I love writing. Those close to me know how much I enjoy it, and in fact even need to do it. But I can't do it all the time. In order for me to write, in essence, I have to be called to do it. When I feel, I feel deeply. My writing is an outlet for those emotions that are so strong that to contain them would surely be to hurt myself. It is a release and it drains me emotionally to do it. Which is why I only do it every so often, I suppose.
I have thought about asking to be put on prozac or some such but the problem with those medications is that they take away ALL of my emotions. The sadistic side of me loves feeling the emotion, of having to let it out by writing. I like drowning in myself for a short time and making something that I can look back on later and be amazed that *I* wrote it.
I wish that I could write more often than I do, but when the school semester starts, I become entrenched in my school work. Everything else falls to the side. And by everything, I mean EVERYTHING. l can't seem to help it. And then, when the semester is over, it all comes flooding back and the need to see my friends, be with my loved ones overwhelms me and I curl up into a ball because the longing is so bad. Hence the flurry of writing all at once. It's that I don't constantly miss them, it's just that I'm preoccupied. Whenever I get a message from my friends or companions, I try to respond, to show that I'm still here. I appreciate the nudges because sometimes I am so absentminded I'd lose my head if it weren't attached.
Sometimes I get requests to write. I love that it's requested because it shows that people like what I write. It's just... well, it's difficult. Because I have to dig into that ether where my emotions reside and allow myself to slip into it, to be lost for a while before I come back down to see what I've written. I will write again, I promise. I just am not ever sure when I'll get hit in the stomach by my muse.
January 7, 2015
December 8, 2014
Musings of a Little Beastie
"I want more of you. On me. Inside me. Your scent invading my nostrils. I want it all. I don't want it to stop. I want to drown in you. I crave you.
Even now I can feel your hands on me, pressing firm against my skin. I remember your nails dragging down my back; down my legs. I can feel the slickness of your tongue as you run it between my cunt lips, before plunging it inside, tasting me as deeply as possible.
The feel of your hand with my hair wrapped around it, pulling my hair as you fuck me from behind. It only makes me hungrier for more. Remember how I melted as you growled before biting me? I want more."
The little beast growls, pacing the confines of her cage, waiting until she can be unleashed once more.
Even now I can feel your hands on me, pressing firm against my skin. I remember your nails dragging down my back; down my legs. I can feel the slickness of your tongue as you run it between my cunt lips, before plunging it inside, tasting me as deeply as possible.
The feel of your hand with my hair wrapped around it, pulling my hair as you fuck me from behind. It only makes me hungrier for more. Remember how I melted as you growled before biting me? I want more."
The little beast growls, pacing the confines of her cage, waiting until she can be unleashed once more.
December 1, 2014
Different Relationship Energies
There is something to say for NRE (new relationship energy). It has a euphoria that is difficult to be found anywhere else. It leads to blood whistling through one's veins and a heady feeling of being light on your feet. Humming tunes and smiling for absolutely no reason. There isn't much that can match it.
Then there's the trust and passion that comes with a well established relationship. After a time, all the other person has to do is look at you, make a specific movement, or give you a certain touch and you can tell exactly what they want or are thinking. That kind of thing only comes with knowing each other over time. Trust like that can only be established through different situations and being shown that you WILL be ok with that person, no matter what.
And there are those who are past relationships but still present a temptation that tugs at you. You know it is best not to turn down that road again, but the call still wanders in and grips you with a strength you had forgotten about. The remembrance is often better than what is and that is what draws one down the path no longer available. Even so, sometimes that tug and pain associated with is a good door for one's muse to step through. Did I mention my muse is a bitch?
NRE for me is much like obsession or addiction. I can't think about anything other than that person without much effort on my part. It does increase my energy levels but I crave that person like crazy and in a way that type of feeling frightens me and I fight it like mad. I also look for it behind every crook and cranny, whether I realize it or not. I can't seem to help myself sometimes. Then, when I realize what I'm doing, I force myself to pull back, take stock of what is going on, and settle myself back into my corner, until next my mind wanders in that direction. Right now I'm stretched so thin between work, school, and home life that I have little time for much else. That helps keep me in check too.
