Start of Something Good

Wondering what this week’s blog is about? Me too. I know I want to write about my trip to the Romantic Times Convention but who knows where this blog may go. Hell, we all know on my best blogs, I ramble so let’s put on the Allman Brothers Band and let the journey begin. (If you're too young to get it, look it up.)

As a few of you who read my blogs know, I was extremely nervous about this trip. I have met Tara Clegg and Mia Ashlinn a few times. The unknown was going to be our fourth, Lori King (Wow, does that sound naughty). I know I have talked to Lori for months, but it is still strange meeting someone for the first time. You never know if they are going to be the same person when they are standing in front of you that they are online. In the past, I have been burned by meeting someone that I talked to for years. She was totally different in person. So yep, I wanted to turn around and stay home a few times. I knew though, that in the end, Lori would be an experience I wouldn’t want to miss. So I sucked it up and left my house.

I headed down I-55 to St. Louis so that I could pick up my partner in crime, Mia Ashlinn. The drive was nice and peaceful, but that could be because I decided to rent a car, which happened to be brand spanking new so no strange rattles and the sound system was perfect for jamming to some Maroon 5. As I headed to the airport, I hit construction on the bridge across the Mississippi River. You know what that means. Yep, traffic congestion. Mia called me to let me know she had landed, and I was moments away from the airport. As I pulled up, she had no idea where she was at so I told her to just head outside, and I would find her. Then she found a sign that told her that she was by pickup 11. By now, I had passed her and was all the way down to pickup 18. I parked and told her to find me because I am evil like that. Not to mention, I would have had to leave and circle back around because Lambert Field loves their one way drives. She asked what kind of car I was driving and, me being me, I had to get out to look. Hey, don’t laugh. I knew it was a VW, just not what model it was. By the way, it was a Passat. 

I was getting ready to go and hunt for her when I looked up, and there she was standing by the passenger door. I jumped out and opened the trunk, which had my big huge honking suitcase in it. I tossed hers in next to mine and then I did the most evil thing to her. I HUGGED HER! Yes, in that moment I feared for my life. In case you didn’t know, Mia is not a hugger. 

After that, we jumped in the car and headed out. Now she landed at 4:45. That meant we were going to hit St. Louis traffic so we decided to stop and grab some grub before we hit the road. Trying to make a decision with Mia is like pulling teeth. She is a foodie so I never know what she would want to eat. I figured Bob Evans would be a decent choice. We pull in and I find out that all Bob Evans are not the same. The food was okay but not what I am used to here in my town.

Next step, in our journey is to get back on I-70 and head on to Kansas City. No problem. I chose a restaurant close to the interstate for a reason. We made sure the GPS was programmed for the hotel and off we went. I was not surprised that talking to her in person was just as comfortable as talking to her on the phone. There was nothing that was off our conversational limits. We talked about everything under the sun. I think it helped both our nerves to have a long drive to calm down. We were both anxious to get to KC. 

As most of you heard, there was icky weather for RT. Yep, May in the Midwest was showing off so I had fun driving through rain and snow and a wonderful mixture of the two. 

We pull up to the hotel and try to find parking. I drive into the parking garage and took the first turn and then saw several signs saying that it had reserved parking. I looked where I pulled in and no signs. So I said Fuck it and parked. Now came the fun part— pulling all our stuff out of the car to drag into the hotel. We decided on just the necessities. You know, our suitcases and laptops.

We headed to the front desk, and I started to get us registered when the man told me we had one king sized bed and a roll away. I looked at him like he had grown a second head. I told him I had reserved the room months in advance and had requested two double beds. He said that people had stayed longer so that room was not available. Can you say I was not happy? I told him I wanted on the list for the next days first available double room.  I figured that with just me and Mia, we could share the king bed no problem. 

We headed up and dropped our crap in the room. We sat for a few moments then decided to get the lay of the land. We went down to look around and found some swag tables and the lobby was hoppin. We went down there to look around, and I saw JENN LEBLANC!!! She was so cute in her pj’s. I was going to go say hi when she headed to the restroom. I wanted to wait outside till she came out, but Mia said it was creepy. The bitch. I wanted to wait so I wouldn’t have to approach her while she was with a group. I didn’t know anyone else in her group so it was more comfortable for me to catch her alone. But since Mia said no, we headed on back to the room. When we were safely ensconced in the room, we changed into our pj’s  and then sat there for over an hour, probably more like two or three, winding down and getting ready for meeting strangers.

I think I have rambled on enough for one blog so I am going to make this a two (or three) part blog. So look for more details next week. And on Mia’s blog.

Sinfully Sarcastic,

Shmuttmeister

Cheez - Whiz By Mia Ashlinn

Hiya Pervs! It’s me, Mia, and I’m here to… Wait! Don’t run. Please. I promise I’m not going to do or say anything too crazy. Actually, I’m not going to be crazy at all—well, um, not really. I’m going to be a very, very virtuous girl, practically an angel. If you don’t believe me, well, just take a gander at this (points to shiny gold ring around head). I have a halo to prove it.

