Bus Ride (journal)

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Time passed, unnoticed, outside the blurry confines of my mind. Rhythmic rattling of the window against my head lulled me in and out of sleep as the mammoth conveyance traversed the endless asphalt surfaces of the New Jersey highway system.

A frustrated sigh and rattle of flapping lips counterpointed the sudden scratching of pen against paper, as the writer scratched out the previous two lines in her journal. Then, after a few moments of reflection, re-wrote them.

Was it only five hours ago that I stormed out of the office? Three since I got on this thrice-bedamned bus? I check my watch, but I realize I didn't even pay attention when each of these events happened. The hypnotic hum of the road beneath the Greyhound's tires was more than I could bear for a while, and I know I dozed off. Of course, dozing on public transportation has not been a habit of mine, but then, the day's events have been more strenuous than a lot of things in the past few years.

In high school, I usually wore black. So when the new fashion line called "Gothic-ah" came on the market shortly after graduation, I decided to parlay some of my savings into purchasing one of the designs. I chose a rather chic black top, almost a cross between a t-shirt and a teddy, with matching gloves.

So after my original investment in something a little less concrete than real estate - as fickle an economic partner it is - I received a thin, wide box from FedEx. Adorned with small black icons of fashionable articles of clothing, and the silver-engraved name of "Gothic-ah," at first I was tempted to introduce Mr. Package to Ms. Circular File.

I tore open the package, surprised I'd received anything - but then, when one spends more than eight thousand dollars on basically nothing - one tends to expect results. Inside I discovered a bound book of patterns, as well as what was termed the "original prototype" of the article. A long letter in legalese was stuffed into an envelope on the side. Apparently, buying the design gave me full rights to do with it what I wished - including eventually selling it back to Gothic-ah.

Years later I just happened to be taking stock of my portfolio, and left a lot of the paperwork laying about in my room. The letter from Gothic-ah Corporate, a folder of securities reports, a bunch more things I can't even remember because of the following events.

I hadn't expected my mother to take umbrage with my foray into the realm of financial independence... "Isn't my portfolio good enough for both of us," she screeched, as she found one of the letters on my computer desk.

She of all people should recognize the wisdom of diversification... The potential of a fresh point of view, one more learned with the newer bits of technology and news far outweighed the steady plod of long term bonds or indiscriminate mutual funds.

Of course, my calmness only infuriated her more... I still haven't been able to figure out why she was so charged up - eventually she slapped me, calling me an ungrateful bitch of a daughter with no respect for her mother or the sacrifices she's made.

She stormed out.

I turned, began piling my paperwork into a box. Pulled out a duffel bag, stuffed it with clothes and basic toiletries. Boxed up my laptop, found my stuffed raccoon, my address book and cell phone got tossed into my purse.

I strapped the boxes to the back of my bike with a bungee, slipped the duffel strap behind my neck and under my arms, and swung onto the seat.

I tried to recall if anyone I might still be friendly with still lived in town, but realized that most had moved on, and I was one of the few to stay behind.

I found myself at the FedEx depot after riding aimlessly for an hour. The clock outside the door read 7:55... And the hours posted indicated they closed at eight. I unstrapped my stuff, took it inside, and with the aid of my address book, created labels for the packages to ship to my lawyer. I scribbled a quick note - "I'll send for these. Rachyl." - and shipped them off.

Rode a little bit more and found myself at the bus station... None to New York, Philly, or Washington... Baltimore was expensive... Boston insane... Nachton not so much.

It was then, my ass parked on the bench at the terminal, with just about all my worldly possessions arrayed around me, that I saw the billboard...

"Fashion Show, Presenting Gothic-ah, Angel*Noir, and others! May 30th, Nachton."

I strode to the ticket counter and bought my ticket.

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The scribbling in the journal continues...

Of course, I realize now, three hours into the journey, that I should have picked up one of those free apartment rental guides before I left the terminal... They had a large display with tourism, residency, and employment pamphlets and books.

Well, when I bought the ticket, I was still not completely emotionally settled - and in fact am probably still not - but the excitement of actually moving out on my own is more at the forefront than how worried Mom might be, or how fruitless this journey could end up. I've not acted so... impulsively... in longer than I can remember... Probably before I graduated high school; that time I got knocked cold at the Ephraim estate. I still have a weird little bump on my head from that...

So, I'll probably stop at a convenience store when I get there. I imagine Nachton is outside Wawa's sphere of influence... I'll miss their hoagies. And the raspberry tea. And the cappucino. I'll probably find a 7-eleven or two... maybe a few "independents..." I could get lucky and move into a building with a Starbucks within a block...

Of course, I could also be equally as lucky and find and fall in love with a rich, sensitive, caring, hetero man on a rest stop on his own trip...

Sudden laughter rings out in the bus, waking a few people around Rachyl and prompting groans and complaints.

Now that I've woken and irritated some of my travelmates by laughing at the extreme improbability of my prior statement - most likely engendered by a lack of sleep, extreme stress, and not having eaten in a while - not to mention the fact that any man worth eloping from a bus station with probably would not _be_ in a bus station - I'm going to grab a granola bar from my purse, and try to nap.

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I sit quietly on a curb waiting for the luggage compartments to be emptied. The sun has just risen; I can hear the city behind me start to wake up.

Outside of my band trip to California, and that aborted camping trip to New Hope, I think - no, I'm pretty sure - this'll be my first sunrise somewhere outside of New Jersey.

And the beginning of the rest of my life... Who'd have thought it would start in such a way?

But maybe a clean break like this is best. Mom does have my cell number, and my email address... But somehow I doubt she'll be calling or even writing.

I'm making myself a list of things I need to do...
-Find a decent but cheap apartment
-Grab a couple newspapers and some employment brochures


I just realized that granola bar at 3 did nothing to fill my stomach.
#1-Breakfast.

Oh, the driver just pulled my duffel out... My own dumb fault for getting on the bus first, I guess.

Here's to life in Nachton...




~end~

Rachyl's Journal (private, closed, no replies)

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(( This is the IC journal of Rachyl. If any of this OOC-ly learned information should appear or be mentioned IC, heads will be bonked or :stabbed . None of this information is available IC unless pre-arranged by Rachyl.

That said, enjoy. :mrgreen: ))


(( Thanks to Meegan for assistance with the disclaimer. :) ))

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The entirety of the journal is written in flowing but neat penmanship.

Saturday, May 28th, 2005


I got off the bus with little to-do, and collected my bag. Rented one of those storage bins, stowed my duffle, and hopped on my bike.

Rode to a generically boring convenience store, grabbed one of those apartment guides, a hotdog with cheese, and a Fruitopia (Wow, Wawa hasn't carried these for almost a year. Such a treat.) Asked the closest, intelligible person for directions (who happened to be a FedEx driver also at the store) and biked my way over.

The first and second complexes were full. The third had burned down after the book was printed. The fourth looked decent - the apartments were clean, but most were one bed-one bath, but for the size of the apartments, as well as the proximity to the industrial sector, the price was too high.

I ended up at a similar building a couple blocks over. It was a bit more run down, and seemed to be poorly maintained, but the price was right. Efficiency, one bath, no kitchen, AC, electricity included in rent, for four hundred a month. I could swing that, as I checked my checkbook. Luckily the security deposit was only one month's rent. According to the "leasing agent", the apartment I was to be given had a new toilet and tub, as well as a couch that had been left behind by the prior renter. (It is ugly and smells like cat piss though.)

I rode back to the bus station, picked up my duffle, and returned... home. I can't really think of it as home, though, as there's nothing here that's mine, per se, and it just doesn't... feel right. But the bed is comfortable, and I slept well the first night, using my duffle for a pillow.

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Sunday, May 29th, 2005

At least I'm getting a good workout carrying the bike up and down the stairs.

I rode to Walmart (I seriously hate shopping there, but there were no Targets within a decent distance, according to the landlady). Ordered a decent-sized mini-fridge for only ninety bucks, some bedlinens, a TV/DVD/VCR combo, a couple movies (Oooh! Miss Congeniality 2 has been released on DVD! I don't think any one other item made its way into the cart faster), some cleaning products, a couple candles, and tampons. I set up the TV and fridge for delivery and carried the rest in my duffle. Stopped at an office supply store (Scissors Depot. Knock off much?) and picked up a calendar, some legal pads, a portfolio case, pens, and a cheap calculator.

Rode home - somewhat unstable - and started to make the place a little more homey. Realized the place had only the one shelf, so I ran down to the corner market and "borrowed" a few of their milk crates. As I opened the door, the bathroom door fell off, splitting in half... So I built myself a makeshift coffee table. Set up some of the other crates at the end of the bed and in the bathroom.

I realized it was getting late - almost two pm - so went back to the corner store for some juice, soup, and a sandwich. The grody old man behind the counter kept making eyes at me... If I were the violent type, I'd almost want to stab him with a spork.

On the way back home I saw a tiny, broken down old wooden desk in an alley... So I picked it up and carried it back. Probably used to be a really nice desk... Light maple, decent construction... Just missing a leg. Set it against the wall opposite the window, but realized I'll need to pick up some bricks or something to stand it up straight.

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Monday, May 30th, 2005.

I spent more of the day getting ready for the fashion show than I'd planned. Luckily, the dry cleaners across the street was actually open on Memorial Day (strange how naturalizing immigrants don't celebrate our holidays.) and had the dress taken care of.

I'd bought myself the low cut, crushed velvet black dress for wedding receptions... Had a few friends - well, by the end of college, more acquaintences - get married right out of college. I'd saved a black silk choker with a dangling silver teardrop pendant from my jewelry box.

I took a nice bath - unfortunately not bubble, but I did light the Lemon Meringue scented candle I'd gotten - and did my hair. Threw on a t-shirt and shorts to run back across the street to get the dress, then came back and finished getting ready.

Long story short, the Fashion Show was amazing.

Short story long, I got there, waited in line, got a few funny looks, and was about to enter when an official dragged me aside, and told me that, not only was the Show by invitation only, but that the Hall was full.

So, almost moping, I gave him my contact info for the next show (fully not expecting a call) and roamed down the alley next to the Hall to get a cab home.
I heard a girl throwing up, so I helped her, then an extremely gay man yelled at me for doing so, and told me to get my ass back inside for the next phase of the show... So I did.

I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was part of my brain saying, "You got screwed out of going in the front, might as well go in the back."
Of course, I hadn't expected what would happen next - I was directed to a changing room, had my makeup redone, my hair messed with (though it did look awesome afterwards) and was stuffed into a beautiful blue corset and skirt. I was kind of wobbly on the really high platform shoes I was given, but I think I walked pretty well. Ended up running to what I guess was two of the male models making in a janitor's closet, but finally found my way to the runway. I realized I was very unstable, and tried to keep my balance by not bending my ankles at all.

Then someone tripped me. Reached his hand out... and tripped me, right before the end of the runway. I flipped my head up, saw a camera, winked, and blew a kiss, then stood up. I might have been "vamping" as my old friend Lily used to call it - that is, showing off skin and being very omnidirectionally flirtatious.

I kicked off those horrid shoes and nearly ran into a very beautiful woman - strawberry blonde hair, amazingly, impeccably dressed - who seemed to be named Meegan, as her attention was grabbed after congratulating me on my recovery.

I got changed back into my dress, and nearly ran out, but not before hearing a conversation between Meegan and a photographer, regarding my "fall."

I almost floated home - if it were possible, I would have, because the cabride was -expensive-. Price gouger.

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Tuesday, May 31st, 2005

I slept like a log. No dreams that I could remember. I spent a good portion of the morning figuring out my finances. Realized I'd shipped all of my investment information to my lawyer (stupid, stupid) but still had enough in my checking account for three month's rent, and living expenses... As long as I didn't take too many cab rides.

Found some bricks at a nearby construction site, and took more milk crates for more shelves and storage. Set some up in the bathroom for hygeine and such, and put clean clothes at the end of the bed. Set up the desk with the bricks, but it still didn't fit.

I found myself outside in the alleys adjacent to my block, scouring piles of trash and dumpsters for useful bits and bobs... Of course, all I found was an old supermarket shopping basket, so I grabbed that and went back. The desk stood quite sturdily, but I decided to not put too much weight on it.

Was on my way out for lunch when I ran into the delivery guy with my fridge and TV. Put the TV on the "table" and the fridge at the opposite end. I could feel the guy staring at my ass as I put things where I wanted them - just so - and was actually disgusted briefly... I hate being leered at by men. How is it a woman's face can't form that expression?

I gave him a twenty (ouch), figured he'd gotten enough of a look of my body and basically kicked him out. Watched Miss Congeniality 2 twice before falling asleep.

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Wednesday, June First, 2005

I biked up and down almost the entirety of The Strip (as I'd found out the main drag through the city was called), writing down office, firm, and building names. In the afternoon, I stopped at the library and looked most of them up. Ten cents a page, printed. Good grief. What with all the donations they must receive from either patrons, businesses, or the city, I can't imagine why they'd need to charge so much. Paper was less than a penny a sheet, and the cost of toner even less... Profiteering sucks, but then, how can I complain? I used to be in real estate. A single additional sink and toilet could raise the price of a house ten grand, depending on location and neighborhood.

Stopped back at Walmart for some cases of Ramen noodles. They may make me fart, but at least it fills the void.

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Thursday, June 2th, 2005.

Yes, I know I wrote June Two-th. It's just funny!

Not a whole lot to report. Stopped at a FedEx Kinko's to fax my resume to a few different realty offices (seriously, three bucks a page to fax? How does the machine work, little elves inside who type out the binary transmission then run it through the phone line?)

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Friday, June 3rd, 2005.

I shouldn't be so sarcastic, even to my journal. It gets me in trouble.

Found a cheaper place to fax - that same Scissors Depot I'd stopped at a couple days ago. A dollar for the first page, and twenty cents for each additional, for local faxes. Much more reasonable.

The next few weeks of entries are probably going to be either light or non-existent, because after all, the day-to-day goings on here are pretty boring... After all, I don't have any money to splurge with, and picking up cheap DVDs at Walmart is enough entertainment. Maybe I should get a book or two...

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Tuesday, June 7th, 2005

The weekend was quiet... I did some exploring. I started from the apartment and worked in ever-expanding blocks... Ended up going about nine blocks in each direction before I got too tired to continue... Seriously need to get back into shape. Still haven't recovered from my appendectomy...

I didn't find any Starbucks (then again, I don't exactly reside in an upscale preppy neighborhood now, do I?) but I did find a comics shop, an Internet Cafe, another FedEx Kinko's, and a regional post office. I wrote down street names and blocknumbers, then headed home for lunch.

As I was eating, I got a phone call from Kawarsky Realty, and spoke with a very nice lady named Cora. She had a rather exotic sounding accent that I couldn't place. She arranged an interview with me at an Italian restaurant closer to the center of the city. I'd be meeting a man named Ed Mischener, at 1:30 on Wednesday the 8th.

I think I danced in my apartment for a whole fifteen minutes after that call, lunch forgotten.

I made sure to run my green business suit over to the dry cleaners and gathered my copies of resume, my portfolio, and other needed stuff.