ERE (established relationship energy) as I will call it for the sake of ease, is comfortable. It's like taking a soft, warm blanket and wrapping it around you on a cold night. I have a few of these and I can only hope that I hold them with the greatest care possible for they are difficult to find and hold. It is difficult for me to trust anyone with the amount of trust I give to these people. I hope they understand how much that means. When I have been with someone in this position, leaving is so difficult. My heart aches for their touch, the sound of their voice in my ears, the feel of their body against mine. That exchange of energy is so very special. I just hate that distance pulls us apart as it does.
I can't really say much more about PRE (past relationship energy) than I said above aside to say that time really does change one's perspective. Goals advance and other things take precedence. Hindsight really is 20/20.
What I can say is that I am thankful for those trusted relationships I do have. And that I miss you.
Then there's the trust and passion that comes with a well established relationship. After a time, all the other person has to do is look at you, make a specific movement, or give you a certain touch and you can tell exactly what they want or are thinking. That kind of thing only comes with knowing each other over time. Trust like that can only be established through different situations and being shown that you WILL be ok with that person, no matter what.
And there are those who are past relationships but still present a temptation that tugs at you. You know it is best not to turn down that road again, but the call still wanders in and grips you with a strength you had forgotten about. The remembrance is often better than what is and that is what draws one down the path no longer available. Even so, sometimes that tug and pain associated with is a good door for one's muse to step through. Did I mention my muse is a bitch?
NRE for me is much like obsession or addiction. I can't think about anything other than that person without much effort on my part. It does increase my energy levels but I crave that person like crazy and in a way that type of feeling frightens me and I fight it like mad. I also look for it behind every crook and cranny, whether I realize it or not. I can't seem to help myself sometimes. Then, when I realize what I'm doing, I force myself to pull back, take stock of what is going on, and settle myself back into my corner, until next my mind wanders in that direction. Right now I'm stretched so thin between work, school, and home life that I have little time for much else. That helps keep me in check too.
ERE (established relationship energy) as I will call it for the sake of ease, is comfortable. It's like taking a soft, warm blanket and wrapping it around you on a cold night. I have a few of these and I can only hope that I hold them with the greatest care possible for they are difficult to find and hold. It is difficult for me to trust anyone with the amount of trust I give to these people. I hope they understand how much that means. When I have been with someone in this position, leaving is so difficult. My heart aches for their touch, the sound of their voice in my ears, the feel of their body against mine. That exchange of energy is so very special. I just hate that distance pulls us apart as it does.
I can't really say much more about PRE (past relationship energy) than I said above aside to say that time really does change one's perspective. Goals advance and other things take precedence. Hindsight really is 20/20.
What I can say is that I am thankful for those trusted relationships I do have. And that I miss you.
October 8, 2014
Feminism
I've seen the word "feminism" thrown around recently. I've seen it used in various ways that are either negatively fashioned towards the subject or overly ecstatic towards the concept. Every time I dig into the idea, it seems I find shades of grey, so to speak. *snerks* Since I can't quite seem to grasp what it is meant to be a "feminist", I can only only say the way I see things and what I feel towards them.
Growing up, I had very few people that held significant positive impact on me. In fat, I can count on one hand with fingers left over the number of them. Out of those people, I cannot remember ever being told I was the weaker sex. If anything, I was told without being told that in some ways, we were stronger. It was in the attitudes and the way situations were handled. It was in the way I was taught how to do and make things. We weren't stronger because of physical strength. It was... other things. Being able to cry when that outlet was needed. Being able to comfort others in various ways. By being ourselves. I can't really explain it beyond that.
As I've grown older, I've determined that I DO like for a man to hold the door for me. More often than not, when I get close to a door, if a man is standing anywhere close to it, they will open it for me. I know it's polite but it makes me feel good inside. It makes smile. And I don't mind standing in front so long as I have that strong profile standing behind me. I walk more confidently. I don't know that I really understand it beyond that.
In looking at times when I've walked close to a male figure, I want their hand at the small of my back. I realize that it's a symbol of "ownership" to other males but it makes me feel... safe. Claimed. I belong. It also means I'm being shown off to others, as if it's a symbol of pride as well. The man I'm with at that moment WANTS it to be seen that I'm claimed, if that makes sense?
