I'm back.

I'm back in freezing cold NYC and I'd be lying if I said I was happy about it. Travelling is one of My greatest passions, but I've always loved coming back. New York is My home. But today, I'm thinking that living somewhere that the temp never dips below 70 degrees might not be a bad thing. I have the beginnings of a chest cold, so I headed over to Katz's for chicken noodle soup with a matzoh ball. I flipped through the Village Voice and found a column written by Rachel Kramer Bussel, Lusty Lady. I've never met her, but she is one of those people who knows many of the same people that I do and we travel just out of orbit of eachother. I linked to her personal site over on the blogroll ages ago and can't recall how I found her. Today I read over the archive of her columns and was particularly entertained by the one about Betty Dodson. Though I firmly do not believe in monogamy (for Myself, I know many people just can't handle it), I've never liked the word polyamory either and her attitude toward RKB & her lover was so very similar to the way I felt about N & C.

The Strict Babysitter: sounds like a roleplay, but it isn't

Ironic as it might seem, I never think of Myself as a disciplinarian or strict with the kids. In fact, I've always sort of thought Myself a pushover. I'm pretty free with them as long as they aren't putting themselves in danger of being hurt or disobeying their parent's orders. But maybe I take their parent's instructions more seriously than their parents do. We had a brief incident on the beach today that I feel badly about. The kids, their dad & I had gone swimming and were about to walk back to their hotel. The girl asked her dad to carry her sandals. He said no and told her to carry them herself. She whined and wheedled a bit. I repeated his carry them yourself with a somewhat final tone. I hadn't realized that he had relented and agreed already and I was still insisting that she carry them herself. It was momentarily awkward. Later that evening, she commented to Me, "You aren't like Daddy. When you say no, you mean it, he can be convinced if you just keep asking." I felt terrible, if amused. I think their parents are amazing parents. The kids are polite, smart, generally well-behaved and kind. 99.9% of the time our views are completely in line on how to treat and deal with children. The mom and I both seethed on the plane when we saw a couple hitting & sharply shushing their infant for crying.

For those of you bored to tears with the kid stuff, here's a link that jimmybob sent to Me today.

The boring vacay blog continues

Life, or at least journals, are always this way. When things are happening and interesting, there's not time to record or reflect; whereas when I have nothing but time, I don't really have all that much to say. The outgoing message on My cellphone while I am away says, "I am out of town & range for the holidays. Anything you have to say can be emailed to Me." It seems that this was an open invitation to TWO different slaves who have been out of touch for over six months to email Me. Odd. This afternoon, the Mom and I reminisced about a grouper sandwich we each last had nearly 7 years ago at the Ocean Club on Paradise Island. It must have been a damn good sandwich to stick out in both of our minds. But then that was a pretty amazing vacation overall. Besides the mindnumbing fact that My room at the resort nightly cost about the same as My monthly rent at the time, I had it in My mind that they had gone there to conceive their second child and I made it a mission to give them as much alone time as possible. Of course, what none of us knew, was that she was pregnant before we even left New York. The girl was only 18 months old then and so very easy to amuse, look there are trucks going by! Hey, that's grass under your bare feet!

The Nanny Diaries, volume 2

So, it is nine months later and I am back at Rendezvous Bay in Anguilla. The boy is fine, if a touch sunburnt from our first day on the beach. I spent the morning and early afternoon with the kids, but had the later afternoon and evening off, as well as free reign with the rental car. Their dad asked if I'd be going out tonight and I think he was disappointed when I said I'd just be tucking in with the new Kellerman novel I picked up this morning and finished just before I began this entry. It was great in that trashy thriller kind of way. I spent the afternoon driving around, checking out the shops I've frequented in the past, dropping off My laundry (I don't think I've ever been prepared enough not to travel with a bag of clothes needing to be washed) and attempting to get a manicure. Unfortunately, today's activities do not make for the most exciting reading. Now that the dsl is finally up in My room, I'm sure there'll be more to follow.

Loose Ends....

The boy should be fine. Thanks for all your kind and supportive thoughts. He's been admitted and will probably be kept for observation for a few days. Hopefully he will be entirely OK and we will still go to Anguilla for Christmas.

I worked the door for Leda's Rubbercat event over at Opaline again tonight. It was freezy-cold outside but people still made it out. I, of course, wore the full-length mink and was toasty warm.

Responsibility has been claimed for the lovely mules I received as an anonymous gift. It was jimmybob. He is quite sweet, as well as a fun and creative play partner. I look forward to playing with him for a long time. At My request, he sent Me a few one paragraph sketches of roleplay scenarios that he would like to explore with Me. Some of them are terrific! Details for you, once I've decided which one I am making a reality for him.

