for nofan.. on our 4 year anniversary

poema 20
Poema 20
Pablo Neruda

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: " La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos".

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.


*****
Poem 20
Pablo Neruda(Trans. W.S. Merwin)

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, “The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.”

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms,
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
And these the last verses that I write for her.

i got dumped by text message today...

Inbox Message 7
From: George (aka bassfisherboy)
Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I can't see you again, not that i didn't have fun, but i met this girl and i just feel something is right about it.
6:16pm 1/27/05

Outbox Message 10
To: George
Awesome! Good luck, Negative style points for telling me via textmsg tho.
Sent 1/27/05
6:20 pm

Inbox Message 8
From: George
K I KNOW
6:20pm 1/27/05

Outbox Msg 11
To: George
Tho, bonus points for having the cajones to say anything at all. No hard feelings, Really. Good luck.
Sent 1/27/05
6:26pm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did i honestly just thank someone for ending a casual fling via text message? Is am i so jaded by nitwits like TallTwat that this has become acceptable behavior to me?!?!

Maybe i should hang out with the widower some more. At least he'd do the letedowns by phone, or even email!

Roofied. No, Really.

I think someone roofied me on Tuesday night.

No, really.

In case it’s not clear, I’m a girl who can hold her liquor. Lots of it. I’ve been known to drink an entire bottle of vodka all by my lonesome and still function.

Not so Tuesday night.

I decided to go out with Mr. wankinterrupter. I rushed home from work, showered, shined, shaved and headed out to meet him at my local neighborhood dive bar.

I swear, I had no more than 4 mixed drinks and a HORRIBLE shot. Dear bartender – a top shelf kamikaze is NOT vodka and grand marnier. Yes, there most definitely is sour mix in there.

I should have known something was wrong with me when I actually thought it would be a good idea to try karaoke. One pitiful attempt at whitegirl rapping like eminem, and suddenly it was time to go home. On the way out to the car, I was having trouble walking. Mr. Wankinterrupter tried to help me out but he was pretty shithoused also, so some nice cute boys stepped in to assist me. They tried to talk me into ditching him, and taking them home instead. I demurred. I think the new phone number stored in my phone might be one of them, however.

I made it the 3 blocks home, and that’s when the real fun started. We’re talking, puking for hours, unable to stand up, skinning my knees falling down repeatedly, bruises on my cheeks from running into doorframes… DEATH WARMED OVER.

I know I didn’t have dinner, but there’s NO WAY IN HELL I should have been that sick.

Blech, my tummy STILL hurts just thinking about it. I called in sick to work yesterday and slept until 4:30 in the afternoon! Goddamn was I ill.

I’m supposed to be staying in with Mr. Pinchmynipples tonight. Dinner and a movie. And undoubtedly lots of pressure to fool around.

Let’s see how I hold up!

self-coitus interruptus

So, every once in a while, I masturbate. I guess I just keep hoping that one of these days, I’ll actually be able to get myself off. No dice so far.

Yesterday I was a new and special kind of horny. I’ve reactivated my profile on bondage.com and have been getting a number of emails. I began instant messaging with a Dom from NY state, and things quickly got hot and heavy.

I found myself at the local head shop on the way home, purchasing a large red vibrating dong (complete with balls) and a mini buttplug.

“You know, when I worked at the sex toy shop, I always wondered how to end the sale transaction, because it feels awefully odd to say ‘have a nice day’ to someone who just bought toys. OF COURSE THEY’RE GOING TO HAVE A NICE DAY!” I said, to the very amused shop guys. We shared a big giggle.

Quick stop for batteries, then BAM I’m home. I slowly gather everything I need.
Towel? Check.
Toys? Check.
Computer pointed to bondage.com stories? Check.
Naked? Check.
Clothespins? Check.

And suddenly, there’s a knock at my door. Not quite sure who it is, but realizing my car is parked in front of the door they are knocking on and every light in the place is on, I slip on a bathrobe and answer the door.