I don't say this to say that I can be totally run over and that I shouldn't have any say in what goes on. In fact, anyone that knows me can tell you just how stubborn and hard-headed I can be when I have a certain idea about something. I believe that women SHOULD have voting rights and get paid just as much as men. I believe that women can be and often are just as smart as men at any number of things and we should be treated as such. Our thoughts and opinions should count for an equal amount. Some of us are vapid, bore-some creatures. But so are some men. shrugs
I adore the delicacies and intricacies of politeness as well as ownership. I have absolutely zero issues of being talked of as if I'm not in the room, when the situation is appropriate. I have the need to be treated as a submissive, when I submit to someone. I don't submit halfway. That is a very difficult thing for me to do and I don't fully enjoy it when that has to be done. I submit wholly. Which is why I am EXTREMELY specific with those that I play with. Because I know how I can be hurt if I'm not. Been there, done that. Don't want the t-shirt.
Anyway, back on topic. I positively adore having a door opened for me, a chair pulled out for me, and to be treated as a trophy when the situation calls for it. I love subtle flirting that gets the heart flying and juices flowing, both mentally and physically. There is very little better than a heated conversation that ends up in playtime. Sometimes, especially, when it's several conversations and the anticipation is built up before playtime actually occurs.
As I've stated recently in one of my other writings, I love being shown I'm not the stronger person, that I can be held down by my wrists and fucked within inches of my sanity. But only when it's done by someone that also has brains. I've figured out since a friend pointed it out to me, that I am definitely attracted to someone with lots of yummy brains (or a high level of intelligence for those uncomprehending folks out there). Physical fitness is merely icing on the cake, but it certainly does enhance the flavor when it's added to the intelligence.
What I don't like, is being treated like I AM one of those vapid creatures that can't tell their asshole from a hole in the ground. I want to be able to have a say in a choice that involves me and my possible well-being. There are those that you might not see that happen with, but you can be damned sure guaranteed I have been with them long enough to trust them implicitly and know that if they believed there was even the slightest hint of anything untoward that might happen, I would be fully included in the decision first.
I am strong enough to stand on my own. I am also strong enough to let someone else make decisions for me sometimes. It is so nice to be able to relax, knowing it's not just me looking out for me. That I am safe and can let my hair down, roll over, show my belly and be a pile of girly goo for a while. Men deserve to be applauded for being able to do that. It requires a certain amount of sacrifice on their part, at least in my mind.
Perhaps I'm wrong about the way I feel about all this, but I don't care. It feels right to me and I'm not planning on changing for anyone else or changing anyone else's mind. I like being a puddle of girly goo. I think I'll stick with it for a while. ;-)
Growing up, I had very few people that held significant positive impact on me. In fat, I can count on one hand with fingers left over the number of them. Out of those people, I cannot remember ever being told I was the weaker sex. If anything, I was told without being told that in some ways, we were stronger. It was in the attitudes and the way situations were handled. It was in the way I was taught how to do and make things. We weren't stronger because of physical strength. It was... other things. Being able to cry when that outlet was needed. Being able to comfort others in various ways. By being ourselves. I can't really explain it beyond that.
As I've grown older, I've determined that I DO like for a man to hold the door for me. More often than not, when I get close to a door, if a man is standing anywhere close to it, they will open it for me. I know it's polite but it makes me feel good inside. It makes smile. And I don't mind standing in front so long as I have that strong profile standing behind me. I walk more confidently. I don't know that I really understand it beyond that.
In looking at times when I've walked close to a male figure, I want their hand at the small of my back. I realize that it's a symbol of "ownership" to other males but it makes me feel... safe. Claimed. I belong. It also means I'm being shown off to others, as if it's a symbol of pride as well. The man I'm with at that moment WANTS it to be seen that I'm claimed, if that makes sense?
I don't say this to say that I can be totally run over and that I shouldn't have any say in what goes on. In fact, anyone that knows me can tell you just how stubborn and hard-headed I can be when I have a certain idea about something. I believe that women SHOULD have voting rights and get paid just as much as men. I believe that women can be and often are just as smart as men at any number of things and we should be treated as such. Our thoughts and opinions should count for an equal amount. Some of us are vapid, bore-some creatures. But so are some men. shrugs
I adore the delicacies and intricacies of politeness as well as ownership. I have absolutely zero issues of being talked of as if I'm not in the room, when the situation is appropriate. I have the need to be treated as a submissive, when I submit to someone. I don't submit halfway. That is a very difficult thing for me to do and I don't fully enjoy it when that has to be done. I submit wholly. Which is why I am EXTREMELY specific with those that I play with. Because I know how I can be hurt if I'm not. Been there, done that. Don't want the t-shirt.
