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Friday, July 18, 2008
Both sides, now!
A week or so ago, I had a session with RHF, who I am renaming Hephaestus. After he caned me for my first time, a while back, I realized that there was a Place I wasn't quite getting to, a Place of catharsis and tears. A Place of release and cleansing. I was teetering on the edge of this Place when he caned me. When we talked about plans for last week's session, I decided that I wanted to fall over that edge. We agreed on a rough session, an "endurance" session, not so much about pleasure as about me allowing my limits on pain to be pushed, me taking what he gave.
I was already emotionally shaky, that day. There was a lot going on, and Apollo and I had been Talking quite a bit. I wondered if this was something I should be doing when I was already in an iffy place emotionally...but decided that the catharsis might be just what I needed. Hephaestus got me up on the cross, and he began. I can't remember the order. I can't remember everything he used on me. Nipple clamps were first, I remember. I was not crying yet. I remember the fierce little rubber flogger, so ticklish on my breasts and so unendurable on my back. He had me beg him to use something else. I begged him for the black thuddy flogger, begged him for that satisfying impact, that sure trip out to Liminal Space, out to Zen Pain Space, out of this blinding pain. My nose was running, and my eyes dripping. I was weeping as he continued to use that demonic little instrument on me. He eventually granted my request, and brought the black, thuddy flogger back out. For a moment, it was better. For a moment, it was ok. But, oh, my back was already so worn, so laced with pain, that even that became agony. There was the paddle. There were other, harsher floggers. There were more tears.
Then there was the moment when he told me to come, and I had to choke out, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't think I can." And I cried harder, for the realization. Me, not be able to come? It was unthinkable. But it was true. There was too much pain, too much turmoil, too much wild grief for my body to consider giving itself pleasure. I remember that I expected to be punished, though I didn't find it very fair, but he only went back to hitting me, with whatever he was using at the time. The last thing I remember was his braided flogger (I think it's a cat...I'm not certain) striking me...and suddenly, it really was too much. Too much crying, too much pain, too much emotion at once. I flashed my hands at him, our agreed-upon signal for STOP. He asked me, "I was going to end with three strokes of the cane. Can you do that?" What the hell, I thought, three with the cane. Can't make it any worse than it is already. Three biting strokes on my back, wrapping to leave raised lines on my arms, and it was over. I wanted to cry more, but it was over, so I didn't. I blew my nose, wiped my eyes, and laid on his bed, recovering. I was numb, but dangerously close to both laughter and tears. I left, eventually, and went home.
That night, Apollo wanted to have sex. I had been listening to my body, waiting for myself to click back into Normal Functioning Modes, wherein I am very present in my body, very desiring, and quite willing...but I wasn't there. The idea of sex was almost repugnant. Pleasure? In this body? This same space where all of That Pain happened? No, I did not want to be present in my body. It was a Bad Place, a place of endurance, a place of pain and tears, a place that had stopped functioning as I expected it to function. I couldn't. There are some Moods that can be pushed aside in deference to a partner's desire - headaches, tiredness, and the like. This was not one of those. I simply couldn't find it in myself to be touched. I had to tell him no. And tell him why. And that was hard, because it has been my goal to see to it that what I do with others doesn't affect our sex life (negatively, that is), and here it was, doing just that.
Now, a week and a substantial amount of processing later, I'm pretty ok with the fact that I'm not ready for that. That sort of play is more than I can handle right now -and that's alright. That's proper for me right now. But I do feel a little weak. A little failed. It was just pain, right? I should be able to take pain, right? It's not like it was humiliation or degradation play. It was just pain. But it was too much pain. And I Do Not Like how it made me feel afterwards, how I related to my body afterwards.
Side B: "Everything's Alright"
That night, I had a movie date with the Magician, the Cloaked Norseman, and CN's wife to watch Hellboy, in anticip......ation of the second one coming out. I went, expecting that we'd watch the movie, and for once, the Magician and I would essentially keep our hands off of each other, as I was so out of my body, so unwilling and unable to feel sensual pleasure. I was off. I knew it. I rubbed the Magician's back, played with his hair - usual movie-watching activities. But I felt closed-off. Cut off. As the movie progressed, this faded a bit. I faded, my issues and aches faded, into Story, into the images and characters. Still cut off, but time and Story were doing their work, helping me away from the pain.
The movie ended and CN and his wife left. The Magician led me back to his room, as was rather usual, as I tried to form the words to tell him that No, I can't connect like this tonight. In his embrace, I managed to whisper that I was feeling Off. Not Right. He asked why, and I shared that I'd had a bad session. That it was more than I could process properly. That the place right in the center of my solar plexus was in knots, and I wasn't connected to my body, and could he please just hold me and not expect more. This last part came as a shock. I realized that I felt safe. I was far enough away, in time and in mindset, from the experience that touch was healing, rather than oppressive.
He was so patient with me. His hands on my body, tracing my curves, avoiding overtly sexual touch. Brushing away the pain, the need to hold tight, the need to endure. Whispering in my ear that I am safe. Comfortable. Loved. It felt like a sacrament. It felt like a benediction. Slowly, wonderfully, he helped me settle back into my body, helped me feel it as safe, as sexual, as sacred again. I felt myself shine again.
The next day, he told me in an email that he'd thought of lyrics for me, which he should have sung last night, but were better late than never:
"Try not to get worried,
Try not to turn onto
Problems that upset you,
Oh, don't you know
Everything's alright,
Yes, everything's fine.
And [I] want you to sleep well tonight." - "Everything's Alright," Jesus Christ Superstar
Oh, perfect. A song of healing and anointing, of soothing the wounded spirit. Myrrh to my soul.
Bonus Track: "Love Me Two Times"
The Magician and I have progressed to having intercourse. This is a bit of a big deal. Right now, intercourse carries more weight than some other sexual acts. It carries more risks, and thus requires more caution and care. It is, for Apollo, a slightly more thorny issue as his emotions go. For these reasons, I will not ask about having intercourse with a partner unless I want it so badly that I cannot see straight. Otherwise, I'm perfectly content with less risky, less emotionally loaded acts. I'm easily pleased, I love skin, and I come easily. It's not difficult for me to be quite satisfied with something waay short of full-on penis-in-vagina fucking. But, sometimes, I want it. I do. And when I want it, I Really Want it. I want it because I'm comfortable. Because I'm safe. Because I find the other person incredibly hot and/or compelling. Once I want it this much, I'll talk to Apollo about it. It's not worth bringing up otherwise. Really, why push his comfort zone if it's not something I Really Want? That just doesn't make good sense.
So I asked. And we talked about it, and Apollo agreed. And, friends and readers, sex is a good, good thing. Sex is so unique. Sex is inescapably different with every different partner. Different angles and positions suddenly come into their own with the Magician, while some that I adore with Apollo take a back seat. Different internal spots emerge, trumpeting their own glory. Different sounds, different glances, different words whispered. I am astounded by the brilliance of the differences.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Musings on Kink, Power, and Accoutrements
I am, I believe, still primarily a bottom. But it was interesting to find what triggers the top in me, what pushes me to lose myself in action rather than reaction. And to observe how I top, what my goals and feelings about it are. Mm.
After I left Columbia and RHF's place, Apollo and I went to meet Church Goth Boy, hereafter Eldil, and his wife, hereafter Pomona, for dinner and gaming. Pizza, wine, ice cream and Munchkin made for a lovely night...then Eldil took me to his room (not like that you perverse people) to see the flogger he offered to loan to me (he found out, over lunch one day, that I was kinky and eager to learn to perform the skills I enjoy receiving). It's pretty. It's purple, and not too light, not too harsh. Not quite as spongy and thuddy as I'd like - but it'll do very well for a practice flogger.
Then he asked me, "How do you feel about collars?" "Um, well, I've only worn one once, for a very short time, when I was at my friend's house and she was showing me, very informally, all her tools...but they're something I'd like to explore..." Next thing I know, he's pulling a very plain black leather collar out of the closet, and telling me to turn around and lift my hair. As he fastens the collar and locks it, I feel the weight of subspace start to descend. Eldil is not a playmate. Since, to my knowledge, he is not poly, he will never be a playmate. As such, I should probably not let him put a collar on me again, even so informally. The weight descended, and my latent attraction to him rose. He commented on the fact that it fit me perfectly, where it's not quite right for Pomona, and proceeded to remark that I now had something new to wear to the upcoming fetish event.
"Oh...er, I don't want to appear as though I'm actually collared," I said. Really...I don't want to look as though I'm off-limits - that might spoil potential fun! "Well, you could turn the collar around so that the D-ring is out of sight, or you could attach a chain to the D-ring, then attach it to your own wrist, showing that you own yourself." My immediate reaction to this was, "That's what a fluffy sub would do! Someone who just wants to wear the pretties, not walk the walk that goes with them." But I've been thinking. I really like the idea, at this point in my exploration, of the collar, of my collar being first and foremost about my sovereignty over myself. My right to say where and how and to whom I give myself (of course, this is tied, at a higher level, to spirituality, with my first binding and commitment being to Deity - and I give myself in accordance with Her wishes for me). When I put it on myself, I am signaling that I am in control. When I permit someone else to put my collar on me (if I permit it - I have not yet decided), I have given that control willingly into their hands for a fixed time, a scene. I am not ready to commit my collar into the control of any one person, any one lover. Granted, once offered, any lover to whom it is offered will have the option to use it or not, as they see fit...but they are not the sole owners/users of my collar.
I feel, on some level, that I'm misusing the symbol that is the collar by making it about my own control and sovereignty (under Deity, of course). This, though, stems more from my fear of public opinion and what others will think about "that sub who owns herself" or "that sub who carries the key to her own collar" than about any personal objections. Hm. I'd appreciate thoughts on this.
