What I’m doing next…AKA what I learned this summer…


After months of radio silence, I spoke to my ex a few days ago (my cub, so to speak).

dont talk to me

I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it. I mean, we haven’t reconciled, he’s still 3,000 some odd miles away from me, and he still has made no plans to come back any time soon. But I will say it was good to hear him say that what happened between us wasn’t my fault at all. It was good to hear him say that leaving to take the job was a bad decision, and he regrets it. Since he’d been gone I’d spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I did wrong this time, how had I managed to drive him away, etc. So it was good to know that I didn’t drive him away. He said he honestly felt that I hated him for leaving and for what he’d done. He admitted that he handled everything very badly, and he let me rant and rave and cry and yell at him without trying to justify anything. He said, “I need to hear this, so I’m just listening.” He let me let out every bit of my hurt. I know it hurt him to truly witness my pain – I could hear it in his voice when he spoke, and for the first time since I’ve know him he spoke from a totally humble and non-defensive place, and I commend him for doing it. He never cut me short, never tried to redirect the discussion when I was yelling at him full throttle about how much he hurt me. He took it, graciously and gracefully and just continued to say “yes I did those things, and I’m so sorry I did. You didn’t deserve any of those things. You were nothing but good to me, and I hate that I hurt you.” He took full responsibility for our demise, and while it may not be entirely his fault (because maybe I could have been more patient with him), the fact that he was focused in understanding his fault and not trying to show me mine was important to me. So often when you’re telling someone about what they’ve done to hurt you, instead of taking it in, they want to deflect and throw back to you about what you have done to them. He did none of that. He stood firm in his humility and acknowledged everything he mishandled when we broke up. And of course it felt good to hear him tell me how much he missed me, and how much he still cared for me. I can’t say if any of this will lead to reconciliation, but I can say that my respect for him has been restored. That is more than I can say for a lot of my exes.  What he did is very difficult for me to do, and I appreciate that he did it. It did remind me that I do miss him very much, but for the first time since he’s been gone I’m okay with missing him. Maybe this was something he needed to learn, and maybe this was the only way he was ever going to learn whatever the lesson in this was for him. Maybe if we do ever reconcile, this time apart from me will make him value me to the extent he should. Maybe once its all said and done, this will end up being a good thing. Or maybe not.

something you may lose

But either way, I’m good with what happens.


I have officially decided to return to school. I am completing a second BA at University of Maryland University College in Communications (to go with the English degree, which will take about 18 months), and my plan is to immediately enroll in the Master’s Degree program in Creative Writing at Hopkins University.

UMUC logo hopkins a and s

From there I plan to start teaching English and Writing on the college level. At some point I’d like to find a way to incorporate some studying about sexual psychology in there too, of maybe even pursue a second Master’s degree in some type of sexual psychology major, because in my college teaching I’d really like to focus on the study of and the writing of erotica in a very serious, scholarly, academic way, or to incorporate the study of sexuality with creative writing (and I’m gonna change my name to Anais Nin too!) I want erotica to no longer be a half-assed dirty little literary secret. I want it to be as well written, well constructed and well executed as any other literary genre. I’m very excited about my upcoming studies, though going through the financial aid process is a bit frustrating. But my poverty and my smarts are coming in handy for a change, and between grants and scholarships I’ve found for women of a certain age returning to school, I think I may not have to come out of pocket much for this. Some people have asked if I’m nervous about returning to school at my age, and I have to say I’m not. I am completely confident in my abilities to do this, so bring on the studies. I’m ready!


I have finally felt motivated enough to start writing some stuff that I want to record. Like a whole project.


Me in the studio a few years back.

I’ve had a very strange relationship with recording for a long time now, mostly because recording my work is so tied up with one of my other exes.  Thinking about working on a new recorded project means revisiting that relationship in a way, because the two were so closely tied together. So every time I’ve thought I was ready to record again, I found that I really wasn’t and it didn’t go well. Plus I’d have to go through the trouble of finding a producer I could work with, and to be honest, I’d have to deal with the fear that the producer/artist relationship might become personal again like it did the first time. The first time I really didn’t see it coming at all, and by the time I realized the man in question was really serious about his pursuit of me, it was much too late to stop it. By this time I was working with him on my project, we were spending a lot of time together, sharing a lot, defenses were dropped and boundaries disappeared and once all that happened, things got real personal real quick. I don’t want that to happen again. But the passing of time has done a lot to help heal even this particular hurt, and I think I’m becoming more ready to work on my next project. I have a producer/studio picked out that I think I can really do some great work with. I was very nervous about reaching out to him, but I did, and he was very receptive to talking to me about my project – that made me feel really good! We will be talking in a couple of weeks, and if that goes well, I hope to be recording my next project by the year’s end.



