I Walked into the Room Dripping in Gold

Reading something today about someone being stood up reminded me of something that happened almost a decade ago.

I had recently gone through a turbulent, traumatic breakup, and while I was starting to get over it, it still colored my feelings about sex and relationships. It did not, however, kill my libido. So, given that it was the new millennium, I decided finally to try my hand at looking for casual hookups online.

The results were a mixed bag; mostly drive by messages that amounted to “fuk now?”, one guy who rejected me and then messaged me again because he couldn’t be bothered to keep track of women he had already written to, women looking for threesomes to please their male partners, and one person I met and found there was utterly no chemistry with. Oh, and the one person who sent me an email by guessing that my email would be the same as my AFF username, asking if I was interested in a gangbang. Fortunately, I used a username I have never used before or since, with an email only used for that AFF account.

However. I did find almost what I was looking for. Smart, funny, capable of writing grammatically correct smutty conversation, looking for a casual fuckbuddy. Or, at least, that last bit should have been the idea. We emailed furiously for about two weeks of him putting off meeting for reasonable reasons (accidentally double booking me with going out with friends to see a blockbuster movie in the theater, work, finals) before I let go of hope that the reasonable reasons were real reasons, and that we would in fact meet.

I’ve no idea why he never actually met with me. Perhaps he was looking to cheat on a partner, or was only interested in the fantasy of a woman wanting to meet with him to fuck his brains out. Maybe he was afraid that the only sort of woman who’d be on a hookup site was nuts. I even pondered the idea that he had created a persona based on a friend; he dropped enough information, that as a single woman considering fucking a stranger on first meet, I went to find proof of who he was, or at least claimed to be. I sent the information to a close friend just in case, on the day that we were first supposed to meet.

I remember quite clearly an evening, when after emailing back and forth, I told him I would be at a particular coffee shop doing some work, and he should swing by. It was one of those make it or break it moments where I knew that if he couldn’t manage to make the time he said was possible, it would never happen. Obviously, the only thing that came of that night was my completing my work and finishing off a cup of coffee and a pastry.

Oddly, the incident, while annoying that I wasn’t going to get laid, buoyed me. I found it encouraging that I was confident enough to go after what I wanted, even if I didn’t ultimately get it in that case. I knew that what I wanted was out there, and obtainable.

My one regret is that that email address got deactivated, as I wouldn’t mind seeing if my memories of how hot the messages were matched up to how well they’ve aged.


Midweek Media: The Jacked-in Edition

Y’all want some hot, sexy story time? Too goddamn bad, KB and I have both been sick in turns for over a month now, and since neither of us have a snot fetish, the hottest thing going is chicken soup.

So let me awkwardly tie together some of the media I’ve been enjoying lately. I mentioned in a previous post that I picked up a copy of Neuromancer (while at a sci-fi/fantasy focused con, as I might also have mentioned that I am a big nerd) and have been reading it on and off. It’s pretty much meat and potatoes cyberpunk, with the requisite fetisization of Japan, sex, drugs, violence and cyberspace that sounds a lot like the Vegas strip with more people wearing leather jackets and mirrored shades. I only consider it better than Snow Crash because Snow Crash has some extremely dense, repetitive exposition, and I’m not all that nutty about how a lot of male sci-fi authors write rather creepily about young teenage girls. Which is a shame because YT is one of the best cyberpunk characters I’ve run across. If nothing else, the opening chapter of Snow Crash is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever read, and I love the uncomfortably close to reality franchise states and burbclaves. One of my great regrets of missed apparel is not having bought the Cosa Nostra Pizza shirt when ThinkGeek had it.

Coincidentally, I also recently ran across the NewRetroWave channel on YouTube, and I’ve been enjoying their focus on 80’s style retro electro, some of it more Miami Vice, some of it more Max Headroom. (1) One of the things from it I’ve really been enjoying the hell out of is Scandroid’s eponymous album. It is delightfully cheesy in a way that I find essential to good cyberpunk.

As a young lassie being trained for the technological dystopia rushing at us, I naturally played a lot of video games, and very much enjoy chiptune, the musical genre that fills of us who are old enough to remember 8-bit video games, with nostalgia. I can’t express how ridiculously delightful it is to see people making music by rewiring old gameboys, and that Kraftwerk once used a Nintendo Power Glove to make MIDI music. No, seriously, that last fact makes me as giddy as if I were in the Tour de France. (2) My current favorite is Chipzel, and I spend a lot of time listening to her album Spectra.

If you enjoy roguelike dungeons and beat matching games, Crypt of the Necrodancer has been really well received as a hybrid of the two, and Chipzel put out a remix album of the soundtrack.

