#365Gratitude Day 238: The Clitoris

Not the actual clitoris.  (Although those are really, truly great.)

I'm talking about the website, the-clitoris.com.  (NSFW, but not gratuitously so.)

I stumbled across it this morning, doing some research for my new book, A Little Patch of Sunshine.  I'm at a part of the book where the main character, Sunny, who's from a very conservative family, is just starting to really sexually awaken.  She's a bit of a late bloomer in her late teens, and while she has masturbated, she doesn't really know what she's doing, yet.  

Thankfully, she's got someone she can trust to help her learn all about it.

I'm thankful too - I've got friends helping me write this book who talk to me all the time about their own sexuality, history, and life experience.  This is good, because writing from the perspective of a teenage girl is pretty tough when you have never been one.  I get by with a little help from my friends.

But sometimes I do need additional resources.  So this morning I went looking for, and found, the clitoris.  I was looking for sites about how to talk to teens about masturbation (of which there are many, of varying degrees of quality).  On a parenting messaging board I found the following post:

Re: Explaining masterbation to my daughter
Mon Oct 20, 2008 4:31 pm

Show her to www.the-clitoris.com great personal stories from people of all ages, she won't feel embarrassed ands its sensitively done :

Now the girl in question that needs masturbation explained to her is a fictional character, but she is a sensitive sort, and easily embarrassed, so this looked like it was just what I needed.  I checked it out.

It's amazing.  There's so much good information there, for anyone and everyone.  I've known for years now that the vagina is just really one part of the vulva, which is really the right word for "the whole business down there."  But I didn't pay much attention to or know much about the vestibule.

I love that in learning information to teach a character, I'm learning, too.

Just because: bondage for beginners

I'm just gonna leave this nice little video here for you about why someone would event want to do bondage in the first place.  I love Dr. Jenn, she's a great sex educator.

#365Gratitude Day 237: Before sunrise

I'm an early riser.  My alarm goes off at 5am, and I'm usually up a little before it anyhow.  This morning I'm doing some writing before sunrise, which is at 6:30.  Then I'll quickly get dressed to go running, and do a 45 minute or so workout, before I come back, shower, and get on my way to work.

That's a lot of stuff to do before my workday begins.

But I love it.  I love that my job is the third big thing I'll do today.  Don't get me wrong - I love what I do.  But I love that it's not all that I do.  

Anyhow, I love being up now, when the day is new, filled with promise.  I feel wealthy with energy, time, options, passion.  I love the contrast between how it's dark and quiet outside, but inside my brain is seething, hissing, and popping like a hot pan ready to cook up new things.

I love that contrast, and those feelings.

GOOD MORNING!

#365Gratitude Day 236: Wine before breakfast

Every morning, my cats lovingly, sweetly, but not very gently remind me that their breakfast is how I'm supposed to start the day.

I actually love this.  As I sit on my bed, putting on my socks, Yang will stare lovingly into my eyes, and butt his head against me.  I tend to anthropomorphize the things my cats do, so to me he's saying, "I love you so much Mako.  Remember, no one loves you more than me (when I'm hungry and want cat food.)"

Yin's approach is different.  She sits close by, but just out of reach.  Every time I do something (like brush my teeth, or get up to take off my pajamas), she's ready to remind me that feeding them SHOULD be the very next item on my short list.

If I make a move to leave the bedroom, they rush to the stairs, excited to follow me downstairs, to the kitchen.  When I don't go down the steps, they come back up, their tails and ears low, a little sheepish.  "All right Mako, good one.  You got us, again!  Let's all have a good laugh about it together, maybe over some wet cat food?"

I have owned these cats since they were 10 days old, and now they're over 10 years old.  We have done this little dance with each other just about every day since then, thousands of times.

It never gets old.

#365Gratitude Day 235: The instruments of my inspiration

I love instrumental music, especially soundtracks.  

I often run and write to them.  I like the way they carry me away, emotionally.  They just work their way into my head and do things to me.  Lately, I've had a few stuck in my head.  You're about to get them in your head, too.  

First, there's Johan Johansson.  I am not quite sure how or when I found his album and in the Endless Pause There Came the Sound of Bees, and particularly this song, Theme, but I'm sure glad I did.

Johansson's work utterly destroys me.  Often when I listen to it I just cry.  There's something haunting, melancholy, beautiful and devastating about it.

The other day, on a whim I started watching Star Trek: The Animated Series on Netflix.  It's surprisingly good.  The very best part of it is the soundtrack.  It's spectacular!  I stumbled across a YouTube video with lots of the music from the show in it.  I particularly like the bit that starts around 7:40 and goes to 8:30.  I can't put my finger on exactly what it is about this music, but it is stirring!  I feel like I'm in an action movie about my own life listening to it.

Lastly there's this oddball soundtrack that's a disco concept album of The War of the Worlds.  Yes, I know, it sounds like a ridiculous idea.  (And strictly speaking, it's not instrumental music, at least not all of it.)  But it's amazing.  A musician named Jeff Wayne recorded it back in 1978. There's one song in particular that really, really pumps me up when I hear it, Thunder Child.

When I feel the creative urge hit, I'll put stuff like this on, and it fans a tiny spark of inspiration into a roaring flame.  I love this stuff.