Everything I am...

A teenager dreaming of faraway places or solemnly voicing ambitions to build schools and hospitals in Africa to a disbelieving PSE class whose desires rested upon flash cars and designer trainers.

A school leaver singing a rainbow with coloured balloons teaching quechua children English in darkest Ecuador or trembling with excitement at riding in the back of a pick-up truck for the first time. Pretending to be the sacrificial virgin at Machu Picchu. Living in rural Malawi, tackling Mount Mulanje in the rainy season and feeling as if she's truly awakening to the world for the first time.

A skinny student crossing a river in the Vietnamese mountains or sitting quietly in a temple somewhere in Thailand. Getting lost in Morocco and eating melon and discussing politics with an old man on a deserted roadside.

A girl with a radio in one hand and a map in the other in a muddy English field as we seek to deal with multiple casualties, broken vehicles and general chaos. Remembering what I'm good at and who I am when I'm at my best.

Work sent me on the most useful course ever last week which was all about travel safety and awareness. It certainly covered that but bizarrely has left me feeling more confident in myself having remembered that I am good in a crisis, do think quickly and that other people look to me as a leader. Things that can get lost in the general mire of life. Feeling exhausted and frustrated at work, dealing with friends and relationships and the grind of paying the bills all take it out of you and sometimes make it hard to see the wood for the trees.

Have decided to sod everyone and everything else and to book my adventure for this summer. All on my own, probably somewhere in Asia during the monsoon season. Bring on the spiritual reawakening and hopefully some time to remember who I really am because sometimes right now I worry that between work, relationships and kink I've lost a big part of me. And I like all of me - even the bits that are sometimes hard to fit into life in North-West Enders.

Have also decided to look elsewhere on the work front. They are messing me around, my boss is a psycho and I have had enough. At the very least hopefully it'll mean they take issues that I've raised seriously if I get another offer. Have applied for 4 things and been told I'm very likely to have interviews for two so that's all good.

Sod settling for less than I'm happy to fight for. Stolen from the lovely Echo's blog:

Fuck. That. Shit.

I don't think it's actually on her blog but I definitely got the link from her. You should check her out - not only is her blog named after one of my favourite Catatonia songs ever but she has lots of sexy and interesting things to say.

The plus side is that feeling good about me usually leads to feeling good about kink - so bring on the adventures in pervery as the springtime flowers bloom...

Purple Thursday knickers...

So this week didn't quite provoke the flurry of posting that I'd hoped for. In fact the outcome has been something a little akin to a non-kinky workhouse or sweatshop that has seen me toil for fifteen hours a day with little prospect of resolving half of the issues the team here are facing. Not that I haven't *had* kinky thoughts about living here in ancient times (the place has barely changed - it's utterly charming) and being a harem girl or a carpet maker's apprentice or something of that sort. It's just there hasn't been much time to write about it sadly.

However tomorrow I get to wear my purple satin 'Thursday' knickers and start the long journey home. You see, I fell in love with a pack of days of the week knickers in the January sale and eventually succumbed to the purchase. They are very sweet in different shades of pastel satin with the day embroidered on the front and two little bows. Knowing that this trip was looming and I was likely to be suffering the dreaded combination of feeling lonely and being under massive pressure at work I saved them. So that every day I've worn a different pair and could see how many days were left (which was somehow comforting on Monday - which was the day from hell) and got to wear a new pair of knickers which always cheers one up. The last pair which are lilac are laid out for me to wear tomorrow alongside my jeans and a t-shirt and other comforting western clothes.

It will be nice to get home, although this will be fleeting as I am off to Dublin for the weekend with Jessica, Eliane, Haron and Martha to visit Emma-Jane. Our sixth form weekend away will see us wreaking general havoc and hitting Nimneach on Saturday night so if you do see us do say hi!

Middle Eastern Reformatory

I am on my travels with work again. Sitting in a distant hotel room as the Call to Prayer echoes out across the land. An ancient city surrounded by mountains full of places to inspire kinky thoughts in a girl like me. Work travel has the ability to be terribly isolating as you battle with strange menus, dodgy hotels and the knowledge that everyone back home is probably having a riot whilst you grapple with spreadsheets on a Saturday afternoon. It can however be a time to be introspective, look inwards and rekindle your batteries away from the madding crowd. It's interesting that after months of being a little indifferent about writing I'm feeling the urge to blog again after just two days away from home. Thus this Arabic week (Saturday-Wednesday) I shall endeavour to bring a blog post every day, mainly because I have been having some fabulous adventures over the last few months, I just haven't really felt like blogging about them.