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Wednesday, June 8th, 2005

I took the bus into Center City and found the restaurant. I wasn't nervous. I was a bit early; I got there at 1:10, so I put my name in and told the host that I was waiting for an Ed Mischener, and that we had a reservation for 1:30. He sat me at the table at 1:25, when Ed arrived. I stood, shook hands with him - he was a nice enough looking gentleman with greying hair, a soft mustache, encroaching jowels, but a firm grip and a strong if quiet voice.

We had an amiable meal during which he asked me about my schooling and internship. I think he was curious to find out why I'd leave a national-chain realtors' office and move away, especially with as "varied" a sales record as I had, but he held those questions.

He excused himself to use the mens room... And never came back. I even asked a passing server if he'd seen a man come out of the bathroom - thinking he might have had a heart attack or something - but he said, "No ma'am, I'm sorry, the gentleman has left the restaurant."

I was shell-shocked.

I still can't think much about it without shaking in anger.

I paid the bill, then called the woman at Kawarsky Realty back.

"Cora," I said, "I interviewed with Ed a little while ago. Rather, we had a quiet, questioning lunch, then he went to the rest room and never came back. I was told by our server that he left the restaurant and stuck me with the bill. I'm understandably aggravated about the fact that, not only was the restaurant his choice, as interviewer, but that he left me with the responsibility of covering it. He should have been professional enough to tell me I was not the one he chose for the job. He should have also told me that he was leaving. I find it reprehensible and discourteous, and will not be dealing with your company." I gave her my address in the off chance I'd be reimbursed for the meal... I think she was almost as shocked as I was that the man would just vanish.

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Friday, June 10th, 2005.

I received a rather professional looking letter - by FedEx courier, no less - on Kawarsky letterhead, stating Mr. Kawarsky was extremely apologetic about the lack of professionalism his representative displayed, and wouldn't I like a second opportunity. I checked the envelope three times for a check, but no luck.

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Tuesday, June 14th, 2005. Flag Day.

I realized I don't have any flags, so I went back to (gag me with a spoon) Walmart to get a couple on long dowels, and got a matching t-shirt. Three bucks... Can't beat it. I was climbing back onto my bike when my phone rang.

A man named Carl from a Rox and Foche office in the city scheduled an interview. I asked if it would be at the office; he said no, it would be at a restaurant. Do I like Italian? Yes, but not such-and-such restaurant in Center City. 3pm on the 15th? Sure. You can imagine my reluctance to go on another lunch interview...

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Wednesday, June 15th, 2005.

But I went anyway. Dressed in my silk, steel blue suit, I sat in the bar of the restaurant for almost an hour - from 3pm to 4pm - waiting for this Carl. I must have pestered the host every five seconds... "Is he here? Did he call? Is my name down?" So when the manager of the restaurant wandered by, I asked if it was customary for people to schedule lunch interviews in Nachton, and then stand up the interviewees. He said no, it wasn't...

Which of course didn't make me feel any better.

I ordered a burger and fries to take home for dinner.

Stopped at the bodega at the corner and got a sixpack of Coors Light. Ugh, I hate that stuff, it tastes like liquid sawdust. But I figured, no sense in allowing myself to suffer all day long.

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Thursday, June 16th, 2005.

I called the Rox and Foche office. Asked for the name of Carl's supervisor. "Ma'am," I was told, "Carl is the owner of the office." Apparently I'd need to speak with someone in a franchising office in Richmond in order to get someone above him. "Well," I said, "He scheduled an interview with me for yesterday, then never showed up."

The lady apologized profusely and kept asking me if there was anything she could do... My brain thought, and nearly pushed to my mouth, "Well if you can give me a job that wouldn't be working with that inconsiderate clod," but I just told her "no thank you" and let her go.

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Friday, June 17th, 2005.

I decided to take a ride along the Strip again, and rode two blocks to either side. I found a small park near the far end - close to where The Strip broken into the Industrial quarter - and watched as a bunch of folks walked their dogs.

My phone rang just after lunch. I am starting to dread unsolicited phone calls.

Ronda from Umbricht Architects... Interview at noon on Monday at Cafe Americana... Scheduled with Olaf. Asked her if, outside of going and waiting for him, there was any way to verify he'd actually be there... She asked why, I told her that my last two interviews had ended rather rudely. She said oh no no no no! and tried to reassure me, saying Olaf would be the epitome of professionalism.

Right.

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Saturday, June 18th, 2005.

Spent some time at the internet cafe, checking email and posting my resume on Monster. I should have done this when I found them, but hadn't thought of it... Then again, I don't have regular internet access...

If I wasn't so worried about finances, I'd come here on a more regular basis... The clientele seems clean, and there seems to be some good looking folk in this town.

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Monday, June 20th, 2005.

I dressed in the green business suit again. Glad I had the foresight to bring two... Okay, maybe it wasn't so much foresight as just grabbing a random handful of clothes from my closet.

I even called Ronda at 9am to verify my appointment at noon, at Cafe Americana on 13th Ave... She verified, said yes yes yes, he'll be there...

So you can imagine my surprise when noon came and went, with no Olaf.

I called at one. "Hi, Ronda. Olaf's not here." "He's not?" "No." "Let me try his cell, hold please."

Holding sucks. I can't put into easily expellable, harsh words how much it sucks when it's the third interview you've been stood up on. So when Ronda came back on the line, I nearly exploded, but simply said after she told me Olaf wasn't reachable, "I'm extremely disappointed that there was not better communication. Have a nice day."

I'm beginning to wonder if I'm cursed.

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Monday, June 27th.

The past week has been rather empty. Empty of hope, decent food, movies, enjoyment... I've found myself a few trashy romances at the GoodWill store a few blocks over, so have been sequestered in my apartment reading those. At least I know my "girl parts" still work, even if the job-seeking part doesn't seem to be.

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Wednesday, June 29th.

To date, I've sent out forty three faxes to just about every architectural firm, realtors office, and land broker in the city (or at least what I could find on the Nachton CoC site, as well as the Nachton BBB listings), and even a couple temp agencies.

So you can imagine my surprise when I got a call from Kelly at Acme Temps who said she'd at least put my name into the secretarial pool, because she didn't have any real estate internships - or really anything that matched even some of my qualifications outside of secretarial duties - open.

I told her I was very grateful and that the last three interviews I'd been on had fallen through for one reason or another (and I wasn't going to give her details unless I met her face to face).

So she said, "That's great, how about Friday... I have an opening at 4pm, and there's a great little Indian Restaurant on the Strip..." I got the information from her and tried to steel myself against another bad afternoon.

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Friday, July One-th, 2005.

Wow, it's almost the fourth of July. Hard to believe I left home a full month ago... almost five weeks now.
I stopped at the bodega for a small loaf of bread and some lunchmeat and had a small sandwich before I showered and got ready.

I hopped the bus to the restaurant... Rather a couple blocks away, and walked over, purse and portfolio in hand...

For some reason (which will probably be hinted at shortly) the entire day is burned into my memory...

I gave my name to the host. Apparently, there wasn't a reservation.

I said to her, "So are you trying to tell me, by not saying anything, that no, there's no one waiting here for me, there's no reservation with my name attached, and that you're wasting my time by simply not saying 'No ma'am, there's no listing with your name?'" when a rather attractive redhead bumped into me... Introduced herself... I found out that no, I actually didn't have a reservation and that I'd been premeditatedly stood up... and ended up joining the redhead - Veronica - and her companion - Meegan Masters of Gothic-ah Fashions - for lunch. I explained to Veronica that I'd been stood up and otherwise jilted, as far as interviews are concerned and made a crack about working street corners... She made me blush saying I'd fit right into some of the strip clubs she's been to.

The meal - prawn curry with coconut - was absolutely wonderful, though completely outweighed by the magnificence of the company. (Their ice tea was pretty good, too, though I think I drew a few disgusted stares when I dumped about four tablespoons of sugar into it.)

Meegan at one point when Veronica went to powder her nose rattled off a good portion of my history... Name, age, etc, and scared me... Then she grabbed my wrist... I know she was trying to be nice but it really freaked me out for a moment. Then she offered me a job!

Veronica made a comment about me being hot, still in my steel blue suit, out on the patio... I was, but I didn't mind too much - three different sources of heat, each more wonderful than the last... I wiped my brow but let a few drips alone, that travelled down my chest (as did certain green and brown eyes...) Veronica kept leaning back and forth showing off her breasts, and even made a comment after the waiter brushed her chest (rather obviously) about the two of us wanting to touch her tits... Of course, I wasn't totally innocent, either, and unbuttoned a few buttons as I dropped my napkin.

Meegan invited Veronica and I back to her place for wine and chocolate... Although, from the looks we'd been giving each other throughout the meal, I think wine and chocolate was furthest from our minds... Meegan has a cute little mutt named Dill.

We took a cab. Meegan on the left, Veronica in the middle, me on the right. I could feel Veronica's entire body heating up, the further along the ride got, and the more 'friendly' Meegan's hand became.

Into the building we went, though Meegan was accosted by her downstairs neighbor, one Mrs. Carmichael. I made a comment about Dill looking hungrily at my portfolio - even though he was acting quite the gentleman - and we got upstairs in short order.

Meegan popped a bottle of wine in the kitchen for us, and we toasted, but then after I made a crack about someone giving change for five cent tours, and two cent opinions, and pennies for thoughts... Veronica snarfed wine all over her shirt. Which she then attempted to wipe off with a cold, wet towel... Rather ineffectually, actually.

So, I decided to help her... I raised her chin and licked a drip from her chest. She pulled off her shirt, cupped her breasts and said, "You missed a spot."... Meegan came up to us... Veronica helped me with my jacket and we found ourselves in Meegan's bedroom...

Meegan smelled wonderful - I do so love vanilla - and after kissing and partially undressing her, I turned to Veronica. After I undressed her, she pushed me on the bed when Meegan went to get her camcorder. Veronica showed me her clit-ring, and (sarcastic me) asked her if it hurt, then offered to kiss it and make it better... which I did. Meegan came back, I think she set up the camcorder (actually I'll find out where when Veronica gives me a copy) and she joined us on the bed.

I found out first-hand (first-face, -lick, -cum?) that Veronica "squirts" when she orgasms... That was rather interesting... I think I might have enjoyed it. I ended up giving her two orgasms while she straddled my face, then gave one to Meegan while Veronica played camerawoman for us. Meegan gave one to me (geez I sound like I'm keeping score here, but honestly, remembering this is so intense I'm lost in the memories of it... Putting it on paper seems to give it less meaning than the absolutely wonderful evening it was).

We moved to the bathtub afterwards, and were playing in the water when Meegan left to get a vibrator... Her phone rang. She sounded mad... then left. I could tell she was extremely frustrated, and immensely disappointed.

Veronica and I cleaned up, then just before we left I got an idea... Suggested we stay to eat and watch a movie, then make our own movie for Meegan, help her with a little release for what she missed. So I made salmon stir-fry, and we watched Mallrats... And together she and I ran the batteries down on the camcorder a second time.

We left Meegan a note, the DVD we made, the leftovers, and a vibrator with fresh batteries. "Thanks for the amazing night. We hope next time can be a bit less interrupted. We left salmon stir-fry in the fridge for you and cleaned everything else up. We made the DVD for you. You might need the vibrator."

I gave Veronica a couple kisses and hugs as we parted in front of Meegan's building, then took the bus home, in strange but completely comfortable clothes.

I need to take a second bath... but I wanted to get this on paper, and I want to put their cell numbers in my own cell before I forget... But now remembering this I need to go treat myself to some (more) release.

---

Saturday, July 2th, 2005

I continuously remind myself how much of a dork I am. July tooth. I sit here giggling - which of course you can't see - but I think I needed to giggle, same as I needed what happened last night.

It had been over a year since my last sexual encounter... Since I was nearly... almost... Since I was assaulted and nearly raped outside the coffee shop in Millville. There. I said it. I was nearly raped. I think my therapist might consider me muchly recovered... Well until I tell her that I nearly freaked out on poor Meegan when she grabbed my wrist and rattled off my vitals. Someday I'll tell her about that. Maybe.

That might take a bit more pushing, more meditation, and a lot more awareness of how people touch me.

... And again my mind wanders - or maybe another part of me - to last night. I vaguely remember telling Veronica of my first female lover, and how she could orgasm only once... And she joked with Meegan about getting her clit pierced while she got her own nipples pierced - as Meegan's are... And then said I should too. But I'm allergic to silver and gold... Have been since I was young... She said they use surgical stainless steel. I'm almost tempted, after hearing, seeing, feeling, tasting their reactions to using the piercings as points of pleasure. Maybe I'll have my belly button done first, to see how I react. After all, it's been... just about twenty two years. (Or so Mom said.)

I realized today after my morning meditation and bike ride that I've never seen any of my building co-residents. Either there're more empty apartments than the other three on my floor, or they're just night owls.

And my mind wanders back to Friday. I could have continued with those two all night long... And we started at 5pm... It just felt so good. So good to have a warm body next to me, so good to feel another person's flesh, to feel loved for me, and not as... a warm place to stick a hard-on or two.

I suppose that's one thing I'll never understand about my whole ordeal. That is, understand the difference between men like that, and men like my second boyfriend, Leo Christoph (strange combo, I know, but his dad was Italian and his mom Hungarian or something. I don't remember, it's been some six and a half years), who nearly fawn over you as a person and yet still find you so attractive the mere touch of clasped hands walking the mall induces instant arousal. He and I never did have sex... I bet he'd have made a wonderful partner though.

Come to think of it, if I still lived in NJ, I might call him up just for booty's sake... But then I realize, if I still did (live in NJ) last night would never have happened and I wouldn't feel as... reassured in myself as I do. Though... I don't know if I'm ready to take a male lover yet. Small steps.

I wonder if I can ever thank Meegan and Veronica for that seemingly very simple gift.

So anyway, this morning I got up early to go to the parade... I had fun, even if it was kind of boring, and no one I knew (As if that's a real measure of anything, I only just met two whole people in this city of some four million) stopped by to bother me.

I came back into the "house" and slept basically naked for a while, with my icepack stuck between my bra and my chest. Sure it was cold, but it felt good... The A/C died last night. I put a note on the landlady's door after I woke up. My chest was frozen. I need to drop off my suits at the dry cleaners again, and prepare for both the party on Monday Night, and my first day of work Tuesday.

What party, you ask? I found an invitation to a Party at some City Garden tacked to my door when I came back from the parade.

---

Sunday, July 3rd, 2005

It's been so long since I've actively written anything outside of my journal, but this struck me this morning as my mind yet again drifted to Friday, and what I'd told Veronica. I'll put it on a seperate page, because it's long, and because it deserves to stand alone.

---

The First Time

From my desk, I could hear it all
How bad she was being yelled at on the call
I wished I could approach down the hall
But in my worry I'd probably trip and fall

The call was over, her face was flushed
As away from her desk, the chair she pushed
Into the bathroom I watched her rush
around the corner, bent over, saw her tush

She came out clean and smelling fresh
Into her hair her fingers she enmeshed
As she stretched I felt gooseflesh
Under my blouse, skirt, and stocking mesh

She sputtered, sighed and wiped a tear
Brushed her black hair behind an ear
She beckoned me to her near,
Said "thank you for staying dear."