I also really love the soundtrack to the game Open Hexagon. I don’t want to talk about the game. I REALLY don’t want to talk about Super Hexagon. *sulks*

I’ve also been replaying Final Fantasy VII (I’m pretty sure I scared off a twitter follower who followed for mean femdom and was like “WTF is this nerd shit?!”) and the beginning of the game is pretty classic urban dystopia. Shinra drops a whole goddamn section of the city on the slum dwellers for … some squiffy reasons about blaming the group trying to blow up their reactors. It’s a fun game, and generally emotionally effective, but the plotting is frequently silly and the dialogue is… I like to be kind and blame its general awfulness on the bad translation work. I’m really curious to see if they do a complete rewrite or just a better translation for the remake.

Finally, I’ve been watching a lot of Star Trek: Voyager. The Doctor is my faaaaaavorite. Neelix is the Jar Jar. Janeway is a fine captain whose sense of humor and warmth are lowkey but present. I always thought that Riker was a low rent Kirk, but it turns out that Tom Paris is a low rent Riker. Harry Kim is a precious cinnamon roll and also functionally The Redshirt Who Survives. B’Elanna is #lifegoals (given that Kira Nerys is on DS9). These opinions are 100% correct. I could try to something something utopian goals/dystopia sci-fi something something to tie it in, but I just like Star Trek.

(1)I had to pause here in writing to look up on IMDB what Matt Frewer is doing these days… awww dammit, I really am going to end up watching Orphan Black, aren’t I?


Excitate Vos E Somno, Liberi Fatali

I am a giant nerd. Not because I’m a vast compendium of knowledge about a STEM subject, or a particular brand of geeky pop culture (both of those things are more descriptive of KillBoy), but because of the nerdy things I love. I don’t pretend that I like them for any high minded reasons and I don’t feel the need to excuse them as guilty pleasures. I am very much not at all a fan of the idea of enjoying things “ironically”… what kind of sneering asshole or insecure jackass does that?

Media that is both well put together and makes me think is appreciated, but I’m not about to pretend that everything I enjoy is somehow intellectually oriented. Though as a side note, none of it is beyond criticism. Sometimes I have to wince my way through bits of media that are more full of prejudiced content than a Hot Topic has Nightmare Before Christmas branded merchandise before I can get back to enjoying it. On the other hand, I thoroughly enjoyed all the things about Rogue One and Fury Road that make brodudes on Twitter mad.

Sometimes I just want to shoot radscorpions, read romance novels in which the heroine is skilled in elemental based magic, watch Hellraiser for the nth time, or drive my darling property up the wall by demanding he stat out a housecat sized dragon character for me to play in our tabletop game merely because the whim took me. My favorite JRPG is Breath of Fire III. While the game is better than, say, Paper Mario, on thematic content that’s deeper than just saving the world/princess/MacGuffin, it’s mostly just fun. There’s fishing! You can turn into a dragon! There’s a bunny girl scientist and an animate onion! It’s weird as shit, brightly colored, and the soundtrack is jazzy and fun.

While I’d be happy to go to an opera and hit up a stage musical not too long ago, I’m the kind of broad who would be more impressed by an invite to a symphonic performance of the work of Nobuo Uematsu.

I don’t think that nerdery makes me particularly unusual: geekiness has become a mainstream thing as a wide swath of the population now plays some form of video games (candy crush doesn’t exactly use a deck of cards), a ridiculous amount of money and star power gets poured into blockbuster comic book movies (MCU 4 lyfe!) and an astrophysicist (Neil DeGrasse Tyson) has 6.5 million twitter followers

Right now I’m going through a serious bout of PS1 nostalgia and listening to various game OSTs on YouTube. It’s actually led me to remember a few games I haven’t thought of in years, like Azure Dreams and Legend of Legaia. The former ended up being so damaged by a bad removal of dating sim aspects that it literally had no ending, but I’ve put as many hours into playing with the monster tower as any game. The latter was incredibly hideous visually, even by the standards of the day, but had one of the most fun, interesting combat systems of the day in its genre. These are good memories for me, even if they haven’t always aged well.

Screw the the roses and the thorns. Just give me a footrub and be able to debate me on which Final Fantasy game was the best and don’t touch my dice or GTFO.


There Are No Incurable Ills, There Are No Unkillable Thrills

I recently picked up a copy of Neuromancer, which has what is regarded to be a particularly fine, if dated, opening sentence. “The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.”

I read it aloud to KillBoy, who immediately agreed that he could see why people love that particular opener, and mused that it reminds me of another opening sentence I favor. “The great grey beast February had eaten Harvey Swick alive”

While it’s perhaps not the fault of that traditionally dreary month that I have had more than a few weeks that tip the scales at more bad than good, I can agree I feel eaten alive. Work has been a clusterfuck, my anxiety has pretty much got me locked down and is affecting my relationship with KB, and I’m just now getting over a nasty cold I’ve had for over a week. So I’m going to blame February. It’s Feb 38th, right?

