Why do you fuck me like that?
With your heart out

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A mix of things...

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My significant other stumbled across my last blog regarding her request. Let’s just say that she, yes she, wasn’t so thrilled. The birthday gift ended before it even began. I have to admit that I’m a bit relieved. I know that the frequency of sexual intimacy is not a measure of our commitment. Pause. Now I can savor the decadence of a spontaneous needy fix. Hooray for small miracles. After some thought, I think way too much, I believe that her request was an attempt to keep me near. She thinks that she is losing me. With great sadness, I ended my internship last Friday. I’ve had an amazing summer. I will miss the incredibly talented lawyers in the public interest field. They are rebel rousers, social movers and change makers—fighters of unpopular causes. Charles Houston was right; lawyers are either social parasites or social engineers. I am no parasite. I will miss my clients, women at point zero, struggling to regain control of their lives. I have faith in their ability to change an...
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Lovely Little Things

From scanning my past few postings, I realize that you may think that I am deeply depressed and dark—this, I am not. It just so happens that I have used this space to free the unmentionables, and you, my lovely readers, have been present to witness such occurrences. If you could see beyond these key strokes you would know that I am actually quite light, flirty and fun. I live hard. I laugh hard. I love harder. So today, I’ve made a list of twelve little things that I love. For they are the little things that move me so. 1. the smell of skin 2. lying naked underneath my warm, soft, faux fur blanket 3. sipping sweet southern brewed iced tea 4. touching the warm spaces of my lover’s body 5. listening to rain fall to the pavement in the midnight hour 6. two glasses of cranberry juice and vodka before a night of dancing and pure escapism 7. road trips with my favorite people and music 8. flirty exchanges coated with lust and the potential for danger 9. candles and Will Downing aft...
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THE SEVEN YEAR ITCH

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In exactly seven days, I will step into my fourth body. Most people are unaware that as humans the bone in our skeletons completely renews itself every seven years. So while you sit at work, drive your kids to school, and make love, your bones are constantly shifting and re-growing—discarding things unwanted and unused—the ultimate refinement. Every seven years, we become our most magnificent selves—the updated and amended versions. In exactly seven days, I will be 28 years old. I have to admit that I am not exactly where I once thought I would be at this time. In college, I had imagined that I would have a stable career, moving up the ranks as a powerful attorney. I imagined that I would be starting a family with a man that I loved—living behind a white picket fence, the embodiment of the American dream. I imagined that I’d have the wind at my back—all my loved ones here to enjoy the fruits of my success. However, at the threshold of my fourth body, I am met by the realities of my lif...
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