Scene Report: We’re playing again!

This is a couple weeks ago now, but I still want to write it up. This was the most we’ve been able to do in over a year and a half for various reasons.

Jalan had me spread out a quilt on the (hardwood) floor next to our bed. She applied “locky bits”–locking leather play collar, wrist and ankle cuffs, and bondage belt. She told me to kneel while we caressed each other, then got me on all fours while she teased me and lightly slapped with her favorite symbol of power, her riding crop.

We moved to the bed, where she chained me in the strictest spreadeagle we’ve done in quite a long time–as strict as anything we’ve done since I got sick. Then put on the blindfold. I had a brief moment of wondering whether that was good night and she was going to sleep on the bedspread… My joints (elbows, in particular) wouldn’t have held up very long before I’d have had to safeword out, but sometimes it’s worth it to us.

But she was gathering sensation toys. Rabbit fur, vampire glove, soft leather glove, suede flogger, I’m not sure what else. She spent a while teasing me with the various sensations, then got out the lube and mounted me. The chains were tight enough I could barely thrust, which Jalan was fine with. She knows which angles from on top get me off quickly and which ones don’t. So she teased me for a while as she got herself off, then let me come.

She then unlocked one limb at a time from her side of the bed, rolled me over, and re-attached it on my side. My ankles could barely budge; I had some more freedom with my arms. Still not going anywhere of course. We said our good nights, and I had a delightfully uncomfortable night until she unlocked me when Dragonlet woke toward morning.

We’re getting (taking) it back!

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Posted by on November 24, 2017 in Play


So we did a thing today

A thing neither of us ever expected to do. We joined a church. A Christian church, at that.

I grew up Catholic, spent some years at Friends’ (Quaker) Meetings, and am agnostic. Jalan grew up evangelical conservative, rejected the narrowness of that world and especially its treatment of her as a woman, and has not sought a church since, though still identified as Christian.

I’m still agnostic. She still has a lot of history with and emotional loading about churches and especially their hierarchies. But the one we found is ok with all that.

We first learned of it when we moved to North Carolina a few years ago, and it had made the news filing a First Amendment infringement lawsuit against North Carolina’s Amendment One (“marriage shall be between a man and a woman,” etc.). We looked them up online and found the broadest, most progressive statement of inclusiveness I’ve ever seen for a Christian church, let alone in the South–it included gender identity, mental illness, and so many other things. That was enough to get us to try it.

It is a welcoming place. They’ve had an interim pastor for the last two years who happens to be lesbian. She’s formerly Southern Baptist. (I remember noticing she wore a slightly tailored cassock–gathered at the back. Then I had to figure out why that seemed strange to me. Oh, yeah, Catholic. Right.) Their most recent ministerial intern transitioned to his gender while in the role. There are same-sex couples, there are nonbinary folks. There are young and old. Families, and at least one person who has attended the church at that location since before this denomination existed. As they put it, if you think you belong with them, then they think so, too.

They are not just welcoming, they are active. They are social justice warriors (and clerics). They preach and practice the values I was taught as Christian. They’re in the neighborhoods, in the soup kitchens, and yes, in the courtrooms.

They have a new senior pastor now, and today was their first “New Member” Sunday since we started attending.

So we joined. Jalan participates. I stay respectfully quiet for the parts of the liturgy I can’t say in good faith (no pun intended). We both participate in the community of the congregation. This is the community we want #Dragonlet to grow up in.

It feels right.


Autism and Savant Syndrome: A rant

In the US, ABC is premiering a series this Fall entitled, The Good DoctorRe-making a Korean series, it stars Freddie Highmore (of Bates Motel should-be fame) as a physician with autism and savant syndrome.

I have a burning hatred of savant stories in popular culture.

I think I’ve put my finger on the problem today. There are two things.

In virtually all movies and series foregrounding a person with autism, that person also has savant syndrome. Maybe 10% of people with autism, at least in Western studies, also show savant skills. Maybe half of people with savant syndrome have autism. (Source and source). But in pop culture, it’s close to 1:1.