On the note of personal sovereignty, a word about the Magician. In the midst of my kinky exploration, there is RHF and my Lovely Long Distance Friend/Mentor who are very much helping me explore what my submissive side is all about, helping me feel out my boundaries for giving up control, and helping me relish the sensation of surrender. By contrast, the Magician doesn't play power games. They don't interest or amuse him. He is all about sensation, and, more relevantly, about asking for what you want. In that sense, he is all about personal sovereignty and owning your own desires. And while it might be strange that I care so much for such diametrically opposed relationships, I care for them precisely because they are so different. They are causing me to grow in equally important, wonderful ways. RHF and My Mentor push me to learn about endurance, about giving up control, about taking what I'm given, and serving another's pleasure. The Magician pushes me to name my own desire, to search myself and ask boldly for what I want. He pushes me to find my voice, so often silenced in arousal, to give words to the longings in my heart and cunt. I am so very grateful to have this sort of balance in my life, in my exploration.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Lyric meme....
How has your day been?
"Hot town, summer in the city. Back of my neck gettin' dirty and gritty." - Lovin' Spoonful, "Summer in the City"
What's the status on your love life?
"Sisters, lovers, some of you must know about water brothers. And in time, maybe others." - CSNY, "Triad"
Have anything to say about your exes?
"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful beautiful. Beautiful boy[s]." - John Lennon, "Beautiful Boy"
"Don't forget what I told you; don't come around; I got my own hell to raise" - Fiona Apple, "Sleep to Dream"
Have a crush on anybody?
"Try to understand - try, try, try to understand - he's a magic man. Ahh, he's got magic hands." - Heart, "Magic Man"
"Send whips of opinion down my back, give me more. It's you I've waited my life to see." - Jeff Buckley, "Mojo Pin"
Do you drink?
"Pour me a glass of wine - talk deep into the night" - Over the Rhine, "Drunkard's Prayer"
What's your attitude like today?
"Everything under the Sun is in tune" - Pink Floyd, "Brain Damage/Eclipse"
Your idea of a fun time?
"I'm feeling devious/You're looking glamorous./ Let's get mischievous/and polyamorous/Wine and women and wonderful vices/Welcome to the cult of Dionysus" - The Orion Experience, "Cult of Dionysus"
Do you like your parents?
"Oh, my mama loves me. She loves me. She get down on her knees and hug me, oh she loves me like a rock. She rocked me like the Rock of Ages." - Paul Simon, "Loves Me Like a Rock"
"Sometimes I wanna rip out your throat, Daddy. For all those things you said that were mean. I'm gonna make you just as vulnerable as I was Daddy." - Jewel, "Daddy"
Morning or night person?
"My girl, my girl, don't lie to me - tell me where did you sleep last night?" - Leadbelly (via Nirvana), "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?"
Has anyone wronged you in the past?
"It always seems to me, sorry seems to be the hardest word" - Elton John, "Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word"
How old are you?
"Maybe she's 19 going on 30. Or maybe she's really 30 now, it's hard to say. Hard to keep up with time once it's on its way." - Ani Difranco, "Tambuitza Lingua"
Do you believe in God?
"Oh bless the Lord my soul. His Grace to thee proclaim. And all that is within me join to bless His holy Name." - Godspell, "Bless the Lord"
"Sancta Sophia, peace is born to thy victory. Athena Sophia, Thy will be done." - Cruxshadows, "Sophia"
"Remember the truth that once was spoken: To Love another person is to see the face of God!" - Les Miserables, "Finale"
Do you like to dress nice when you go out?
"Yes, I wore a slinky red thing - does that mean that I should spread?" - Tori Amos, "Me and a Gun"
Do you have any siblings?
"The papa said, 'Oy, if I get that boy, I'm gonna stick him in the house of detention'" - Simon and Garfunkle, "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard"
"The years spin by and now the boy is twenty. Though his dreams have lost some grandeur in coming true, there'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams, in plenty before the last revolving year is through." - Joni Mitchell, "The Circle Game"
Have you ever done drugs?
"Go ask Alice - I think she'll know" - Jefferson Airplane, "White Rabbit"
Are you a virgin?
"I can scream as loud as your last one, but I can't claim innocence." - Tori Amos, "Leather"
Do you have any secrets you want to tell now?
"Don't ask her for the water, cause you'll sink like a ship." - Ryan Adams, "Don't Ask for the Water"
"She is benediction. She is the addicted to thee. She is the root connection and she is connecting with he." - Patti Smith, "Dancing Barefoot"
Monday, June 2, 2008
In Which Joy Goes To A Party
Originally, when I heard about this (from the husband, hereafter Hedonist), I thought "Wow! That's a great opportunity to get Apollo out into this community...let him at least see some of what I've been enjoying." Because, as Hedonist explained to me, the parties are low pressure, high on consent. No one will be pressured to "participate" at all, much less to do anything beyond their comfort zone. And, unlike Jefferson and Adam's parties, He and Shedonist's parties are really Parties At Which Sex And BDSM Happen rather than Sex And BDSM Parties. Granted, most folks there are there for the sex-and-bdsm factor, to one degree or another...but you could also keep your clothes on all night and just stand around the bonfire talking. Of course, you might be talking to a naked girl...but you could just talk. So, I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to allow Apollo some exposure to the kink/non-monogamous community. We'd go together, observe, talk, and not play unless we both agreed to. It would be wonderful.
Too bad Apollo's job had him working this weekend. Fuck. Working both Saturday and Sunday, even, so no chance of even going for a bit, early on. Curses. And I had really been looking forward to it. He and Shedonist are wonderful people and hosts, so any chance to go to their lovely abode and partake of their hospitality was an opportunity I wanted to take. Especially as the Magician had offered to go with me, and my friend Ceres had urged me to go with her.
So I asked. Making it very clear that, since we had been thinking of this as an "us" event - something to give Apollo a chance to get integrated into What It Is I Am Doing - that I would absolutely Not Go if he had any objections. But he didn't. Granted, he wished he could go - but saw no reason for this to hold me back. So I went.
It was, according to all outside opinions, pretty tame as Those Parties (tm) go. There was no fucking on the coffee table, or around the bonfire (though, I'm sure the upstairs beds and couches saw some play). There was no blood drawn in the BDSM room. But, damn, it was a good time. As soon as the BDSM room was set up - the cross for impact play and the bench so the Magician could use his violet wand - I got a Crash Course In Topping, with Hedonist as the instructor and the Cloaked Norseman as my bottom. The last time I had been at He and Shedonist's abode, CN had informed me, in a voice that brooked no dispute, that at some point I needed to whip him. He evidently has a thing for being people's First Time Topping experiment. So I went through the gamut of instruments - the rubber flogger, to the deerskin, to the slapper, to the crop - and back to the deerskin, finishing with the bullhide flogger. It was fun. Not as fun as being hit with those things, but it was fun. I think I would have preferred fewer spectators for my first time topping - but so it goes. I wasn't aware that I had the ability to kindly request that they get the hell out of the room during my scene - but now I know. CN was very patient with me, giving his preferences when asked and letting me know how I was doing. I found the deerhide flogger to be very heavy - it has a helluva handle on it - and the weight combined with the length of it made it very difficult for me to control. Which resulted in quite a bit of wraparound. But, as first times go, it was fairly good, with only the requisite bit of Awkward.
After that, CN and I cuddled and bit (well, he bit me) while the Magician finished tormenting his first victim of the evening - a lovely, slender girl who seemed like she could come from the electricity alone. When she finally left the bench, the Magician asked if I'd like to take my turn on the cross. But of course! I stripped out of my shirt and bra, and mounted the cross, sliding my hands into the fantastic cuffs. He began with his rabbit skin flogger, which I'd never experienced before. Oh, it was delicious. I was a bit amazed at the satisfying amount of force - not pain, but force - which it can deliver. When he switched to the deerskin, I had been hovering on the edge - but now I flew. Off, off into the land of Liminality, of Incoherence. Oh, the steady beating on my back, the rhythm giving the pain a trance-like quality. The occasional, much sharper blows, disrupting, while at the same time deepening, that liminal state. I opened my eyes, once, to see a face below mine. The Goddamn Gorgeous Asian Man that I met at the fetish night was present at the party. I had seen him downstairs, talked a bit - he remembered me - and had observed me topping CN. He was standing, looking at me with a slight grin. I believe he observed that I like being hit much more than I like hitting, and I think I nodded. I don't know. Then, his face was replaced by CN's. CN thrust his hand into my hair, pulling firmly, and asked if I was enjoying myself. "Yes," I said, "very very much." "Very very much?" CN queried. "Yes. Very very much," I repeated. "Good," he said. Their faces. In that state, seeing their faces while being transported by the pain and the rhythm...was shockingly powerful. The intimidating beauty and strangeness (as I don't really know him at all) of the GGAM sent me reeling, spinning with mingled delight and confusion. The bearded face of CN, framed by his looong, soft locks made my breath catch, and his voice sent me further, further Out There into the stratosphere. I want him, very badly. The predatory look in his eyes right before he bites me - oh, it makes me tremble. And the force of that desire combined with the flogging to put me Right Out of normal modes of functioning. When I finally came down off the cross, the Magician cuddled and helped me ground down (a bit, at least. Enough to function. :P ). And it was sweetly lovely to come down into his arms - a safe, stable place, still filled with desire.
The rest of the night was a melange of people and experiences. There were continual bites from CN, kisses and hair-pulling from the Magician, good coffee, and roasted marshmallows. There were cool girls to talk to, and the Magician's redheaded friend who asked very nicely for access to my breasts - and was most gracious when I told him that I wasn't sure about that, as I didn't really know him at all. Though, if his attentions to my neck and ears are anything to go by, I think I may acquiesce to his request the next time he makes it. On a trip to the upstairs bathroom, in the very wee hours of the morning, I was ambushed by CN. We ended up fooling around on the breezeway above the living room, since the upstairs couches and beds were already taken by other partygoers. Not for the first time that weekend, I cursed the fact that the moon has a cycle, and so do I - and I was On It. So it was hands only. Probably for the best...but, oh, did I mention how much I want this man (Did I mention that he wears a kilt?? Hot!!)? Not that I particularly want intercourse with him, but simply that I want to be able to fuckin' roll around naked with him. And the really neat thing about this is that several times, when I had my hands up under that kilt of his (Oh yes. That's right. It's true about what they don't wear beneath their kilts.), people came wandering upstairs, mainly for the bathroom. But, it was ok, because it was one of Those Parties. And being "caught" at Those Parties...is ok. It was still a little embarrassing for me...a little strange...but neat to know that no one was judging me for it or thinking that I should "get a room."