Anyway, back on topic. I positively adore having a door opened for me, a chair pulled out for me, and to be treated as a trophy when the situation calls for it. I love subtle flirting that gets the heart flying and juices flowing, both mentally and physically. There is very little better than a heated conversation that ends up in playtime. Sometimes, especially, when it's several conversations and the anticipation is built up before playtime actually occurs.
As I've stated recently in one of my other writings, I love being shown I'm not the stronger person, that I can be held down by my wrists and fucked within inches of my sanity. But only when it's done by someone that also has brains. I've figured out since a friend pointed it out to me, that I am definitely attracted to someone with lots of yummy brains (or a high level of intelligence for those uncomprehending folks out there). Physical fitness is merely icing on the cake, but it certainly does enhance the flavor when it's added to the intelligence.
What I don't like, is being treated like I AM one of those vapid creatures that can't tell their asshole from a hole in the ground. I want to be able to have a say in a choice that involves me and my possible well-being. There are those that you might not see that happen with, but you can be damned sure guaranteed I have been with them long enough to trust them implicitly and know that if they believed there was even the slightest hint of anything untoward that might happen, I would be fully included in the decision first.
I am strong enough to stand on my own. I am also strong enough to let someone else make decisions for me sometimes. It is so nice to be able to relax, knowing it's not just me looking out for me. That I am safe and can let my hair down, roll over, show my belly and be a pile of girly goo for a while. Men deserve to be applauded for being able to do that. It requires a certain amount of sacrifice on their part, at least in my mind.
Perhaps I'm wrong about the way I feel about all this, but I don't care. It feels right to me and I'm not planning on changing for anyone else or changing anyone else's mind. I like being a puddle of girly goo. I think I'll stick with it for a while. ;-)
Internal Arguments Suck
Roughness. It has it's place. I love love LOVE it when someone gets rough with me. Let me clarify- I'm not talking about mean rough but... dominant rough. That's the only way I can really describe it. When he grabs you and throws you on the bed, forcing your legs open before you can catch your breath and then he thrusts into you, taking you for all you're worth. It's fucking hot.
I have a (possibly) little known desire for a take-down scene. The problem I see with this actually happening is that I don't fight back. I mean I do have the desire, generally when I get close to my cycle where I long for the fight, but I can't make a move to be the one to start the fight. I get a bit pissy and angsty but no one responds, probably because it's not something I really talk about. If someone pushes me into it, I possibly could fight back. I think. It's always possible I could surprise myself and fight back for all I'm worth but I have no idea what would happen. I doubt it though.
I can tell you from past experience that when I get into a situation where violence is possible, I tend to melt and then slink my way out. I can't explain it. There has only been one time in my life that I have raised a hand to another person and I blacked out when it happened so I don't even remember it.
I say all of this to say that even though I'm meek in action, there's a lion inside that does want out occasionally. I just haven't figured out how to bring her out yet, I suppose. But I crave the roughness. It takes away my breath and makes my eyes roll back in my head. It makes me wet. Being pushed against a wall and kissed like there won't be a tomorrow. Wet. Melty puddle of girl wet. Just like being bitten. It's a heady feeling when it's done right. Enough to make me dizzy from arousal.
Therein lies my argument with myself. I feel like I'm less because I don't fight back. The desire to do so is there. For some reason, I just can't bring myself to do it. Is having the girl get melty when a guy gets rough with her a turn on for him? Or is it a turn off? I'm sure there are as many answers out there to that question as there are revolutions around the sun but it's still there for me. How do I communicate that yes, rough can be good, even if the reaction received is me melting into a puddle? That I want and in fact sometimes even need it?
One time in my Taiji class, we were doing take-downs. When it was my turn to get taken down, as I was flying through the air, I literally giggled and went, "WEEEE!" as I was falling. Then wanted to do it again. So the fight continues within me, the wolf and the panther circling inside wanting to rip through and join the fight but the fox slinking back and the kitten rolling over to show her belly outweighing them 9 times out of 10.