My birthday is August 24th, and for me my birthday has always signified the beginning of summer’s end. Labor Day isn’t too far behind, and so my celebrating of my born day is also my celebrating the passing of my favorite season, summer. The summer wasn’t so much learning as it was re-enforcing things I’ve learned. I was reminded that I really do have people who care about me around me, and its okay to lean on them, reach out to them, and to go to them when I need someone. I was reminded I still have a tremendous amount of living to do, and I’m blessed that I still have the health and strength to do so. I learned being single certainly doesn’t mean being alone or being lonely. I was reminded that I really do love writing, and performing, and while what I do isn’t for everyone, I’m damn good at what I do and I can be proud of it. My life doesn’t look like I thought it would at this time, but honestly, how it looks isn’t that bad.

Let my birthday celebrating commence!



Erotica on a rainy night…

It’s been a while since I did this…here we go…

Brian McKnight – Anytime

I know I’ve really come to terms with a breakup when I find I can bear the good memories of that person and that relationship…especially the good sexual memories. Being able to reminisce in my head about the good times we shared in bed (or in car, in park, in elevator, in stairwell, etc.) without pain or resentment represents healing for me. But that takes a lot of time.

breoken heartOnce things have gone badly with that person and we’ve parted company, for a long time after I want to hate them, to continue to hold onto the anger and bitterness. I don’t want to remember the good times, the smiles, the private jokes, and the shared intimacies. I hate that they even happened. Its more pain than anger to be honest — I’m usually so distraught when my relationships end I just can’t stand to think of the happy times. The awfulness of losing that man I loved so fully and completely aches so badly; the places in my heart and spirit are so hurt and damaged, I cannot go near those wounded places for quite some time. To think of the joy that once existed with him is an affront to what I feel now, so the wonderful memories are squelched down, way down, buried deep in my heart behind walls of defenses.

broken heart cartoonBut if you’re willing to admit you are wounded, time does heal all wounds. And last night I found many of my wounds are healed, because I thought about him, about us, and didn’t feel sad angry or hurt. I didn’t cry or scream or throw anything. I simply recalled a moment, the pleausure I experienced with him in a particular moment, and that was it. I experienced the memory of his desire to please me, and my desire to please him, and the extreme sensual bliss that ensued. I experienced all these things, and I enjoyed remembering them.

rainy nightThere was a thunderstorm last night. As the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed, I lay in my bed and turned my head towards my open window so I could really smell the rain. Its not often that you really smell the rain in the city, so I sniffed at the breezes blowing through my window with great pleasure. I could actually smell Mother Nature in the breeze I smelled clouds and sky and stars and wind, and wet wet rain. I parted my lips to fully taste the breeze, inhaling as the thunder rolled again. I heard it move from one side of the night sky to the other, and lightning brightened the dark ever so briefly before it thundered again. And as the clouds finally released the rain to the earth, I thought of another rainy night long ago.