When we finally detached ourselves from one another, I looked at the time and realized that I would not be getting back home (I had ridden with the Magician because it's out in BFE and gas is expensive and I don't do well with finding places in the dark) until after Apollo had gotten up and gone to work. Oops. I had not realized that this would happen. Had not realized just how late/early it was. So, I called Apollo and apologized profusely. Fortunately, he was very understanding, and told me not to worry about it. By the time we finally got back to the Magician's place, I did not feel competent to drive, even the short distance to my home, and dawn was breaking. So, I burrowed down in the Magician's bed and...well, we did eventually sleep. But, oh, it was pretty before then. Again, I cursed my period. But even so, it was beautifully fun. And the Magician...now, him, I want intercourse with. As much as he turns me on and makes me come, I also feel very comfortable, safe with him. He's lovely and patient - except when he's passionately telling me just how much he wants to fuck me. But he wouldn't ever try unless I told him it was ok, that I had permission. And knowing that makes it incredibly hot - knowing that he wants me so badly, but will wait until it's truly alright, expressing desire but not pushing. It makes me want him even more.
In conclusion, my right arm and shoulder muscles are very sore, my body is spotted with bruises and marks, and I slept twelve hours last night. It was a good, good weekend.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Where to begin?
A few of the lessons I have learned:
- Kink is better sober. And not just because of safety issues. I genuinely process pain a lot better when I'm sober. Of course, I don't think the state I'm in after engaging in sexual or kinky activities counts as sober per se...but alcohol is best left out of it. :)
- When I get uncomfortable with a situation, it's often hard for me to sort out what it is about that situation which isn't working. Fortunately, I have someone in my life who's very wonderful about presenting ways for me to get at the heart of situations. :D
- D/s activities will stay within the context of a scene. As much as I'm fascinated by this dynamic and want to explore it, Thou Shalt Not Tell Joy To Come in Public. No one has that privilege with me, to exert their power when it's not clearly defined that I'm giving it to them. What made this instance worse was that I was coming down from a brief scene, so I was already in subspace, in compliance-space. So when the order came, I complied automatically, even as my brain was screaming that "All of these people don't have the privilege of seeing you at this level of vulnerability...no, no, no!"
- One interesting thing about multiple relationships is the conception (in my head) that they should all be moving at the same rate. If I'm comfy giving oral sex to X, I should be comfortable giving it to Y too because I've been involved with them for the same length of time. This really isn't so. But it's been an interesting thought patten to come up against. It also adds to the feeling of wonder and uniqueness to realize that each relationship is distinct. Each has its own rules and boundaries, and just because something works in one relationship does not mean that it will work in all of them. They are separate entities.
- When I deal with and confront the things that are making me uncomfortable in a relationship, my attraction to the person goes way up. Surprise, surprise.
- This exploration of poly/non-monogamy is not just my hedonism, my selfishness. This is part of Me. This is part of who I am and part of what fulfills me as a person. And it is part of my calling to make sure that I explore and fulfill that.
Most recently, I have begun learning that I can take pain. Lots (for me) of it. Before my most recent playdate with RHF, we had discussed and reevaluated boundaries. He wanted more sexual contact. I was not, and am not ready for that with him - largely because I was not comfortable (see above lessons). We talked about the things that were making me uncomfortable, and he was very gracious about resolving them in a manner which indicated that he genuinely respected my boundaries and cared for my welfare. As sexual contact (of some sorts) was still a bit touchy with us, I mentioned that I'd like to start pushing my limits with regard to pain...see how much I really could take.
Aaaaand, now my ass is an interesting shade of purple. :P He began by spanking me. Now, spanking in and of itself does not really crank my engine. I mean, I much prefer the set of connotations that go with flogging to those that go with bare-handed spanking. But, it wasn't bad. It was a surprisingly powerful sensation - surprisingly strong pain. When he switched to a wooden paddle, I had my first thought that afternoon of "Should I safeword? This really fuckin' stings..." But I held on. Rode it. And it was like riding a wave, cresting and coasting. Eventually he stopped, and put me up on the cross to begin flogging me. Mmm. He pushed it into the area where it was hurting, where I was not constantly in my Serene-Yoga-Breathing place. But...I could step back, I found. I could turn my attention to my breath and just be in it. Or I could suffer the pain and squeal. Both were interesting experiences. I really, really want to be pushed far, far with flogging. I like it so much more than most other impact play that I've tried thus far - though of course other instruments and methods have their place. Anywho.
After he flogged me, he had me come, several times, with manual stimulation. Then, as I was still riding the edges of my last authorized orgasm, he placed the Hitachi between my legs. I screamed, and my fading orgasm reasserted itself, crashing back over me. "You'd better not be coming," he said. But...my brain said...but I wasn't done, when you turned that thing on! I...aw, damn. "Sorry, sir," I whispered. Immediately, the Hitachi stopped. I felt a tapping against my ass, something thin and cruel. He did not hit me, it felt, with much force, but oh gods, it was painful. My first caning. I felt myself nearing catharsis, nearing tears, nearing a letting go of something... but then he stopped. And I was grateful. I wasn't sure that I could have taken what would have been required to push me over that line. I had thought, several times, about calling out, about making it stop. But then, there was always that part of me, reminding me that I could step back. That I didn't have to be suffering so intensely (which is not the same as not feeling it...I still felt, but it wasn't bad, it just was). That I could do more, take more, even a just a little more. Looking back, I probably could have taken the pain needed to push me over the edge into Whatever Was Waiting, but I'm rather glad it didn't happen then.
I went home feeling....tired. So wrung out. In a good way, but wrung out. Apollo was a bit incredulous when he saw my ass...a little stunned, little shocked. I was too, frankly. But it's all good. It doesn't hurt at all, really, just looks like it should.
And now, to prepare for Apollo's homecoming (poor boy has to work weekends now, gorramit.) and the activities planned for tonight. *grins*
Sunday, May 4, 2008
"But the May Day is the Great Day"
My Beltane - Let Me Show You It:
Wednesday, April 3oth -
I went and watched Firefly ("War Stories" and "Trash", for those Browncoats out there) with the Magician and his roommate. I had been promised a Good White Russian (my hands-down favorite mixed drink) in exchange for a Good Back Rub. Mmm, liquor drinks. After the drink and back rub, there was cuddling. And my First in a Long Time handjob-to-completion - I'm out of the habit with Apollo...we normally just get to fucking after a little bit. I get so neurotic over giving pleasure - it's like I'm afraid I've forgotten how. But it was a goodness. As are the Magician's soft hands and sweet nails.
Thursday, May 1st -
I went out a-wandering around my neighborhood, making a clover chain to the Goddess, admiring Her loveliness and re-committing myself to Her work. Later that evening, I had drinks with my Victorian Lit class. After that, I went home and jumped on Apollo. Because yes.
Friday, May 2nd -
Acted as a chaperon for the alternative prom that my church was sponsoring for the GLBTQ kids in the area from 7-9. What amazing clothes! I should've been queer in high school...alas, alack. I felt really wonderful about helping to provide a safe space for these kids to dance and have a good time - and so VERY pleased that my church was so supportive. After that, I headed over to the club for the Voltaire show. It was my first Voltaire show, and hot damn. That man. Would let him fuck me six ways to Sunday. I already knew he was clever, much like his historical, satirical counterpart...but damn. The Magician showed up, and Church Goth Boy (CGB) was there with his wonderful wife. My friend Ceres brought her middle-school-aged daughter and her daughter's friend - and they were terribly cute in their excitement and embarrassment. Also, about half of the normal RHPS cast was there...so I was wondering who the hell was working the show. I think the highlights of the night were his parody of the Dresden Dolls' "Coin Operated Boy" as "Coin Operated Goy", the Star Trek song about how Data is "fully functional...and anatomically correct," and his final encore song. He introduced this song by saying that it was not one of his...but a song from a movie which he felt had definitely influenced him, and probably most of us, in becoming the perverse people we are today. The light was coming on at this point, but I didn't dare hope. He continued to say that we should sing the words if we knew them...and the other words, if we knew them. HA! And he began:
"Micheal Rainer was ill the day the earth stood still
and he told us where we stand! ("On our feet!" "On your knees!")"
Ahhh. The Rocky folks in the audience supplied the (fucking, sucking) callback lines, and it was wonderful.
Saturday, May 3rd -
Got up and went to the Magician's for breakfast (ok, brunch) and hanging out. I had told him, last night, that when we hung out today, he owed me a back rub this time. This back rub ended up with me topless on his black satiny sheets - which, let me just say, is a luxurious experience. There were nails and hair-pulling (ahh), and my hand on his cock (an observation: the more familiar and varied your experience with genitals are, the more attractive they look on their own merits. I don't think that before Wednesday night I had ever actively thought "What a pretty cock."). After he came, we cuddled, me still in jeans, him nekkid. Laying there, just being in contact, was lovely, luscious. But I was starting to ache for more. On Wednesday, I had initiated the taking-off of pants. I was hoping, quietly, that this time would see a reciprocation of that. But part of the Magician's charm and beauty is that he doesn't push. He has Patience. So, I lay there stewing in desire before finally working up the chutzpah to ask him for another bite, at least. He cheerfully obliged, staying to run his hands, his fingers over my breasts, tweaking and pulling. Eventually, his nails crept to the border of my pants, slipping under, slipping around. Then slipping over my jeans, pressing between my legs until I gasped.
"So, um, I guess this might be a good time to have the 'rules and boundaries' conversation," he said.
"Yeah...well...my boundaries are pretty flexible. I have standing permission for...pretty much whatever I want to do. I would want to check with Apollo before we have intercourse, if we get to that point, but that's it. Oh, and...well...I guess you should know that it generally takes me a long while to be comfortable giving oral."
"Ok. Well, you get to set the pace, so that's fine."