But first (as I really should be preparing a report for tomorrow but have been at work all day and fancy a break) I bring you the striking similarities between travelling in a strict Islamic country and a Victorian reformatory. This is largely inspired by my incarceration in such an institution a couple of weeks ago, which is a story for when I don't have a giant spreadsheet to populate.

1. Rules about dress. Except the reformatory dresses, ribbons and knee socks were far cuter than the long skirt, baggy top and headscarf that I have to wear here. Plus infractions resulted in a beating rather than being arrested or kidnapped!

2. Cold showers. Unlike most of the other inmates I was somewhat unphased by the cold bath at the reformatory (years of messing about in boats do that to you!) but having had three cold showers since I got here is significantly less kinky and really quite annoying.

3. Powercuts. At the reformatory the powercut caused a minor panic and spoiled my cherry batter pudding whilst everyone rushed around trying to find the fuse box. Here there is no fuse box and eventually the generators start roaring and power returns. This happens several times a day, usually when you are just about to save a vital piece of work. Thankfully Jessica bought me a very interesting flashlight that doubles as a vibrator and is perfect for keeping me amused when the power goes out, I would attach a picture but unfortunately the local internet provider has banned the babeland site as 'pornography' :( On that note it is very amusing to discover what does and doesn't constitute porn over here...

4. Working at the weekend. In the reformatory we had to copy boring phrases from the diary and cook for the masters, here I have to go into the office and pretend to do my job. At some point they're going to figure out that I'm a total incompetent but I'm hoping that when they do they won't beat me...

5. Contraband. At the reformatory we smuggled in huge amounts of alcohol and sweet goodies to nibble on. The dressing table of my room here is piled with Mini Eggs, Dairy Milk and Chupa Chupps lollies as often the food in these places is pretty random and I get grumpy when I get hungry.

6. Inspired kinky thoughts...from being wronged by masters at the reformatory to wondering what it would have been like to be a harem girl in years gone by...yes I have a dirty mind.

7. Regular interventions, although at least the hourly punishments at the reformatory didn't wake you up in the middle of the night like the call to prayer!

So there you have it girls and boys - same difference really :)

Do they really notice...

Or even care? 'They' being men in this case. Us girlies obviously spend a lot of time before a scene thinking about what we're going to wear, how to do our hair and which underwear will go best. Thing is I didn't use to spend quite long thinking about it - I had one set of black quite nice H&M bra and pants and the rest were plain cotton and slightly stretched. I have distinct memories of heading back to the house of my first kinky boyfriend after training having not had a shower and wearing a sexy line in trackies and sports vest. He obsessed over me, was desperate to see me, wanted more than I could ever have given. More bizarrely he continued to obsess over me long after we split up.

So I guess what I'm asking is do men actually like the effort? Do you find us sexier in matching lingerie, corsetted and made-up. When you lift our skirts is it more exciting to find pretty lacy knickers or would faded baggy ones actually be fine?

Strange mood

I'm thinking about the Great Halls of ancient warriors. Braziers lit, ornate hangings on the wall, long feasting tables with wooden benches, probably a roast pig or four. A triumphant local Chieftain or petty King, probably some minstrels playing something warlike with lots of drums. One by one the hostages taken to ensure the good behaviour of the kingdoms he has defeated are presented to him by his arms men. The weeping daughter of the old king he defeated on the first stay, the proud wife of another, the aging mother of a third. Then comes one with whom he is more personally acquainted - the sister of the ruler of the last kingdom to fall. She spits in his face, as defiant as she had been leading her brother's men during those last bitter days of conquest after an arrow to the shoulder took him out of action. It had only been the threat to raze her people's visit that had forced the final surrender. Looking down at her the victor could not decide whether he might have been wiser to take her meeker sister as his hostage or whether this woman might finally provide him with some sport...

I'm also thinking about custard. I have this sudden huge urge for raspberry and blackberry crumble with custard. Unfortunately I have neither raspberries, blackberries nor custard, which is a great shame. I did have a very yummy dinner though (nom!)

I'm also thinking about the boy interest and him being far away. We found a very nice castle to explore last time I visited and I was very disappointed when he refused to spank me when I bent over a four poster bed in a turret room (no windows - just stone gaps - very exciting!) and pulled my knickers down. Apparently it was too risky in an English Heritage property...my argument is that there were all of about four people there. Later on he did deal with me in a little nook off the gun room for being cheeky and misbehaving - it's a hard life! Comedy picture to follow once I can be bothered to upload it from my phone.