At least my darling husband is here to deliver me a little warmth.Upon hearing that I had a particularly bad day at work, he sprang into action to grab a bottle of wine and suggested that he take me out for sushi for dinner. It was exactly what I needed. The fish was so good tonight that I shushed him while I closed my eyes and chewed a particularly fantastic piece of salmon.

Back at home, evil pants shucked, I’m drinking the wine while listening to the Final Fantasy 8 OST, farting around on the internet and trying to decide on a fashion upper-body harness for when we make an amazon order later tonight. I’ve got a more utilitarian one picked out for him, but from an etsy seller. With any luck I’ll be able to order it before the summer kink con we’ll be attending.

Sometimes February and my state of mind are both grey, but his service and love are there to keep me running.


Where the Love Light Gleams

I’ve been drifting away from my family, particularly extended family, for some time. It’s not acrimonious. I simply find that more and more, I can’t smile and nod my way through another story about some fine mess they’ve gotten themselves into, or listen to the more conservative branch of the family tell horrifying dehumanizing “jokes”, at least not more than once or twice a year. Christmas with the family was particularly strained and trying this year, as they were in top form in regards to that in many ways.

Unfortunately, I have always loved the christmas spirit, adored the food and merriment and gift giving. Gift getting ain’t bad, but given the string of years in which my family saw fit to give me those dancing and singing gag gift toys, it’s not about expecting great presents.

I tried getting a little of the old magic in place, but everything felt hurried, family christmas was awful, KillBoy has feelings about the season that make him a little… flat about the whole thing, and I ended up feeling miserable.

Sometimes I forget that I’m terrible at being my own little island. While not an extrovert, I can be particularly susceptible to loneliness and feeling unwanted. I don’t really want to spend tons of time with my family of origin, but it’d be nice if they actually missed me.

What I really need is chosen family, and I do have a friend group that feels like I have a gaggle of close cousins. I ended up volunteering my home for my friend group so that we can bid adieu to this horrifying fucking year together, and I already feel much better for the planning of it. We’ve already started discussing who is bringing what of food and drink, and the fact that others are excited about the gathering is a soothing balm to my soul

With me less out of sorts, I’m very much hoping that this week will see me using the sap gloves he gave me as my gift. Sneaky boy remembered me saying that I wanted some longer than I remembered having said it!

Midweek Media: Whistle While You Work

If you’ve seen Kill Bill, you’re probably familiar with the whistling tune that gets repeated throughout. The internet tells me that it also got played on American Horror Story, and that it was written by Bernard Hermann for a British horror movie named Twisted Nerve.

It’s quite an earworm for me, including today when I heard this while driving to work:

As it turns out, this is not the only time it’s been sampled in rap, Cayman Cline used it in “Crowns” a couple of years ago.

I’m really enjoying this Glen Chaos instrumental version with added beats

And finally, of the samples/covers I’ve found and enjoyed, here are a pair of danced up versions


We’re Pulling in on Every Rope We’ve Thrown.

It is sometimes incredibly awful to be an adult with responsibilities. Like a few days ago when KillBoy came home from a half day at work just as I was leaving for work. Knowing I’m leaving my sweetheart behind for the treadmill timesuck that is my job is never an easy thing, but this particular time was especially difficult.

After greeting me with a kiss and letting me know there were tater tots in the lunch he’d brought home, he flopped down in the recliner. I went to the kitchen and ate half the tots while we talked about dinner that night. When I came back to the living room, he was all sprawled out over the chair with his shirt mostly unbuttoned. I know he had to have felt me giving him the once over and the look that said I’d strip and take him… if only I had time.

However, since neither of us is rich and there are bills to pay, I had to put my shoes on and head out the door. The image of him indolently enjoying his surprise shortened day kept me somewhat warmer of disposition throughout my workday, though with a touch of annoyance over how I was there resisting strangling my least favorite coworker instead of putting my hands on KillBoy’s body.

And of course, by the time I got home I was annoyed and dog tired, so that sex or play were off the table. A lot of days are like that. We plan to break out the toys and dress him up in fishnet and cuffs, but by the time our responsibilities are done with, we’re out of time or energy.

Still, I know myself to be incredibly lucky, to have the partner who is interested in building the domestic life that brings us comfort, who gets into my brain and swims around, who makes me feel loved and comfortable when I am weary.

Lucky too to have him when I’m feeling more energetic. Next time I’ll remember to put the toys away before opening the door to the maintenance guy. Chain makes way too much noise when you try to discreetly kick it under furniture.