Then the conversation dissolved into the movement of hands, hands down the front of my jeans, hands helping me remove my jeans. Fingers pressing through my undies as I spasmed on the bed - so gentle, yet so effective. Really. I...I sometimes despair of a partner's manual clitoral stimulation being truly orgasmic, but my faith is hereby renewed.
"Are you always so responsive, or am I just special?"
"You're special, and I'm always this responsive," I grinned, "I do tend to prefer penetration to clitoral stimulation..."
"Well, if that's how you respond to clitoral stimulation and you prefer penetration...I'm not sure if I can keep up with your moving."
"Mm. Well, honestly, you're better than most. And besides, I figured those nails would make penetration pretty difficult anyway."
"You just have to be careful. It is possible." And yes, yes it was possible. And beautiful. And utterly...wow. I came down, slowly, walking to my car, clutching my prayer beads, grounding into them.
From there, I headed off to Ceres's place for the Beltane ritual and party. As usual, Pagan Standard Time was in full effect...so the ritual started an hour later than it was supposed to. But it was lovely. I started in my cranberry colored robes, and read to the participants about Shadow and Bast, and hot, feline sex. Then I led them into guided meditation to meet their Wild Love - the personification of their desires and passions. While they were in meditation, I slipped out of my robes so that when they opened their eyes, they saw me in fishnets, black underwear, my crimson corset, and my knee-high boots. We're talking transformation here. :)
Afterwards, we poured drinks and got ready to watch Secretary. Before we got the movie in, however, I found myself chatting with Ceres's friend, the Amazon, and her girl - a beautiful, newly transitioning girl, Kwan Yin. At some point, Kwan Yin remarked that it would be really hot if the Amazon and I made out. Of course, I began blushing furiously, and asked if she was serious. The Amazon gave me her best "come fuck me" look, and Kwan Yin assured me that she was, indeed, serious.
"But...the boys are watching. I don't know that I want to put on a show..."
"Why the fuck not? Who the hell cares, really?"
Well, when you put it like that...I edged towards her, and she extended her arms. And her lips, woman's lips, soft and succulent. Strong passion and soft body. Lips creeping to the neck, my shivers beginning. Kwan Yin touches my shoulder, and offers me her lips too. I kiss, oh, I kiss. My hands weave into her hair, and she responds. She, too, finds my neck, finds my shudder.
"You're so much fun," they agree, "You're so easy." I am easy, that way. Easy to please, easy to arouse. I like it that way.
We've formed a pile of arms and legs and hands - making out on the floor. I don't remember that the boys are there. And they are there, watching. But it doesn't matter. All that matters are their lips and their hands in my hair. Amazon gets up for a moment, and returns, saying:
"Ceres has cleared off her bed...I mean, no expectations, but we could take this in there...it'd be more comfortable and more private."
"Let me call my boyfriend," I say. Apollo gives me his full blessing, and I join them on Ceres's bed.
"I don't know how I feel, " Amazon says, "about having sex with you. Or about Kwan Yin having sex with you. But I definitely want to play with your breasts." Oh, that's fiiine by me. Beautiful. She undoes my corset, slow and careful, praising the softness of my skin, the luminescence of me, the responsiveness of my nerves. Kwan Yin is at my mouth, and what kisses! I am confused, though, when Amazon goes for my undies and fishnets.
"Wait...what constitutes 'sex'?"
"Oh, I don't count hands."
"Excellent!" And it was. Friendly and passionate and gorgeous. I watched them in ecstasy, kissing them while they went down on each other. I put my fingers inside my second woman, ever, and felt the wonder of clenching vaginal muscles. I felt their fingers inside me, heavenly, heavenly. Kwan Yin, merciful lady that she is, was fingering us both, at one point. I clutched them in my passion, and embraced them in theirs.
I had only met them that day. And still, it was sacred. Still, it was holy. Still, it was my Beltane.
My Beltane Bliss, Let Me Show You It.
Friday, May 2, 2008
"Do you want something?" he asked, after he'd flogged me well, and left a sizable bruise on my ass with his palm. He'd finally taken my panties off, and was slowly creeping up my inner thighs.
"Mm-hmm," I moaned.
"What do you want, then?" he inquired. Oh gods. I was already so high, so high...I could have just stayed there, as long as he kept touching me. I didn't care, didn't know what I wanted, just that I wanted.
"I don't know...just...I don't know, Sir." His fingers made contact with my labia, and I shuddered. They split my lips, teasing me, just brushing my clit. "How much do you like to be teased?" he had asked, while we were discussing limits for today. So much, I told him. So much. In this space, teasing...isn't. It is its own fulfillment.
"Have you found words again?" he asked, "Can you tell me what you want now?" I had the feeling that he was looking for something along the lines of "I want to come," but that wasn't in me. I didn't specifically want an orgasm...I was happy where I was.
"I...I...want something in my cunt, please, Sir." Penetration, though, yes. That, I craved.
"Beg." Quiet. Struggling within myself for words. Struggling to ask for what had always been freely given.
"Please...Please Sir. Please."
"Please what?"
"Please Sir, please put your fingers in my cunt." And two fingers, immediately, inside me. My knees bent reflexively, bearing down, aching with sudden need. My arousal rose to that plateau of orgasmic bliss, and I cried out.
"Remember, you have to ask before you can come." Shit. I had forgotten, because he hadn't specifically reminded me beforehand, that he likes to practice orgasm control. Shit. Part of me wanted to confess my sin, but I was still on Orgasm Plateau, that place where I'm flying in orgasmic bliss, with random Peaks of even more intense pleasure. I couldn't figure out if I should, how I should, or how to explain myself if I were to confess. So I asked.
"Please sir, please may I orgasm?"
"Beg." But I am begging, I thought. What more does he want? I tried to let go even more, let my most uninhibited self speak, but all she could say was "please".
"Please, please Sir, Please let me orgasm. Please. Please!"
"Come." I tightened my Kegels, and got a Peak, crying out. He withdrew slowly, and helped me sit on the ledge at the bottom of his cross. I lay my head on my arms, panting and weak. There was a tearing sound, like a condom wrapper.
"You might want to look and see where this condom is going," he said, but I didn't need to. I knew. When he found out that I'd never used a vibrator before, he decided that this session would introduce me to the Hitachi Magic Wand. He had it on the "low" setting, and placed it between my legs. Ahh. Pleasant...though if I shifted, just a bit, it landed on my clit - and suddenly, I began to understand. He kicked it up into high gear, and I only barely remembered to choke out "Please, please Sir, may I orgasm? Please, I need to." Silence.
"Please Sir! Please, oh please. Let me orgasm sir, please!" Finally, after a few repetitions, I heard:
"Come." I screamed.
"Come." A cry.
"Keep coming." Guttural moans, all the while pressing myself against the Hitachi, feeling an exquisite-ness to the orgasm that normally doesn't happen with clitoral orgasms, normally reserved for the Almighty G-Spot.
Finally he turned it off. Finally he helped me to the bed, disrobed himself, and snuggled with me. After I had my brain back, I 'fessed up to my Unauthorized Orgasm. "I know. You get one free day. Don't do it again."
And I lay there wondering, and I'm still wondering, how on Earth I'm going to manage it. The Orgasm Plateau, for me, is a place that I come to suddenly, without warning, when one little thing goes very right...no telling what that'll be. And on that plateau, it's several minutes of deeply orgasmic bliss with small peaks, but even the baseline is ecstatic and orgasmic. What do I do, for orgasm control? Ask before I hit a peak? Ask before I hit the Plateau, period? I don't understand. I really doubt that I can hold back either the peaks or the Plateau. It almost makes me want to forgo the whole orgasm thing in general in the context of kink. I mean, not that it wasn't nice, but I feel well-fucked from a good flogging, with no actual orgasm involved. And there's no stress about holding off, or defining what is or is not an orgasm.
On an unrelated note, none of the sex bloggers I read/have read ever mention the fact that pressing oneself enthusiastically against the Hitachi can result in one's labia feeling bruised. For days. That was interesting.
I'm still processing the begging thing. It didn't feel wrong...but, again, like I didn't know what he wanted. I don't mind asking for something...it was kind of sexy to plead. But, at the same time, it's difficult. Difficult to form words, difficult to form ideas.
In still other news, Happy Beltane! Wendy encourages everyone to take advantage of warmer temperatures and take the fucking outside. For this Beltane, I will be attending a Voltaire concert, priestessing a ritual, and having snuggle time with the Magician tomorrow. And then Pentacost is next week...all my red clothes are getting a workout!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Try to understand - he's a Magic(ian) Man!
I got to his place sometime around three, and after enthusiastically greeting his cats and meeting his roommate, we decided on Batman Begins, since I'd yet to see it, and simply must see the one coming out in July (oh, Heath Ledger. Another teen crush in the Dead Guys pile, along with Jim Morrison and George Harrison). I really enjoyed the movie. Which means that I paid attention. There was minimal cuddling - some back rubbing and head-scratching, but that was it.
Left, picked up food for Apollo and myself on the way home, and had a lovely dinner (and a quickie! Whee!) before going back out to hear my first ever Requiem (Verdi's, for those interested). I thoroughly enjoyed it...though I had to restrain my laughter when I saw "Pie Jesu Domine/Dona eis requiem" in the lyrics/libretto? and realized that it's what the monks in The Quest for the Holy Grail are chanting.
Afterwards, the Magician mentioned that some folks were going to the Mellow Mushroom, and asked when I needed to be home. I called Apollo to find out where he was on the Going To Bed process - and found him very nearly there; thus, he didn't care if I stayed out later - he'd be sleeping either way. So, I decided to stay out. But upon further reflection, we decided that The Mellow Mushroom was very likely to be very, very crowded at 9:30 on a Saturday night. So we went back to his place and watched Spaceballs with his roommate - another first viewing for me! There was substantially more cuddling. There was also a mid-movie pause for the getting of ice-cream, then more cuddling. There was more cuddling after the movie ended.
