Hey y’all, and happy Sunday. What a week it’s been. Plagued last week with the flu, it took 10 days before the nasty beast finally made its way out of the house, and its aftermath still lingers.
I’ve got a book that I need to get finished tomorrow. Yet the more I write, the more I want to add, and I’m on this downward spiral where I’m just creating more work that I don’t have time to do. I’m still catching up on deadlines, have a pending assignment due this week that’s rather large and I haven’t even started it (gasp!). And I’m teaching a class this coming Friday that I haven’t prepped for at all.
But I’m not complaining. This is the life of a writer and exactly what I wanted.
This image was booted off my facebook this week after being reported inappropriate. Since I can’t share it there, I’ll do it here. It’s sexy as fuck, right? I stole this off of Google, so my apologies for no credit. Don’t sue me. Please.
An Identity Clash of Sorts
M and I were having a conversation about a situation with a family member who posted on Facebook about how great a night she had with her family, when in reality, we knew it wasn’t a great night at all. It was horrible. There were tears and temper tantrums involved. And that was from the adults. I said something along the lines of how fake people are on social media, and then started laughing, as I was in the process of accessing one of my own Caitlyn McConnell accounts, technically a fake account for a fake person that doesn’t even exist (Shh… Don’t tell Facebook that).
And I thought, “What a fucking hypocrite you are, Cait.”
Between Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, I’m officially spending more time on social media as Caitlyn McConnell than as the name on my birth certificate. But you know what, I’m more me there than I am on my own account. The veil of anonymity, the ability to not give a flying fuck who I offend, and the fact that I can show my tits without the fear of my deacon father-in-law seeing it, it’s liberating. And I can say what I think, show what I do, and not be afraid of repercussions.
It’s weird, to say the least.
One of my favorite pictures from IG this week.
Sex on the Brain
For the last four days, I’ve done nothing but research sex, read about sex, write about sex, and have sex. To say I have sex on the brain is an understatement. I’ve got ideas swarming my mind, ideas for blog posts, ideas for books, for erotica. For pictures to take, videos to film. Toys to try (there’s currently an anal hook on it’s way to the McConnell house). Lingerie to buy. So fucking much sex on my brain, it’s nuts.
And totally distracting.
Speaking of lingerie, I’m looking for a place to get decent stockings. Preferably ones with seams up the back. Anyone have a company they love? Let me know in the comments.
And remember, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, and you don’t want to share them below, feel free to send me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org or hit me up on Facebook or Twitter.
Peace out y’all.
And here’s a song that’s on my mind as I dream of summer and sun.