Friday, June 16, 2017

So About That Random Naked Guy...

He came back.

With an invitation this time.
He IMed me a couple of days ago with condolences. He didn't have to do that after how I'd treated him (and blogged about him) but he did.

And we started chatting and I invited him over. Though we're both naked in that photo (well, all these photos), nothing really happened that night. We just sat and talked and it was barely even sexual at all. Oh, we flirted a bit but we kept it reasonably clean. Extremely clean for me.

And you know what, you guys? I like him.
We got together again tonight at this really gorgeous surfing sim he showed me. We sat in a waterfall, cuddled a lot, and talked a lot.

Did I mention I like him?
He's intelligent. Mature. Easy to talk to, even in voice. And if you know me at all, you know I shy away from voice most of the time. We spent a couple of hours just talking.
I won't say it didn't get sexual... you all know me better than that, and he is fabulously handsome, but the sexual things didn't actually happen in SL. It happened in voice. And it was exquisite.

And I enjoyed it, a lot... and I enjoyed just spending time talking to him just as much as I enjoyed the sex.

How about them apples, huh?
Is this going to go anywhere? Who knows? We just met and though he's followed me on Flickr and this blog for a while, we're really just getting to know each other now.

I just know I like him, and for right now, that's all that really matters.

So maybe having random naked guys wander onto my property from time to time isn't such a bad thing.

It certainly wasn't in this case.
After he logged off, I wandered around the sim he showed me for a while. You should visit... it's amazingly well done. It's called the Surf Cove at Playa Perdida. Be sure to read the notecard at the landing point and don't mistake this for a sex sim! The focus is water sports (not THOSE kind) and other outdoor activities. It's gorgeous and I loved exploring, and zip-lining, and cliff diving, and yes, I even tried my hand at surfing.

Can't say I was very good at it, but I'll give it another try!
And then I found a hammock strung up high in a tree and just thought about life for a while. Thought about Dad, and how desperately much I miss him. It's been a week now, and I still keep grabbing my phone to see if he's called me.

I miss him so much. It still hurts but I know he isn't suffering anymore, and he was before he passed. I find some peace in that.

I still want him back here with me, though.
So, yeah... that's what's going on with me. Still hurting, but it's not quite so acute anymore. At least, not every moment. 

And I'm retracting my previous statements about random naked guys, or at least a certain one. He's welcome to wander onto my land any time he wants. And I hope he does. :-)

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Damn Shoes

In the end, it was his shoes that brought me down.

We went to clean out his room today. I knew it was going to be hard, and I didn't have to be there, but I wanted to be.

And I was doing okay. Sad, of course, but holding it together. My sister was already playing the role of the pitiful weepy daughter. I wanted to be the strong one.

It was going well. No one was fighting over who got what. We were all there together and making quick work of splitting things up and moving furniture, etc.

And then I saw them. His tennis shoes. Just sitting there on the floor by his chair where he always kept them, like he was just waiting to put them on and go for a walk.

Those damn shoes. They just fucking triggered me and I crumpled like a cheap piece of paper. I mean, I was just standing there and BOOM... I was wailing. I mean, forget ugly crying, I was full on snot-flowing, gasping for air, hiccuping, sobbing. Forget trying to hold it together... I was just trying to stay on my feet. It just hit me like a ton of fucking bricks.

One of my brothers threw his arms around me and let me just let it go. Held me up and just let me... well, hell, I soaked his shirt in tears and snot and probably slobber, too.

I took ugly crying to a new level of gross, and I'm not the slightest bit ashamed.

Because you know what? It felt fucking amazing. Just letting it out, not caring who saw, who heard... I shattered.

And it felt so good.

Didn't last very long, I don't think. I don't really know. It didn't feel like a long time. Someone shoved a wad of tissue in my hand and I cried until I stopped.

I know it's not the end of the tears. It wasn't even the end of the tears for that hour. But usually I'm more of a tears just running down the cheeks kinda girl.

But for a few minutes today, I was... wrecked.

I am so glad I got that out of my system.

Friday, June 9, 2017

Goodbye, Daddy

I lost my father early this morning.

I'm just... I don't know. I don't know what I am right now, what I feel.