I realized then how often I'd gazed strong
At this woman, day in, out, and long
Inside my body there started a song
When she hugged me with thanks, I felt I belong

Shortly thereafter, frustration removed
Into the kitchen she started to move.
I followed her - "I hope your bad day improves"
She smiled back, witholding reprove

She looked at me then, gave me a wink
While washing dishes in the sink
Her bottom she gave a little twitch
And deep down inside I felt an itch.

Side by side we washed and dried
As work and the business day died
When we were finished, I complied
With her request to go outside.

She said to me, "He had me so pissed"
I told her that emotion I couldn't have missed
"Thank you for listening to me complain about this"
I said, "What're friends for?" and gave her cheek a kiss

She looked at me then, fire in her eyes
I recognized the lust, it came as a surprise
As she placed her hand on my parting thighs,
"Would you be with a woman if the chance would arise?"

My blouse she reached down to unfurl
I felt myself turned on by this girl,
Around my ear her tongue began to swirl,
"How would you like to give it a whirl?"

---

Sunday, July 3rd, 2005, second page.

So, I wrote that, and I feel pretty good. I feel... charged. Not only erotically, but mentally, creatively.

I called Veronica about noon and got her voicemail, left a message saying "hi" and that I'd call her later in the week... Left a message for Meegan, too, saying that I'd see her on Tuesday for work.

Spent a portion of the afternoon in the library (at least the 'Net access is free, but there's no delicious snacks), picked up a couple books. I decided it's cheaper to get books and movies from the library than it is to rent from Blockbuster or even to buy from a store like Goodwill.

After a month at Gothic-ah I'll revisit my financial situation. I don't think I can continue living in this apartment... It's comfortable enough, but there's no kitchen, and the window has begun to leak.
Maybe Veronica is interested in a roommate. I know Meegan's not... She's a private person with the name of a public figure. I think she's also an only child, but then, it's been so long since I've read her personal stats. I know what that's like... Mom gave me quite a bit of liberty in a lot of cases, especially in regards to my living space, and almost never invaded it unless she had a reason.

It could be a very interesting, broadening experience to share living space with someone... Especially with someone whom I feel so... compatible with. (In either woman's case.)

Well, dropping off laundry on my bed to be folded wouldn't quite count as an intrusion, but she did that every three days.

I don't think I'll soon understand why she felt the need to wash every three days as opposed to every week, since it was only the two of us, and we had enough clothes, in a lot of cases, for two weeks straight. Including underwear. Even when I was in field hockey, band, Aikido... There were always plenty of uniforms.

I should write her a letter this week... Her birthday is coming up, after all.

I should do my laundry before the party tomorrow, too.

---

Monday, July 4th, 2005. Happy Independence Day!

I got up just before dawn and rode my bike to the nearest bridge. Rode out on it, on the bike path, and watched the sun come up. It was quite... lovely. It has been a while since I'd taken a few moments to appreciate something so simple as the sunrise, and I enjoyed it. I watched as its curve peeked above the horizon, then closed my eyes and let its expanding rays cover my face. Cool breeze passing, the soft scent of the nearby ocean tickled my nose as I heard the city start to wake up. After the sun was completely above the horizon, I rode home, and stopped at the drugstore to pick up a card for Mom.

I stuck a note on it, "Write and mail at least 4 days before Aug. 7th" and placed it near the TV. Emptied the trash, cleaned the bathroom and my bed-corner... Now, realize, this isn't the first time I'd cleaned... Just the first time I'd mentioned it. I feel like I'm getting into a routine with my life here so far... Though starting my job tomorrow will likely change that a bit.

I ate lunch... standard Ramen... though I should start eating something with a bit more substance, like PB&J. I showered, dressed, and took the bus to Vesper Gardens at the listed time.

Meegan was there. It was quite a surprise. We watched the fireworks together and chatted a little, but didn't really make mention of sex, work, or the past... Mostly stuff about people who were there also, or tidbits of Nachton.

We left early - Meegan said something about an early shift - and I knew I'd want to be rested for the morning.

---

Tuesday, July 5th, 2005. My first day of work at Gothic-Ah!

I wore my green suit (since I wore the blue one on Friday to the "interview.")

As I entered the building and followed the directions given me by the receptionist, I saw the picture of me, in blue corsetted glory, hanging on an exhibition wall.

I found Meegan's office with no problem - it is all glass, after all - and knocked.

She bid me enter, then asked me what I was wearing... and proceeded to tell me never to wear it to work again. "Our dress code in the office is casual," she said as she stood - dressed in an amazing ocean blue bodice and matching skirt that faded to black at the bottom - and came over to embrace me. She whispered that she enjoyed the movie - I never did realize she didn't mention it at the party - and needed new batteries. I heated instantly, saying that Veronica and I needed to catch her up soon.

Then I said, "I would like you to know, Meegan, that I plan to be ninety eight point six percent professional when working with you, and a hundred and fifty percent dedicated to my work." She looked pleased - literally and figuratively.

She showed me my office - right next to hers - and explained that I could dress casual in the office but had to wear Gothic-Ah fashions when at client meetings. Fine by me. Then she took me on a quick tour of the office facilities (but not manufacturing) and dropped me off at HR to fill out paperwork with a rather nice woman named Martha. (Who commented on my green-ness, and I said I was a couple months behind on my holidays.)

As I perused the paperwork for employment, I was rather shocked at the benefits provided by the company - apparently I hadn't researched them as well as I'd thought when I originally purchased the design - and stared stupidly at the salary offer for several minutes before signing my name on the bottom line.

When I returned to Meegan's office, she gave me a corporate credit card and some petty cash to take care of my first two duties - buying Veronica a new shirt, and getting myself some more "appropriate" clothing - Appropriate, that is, for dressing in Gothic-ah dress code. I made a crack about the third duty being making out with her under her desk, but I joked saying that it was "point seven percent of my unprofessionalism for the day."

I set up my office quickly, making it comfortable, then I followed her directions to a store room on the second floor. I don't think I've ever seen so much fashion in one room in my life... Even at the fashion show. I picked out five sets... A green bodice and skirt that closely matched both the color of my business suit, as well as the style of Meegan's. A sleeveless, burgundy lace-up camisole with a sheer, thigh-length black skirt. A blue and black bodice with a brocade front, and wave-patterned black skirt. A black, tight leather corset, as well as a bustle jacket to go over it, and tight leather leggings. I realized I'd need to continue working out and lose a bit more weight before putting on the leather one when I saw it - the Egypt blue corset and spider print skirt. I knew Meegan wouldn't recognize me in it, and probably no one in the office would connect the exhibition picture with me. So I quickly changed into the green bodice set, dropped my choices in my office, and went to the Mall.

I looked for entirely too long but finally found a suitable top at The Gap, waited while the lady called Meegan to verify my use of the credit card, then took a taxi back to the office.

I joined Meegan and Jacob for lunch at the gym across the street. Jacob has long brown hair worn tied back at the nape of his neck, striking amber colored eyes, tall athletic build, and what was some mixture, multicultural caramel skin. Meegan had my name added to the company's memberlist, and I picked an exercise suit. Navy blue sports bra with a white tank that I decided not to wear, and matching spandex shorts. I changed and ran for a little while on the treadmill before we ate. Meegan made an amazing mixed greens salad, and Jacob concocted for me what he called the "Walker Smoothie." I arched a brow at him as he explained its contents... Banana for body, strawberries for tang, coconut and pineapple for flavor. It was quite good, and quite strange to have a drink named after me within a few hours of my starting. He commented he'd been thinking about what to put in it since we'd been introduced. I found myself briefly wondering if he was unattached... But again something inside me said, "No men. Not yet."
I showered before we returned to the office.

When we got back, Meegan gave me the piles of what she called PDOs (I guess that is HR shorthand for Paid Day Off) and OTRs (Overtime Requests) and told me to make sure each one was filled out correctly - department, shift, name - and signed.

Several hundred forms I went through... Really not too bad, but I needed to stand up every now and again to stretch and focus on something further away than my desk. It wasn't til later that I realized I kept looking at Meegan... Anyway, after I finished, I trucked them down to Martha and handed them over. She commented when she saw me, "Oh, hon, you look amazing in our fashions. You looked good in the suit, but now you look better. Like you belong." She nodded approvingly.

After that, Meegan met me at the elevator and we took a tour of the fashion floor. Such a wonderous area. Dozens upon dozens of mannequins and bodystands along the walls with partly finished articles. Racks and racks of completed items. Rows and rows of large, loud sewing machines.

Meegan commented that one of the orders being worked on was the one that she was bothered at home for on Friday. We walked around for a little while longer; she showed me the motley piles of silk bolts (a lot of black and red, but many others too), the seamstresses, the stressing machines. Neat little things... Kind of like a shoehorn, I was told, where it fits a prototype article of clothing perfectly, then twists, bulges, contorts, and otherwise tries to destroy the item - within the norms of human wear, supposedly - to make sure it's ready to be manufactured.

We entered another section of the warehouse completely dedicated to packing and shipping. Large trucks - not tractor trailers, but just big trucks kind of like UPS or FedEx trucks - were backed up to loading bays, with long conveyor tracks of boxes leading in different directions.

I asked Meegan if she wanted me to come in early like the rest of the workforce was, for the order, but she said "No necessary, Rachyl. I don't get in til 9 myself," and laughed. I think she was impressed by the offer though. I also offered to work a day or two in each of the different areas, to get a general idea of how the company worked, but she said she'd get back to me on that. She looked astonished that I'd suggest it, in fact.

By the time we got back upstairs, it was nearly 5pm, so she told me to just head on home. I gathered my stuff and was on my way out when Meegan joined me and offered to pay for my cab ride. "Can I take you home?" she asked.

I was thankful as I climbed in. When I gave the driver my address, Meegan looked briefly thoughtful, I think, but then it was gone, and before I could ask her anything, she gave me a quick rundown of the rest of the week.

By then though, my brain was ready to explode, so I told her we'd recap that in the morning, and got out of the cab. I shook my bottom for her as I walked to the door, and waved as she drove off.

I hung the outfits as best I could on the doorjamb of the bathroom. I tried on the black leather outfit - the one I knew I'd have the most trouble with - and it felt like I was very close to being able to wear it successfully. Maybe for my first client meeting... if I get another two weeks or so to work out at the gym. I should go there after work some days, or weekends.

---

Wednesday, July 6th, 2005

I wore the black-and-blue bodice and skirt.

Meegan gave me a crash course in the fashion industry and more about what we do, and gave me a few names and websites of competitors to research.
Lunch consisted of another salad, another smoothie (I've decided to go through the list of what Jacob can make, just for something different), and a decision to buy a swim suit to be able to swim at lunch or after work, at the gym's pool.

The afternoon was just as busy... More information, this time about fashion shows and expositions. I decided (yet again) to not tell Meegan I'd been in hers on Memorial Day.

I stepped off the bus when I got home, and realized I didn't want to be there.
So I rang Veronica, but got her voicemail. Then I called Meegan.

When she answered, I said, "Hey you, what're you up to? I'm not quite ready to go home yet, you wanna do a mid-week girls' night out?"

She paused a moment. In the background I heard music... She said, "I'm home, listening to music and drowning myself in some really expensive wine. Maybe some other night, huh?"

I got the vague impression she wasn't being fully truthful, but I wasn't going to call her out on it. I smiled as I tried to sound chipper, and said, "Sure thing. Don't forget, we're going out with Veronica on Friday night, so try not to use up all your self-partying energy before then! See you tomorrow."

I stuffed my cell back into my purse, then looked down at myself, still ensconced in black-and-blue. "All dressed up and nowhere to go," I thought, sighed flung open the door to the building. I changed into a t-shirt and shorts, and tossed on my sneakers, then hopped a bus to the mall.

I went from Neiman's to Penney's and found myself at Lord & Taylor, where I found a pretty decent selection of "club outfits," I guess I could call them. Sexy, provocative, and yet still provided decent coverage... Somewhat unlike what I've been wearing to work. Kind of funny, actually.

I chose a shimmery blue jacket, a silver shimmery top that was a bit small, but showed off my breasts nicely, and a pair of black slacks. (I haven't worn slacks in so long...) Also picked up a couple different colored thongs - black, blue, white and red - but passed on the bras. Grabbed a new, fluffy pillow and a copy of "Hitch" on DVD.

I stopped at a stationery store and picked up two small journals similar to my own - one a myriad of reds, the other a deep lavendar - for Meegan and Veronica. I popped into Hallmark for gift bags and bows and blank cards - with little pictures of a dog that looked oddly like Dill on them - then to a dollar store for some tissue paper before I headed home.

I realized that in about forty-eight hours I'd be going out on the town with two beautiful women - my friends! - and was just in a very good mood.

I wrapped the journals, wrote in the cards, and set them aside.

I was too excited to relieve myself of the day's minimal tension, so I just showered, dried, grabbed a beer, and plopped on the couch. I ended up watching Hitch, then Miss Congeniality 2 again, and headed off to bed.

Eva Mendes is -hot-. Kevin James is cute, too.

---

Thursday, July 7th, 2005

I picked the red lace-up camisole today, with matching skirt. Chose the red thong, too... Definately a new experience for me. Very... liberating, and yet, I still felt covered.

Got into work a bit earlier than normal - I keep thinking normal, and yet, today is only day three - and Meegan still had not arrived. I was standing in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to finish filling when I saw her step out of a cab. I washed her mug and quickly made it up for her, then moved to meet her at the elevator.

The doors parted, and she was slumped against the wall, looking clean and clear, and yet amazingly exhausted and - from her bloodshot eyes - a bit hungover. I handed her the coffee, and she sipped as we walked to my office. She handed me Dill's leash to walk him, then some money to run down to a juice bar for a Hangover Special (which I could only wonder what was in it) and something for myself.

I made a comment asking if she needed feminine products... She said she went for "a little ride." Offhandedly I joked about her ditching me for hot sex, and I could tell she was about to tell me I needed the same thing, but I motioned her to stop.

I walked Dill out, let him piddle on the curb, then continued to the dog park. It was relaxing, actually, to watch the dogs frolic there. Eventually, he came back to me, and we moved across the street to the juice bar. A few of the people looked at me funny, and I guessed not from my wardrobe choice for the day, but at my companion - the shiny-coated little brown mutt. When I reached the front of the line, I asked for Dante (whom Meegan had directed me to) and introduced myself, then ordered the Special and asked for something "peppy" for Thursday morning. He stepped away to mix, then came back with two cups and a paper bag marked "HO-Special."

We walked back, me with one arm of Dill-leash, and the other with a drink carrier and brown paper bag, and Dill with not a care in the world - well, outside of whatever things dogs usually care about. Chasing cats or fire trucks, peeing on fire hydrants, a nice filet mignon, I don't know. But he looked happy. Got back to the office and all of Meegan's was dark... Dill pushed his nose against the door trying to get in, so I knocked quietly.

When Meegan answered, she looked even more hung over - I guess the coffee hadn't helped - and handed her her smoothie and the bag. She asked me to join her, and I set my own cup on a coaster on her desk. She popped the lid off, and chugged it down, then shuddered revoltedly. She told me the ingredients... Tomato juice, worcestershire sauce, tabasco, vitamin powder, protein powder, blended together with milk and a little bit of ice.

