Presto Manifesto

I just wanted to share this, because I think it's absolutely fantastic.

I've been reading a few other blogs that touch on BDSM relationships, and I have to admit, this is one of those things that I can't quite wrap my brain around. I understand that everyone is different in what 'floats their boat'. Even though I have no interest in open marriage, tranny sex, or furry fetishes for myself, I can understand that there is an appeal in these things for some people, for whatever reason. And I don't find myself judging people who are into those things. But one thing I have found myself cringing at is an S/M relationship. I can almost understand the appeal of being a submissive - the allure of pleasing to any extent. Because with that comes the feeling of security. Removing the responsibility of having to make your own decisions, I suppose. But that is where my understanding begins to wane.
Are we entering into dangerous territory when part of intimacy involves being collared and choked, spit at and slapped in the face, and mocking acts of rape? I try not to be judgmental, I really do. But I can't help but wonder what goes on in a persons brain that would WANT to do this to their partner. How can love be equated with calling someone their slut or whore. Mutual consent understood, I still can't grasp the mentality of dominants that feel it is appropriate to choke, degrade, and humiliate their partners. Any readers have any enlightenment to share?

When I was in high school, I took a job as a kennel attendant in a veterinary hospital. The idea was, I would gain some experience before trying my luck at getting into veterinary school in college. It was a seemingly ideal situation, because the Doctor was actually someone who had a say if you got into Veterinary school or not! Great. Seems easy enough....make a good impression, work my ass off, learn some things along the way...but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
The Doctor was indeed a deciding factor in who got into veterinary school because she was the first woman to graduate from said school. With a husband and (now grown) children, she seemed to have it all and I thought she would be the perfect role model.

At first, I didn't have a lot of interaction with her. I mostly spent my time taking all the dogs in our kennels out for their walks, cleaning kitty litter trays, and carrying back breakingly heavy bags of dog food up and down the stairs for customers. Then one day, Doctor was to show me the ropes on a few other things. I was moving up the ladder! I was to be told how to run blood work, administer medication, and also how to be in exam rooms with the doctor during appointments.
After being instructed on the straightforward tasks of blood work and medication administration, she told me I was doing a great job. I was feeling pretty confident in my work until one day, she decided I didn't know what I was doing. Having not done a thing different from the previous week when she told me I was doing it right, I was baffled. Without even the slightest touch annoyance, I opened my mouth to ask her what I was doing wrong and she quickly stopped me mid question saying, "Never question me! I know what I'm talking about! You're just a dumb kid!" I left the room, as instructed and returned to shoveling out kennels. As I sat on my knees in a kennel, toothbrush in hand, trying to remove dog crap from the little diamonds of the chain link fencing, I felt confused. I knew I was a smart girl. After all, I was graduating high school early and had been accepted to my college of choice early as well.....what the heck was going on here? Merely minutes later, Doctor came back to ask me "What the hell are you doing back here?? I need you up front! I never told you to come back here!!!" At that moment, I knew it wasn't me. The Doctor was just crazy. Whew, that's a load off. My opinion felt validated when I saw her refusing to wear gloves during surgeries and watched her pick at the dried animal blood caked under her acrylic nails during lunch.

Her craziness aside, I tried my hardest to go with the flow so I wouldn't mess up my chances of getting into vet school. She ridiculed me on a daily basis, calling me names in front of clients, saying everything from "You can't do anything right" to "You're too fat to be a doctor", even though I was quite toned from all the lifting I was doing. She also played mind games with me, asking me to go get something for her only to tell me what an idiot I was for bringing the wrong thing. I just kept telling myself, "just be nice, just put up with it, it will be worth it". Then one day, a girl who'd worked for Doctor for 8 years came in and told us that she was so upset....Doctor didn't really have the say so on who got into vet school...she was shot down. The woman was abusing her employees on the promise that she could get them something she had no power to do. That day, she lost most of her employees. Including me. I knew I never wanted to end up a crazy old woman like that, and I quickly emailed my advisors to change my major.

Sarah, from Etcetera, Etc. gave me a lovely shout out, and a great idea. I'm a follower of many a blog, but there are a few that I absolutely read every time there is an update. Every one of them has something different to offer. So, in the spirit of lists, here are some of my must reads*:

Pearl, why you little...
This one is new for me, but I adore Pearl's writing. She is super funny and always has a way to make everyday life humorous....and she makes it look easy! If you're in the mood for a chuckle and a dose of wit, head to Pearl's.

From the City of Lights
David has two other blogs that I also follow, Ask a Frenchman and Le Nouveau Siècle. I really enjoy Ask a Frenchman for the informative responses he gives and for the digs he gives to the people who clearly deserve it for asking such ridiculous questions. And Le Nouveau Siècle is also quite interesting (if you read French) with postcards from the early 20th century. But, I find that From the City of Lights has a little bit of everything. I'm drawn to his blog for not only his insightful writing, but also his point of view on many things, be it politics, music, or society tends to run alongside mine. Must read for sure!

An American in Provence
Megan's blog was actually the first one I read before starting my own. I really enjoy her stories of being whisked away from America by a handsome Frenchman, reinventing her life as an expat in Marseille, and FINALLY finishing her apartment ;) Great writing.

Sexie Sadie's Stories of Seduction

Ok, so not exactly Voltaire, but good reading none the less. Well, depending on what you're looking for. I know what I get from Sadie's is usually a sexy anecdote on her unconventional love life. It is what it is....a guilty pleasure, what can I say?

