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Monday, 9/6/2010: Day 4

This is the day I moved a vibrator into the cabin.

Post-orgasm with the vibrator I brought to the cabin.

I still haven’t taken a nap here but now I’ve broken in the loft with masturbation and orgasms. There’s no internet access here (a good, preferable, integral thing to this whole cabin experience) and I don’t have any dirty books here, so I was very limited in terms of porn to accompany my vibrator time. I’ve only downloaded three videos (not counting that Gossip Girl episode) to this laptop and those were all for research purposes just to gauge their quality so out of those I chose to masturbate to a teaser video Delia made last year.

I skipped through the parts I’m in to get to the real meat of the thing/away from visions of myself. I wanted to come to her Twin Peaks-y schoolgirl-in-plaid-skirt-and-white-panties thing, but  it’s hard to time things just right with a short compilation video like that meant merely to entice. I’m a chick with a vibrator though, so I got off on it three times. It makes me extra excited, actually, and I come faster when I’m “afraid” that the part I like is going to end REALLY FAST . . . when I know my favorite parts are limited. I didn’t time it properly the first time and wound up climaxing as she was eating her cum on the donut (totally NOT what I want to orgasm to, though I love directing her to eat it), but I did better the other times.

I also wrote an outline and some notes for a short story. I might have done some other stuff, too.

You can check out other people’s “Half Nekkid Thursday” pics for this week here (links are in the comments). If you like truly amateur / non-porn-pro stuff, you should definitely check it out.

9/5/2010 Cabin Day #3: word count: 955

The girl in the big house has a dog. A big dog I was afraid of when I first saw her and didn’t know who she was or why she was there, giving me a low woof. My heart started pounding and I hid around the corner from my own cabin door on the deck, wondering what to do. Because I’m afraid of dogs even if they have friendly benign-looking spots.

But everything’s okay now; I learned her name and already love her and am happy she’ll be here. I miss our dog and it felt so solid to pet this big new girl.

Don't want to turn on the heat yet so wearing thick hoody.

*****

I feel weird and self-conscious about the fix-it man and the girl in the big house knowing that I’m not actually LIVING in the cabin, but coming here to write. It sounds so fucking pretentious, but these people are nice so they are respectful, trying to make genuine curiosity as non-invasive and supportive as possible.  This town is full of  “artists” and other people who are totally full of shit, fanciful dreams, and beliefs in astrology and revolution. I’m not fully committed to being one of them, and every single position on the spectrum of fancies-herself-a-writer is an embarrassing place to be seen. Even with this cabin I’m nowhere near invisible.

9/4/2010 Cabin Day #2: Word Count: 3203

Before leaving home, I discovered voicemail from fix-it dude left last night. He called again as I was heading out the door. Very considerate, but I can’t think of a good time for him to come over to fix the shower so I say in an hour. This day is scratched because no matter how considerate anyone is, it is still an interruption or two or three. Four if you count having to talk on the phone. Should I wait for him to get here before I poop or hurry and try to push it out now and hope he doesn’t arrive mid-dump or soon thereafter (you can see and smell ALL in this cabin; the toilet‘s only 27% private)?

When will he be back to caulk it after assessing the job? Should I try to start working or wait for him to get back, finish, and be gone? Should I eat my potato salad or wait? Because you know I hate being interrupted when I’m eating or working; interruptions are diametrically opposed to The Purpose of The Cabin, at least on day two they are. And oops . . . What about the tools he left?

Point is, I still haven’t been naked in the cabin OR taken a nap!!!

Anyway, that whole business spanned the morning hours, including a field trip to the art store while I waited for him. I bought some soft colored pencils and black paper and got a mini-headache from some obnoxious twat wearing way too much perfume. I could’ve bought the electric skillet I want with that money but I decided colors are more in keeping with The Purpose of The Cabin than a skillet.

I started to draw some imaginary marsh plants (aka grass) in the back of the black sketchbook (I don’t want to ruin the front pages with my first “colour pencil” drawings) but it looked way better than I thought it would so I stopped because I was afraid I would ruin it. Instead I moved on to color a big girly I-Love-You heart for Delia while the fix-it guy caulked.

After he left I made Russian Caravan tea to sip with my potato salad (which the new guy at the store forgot to ring up so I got it for free, guiltlessly because I didn’t even notice his mistake until hours later) and another luna bar while watching an episode (The Grandfather) of Gossip Girl on my laptop, the only tv show we ever bought online to watch on the computer. This thing is so weak, though, that the video is all choppy. I only watched half. I wish I had a grey blazer like Chuck’s with a baby pink bowtie over a grey and white striped shirt. I’m too small and short to get suits off the rack, and even if I could afford Bass-like ensembles I’d wear them in a filthy wrinkled way. The cabin doesn’t have a spot to hang up long clothes and I’m glad. I haven’t showered in a week. I think I’m going to wait until this caulk cures and shower here, at the cabin, because it’s way nicer than our shower at home.

I know, Gossip Girl probably seems as diametrically opposed to The Purpose of The Cabin as fix-it man interruptions are, but I colored a fat junior-high heart for my girlfriend and have a book in here called “Tarot: Mirror to the Soul” (which I love in an almost totally non-ironic way) so maybe I’m not as earthy and/or sophisticated as you think I am.

It wasn’t my plan to stay at the cabin so many hours at a stretch, but I think I need to break it in real good before I can expect to accomplish anything. If things don’t work out tomorrow I’m going to work on my Chuck Bass impersonations and experiment with the toaster oven (I’ve never had/used one before).

I wonder if there’s any dream-come-true that doesn’t involve intellectually regressing to age ten?

9/3/2010 Cabin Day #1: 0 (zero) words

Loading stuff up in the van to take to the cabin I worried that the neighbors would think I was moving out and leaving Delia. Maybe that worry was just a projection of my own discomfort over making time alone/away a priority. Because there aren’t good models affirming pursuing time alone away from home unless it’s to do regular work that regular people do in the midst of whole bunches of other regular people. People who desire as much time alone as I do are widely regarded as unhealthy freaks or suspected of having other motives besides a simple need for solitude. Whatever the reason, I wanted to keep running back inside to hug Delia and get reassurance that whatever I‘m doing it‘s not what it might look like to the neighbors.

*****

At the cabin the wind blew and I wondered how come the skinny tall trees here don’t fall down. I amazed myself by not being annoyed that there’s a daycare with kid sounds a block away. I felt the sun on the back of my neck. I gazed at the crescent moon with breakfast around noon. I scratched up my arm and the back of my thigh on blackberry bush thorns. I figured out where I can stand and lie in the cabin with the blinds open without being seen by the girl in the big house or the people next door. I made a note to buy a couple of curtains to further hide myself when desired in those couple of places where I can be seen. I caught up on all of the pooping I didn’t get done while we were away from home for three nights.

I started to stop thinking about how to get down the ladder from the loft  (how do I mount it under the slant of roof? Do I turn around and climb it back down or just walk straight forward like I’m going down stairs?). I lit a candle. Then I blew it out when we left to get gas, but only $15 worth because we’re almost out of money until Tuesday so we didn’t reset the mileage on the odometer because our fuel gauge is broken/stuck on full.

*****

Things didn’t go exactly as planned, meaning I didn’t have time to plan to make things perfectly prepared.

Want to read more about Day One at The Cabin? I’m hiding the minute details after a break so as not to bore or overwhelm folks who don’t want to read about my zero word count day:

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