Awesome. It’s the random guy I brought home with me in a drunken stupor the week before. See, we had tentative plans for the evening, but he said he would call during the day to confirm, so I figured he was bailing on me. I was fine with that, not having any burning desire to see him again.

“I lost your number!” he said, peeking around me and trying to edge his way in the door.

Seriously dude. Scattered on the kitchen table just out of his view were the wrappings from all of the spoils of the evening. And into the living room, there’s a little masturbation party for one setup. For some reason, I’m not inviting you in!

He makes a bunch of attempts to invite himself in, but I tell him, no, I’m sorry, I’m exhausted, I just need to rest tonight, I thought you weren’t showing, and I’m already all settled in…

I finally give him my number again and shoo him off so I can head back to my little den of sin and self-pleasure.

Note to self, and anyone else who might be interested: Cinnamon toothpaste burns more than the mint kind when applied to mucous membranes.

And no, I still didn’t manage to make myself come.

snowed in orgie.

You couldn't guess who called today.

Yes, folks, the widower. Tonight is a nor'easter here in New England. FEET of snow, and somehow i found myself snowed in with Maggie.

Well, by somehow, I mean, I picked her up friday night and kidnapped her for the weekend. I'm birdsitting for nofan, so wanted some company. Who is Maggie, you ask?

Maggie is the girl nofan dated (and by dated we mean picked up drunk and fooled around with his brother's ex fuckbuddy) just before he met me. When I met Maggie, i desperately wanted to hate her. Instead, i found a girl who is a fuck of a lot of fun. She has amazing knockers, drinks like a fish, and dances like a stripper. When we were hanging out all the time, we started calling ourselves 'magica' because we are so similar in a lot of ways (mostly sexual openness and flirtatousness). Well, except she's CRAZY. Like, not alright in the head crazy. She gets monsterously drunk and cries all the time, dosen't know what is appropriate to discuss in what company, is a demanding bitch who orders you around then cheats on you behind your back...

She also happens to be 'not bisexual, just into erica.'

She started the weekend off talking about how it was going to be 'full of debuachery' and i knew i was in trouble. So I called in ASCOTW, I gave him his first threesome, and was in the mood to give him his second. Monkey wrench – Mags decided to invite her ex-boyfriend out to visit us. AWESOME.

Ascotw phoned on his way over. When i told him the exboyfriend was here he nearly turned back. I had to assure him there wouldn't be any trouble. Poor kid. There must be something about this town nofan lives in, because ASCOTW can't catch a break. He said his favorite moment was Mags walking up to him, drunk, and just saying, 'You know I can't, right?' I tried to show him another favorite moment, attempting to suck his soul out after Mags passed out. In nofans bed.

Anyway, while we all slept off our hangovers, the rest of the world prepared for the upcoming storm. Mags decided that her storm preparations wouldn't include food or such, but a tongue peircing and booze.

So on the way to the bodypeircing studio my phone rings. Mags picks it up and says, 'it's the WIDOWER!' I'm so surprised i fumble and drop the phone 2 times. When i finally manage to answer it, i'm flustered.
...
Oh wait, I never told you guys. The week after the fire, i called everyone i knew, including the widower. We made coffee plans, which he called to change to lunch plans on another day. When that day arrives, he phones again, with a sob story about having to cancel, and reschedule to dinner that saturday night. The friday before, I'm sitting in my office when my cell phone rings. Its him.
'i was just wondering why you hadn't called to cancel for tomorrow yet!' i said, answering the phone. I hear a big sigh, and just know.
'yes, erica. I'm just not ready. I'm training so hard for this fight, and...'
I cut him off. Ok, fine, widower. I have to go.' and flipped the phone closed. I sort of figured I'd never hear from him again. flash forward to today, driving in the beginning of a nor'easter.
...