Gross.

I stood and moved behind her, but there wasn't any room for me to give her a massage, so I asked her over to the couch. She sat on it with me... but faced me.

She looked at me, her eyes dark. How I was growing to love those eyes, and enjoy that look even more. "I need something else." Meegan said, and sighed softly. "I need you to touch me."

Of course, my sarcastic jokey self overrode my immediate romanticism, so I touched her nose with a beep, then she kissed my fingertip. I pushed up her dress and touched her the way she wanted as she told me about her night. How big he was, how he filled her and then some. I asked her to tell me all of it... I haven't been with a man in four years and wanted a little vicarious thrill. If only I knew...
She said he worshipped her body.

I know I thought something then, but I can't quite remember what it was... Probably that "men are good at it," or "women can do it too," and maybe even "I feel lucky you're telling me this."

Then she says she's spoiled for other men, that she'll either have to marry her new neighbor, or swear off men for ever. I commented that she had to get to know him better, that she should spend more time with him, whether it be sex or not, and that she knows at least two women who'd help her forget about him for a little while.

She said that's exactly what she wanted... and she climaxed against me.

Then she wanted to thank me properly. Of course, somewhere, my brain decided to dredge up, "A simple thank you, bright smile, and warm hug would be sufficient, but far be it for me to dissuade you from any ideas that might be percolating in your lovely head." I felt her warmth move closer to me, and said, "or lower..."

And she did. One for one. (I think she liked my thong.)

We napped on the couch there; I know I was out for about forty five minutes. After I woke (combination of sun and the noises of designing), I folded up the blanket she'd covered me with, made sure there were no remnants on the couch. When I stood to go, she asked me not to leave. I joined her at her drafting table, caressed her hair with my mostly-clean hand, and she told me about moving the design to the pattern. When we broke for lunch, we stood next to each other at the sink in the ladies' room, giggling at each other as we freshened up. She pinched my bottom as we exited, then we went to the gym.

We shared the sauna in relative silence - not even an uncomfortable one, in fact, it was quite the opposite - and after salads (and yet another new smoothie from Jacob) Meegan went back to her drawing table. Back to the drawing board. I sit here giggling, thinking about it, because it's so cliche, and yet, so very apt.

I checked her emails, answered fan mail, routed voicemails, passed important stuff onto Meegan. Luckily, none were urgent; in fact, I didn't really want to bother her... I know what it's like to feel creative and be bothered.

We walked out of the office together. She put me in a cab (again), but before she did, I gave her a soft kiss, and she squeezed my hand, then hugged me. The gratitude in her eyes was more than sufficient for words, and I was very glad I could help.

Found myself at home... I packed up the journals, made sure I put the right one in each respective bag, and attached the bows. Put it on my door-table, and hung the outfit on a hook in the wall.

I think I'm going to take a bath, then go to bed... Maybe I'll relieve myself first, then... I don't know.

I have noticed, though, that my daily journals are becoming longer... I might need a new one sooner than I thought, but we'll see.

---

Friday, July 8th, 2005

Got up entirely too early, and yet, I felt great and awake and everything. I called Veronica, left her a message to call me at lunch.
Dressed up in the Egypt blue corset and skirt. Kind of decided I want to let the curls return, but we'll see. They can get difficult to manage.
Stopped at the Net cafe to check my email and the weather... I was kind of disappointed because the forecast was calling for high chances of rain due to the hurricane down south.

Oh well.

Realized I'm still not used to dressing the way I do every day, or even the attention that seems directed at me. I do enjoy it though. And I like how I look... and revel in how sexy I feel most of the time. Odd.

Headed to work. The day was slow... Probably because of my anticipation of the night's forthcoming events. I just couldn't wait to go out with my friends... But I didn't let it overly drag me down. Ironic, being bummed out because I'm overly anxious to be enjoying myself.

It's a good thing I do enjoy my job.

Lunch was quick... Veronica called me as I was on my way back to the office. Meegan told me to tell her that the limo would be picking us up, and I got her address. The afternoon was even slower than the morning. Meegan had me walk Dill again, once right after lunch and once before we closed up the office, just to make sure he wouldn't cause problems while we were "out" that night.

I got home at the normal time and freshened up, then dressed in the new blue and silver shimmery outfit I'd bought a couple days previous, a black thong, and the black slacks. Spritzed myself with my tiny bottle of "Blue," fluffed my hair and dabbed some of the perfume in all the fun places.

Veronica called me and told me they'd be here soon... Her voice sounded thready... I can't believe they started without me! But she certainly sounded like she was having fun.

And when I got into the limo, Meegan had Veronica's face trapped between her thighs, while Veronica's ass bounced in the air, fingers deep inside herself.

I set down the bags with the journal-gifts and joined them.

After Veronica and Meegan climaxed, we reclined on the seats. I gave them their gifts. Veronica was extremely excited, and she gave me a kiss thank you. Meegan was thankful, but she seemed distant. I imagine she'd never used one before and wouldn't know what to put in it. Maybe I'll give her some examples.

We decided on Japanese - rather, Meegan had made reservations and we assented - a restaurant called Oishii Sake. At the table, Meegan danced around her "meeting her new neighbor" and Veronica was extremely impressed with the "name dropping" that Meegan unintentionally engaged in... Apparently Veronica was a fan of the neighbor, too. And not just his music, but his... prowess.

I started to feel playful, so I ran my foot up Meegan's calf when a woman who'd just been seated across the aisle from us walked up for an autograph.
Meegan completely shocked her (but not me, I almost laughed at her response) when she said, "Oh, that's terribly brave of you to come over here and ask, but I don't give out autographs to the general public. You are more than welcome to come to a show or exibition and get one there. Thank you so much for the compliment. I do hope you enjoy your meal, the sushi here is first class."
So after the woman acted shocked and hurt, she and her companions moved to a different table.
I knew that Meegan had candy-coated her response, so I asked her exactly what she'd thought. She replied, "Something about her being a stupid ass, and sticking a chopstick in my eye if she cried. And I said fuck alot." I told her I liked her sugar-coated PR bull.

We finished our meals and stood and stretched all at the same time, eliciting giggles from all of us. Back in the limo we played "if you were stranded on a desert island." We behaved, for the most part, and Veronica kept looking at her journal, turning it over and over in her hands. We got to the "toy store" called "Dream Studios." Veronica went right to the strap-ons and picked a humungous, nine inch model. Then she and Meegan looked at the bondage stuff while I perused the ballchain. I found a little remote control vibrating egg - with a wink to the counter girl as a sort of promise to tell her I was going to behave - I pressed it against the small of Veronica's back. She nearly jumped out of her skin! For a brief moment she looked like she was going to ask me something, but she turned back to Meegan. Meegan selected a large domed black chest - I guess to hold the new toys - and I went back to the ballchain. Veronica teased me as I looked, and I pushed her away playfully.
Apparently I'd been dawdling while looking at the dildos and Meegan was starting to get antsy, so after she paid she came over to look with me. I indicated I was interested in one of the glass "units", but wasn't sure if I wanted clear or blue. I was leaning towards blue when Meegan agreed.
I requested several different lengths and diameters of ballchain, and a seven-inch blue glass item. On my way to the register I grabbed one of the remote controlled vibe boxes - it ended up being the one with the special pair of panties, and not the little egg. Spent a little more than I'd wanted - almost two hundred dollars - but it is and will be worth it.

We finally got out of the store, and tried to show off what we'd chosen but the ride to Club Eternity was entirely too short.

Someone named Mr. Swiftwood bought us drinks - unfortunately we didn't get to meet him. We danced close, hot and hard... I think we must have had just about every eye staring at us, every protruding body part pointed at us, as we moved together on the dance floor.

Finally our excitement became too much; we went back to Meegan's and played around in the shower, the bed, the tub, the sofa...

---

Saturday, July 9th, 2005

I'm not sure what time we actually "went to bed." It had to have been after three... I'm still a little sore as I write this, but it's the soreness of one who got pretty well laid. Amazingly. Wow.

I was the first to wake, so I made breakfast while Meegan and Veronica played minimally and showered. I think when Meegan caught me cooking naked, she was even more surprised than Veronica had been... Veronica and I dressed in street clothes, and Meegan carried her duffle full of ki and dojo clothes, when Veronica got a phone call. She looked like she was about to cry, and quickly explained that her mom had had a stroke, and she needed to return home.

We parted tearfully, exchanged wishes of wellness and playfully forceful threats of bodily harm should one or another of us not keep in touch. Meegan offered to pay for Veronica's ticket... I missed what they ended up deciding.

Meegan and I continued onto the tournament, alone... The tournament was amazing; I felt a tiny pang of regret that I'd never been able to enter one of the tournaments for my own martial pursuits, but realized that, with my new workout routines, I very well could eventually rejoin. I might even be able to talk Meegan into sparring.

Afterwards, we went to back to Meegan's for dinner to celebrate her victory and new rank, find a place for the trophy to sit, and to get her into the tub to help her muscles to relax. We got a phone call in the midst of dinner; Veronica was saying she'd made it safely and would definately keep in touch. Tears could be heard on both sides, but we did our best to contain them by telling Veronica that Meegan had won, and that she only had a few bruises.

---

Sunday, July 10th, 2005

Sunday I let Meegan rest, and went home to gather my dry cleaning and get everything ready - clothes, paperwork, stuff like that - for the upcoming week.

---

Sunday, July 17th, 2005

The week went by pretty uneventfully. I'm really losing weight, now that I'm active at lunch and after work, and eating more sensibly than I have in some time. I've lost almost a full cupsize in my bras, and I need to go shopping to replace some of them. Maybe I'll go tomorrow. Or maybe I'll start eating a pack of butterscotch Krimpets at lunch... I can just imagine the look on Meegan's face!

---

Monday, July 18th, 2005

Work was slow, if busy. The orders are still coming in; we're still working on that one order that originally interrupted our first night together, almost two months ago now.

After work I went to the mall. As I was walking through window-drooling, I saw a girl standing in one of the display cases, holding something in her hand... With blood dripping down her arm. I ran in, looking for something to stem the bleeding in my purse, but only found a napkin. I pressed it to her palm and put the offending pendant in a box... Found out her name is Nyra... Another woman named Serena came up and took charge (I guess I didn't act fast enough to begin first aid) then a rather well-dressed man named Aron Swiftwood appeared, too.

So instead of taking the girl - woman - whatever, I had the feeling she is a bit older than me - to the first aid station in the mall, or even the emergency clinic nearby, we go to Aron's house. No, we went to his mansion, where his personal physician patched up Nyra. On the ride there, Serena indicated to me (and I agreed) that it was all very weird and that she'd be ready to fight... as would I.

Ended up having an amazing meal prepared for us by Jeeves, Mr. Swiftwood's butler/manservant, and an equally wonderful fresh fruit dessert. We parted ways, agreeing as we drove home that it was a most... unique night... and we shared contact info.

---

Tuesday, July 19th, 2005

At lunch the next day I told Meegan about my night; the shopping, the girls, the art that Nyra had made us, Serena's strange behavior, Mr. Swiftwood's oddities. Even Meegan seemed a bit surprised at the rich gentleman's eccentricities, but was mostly quiet. I couldn't help but wonder if she was going to give him a call, when she asked me for his information - ostensibly to thank him for supplying us with drinks that night at Club Eternity.

---

Friday, July 22nd, 2005

The rest of the week went slowly, but it was nice talking to Meegan about everything and nothing. Friday though, she seemed somewhat distant, but I guessed it was just the whole "busy week" thing - twice she'd locked herself in the office, designing. Sometimes she looked like she'd run a hundred miles, or like she'd been in another martial tournament, the condition I found her in when I took her more coffee or a sandwich.

I asked her out for dinner, but she politely declined, saying she had other plans for Friday night and Saturday, but would call me Sunday.

---

Saturday, July 23rd, 2005

I ran my finances. I'm doing quite well in the savings arena, though I should start putting more of my paycheck back into my investments... well after I find a better place and have everything shipped back to me.

In the meantime, speaking of having things shipped, I've become almost a regular at Qwerty, showing up before breakfast or after work, randomly on weekends or late at night. I think the one guy, Sam, likes me, he gives me discounts or doesn't catch me at the end of my two-hour allotments like the older weekends lady, Esther, does. Veronica started her own Internet Journal through Livejournal, though she assures me she's using the one I gave her on a regular basis. I'm glad.

I started my own, with a disclaimer: "This is the beginning of the beginning. Well, not really. I mean, I have the journal that I really keep, sitting in my apartment, but there's no way I'm going to start transcribing what I write there onto the Web. It's entirely too personal."

I can't imagine what someone would think if they got a hold of the real thing...

Stopped at the mall for just a little shopping, figured if we - Meegan and I, that is - did actually go out on Sunday, I'd want something new to wear.

---

Monday, July 25th, 2005

Sunday was... unique. Meegan called me early - woke me up actually - and invited me out to breakfast. We met at the Americana restaurant on The Strip called Cherries; they had a French-style buffet.

As we were waiting to order, Meegan told me that the day before she had gone to Virginia to celebrate the anniversary of her parents' death. I knew that saying "I'm sorry" wouldn't quite be right, so when I asked her to tell me about them, she gently declined saying they weren't nice people. I could tell she was touched by my asking, though.

So when we were eating, we talked about family, and I mentioned my father's leaving, but Meegan didn't question me. So I questioned her... and her response was something like, "I know about your father."

I almost freaked. I started remembering the wrist-grabbing at the Indian restaurant, and further into my memories the flashes of...

I told her that she didn't betray my trust by knowing more about me than I'd have initially cared, but didn't mind now that I thought about it and wanted her to be honest about it in the future.

We ended up getting the food to go, so we could talk in privacy, and the waitress - Shelly, we found out her name was - left us her phone number on a slip of paper under the check. I programmed it into my phone as we took a taxi to Vesper.

We chatted for a while, eatting, then found our way to the Art Museum. Quite a nice place, with a large selection of paintings even within the first two wings - which was all we saw. Found Nyra in the wing and we chatted briefly. As Meegan and I were on our way out, I saw... the worst painting I've ever seen.

It was a rather large oil painting of what looked like a view from the driver's seat of a car; signs were visible, if blurry, and there was a vague feeling of motion from the somewhat blurred seperating stripes. In the impossibly large rear view mirror, grossly distorted, were two figures, standing on a curb, the shorter figure with a hand raised, almost as if they were waving at the driver... The speedometer was pegged at ninety. It was signed "J.Walker."

I found myself on my knees, trying not to vomit on the floor.

Meegan carried me outside, where we sat on a low wall, and I bawled into her chest... The first time I'd ever cried about the whole ordeal of my father leaving.

We stopped at my place so she could change and so I could freshen up, then went to the Mall. First thing Meegan did was find a suitable replacement top (I didn't mind, it was the only one I had clean) then we stopped in a "Love Texas" style store. I got a hat. Meegan told me about her purchases in Richmond; she got a bunch of varied vases (vahzez) and we brainstormed ideas to fill them and make them more pretty.

I confronted her in the dressing room of that first store and told her I really want her to be forthcoming about her eerily intimate knowledge of me... and I resolved to tell her why later that night.