Yes, we were expecting it, but not this fast, not this quickly. I wasn't quite ready, damn it. He started declining fast a couple days ago. We'd been told weeks to days, probably days as fast as he was declining. I spent the afternoon with him yesterday and went home to sleep. I wasn't with him when he died. My sister was... she knew it was happening and didn't call me to wake me up to come be with him when he passed. 

As a matter of fact, she posted it on Facebook before she called me around 1:30 this morning. 

I wasn't with him. I spent the last nine years since my mother died taking care of him, and my sister stole my final moments with him, my goodbye, for reasons I don't know. He'd already been gone for about an hour when I finally got to him. The warmth was already gone from his body. 

I wasn't there. And he left. 

She had no right to steal those moments for herself. 

I'm hurt, I'm angry... I can't grieve yet because I haven't been able to accept yet that I wasn't there when he went. I wasn't with him for his final breath. 

I'm numb. I'm humbled by the outpouring of love and support I've received today. I'm tired. I'm so, so damn tired but I don't want to sleep. 

Maybe it was purposeful. Maybe he couldn't, wouldn't, let go while I was with him. I can understand that. I'm his baby. I was the youngest and I was... hell, I was his favorite. He told me that. Between me and my sister, he loved me best. My sister knew that. Maybe that's why she stole that final moment from me. I can let her have that, I suppose. Because in the end, I was the one who was always, always there for him no matter what. 

Whatever... that's not really what's important, is it? I'm 47 but I feel like a child right now. I have no parents now. 

He was there for me every single day of my life, no matter what, no matter when, no matter how. If I needed something, my father was there. He never, ever let me down. 

Amazing man. Simply amazing. I don't have the words yet to describe the incredible things my dad did. 

He made me. He loved me. Unconditionally. He was my hero. 

I just can't accept that he's gone. Not yet. It doesn't feel real yet. Tears come in fits but I've not be able to just... break down like I know I need to. My job is done. I was the caretaker. What comes next is all on my family. I had the responsibilities before death. After is theirs. 

I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. Spent the afternoon and evening with my family. There is no funeral to plan. We don't do that in my family. He will be cremated and his ashes scattered in several beautiful places of his choosing, places where we scattered Mom's ashes, and my brother's. In a couple of weeks there will be a going-away party. I'll be consulted, but I won't do the planning. I suggested the place, the rest is up to them. 

So I've got nothing to do. It's been less than 24 hours and I have nothing to do. I didn't get to say goodbye, and thank you, and I love you, and now I have nothing to do. I should be doing something. I don't know what. 

Sleeping, probably. My brothers are at the hotel bar, toasting Dad with the finest Kentucky bourbons. My nieces and nephews are taking the rare opportunity to hit the bars together. My sister is pouting because we're not all sitting at her house in our mourning clothes consoling her.

And I'm just sitting here, mindlessly typing, listening to my phone chirping across the room with more condolences. 

I'm not religious. I'm not an atheist but I'm not really spiritual, either. I'm agnostic. I have no idea what happens after we die. More than anything, I'm hoping that there is something, and somewhere my mom and dad are together again, finally, continuing their storybook love affair. 

I'm surrounded by confirmation biases everywhere I look. Everything is a sign. When I was driving home early this morning, a streetlamp burned out. I took that as Dad saying goodbye. When Mom passed away, the power went out during her going-away party while Dad and I sobbed watching a slideshow of photos of her. I took that as her telling us to stop crying and start laughing. When I got home today, my power had gone out. I want to believe it was her and Dad, together, goofing around and letting me know everything was okay.

When I was a little girl, Daddy and I danced a lot. He was a jazz musician... a sax player. He loved Sinatra and when we'd dance, me standing on his feet as we swung us around the room, he'd often sing this song, our song. He'd change the lyrics every time to make me laugh... "the way you blow your nose, the way you twinkle your toes..." Nonsense lyrics, never made sense, never mattered... the laughter and giggles mattered.

No, no... they can't take that away from me.
 
I love you, Daddy. Forever and always, every second, every moment between the seconds. You were, and are, my everything. 

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Random Naked Guys

So there I was last night, standing around my half-empty house (I just can't get motivated to finish it!), looking glamorous as fuck, when some dude shows up.
Did I mention he was naked? Because he was. As a jaybird. Stark naked.

Wait, let me back up a little bit...
A few weeks ago I met a woman at the Chamber and we started chatting (about this blog, actually) and she pointed out to me that it's super easy to find my house from my profile (no, don't bother looking... I've changed it now) because all the picks in my profile were taken at my house, and I'd not bothered changing the location because... I don't know. Laziness, I guess.