And by cuddling, I mean deliberate, exquisite skritches - nails on the stomach, legs, arms, back and neck. Thorough backrubs. Fingers in my hair. And he was so careful, so conscientious, skirting the boundaries of being explicitly "sexual" - running his fingers right below my bra and right above my breasts, along, but not under, the edge of my skirt. Oh, shivers. Asking, low and compelling, "Do you want more?" My answer of an enthusiastic nod and a few incoherent syllables led to his hand suddenly on my breast, over my clothes, but still electric. Edging, patiently, under shirt, under bra to run those nails over my nipples as I clutched at him, writhing. His hands in my hair, pulling just right - large sections of hair, with steady, intense force. Acquiescing with no visible annoyance or distress to my need to keep it above the waist. And he held me, grounding and gentling me down, before I left that night.
As the song says,
"Mm, he's a magic man.
Ahh, he's got magic hands."
What an abundance I have at this time in my life. What plenitude of uniqueness. Even with all the work, the balancing, the scheduling, the schoolwork....even with all that, I can't imagine preferring monogamy. There's too much out there. Too many amazing people with too many exquisite talents/selves/bodies. There's too great a range of sexual/sensual experience and joy...from the comfortable, thrilling full-on intercourse with Apollo to random flirtation, with bites and skritches, at Rocky to playdates to militant cuddling on couches. I love it all. I want it all. I don't want to choose or exclude. I'm willing to work at it to have it all. Willing to continue working on communication and time management skills. Willing to keep examining and checking motives and ethical situations. Willing to accept that this...this...greed? ravenous-ness? expansiveness of affection? generosity with myself? ....whatever...is worthy of being nurtured and indulged, within the bounds of ethical behavior. Willing to keep listening to my boundaries for sexual and emotional connection, even when they seem silly to me...understanding that they don't have to make sense, they just are.
Life is so damn good.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
There is no smoking in the fucking theater...
I leaned against the railing, breathing and allowing the Frankenfurter's voice to become background noise. Waiting.
"This is a loud venue, so hand signals will be important," he reminded me.
"Ok. One for yellow, two for red, yes?"
"Yes. Ready?"
Waiting. Then the thud begins. I can tell, even after just these couple of times, that he's hitting harder, faster. Not giving me as much warm-up time. And that's ok. I am pulling back, into the flogger's path, into the rhythm, encouraging a deeper hit. I feel myself floating away, easing out of normal space. He pauses to check in. I am still very good. He resumes. Suddenly, there are hands pulling at my hair while the flogger strikes my shoulders, ass and thighs. I gasp deeper, but don't look up. There are teeth in my neck, teeth on my shoulder. A hand, under my chin, raising my eyes. Oh, beautiful Cloaked Norseman, more serious than I'd previously seen, eyes half-lidded. He briefly confirms with RHF, that yes, it's is alright and even appreciated that he add his efforts to this scene. Then the hands in my hair, and the teeth on my neck, and the flogger on my ass. And suddenly, the flogger licks between my legs, my fishnet-and-underwear covered legs. I tremble. The sensations continue, building, until at some point, there are three sets of hands on me, for RHF's girlfriend has joined, and I'm shaking from the stimulation. Shaking.
"Are you good for now?"
"Yes. Oh yes."
"If I sit you down somewhere, will you stay there for a while?"
"....Yes. Yes."
I am seeing why one doesn't necessarily go to Rocky for the movie...you go for the kink and the company. Time to flirt, time to play, time to drop the seriousness of GradStudentTA self, and be Shining, Touch-Loving Joy.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Send whips of opinion down my back, Give me more!
So. After last Saturday's first foray into the world of kink, I kept up with the guy who'd flogged me - RHF. Ceres gave him my IM name so he could serve as a contact between myself and the Magician...though I was happy to have an avenue of contact with him, as he was pretty fascinating in his own right. So, we talked via IM. And it became clear that he was interested in playing more. And I was interested in playing more. And he wanted...oh, he was interested in setting up a power dynamic. And immediately, I got a bit scared. What if I didn't like it? What if I *really* liked it, and the intensity got out of hand? What if his style of dominance doesn't match my (theoretical) style of submission? What if it's too soon? Isn't power exchange kinda the Point Of No Return, and once you make that part of a relationship, it's marked as that forever'n'always? But we continued discussing it, and he assured me that if a dynamic doesn't work for me, we could reconsider that, especially at this early point in the game. I felt better about it, talked to Apollo about it and received enthusiastic approval, and before I knew it, I'd scheduled a play date for Friday - yesterday.
We agreed that this scene would be 1. Primarily sensory exploration for me, with light focus on establishing a dynamic. 2. Focused on striking with different instruments. and 3. The explicitly sexual contact would stay above the waist.
Even after we set these boundaries, I found myself constantly worrying. My Inner 2nd Wave Feminist was shouting at me about allowing a Man To Tell Me What To Do, telling me that I Don't Need A Man To Define Me or Give Me Worth. I had to remind her that I can remain intact, as a strong, independent woman, and still submit, as I choose, when I choose, and to whom I choose. I had to remind her that I had already made it clear that humiliation/degradation play is a Hard Limit for me - I *am* worthy, dammit, whether I'm submitting or not. And being made to feel worthless is not my idea of a healthy or sexy time (I do understand that for some folks, this sort of play is cathartic and/or a way to deal with Stuff...but that's not what I Need). One of the funny parts is that I don't think she would have kicked up such a fuss if I were going to be submitting to a Domme...but because it was a man, the situation was much more loaded.
Once I was there, though, in the room, clothes in a pile, the cross cool against my back, it was ok. The fear and anxiety dissipated. I was breathing, slow and deep, staying calm, staying grounded. Then he put on the nipple clamps. They didn't hurt going on...but I will admit that although I know he was doing something else to me during that time, I don't for the life of me remember exactly what it was, except that there was some other sensation competing with the ever-increasing ache of the clamps for my attention. He checked in, and I admitted that the clamps were really pushing my tolerance. "Do you know how I like to take clamps off?" he asked. I shook my head, but inwardly I was accessing my SM101 info on the application and removal of clamps...and was fairly certain that I had a clear idea of what he planned to do. So I inhaled deeply, and held it. "Ready? 1...2..." And I exhaled as he slapped/jerked/otherwise abruptly removed the clamp. Oh gods. This, now this was Pain. And I wasn't sure that I liked it. The process repeated on the other breast, followed by a brief tweak of the nipple, which sent me cringing.
Fortunately, he then had me turn around, and put my hands and feet in cuffs - the cuffs for my hands were rather fancy - they had a bar for me to grip, which turned out to be most useful. From here, the experience blurs into a melange of flogging (ohgodsohgods, I was floating), knife play (I'd told him that I enjoy this...no actual cutting, but knives are sexxy), scratching, hair pulling, and kisses. Damn. Potent, potent combination. By the time he turned me around again to finish up, I was trembling and decidedly not quite with my body...having a beautiful time of it. His final choice was a long, narrow piece of wood, and he informed me that these strokes would be across my breasts. He also informed me that I would be counting these strokes. As the first blow fell on my right nipple, I realized that this, like the clamps, would be an experience of less-than-overtly-enjoyable pain. Once we reached four (I was very proud that my voice hadn't faltered), he paused to check in. "How are you doing now?" I was about to answer, when his mouth closed over my left nipple. I gasped, speechless. "I asked you a question," his mouth still hovering above my breast. I searched my brain, and came up with something to the effect of "Ok, but I can't take much more." "How many more can you take, then?" I thought, and decided on two. I could handle one more on each breast. He doled out these two strokes, then tweaked my nipples. At this, I came the closest to actually safewording, but he stopped there, kissing me and helping me down to the bed. He covered me with a furry blanket, and offered to leave me alone to process, or to stay with me. I asked him to stay, and he curled up behind me, spooning.
We stayed that way for over an hour - me alternately silent, laughing, pondering, and being amazed at just how high I was from that. He assured me that I'd done well. That he'd enjoyed it. That he loved my responsiveness, and was looking forward to playing more. Though, he did modify the last comment with the observation that if we were to play very frequently, at this level of sexual contact, things could get rather...frustrating. I thought this very understandable, and assured him that I did not see our play remaining at this level of overt sexual activity for an indeterminate time. Finally, I felt competent to drive, and he needed to go to work. So we parted ways, me still giddy. So giddy in fact that I went home and jumped on Apollo. Which just made me even more giddy. Not, of course, that I'm complaining about this.
Later on that evening, I decided to go out to Rocky in the hopes of seeing and flirting with the Magician. So I went. I did not dress up like I normally do for RHPS...I was going alone, and didn't want to be walking around downtown in my corset, fishnets, and undies...even a skirt over them would have been too risque for me without at least one other person with me. But I went. And boy, am I ever glad that I did. I didn't see the Magician right away, so I stood in the back of the theater, enjoying the pre-show madness. Not long after, I felt a hand brush my ass, and saw a beautiful, built boy scampering away with a guilty look - I smiled, and he said "Now, I had absolutely nothing to do with that!" But he was playful, and fabulously gay (and thus very safe to be physical with), so we poked at each other, hugging and exchanging pleasantries. He had very warm hands, and a charming smile, and he assured me that we'd share his prop bag. I told him that I generally prefer to simply shout obscenities...but that I'd be happy to partake in props. He ran off to help with pre-show banter, and the Magician showed up. For the rest of the night, with only brief breaks, I was surrounded by flirting and back rubs and hair pulling and much, much happy, friendly, sexually charged fun. There was Hyacinth, the beautiful gayboy, who periodically came to visit me in the lobby, where the Magician and I had migrated for easier talking, and sit on my lap. There was the Magician, whose back rubs were thorough and just slightly less amazing than the skritches from his *incredible* fingernails. Finally, there was the Cloaked Norseman (CN) who had long, soft hair and made appreciative noises when it was played with. He also gave exquisite, vampiric bites to the arm, neck, and shoulder regions. I was elated, lusciously in contact, feeling very free and very spoiled. Feeling, on the one hand, like a bit of a Huge Fucking Tease, but on the other hand knowing that it was all out in the open - that there were no expectations from any of the boys I flirted with, no pressure. They were willing to flirt and play without needing it to be more. Yay. Beautiful boys!


