TastyTrixie.com

Had a freaky picture that could have been entitled “Total Eclipse of the Eyes” to go with the dark moon and the solar eclipse today, but decided against posting it. Instead here I am getting light (dark?) rain on my upturned face in the backyard:

I was out there at twilight, too. Deadheading pansies, just sniffing around . . . really happy to be home letting my eyes adjust in real time to dark falling. Heard a woman’s voice on the other side of the fence in say HEY in a dominant way . . . and at the same time became aware of the sound of a large beast panting . . . like a horse-sized dog. And something like a child shrieking farther away, or maybe a shrill bird closer than that. Over and over. The panting, the stamping, the shrill sound. All mixed up together and not moving away or getting closer. The sound of the animal breathing SO CLOSE to me. If I’d have found a peephole in the fence at just the right place I don’t know what I would have seen. Maybe the fucking hound of the Baskervilles or a big black unicorn in bondage to a stout smoking neighbor lady . . . I don’t know.

I drank a wee bit tonight and felt some awesome tits and ass.

I like being here and doing different things, but mostly I want to be at home. I’m afraid my baby nasturtiums & sweet peas died in our absence during a week of sunshine.

Nasturtium start one week ago.

If you are tired, it said, it could be because you wear clothes that are too comfortable, causing you to slouch and not breath right and not get oxygen all through your you.  If you are tired, it said, it could be because you’re wearing nice drab dark colors like black and brown and navy. If you wear bright colors it will energize you, it said!

I do like bright colors. I like them a lot. I do like drab colors and sleeping and cozy slouching a lot, too. But I also like thinking about making my neck long and healthy and flexible. Imagining my spine like a monorail and amazing oxygenated dangerous-genius power traveling up it into my brain, and my brain lighting up in a way it never did before there was a conductor on duty with the understanding and vision to run my amazing machine. My glands and my brain awash in oxygen, all of the tissue clean and healthy and rich. Thanks to recent introduction and immediate crush on Katy Bowman who doesn’t say it EXACTLY like that, but is so smart and funny and has important things to teach you that we should all know but don’t.

When I wear the tiny yellow shoes I stand up straighter. When I see my reflection of my tiny bright feet on my skinny-looking legs in super-skin-tight lime green capri pants my feet hurt but I am an electric watermelon space-station-green-super-nutritive-juice slender conduit of lady-energy. I might fall on my face, but while I lie on the ground, inside myself I will be twitching with bursts of supercharged electrical impulses, green panties lubricated with fertile goo to conduct zaps and transmit mind-melding thoughts to any steely instrument that might probe me.

I love green, pink & yellow

Inside the pink bag was the silk summer dress in thirty-nine different colors that Delia bought for me as a reward for finishing something big. Because so far there has been nothing else to show for it getting done — no immediate or even week-later payoff or measurable tangible difference to show for years of agony (not years of non-stop WORK, but certainly years of agony) except for being able to draw a line through words on a to-do list. She and Lightning Allie can see how discouraged bratty baby Trixie is so they try to think of ways to keep me from jumping into a tragic pit of self-pitying despair.

I try to imagine the difference being DONE (with the big parts of just this one thing) makes, and that pretending leads you to keep building on bullshit until it becomes real. I know that’s true for people born lucky and believing and not minding that there are five thousand other steps to fruition, I just wish results in the form of dollar signs would materialize RIGHT NOW.  But I know those dollar signs are kind of imaginary, too.

If we could pay off all of our credit cards right this second, the immediate results would be entirely in our heads. Absolutely nothing would be different in real life at that moment. And a month later when we really could do something different, it wouldn’t really be as different as what we can do now. It’s all pretty fucking absurd. Except it’s not because we’re here and I felt relaxed/relieved-of-pressure enough to work on something not-for-money slowly, exploring and learning and listening and talking as I went and we did it. And it wasn’t meant to be perfect, and that actually felt great. The truth is that I LOVE working slowly, inching along, nitpicking, meandering. I love being immersed in ideas and possibilities and questions.

*****

I also love my gelly roll pens. Got a couple of new ones and an unnaturally green bookmark with owls on it. I could spend hours contemplating and experiencing the awesomeness of sparkly ink pens and other writing implements and dorky pictures on strips of tasseled plastic. This is really all of the luxury I can handle . . . PLENTY to keep me busy, so the dollar signs results really don’t need to be gigantic once those debts are paid. I mean, I would feel pretty fucking rich to be able to buy treats like this a couple of times a month:

Barn(?) Owls in delicious poison-green pool of bright color & Gelly Roll pens from the Moonlight & Metallic lines.

Well, and massages. And art. And books books books books books books books. But you can get a lot of those at the library for zero dollars.

The bright colors I've worn this week to talk to people.

I asked Allie which side of the path she likes to look at: the north side with salt-water stretching all the way to the horizon, or the south side with layers of green things stretching up a hillside?

I always look at the side with shadows and a thousand shades of green. My eyes are overrun with quiet undemanding details and too many possibilities to even try to absorb. My brain wants to swim in the green and all of the textures. I just let it wash through me in a blur of riches.

It’s not every day or every place you get to soak in a water view so I think I should look north more, but the shine on the Strait hurts my eyes, plus I’m afraid of the vastness of all of that water.

Self-shot.

With mild headache.

Hence generic tylenol. I like the way they look. I like the way almost everything looks. I feel great.

If you haven’t figured it out already, we’re away from home. And off cam. Doing a lot of stuff, but also not feeling like I have to do so much. Feeling pretty content with what I can do. I feel calm. Having a little time alone having my own kind of fun while Delia is out having people-y kinds of fun.

*****

Some day I am going to schedule myself a Lou Reed immersion week.

Away from home (see cool photo Lightning Allie took of me talking on the phone with my sister today).

Operating on 3 hours sleep. So check out this gallery of naked pics of me on someone’s boobie blog! The comments from people expressing disgust with me and/or my body are almost incomprehensible to me. Like, I understand if I’m just not someone’s type they’re attracted to/aroused by but I totally can’t imagine looking at the person (me) in those pictures & being grossed out or wanting to say mean things about her. I think she’s pretty likeable & adorable. Comical? Yeah, I get that! But she looks like fun. If I was weird enough to not want to fuck her, I’d still totally want to hug her. I’d want her to like me. I’d be afraid people would think I was a pretty bad person if I said something mean about her.

It’s weird how reading someone’s violent reaction to my belly makes me realize how utterly absurd it is to think there’s anything “wrong” with my body.

Thank goodness for Mr. Nobody’s hilarious comment. Also funny: that my pics garnered more comments than any of the other recent posts on that blog.

Seeing regular (& even above-average-looking/physical-health) women naked or having genuine fun is just really confusing to some people. I’m glad that blogger took a chance & posted me up along with more stereotypical porn models.

That’s my crack & toes!

Past two days full of reminders of stuff I really like to do: immerse myself in a project with lots of time to work on it.

Also: lie in bed eating dark chocolate peanut butter cups while Delia walks around naked but for platform heels & white ankle socks, long legged and tan with Hawaiian Tropics dark tanning oil glistening on her big titties & dripping off her semi-hard she-cock.

Cute non-nude pic of Delia tightening up the laces on her skirt.

Not exactly a day totally off of work, but we’ll chalk it up that way as far as nudie pics go.