreads well with some new Knotty Boy Dread Shampoo that I picked up. Dreads easily pick up smells (like normal hair). Unlike normal hair it’s harder to get the smell out. Most people suggest you try to protect your dreads when you are in an odorous environment. Wear a toque or other hat. The shampoo I got is awesome. It smells like tea tree oil and peppermint. I was relieved that it got the camping smell out of them completely.

Despite the icky weather, the weekend was fun. I am glad I invited Q out. I hope he really did enjoy himself as much as I did.

This weekend is my TATTOO!!! I am so excited I can hardly stand it. Afterwards V and some friends are going out for a birthday bash, I’ve been invited along by the birthday girl. They are headed to a club in the city, and I am thinking if my neck isn’t too sore I will join them. If I am too uncomfortable I might just see if some friends want to do coffee or drinks in a quiet pub.

I’ll keep you posted! I hope all of my wonderful readers and friends had a great weekend. I’ve got some really cool reviews coming up so stay tuned!

I have three words to describe last night’s camping experience:

Cold [and I mean frigidly cold]

Wet [not in the sexy way, in the snow/rain way]

Dirty [as in covered with mud and dirt]

However, there were some high points. Curling up at night with a very attractive and well-built man being one of them.

Adding another name to my list of conquests being another

Details to come…