'kitten,' he greets me, instantly making me smile. We share some idle chatter and then he gets down to it, 'So, kitten, I'm taking my mom out for an early dinner, and will be coming right through your town on the way home. I was wondering...'
'if you could get a bootycall?' i asked, almost sickeningly sweet.
It's quickly determined that this won't work out, seeing as i'm not home, and it also becomes clear i've made him uncomfortable calling a rose a rose.
I hang up the phone, mumbling something like 'give me a call, we'll make plans, or um, not make plans, or um...' lamely trying (and failing) to convey that even though he stands me up constantly and probably is more trouble than i can stand, somehow, i still wonder if he might not be worth putting up with his shit while he gets over his wife's death.

Oh well, Guess i'm just snowed in with booze, bud, boobies and a 9 inch cock. Holdon, maggie's calling me upstairs now...

A pinch of salt

Toby brings up some interesting points in his comments regarding my return to the 'sportfuckin' foray.

He wrote:

You wrote;

> (I know I said I’m done with casual sex. I’m not.
> I’m still looking for the man of my dreams, but
> right now I need some distraction. Anything to take
> the flames, the smoke, the soot, the pain, the fact
> that I no longer have anything I owned…. Bear with
> me. Plus, I question my mental stability and ability
> to be a girlfriend right now.)

I might be completely wrong, but I think these are all good reasons, not real reasons. I'm concerned that the real reason is the same as it always has been; insecurity, and a longing to be loved.

Deliberately and consciously stopping doing something (casual sex in this case) which is driven by such powerful needs is *very* hard, and it may just be that this time you've not succeeded in making such a difficult and profound change in your lifestyle, and that there's a bunch of "good reasons" which let you let yourself off.

But I might be completely wrong, and it is a very personal and complicated matter, and I only know you through a weblog. So take everything with a pinch of salt.



I wonder this myself, and often. I will be the first to admit that I, although often introspective and mostly honest with myself, am not always the keenest on understanding the REAL reasons I do things.

Years of headshrinking, almost as many years of attempts at brain meds, and it all comes back to this:

I do what I want to do. Damnit.

I do what i feel i NEED to do. Right now I feel like I need to get off, and often. I'm going through a hypersexual phase. I'm no shrink - but i bet its all elaborate distraction.

A distraction from what, you say?

A distraction from some of the pain that I'm in - physically, mentally, emotionally.

A distraction from having to make an excel spreadsheet detailing every item I owned, its age, and replacement value.

A distraction from the charred remains of my childhood stuffed rabbit, ynnub tibbar and his fire scortched fur and missing eyes my father so lovingly tried to restore for me.

A distraction from going home nightly to a home that is mine, yet oddly contains NONE of my stuff.

A distraction from the vision - that comes back almost nightly, of opening the door to see the wall of flames.

A distraction from the guilt and pain in thinking about Lucy the parrot and Magners the guinea pig and making little velvet lined shoebox coffins for their charred lifeless bodies. From the pain of having to tell their owners, who had entrusted me with their care, the story of how I could not save them.

A distraction from the guilt and pain that's going on in my family right now. My cousin and her husband seem to think I have it easy - I just move, and heal, and get all new stuff, while they have to deal with rebuilding. My cousin actually told me she was mad at me for going to their house on new years eve looking "like a million bucks" when she had been dealing with contractors all day, and freaking out and stressed out... I looked like a fucking million bucks? What, with my singed hairline, missing eyelashes, and second degree burns? Sure, I had some new clothes on - THATS BECAUSE I HAD NOTHING!

So... Long bitching and moaning story short... Casual sex for me right now is a distraction. I've decided that one of the things that was bothering me before was I was acquiescing to have casual sex, when what I really wanted was more. I knew I wanted more and thought I was ready.

Right now, one thing I am sure of is i am NOT ready for a serious relationship. Although it would be nice to have someone to call home, i am not myself right now. I'm dealing with some pretty heavy stuff - or at least trying to distract myself from it =] so I just need to not seek the impossible.