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Apple Plant & Healthcare Site Issues & Author Jared Diamond
Apple has chosen Mesa as the site of its newest manufacturing plant. The website to enroll for insurance under the Affordable Care Act has been plagued with problems since its rollout. Pulitzer-prize winning author Jared Diamond is out with a new book: "The World Until Yesterday: What We Can Learn from Traditional Societies."
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Hybrid Distributed Stochastic Addressing Scheme for ZigBee/IEEE 802.15.4 Wireless Sensor Networks
This paper proposes hybrid distributed stochastic addressing (HDSA), which combines the advantages of distributed addressing and stochastic addressing, to solve the problems encountered when constructing a network in a ZigBee-based wireless sensor network. HDSA can assign all the addresses for ZigBee beyond the limit of addresses assigned by the existing distributed address assignment mechanism. Thus, it can make the network scalable and can also utilize the advantages of tree routing. The simulation results reveal that HDSA has better addressing performance than distributed addressing and better routing performance than other on-demand routing methods.
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After months of speculation, the rumours that Chloé's Hannah MacGibbon will leave the fashion house have been confirmed.
Chloé released a statement this morning stating that "Hannah will leave the house to pursue new projects". Geoffroy De La Bourdonnaye, CEO of the brand, spoke highly of the former Creative Director and said "We are grateful for her contribution and commitment to Chloé. Her considerable talents will be missed".
The statement also confirmed that MacGibbon left on good terms. She shared her "deep affection for Chloé" and said she will always be "grateful to the company".
So who will replace MacGibbon in the latest fashion shake-up? Former creative director of Pringle, Clare Waight Keller is said to be stepping up to the role.
Now the only thing left to solve is where MacGibbon will go to next. Watch this space! Take a look through the highlights from MacGibbon's last collection for Chloé below.


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Mormon missionary killed after being hit by truck in Oklahoma
killpack Sandy, UTFeb. 6, 2013 2:00 p.m.
Now that is a sensible, non-reactionary solution. Thank you,
bikeboy Boise, IDFeb. 6, 2013 10:56 a.m.
Speaking as a RM and a 27-year veteran transportation cyclist:
You are more vulnerable on a bicycle than in a car, and riding accident-free is the only way to avoid injury or death. However, bicycle transportation isn't inherently dangerous.
Nobody (or very few people) will deliberately run into you. The key is to be legal, predictable, and visible. Visible is particularly challenging at night, and missionaries should have bright lights at both ends. I'd also like to see hi-viz reflective vests (cheap, and can be worn outside of overcoats, suits, etc.) and reflective/hi-viz treatment for the ubiquitous backpacks, etc. (I don't think there's a rule that says missionaries have to be dressed in dark, nearly-invisible clothes. If there is, there shouldn't be!)
Condolences to the family and loved ones of Sister Smith; I'm confident there's a place in the Kingdom for her.
killpack Sandy, UTFeb. 6, 2013 10:41 a.m.
All missions already have curfews in place. There is no need to place restrictions on biking hours. I for one, would be pretty upset if I had to stop and walk my bike home as soon as the sun went down, just because my mission leadership wanted to micromanage my own safety. It was an honor for me to have served a mission. But, like any bureaucracy, there were rules, regulations and restrictions that made serving less enjoyable. Placing more barriers in the way will only discourage potential missionaries from service.
benchwarmer ,Feb. 6, 2013 10:31 a.m.
Wait...full time missionaries have to purchase their own bikes?? Seriously? Why are young women sent to unknown cities where they are asked to be in such a vulnerable position as on a bike? Have any of you BEEN in Oklahoma? I can't imagine these kids riding for miles of nothing but wheat, blazing sun or freezing winter winds. A car should be provided for them. Yes, car accidents happen but at least those who may be intent on harm will allow these young women some measure of safety in a locked car with a cell phone to dial police and it provides shelter from the elements. I also find it sad that a church with assets in excess of $150 Billion dollars asks their missionaries who bring more converts into the church with their tithing can't provide a vehicle for them to use to be safe from the elements and those who would do them harm. This nice young woman could certainly have met the same fate here just biking for recreation but the whole issue is a bit too risky this way.
GeoMan SALEM, ORFeb. 6, 2013 8:10 a.m.
My condolences to the family and friends of Sister Smith, especially her companion.
I, probably like most posting here, don't even know what the Church's current official policy is concerning biking after dark. I do know that on my mission (a long, long time ago) we were not supposed to ride after dark. That was before the more visible LED head and tail lights for bicycles became available. A mission is still the safest place for young men (and I presume women) of that age group to be.
I ride my bike to and from work most days and at this time of year it is in the dark both directions. With proper equipment visibility isn't going to be the reason someone hits me. Driver inattention or incompetence will be. Many of the same people clamoring for more gun control regularly use the mobile phones while driving and engage in other dangerous behaviors behind the wheel of a car.
I hope that most families aren't spending $800 for a missionary bicycle. There are plenty of high quality, light-weight bicycles available for less than half that price even after equipping it with lights, fenders, luggage racketc.
eastcoastcoug Danbury, CTFeb. 6, 2013 6:15 a.m.
My, my, we have a lot to learn about how to respond to people (even fellow church members) that don't think like we do or react the way we would like. No need to disparage those who are asking questions. Even slamming down a critic will not help anyone in the end. We are all sad and grieving for the loss of this Sister. Many of us have served a mission or have children who have served, or who are about to serve. We all love missionaries and are sad for this loss.
killpack Sandy, UTFeb. 5, 2013 8:44 p.m.
I can't believe all of the reactionary comments. Here's a news flash. We don't make policies based on a zero fatality outcome, for ANYTHING. Because, if that is your sole motivation, to have NO FATALITIES, you will accomplish NOTHING in this life. People die biking, walking, driving, flying, taking the train, taking the bus, taking a cab, and every other possible means of conveyance. If you want to reduce fatalities on the mission, or in any other bureaucracy, lock your people in a bomb shelter with a 50 year supply of food and water and throw away the key. I'm pretty sure they won't die then. Otherwise, people die, some earlier than others. Sorry if that sounds insensitive. But I think the LDS Church should keep on doing what it is they do. Bikes are a very efficient way to spread the good word. This great woman died a glorious death doing just that. God bless her.
fwinxee Lapu-Lapu, 00Feb. 5, 2013 7:55 p.m.
She died while serving a mission. I think that's very brave. She will be blessed along with her family. Still, bike policies should be changed or at least make a bicycle lane so that other vehicles can't hit people riding on them.
NeilT Clearfield, UTFeb. 5, 2013 6:40 p.m.
I was struck from behind by a car while riding a bicycle on my mission. Fortunatelely I was not injured. There were no bicylce helmets in those days. I agree with other posters. Riding a bicylce in traffic is dangerous. One suggestion could be mandatory reflective vests at night or limit travel to designated bike trails or well lit areas.
utah cornhusker NORFOLK, NEFeb. 5, 2013 3:50 p.m.
I served in manila Philippines mission. There was only one pair of missionaries that had bicycles because they drove So wild over there So We took public transportation and the only ones that had cars were the mission president and the assistants. May God bless her family and.friends and the missionaries.
Okieland Edmond, OkFeb. 5, 2013 1:13 p.m.
I live in the OKC mission, and at this time all Elders & Sisters are gathered at a memorial service for Sister Smith, so that they can mourn together and strengthen one another. She was a marvelous missionary, and she was where she was supposed to be, doing what she was supposed to be doing. Please send prayers to this mission, as they are so heartbroken to have lost such a faithful sister. Please also pray for the young companion she was training. 2 days before the accident, Sister Smith had been assigned to train a new missionary, the FIRST 19 year old sister to be sent to our mission. That poor young new sister watched her trainer die. Can you imagine? Please pray for her. That is the most painful way to start your missionary service. The authorities have not released any details of the accident, other than it was caused by a young 18 year old man driving a truck. No indications have been made that alcohol or cellphone use was a factor. Woodward is a wonderful small country town. Many places have narrow roads, and no shoulder or sidewalk available. It was an unfortunate accident. :(
ulvegaard Medical Lake, WashingtonFeb. 5, 2013 12:39 p.m.
This it the type of headline you never want to see. I hope the family and close friends feel an extra portion of the spirit in their lives at this moment. My family too knows the pain of losing someone in an untimely manner and we have also felt that extra portion of the spirit in our time of duress and loss.
voiceofreason1234 SANDY, TXFeb. 5, 2013 10:52 a.m.
My name was Hermana Smith (like the girl in the story) serving in the Dominican Republic in 88 during my last week as a missionary when a drunk motorcycle driver ran into my back tire when I was turning onto a side street from a thoroughfare. I felt nothing but a nudge on my back tire and looked back to see a man on the ground and his motorcycle a few yards away from him. I was amazed that my back tire had been bent so profoundly that my wheel could not move to spin through the forks of the bike. I was grateful for this miracle. I now have a temple marriage and 7 kids, it is so great I survived that. This story makes me remember how fortunate I am. Thanks to the Lord!
gmawendy GARLAND, TXFeb. 5, 2013 9:37 a.m.
My Heart goes out to the family of theis Special Missionary! Just know she was in the service of her fellow man, which means, she was in the service of the LORD! She and this special family will be Blessed always.... You will see her again and will feel her spirit with you always. She is still doing the work of the LORD! Bless you all...!
'As Sisters in Zion!'
runnerguy50 Virginia Beach, VaFeb. 5, 2013 9:13 a.m.
This is tragic news. There is nothing wrong with folks suggesting a review of bikes. My take is if the area has no bike paths then no biking.
Gregg Weber SEATTLE, WAFeb. 5, 2013 8:38 a.m.
"Killed" might have been the wrong word. How about "died" which doesn't have any intent connotations.
JWB Kaysville, UTFeb. 5, 2013 8:28 a.m.
Death is a serious and somber moment in life, especially for our youth who put their life on the line everyday they are alive, and truly as missionaries of Faith. I definitely believe in safety and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has done a remarkable job in ensuring the safety and health for our Elders and Sisters throughout the years. With the very large number of missionaries and will be growing more, quickly, there is a lot of exposure daily for errors, mistakes, accidents and just sickness in many varied areas of the world. We don't want to see the loss of life of anyone.