(That’s not quite true: Most movies about child prodigies without autism also show them having savant skills, even though that’s not really a thing. I’m looking at you, Little Man Tate.)

Now, savant skills are often very showy and easy to highlight in media. I get that. But it’s to the exclusion of stories about the lives of any other people with autism (Temple Grandin is a rare exception.)

Why am I so touchy about this? I don’t have autism, though I do have a number of associated traits. Perhaps I have well-compensated Asperger’s. I don’t know and I don’t need to. And I do not have any savant skills. But I do have a ridiculous IQ and was a child prodigy. Some of my bitterest memories from childhood are when I was asked for what amounted to performing tricks for educators, evaluators, and friends of my parents.

So yes, a deep-seated loathing of a focus on “performative intelligence” (versus ability), paired with the distorted representation of people with autism. I don’t think I’ll be watching this.

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Posted by on May 20, 2017 in Daily Life


Mother’s Day

For Mother’s Day, Jalan wanted to go to a local hands-on science museum with Dragonlet. (Oh, yeah, we’ve procreated since I last posted. About four months ago now.) Dragonlet’s day-care provider–“part-time nanny” would probably be more accurate while we’re her only client–takes him frequently and meets up with a play-group there, but Jalan had never been, and nor had I since my elder son was young.

We now, unsurprisingly, have a membership. It pays for itself in about three trips per year, and they’ve expanded their little-kid stuff since I’d last been. Oh, and tax deductible as an educational non-profit. One of the key benefits of a membership is that we won’t feel we have to stay long enough and do enough to get our “money’s worth” on any given trip–a real advantage with the CFS.

Jalan and I also talked today about kink. Some in the specific–I described a fantasy to her. I generally only do that when it’s not something that could happen in the moment. Partly because otherwise would feel like I’m saying I’m dissatisfied with that we are doing in the moment. It separates sharing a fantasy and a desire from topping from the bottom.

We otherwise talked about integrating play with having a child as he gets old enough that he’d notice something odd. Now, I often like being left bound for unpredictable amounts of time between interaction, but that’s a very specific kind of scene. But we’ll also still have the nanny time when Jalan is on break from work, as long as we can find the headspace during the mornings. And eventually a date-night baby-sitter. We also talked in general about possible hardpoints in the bedroom in the new place.

Oh, yeah, in addition to having a baby since I last posted, we’ve found a new rental house (same city). One of these things led to the need for the other.

But there will be more options when he’s no longer sleeping in our room, though of course he’ll still have urgent needs at unpredictable times. The master bedroom in the new place is down three concrete steps from the rest of the house, so there will be a baby gate. At least we won’t be walked in on by surprise in the first couple years!

Life is good.

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Posted by on May 14, 2017 in Daily Life, Dragonlet, Play


A paean to Elderly Dog

Just because I’m in the mood 🙂

Jalan and her first husband adopted Elderly Dog from the pound in Spring, 2000. She’s a pound mutt. Clearly some Chow, the rest might be Spitz or Collie or who knows what. Weighs around 35-40 lbs.

Sweetest dog. 16.5yo or so (something like our 90 for a dog her size), and still gets as excited as a puppy when we come home, when we pick up her leash, or pretty much anything else–sometimes just making eye contact.

Every month, she sleeps longer and deeper, stands up more slowly, has more trouble with the stairs, has more trouble with bladder control, and is increasingly senile (she was never overly bright). She is almost totally deaf and losing her vision and smell, but is still Just. So. Happy. Every time we interact with her it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her. Until the next time.

When Jalan and I got together in 2011, Elderly Dog immediately switched loyalty to me, which I tease Jalan about. She’s a “velcro dog.” She’s content as long as she knows where her people are and is nearby us (especially me–sometimes when Jalan is home alone, Elderly Dog will still sit and watch out the front door for me).

With her failing senses (and intelligence), she’s also the world’s worst watchdog. A year or so ago, when we were dealing with an emergency, we had a friend come in and check on her. He had a key to the back door. So he went in the back and watched her (and photographed her) standing in the hall, barking at the front door. She didn’t notice him until he came up and touched her.