And that, TOBY, is why I'm ok with casual sex right now. In fact, I'm MORE than ok with it.

I'm reveling in it.

So, boys - BRING IT ON!!!!!!

also

I'm glad my blog can be informative and educating...

Found with the following search.

BassFisherBoy is FUN!

Hey out there. I’m still fuckin and fightin. Alive and kicking.

There’s a new player in rotation, boys and girls.

(I know I said I’m done with casual sex. I’m not. I’m still looking for the man of my dreams, but right now I need some distraction. Anything to take the flames, the smoke, the soot, the pain, the fact that I no longer have anything I owned…. Bear with me. Plus, I question my mental stability and ability to be a girlfriend right now.)

So about a week or so ago I had to drive to the town my mother lives in to pick up all the clothes that the drycleaner had to OZONE to get the stench out. I called my mother to see what she was up to, and OH JOY! She’s out drinking. I figure I need a drink, so I join her.

I spend the evening hanging out with her, flirting with her friends and a very cute lawyer from her office. He heads home, and the real fun begins. Seems like every guy in the bar emerges out of the woodwork and starts hitting on me, yet I keep buying my own drinks. How does that work again?

OH! Yeah! I also ran into the original dissapperaing act! Turns out dude number two wasn’t really him. 

I wound up taking home this fairly cute guy. He told me later he’d hit on me at least 3 other times at that same bar (of course, none of which I remember). I guess all you ladies out there can blame me for teaching these men that persistence pays off!

We had some mediocre sex, and just about no conversation. All I know about him is his name, and that he works at a restaurant. Oh, and he fucks FOR HOURS. Gave him my number, and I get peppered with tons of ‘do you want me to come over tonight? “the other night was really hot, when can we hang out again!”

So, two nights ago I had a little itch so scratch, so I took him up on the offer. We had some more hot sex – some of it in the shower! FUN FUN!

We also talked a little. He’s apparently also a professional bass fisherman. Heh.

Today I noticed that he had spelled out on my refrigerator in magnet letters

George is fun.

I’d have to agree. Yes, yes, I would.

recent search terms used to find me

- skinnybitch
- fuckfoul


I'm amused.

scars for sure.

hey now.

I think i should start writing here again. I feel good getting some of this shit out of my head and out into cyberspace for all y'all to enjoy. I trust you do, on occasion. Plus, i recently let a new victim erm, i mean acquaintance read this and he commented about my being a good writer, so there it is. Thusly decreed.

Updates:
Stuff from the fire is healing. My face is completely fine, minus the lack of eyelashes. The burns on my hand are deep and nasty looking, but healing well. There will be scars, i have no doubt.
Insurance should cover most of the things I lost. It will be a hassle, however. The way the policy is written, I had to produce a list of every item i lost in the fire, its replacement cost, and its age. I will then be cut a check for the “DEPRECIATED REPLACEMENT VALUE” at which point, should i choose to replace the item with an EXACT replacement, I can fork over the difference myself, then submit the receipts for reimbursement. Check your policies – this is a terrible hassle. Speaking of policies – if you rent, you do have renter's insurance, don't you? Stupid cheap, and I'm very lucky I had it. I would have NOTHING right now.
Work has been amazing – being totally understanding my my psycho self, telling me to take time whenever I need it. My boss is coordinating donations of things for my new apartment, including picking up, delivering, and carrying in, as well as accepting offers and polite non thanks. It's amazing. The good thing to come out of all of this is a slight restoration of my faith in humankind.
OK, now for the kinky stuff (HORRAY!)