The boy is sick

There are few things in the world as unnerving as arriving to work to find that My bosses and their younger child have just left for the hospital in an ambulance. The boy is sick. Obscenely high fever and a seizure. I'm so scared. I love him so much. His parents are intelligent, informed and in a position to get him the best care possible, so I know "everything will be fine." But sitting here alone in their apartment I'm wavering between taking care of the things I came in to do today, running up to the hospital or chainsmoking in the hallway.

Brunch with the man who made Me a geekboy's dreamgirl

I had brunch over at 9th Street Market yesterday with one of my oldest friends, Jeff. I hadn't been there is a couple of years, but I assure you, the french toast is still sublime. Jeff is just good company. I can't believe I've known him since I was 14 or 15. He is angry, bitter, sarcastic and a total riot. He is the one responsible (I may have written about this before) for making Me seem like a geekboy dreamgirl back in HS & college. He turned Me onto ska and taught Me about comix. In return, I shaved his head regularly and fuck, I dunno whatelse I brought to the relationship other than always arriving at his mom's house just in time for dinner and six hours of bitching and whining over caffeine and nicotine. I'm just glad we are still in eachother's lives. After brunch we embarked on the buy Jeff new sneakers crusade. He shops like a girl. He didn't even like anything we saw at the first 6 stores, then when he was finally willing and ready to try on a pair, they didn't have his size. When we finally settled on a pair of black leather nikes, we bickered about whether he should wear them out of the store. I think we frightened the poor sales girl. I then introduced him to the ridiculous decadence of Cold Stone Creamery. Cake batter flavored ice cream. I need say no more about the product, but if you are into public humiliation, this a jackpot situation. The staff is required to SING each time they receive a tip. Not just the person at the register and not just a one liner, an entire song!

The show is on, gift received and others cancelled

I spent this afternoon preparing and printing the catalogue/price list for Ekko's show at Arena. The opening was this evening and I feel it went well. I made a new friend, who was wearing this ring, which I am now lusting over madly. Go on, tell Me it isn't hot, I dare you. I drank ridiculous amounts of coffee tonight, so perhaps I will finally do some actual work on the Octavia Arena site which is still pitifully bare. Oh, so the wishlist books that I was so excited about receiving have been cancelled! How rude! Telling Me that you are all about financial domination and then ending our correspondence and cancelling a gift order because I sent you a pay-to-view email? Whatever. But I am dissappointed about not getting the Traig book. On the other end of the spectrum is the pair of mules that I actually received from My wishlist without a note! Generous soul, step forward and claim your thanks.

WORK Work work

Lest you think I am always lounging around in My corset, I figured I'd share some of My latest accomplishments with you. Hey speaking of corset, I recently added Stormy Leather's "Lusty Octavia" corset to My (no, I can't believe it is available there either) Amazon wishlist. I'm not so self-involved as to think it was named for Me, but it does literally have My name on it. I put together a banner for the Arena Collective site:

I'm kinda proud, it is only My second animated gif. I've also been doing some promotion for Ekko's show "Fleeting Moments" which opens this friday.

My Mafia Fetish or Killing My Client

I've been so busy doing sessions, that I haven't had a chance to write about them! My most recent session of note was a series of roleplay vingettes. Over the course of an hour I tortured and killed My client six different ways. He said he'd seen Me about 6 or 7 years ago, but I didn't remember him at all. Which is odd, because his scene is right up My alley. I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I have a total mafia fetish. So several of our scenes were mafia related. The first one started with him on the table, coming to as if he'd been knocked out, while I was binding his wrists and ankles. The scenario was that he'd been busted skimming money from My "family's" operations. I beat him with a hammer and simulated removing his thumbs with a wire cutter, after all, I told him he wouldn't be counting money again. Another scene had Me as a new-in-town saloon hooker in the wild west and him as the owner, a family man, as he told me. In that one I pistol whipped him and "shot" him. Each death was accompanied by groans and him eventually going completely limp. Our final scene had Me as a thrill serial killer who had been torturing him for weeks and was finally going to kill him. I thrust a plastic bag in his mouth as a gag and ran a serrated knife across many delicate spots on his body. I pulled the bag out and put it over his head. Each time he breathed in it clung to his face. I allowed him to masturbate while he was gasping for more air inside the bag. I slapped him very hard across the face and told him this was going to be the very last orgasm of his life, but if he didn't come by the time I counted to ten, he was going to lose that priviledge. He came just as I said "nine."