Archive for April, 2010

The following post is a joint effort between myself, and a good friend of mine, and fellow blogger, Chrissarella.  We talk about this all the time.  Sometimes in public.  See?  You totally want to follow us on Twitter now, don’t you?

Lori:

Overheard a conversation once that just had me laughing my ass off, and shaking my head all at the same time.

A coworker was all in a tizzy because she saw something that apparently (in her eyes, anyhow) was the end of the freaking world. She witnessed something so heinous, so scandalous… I’m truly amazed that she came out of it alive, and is probably still in therapy to help her through the case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that surely ensued.

What did she witness that had her shaking with bewilderment and distress, you may ask? Well, it seems that she walked in on her husband while he was in a compromising position. No, he wasn’t cheating, although to hear her tell it, he may as well have been. She walked in on him while he was masturbating.

She couldn’t fathom why he would do such a thing when he is married.

It was everything I could do not to go up to her and just flick her on the forehead.

I listened intently wondering what the person she was talking to would say. It wasn’t like I was eavesdropping, as I had come upon the conversation and been waved into it. I then had to bite my tongue yet AGAIN when coworker number two actually commiserated with her, and then had the gall to say, “My husband doesn’t masturbate! Why would he?”

They asked me what I thought, and my only question was to ask if either of them ever masturbated.

~blank looks, all around~

Of course they both said no.  Because we all know no one ever masturbates.  Right?  Right?

I walked away laughing.

C’mon. What kind of idiot thinks that just because they are in a relationship that masturbation becomes a thing of the past? What would bring someone to that conclusion? Masturbation rules, man.  Let’s face it – whether you’re a male or a female, in a relationship for not – masturbation is one of life’s greatest things!

There is no worrying about someone else’s feelings, no concern about giving someone else pleasure. It’s all about you. And if you are good at getting yourself off, then you can make good and goddamned sure that your lover is good at getting you off too.

And who doesn’t want to get off?

I couldn’t imagine not masturbating whenever I felt like it. Masturbation is a GOOD thing, people! It’s natural! It’s fun! And if you weren’t supposed to do it once you got into a relationship, your arms would magically shrink so that you couldn’t reach anymore. You’d be able to tell just by looking at someone that they were in a relationship, because their hands would be sprouting directly from their elbows.

It’s called playing with yourself because you’re supposed to enjoy it.

Chrissa:

I’d like to know where this idea of masturbation being a dirty compromising thing came from. Give me a fucking break. Wait, no don’t give me a “fucking” break. I’ve had a break from that for way too long.  I have to admit, my head is usually in some sweet deep gutter somewhere, where all that tension builds.  I don’t know about you, but finding an outlet for that can take the boring out of any day.

I feel a tad bit sorrowful for these coworkers and their husbands. Can you imagine what their sex lives must be like?  No wonder the husband was caught. He has to be bored with the typical “hop on pop” and be done attitude. Do these women even know what an orgasm feels like?   Personally if I walked in on a significant other pleasing themselves, I’d want nothing more than to be involved. Haven’t they heard of foreplay?  Watching can be just as teasing.

But aside from the fun of playing with a partner, what about when you are alone? Not just single, but if they are away for a week. A day. An hour.  The mood is as unpredictable as the weather.  Umm, yeah, you can let it simmer until they are back.  Or, you could possibly draw it out. Help yourself. Think of it as priming yourself for the real deal.

If those women would pull the sticks out of their asses they might find a whole new use for those bed springs.  Or the kitchen table.

And with that, I think I have a few toys that might be getting lonely.

~*~*~

In closing, Chrissa and I would like to tell you all to go fuck yourselves.

And this time?  We mean it in a nice way.

Chrissarella can be found on Twitter, and her collaborative blog The Offensive Reality, as well as on her brand new (and stellar) personal blog, A Little Wicked.  Thanks, Chrissa!

Further reading: Try More Solo Sex for Better Partner Play, Jenny Block (Fox News)

What do you think of when you think of a hero?

Spandex tights and a cape?  The ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound?  Maybe just a great car and some really awesome things hanging from a utility belt?  Wait, it’s the invisible jet and bullet-proof jewelry, right?

Yes?  No?

I see heroes every day of my life, and not one of them drive a bat mobile.

…The girl who hasn’t had the easiest of lives. It would be so simple for her to just say ‘screw it’ and be bitter and hate the world for the hand that she got dealt. Instead, she chooses to support and uplift those that she cares about. And she does it even when she’s not having the best of days.

…The guy that, out of nowhere, sends a couple of messages to someone just to check on their well-being. Sure, it’s a simple gesture, but it’s one that somehow, through all of the bullshit that comes down on people every day, this guy remembers to extend.  Not just with his hand, but his heart.

…The woman who’s fighting to hang onto herself, despite the turmoil that’s going on inside. Trying to figure out where she’s going, without looking back at the pain of where she might have been; she’s trudging through the dark without a flashlight, but she refuses to believe that the middle ground doesn’t exist ahead, somewhere.

…The man who is willing to share the weight of someone else’s world because he doesn’t want to see the people that he cares about suffer the load alone. The one that will stand and take a hit just so someone else doesn’t get bruised. The one that is that way just because… well, because he is.

