My favorite chihuahua is boarding at work. He is of course tiny but is actually pretty obese for his breed, snorts like a little pig, is very old, and can't keep his entire tongue in his mouth. We call him Football, Tripod, and, my personal favorite, Truffle Pig, but he's a little love and has fixated on me. He spent a large portion of the day tucked against my side, between my arm and my boob.![smile](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/smile.0d0a8d99a741.gif)
I cracked open Midnight's Children today. So far, so good. It's very Rushdie and has yet to disappoint.
I'm waiting on these two books to come out in paperback (cause I'm poor): Wetlands and Don't Cry.
Here's a neat excerpt from about the hundredth review I've read of Wetlands (and so far the best), from salon:
salon: I think a lot of the book is about recognizing these feelings of embarrassment. Contemporary women are supposed to be liberated, hedonistic, you can go out and get drunk, sleep around. But if we don't have the words to describe the range of experiences other than the old negative ones, then nothing has really changed.
C. Roche: If we don't have the words and we don't talk about it, and I would also suggest that we don't even think about it. I have this theory. If you tell any man, "Today I am your sexual servant. You can tell me whatever you want and I'll do it to you," every man would think of 12 things to do. Men have fantasies; they have words for everything. They could tell a woman, "Lie down, do this, lick this." But if I a man said to me, "I am your sexual servant, what do you want me to do?" I would be blank. There's nothing even in my head to allow myself to think what I actually like.
I seem to be a modern, self-confident woman, and people would think that kind of woman would be into dirty talk, high heels, drugs, fucking around. But as soon as it comes to the secret intimacy of my own fantasies, there's almost nothing there. So for me it was about sitting down and thinking, what does the vagina look like? What do all the little bits look like? What could you call them? It was therapy for myself to actually think about this, which I wasn't doing before.
las meninas
In less than 48 hours I will be home.
![smile](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/emoticons/smile.0d0a8d99a741.gif)
I cracked open Midnight's Children today. So far, so good. It's very Rushdie and has yet to disappoint.
I'm waiting on these two books to come out in paperback (cause I'm poor): Wetlands and Don't Cry.
Here's a neat excerpt from about the hundredth review I've read of Wetlands (and so far the best), from salon:
salon: I think a lot of the book is about recognizing these feelings of embarrassment. Contemporary women are supposed to be liberated, hedonistic, you can go out and get drunk, sleep around. But if we don't have the words to describe the range of experiences other than the old negative ones, then nothing has really changed.
C. Roche: If we don't have the words and we don't talk about it, and I would also suggest that we don't even think about it. I have this theory. If you tell any man, "Today I am your sexual servant. You can tell me whatever you want and I'll do it to you," every man would think of 12 things to do. Men have fantasies; they have words for everything. They could tell a woman, "Lie down, do this, lick this." But if I a man said to me, "I am your sexual servant, what do you want me to do?" I would be blank. There's nothing even in my head to allow myself to think what I actually like.
I seem to be a modern, self-confident woman, and people would think that kind of woman would be into dirty talk, high heels, drugs, fucking around. But as soon as it comes to the secret intimacy of my own fantasies, there's almost nothing there. So for me it was about sitting down and thinking, what does the vagina look like? What do all the little bits look like? What could you call them? It was therapy for myself to actually think about this, which I wasn't doing before.
las meninas
In less than 48 hours I will be home.
VIEW 14 of 14 COMMENTS
I feel like, apart from that, I have little-to-nothing to report. Work and more work, occasional nights out with (e.g. SG) friends, but not much else. I think that's why I don't update much now. "What do I have to say?" Ha.
I caught a cold on the UK trip a few weeks back, but that's cleared up now.
That's my exciting life.