I taught her the meaning of "prosti-tots" and "fuck-me boots" and she made a comment about Jersey terms being derogatory. I told her the boots were just fun! Also found out Dill was at the vet for boy-dog problems.

We went to so many stores, I must have bought a full two weeks' worth of clothes. We stopped in Fredericks; I really wanted to find something sessy that our company didn't offer, but couldn't decide, and besides, I want to lose a bit more weight. Down to 120! Yay! I'm thinking though that I'll just become more toned from here on out, but I digress.

She bought me so much stuff... It'll be hard to pay her back, and even harder to properly thank her. Though I know she probably doesn't want to be paid back.

We went to dinner at the Piazza, then moved up to the room for massages... But since we'd have been waiting a while I decided to tell her. I lay on the couch with my head in her lap as I told her... everything.

She gave me a full-body hug for a few minutes as I cried, fists full of tissues, body wracked with sobs. Then she cancelled our massages, setup the clothes delivery for seven am, and stood and walked me to the bed.

---

Monday, July 25th, later entry.

Of course, I find myself dripping tears as I think about what I told her, but it's not as horrendous as it was... It feels like what Meegan gave me last night, what I gave of myself, helped lessen the pain, just a little.

I woke up first, just before seven, wrapped in her arms. I turned carefully, and watched her breathe peacefully til she woke up a few moments before roomservice and the laundry delivery knocked on the door. We showered and dressed, then ate quickly, and shared a cab to work. We entered, arm-in-arm, and she looked at me the whole elevator ride. Her eyes kept saying to me, "I'm proud of you. I'm in awe of you. I care..." I squeezed her hand. I knew that if I tried to thank her, I'd probably start bawling. As she went to her work and I to mine, I reminded her I wanted to pick up Dill from the vet with her. She looked at me as if to say, "All that we went through in the last twelve hours, that's all you can say?" but it was so fleeting, I know she instantly remembered the toast I'd give at dinner the night before, and that I need to move on from that dark, dark corner of my life, and get my foot on the path of the one before me.

After work, Meegan got the call from the vet, and I joined her to pick up Dill. She looked so relieved that he was okay.

---

Tuesday, July 26th, 2005

I told Meegan that I wanted to do some laps at the gym after work, and offered to have her join me, but she said she had other plans...

---

Wednesday, July 27th, 2005

Meegan came in a bit later than usual, and I greeted her again with coffee. She thanked me then disappeared into her office... Dill pulled his bed out again, and I realized she was in a creative mood... But there was something else. She was almost glowing the way she had when she came in that day after meeting Drev... At lunch, she seemed distant and quiet, and she didn't even exercise that much. She had me pick her up what she termed the "Flu special" from that smoothie bar out near her place, but she didn't look sick... Well maybe a little pale. I suggested she give her doctor a call, and she brushed off my concern saying "I'm fine." Even Dill looked worried, pacing before her closed door, the office darkened by the curtains.

It was near closing time when Meegan finally opened the curtains and had me come back in. She apologized, said the entirety of the weekend plus having a gentleman caller at dinner last night had finally drained away her energy. Then she went on to quickly ramble that our outing on Sunday and the events attached were not cause at all, and I knew she was telling the truth... She gave me a hug, and as we seperated, wiped makeup from my cheek with her wet thumb. "Extra makeup? You're not getting a skin rash or something, are you?" I asked her. She shrugged and said it was nothing. Of course, I know better, but I also knew that I wasn't going to get anything out of her just then. "Well, I'm here if you need an ear, you know that."

---

Friday, July 29th, 2005

The rest of the week was pretty normal. Meegan and I chatted while at lunch, and when she needed a break from designing. We're down to a week left for that big order, and from what the floor manager says, tallies are looking good and we might even finish a couple days early.

The sex has kind of tapered off, but that's more of a good thing, because it's easier to get to know someone when you're talking face to face, as opposed to having said face buried between each others' legs.

Which I wouldn't complain about, mind you. I still haven't opened my "toy." It sits on the crates at the end of my bed. Good thing the only person in my place has been Meegan; I wouldn't even care to dive across the room to hide it.

I think after next week's pay period I should be stable enough to find a new place. In my "bored time" research at work - or even when I go in to the Qwerty Cafe early - have found some lovely lofts available over near the bay. The busride would be a bit longer, but I'd have my own place. They're hinted at being more of a fixer-upper though, which I don't mind, but my pocketbook might.

---

Saturday, July 30th, 2005

Waking up in Meegan's bed is quite an experience. Having her curled next to or under me, with the sun shining through those huge windows, illuminating her face...

I don't think I'll mention the bruises I noted on her neck or breast. I'm honestly not quite sure how she'd react.
We went to lunch after another morning romp and mutual shower (I gave her another ballchain treatment, she really does like it) and she lamented that she didn't have a strapon of her own... I told her very quietly that I trusted her enough that I think - no, I said, I'm pretty sure - that I'd want her to make love to me that way.

Her eyebrows raised and she hugged me.

We did another shopping binge, but didn't buy so much clothes as windowshop for possible decorating items for my upcoming new place. She's very proud of me that I'm getting out of that... Wait, let me think of exactly what she said... "Deplorable hole. Not that I'm judging or putting you down, I know what it's like to have to live at the bare minimum of your means to survive."

I think she'd like to go with me when I go new-place hunting. I'll have to ask her tomorrow when we go to the marina.

---

Sunday, July 31st, 2005

Unfortunately our plans at the marina were cut short by hurricane-force winds, and Meegan and I couldn't go sailing. Jacob's brother owned the marina, and even he had been surprised by the sudden appearance of the strong winds and choppy bay.

We perused a couple apartment books while we snuggled. Dinner was quiet; I made a simple broiled chicken breast with assorted steamed vegetables. Fresh baked bread from the bakery down the street and white wine topped us off, and we indulged "rather sinfully" as Meegan called it in white chocolate ice cream.

---

Monday, August 1st, 2005

Work was quiet and boring and yet fun at the same time.

Meegan let me go home. Rather, I found out she was going to stay late but she told me in no uncertain terms to go home. So I did, giving her a hug and a kiss as I left with Dill. I picked up some food for him on the way home and was glad I'd gotten a waterbowl for these occasions.

Stopped at Blockbuster and picked up 40 Days and 40 Nights... quite a fun movie though I hadn't expected it to be as... male centric as it was.

.... Later entry: I was woken up just now by a phone call from Nachton PD about two murders at the factory. Told them I'd answer questions in the morning as well as provide security tapes. ... Though why they wanted to wait til morning, I don't quite understand...

---

Tuesday, August 2nd, 2005

I'm writing this actually on the 3rd while Regina talks to her supervisor.
Yesterday was... interesting. A phone call from Meegan, my usual daily duties interrupted by homicide detectives, the realization that Meegan found a man... And two murders at my company.

I dispatched an email to the company basically saying "we offer our condolences and here's what we're doing to make sure it's not going to happen again..." then had a meeting with the team leads to indicate Meegan's reduced schedule... Meegan called back to tell me she was hiring me a bodyguard and to take care of Dill. (I'm tearing up again.) And eventually the workday ended. I met Jack, my first bodyguard, and we went to the dog park to walk Dill...

Where I was almost assaulted by one of the attackers in the security video from Gothic-Ah. Somehow I kept my cool, and from the dream I had earlier in the day on Tuesday I knew something was different about him... So I didn't fight back, I just talked calmly... and he eventually let me go. Turns out he wanted my help... I let him into Meegan's place; I figure she'll get a kick out of knowing that the man who accosted her is staying at her apartment...

Had pizza for dinner; I was starved. Met Regina, Jack's relief. Nice lady. We chatted for a while, watched a movie. I went to bed.

---

Friday, December 2nd, 2005

A lot has happened in the last few months.

Soon after Meegan started staying at the Mansion, I was invited over for dinner, and many different things were revealed, including the true nature of our stalker. And... a few other people.

A single day after that, Pauly destroyed Meegan's condo. He even killed someone.

I discovered a few weeks later that Meegan's downstairs friend (the one who'd worshipped her) had come back. I wonder if he ever met up with Veronica...

Life was pretty "normal" as "normal" can be considered "normal" for living in a gimungous mansion, being chauffeured to work, and spending time with Dill and Meegan and... Mr. Swiftwood.

The invitation to Connie and Nyra's Halloween party was an amazingly welcome distraction. Even the Halloween Ball Meegan was invited to was a fun event. To the Ball I wore a mid-40s outfit that I rather liked, though I liked my outfit for Connie and Nyra's even more... Psychedelic disco diva! Whee!

Wow Connie and Nyra sure can throw a party. I love the ship-in-a-bottle I won! And Meegan got a ceramic pumpkin.

That night when I took Meegan home she was so completely drunk... I felt bad for her. She knew something was wrong somehow, but couldn't articulate it... And then in the morning after she sobered up a little she found a note from Aron saying he'd had to leave town on business. Of course this tore Meegan up, and she withdrew into herself. She needed help with almost everything... Bathing, eating, dressing... It tore ME up to see her this way. But I knew I couldn't leave her. If I did... I wouldn't be her friend. She needed me...

Anyway. That first Monday of November she called me into her office to tell me she wanted to plan a party. "A big party. A gala!" I made a joke about a childrens' charity... NBITES? Yeah. Nachton Benefits Infants, Toddlers, and Everyone Small. We both got a good laugh out of it. It was nice to see her almost her old self.

So now, today, we've got all our calls made for donations... we booked Founders' Square... Invitations have been sent out... I chose my dress... Meegan knew immediately what hers was going to be.

And so I decided to catch myself up on four months of journal in two pages...

---

Tuesday, January 31st, 2006

Somewhere in my previous entry I completely neglected to mention several huge developments.

That same day Meegan suggested the Charity Gala, she also suggested we buy a house. Which completely shocked me.

The Gala was an amazing success. We raised over seventy thousand dollars for the Childrens' Hospital. I also got to dance for quite a while with Nyra. She's an amazing dance partner. I told her she and I should go out sometime, maybe ballroom dancing or something. I really do feel bad for both her and Connie as I don't believe Connie's able to dance.

The night after the Gala, we moved out of Aron's Mansion to the Piazza. We got one of the largest suites and set up a Christmas tree. It was rather fun, having Christmas in a hotel.

It was also after the Gala that Meegan joined me in bed, weeping silently. I had to turn her down, though, and we talked all through Christmas weekend, about more than we'd talked about in the past two months of living at The Manor.

I couldn't do anything but forgive her. I knew she did what I was doing - she followed her heart to Aron, even if she couldn't understand why. I kind of did, but her fall was so sudden, so out of left field, I really was shocked, to say the least. I mean, she had had that one lover after our original "get together" with Veronica, the week I started at Gothic-Ah... but Aron really got under her skin. In more ways than one.
And while I will never ask her about the rest of that...

I forgave her.

I love her, after all. With everything that I am.

So, ramblemuch aside, we had an amazing Christmas and New Year's. She got me a great yellow winter coat, short enough to be comfortable, and somehow even correctly sized to allow my breasts to fit without straining the zipper. With matching gloves, too. I felt kind of silly; quite like a kid on her way to third grade... but I love it. It's very warm. The silver sequined spider webbed bodice with purple crushed velvet skirt from the Gala was quite a surprise. I haven't worn it yet. Maybe as a special surprise for Meegan for when we get our bed.

So the other big news - We bought a house! Just today, before lunch. It's a grand, lovely home, and I know it will certainly be our home. It feels like we belong here, even with minimal furniture and nothing on the walls. Dill had a joygasm when he landed in the yard... and he's had a ball sniffing around every room.

Oop, the delivery truck's here with the mattress, and Meegan's out of the bathroom. Closing up.

---

Wednesday, February 22th 2006

The house has been amazing. Almost half of the rooms are decorated now.

Our life is just beginning. We decided - in the midst of our lovemaking - to have a baby. I'm going to be the mother. Er, I'll be the one to carry the child. I always knew that if I were to have a relationship with Meegan, and we were to have children, that I would be. It's been a rather constant turnon. So much so that last night, while Meegan worked in the office (her studio isn't finished yet) I had to keep trying to distract myself so I wouldn't jump her at her desk or go solo til I passed out. It worked, until about dinner time...

Needless to say, dinner was late last night.

So just a little while ago we got back from the Sperm Bank. Meegan wanted to read through the pamphlets first; I gave her full reign as the Chinese food from last night gave my stomach the woofles.

We finalized our "donor's specifications" (I shock myself, I keep making it sound like computer parts or a car) and we're both excited. I had the brief feeling that it's kind of odd to be getting pregnant from a syringe instead of a penis, but then I looked from the description of the procedure to Meegan and all my doubts went away.

Well about the physical part of the impregnation, anyway.

I should call my Mom. I still need to, especially after the dream I'd had yesterday. To dream that my own mother is pregnant with her lesbian lover's baby... is just beyond strange. And then to have the dream move onto both mothers dying, leaving Meegan and I their daughter - my half-sister - was just too weird for words. I haven't told Meegan yet. I'm sure the whole single-baby thing is enough for her to process; I can't imagine how she'd deal with a second.

I should ask her. I do hope that any thoughts, any doubts, she might have, she shares with me. Communication is paramount. Communication, trust, and love.

Twenty days... Hopefully I'll be pregnant. Meanwhile, we're having some of the best sex... Come to think of it we need to set some ground rules for the next nine or ten months. And have a Girl Bash. We need to have Nyra and Connie over. Kind of a end-of-bachelorettehood party. Or a pre-baby shower. Well, we'll figure it out.

---

Wednesday, June 14th, 2006

It is strange, standing in the driveway while waiting for Meegan to pull her baby out. Er, that is, back her brand new, Breakwater Blue Lexus out of the garage, where it sits next to my own brand new, Copper Red Mica Mazda CX7. Matches my hair.

It's even stranger, sitting here in the fertility doctor's waiting room, writing in my journal while Meegan is on the phone plotting some child-based perk or another, or dealing with some new office-based tangle... But then I have kind of skipped a few months, haven't I?

Shortly after we moved in, I decided it would probably be in my best interests to overcome my fear of driving. After all, I'd spent how many years in therapy for my father's leaving us, and while I certainly had dealt with the fear of driving... I hadn't done anything about it. I still rode my bike, or the bus, or took a taxi. Or walked.

So, soon after we decided to have a baby I asked Connie to teach me how to drive. In the meantime, she and Meegan became girlfriends, and Nyra and I did as well. I took Nyra on her first Personal Shopper shopping trip. It started out rough, I'll be honest, but we got her measured and into some quite lovely outfits. We even got back to Gothic-Ah in time to give her a tour, and also she picked out a couple dresses from the "surplus room."

We celebrated Nyra's birthday with a quiet "Girls' Night In".

Meanwhile, efforts to become pregnant moved along, but even as of Meegan's birthday on June 3rd, we're still hoping.

For my birthday, all I wanted was to not have sex. I know, it was an odd request, but still, it was really all I wanted. Meegan pampered me so wonderfully... We did more hugging and cuddling and making out, though, than we usually do... It was very, very refreshing. (I think we've learned from that, because there've been times when we're watching a movie together or cooking or whatever, and we just make out like teenagers.) The hammock in the back yard is a great cuddle spot!