Heavy DownpourI remember the head of his bed was against the window, so when it thundered really loud and hard, you could sometimes feel the vibrations against the windowsill, and it would sometimes shake the headboard. This night the trembling woke me up. He was still asleep, still nuzzled against my back where he had ended up after the monumental sex session that had happened a couple of hours before. I could hear him gently snoring, and he did not move when the thunder clapped again, louder this time. I knew he wouldn’t wake up; he never did once our lovemaking had happily sent him off to dreamland. So I listened to the thunder, watched the lightning make crazy shadows on his bedroom wall, and watched the curtains lift in the pre-rain breeze. I could smell the rain that night too, and I inhaled deeply over and over, as if I might somehow cleanse my insides if I breathed in enough of the glorious air. And when it began to rain, gentle at first, and then harder and harder, I couldn’t help but think of the hours before when there was as much thunder and wetness in this room as there was outside now.
heart in the rainAs I felt the fever rise between my legs, I sighed a bit sadly. I never woke him up in the middle of the night for sex, especially if we’d had one of our marathons like we’d just had. It just seemed inconsiderate…I knew he worked 12-16 hour days and truly needed his rest. And he could sleep through anything, so there was no chance that he’d awaken. So I listened to the storm, and the beat of the raindrops on the sidewalk outside, the bright flashes of light, the booming thunder, the sweet scented breezes all conspired to drive my hands closer and close to my clit. I could feel the heat radiating from it long before I touched it, and when I did, a droplet of moisture almost like a small tear eased out of me. I closed my eyes and sighed, silently wishing all kinds of wanton things as the rain fell. One finger, then two, I gently massaged myself to get some relief so I could fall back to sleep. But then, out nowhere his gentle snoring stopped and I felt a pair of lips on the back of my neck. I froze. I felt a hand reach around my body towards my breasts as his lips kissed the back of my neck, and as he did he found my arm lying across my body, hand stretched downward. He paused, touched my arm, and then following it down to my pussy. His index finger quickly joined mine, and I drew my breath in sharply. I wondered if he would drift back to sleep, and as I felt his tongue licking my skin, I felt my rain falling harder. And just as the storm outside grew louder and more insistent, I felt him move his hand from my pussy, turn me over, and his mouth found my breasts. I exhaled happily, knowing he was fully awake.raindropsLast night I thought of him as it rained. I remembered that stormy night we spent in his bed, getting little sleep. I remembered his mouth on my pussy, lips and tongue madly kissing my clit as if his life depended on my satisfaction. I remembered pulling his hair. I remembered how the sounds of the storm outside seemed to fade in the distance as he moved his mouth across my skin, stopping here and there to nibble, lick and taste. I thought of him and how he entered me just as a huge clap of thunder shook the headboard, and I felt that I was being undone, though I was already naked. I remember that the lightning flashed and I briefly saw his face, smiling with lips parted as he moaned, back arched and his slow slippery descent into me continued. My pussy welcomed him back into my folds with a burst of wetness and tight clenching against his dick. I remembered the sound of him through the now far-away-sounding storm, I remembered the sexual call and response between us, mild sensual obscenities exchanging to and fro as we made each other come. Tonight as it rained I remembered this part of him, the part that gave me pleasure, the part that was so hard to face when I was hurting and grieving the loss of him. But tonight when it rained, all I remembered was how good it felt, how good he felt that rainy night long ago. I faced the memories of our passion, and smiled though the memories of my rain that night, and the rain falling from me now at the memory. I wasn’t angry or sad of even mad . I was just glad that it happened, and I looked forward to the next time I feel that way.

Even if its not a rainy night the next time it does.

rain on pine branch

Peace and passion,

We interrupt my usual ranting and raving to go ‘AGAINST THE GRAIN’ with Femi the Drifish and The Out of Water eXperience!

I’m having a particularly hard time getting my next blog entry together — its about partnerships and I promise it will be quite insightful — but just because I’m being remiss in my blogging is no reason why you should not be entertained.

So, in the meantime and in between time I present to you…’AGAINST THE GRAIN’, the latest single by FEMI THE DRIFISH AND THE OUT OF WATER EXPERIENCE!


Now I don’t co-sign a lot of local artists because many of them suck…well in my opinion they suck. Now they have never asked me if they suck, but even if they did, I’d do what most people do and not be particularly forthcoming about my opinion. Most people don’t really want to know what you think of what they do — I learned that a LONG time ago. It’s all well and fine to say “but you should give people honest feedback”, and I do agree with that to a point. But I’m more of a proponent for timing than honesty. What that means is I am going to try to wait for the best time, place, and circumstances for my honest feedback, so it can get the best possible reception.

But in this case that’s all irrelevant because Femi and crew are awesome.

Click the image below to hear the track!


I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Femi’s transition from spoken word lyricist to frontman for a lyrical-soul-rock=hip-hop band. His willingness to push the envelope beyond where spoken word typically ends has been personally inspiring for me, and best of all, he and his band ROCK!

So please check out AGAINST THE GRAIN, download it for FREE, AND check out Femi and crew performing it LIVE on Thursday, August 22nd at 98Rock’s ROCK THE DOCK live outdoor concert in front of the Hard Rock Cafe downtown at The Inner Harbor!


rock the dock flyer