Missionaries can do their best to be seen and take precautions and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and mission leaders do a great job to ensure missionaries are safe and protected as much as possible.
Hopefully, living in a world of negative news in the world, we have to be on guard of being negative even though the political world is nothing but negative, anymore. Crises happen and some are made.
This is a sad day but with faith and God's blessings we will endure.
The Bishop CHINQUAPIN, NCFeb. 5, 2013 8:22 a.m.
I served a Mission and remember very well riding a bike. There were a few times drivers got a bit to close but for the most part it was ok. I always felt if it's my time to go, so be it. I was serving The Lord and wasn't worried. Prayers to the family of the deceased Sister Missionary. You will see her again.
KC Mormon Edgerton, KSFeb. 5, 2013 8:20 a.m.
You are so right. Just last week I attended a funeral for Elder George Peter Solie who was serving in the Salt Lake City West Mission when he passed away in his sleep one year and a few days in to his mission. While it is truly sad when a missionary is lost, as with anyone, we must know that it is part of Heavenly Fathers plan for them. The most comforting words I heard came from his mother who, after so many people had called it a tragedy said "it is sad but not a tragedy. He was doing what his Heavenly Father wanted him to do."
EnglishAlan Rugeley, StaffsFeb. 5, 2013 7:35 a.m.
As a convert to the Church, missionaries will always hold a special place in my heart. Whenever I hear of a missionary being killed, my heart aches, as I know what change their message brings into the lives of those who are blessed with their message. As a Return Missionary, and the parent of Return Missionaries, I know the worry that comes to those parents whose children serve. Statistically, those who serve though are less likely to lose their lives early.
God bless you, Sister Smith, and God bless your family. My guess is that your reward is assured, and that the Lord has a higher calling for you. My prayers are also with the person who was driving the truck. This must be a difficult time for them and their family also.
Bluto Sandy, UTFeb. 5, 2013 7:15 a.m.
Why would they have you purchase a bike here and pay for shipping?
Pretty sure that is not the case.
I purchased my bike in England when I got there.
There are bike shops in every state and town.
more..Lights and relectors.
Zone leaders first responsibility is to the Sisters in their zone.
Being out publically after dark needs to be mitigated for the Sisters.
Jazzledazzle Provo, UTFeb. 5, 2013 7:08 a.m.
@ trentster
It is not just all about finances. The area I served my mission in, you could not drive a car because the streets were so bad. Bikes were more efficient. Let's not forget too people, way more people die in car crashes than bike accidents. As I said in my earlier post, the Lord knows when it is someone's time. In the eternal perspective, this young lady is in a better place, she died in the Lord's service.
In the Book of Mormon days, missionaries were serving people who wanted to kill them. Back in the Pioneer days, people left their family for years, traveling in not the best conditions. The Lord will have no question this young lady was on his side and she will be eternally rewarded.
That said, again, my prayers go out to her family. We never like to see someone we love go, but one day we will all depart from this earth and face our Creator, I can't think of a more honorable way to return to the Lord.
Dennis Harwich, MAFeb. 5, 2013 4:51 a.m.
Why do so many of you disparagingly turn this article into rant about bicycles? It just happened. Many things in life "just" happen. A young women has passed with grieving family and friends. My heart goes out to them.
JohnJacobJingleHeimerSchmidt Beverly Hills, CAFeb. 5, 2013 12:08 a.m.
It is terrible news that someone who was willing to serve has had their life cut short. We pray for the family. I hope they can find peace in the coming days and months.
BYUHSeasiders Taylorsville, UTFeb. 4, 2013 10:39 p.m.
My son is serving in that mission and knew her and many of her companions. I was terrified when I heard a missionary was killed.My heart goes out to Sister Smith's family and the missionaries in the Oklahoma Oklahoma City Mission. I pray for the Spirit to comfort all of them from President and Sister Taylor to the Sisters and Elders, the members and other people there that knew her.Shame to those critizisers for condeming biking. Pres & Sis Taylor has nothing but the utmost concerm and lovee for all missionaries in their mission. May the Lord comfort her family.
Tilka PORTLAND, ORFeb. 4, 2013 10:05 p.m.
When I was on my mission we did splits in the evening with Ward missionaries and priests. The priests loved being able to drive their parents cars.
Shimlau SAINT GEORGE, UTFeb. 4, 2013 7:53 p.m.
My condolences to the Young lady's family. to SLCmom, I learned to ride a bicycle when I was 5 years old. My grandfather taught me. I also served a mission where the main mode of transportation was a bicycle, I just wonder how a child grows up to be 19 and not know how to ride a bike? btw, no criticism is intended
BYU Track Star Los Angeles, CAFeb. 4, 2013 4:07 p.m.
Being a missionary for the Church is not a risk-free under taking. In the late-60s Mitt Romney was in an automobile accident that killed the French Mission President's wife and seriously injured the Mission President enough that Mitt as the AP was running the French Mission for awhile. There are tragic accidents like this and then there are stupid accidents like the recent case of the Missionary getting his picture taken in front of the Lion's cage - That Elder was lucky. Or the Elder's in Texas teaching the discussions to a yet unknown serial killer several years back. It didn't end well for the Elders. To all those out there or going out there. Be careful !!
RoseHeart Paris, TNFeb. 4, 2013 3:54 p.m.
My Sincere Heartfelt Love and Prayer's go out to All The Family and Friend's of This Sweet Young Lady, I know what a Tragedy it is to Lose Your Child and I do Hope and Pray that You will find Peace and Comfort in The Gospel and from Other's....
Mariea Lethbridge, 00Feb. 4, 2013 3:36 p.m.
My heart and prayers go out to the family and friends of this beautiful young Missionary....God speed Sister Smith, God speed!!
trentster TUSTIN, CAFeb. 4, 2013 2:25 p.m.
Unfortunately, the issue of bikes in the mission field boils down to finances. Automobiles are very expensive to maintain. With the increase of missionaries worldwide, especially sister missionaries being called stateside it will become increasingly more difficult to provide them with safe transportation. The lack of public transport outside of urban areas in the U.S. is a problem for all missionaries and their safety. Rural highways and bikes do not combine for a very safe environment for safety, regardless if the riders are male or female. So sad.
cjb Bountiful, UTFeb. 4, 2013 12:57 p.m.
Too often I see bike riders riding where the road is narrow, forcing cars to come dangerously close to them. Or I see bike riders purposely ride out into the road, causing cars to come too close to them. I once wanted to ride a bike to work, but couldn't find what I considered to be a safe way to do this, so I didn't.
aspen Bellevue, WAFeb. 4, 2013 12:55 p.m.
I rode a bike on my mission and was run off the road by an irresponsible driver, and that was before texting. I would not want my children riding bikes when they serve their missions. It's just not safe anymore.
Tom in CA Vallejo, CAFeb. 4, 2013 12:44 p.m.
Shame on those of you who want to use this incident as a cloak to hide behind while disparaging the LDS Church. You need to look in the mirror.
Stuff happens. That's life. May God bless this family.
Say No to BO Mapleton, UTFeb. 4, 2013 12:44 p.m.
We could use a follow-up to the case of the missionary killed at night while riding in South Texas, somewhere around Hidalgo as I recall. Maybe in 2011. Elders Strong and Walker.
Whatever came of that case?
Calciomom Lindon, UTFeb. 4, 2013 12:33 p.m.
All of my surviving children served missions on bikes in different parts of the world. Please don't panic. When you send a child on a mission, as in all other areas of life, you are placing your trust in the Lord that He knows what is best for that young man/woman. As long as he/she is faithful, she will be blessed. This doesn't always mean protection if it is that young person's time to go. We had a 13-year-old son killed in a car accident who was called to a different type of mission. Trust in the Lord means we will trust Him in all things, even if things don't always turn out the way we think they should.
patriot Cedar Hills, UTFeb. 4, 2013 12:17 p.m.
This is beyond sad. God bless her family members.
caleb in new york Glen Cove, NYFeb. 4, 2013 12:12 p.m.
people die in car accidents quite frequently and some people can even die just walking down the street so although I think its fair to constantly reevaluate priorities and to make the missionaries' safety a high priority it sounds on this board like a lot of quick-response reactions. Good leadership requires reviewing the spectrum of considerations and not just a quick reaction to one or a few incidents.
Timp South Jordan, UTFeb. 4, 2013 11:51 a.m.
I'm LDS and a RM also do not think it's appropriate or safe having people biking around at 8-9 at night on country roads, especially when it's dark. What a tragedy.
SLCMom Salt Lake City, UTFeb. 4, 2013 11:48 a.m.
This is heartbreaking for all of us. It is every parent's nightmare. It is especially terrifying for me as a mother who will be sending my own daughter on a full-time LDS mission in less than 1 week! She is headed to a stateside mission that is requiring that ALL missionaries, including Sisters, purchase a bike in advance and ship it there. The church isn't budgeting more cars to compensate for the huge increase in missionaries since October's announcement of the lowered age. My daughter is a novice rider which is scary for her and us (she indicated this on her paperwork). The expense is tremendous (over $800 for a basic package). Now this tragedy occurs which confirms all our fears. It's hard not to completely panic. How many more of these young inexperienced bike riders entering unfamiliar terrain and dangerous locations will have to be severely injured or even lose their lives before the Church rethinks their policies and implement extensive training and safer options?! Having a bike stolen and being unable to afford to replace it is now the least of our worries. Please Church, Do EVERYTHING necessary to prevent another senseless tragedy!
AChapin Albany, Linn, ORFeb. 4, 2013 11:33 a.m.
Aloha and Mahalo for your faithful service.
Jazzledazzle Provo, UTFeb. 4, 2013 11:21 a.m.
Condolences to the family. This is sad.
To all those who are bagging on the biking policy, maybe it was her time to go. She is in a better place. Leaving this life while serving a mission is an honorable way to go and she will be rewarded eternally.
My prayers go out to her family.
Open Minded Mormon Everett, 00Feb. 4, 2013 10:55 a.m.
I'm sad to hear of this.
I have both a nephew, and a Elderly couple Missionaries from my ward serving with her in that Mission.