*sighs*
I have a (possibly) little known desire for a take-down scene. The problem I see with this actually happening is that I don't fight back. I mean I do have the desire, generally when I get close to my cycle where I long for the fight, but I can't make a move to be the one to start the fight. I get a bit pissy and angsty but no one responds, probably because it's not something I really talk about. If someone pushes me into it, I possibly could fight back. I think. It's always possible I could surprise myself and fight back for all I'm worth but I have no idea what would happen. I doubt it though.
I can tell you from past experience that when I get into a situation where violence is possible, I tend to melt and then slink my way out. I can't explain it. There has only been one time in my life that I have raised a hand to another person and I blacked out when it happened so I don't even remember it.
I say all of this to say that even though I'm meek in action, there's a lion inside that does want out occasionally. I just haven't figured out how to bring her out yet, I suppose. But I crave the roughness. It takes away my breath and makes my eyes roll back in my head. It makes me wet. Being pushed against a wall and kissed like there won't be a tomorrow. Wet. Melty puddle of girl wet. Just like being bitten. It's a heady feeling when it's done right. Enough to make me dizzy from arousal.
Therein lies my argument with myself. I feel like I'm less because I don't fight back. The desire to do so is there. For some reason, I just can't bring myself to do it. Is having the girl get melty when a guy gets rough with her a turn on for him? Or is it a turn off? I'm sure there are as many answers out there to that question as there are revolutions around the sun but it's still there for me. How do I communicate that yes, rough can be good, even if the reaction received is me melting into a puddle? That I want and in fact sometimes even need it?
One time in my Taiji class, we were doing take-downs. When it was my turn to get taken down, as I was flying through the air, I literally giggled and went, "WEEEE!" as I was falling. Then wanted to do it again. So the fight continues within me, the wolf and the panther circling inside wanting to rip through and join the fight but the fox slinking back and the kitten rolling over to show her belly outweighing them 9 times out of 10.
*sighs*
Unknowingly I Missed Something...
I've been trying since DragonCon to figure out how to write about this. There was one event especially that stuck with me above almost all else. A moment when three of us (including me) were lying together on a bed, contented to just be with each other for that piece of time.
Then a hand drifted down softly along my side, until it found that sensitive spot; the spot that takes my breath away, literally, and almost tickles but doesn't quite, but mostly feels oh so good. That spot that makes me squeak and stop talking because my stomach muscles involuntarily clench because it's so sensitive. I was asked if it tickled. I responded it didn't, but that it felt good and that I also couldn't talk while I was being touched there.
The touch to make this happen also has to be done in a certain way. It has to be very light, just enough barely feel. And when it's done right, it's a delightful agony that I don't wish to be spared. ;-)
So the caresses and touches continued, leading to a very much unexpected but oh so needed subspace. I think I continued making little noises for I am not sure how long. Eventually I said something, which caused my companions to realize I was thinking again. And then the touching started once more and for a second time, my brain took another siesta.
Other fun things took place after that, but those things are not what this particular post is about. This one is about that touch, and my realization that it is something I have missed, without knowing it. The sensation I haven't felt in so long that when given, completely enraptured me and sent me reeling among the stars for a short time. Oh how I had missed it.
Over the years, I believe I had unknowingly transferred into that realm of pain tolerance, of seeing how much I could take before I cried red, just because. I can certainly take more than I used to but that's not what it's always all about. Sometime there should be time for the soft as well as the hard. And sometimes time for both. Variety IS the spice of life after all, right?
I can only say thank you to my wonderful companions for that moment because without them, it wouldn't have happened. Even now it brings warm fuzzies and a smile to my face to think of it.
More, pretty please?
Then a hand drifted down softly along my side, until it found that sensitive spot; the spot that takes my breath away, literally, and almost tickles but doesn't quite, but mostly feels oh so good. That spot that makes me squeak and stop talking because my stomach muscles involuntarily clench because it's so sensitive. I was asked if it tickled. I responded it didn't, but that it felt good and that I also couldn't talk while I was being touched there.
The touch to make this happen also has to be done in a certain way. It has to be very light, just enough barely feel. And when it's done right, it's a delightful agony that I don't wish to be spared. ;-)
So the caresses and touches continued, leading to a very much unexpected but oh so needed subspace. I think I continued making little noises for I am not sure how long. Eventually I said something, which caused my companions to realize I was thinking again. And then the touching started once more and for a second time, my brain took another siesta.