Now I know my being on good behavior is hard for some of you to believe. (adjusts halo to hide the devil horns) And I also know that I will probably struggle with the whole sweet and innocent bit. After all, I’m not exactly known for being a ‘good girl.’ Hell, I practically choked on my drink when I typed the words. But I want to take a minute to say some things to my fellow pervs that I would normally be hesitant to say.

Ah, who am I kidding? Even if I said what I wanted to in a normal, every-day setting, my version of sappy is too bloody long-winded to fit anywhere. And our leaders Tina and Luna would kick me from here to kingdom come if I wrote a long, drawn-out, uber-cheesy novel and posted it in the group. Frankly, they’d kick my butt for lots of reasons. I think they enjoy it. But Shhh! Let’s not tell them what I suspect.

Alrighty then…Let’s get to it before you lose me to blog ADD.

Last week, I went to the Romantic Times convention. While I was in Kansas City, I spent some time with several of our pervs. Yes, you know who you are. And if people hunt me down and maim me for this blog, I’m personally blaming you. Then I’m sending them for you. So lock your doors and sleep with one eye open.

Anywhoo...This convention brought home some truths to me. What, you ask?

Well…First of all, the trip reminded me that there are other people out there like me. (gasps) I know. Pervs do exist, ones that aren’t like the creepers on Criminal Minds and Law & Order: Criminal Intent. Now I talk to you guys pretty much every day. Still though, talking is not the same as seeing. I kind of wish it was because I feel bonded to all of you. And I’m sorry for that. LOL. But it’s the truth. I feel like I know each and every one of you. Because of that connection, I’ve come to love you guys. Again, I’m sorry for that. So being allowed to hang out with—one, two, or sixty-nine of—you is like a gift. Granted it’s a funny, naughty, and crazy gift. But it’s a gift no less.

Secondly, the trip brought me closer to those pervs who I don’t know as well, the ones who are probably afraid to talk to me. Cue the evil laughter. Okay, in all seriousness, they are not intimidated by me. I’m intimidated by them. Please ignore my red face. I find these pervs absolutely enchanting and fascinating, but I haven’t been brave enough to talk to them as much as I would like. Ergo, I took this trip as an opportunity to chat it up with those RPers. Let me tell you, they were fabulous. And truthfully, I would now love to talk to them…and talk to them…and talk to them—until they gag me. If I’m lucky, they might tie me up, too.

Damn it, there went my halo. Hehehe. I told you it would be hard.

And third, the trip was a chance to let my freak flag fly with my friends. Now, for me, that is a rarity at best. I don’t have a lot of friends at home who are okay with talking about sex. Seriously, they think ‘missionary’ only means someone who goes on a trip to aid underprivileged countries. While that type of a mission is beautiful and wonderful and 110% respectable, that is not always what I’m referring to when I say ‘missionary.’ But their vanilla-ness is extends far beyond than that. I, literally, have friends who would probably have me committed to a sex addict program if they had a clue what I write. And crap, if they knew the things I like in the boudoir, I would be shunned for eternity.

When I’m with you guys, this isn’t the case. I know that I can say what I want, and you will love me unconditionally. Half of you would probably be egging me on. Mmmhmm, you would, and you know it! For a somewhat (previously) sheltered woman, that is priceless.

Finally, I have to say it. You knew I would. The trip gave me a chance to be trapped alone with our leader and my P.I.A. Tina. Yep, that was…interesting. Bwahaha! Talk about an understatement. We talked about things that still make me blush. But our discussions and my subsequent embarrassment is neither here nor there. Spending time with Tina always teaches me a lot about friendship and loyalty, which of course also leads me back to you guys.

So now, we’re heading into the Cheez-Whiz territory…Watch out for puddles.

Unconditional friendship is not something I’ve experienced a lot in my life. I’ve always been what people wanted, what they expected, and that never made me happy. Hell, it made me miserable because I wasn’t meant to be a white sheep. I’m that one lone black one in a flock of white ones. But I always felt compelled to cover myself with paint to hide who and what I was. Let me tell you, there’s not enough paint in the world to cover up this black wool. But when I’m with you guys—whether online, on the phone, or in person—I don’t have to be something I’m not. I can prance around in whatever color I want to be. Red, white, black, pink polka dots, it doesn’t matter. You guys still accept me.

Before I became a part of this group, I didn’t realize how much I needed acceptance. True, I have friends, but the ocean between us is wide. Being around people who don’t make me comfortable, people who constantly judge me, brings my walls down and locks the stinking gate. For a long time, I was okay with feeling constantly lonely, even when I was surrounded by a sea of friends. But I’m not anymore. I need to have people in my life who I can be myself around. I need to know that I have people who support me, people who can laugh with me and at me. Maybe I’m just a needy person. Maybe not. But the fact is, I need you guys.

 So thank you. Thank you for being there. Thank you for supporting me every day for the past twenty-one-and-a-half months. Thank you for being who you are. And thank you for letting me be me and loving me in spite of my issues—all of them.

All my love,

-Mia