Meegan's birthday was very domestic and very fun, too. We indulged sinfully, ordering in all three meals. We walked Dill, exploring the neighborhood a little, played board games (damn that woman is awesome at Monopoly), napping, reading (we're slowly filling up the Library in the office). Chinese takeout, chocolate cake... Hot sex.

Meegan hasn't been sleeping well. I think it's the fact that I'm not pregnant that's bothering her... She's been occasionally irritable, but I try to console her. After all, she's not the one whose body is affected! I try to give her space when we talk about baby stuff and she gets kind of closed off and defensive. She's come up with some wonderful gothy maternitywear in her frustration, though, and I can't wait to wear a lot of it!
She worries too much. It's adorable, sometimes, but a lot of the time, I wish she'd just relax.
I think one of the things that's hurting her the most would be her need to find a new church. I'm not a fan of all the hypocritical rules that religion imposes, and I'm glad it was one thing my mother never held me to.

I had one of the seamstresses in the office make me a half dozen hairbands and some scrunchies (time warp for certain.) Each is one third blue, one third pink, and one third rainbow... Fitting, I think.

I wonder if Nachton has a Rainbow Pride parade?

I just had the most amazing idea! I need to tell Meegan when she gets off the phone.

---

Wednesday, June 14th, 2006 - Later that day

The appointment with the fertility doctor went as we expected. I'm not pregnant. He went through this whole 'supposed to make you feel better' shpiel about how my uterus is viable and capable of supporting life, but for some reason the donor sperm wasn't fertilizing my eggs.

My great idea was shattered and shared at the same time; the doctor offered my own idea as a possible solution.

Just on a lark I was going to say "hey maybe we should harvest some of Meegan's eggs, this way if there's a problem with mine..." but the doctor said something along the same lines even though he didn't make it sound like my fault.

So Meegan got started on those fertility drugs and we set up an appointment to have her eggs harvested.

---

Wednesday, July 5th, 2006

Meegan's harvesting went well; just under ten days to my next ovulation and we'll see what happens.

More and more baby stuff arrives by the week. You'd think we're planning for a dozen kids, but we're really only planning on one, and we just have enough 'stuff' and supplies to work us through the first few months. Diapers, bottles, toys, music, mobiles.

We tried sitting in again on the expectant mother class but we felt really out of place - not being pregnant ourselves - so we contented each other with strong drinks, a hot shower, and bad late night movies that we were both too drunk to watch and too sober not to laugh at.

---

Wednesday, July 12th, 2006

It made me smile when Meegan called Connie early this morning (during her seemingly regular bout of pre-dawn insomnia). I don't think she knows she woke me up, but it warms me to know that she's not the anti-social socialite she thinks she is. It also makes me glad that she has a friend other than myself. I called Connie at the same time to wish her HBD; I knew she wouldn't click over to her voicemail while on the phone with Meegan. Then after I woke up I escaped downstairs to fix a quick breakfast and sent her an e-card.

---

Friday, July 14th, 2006

Our dual appointment was today. Meegan's eggs were harvested. I got another implantation. It still hurts, and I know neither of us will be doing much comforting tonight when we get home, but we're doing it together... I can't shake the feeling we're finally in this together. I mean, I knew we were before... But now that we're having a baby from both of us... it makes it extra togetherly, you know?

I'm confusing myself, probably from the meds and the serious need to get some action which unfortunately is currently denied me.

It still gives me a bit of a skeevy wiggle when the doctor brings out the sample tube full of semen... I can't believe I used to swallow that stuff. Well, maybe I can, I did kind of enjoy it...

I need to abandon that line of thought because I'm just grossing myself out, dredging up old memories...

---

Monday, July 31st, 2006

She's been beside herself all day. Even at work. I finally convinced her to go to the movies with me.

Later...

We saw Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest. I liked it a lot. Johnny Depp is so wonderful in his role and even that other guy... I can't remember his name. Anyway. I could empathize with his decisions. Doesn't mean I liked them.

We're pregnant! Meegan paced almost the full three minutes of the toothbrush timer and finally, the colors changed.

---

Saturday, September 2nd, 2006

We got a room at the Marriott Times Square for Fashion Week. I know she's going to be very tired every night, going to various shows and meetings. But I'll be here each night for her to take care of her, to help her relax and get her ready for the next day.

Meegan keeps questioning me, asking me if I'm doing okay. Outside of a short bout of constant diarrhea - probably my body adjusting to the prenatal vijjamin - I feel pretty good.

---

Monday, September 11th, 2006

It's 4am. Four in the morning. I'm never up this early unless I can absolutely help it. I'm even awake before Meegan's second bout of insomnia. That's bad, I think, but then, how many women consider morning sickness to be a -good- thing?

---

Monday, September 11th, 2006 - Later than before

TWINS! We're having TWINS!
==//==//==//==//==//==

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(( OOC NOTE! There are some rather inflammatory comments in this next post regarding Catholicism and Rachyl's views on her experiences with it. She and I do not mean this post to be an insult or to have any derogatory effects on those that are practicing Catholics, or any others who may believe in that religion or any close sisters to it. These are her views and should be construed as such. ))

Tuesday, September 12th, 2006

I realized that at one point back in August I'd had a short-hand written post on the back side of the statement that had been prepared for me by Gothic-Ah PR and Meegan's lawyer, but in the hustle and bustle of the press conference I must have left it somewhere or tucked it into my purse which was cleaned and cleared very far in advance for the Fashion Week Trip.

It had gone something like...

~~~~

I have noticed more and more that Meegan isn't going to Church on Sunday. Or if she does, she comes back home looking a bit haggard, a bit sad. Admittedly, I'm not familiar with her having that frame of mind (except around March 24th, which happens to be Veronica's birthday) especially not when she comes home from Church.

So I did some research.

Apparently the Bible has a passage that states it is against God's Will (TM, CR, etc) for a woman to lie with a woman. And the Catholic Church enforces this by promoting excommunication, which means that, basically, Meegan would be kicked out of the Church and be unable to practice as a Catholic ever again, unless she ... hang on let me get this right... "Atones for her sins against God and the Church." Which means she'd have to leave me.

Of course, these are rules based in a religious sect (and yes, I say 'sect' because Catholicism is not all-encompassing, and they sure do seem to have some secular rites) whose mores and ethics are based in a book written by men, interpreted hundreds if not thousands of times over thousands of years through many different languages. Not to mention the fact that this is also an organization that does not seem to have any sort of discipline for their religious leaders who sexually abuse small boys.

Where were the excommunications after my incident? The so-called religious expatriation of the boys or even parents who, at their trial, prayed on crucifixes and rosemaries. Er, rosaries. I don't see any justice in that. A woman who loves and wishes to be secure and safe gets tossed out on her ass, spiritually speaking, but indecent sexual predators tote the Bible and proclaim the name they worship.

Am I bitter? Maybe a little. Meegan's religion has been a part of her for her entire life, and I personally would never have asked her to choose me over it. I am sorry, though, that her love for me is giving her pain and angst in this corner of her life that she honestly doesn't share with me very much. But I wish there were a way for me to help her get through it.

Anyway.

It is now official. Meegan is "out." Part of me wonders what her parents would say, knowing that her only daughter is living in a lesbian relationship. She termed us 'lesbian life-partners' in her PR-bullshit coated speech. Unfortunately, neither the city nor state will allow us to marry (yet) so we have to kowtow to that unwanted label.

I think it's much more... well romantic, but there's a ring of truth, too, to me calling her my wife.

Hmm, ring...

We had a brief conversation, on a whim, while driving home about the last name of the child. Did we want Masters? Or Walker, since I am the one to bear it? I personally liked 'Walker-Masters' but Meegan gave me one of her 'looks' that said, "Do you even know what you're saying?"
She then described to me how much such a surname would get made fun of, but honestly, how else are we going to let them know that both she and I are their parents? It feels more... official.

Just thinking their names in my head - the two boy and two girl names we chose - paired with 'Walker-Masters' makes me smile and gives me a homey-right feeling.

~~~~~~~~~


I think I might have fleshed out what I had wanted to write, but that's okay. And I think the idea that popped into my head there towards the end might be very doable...

---

Wednesday, September 27th, 2006

My boobs hurt. I mean really hurt. I can't even put on a bra right now, they're so tender. I feel like I went through a mammogram for a full week for as much as they hurt.

I'm almost constantly hungry. Thankfully we prepared for this eventuality and stocked up on fruits, vegetables, beef jerky without MSG, assorted nuts - I'm really digging the fresh pecans - and granola bars. Meegan didn't quite care for my offer to share my peanut butter granola bar with ketchup, and I'm sure if I read this in a year I'll want to vomit from the very idea, but I was craving ketchup and peanut butter!

It's been rather frustrating for her. A bit over a week ago, we tried to 'nap' but nothing was working for me, and even after giving her a few of her own, I just couldn't seem to climax. It felt like one of those sneezes that is all built up coming from your toes, and then stops at your throat when someone says 'Bless you' prematurely. I know she feels the need to help me feel better - although thankfully she isn't feeling the need to help me with my morning sickness, which is gone - but I really do feel great! Even if I am peeing more than usual, even if my ankles seem to have swollen a little.

This morning while she went about her Fall creation binge I did a bit of exploration, alone in bed. It's probably my imagination, but I could almost swear I see a bit of roundness on my belly that wasn't there before. Most of the sites and books I've consulted say that, being my first pregnancy, I shouldn't be showing, but nonetheless, my eyes are telling my brain there is showage.

Meegan says there's not. But that's okay.

I've been horny. It's rather frsturating for me because - bah, frustrating - because I feel this need to explode, especially with how well Meegan can make me, but it just won't come. Happen. I won't come. I mean. Bah. Shut up Rachyl.
The sun on my bare skin in the mornings feels great. I imagine I feel something like Superman does, absorbing its life-giving rays. It's about the only thing that I can withstand to caress my breasts without causing undue owies.

I'm rather proud of myself, losing as much weight as I had, and in point of fact I've lost a further five pounds since discovering our pregnancy. The doc says it's normal, since I'm growing two bodies, and eventually it'll even out and I'll gain weight as I start to show. I let my fingers explore my abdomen. It's never quite the same as when Meegan does it, not unlike one's inability to tickle oneself, but it feels good. I find myself craving her touch, but I know that she's creating and shouldn't be disturbed.
My mind flashes to a couple nights after we discovered that sex wouldn't be in my immediate future. I'd come home a bit early, doing the office work Meegan needed. I'd just wanted a hot bath and dinner, but what I found was much more interesting... As I turned the corner into our bedroom I saw Meegan, legs spread wide, twisting and writhing, one of her hands grasping and plunging at the flesh-toned toy between her legs, the other hand tugging gently at one of her nipple rings.
I felt my heart speed up, my breath quicken as Meegan brought herself to one climax, then another, but I never felt the usual dampening and heat I would have prior to being pregnant.

I turned away, comforted that she wasn't letting my lack of response be a detriment to her own release, and showered in the standastall next to the kitchen that night...

But lying on my bed, as my fingertips explored the folds between my legs, I had one of those feelings of 'hey that feels nice,' kind of like when you massage your own neck, or the gentle rocking of a porch swing seat... But not the usual heat surge, the blood rush, the dampness, shortness of breath, explosion of self and feeling...

Oh to feel normal...

---

Thursday, September 28th, 2006


-=-=- RESERVED for conclusion of Getting Out of the Office -=-=-

---

Wednesday, October 4th, 2006

Coming up on ten weeks now...

I've been experiencing heart burn. It's a rather unique sensation - not unlike vomitting, actually - but not accompanied by the typical gut-wrenching spasms. It usually happens a little while after meals... And I've taken to eating a lot of small ones. So I now keep a variety of different antacids in my drawer or purse depending on what I'm eating. Would you believe the HB is different depending on what I eat?

It's frustrating enough that I should be beating my head against my desk but the heart burn makes it hurt to bend too much. It started pretty innocuously with some strange hork-sounding hiccups. Just one, that would almost be a belch if recorded and played in reverse, but it rocked my whole body. Then the second time, two in a row. The third time, I felt it... That burning in my chest that my mother occasionally complained about when eating tomato sauce... Like liquid fire or 180 proof whiskey was rolling down my gullet.

Ow.

Tums (the rainbow pack) has been the mainstay of relief. Though I admit, the first time I used one... I used it wrong. 'Take a tums,' Meegan had said. So I did. I cracked open the bottle - we'd bought some for the eventuality - picked up the first blue one and popped into my mouth, downed it with water.

Meegan looked at me funny. 'Did you swallow it?' she said, probably noticing the weird contortions of my neck I was doing to try to get it down. I nodded while I worked my throat muscles. 'You know, I'd almost think -you- were the blonde one right now. You're not supposed to swallow them, Rach.' I think I squeaked in shocked pain as I read the directions. "Place under tongue to dissolve."

It's a good thing we were in the kitchen because I reached for the nearest frying pan to beat myself in the head with... But Meegan intercepted me and instead gently stroked my throat and chest and sternum, alleviating some of the 'ow I just swallowed a pill that's as thick as three stacked quarters' pain.

Then comments were made about my still somewhat-tender breasts and their appealing engorgement, which migrated to some leaning-against-the-kitchen-counter Roman Fingers and eventual offers of cocoa butter massages.

---

Friday, October 13th, 2006

I've never really had a problem with Friday the 13th. Never suffered - for all my neuroses - from paraskavedekatriaphobia (yes, I had to look it up. I had Triskaidekaphobia stuck in my head but knew it was wrong, as that refers to just the fear of the number 13) but today has been a real bear for me.

First I dropped the brand new full bottle of shampoo on my little toe. Now the nail is a lovely black and blue color, but the toe itself is not broken. Just very bruised.

Then I walked square into the edge of the doorway of the first floor bathroom... Somehow Dill had gotten in and pushed the door open after I made myself breakfast. I had a nice little red mark on my forehead as much as an hour later.

After eating, I went to check the mail, and somehow - don't ask me how because I really don't know - got a belt loop on my jeans stuck on the handle of the front door. Tore it right off. Well not completely, now it's hanging by the lower stitches, but it's flapping free when I walk. The first few minutes I kept feeling what the tapping was at my waist. After a while I just taped it in place.

On the plus side - I suppose - I've been extremely hungry. Ate a whole cheesesteak (of the two we had for dinner last night) and even though I felt like my belly was going to explode, I felt full and not-hungry for at least an hour. Meegan almost tackled me when I said I was going to go get snack less than ninety minutes after the meal.

---

Thursday, October 19th, 2006

Right now, I hate pine scents.

As part of the Fall and Winter candle package that we now pick up every month, we got a half-dozen different pine scents. Pine and Holly. Winter Pine. Pining for You. Cheese and Pine. (It wasn't as bad as it sounded, at first.) But then after we started getting very busy and moving around in the house for plans and finishing touches and all of that fun stuff, they started to bother me. The scents. I walked into the kitchen and was assaulted by a noxious cloud of Pine Apple and immediately and as fastly as I could (I know fastly shouldn't be there, but work with me here) spun and virtually dove into the bathroom, holding my hand over a rising gorge. I missed the toilet, but I did spend a bit of time cleaning the shower.

