High Shine

This past weekend the girl and I got to schmooze with some movers and shakers. There’s a great project that I’m a part of called

“We Are Leather Women” the photographer Carmella put together an event  of brunch and then we all went to Cinkink to view a documentary High Shine 15 years of IMsLBB. The International Ms. Leather and Book Black is a contest out of California that goes on during the International Ms. Leather contest. During brunch, we go to meet a lot of the bootblacks in the doc. Bootblacks came from all over Philly, Atlanta, Chicago and Cali as well  as the NY bootblacks. We even had a few of our brethren title holder come out to support. It was good to see some people I haven’t seen for a long while. The conversation was as great as the food and it was well worth getting up to leave the house at 7:30 am. The girl was charming as usual and it was good to see her strike up conversations with people she didn’t know and learning about what they do in the community. It was important since there hasn’t been anything like this in NY for a good long time. I love bootblack and this was the right kind of encouragement the girl needed. Hearing from other people that because she is legally blind she could never hope to care for leathers. Screw that noise!

Screw that noise!

It was also nice to see Kardia mingle with folks as well, I’m glad she didn’t run away last year, if she had we would have lost a friend and our family wouldn’t have a bootblack of our own.

After brunch, we all headed over to the theatre for the screening. It was a great history lesson on bootblack and female bootblacks, in particular. After the showing, we had a lovely walk back to the train station and had a lovely Saturday evening dredged having to go to MAsT Sunday. But we were up bright and early for that. The day was long, but I’m glad we went the girl had more than a mouth full to say. There was a young lady who really needed help and as per our MAsT group the slaves rallied. That’s what is so important about groups like MAsT, it’s not about learning a skill of throwing a whip but the skill of how we live our M/s.

As with every Monday for us introverts after  MAsT we both were fired.It  snowed the night before and the girl was out of smokes, so I went out to get her some and check on just how much snow was still on the ground. The sidewalks were clear, but the streets and curbs were treacherous. Making the decision for the girl to stay in, she reminded me that laundry had to be done. That was vetoed along with getting wine or other necessities.

When I got home at 8pm I did my usual which is, wait by the door for the girl to take my coat. Nothing, I realized that she was sleeping it had been a long weekend and although I could smell candles I knew she did her chores in the house and  needed rest.

Poor baby girl.

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The C word

These past months have taught me a few things about myself that I already knew. One thing particular is how I communicate, I don’t do well when people talk over each other nor do I do well when I’m continuous interrupted. I’m not saying that I can’t understand whats being said I just have a hard time focusing.I’m told that this is the way women communicate. Some might say and by some I mean me it’s alright because I can at least pick up on the important parts of the conversation. But for me the whole conversation is important. Which begs the question, which parts are important to whom? I may not think it’s important not to let my mind wander while listening to someone to go on about how they felt about a situation, but will be very interested in when they get to the part of how they are going to handle the situation. I’m told I communicate the way men do, this being the case because I was socialized around boys and men.

I’m old enough to have developed tricks when it comes to communication. And when it comes to women I’ve learned albeit difficult to focus on the whole thing. Did I mention it’s difficult? I’ve also been known to jot down some points, or with their permission to record it always letting them know that I’m doing this for my benefit.

One thing no one ever talks about when it comes to communication is the listening part. And along with listening believing that what the person is saying is true for them. People have a thing for trying to change your mind, to challenge your truth. Don’t let them, even if you are a pleaser of people, even if like me you believe somethings are about compromising. Compromising is good as long as you’re not getting the shitty end of it all the time and as long as you can live with the compromise.

I’ve been looking back at how I communicate, the girl says at times I communicate abstractively  (if that makes sense?) And I do with women, I believe this is because when I communicate as “men” do, I’m accused of being harsh or rude,un-feeling. which is not my intention. With women I had to learn to soften my voice which is feet in its self since my voice is a bit deep in nature, take a moment to think about how something is going to sound. All of this gets exhausting, and I default to not saying anything at all. Which at times is not good, I’m an introvert, I’m in my head a lot so yeah, it gets crowded in there.

