What am I doing with my life?!

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Well, ladies and gents, I am slacking as hard as a horny toad on hashish.

We’ve reached that infuriating stage in the writing process I like to call, “The Long, Dark Teatime of the Soul” (Thank you, Douglas Adams). Every book, every time, I reach the third quarter of the writing and all manner of mental capacity shits the bed.

Shits it!

It Shits the bed!

So now I’m sitting here knee deep in a Youtube hole as I wait for 3:50PM so I can go see LOGAN in the theater and cry like a pregnant woman in the third trimester when she sees a tiger cub yawning.

“Seeing LOGAN isn’t writing, Michaela,” you say.
Oh, don’t I know, but let’s be honest – seeing LOGAN isn’t the least appropriate use of my procrastination time.

Things Michaela has done OTHER THAN WRITE this week –

1) Set up a sewing table in the dining room, despite not sewing in months.
2) Cleaned out the refrigerator.
3) Sat on my ass and contemplated the meaning of things.
4) Napped.
5) Apply Castor Oil to my scalp and eyebrows, and a charcoal blackhead strip to my nose.
6) Listened to the sound of frigid wind blowing outside, praise the gods that winter isn’t over and perhaps we’re a bit further from global catastrophe in the form of Climate Change while at the same time dreading the sheer notion of leaving the house and freezing my tits off!
7) Sat on my toilet while staring at my phone for a total period of two separate half hour sessions.

It’s bad, ladies and gents. It’s not good.

So as we grab boots and coats to head to the theater, I hereby vow to write 2k words before bed this evening, minimum.

Don’t believe me?! You sound like a levelheaded individual. Congratulations.

No matter! I vow to WRITE MOAR! And post a snippet for all to see. Wish me luck. And the strength to survive sobbing through LOGAN for the next two hours. WHEEEEE!!!

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Why would anyone use this for anything else?

I’ve never understood the people who want to grow plants in such a space. I mean sure, let’s get some floral apocalypse going up in here, but what I want this room for – what I will use this room for when I buy my future house that will obviously have a conservatory is – well, it’s obvious.

I’m going to write in it. When I’m not shagging my true love in it, obviously.

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Shagging and writing. Clearest of all winners. For those are the things that would make ME bloom. 😛

The Rising Voice Against 50 Shades

Disclaimer: I have never read 50 Shades of Grey. I know it was initially written as Twilight fan-fiction, I know that it contains scenes of extreme BDSM and tampon retrieval, and I have heard the writing isn’t entirely spectacular. All of that aside, here we go

There is a rising tide of people who have asked that the public boycott 50 Shades when it hits theaters, and no I’m not talking about the evangelists and religious right. I’m talking about everyone from feminists to active participants in the fetish community making a public call to stand against domestic violence by keeping their cash in their pockets. Rising disdain for the 50 Shades trilogy has begun to pique my interest into what might be causing such uproar. I read Anne Rice’s Beauty trilogy, I know how randy the notion of BDSM and feigned force in sexual interactions can be. Hell, I’ve written some pretty graphic shorts that involve the illusion of force and extreme dominance. I will admit openly that I couldn’t possibly be happy in a relationship with a man who isn’t capable of extreme dominance in the bedroom. Yet, 50 Shades doesn’t portray the subtle give and take of a Dominant male partner, taking as he pleases in the sack, all with express consent and to the enjoyment of the one being dominated.

boycott50shadesI’ve been told that the character of Christian Grey not only denies his female partner the right to consent, or to deny such, he doesn’t take any time to relieve the after effects of extreme dominance. Getting held down and annihilated is all well and good if the man doing the annihilating wants you to feel good, wants you to feel safe. That is a major part of the BDSM lifestyle – consent, consent, consent, and always a sense of safety. Christian Grey does not offer such to his partner. Or in other words, when she says no, he still forces her to have sex, during brutal sadism when she uses the safe word, he ignores her, and to top it all off, he doesn’t snuggle her back to the real world thereafter. (This is all hearsay)

Damn it, if you smack my ass too hard, you better rub it after!

I understand the allure of these stories, the notion of extreme dominance can be very arousing, but when that dominance comes with true sadism, there is no reward for the one on the receiving end of it. As a result, I do understand where their chagrin comes from, but I ask you – Are you going to go see 50 Shades? Do you agree with their beliefs that the story is a terrible portrayal of a healthy BDSM relationship? Or is the hype too much to resist?

While you’re thinking about your answer, watch this.