I have just been watching Glee - it is possibly the best thing ever. I wish my colleagues would just burst into random tuneful singing every ten minutes as it would make the working day much more interesting. Nine to five life seems to be taking it's toll right now - my boss is being a psycho, I'm bored and it's February and thus extra miserable. I have to go somewhere really dangerous in a few weeks when I'd wanted to see the boy and am not too impressed. Rapidly reaching the conclusion that work does send the brain to sleep.

Am loving my burlesque course (nipple tassels next week!) with our fabulous teacher. It's fun and no one takes it too seriously...and I'm sure learning 4 ways to remove a pair of gloves, 2 ways to remove stockings with a chair and two ways without will come in useful at some point! It's all rather fabulous and la-di-da as have just got back from doing my panto in Ireland. I want sparkling lights, screaming children, wonderful people and the chance to drink and dance until the wee hours to go on and on...

So raise a glass to fun, fabulousness, kinky day dreaming and surreality.

Less random posts to follow when I am in a less flippant mood :)

Sunday Night Blues

I have the Sunday night blues, a bad case of them. No one likes Mondays but I don't remember the impending sense of doom hitting quite so brutally on Sunday nights a year or two ago. I'm happier in my job than I was back then (still frequently bored but at least it's worthwhile) and generally a pretty happy bunny so think it must be a bit of a reflection of the pattern that my life's taking right now. Weekend are either taken up with fabulous kinky fun and events, seeing the boy interest or putting on a show with fabulous people. Hence Sunday nights being a bit of a nadir. I'm played out, on my own with a cold bedroom and mounting pile of washing. Usually some cleaning to do. Tired knowing there's a week ahead that will be less fun and more lonely.

Votes for a 5 day weekend and 2 day week everybody?!

Have a funny phone and story to tell from weekend with the boy interest but should probably go to bed or will be grumpy and tired at work tomorrow :( Hope everyone has had much fun and fabulousness :)

Sweet girl, action girl

A vanilla friend once jokingly said that my problem was that I wasn't sure if I wanted to be Lara Croft or Legally Blonde. At the time I was frantically trying on dresses for a black tie dinner in the forty minute gap between racing on the river and having to jump on a bus to go rock climbing for the weekend. The girly part of me demanded trying on virtually every dress in multiple shops despite the incident taking place during my sylph like days when everything fitted, no questions asked. The action girl was getting impatient, thus trying to save time (if you've never seen someone in the stylish combo of a pink frilly dress teamed with waterproof trousers and walking boots you're missing out) and fretting about whether there would be time to pick up new batteries for my head torch or not. My poor friend was trying to ensure that we made the bus and I had something to wear for the dinner the following night, whilst gently suggesting we did really need to pick up some lunch before leaving.

It does sometimes feel like I have two contrasting personalities that want completely different things. So much so that what makes one happy makes the other edgy. Part of me wants fifties dresses, big petticoats, nice kitchenware and frilly knickers and another part of me wants to trek to Everest Base Camp, raft the Nile, push my body until I scream and is happiest in trackies and a hoodie. On the scene the dichotomy raises it's head as well - sometimes I am in evangelical 'good girl' mode and generally want to please people, look pretty and am a generally mellow happy thing and sometimes I want to battle with the tops, pain, starkness and rebellion. We all have different aspects to our personalities and there are lots of subsets to the sweet and action versions of me but sometimes it does seem very pronounced. What's frustrating is that sometimes I can't really control which head space I get into and that's really frustrating.

Right now I feel equally torn about what to save money I don't have for. Part of me is fawning over What Katie Did's adorable pink lace Sarah range for their new spring collection, flowery Vivien of Holloway Dresses and fabulous Mary Green 7 Deadly Sins knickers in pink silk. I am busy totting up what I could afford when if I gave up what (probably eating). Another part of me is plotting my first proper trip in a couple of years this summer and unsure about whether I fancy trekking in Nepal and Tibet, rafting, mountain biking and diving in Central America or climbing and safariing in Africa. I suspect the next few months are going to consist of a battle of wills as I attempt not to spend savings for the summer on more knickers...otherwise it'll be Bognor Regis...or Watford. And there are so many less silly adrenaline sports to be done there...and I'll have to take more then 2 pairs of knickers!

On another note I'm off down South to see the boy interest for the weekend and my case probably displays the disparity in my tastes rather well - in a carry on size bag I have succeeded in packing a corset, pretty underwear and 3 pairs of stockings alongside a ginormous pair of walking boots, thick socks and my favourite trackies...me...complex...never!