Most recently I’ve been doubting if I am communicating my needs, wants and desires. And I have, I just think that maybe people were not listening. Granted the English language is the bastard child of languages so it’s no wonder it can be difficult to communicate , but we keep at it.

I for one started to believe I was in a scene from the Princess Bride.

Master of all I survey

I pick the girl from the airport tomorrow; it’s been a long week apart I have to admit it took some adjustment for me. She made sure I had food in the freezer which was good; the down side was I should have read the label. That way I would not have had delouses sauce for lunch one day. Her sauce is good but it would have been even better with the lasagna she made or the noodles she left.

But I digress.

Yes she comes home and finally I will get a good night sleep, even though our nightly ritual, yep ritual is that we have deep conversations in bed. I’ll be laying there trying to sleep and she’ll ask “do you think we make our own destiny?” yep deep. I’ve made it so we go to be an hour before I’d like to because I know she’s going to want to discuss a number of things. The meaning of life, how a woman’s uterus is connected to mother earth which is in turn connected to the universal Goddess, why the sky is blue? You know all the things we could have been discussing the five or six hours since I’ve been home from work, the wonders of bed time small talk. Believe it or not this is small talk for us.

But yet again I digress.

Since she’s been gone I have given some thought about our dynamic, I’m truly blessed to have a few masters female and male as well as some slave types in my life that I can talk to. And by talk I mean talk, not the superficial shit most talk about and call deep and meaningful, that would lead them to believe they truly know you. When these people ask me” how I’m doing?” They really want to know, how I’m doing? I’ve been able to share with them some things that I haven’t worked out in my head yet and thank the Goddess I have them .I’m able to share my shit, and trust that if my shit is stinking they will call me on it, and we will still be friends(inside joke). Sharing how I was feeling about the girl going back to FL and not having control over how she would be protected from some folks there had me more nervous than a whore in church. No offense to whores, but true to form my friends put me in check. It was about control for me and it was. I can freely and you are admit that, but what I really need to focus on was, is it about me having some kind of savior complex? Hell I’ve never thought of myself as the savior type, when I was younger I had to save myself, so I had no time to try to save others. As I got older I tried to be the example of what saving oneself could be, I could point to the path I took. I wasn’t interested in dragging someone off their path no matter what it was to a path I thought they should take. Grated it might have saved them some pain, but it’s their path, their journey as it were. When they are ready to take it the only thing I could do is be there to give them a hug when they arrive. In that way we are responsible for making our own destiny. I guess I didn’t digress it was the circle of life, and all.

Last night I stayed up far too late giving this more thought after all I am the *“T” in our relationship where she is the “F”. We balance really nicely together, she reminds me to “F”eel, while I remind her to “T”hink.  So I’m up thinking about this, not really paying attention to the TV. When I did start to pay attention I realize there’s a documentary on about Sylvia Plath, because nothing brings more joy into deep though like a documentary about Sylvia Plath. The upside, yes there was an upside at least for me was that it got me to stop thinking about if I had a savior complex. When it was done at 1am I had a clear head and I came to the conclusion that I don’t have a savior complex, I have what I’ve always had even as a child, right is right, wrong is wrong complex.(which my mother called me being too sensitive, but that’s another post). I have a I hate bullies complex, an if you have to tear someone down to prop yourself and your self-esteem up and you feel you need to manifest that towards someone I care about I’m going to kick your ass complex. Don’t get me wrong, the girl has taken care of herself and I’m so proud of her for doing what she needs to do for herself. Her taking care of herself is in part serving me its part of our agreement. But I also know that some shit would not go down if we were there together. See that’s how some bullies work in this “community”, they do shit under the cover of a leather hat, or behind a title of “alpha slave.”

**Updated to add this enjoy**

But again I digress,

I pick the girl up tomorrow but for today I have to continue the tweaking I’ve started, since she’s been gone. I also should wash the dishes and make the bed, pick up my dirty socks from the floor and fix up the chaise lounge. Or I could just continue to sit here and search Pinterst while continuing my craft project only to add more pieces of paper to the floor?

After all I am the master of all I survey in our one bedroom Bronx apartment. LOL

*My personality type (which my job spent a large amount of money to access) is INTJ.

While the girl’s personality type is INFJ

Myers-Briggs type indicator