My wife is amused (and then again not) with my obsession with blogging and more so reading other's blogs. She knew years ago that blogging was a natural fit for me because I like to read and I LOVE to talk and would greatly enjoy a large audience, if not in person. (3 is my limit in person).
She tried and tried to get me to write. She tried to involve me in her blogging. I just wouldn't rise to the bait. I tend to be the sort of perfectionist that does nothing perfectly so I develop inertia and do nothing. I'll start things, but grow frustrated when they clearly aren't going to measure up to my high standards.
So enter the other woman. No, not that kind. The one that apparently has been living inside me for nearly 4 decades if not in fact from before birth. Turns out that a bunch of seemingly unrelated incidents with women's clothing may have had its roots in her looking for some method of expression. No I am not schizophrenic, nor do I suffer from any form really of dissociative disorder. I started by acknowledging to myself and to my wife that for years I had a strange urge to partially dress in women's clothing. I didn't understand it at all then, and not so much more so now. I have only discovered what it doesn't mean. I am not gay, not even repressibly so. I don't have gender diaspora (discomfort sometimes even revulsion at one's own birth gender) . I don't have any interest in BEING a woman. But I did need a place to gather the wool of my thoughts. So my femme alter ego got her/(our?) first blog. I had (still do) a lot of fun and learned about myself as I wrote about my experiences of going from an occasionally guilty wearer of pantyhose and lingerie to completely and tastefully dressed en femme.
In subtle but definable ways 'she' is different than 'he'. My personality comes through but the best I can determine is that she is actually an immature early version of me. That fork in the road that (Frost?) wrote about where she had wanted to take the road less traveled. 'He' had pressures, obligations, expectations placed upon him, and made every effort to remain true to himself despite the buffetings, but in fact portions of 'his' self were eroded away. The innocence, the openness, the willingness to put himself out there emotionally were blunted. She, hidden from view, was unaffected. With a brand new persona, I felt free to express myself. For some reason, although she seems to have all of my knowledge of grammar and spelling and syntax, she was able to flout the rules, get thoughts on paper and clean up the mess later. So she took to blogging and probably at this point has a book's worth written. As a youth I aspired to be an author, but no story was good enough to do what all writers must, begin to write. She didn't care, she blathered on, a regular 'Chatty Cathy'. Along the way wrote things that were for me to read, profound. It ceased to matter at all what others in my unseen audience read, it was about what I wrote.
All that writing led to noticing who was reading me, where they came from why they chose to read. I found other blogs, some I searched for, some I stumbled upon. Googles heuristics are getting better on blogs, but at first I kept running into commercial crap. Several really good blogs feature ads and sponsors , so thats not what I mean. For example, I love Always Aroused Girl. Her writing is genuine, her ads are relevant, in fact she works online as an adviser for Eden's Fantasies (an adult toy purveyor). The hard thing for a search engine is to tell the difference. What I found works best if to find a writer I like and then look for who they like to read and so on. My wife calls this blurfing for surfing blogs. I do it for hours everyday.
I originally started this post as the first in a series of posts that was going to be who I blurf and why I blurf them. I think instead, I will post a little something about what I read in my blurfing either one blog or sometimes a series, and how (if at all) that influenced what we ended up doing in bed (or not) that day.
When my wife had come through the room an hour or so ago, before I started this post, I asked her if she had any idea what direction or sex life might take in the next several hours so I could begin a blog draft. She, only slightly amused made it clear that she is not planning our fucking around the blog or it's readers. Fair enough I said. I explained that I had enjoyed writing about what I thought might happen, but it was equally interesting when it didn't turn out as expected like the time we had a spanking planned and we had a cranky toddler session instead.
Reassured, she thought about it and said in a serious tone, "Well, I definitely am going to blow you tonight." I asked her if there was any particular reason I should be anticipating this particular delight. She explained that with all the discussion we have had abut it vis-a-vis memory lane and the mention in the comments on Fellatrix's blog, that she just wanted to. She says it is a nice way for her to remind me how lucky I am. I might have to retaliate with some energetic cunnilingus.