Other fun things took place after that, but those things are not what this particular post is about. This one is about that touch, and my realization that it is something I have missed, without knowing it. The sensation I haven't felt in so long that when given, completely enraptured me and sent me reeling among the stars for a short time. Oh how I had missed it.
Over the years, I believe I had unknowingly transferred into that realm of pain tolerance, of seeing how much I could take before I cried red, just because. I can certainly take more than I used to but that's not what it's always all about. Sometime there should be time for the soft as well as the hard. And sometimes time for both. Variety IS the spice of life after all, right?
I can only say thank you to my wonderful companions for that moment because without them, it wouldn't have happened. Even now it brings warm fuzzies and a smile to my face to think of it.
More, pretty please?
DragonCon Recap
It's time for me to recap this year's DragonCon. It was so much better than last year. Last year had it's moments but it was not a normal con. Therefore, no more speaking about it. This year one of my wonderful bestest female buddies stayed in my room and it was even more awesome than I had pictured.
I was very careful about my stress levels and only had one instance where my brain shut down on me. It was just after we'd gotten into the room and had retrieved our badges. The sudden letdown of "everything is actually working out" that my brain decided to go foggy. I remember sitting on the bed vegging on my kindle for a bit while chatting with my con roomies, but I couldn't tell you anything about what was said. It finally cleared up and I was able to carry on as normal. I am incredibly happy it only happened that once.
Later that evening, we met up with our other friends and from then on, the rest of the con was a complete festival of awesome. I did not make it to the walk of fame but somehow, I don't care. I made several rounds of the dealer rooms and ended up bringing home 3 corsets, that I absolutely adore. I have a feeling this is just the beginning of that... giggles
I dressed up as Glinda on Friday and had a ball with that. I went in costume to the FL meet and greet. Someone started blowing bubbles, which completely distracted me, mid-sentence. I think a few people found some humor surrounding that. Then on Saturday I ended up being an unintentional Daphne.
I tried to avoid terribly loud places because of my hearing issues, but for the most part, I was able to cope much better than I had expected. There were times during the con that I was very unsure of myself (which happens at times), but by the time Sunday night got here, that was well taken care of thanks to some of the most wonderful people I know. I think I had the worst of my con drop after getting back to my room Sunday night but I was still not quite ready to come home on Monday until after my friends had left and I had gotten one last taste of the crowds in the dealer rooms.
Then it was time. Time to trek back to the car. Time to make the trip home to be met at the door by hubs, mini, and the cat, all at the same time. sighs
Over all, it was a huge success. I am still suffering from missing my dear ones but I will be ok. Eventually. Another con past us, and a year to go for the next one. I have a room and I have pre-ordered my badge. Now to plan costumes!
I was very careful about my stress levels and only had one instance where my brain shut down on me. It was just after we'd gotten into the room and had retrieved our badges. The sudden letdown of "everything is actually working out" that my brain decided to go foggy. I remember sitting on the bed vegging on my kindle for a bit while chatting with my con roomies, but I couldn't tell you anything about what was said. It finally cleared up and I was able to carry on as normal. I am incredibly happy it only happened that once.
Later that evening, we met up with our other friends and from then on, the rest of the con was a complete festival of awesome. I did not make it to the walk of fame but somehow, I don't care. I made several rounds of the dealer rooms and ended up bringing home 3 corsets, that I absolutely adore. I have a feeling this is just the beginning of that... giggles
I dressed up as Glinda on Friday and had a ball with that. I went in costume to the FL meet and greet. Someone started blowing bubbles, which completely distracted me, mid-sentence. I think a few people found some humor surrounding that. Then on Saturday I ended up being an unintentional Daphne.
I tried to avoid terribly loud places because of my hearing issues, but for the most part, I was able to cope much better than I had expected. There were times during the con that I was very unsure of myself (which happens at times), but by the time Sunday night got here, that was well taken care of thanks to some of the most wonderful people I know. I think I had the worst of my con drop after getting back to my room Sunday night but I was still not quite ready to come home on Monday until after my friends had left and I had gotten one last taste of the crowds in the dealer rooms.
Then it was time. Time to trek back to the car. Time to make the trip home to be met at the door by hubs, mini, and the cat, all at the same time. sighs
Over all, it was a huge success. I am still suffering from missing my dear ones but I will be ok. Eventually. Another con past us, and a year to go for the next one. I have a room and I have pre-ordered my badge. Now to plan costumes!
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