She doesn’t like men in hats. When service people come over, we ask them to remove their caps, and that usually settles her barking. That’s less of an issue now that she can’t visually distinguish the hats as easily. I can only imagine there was a pre-pound history of abuse.

She’s never noticed the cats except Senior Cat (whom we lost last month), even when she could see them easily. Just totally oblivious. Runs right over them sometimes. Senior Cat came home from the pound the same day and took care of Elderly Dog while she had pound sickness. He pretty much raised her to be a cat. When she could still remember to, she would do her level best to bury her messes, though was terrible at it (might walk off and take a right turn first).

And while her general faculties are declining with age, she’s not sick. Her only medication is for bladder control, plus a joint supplement. She’s not dying of anything. At some point in the not-too-distant future, she’ll probably get to where she can’t stand up due to loss of muscle mass in her hindquarters, and that will be time to say goodbye. But we never thought she’d make 15, then never thought she made 16, and she keeps surprising us . . .

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Posted by on July 24, 2016 in Daily Life


Draconic Self-Care

Not Draconian self-care.

For the first two or three years Jalan and I were together, she wasn’t working and I worked almost exclusively from home. We were joined at the hip. Two nights apart when I was traveling for work were pretty much the limit before we were both feeling strain from it. She does work now, but that includes from home, and we treasure our time together, generally choosing to be in the same room when possible. And I almost never travel for work since getting sick, in any event.

That lays context for how odd it is that I told her I needed to head out to a coffee shop this afternoon at least in part because of how she was going about her day.

Before my friends worry, let me say up front that this does not indicate a problem between us.

For many reasons, some in my personality, some in my mental illness, some in my personal history, I have often had trouble rolling with changes in plans. I’m far less uptight about this than I was even a few years ago. Much of that is because of my fundamental trust in Jalan. And she’s worked on helping me get away from the maladaptive, compulsive element of this–by things like not telling me her plans. Especially early on, I’d find out where we were going for dinner when we got there. Asking while she was driving generally went un-answered, except when she could see that my not knowing was causing genuine anxiety or agitation. That pressure to need to know the plan rarely comes up these days, and I seldom even feel driven to ask. I trust her. It works for her needs, as well, in that not telling me the plan leaves her free to change it to suit her mood without risking distressing me.

This is the last day of her week off of work, and she started the time off with a fair bit to do for her job before returning tomorrow. She hasn’t worked on it this week–she’s taken much-needed leisure instead. But an hour or so after the second time she told me she was coming downstairs soon to work, I started feeling my old discomfort with not knowing what’s going to happen, and especially discomfort with plans being changed without notice.

So I went upstairs, sat with her on the bed, and explained that, while I trusted her to get done what she needed to in a way that worked for her, the way the day was going meant I was getting twitchy. I took care to explain that this was in no way a rebuke for how she’d spent her week, or the fact that she was changing her plans for today as she wrestled with the best way for her to get to it and get it done. Rather, I needed to go out alone for my own self-care. It wasn’t about her; it was my decision as to the best thing to do to meet my needs. After some kissing, I was on my way.

As I’ve remarked before, we communicate with such quantity and such care that most people would probably see it as exaggerated and might even find it too much to handle in a relationship.

But it suits us perfectly.

That, and I can pick up Chinese food on the way home.


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Posted by on April 3, 2016 in Daily Life


Emotional Dragon

So apparently it takes being a hot mess to get me back here. I’m feeling pretty raw, and this seemed like the right place to go.

For context, the last 6 or so weeks have been pretty great, especially emotionally. I did a medication change in January that’s worked wonders. I sleep well, I don’t have nightmares, I rarely have daytime sleepiness, or even early-evening sleepiness. My mood has been rock-solid: no mania, no depression, and no disproportionately anxious responses. Simply put, my mental health has never been better.

Tonight I had a bit of a meltdown. It started with disproportionate anger to what I would have thought in logical terms to be a fairly minor irritant involving an online friendly acquaintance. Then I started getting distressed about feeling this anger. I also remembered a couple times this morning I felt flashes of anger at people who were just doing their jobs, and the issues were, again, small (I did not take it out on them, don’t worry).