Some Missionaries get sent home early,
and then again, some Missionaries get sent HOME early.
My thoughts, prayers and condolences with everyone who knew her.
Forrestc Greenway, ARFeb. 4, 2013 10:07 a.m.
She left with dreams of changing hearts,
one soul at a time.
She was following her Savior's footsteps,
and seeking out the blind.
And though today we mourn her loss,
Remember, eternity waits.
She still is serving the God she loves,
beyond His golden gate.
So look to the sky for rainbows of love
for she is waiting there;
someday we will walk with her,
and climb up heaven's stairs.
© Forrest Phelps-Cook
SoUtBoy25 Cedar City, UTFeb. 4, 2013 10:01 a.m.
In Finland it is always dark in the winter, but at least they have more dedicated biking paths and equipment for headlights and reflectors. I'm surprised sisters are on bikes here in the US where cars rule and bikers are considered pests on the road.
MapleDon Springville, UTFeb. 4, 2013 9:38 a.m.
The Biking Policy needs to be rethought. What a loss!
Amber K. Calgary, Alberta, 00Feb. 4, 2013 9:26 a.m.
I'm praying for all those touched by this in any possible way, that they will find the strength and comfort they need. In our temporal lives we only see the smallest possible fraction of the eternal picture, but there is comfort in remembering that these pieces WILL form a whole, and it will be more beautiful and lovely beyond our wildest imaginations. Sister Smith spent her last months on earth serving the Lord - and the blessings and joy she is surely now enveloped in cannot be comprehended in this world. D&C 42:44-46 tells that "And the (missionaries) of the church, two or more, shall be called.... and if they die they shall die unto me, and if they live they shall live unto me. Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die.... And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them" My heart weeps, but the scriptures speak comfort to me always and I'm embraced by the Spirit who eases all pain. May the same be true for any and for all.
Truthseeker SLO, CAFeb. 4, 2013 8:54 a.m.
At a minimum, there should be a policy that prohibits missionaries from riding bikes when it is dark! If the missionaries don't have a car, then members should transport them to their evening appts.
Deep condolences to the family and friends of Sr. Smith.
suzyk#1 Mount Pleasant, UTFeb. 4, 2013 8:52 a.m.
This story brought tears of sadness. I stand all amazed at the love these young men and women have for our Savior Jesus Christ and their desire to serve wherever they are called. She is certainly in a better place than we are and I pray the Lord's choicest blessings will be upon her family, and friends at this difficult time.
midwestldshb Tulsa, OKFeb. 4, 2013 8:22 a.m.
I was honored to know Sister Alesa Smith, to watch her grow up the last few years and get sent out on her mission. I was so proud of her. I know that she is now serving an eternal mission and errand for our Heavenly Father. Thank you, Alesa for your service, your family and ward family miss you terribly. But because of what we know, we KNOW we will see you again.
eastcoastcoug Danbury, CTFeb. 4, 2013 5:46 a.m.
So, so sad. I'm surprised to read she was on a bike. What is the policy on sisters and cars in the US and elsewhere?
wer South Jordan, UTFeb. 4, 2013 12:12 a.m.
We are saddened by the news of Sister Smith, and pray for her family, companion and the truck driver.


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From Edward Rutherfurd, the grand master of the historical novel, comes a dazzling epic about the magnificent city of Paris. Moving back and forth in time, the story unfolds through intimate and thrilling tales of self-discovery, divided loyalty, and long-kept secrets. As various characters come of age, seek their fortunes, and fall in and out of love, the novel follows nobles who claim descent from the hero of the celebrated poem The Song… (more)
Paris, once again, has fallen into the wrong hands.
It is a tour de force multigenerational saga, perhaps Rutherfurd's most ambitious creation to date.
For all its merits, Rutherfurd's latest is too big and too professorial for comfort—Edmund White could have written his own À la recherche du temps perdu in the same space.
Publisher: Ballantine Books (April 23, 2013)
Format: EPUB
Page count: 832 pages
File size: 3.1 MB
Protection: DRM
Language: English


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What does tangor mean?
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temple orange, temple orange tree, tangor, king orange, Citrus nobilis(noun)
large citrus tree having large sweet deep orange fruit that is easily peeled; widely cultivated in Florida
The tangor is a citrus fruit hybrid of the mandarin orange and the sweet orange. The name "tangor" is a formation from the "tang" of tangerine and the "or" of "orange".
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The numerical value of tangor in Chaldean Numerology is: 4
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Hi Scott, great article! First step in making our home appliance more energy efficient is always measuring how much energy your current household products are consuming. There are power extension blocks that can help measuring exactly that. It is sad that not many people try to measure the energy consumption of individual consumer products like furnace you mentioned. For example anyone can buy a PwrUSB power strip with a built in meter to see how many watts are being consumed by the attached electrical devices. I found there are many such products on Amazon alone selling for $50-$70 a piece. I think once we know the energy consumption patterns we can automate the process of turning those on and off during the time we actually use them. I automated the the computer uptime of my office's file server by setting up few pwrusb extension blocks and programmed those to shutdown the PC at 5:15 PM everyday. Knowing that there are not a single PC running for nothing at night because my employees forgot to shut it down gives me peace of mind. Trying to save precious energy and reduce our carbon footprint take will power, efforts and time. But there are so many products that can help us save energy in our everyday lives these days - there shouldn't be any excuse!
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Fashion Star mentor Jessica Simpson and fiancé Eric Johnson were seen in Beverly Hills, Calif. on Friday night (March 16). The mom-to-be needed a little help getting out of the SUV before heading into Mr. Chow for dinner.
On Monday, the blonde beauty commented on her size. "No it's not twins, I know it looks like it," she said, adding the baby is not due "quite yet, we have some time."
The following day, Jess talked pregnancy sex with Ryan Seacrest.
Yes, I am definitely feeling intimate — I'm kind of unstoppable at the moment!," she said. "The big O is like the biggest O ever," she revealed, adding that Eric is not complaining about her desires. "He's always ready."


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Buoyed by considerable revenues from its hydrocarbons exports [2], the Algerian government is embarking on a series of initiatives aimed at modernising the agricultural sector and boosting food production. Although similar strategies are being implemented to generate activity in a number of different areas of the economy, authorities will likely pay special attention to agriculture given an historic reliance on imports and the traditional emphasis on self-sufficiency, Global Arab Network reports according to OBG.Food security is a sensitive issue [3] in Algeria, as it has been throughout North Africa [4]in recent years. With large swathes of the region's populations sensitive to price fluctuations, governments have gone to great lengths to reduce the impact of commodity volatility. In response to January 2011 riots that were in part caused by a rise in the price of sugar and cooking oil, Algeria's government reduced taxes and import duties on the two goods. The state has also continued to heavily subsidise the price of key foodstuffs, including flour and milk, in addition to oil and sugar.The cost of these subsidies can be substantial, in 2013 estimated to reach 1.1% of GDP. Moreover, because Algeria is heavily dependent on food imports, it is vulnerable to shifts in global prices. Nearly 70% of the wheat consumed is purchased abroad, with imports of the cereal projected to hit 5.8m tonnes in 2012/13, largely coming from France, Canada, Germany and the US.It is this context that the government is pursuing its Agricultural and Rural Renewal Policy (La Politique du Renouveau Agricole et Rural), which focuses on improving management in the agriculture sector, developing more effective regulations and promoting the use of more modern technology and practices.So far, many of these efforts have been focused on reforming land access, both by consolidating farmland and by improving access to state-owned territory. Between 2000 and 2010, there was an 11% increase in the usage of previously non-exploited arable land and, since the establishment of the National Office for Agricultural Land in 2010, more than 195,000 applications for access to state land have been received. In addition to land reform, new programmes to encourage public-private partnerships, provide better training to farmers and implement modern technology are all promising to boost agricultural production.The strategy seems to be paying off, with the value of agricultural output growing 23.7% in 2011 and a further 32% in 2012. While there remain opportunities for investment in production, attention is now turning to the development of supporting infrastructure and downstream industries.Although it is the largest country in Africa, only about 8.2m ha of its 2,381,740 sq km is arable, equivalent to 19.5% of agricultural land or 3.4% of total land area, according to the World Bank. Moreover, just 1.1m ha of farmland is irrigated, a figure that the government would like to see grow to 1.6m ha by 2014. The state has also committed more than AD150bn (€1.45bn) to improving existing irrigation systems.Due to Algeria's size and the government's focus on underdeveloped areas, transportation infrastructure will also be key to managing agricultural growth. This will include ensuring that rail and road links are in place and creating transfer stations and storage infrastructure such as grain silos. In January 2013, the Algerian Inter-professional Office of Cereals announced plans to construct nine new silos at a cost of nearly AD19bn (€184m).Furthermore, the government is working to boost dairy and meat production, which will require more refrigerated facilities, milk processing plants and slaughterhouses. The dairy industry is in its nascent stages, with Algeria still largely reliant on imported milk powder, although domestic milk production has increased in recent years, rising from 390m litres in 2010 to 688m litres in 2012. Developing better infrastructure could help bring down transport costs, reduce spoilage and make Algerian agricultural products more competitive both in the domestic and international markets.As the state strives to boost food production, reduce unemployment and diversify the economy away from hydrocarbons, all segments of the agriculture sector should expect ongoing government attention. Indeed, considering the politically sensitive nature food prices, the sector will likely continue to receive support. (OBG)
[1] http://www.syndigate.info
[2] http://www.albawaba.com/business/algeria-invest-oil-428745
[3] http://www.merip.org/mer/mer166/algerias-food-security-crisis
[4] http://www.albawaba.com/business/arab-food-gap-481840
[5] http://www.globalarabnetwork.com


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Singer Sonu Nigam announced his world tour concert 'Klose to My Heart' in Mumbai, on Thursday, December 5th 2013.
Sonu Nigam said at the press meet "Indian shows have always been very simple, small orchestra, four dancers; even I have been a part of such shows. Now I want to improve it a bit, make the scale grander, the sound would be costlier, the backdrop would be costlier and the number of team members would increase."
Check out for event photos of Sonu Nigam announces his world tour here on Bollywood Celebden.
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