---

Saturday, October 28th, 2006

Scents still bother me. Pine is a big offender. For some odd reason (is any reason during pregnancy -not- odd?) cedar isn't a problem. But I can now add apple to the list.

I was reviewing my spreadsheet I'd been keeping for things like that; I had been bored one day and began keeping track of the minutiae. Meegan thinks I'm odd (when has she never?) but it's interesting charting my 'progress.'

It seems to me the progression through pregnancy is not actually 'progress' because of the varied ups and downs experienced by both the pregnant and the pregnant's significant other. Morning sickness. Funky cravings. (Pot roast and vanilla pudding.) Constant urination. Evil reactions to scents. Inability to orgasm. (I even had researched that one when it popped up... Most sites and resources stated such a misfunction didn't occur til much later in the pregnancy. So either I'm lucky to have had it earlier, or, it'll be back...)

I digress somewhat and return to my spreadsheet... It seems that, as of two weeks ago, my mean time between tinkletrips was 47.4 minutes. This week, it's closer to 63.6. So, I get almost fifteen minutes more between peeing than I had previously. That's a good thing. It's quite embarassing to be in a two hour meeting and have to excuse myself to pee twice.

Meegan and I have been taking near-nightly walks, close to sunset. In a few more weeks that won't be quite so easy, as in November and December we won't be coming home til after the sun goes down.

It strikes me as chronologically funny that, in the course of the year, it's nearly Halloween, and Thanksgiving then Christmas, not to mention our 'anniversary' are right around the corner.

Meegan never mentions anything related to an 'anniversary.' I'm not sure if I should, either, because I just honestly don't know her feelings about it. I'm not going to pester her about it and I'll let her say anything related to it, but I'll make a couple plans for it just in case.

---

Friday, November 3rd, 2006

We got a shipment of candles and I was going through the box to find one of the candles had broken. I picked it up, sniffed it, smelled the fuzzy pine scent, and set it aside to clean up the glass.

After I was done, I blinked a couple times (delayed double-take?) and went back to smell the candle. It didn't bother me. YAY! I can scent scents again.

Though of course when I talked to the woman at the candle company they said we had received the current remainder of that scent and they'd credit us or send us something in back stock. I asked for something summery, just for a change of pace. Maybe in a rain or mist.

--

I'd gotten through most of the day, work day and all, and Meegan and I were doing our usual routine of after-dinner muted TV or movie with butter cream body painting when I noticed my tummy started to hurt, just a bit of a tweak. It wasn't the usual 'ow I ate too much chocolate' or 'starving feeeeeeed me Seymour' pain, it felt more like the ache I had after my appendectomy. So with a quick jaunt to the computer, I looked it up; apparently the ligaments that hold my uterus in place are starting to stretch and I can expect a little bit of tummy trouble.

Ah well, just a few more minutes of sympathetic Meegan massages *see my halo? it's held up by the horns.*

---

Monday, November 6th, 2006

We just got back from a sonogram. I think Meegan's more taken by the medical science of it all, seeing things on the outside, absorbing all the doctor or technician findings like a sponge. She's quite funny, and it's so endearing. Of course, everything they're talking about is -me- and once in a while I don't quite get the feeling she understands that it is -my- body being put through these amazing changes (and yes, amazing can be both positive and negative).

I'm not holding it against her, though.

I think once we have the appointment to determine the genders of the children she might get more into the swing of things as far as "oh Rachyl's changing, she's pregnant."

---

Thursday, November 9th, 2006

I feel like I'm cheating, only writing once a week. But what's the point in filling up my journal with 'I peed, I pooped, I went to work, ate, ate, napped on Meegan's office couch, ate, bathroom, ate, came home, had hot sex or a fun massage, soaked in the tub, watched a movie and went to bed'? Not much of one.

The fourteenth week, according to several resources, is supposed to bring constipation. Thankfully, the salads and fruit we eat every day for lunch (almost without fail) seem to be staving off that eventuality. They also state that veins in the chest and breasts may become more noticable, and that my areolae might be getting darker. If they have, Meegan hasn't said anything, and looking at them in the mirror, I don't notice much of a difference, but then, that could be my brain expecting an instantaneous color shift instead of a gradual one.

I wonder if Meegan has that old DVD of Veronica and I somewhere... For research purposes, of course!

---

Wednesday, November 15th, 2006

I noticed in the shower today a stiffness in my belly... I probably would have noticed it earlier, maybe as much as a week ago, except for the endearing ritual Meegan seems to have created for herself to wash me in the mornings. I showered solo today because she left early in a fit of creative release. She's been, while not at wit's end, very close to frazzled recently to get out certain designs before the end of the year. I heard her yesterday morning, in a fit of my own need for bladder release, talking to Connie on the phone very very early. She's gotten a wireless headset for her cellphone and has been pacing up in her studio some mornings, very very early.

The dichotomy between the two of us is rather odd sometimes, with my morning person habits and her night owl predilections. Opposites attract, so the songs, poets, etc all say, and yet we're not completely polar opposites... Just in some respects.

This is not more obvious than when I came across her (or continue to, accidentally, usually) with her phallic toy. I just... still can't use one myself. Even though I have it, in its box, in a corner of our huge master closet, the original blue glass dildo I'd purchased that night we went to Eternity with Veronica.

I've written her a few times. It has been weird, putting my thoughts, our dreams, onto paper here in this journal. But telling some of those, bundled with the "hey how's Mom" and trying to hint "Meegan misses you" while not forgetting "I miss you" coupled with a healthy dose of "we're going to be mommies!" has left me feeling recently, especially after the last one I mailed on the thirteenth, as if I'm dangling a "haha see what you're missing out on?" sign from my neck. And I know that is not the case! But I feel guilty, a little, just the same.

This of course brings me to the strange mental picture of Meegan standing between two very pregnant redheads.

---

Thursday, November 23rd, 2006

Sixteen weeks!

Thanksgiving!

Meegan refused to allow me to cook for our first true Thanksgiving together (something that had originally made me extremely angry at her, what with it being our first Thanksgiving at home - OUR HOME! - but I got over it after some rather matter of fact discussion about her concern for my well-being, the effects of a heavy turkey, a hot kitchen, and general exhaustedness I'd been experiencing the week prior) so we ended up ordering a turkey and all the trimmings from a restaurant in the city.

I imagine they do quite good business from that.

I noticed for the first time after we went for an after-meal walk that my feet were swollen.

---

Friday, December 1st, 2006

Seventeen weeks. I'm actually getting kind of bored of keeping track of the weeks; I'm much more enjoying the slow progression of my pregnancy with my wife, than keeping track of the minutiae and boring "this could happen to you!" list of side effects.

Everything has side effects.
Drinking water. If you drink water, you pee.
Eating. If you eat beans, you fart. I don't think I ever noticed if I fart when eating beans, but I have been recently. A Baja Fresh opened in the plaza up the street next to our drug store, and we went for the grand opening. It's been so long since I had Mexican, and this stuff was truly awesome. I had their chicken tostada salad... basically it is chicken, grated cheese, Pico de Gallo (tomato onions and cilantro), guacamole, and lettuce, on a bed of beans (I picked black) and in a big taco-style shell. Very yummy. I might need to collect the components to make that at home.
Sex. If you get laid, expect to be tired or at the very least prepare to clean up some toys or change the bed sheets.
Pregnancy. I've gained four pounds. I still walk, every day, I still exercise at the gym during lunch breaks at work, but I've gained four pounds. I am pregnant, after all, with twins. Meegan said she felt them move last night when we made love but I think it was just the aftershocks of the five or six orgasms she'd given me rippling through my body.
Driving. If you drive, you get the temptation to go places instead of your destination. I stopped at a jeweler in the city.
Shopping. I am female. Watch me shop! Bwahahaha.
Making friends. When shopping, one gets the urge to call friends to have them join oneself, then one blushes profusely at the too-much-information session when your lover's best friend tells you that -her- lover can't come to the phone because she'd just finished coming herself, and needed to recover from being turned into an orgasmic puddle of goo.

---

Tuesday, December 4th, 2006

We received a phonecall yesterday as a reminder to schedule our twenty week ultrasound. I did that this morning.

After I made myself a completely unhealthy breakfast of a scrambled egg and cheesesteak sandwich with pickles and maraschino cherries.

Of course after that I felt my belly bouncing. After doing some research, thinking I was going to be the star for the Wide World of Wide Belly Olympics, I discovered that it was because one of the babies had gotten the hiccups. I tried apologizing for my horrible menu selection, but it was -so- delicious. I did feel a little urpy afterwards.

I don't remember when it was that I decided Meegan and my "anniversary" was December Eighth... But that was the day she came back to her "old self" and also the day she decided we should buy a house.

I'm turning the box over and over in my hands, after I took it out of its hiding spot in the library... but somehow, giving it to her for that, or for Christmas or Valentine's just doesn't seem right.

---

Saturday, December 8th, 2006.

The beginning of nineteen weeks.

We made love this morning. Somehow I was awake before she was, and finding her splayed across her customary side of the bed was just too tempting to ignore. Especially with a new set of bars she'd gotten for her nipples sparkling in the sunlight, and the easy access her near-wakening posture offered to suckle gently. Not to mention the extended leg, met with the spread leg-folded knee of her other leg...

I don't think we left the bedroom until almost eleven. Bed, shower, bed; even with my frustratingly interruptive bouts of "oop gotta pee" it was a great way to start a new day.

Meegan found one stretch mark (so far, I ponder sadly) over near my appendectomy scar. I had kind of expected that... After all, compared to the rest of the skin on my belly and abdomen, that's technically the weakest. So far I've been very fortunate that my pregnancy hasn't torn it open or made it much uglier than it could be, but I still have twenty one weeks left of Human Incubation.

Not to mention the very real possibility of needing a Caesarean. I don't want one, I want to have them naturally, but with my size, it very well may not be a possibility.

That's something to discuss with the doctor.

---

Wednesday, December 13th, 2006

The twenty week checkup was today. We scheduled an ultrasound for the "regular stuff" and put our names in to try a new 3d Sonogram early January.

Meegan noticed another change this morning... She said my belly button inverted. I couldn't figure out why my belly had hurt last night until she said that. I'd been expecting it, but not so sudden a change. It looks very weird, having an "outtie", almost like there's a little cinnamon roll of navel there. Which of course upon my imparting my mental image of it, trying to spy myself in the mirror, Meegan rolled her eyes and just walked out.

Daily something occurs between us that makes me wonder how we ever made it. And then something happens later, or I just look at her, and realize as my heart swells with love for her, for the mother of my children, or as I ponder certain delicious things I want to do to her, that love conquers many inequities and incompatibilities.

---

In Sunday Shopping, Rachyl is looking at the following Versace dress:

http://www.versace.com/flash.html then choose Runway - Women - #5

For the entirety of Sunday Mass and Brunch and Sunday Shopping she is wearing: this skirt and this top. The shoes are here.

---

And Rachyl chooses this one in khaki/chestnut.



Looks almost like a pattern for a dance step, no? :teehee


added:

DKNY -
Item two for the business suit
Items one and two for the top and skirt

Fredericks:
Corset w/ silver laces
Opaque bodystocking

Pulling Cement through Cheesecloth (journalistic)

---

Author's note:
It has been many years since I'd attended a therapy session for the following events. But after meeting Denise (in all her birthday suited glory) the memories came rushing back.
I haven't dreamt of... what follows, but it is another phase of my life I haven't shared voluntarily with Meegan (though in all likelihood she knows at least some of the sordid details.)

So while awaiting a phonecall back from the Lab for my tests, I decided to start writing - in third person, as best I could - what happened the day I found Denise Spelner's husband Anderson dead on the grounds of the Ephraim Estate.

The act of remembering hasn't been so difficult. One of the things I learned during therapy was to not let the memories bother me. Another was to not bury them, as they could resurface painfully. Statistically speaking, of course.

Though, one of the things I think of at this moment is: "I wonder how my therapist would react if I told her I broke down and nearly vomitted in the hall of Nachton's Art Museum when I saw my father's painting." I hadn't buried those memories, and yet, it had affected me.

Every morning when I wake up next to the reposing form of Meegan Masters (whether she be asleep or with mischievous hands and a playful smile) I feel resurge in me the complete antithesis of the hatred I'd felt at that moment.

Likewise, each new discovery I've made with her has brought me joy and even rapture - the antithesis, the polar opposites of what I'd felt that day.

It had been a few weeks before Halloween during my senior year of High School. I wasn't quite the law abiding citizen I am now; rather, I was a bit of a rebel.

Hard to believe, I'm sure.

The writing of this, though, has proven to be the difficult part. I paced the sunroom, trying to figure out first, where to start, and second, why this was being so difficult to transition to paper. Is this really something I want to share with Meegan? No, but I figure I should. She can choose to read or not read what follows; after all, we are adults. After all, I brought it up.

When I found myself at the kitchen door, bashing my head slowly on the glass, a revelation came to me in the form of a title... And I ran back to the computer as fast and carefully as I could to neither curtail nor contain the current of thought.

So I begin, then, this short tale, with the following realization:

"Remembering these events was easy. Trying to put this on paper, though, has been as difficult as pulling cement through cheesecloth."

---

"Come on, you weakling! We've only got a half hour of daylight left!" Echoes bounced off the forest nearby as the shouter paused, midway up a hill, to look back at the treeline.

There stood her companion, all five foot nine and two hundred fifty pounds of him, panting against a tree. "Dammit, Rach, I have no idea how you outran me. Gimme a min, or I'll bust a nut!"

"You'll move NOW, Jack, or you won't be busting a nut later!" Turning back up the hill, Rachyl Walker put one foot in front of the other, gaining speed, as the crest receded before her. In the distance, a tall structure loomed, silhouetted by the twilight's rays.

Ephraim Mansion had been abandoned since Rachyl was eleven; all the occupants suddenly up and moved away, leaving the house and its land to deteriorate.

In truth, prior to her first visit here with her mother, Rachyl had never seen such a humungous house before, such a mansion. The houses in her home town of Millville were all single-family ranchers, with the occasional split-level or Cape Cod.

Her mother had been trying for nearly eight years to purchase the property and its land; Millville's High School was falling apart. The town council had planned for a new one, but the proposed school was much too large for the current property.

The four floor structure towered over Rachyl now as she approached a side door. She couldn't hear Jack's footsteps behind her... even as a jock Jack was awfully heavy-footed.

"Wooden plank siding," she thought to herself, the training her mother'd given her allowing her to appraise the house quickly. "Four floors, at least two entrances, full basement, large shed, barn, animal pens, probably for horses. Greenhouse... bet that's overgrown."

As Rachyl glanced at the front door, noting the 'Condemned' signs nailing it shut, she caught movement on the hill. Turning her eyes towards it, she saw Jack, moving in a squat, across the knee-high grass.

The sun was barely visible over the tall barn, a hundred yards away, when Jack finally caught up to her. "You bitch, why can't you wait?"