…The rare people whom you trust to be there, no matter what. The ones that you never have to look for, because you know just where they are. The ones that live within you, just as much as they live in your world. The ones that make you unafraid to fall, because you know without a doubt that they will be there to catch you.

These people may not look like heroes.
They may or may not look good in tights.
I don’t really need to know that, frankly.

If you passed them on the street, maybe nothing about them would scream out at you that they practice heroism in their daily lives. Maybe to you, they would be just another face in the crowd, another body taking up space on the planet.

But to someone, they are so much more than that.

To someone, she is an inspiration.

To someone, he is calming.

To someone, she is a powerhouse.

To someone, he is a light.

To someone, they are everything.

To someone, they are heroes.
Every one.

Look around you.

Have you seen your heroes, or have you looked past them?

Have you thanked the heroes in your life?

I’m thanking mine.  Without them, I wouldn’t be here.

Welcome indeed.

Yesterday, I attended my first ever Star Trek event, with my best friend.  I’d dragged her along, and while she did occasionally have a poke or two of fun at me, I know she enjoyed herself.

The event was not held in a big city, in a fancy high-tech venue.  It was not attended by VIPs, and there were no celebrities to be found, save for one.

Yesterday, Spock came home to Vulcan.

Vulcan is a tiny town.  It’s the kind of place where if you order a Coke in the diner, it still comes to you in a can.

With a total population of about 1900 people, this little town’s population probably doubled yesterday in the midst of the hoopla that was Leonard Nimoy’s first – and probably last, as he is retiring from such things – visit to Vulcan.  We encountered people as local as Ensign (yes, that is actually another town) and from as far away as Germany.

With the exception of the people elbow-smashing their way through the crowd to get close to Mr. Nimoy, the fans that we met that had come in to attend the event were great.

This isn’t really about the people that came to visit the small town of Vulcan, though.  This is about the people that live there, and what these people did to make what was likely to be an interesting day one of the most stellar days that I can remember.

Pay what you can.

As soon as we pulled up to park in front of the hardware store, we saw a sign that you wouldn’t find in many places any more.  Advertising the movie marathon that was to take place yesterday evening, the sign simply said “Pay what you can.”  I know from experience that if you walk through the doors and have nothing more to offer but a smile, you would have been welcomed inside.

School projects decorate the town.

There wasn’t a shop along main street that didn’t have some kind of Star Trek decoration in it.  There were the standard cardboard cutouts of the characters.  But it wasn’t those that captured the imagination of the tourists.  It was the handmade artwork of the elementary school kids that really stood out.  Each student at the school had been asked to draw or paint a picture that was to be displayed along main street.  And each window displayed them.

Councilwoman Trekkie.

We stepped into one of those ‘has everything’ kind of stores that you can only find in a small town now.  What we found was one of the town council members selling baked goodies, in full Star Trek uniform.  She’d been up baking in her pajamas early that morning to make sure that anyone who popped in to the store could satisfy their sweet tooth with something other than a chocolate bar.

As we continued to wander in and out of the shops, it was the same everywhere.  We saw the townspeople in uniform, doing everything within their power to make us feel… special.

Personal collection, made public.

The Star Trek museum wasn’t something that you’d completely lose your head over.  It was simply a large room off the themed gift shop.  It was loaded to the hilt with every imaginable (and some unimaginable) Star Trek collectible that you could think of.  Again, though, it wasn’t the fact that it was small, or the fact that it wasn’t as ‘good’ as what you might see at a full-out convention that struck me.  This entire collection had come from one man that had willed it to the Town of Vulcan after his death.  A huge Trek fan, he’d wanted everyone to be able to enjoy the fruits of his life’s passion.

Vulcan Town Council

It wasn’t until later that I’d found out that in order to assist with the extra staffing needs for the day, that the entire town council – in uniform, of course – had been the ones assisting the museum/gift shop staff for the day to make sure that everyone who wanted to hear the town’s stories heard them.  They also made sure that the tribble supply was well stocked.

There were no admission fees.  Not anywhere.

It’s not like the town Of Vulcan has the huge budget of a big city to invest in such things as a Star Trek function.  There were no laser shows; there was not a high-tech gadget display, and there were no self-important speeches from local dignitaries.  There was nothing that would have told you that the people of the town of Vulcan had spent their winter snow-removal budget to pull this thing off.  In fact it was clear they did no such thing.  In Alberta, that’s not feasible.

But this so-small-you-could-miss-it town, so full of charm and warm smiles, managed to capture the altruistic nature of Star Trek in a way that I’m not sure a different venue could have.  For the day, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. And the few attended the needs of the many with selfless grace and honour.

Yesterday, I was proud to be an Albertan.
Yesterday, I was proud to be Star Trek fan.

And yesterday, I have never been happier to sign a guestbook.
Yep.
There was a guestbook.

I don’t know Leonard Nimoy. But if I was as touched as I was just attending as a fan, I can only imagine what it must have felt like for him, the very person that this whole day was dedicated to. If his voice during the ceremony was any indication, he felt the love.

I’d imagine it might have been like coming home, after a very long journey.

Thank you Vulcan.
Live long, and prosper.