So for a week or so before the holidays I had a boyfriend. It was um, awesome (if you know the ass spanking champion of the world, you know in just what tone to read that phrase)! I met him one night out at the bar when i was ALMOST as drunk as my mother, who was making out with some creepy old lawyer (who let ME buy him two drinks, the fuck). It was great.
He's tall, (6'6”) and really handsome – he had two different colored eyes! One was an amazing hazel with gold flecks the other just an awesome grey. I took him home with me, making some huge show of telling him “i'm not going to sleep with you!” and proceeded to jump him post-haste. I was ready to chalk it up to drunken bar-foo, but he was all about saying he wanted to see me again and date and not have it be a one night thing.
Random facts revealed to me over the 1.5 week relationship (mostly towards the end)
1.While having sex:
“feel those lumps? I had a vasectomy. My family thought it would be the right choice for me. Why do you look so confused?”
“well, usually only guys who are married and have had all their kids get fixed.” SUDDEN SINKING STOMACH. “wait, you don't have kids, do you?”
“yes.”
“um, how many?”
“enough for now...”
“Are you married?”
“no” So we go about our business – which, might I add he is FANTASTIC at.
2. The next day i text msg him asking “so, how many kids is enough for now, how old and what are their names?” You could have bowled me over with a feather when he told me 4, ranging in age from 2 to 11 and all with trendy stupid spelled names like jaxyn.
3. He never mentioned them before that day because “i never asked.”
4. Apparently, suddenly dropping off the face of the earth when your new girlfriend nearly perishes in a housefire by not answering calls, text messages, or instant messages is acceptable as long as you have 'some serious shit going on with lawyers and don't want to drag her into it.”
5. Also acceptable is after ignoring her calls and voicemails and messages, to offer said explanation only after she sends you the nastiest IM suggesting that she hopes someone treats you as sub-humanely in the near future, especially if its followed up with saying, 'i did it for your benefit, I have to go.. I 'll call you later tonight.'
6. Best of all and highly desirable is to pass your cell phone around the bar after she messages just asking whats up, to let all your friends message her explicit questions about blowjob skills, how much of slut she is, and then also allow them to ring her to make fun of her.

Needless to say, I'm all done with that.

The day after the fire, i ran into Torch... the dude to whom i gave my virginity. Oh wait, Ive never told that story here? Short version:
I was 17 years old and had just reconnected with my boyfriend from 6th grade (whom I hadn't seen since). We talked on the phone for HOURS a night for a week or so. On christmas eve, during a blizzard, he asked me 'if i come over there right now will you fuck me?' 'of course,' i said, thinking the hour (3 am) the snow (6 inches and falling)or his transportation status (no car) would save me. Apparently 6 miles is NOT too far for a horny 18 year old to ride his bmx, even during a christmas morning snowstorm! I figured after that effort there was no way I could say no. We fucked under the christmas tree, my mother asleep upstairs.
Anyway, imagine my surprise to walk around the corner in walmart to meet my father in line, only to find him talking to this dude I haven't seen in a decade or more. They had struck up friendly conversation, unbeknownst to eachother the ties.... I gave Torch my number and thought I wouldn't hear from him.
Was i ever wrong. We struck up a conversation on Saturday night when i was out drinking to distract myself from my cableless, internetless apartment. Imagine my surprise to find out hes into BDSM also, and even more of my surprise to find myself driving to his house in the middle of the night to have my ass beaten like a red headed stepchild. I can still barely sit without wincing.

And lastly, but not leastly – THE FIREMAN.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, i've decided an important part of my healing process is to personally thank each member of the fire department who put out the blaze. No, seriously tho...

A month or two before the fire I started emailing with a guy i met on match,com. Imagine my surprise when he found my ad on adult friend finder. He was psyched, and persistent about meeting. It just never worked out, even after he got a job working in the town I was living in as an firefighter. A few days after the fire, it dawned on me to see if he had been working that night. It just so happened he wasn't, but we struck up a conversation nonetheless. Turns out hes kinky and funny and smart and charming!

I met him tonight for dinner, and we tried our best to behave but lets just say i spent a good portion of the evening moaning and writhing around his nicely curved cock.

YUM.