Whirling on him, she punched him in the chest. "Watch yourself, Kowalski. You were the one who volunteered to come with me. And if you want to come with me, you better keep up. I wanted to be inside while the sun was still up, but as it is, we're going to have to break my stash of flashlights and glowsticks." Gaping at the girl before him, Jack Kowalski was silent, and only nodded after she finished her complaint. Jack's father was on the Millville PD, second in command. Jack was sure to never get in trouble for doing something as 'reckless' as trespassing on the Ephraim estate, but the promise of getting with Rachyl Walker was too good to pass up.

Rachyl stood a scant five feet tall. Dark red, wildly curly tresses flowed about her head, tied back in a ponytail. A few wild curls dipped in her vision, and she was forever blowing them out of her sight or wisking them behind an ear with a finger. Bright green eyes with flecks of gold sparkled above pale but rosy cheeks.

Jack's gaze couldn't help but drop to Rachyl's breasts as she turned back to the house. He followed her, matching step for step, until she stopped at the basement doorway.

Rachyl reached into a large pocket at the side of her thigh, her cargo pants dragged low by a heavy weight inside. Fishing for the bottle, she wrapped her fingers around it, and unscrewed the cap as she brought it to her mouth.

Gulping at the cool water, she passed it back to Jack, and dropped it when he didn't grab it fast enough. Rolling her eyes, she hauled on the heavy oaken doors covering the basement steps.

A resounding bang returned from the barn by the time Rachyl was at the bottom of the short run of steps, standing before the iron door. Encrusted along all four edges with oxidation, the door swung open easily before the might of Rachyl's kick.

Jack paused, surprised; the door didn't squeak, as he'd expected, and he mentioned as much to Rachyl.

"Come here a lot," was her only explanation.

The basement was nearly completely dark, the last of the twilight streaming through dirty windows spaced along the walls. Jack sensed the room was very dirty, and even smelled a whiff of mold, and something... else. He shivered, and wrapped his fingers about the waistband of Rachyl's jeans.

They wound their way through the basement, past jutting piles of junk and detritus. A protruding piece of something caught Jack's pantleg, and he fell into Rachyl's back, knocking her off-balance, then to the floor.

"Clutz," she admonished as Jack felt a hand pulling him to his feet. Rachyl was strong for her size, he realized, brushing dirt from his sport jacket.

"Look, just... wait here." Rachyl ordered, and Jack heard her footsteps fade away.

---

The scent kept tugging at Jack's nostrils as he waited for Rachyl to return.

Eyes finally adjusted to the dark, he moved through the basement, following his nose. Feel like a damned bloodhound, he thought.

A tiny breeze trickled across Jack's face as he came to a door, slightly ajar. Jack felt the edges for a handle, and found it. Pushing it, he felt some resistance, as if something was behind it, but finally was able to push it open enough to enter.

The bare scent Jack had detected before now hit aromatic senses full force, and he groaned, quickly covering his mouth, trying to hold in his gorge.

Leaned over, Jack emptied the contents of his lunch onto the floor, adding to the already horrendous stench in the room.

As he straightened, a flash of something shiny caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Directing his attention towards it, Jack approached it, careful not to slip.

Stretching his hand out carefully, Jack touched the shiny object, which moved more into the tiny bit of light left.

Feels kind of round, he thought, and wrapped his palm about it to pick it up. A ball? he tried to guess.

Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, he brought out his Zippo, and flicked it alight.

As his eyes readjusted to the sudden illumination, Jack stared for a moment at the item in his hand. A stark white smile shone up at him, and the divided nostrils of a bony face, festooned with the hard round orb of a skull.

With a yelp, Jack dropped both lighter and skull, extinguishing the former and cracking the latter.

Slowly backing up, he felt out with his right hand, trying to find the edge of the doorjamb, so he could exit.

Heart pounding in his ears, Jack's foot caught on something, and he fell backwards, bumping against something soft, which gave way as he landed.

Stars slowly gave way to a pair of rotted shoes, swinging just above his nose. As they moved, Jack got a glimpse of a body, perpendicular to the floor, and swaying ever slower, a low creaking sound with every move. Every turn of the body brought with it a fresh wave of the dirty, rancid stench.

Scrambling to a crabwalk he moved out from under the body, and saw a length of rope tied to a ceiling joist.

Slamming the corpse out of the way, Jack tumbled back through the door, and ran as fast and carefully as he could out of the basement, yelling the whole way.

A sudden yell startled Rachyl so, that she walked into the kitchen table trying to get to a window to follow the sound.

Rubbing her hip gingerly, she saw a figure running pell-mell across the front yard, and watched, disappointed, as it disappeared into the distance.

"Some jocks just don't know how to deal with pressure." she muttered under her breath.

Flicking on the flashlight she'd uncovered, she dashed down the steps back into the basement towards the door they'd come in.

Memory guiding her feet, she avoided every pile of debris, every jutting piece of junk as she approached the steps.

Step. Step. She lifted the beam of light to the steps as she ran, when her foot landed on the bottle of water she'd dropped earlier.

"Damn," was the only thought that had time to run through her head, as she fell, heels in the air, and cracked her head on the floor.

The flashlight tumbled out of her hands and rolled away, its beam illuminating Rachyl's now-pale face and the slight trickle of crimson in her hair.

---

The breeze that whisked past Rachyl's nose was a lot fresher than the air in Millville, and didn't reek of anything at all resembling the basement she'd just been in.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, bit by bit, and realized she was looking at the underside of an arboreal canopy. Chirping and the clicks and rasps of assorted insects sounded in her ears as she inhaled deeply of the forest.

Rachyl blinked several times. Wasn't I just in the basement? she thought.

Bending at the waist, she tried to sit up, but stopped, and suddenly fell back, overcome with nausea. Head spinning, she rolled to her side carefully and released her lunch on the underbrush.

Breath shallow, Rachyl waited for the discomfort to subside, and wiped her mouth on a tissue. Pushing up with her hand, she rose to a crawling position. Willing the dizziness away, she pushed herself to a kneel.

Breathing deeply to prevent its return, Rachyl gingerly moved a hand to the back of her head. I know I hit my head... but how bad? Her gently probing fingers didn't detect any bumps or breaks, but she knew she got hurt pretty bad from the way she felt.

She rested a few moments before looking around.

The forest was dark around her, mist hanging low beneath the canopy and obscuring anything further than a few dozen yards away.

A break in the underbrush nearby, stretching in either direction, seemed to be a path through the forest.

Rachyl rose to her feet carefully, using a close tree to stabilize herself. She ran her meticulously manicured hands across her body, brushing dirt and pine needles from her rounded form.

Inspecting her nails carefully, she cursed, "Fuck! I broke a nail!"

Sighing with frustration, she slowly picked her way to the path, avoiding tendrils of thorns.

Pausing at the path, she looked left and right. Neither direction stands out... she thought.

Turning her foot, she dug a mark in the path's side, and headed to her left.


For a while, Rachyl walked thorugh the forest; the path arrowed amazingly straight through the trees.

She realized she'd been walking a while, and started to look about, peering into the oppressing grey gloom, when something at the corner of her eye caught her attention. Gazing down, she spied a familiar marking in the trail's dirt. She paused, staring down at it, the back of her head aching slightly.

"Of all the fucking retarded..." A scream of frustration echoed from the trees around, as she turned and walked in the opposite direction.

The spaces between the trees lightened as she proceeded along the path. Underbrush thickened, and a field lay before her, but the trailhead was strangely overgrown with thorns and vines.

A hand fell to her thigh, and unsnapped her military knife from the sheath. The tempered steel blade sliced effortlessly through the tangle of vegetation, allowing the woman a clear path.

Before her stood a mansion, quite unlike the one she'd thought she'd find. She'd been to the Ephraim Mansion before, but this looked nothing like it. Large, grecian urns stood upon pedestals of stone, along a rail in front of the building. Windows proved dark or blocked inside, but for the sparkle of light through one, just around a gentle corner.

The brickwork was stunning, if dilapidated; it previously must have held a unique pattern of colors. A weather vane above the topmost spire of the house showed the wind to be blowing from the south, but the animal portrayed above that, Rachyl did not recognize. A gigantic wingspan, a huge skull... If she didn't know any better, she'd imagine it a dragon. But dragons don't exist, she told herself.

Rachyl climbed the stone stairs to the large, oaken door. A strange feeling of forboding, combined with excitement, washed over her as she examined the intricate carvings on the pillars abuting the doorway.

There did not seem to be a door knocker present; indeed, there was not even a marking on the door to suggest one had hung there previously. The brass handle, set rather high on the door, for one of her stature, was heavily corroded. Some of the accretion seemed to have been rubbed off recently, as if someone had entered.

Drawing a deep breath, Rachyl's hand rose to the giant handle, and squeezed the latching tongue. She pulled it open as best she could; for being oak, it was a rather heavy door.

Upon opening it sufficiently, she stepped inside.

The large receiving room stood empty, save for the swirling dance of blue grey mists that filled the space, covering a few sparce furnishings within. A great fireplace stood empty and cold to one side of the room, and several doors led off into the depths of the building from all directions. Faint whispers carried over the fog, soft and delicate as a breeze to greet the newest arrival at the door.

Amid the shadows a figure stood and waited patiently for the girl to enter further, hands clasped behind it's back lightly. Only a sound resembling silk upon stone issuing when it moved to one corner out of the way to allow the new guest time to explore.

Rachyl paused as she closed the door behind, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light inside the house. As the near features began to take shape, she saw to one side a huge fireplace, large enough to stand several people, shoulder to shoulder, it seemed, a few small chairs, and several doors.

A soft rustle in her ear caused her to whip her head about, ponytail whirling about and slapping her in the face. Ignoring the slight discomfort of hair impacting her eye, Rachyl stared into the darkness opposite her, half expecting an animal or a horror-movie style murderer to pop out at her. When the sound didn't continue, she slowly picked her way to a nearby chair, and all but collapsed on it. The sudden thud of her landing and squeak of the chair sliding ringing throughout the room, she rested her head on her hands gently, nausea spinning her senses and twisting her guts again. Several deep breaths later, she belched loudly, picking her head up, and wished she still had that thrice-bedamned bottle of water with her.

She shrieked as a sudden weight in her hand surprised her, shaking her hand quickly, thinking a rat had jumped into it, or worse. A subsequent thud drew her attention to the floor, and there, near the wall, rolled a bottle of water...

"It seems you have discovered one of the properties of the Manse, though I don't think I've ever seen someone achieve that so quickly upon entering," a dulcet voice intoned quietly. From the shadows, a figure emerged. Rachyl tried not to stare, but her eyes were riveted to the eyes of sparkling clear blue, set in a shapely face. A shapely -blue- face. Blinking a couple times forcefully, she focused, though it pained her, on the being before her. An elegant mane of pure, snow-white hair dangled around her shoulders in soft bunches. Her plump lips were curled into a careful smile, and concern? was etched on her features. Rachyl only hoped it was concern, and not hunger, as her gaze absorbed the rest of the being. Her dress - robe - gown - whatever was very sheer, as evidenced by the roundness of her pronounced globes, and visible peaks. The lower bell of the gown spread out, but Rachyl could tell she was standing. Standing, and short. A very shapely woman indeed, Rachyl thought, as the only response her mind could formulate, pained as it was, issued from her lips.

"Huh?"

"You do not look well, child," the woman observed. She moved closer to Rachyl, who suddenly found herself sitting in a chair closer to the fireplace. The bottle of water rose from the floor and landed on the table next to her. She fought the urge to try to follow the woman as she moved behind, then around, the chair, to stand in front of her. "Not well at all. And the blood running from your head leads me to believe you received a sharp blow... in battle?"

"Battle?" Even snorting derisvely hurt. "Fell in the basement. Came here somehow. Where is here?" she asked.

"You, dear, are sitting in The Manse of Dreams. It is a magical place to which all dreaming souls are drawn, though very few have the ability or desire to enter. That is where your strange little bottle came from; you wished it, and it is. Drink of it, you will have need if you are indeed injured, but I do hope you wake soon, or that someone finds you."

Rachyl did recognize now the concern in the indigo-skinned woman's face. "Me too," she croaked, as she unscrewed the water bottle and drank. Something moved in her hair.

"When you wake up, you will remember this place, though I am unsure if you will be able to return. Injury is not the most conducive way to enter The Manse..." The woman placed a delicate hand on her knee. "It would have been nice to have another new visitor," she commented, seemingly offhandedly. "Come, warm yourself," she commanded, and as she stood, Rachyl's chair slid closer to the suddenly roaring fire. The chair's arms rose to close around her gently, holding her upright.

Crystal blue eyes suddenly were immediately before her face, green sparkles inside the deepest black pupils. "Rest."

---

The flashes of light that suddenly filled her vision were extremely distracting, and The Manse disappeared. Voices filled her ears; footsteps and shuffling, banging and sirens made her cry out in pain.

"She's awake. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Six," Rachyl counted, but that didn't sound right in her head. She tried to close one eye, to focus, but her head swam and spun. "Ow."

"Try not to move too much, you've got a nasty concussion. Get her some oxygen," she heard, and a mask was strapped over her face. "We're taking you to the hospital."

-------

It was six hours later when Rachyl woke, her mother cradling her hand and snoring gently against her leg. She tried to sit up, but the nausea was overwhelming. She tried to lean over, and when the room twisted like a rollercoaster, dryheaved with a single "hurk" against the wall next to her. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, she groaned as she returned to her back. "Ow."

------

The doctor's voice was abrasive and gave Rachyl the feeling someone was dragging her head across railroad ties. After a few minutes of his endless droning, she spoke up. "Doc, I really do appreciate whatever it is you're trying to tell me, but your voice is making my head hurt. Could you either come back in a couple days, or have someone else give me and my mother the news, or suck the helium out of one of these get-well-soon balloons? Thanks."

With that, she piled her pillow around her head, wincing at the rush of fresh pain, but blocked out his response. She thought she heard her mother speaking, but she was suddenly asleep.

------

A large field of blue obscured Rachyl's vision for a few moments as her eyes focused. The blur resolved itself into a man. Jack Kowalski's father-bear-of-a-man. "Hi Big Jack," Rachyl heard herself squeak.

"Miss Walker, we have a few questions to ask..."

------

She woke again later. "You know, Rachyl, when I suspected you were going to the Ephraim Estate, I wasn't quite sure what for, outside of typical teen rebellion. Then I found the birth control pills in your room. And the police found condoms at the estate. I'm so very-"

"Mom. You'll notice the birth control pills have never been opened. The condoms at the estate aren't mine. I haven't had sex, Mom, and I'm rather disappointed you'd jump to that conclusion just because I had a boy at the place."

"You're right. Instead, I had to talk Big Jack out of slapping you with trespassing charges. After all, they found something there much worse."

"What do you mean much worse?"

"Do you remember Mrs. Spelner?"

"Yeah."

"Remember how her husband disappeared earlier this year?"

"Yeah."

"They found his body in the basement."

------

It wasn't too long after that Denise started visiting her mother at home. At first, their talks ostensibly resembled a negotiation for the Ephraim estate's dismantling... then the town meetings started for the purchase of the land for the new high school.

Rachyl's mom came home with a new car soon after that, and a sizable amount was invested for her daughter.

Mrs. Spelner didn't visit as much, but Rachyl hadn't noticed, as she'd started college immediately after graduating.

The new high school was completed a year later.