I didn't think much of it and didn't do anything at the time but I started thinking about it and wondered just how often random people plop down on my land. I have an old security thingie from back when I had the club so I pulled it out of my inventory and set it up just so I could see.
I really need to buy a dining room set.
I've had a few problems with interlopers before, nothing major other than that one chick a few years ago who set up a big hideously hot pink skybox when I wasn't looking and a couple random guys who built some small hills for some reason. I don't live on the mainland so it's really pretty rare for people to just show up.

Anyhoo, I set up the security thingie, and sure enough I had a few visitors over the week or so that I was watching. No biggie. I banned them after they were gone and thought nothing of it. It never happened while I was actually there and it wasn't enough people to freak me out or anything like that.
Now, let's pick up our story from last night and the naked guy who TPed in while I was actually there.

I'm not saying he was a bad looking guy or anything... he wasn't. If I saw him out somewhere I'd probably have been interested. His profile seemed perfectly normal.

So I asked him why he was wandering around my land. Oh, here, let me just post the entire conversation.

Beth Macbain: Why are you wandering around my land naked?
Naked Guy: it seemed like a logical thing to do, though from your perspective, perhaps not
Beth Macbain: Correct, it's not.
Naked Guy: is it the wandering around on your land, or the naked part that is at issue?  both?
Beth Macbain: The wandering around.
Naked Guy: fair enough...you seem different in your blog, but no worries.  Take care.
Beth Macbain: /me laughs... how so?
Beth Macbain: Do I know you?
Naked Guy: No.  You just seem like the kind of girl who might be intrigued by a random stranger.
Naked Guy: It's fine.  It's not the first time I've gotten the wrong impression.
Naked Guy: And considering my tastes, it won't be the last.
Beth Macbain: Intrigued by a random stranger in a club? Yes, absolutely. In my private space? Not so much.
Naked Guy: Fair enough...I'm more a private space type of person, so not a good fit.

And that was it. He TPed away and I closed the chat window.

And I'm left wondering... did he think I was just going to go "Oh, hey, a naked guy!" and fuck him? Is that the impression I give off here on this little blog?

Let's just get this straight - I'm no more turned on by random naked guys showing up at my house in SL than I would be by some random naked guy showing up at my house in RL.

Though I'm not going to arm myself with a pair of potentially emasculating gardening shears and call the police like I would in RL if that happened, it's still a fucking creepy thing to do, virtual world or not.
I mean, seriously, who thinks that's a good thing to do? Just drop in sans pants and think that a woman is going to be so impressed she's just going to spread her legs and invite him to fuck, or have a cup of coffee, or whatever?

That is my space. My private space.

Was it stupid of me to have it in my picks? Yes, it was. I just like to think people are better than that and I hate it when I'm wrong and people really are dumbasses like that. TP from one of my picks now and you'll literally end up in the middle of nowhere. Thanks, Random Naked Guy, for chiseling away just a tiny bit more of my faith in humanity. Good job!

There are a few men who I invite to my place. It's a very small number. There are plenty of places to fuck in Second Life without inviting every Tom, Dick and Harry to mine. Those men who I invite are special. Yes, you can fuck on nearly every surface of my house... it's set up for fucking, and those men are the ones I know are, er, up to my standards, as snobby as that sounds.
Wait, no, that's not snobby... IT'S MY FUCKING HOUSE.

If I'm walking down the street past people's houses, I don't just unlatch their gate and walk right the fuck in. A person's home is sacred, whether it's real or virtual. What happened to manners? And common sense? And not fucking disrespecting other people's property? There are some things you just don't do, for Christ's sake

It's not just a place to fuck... it's the place I relax. I like my place. It has goats.

It's where I change clothes and try on hundreds of demos. Half the time I'm wandering around with no hair, "demo" stamped across my face from the makeup I'm trying out, testing new animations, moving shit around, or taking photos.
I'm not often lying on my bed naked waiting for someone to show up and fuck me... and if I am, it's because I'm expecting one of those rare men that I've invited.

I just wanted to clear that up in case my blog does give off the impression that I'm open to Random Naked Guys just showing up thinking I'm going to fuck them.

I'm absolutely not.
Mixed messages? What? Nope.



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