Jalan and I came up to snuggle, since I wasn’t doing well. We talked about this. For more context, anger is generally a no-go for me. It wasn’t permitted in my family of origin. It largely didn’t exist for me in the first half of my life. Didn’t exist as a conscious feeling, that is. “Anger In,” the personality psychologists call it. Combined with a hefty dose of repression and the superego from hell.

Then I started feeling fearful. Not about the anger-provoking irritants. But about possibly falling back into a CFS relapse of unpredictable duration. I had a long, really severe one in the Fall, but have feeling mostly myself since around mid-December. Sometimes I’ve been more energetic than I’ve felt since CFS first hit three years ago. Still, it didn’t seem fair that it might be coming around again. When “fair” has fuck-all to do with this.

As the next step, I just started crying.

I looked back at the week. Monday and Tuesday had a lot of stuff going on. Unusual financial stresses, veterinarian visits (not even for the pet that’s dying of cancer), out and active longer hours than my norm, and still got a shit-ton of to-do’s checked off.

After all that, Wednesday was a total loss. I was up maybe an hour before going back to bed. Thursday, I got a couple of hours’ work done in the morning, then had to stop. Headache came on, not responsive to the usual remedies (ibuprofen, water, caffeine). I ultimately took a half-tablet of Percocet to be able to sleep. Today, I spent over two hours at the urologist for mysterious problems (not cancer). Nothing today was conclusive, so set up a pelvic CT for late April. I’ve had the problem for 30 years. I can wait another 6 weeks. Surgery is a possibility, depending on what they find. But after that, I did not have anything like the energy to work.

In short, I pushed hard Monday and Tuesday, dealt with some unusual stressors, and CFS has been kicking my ass since then. Oh, and I had an episode of autonomic dysregulation this afternoon, the occurrence of which is (imperfectly) correlated with CFS flares. But extra fun.

And tonight, it just all came crashing down. Exhaustion, anger, fear, sadness. Too much.




Posted by on March 11, 2016 in Health



Earlier today, I was driving in the lane next to a police car and was reflecting.

I’m a middle-aged, cis, white guy in a tan sedan with a handicapped placard. I could hardly be less likely to be a victim of disproportionate police aggression.

“Hardly less likely” is not zero, and all lives do matter. This is not in doubt or debate.

But the #BlackLivesMatter hashtag and awareness campaign is no less critical for that. There is also no reasonable doubt that people of color, especially trans women of color and Black men, are vastly more likely than middle-aged cis white guys to be victimized by police brutality in the US, up to and including murder.

Middle-aged cis white guys don’t need an awareness campaign. Not because police brutality never happens to us. But because that’s not the way to bet.

That is why the subject line says “Black,” not “all.”

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Posted by on April 8, 2015 in General / Overhead


February 7, 2015: In my chastity belt

I am once again locked in my chastity belt.

This is especially noteworthy to me because the last time Jalan put it on me, at the beginning of January, I’d had it set too tight, over-correcting for weight loss. I made it about 5 days before breaking into the emergency key and finding (non-serious) sores under it. That was emotionally traumatic to some degree as well as physically painful.

That had been the first time the belt had seen use since I got sick two years ago, when I wore it for a continuous 3 weeks-plus in January and February, 2013. That had been by far the longest term I’d had it on, as I had just figured out how to adjust the fitting to accommodate hygiene and my high-and-tight balls. Then my health went south and life kept happening hard and fast.

So having it comfortable and on again is a big deal. Comfortable or, at least, not the bad kind of uncomfortable. You know what I mean.


Flunked my sleep study

I flunked my sleep study :(. Apparently some degree of sleep apnea, which surprised me–and Jalan, who sleeps next to me. That meant I couldn’t do the daytime test, but apnea is more easily treated than narcolepsy.

Last time I had a CPAP, I couldn’t tolerate it, but there are probably improvements since then. They’re a PITA, but if it helps daytime sleepiness, then worth it. Maybe we can get a mask that can be modified with locking straps…

I don’t know the degree of apnea until I see the relevant neurologist.

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Posted by on January 27, 2015 in Health

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