On Monday I’m going to go be on a radio program. Radio Valencia. Sex Cels is the program. 10pm-12pm. I was asked to talk about catharsis and healing.

Last night I went to the wet munch with Noah for his first trip. Deity went for his first time. I played with Cupid. Other folks were around and I waved and kissed a few more people.

My butt hurts.

I’m thinking about what it means to process pain. What does it mean to take something for someone? What do I like? What am I doing for me?

When Cupid was beating me we had some banter around kissing. He said he felt kind of uncomfortable because if he kisses me he wants to fuck me and we are in a crowded bar and my husband was there.

That was funny.

I grabbed his head and kissed him. Whoops too hard and we slammed teeth and I hurt him. Snort. Well, no one is perfect. I did better on the other kisses. (I hope.)

I appreciate how willing everyone in my life is to share. No one is even slightly obnoxious about me reaching out a free hand to yet another person. I also appreciate how many silly jokes were dropped into my comments. That made me smile.

Yay.

My fancy tights from New York got ripped up. Good thing they are just clothes and they don’t matter. I was having fun grinding my ass on Cupid’s crotch. Friendly fire casualty. It happens.

I don’t have the hand spoons to type about my masochism right now. Which is a shame. I want to figure this out, but ow.

I handle different kinds of pain from different kinds of people with different degrees of acceptance or resistance. Why can Cupid hit me like that and I get upset with Noah? I don’t know yet.

But I’m going to think about it.