*I will add more in another installment

Right off the bat, I had a feeling this was going to be good because it has such a stellar cast and crew. Spike Jonze did an amazing job on this film. Aesthetically, it was very childlike and imaginative, though not in the manner of defining it as a children's film. There were lots of browns and dark greens as in the illustrations in the book, but also bits of beautiful blues in contrast.
The soundtrack was wonderful, giving it a vibe of hipness and again straying from the notion that one was watching a children's film. Even if you don't like the story line, you are likely to appreciate the music and beauty of the film itself.

The film is definitely not directed toward children, despite being based on a children's book. Where the Wild Things Are is a film about a little boy, Max, distressed by a mother's relationship with a man and loses control, as children do when they are feeling dispensable. After a climactic battle with his mother, Max runs off into the woods and finds himself on an island with The Wild Things. One of the Wild Things is a parallel of Max, while another is of his mother. There are also two characters on the island which parallel Max's mother's boyfriend, also indicating that this film is geared toward adults who enjoyed the book as children, rather than children looking for bright lights and sparkles which have basically consumed all kid's movies lately.
In short, it's a beautiful story, a beautiful film, and certainly does the book justice.

I think it's safe to say that most people (American, anyway) know what "The List" is. But for those of you who let this term slip under their pop-culture radar, I'll explain. The List is a an imaginary roster of 5 people whom you and your spouse have previously agreed to look the other way if an opportunity for a sexual encounter should present itself. Now, the list can't have people you know, but rather celebrities, musicians, authors, or even fictional characters. The fun in this is that you both know the chances of this actually happening are slim to none (especially in the instance of fictional characters!).
So, having said all that, let me present, in no particular order, The List:


1. Glen Hansard:

Ok, you should know that musicians are automatically given preference. I can't even tell you why. There is just something about a man who knows how to make music that is just plain hot. Secondly, Glen is from Ireland so he has an accent....another thing that automatically makes you hot(ter?). Winning combo. I don't usually go for red heads, but Glen Hansard is an exception.

2. Jemaine Clement:

Again, musician and accent. Bam! Winning combo. But Jemaine also has another edge: He is ridiculously funny. There is nothing sexier than a good sense of humor. But also, look at those lips....

3. Hank Moody:

Yes, a fictional character. I could have said David Duchovny, but that just wouldn't do. There is something so hot about Californication's Hank Moody. I think it's a combination of his confidence, which often seeps across the arrogance line, and his wit. Those are two other combinations guaranteed to make me swoon. Sure, he's kind of a man whore, but I can see why.

4. D'angelo:

I really don't think this one needs an explanation. Just look at the guy!


5. Bam Margera:

I really should be embarrassed about this one, but I'm not. True, he is kind of an ass. True, his humor is sophomoric. True, he probably doesn't have much going on upstairs. But one thing he does have is that arrogance/confidence thing going. And also, the tattoos. OH the tattoos...



So who is on your list?

Having as tumultuous a childhood as  I did, I was very lucky to have someone who could always be counted on ....and someone with whom I could commiserate. My brother. I have two brothers, one is just three years old and has a different father. While clearly I love him, I have little in common with him and consider him more of a nephew than a brother. My other brother is 24 years old and only 18 months my junior. He and I grew up together and experienced every peak and descent together.

From the time  he was born, I would sneak into his crib and sleep snuggled next to him. He was always a very small boy, with skinny legs and freckles across his nose and shoulders, especially during summer. Along with his frail frame, my brother was born with a neurological eye disorder. The disorder would cause constant, involuntary moving of his eyes, giving him poor eyesight and the title 'legally blind'. From age two, Brother had to wear thick, coke bottle glasses, giving him a look not unlike Chicken Little. The combination of his disability, along with his frail frame brought out a fierce protectiveness in me. I wouldn't have anyone treating him any differently...I certainly didn't and proved it by regularly annoying him or picking fights with him, as any big sister would.

While he was intensely smart and something of a computer guru by middle school, Brother and I both had the same group of friends, who you might remember as trouble makers. It didn't take long before he was drinking, smoking, and skipping school. His misbehavior,  coupled with bad eyesight and a stubborness about asking for help or even larger print books caused him to have problems at school. Halfway through highschool, he left and got his GED.....and also grew about 1 foot! At the same time, I was going away for college and couldn't help feeling guilty.  I was moving a mere 2 hours away and felt like I was abandoning this  little boy whom I had felt this fierce protectiveness over since birth. I was going away and leaving him behind. I was leaving him behind with friends that were causing him to destroy his life. I was leaving him with parents in the midst of ending their marriage. I was leaving him to pursue my dreams and rid myself of the recent memories of my  morally corrupt adolescence. I left him, causing him to get further into trouble, eventually getting into some illegal drug activity.
When I got married and came back to the city Brother and I grew up in, he was a person I barely recognized. No longer the frail little boy of my childhood, he towered over me with many gold chains around his neck and a billfold he had trouble even fitting into his pocket. Then, That Night happened. The night my Dad tried to commit suicide and our worlds changed. Brother reacted differently to it than I did. While I hovered over our Dad's bedside, adament to be there for him, Brother couldn't do it. He couldn't watch our Dad in that bed, hooked up to all those machines. He came in a few times, just to play his guitar for Dad, who was still unconscious.
When our Dad woke up, Brother told us all that he was leaving. He was leaving to change his life. He moved to Arizona for awhile, exceling at his computer networking job, before moving to Hawaii, then Arkansas.
Finally, about a month ago, Brother decided to move to Chicago, only a 2 hour train ride away from me. We have spent a few weekends together, me listening to him playing guitar or having lunch with him. Though he doesn't have a job in Chicago yet, he has a resume that is certain to land him a great job soon. He's turned his life around and I couldn't be prouder.



This is my brother singing and playing guitar, with me on violin