Swimming with the Seals: Playful Critters Seeking Playmates
It was a sun-drenched summer day, hot and steamy, with the air clinging to my clothes and skin. Sensual, if you let it be. Unusual for La Jolla. Makes you want to wear less, which isn’t a bad thing, depending on who you’re with. The water temperature was hitting 74. It doesn’t sound warm, I know, but you have to understand that the usual temperature is 68-ish or less. It makes a big difference. The smell of Banana Boat and hot, salty skin tinged the air. This was the perfect setting for our weekend getaway. I moved through the water feeling it enclose my body, step-by-step, the water beckoning, promising great play and relaxation. It was a clear blue with great visibility. Sea plants tickled my legs. Bright orange Garibaldi darted away in a school of five or six. I began gently, softly propelling myself with the lovely ebb and flow of the ocean’s tides, taking long strokes through the water, just to get out a bit. Floating on the surface, feeling the warmth and comfort of the buoyant salt water rocking me on its small waves and surges was always pleasurable. I started as an observer, watching the wildlife, the rhythms of the fish, how they swim, how they move. What do they do? Where do they go? Why does it do that? Plant life swayed gracefully, playing peekaboo with its residents. Big fat fish, long skinny fish. What is that electric blue creature that is so tiny on the bottom of the ocean? Deep breath. Hold it. Surface dive to the bottom for a closer look. Oh! Tiny blue fish. It took a few tries, holding my breath isn’t my best trick, but I soon saw the progression of growth. Seeing the different sized fish swimming around, I saw the tiny blue ones soon became bigger orange ones with electric blue dots running the length of their bodies. Water swooshed by me in a flurry of movement. Large dark shapes were a blur, but instantly, I knew they were seals. From a distance away, I see them play and wrestle, much like eight week old puppies might do, diving over each other, swirling down with sudden strength and speed only to come back up and search for position in a playful game for dominance. A third seal appears, doesn’t participate, but looks on with affection. Children are children no matter the species. She swam closer to me and paused. You coming? she seemed to ask. Let’s go. I became a participant. Swam at a distance, because I gave much respect to its independent spirit, but tried to keep up. I wanted to see what it was like to move like a seal, enjoy the deep blue like a seal. She was patient with me, appreciated that I wanted to see what it was like to be part of the ocean. Seemed to enjoy my company and didn’t just dart away, teasing me. I had to kick hard to keep up, but I tried some of her cool moves, twisting and spinning casually through the water as if by will. It was exhilarating, and much too short. Being human, and not used to such activity, I had to accept my limitations and wave goodbye. Until next time, my friend....
Read MoreLet’s Get Personal! Totally Random Facts
TOTALLY RANDOM FACTS I was tagged with the task of reporting on 14 random things about myself, and thought, “Ah-ha! This could be a fun blog post.” I will share 14 random things about myself, and I extend the challenge for you to share at least one or two about yourself, if not five? We may even have randomness-es in common! Hmmmm. I love, love, love when I have a full tank of gas. It makes me want to jump on the hood of my car and shout “Freedom!” When I see big, open fields of grass, I just want to do a tumbling pass – reminds me of my youth as a gymnast. It drives me nuts to see kids driving and texting at the same time. They’re weaving all over the road trying to drive without hands or eyes. Grrrr. Can I call their moms? I’ve always loved trying new things, which is how I got into snowboarding, kickboxing, SCUBA diving and swing dancing. When I was in the 6th grade, I had a huge crush on Ricky Shroeder. I actually wrote a letter and mailed it to his fan club. It is the one and only time I ever mailed a fan letter. Never heard back. I holler at the squirrels in my plum tree during the summer time – yes, I actually do – and lob the ruined plums they have so carelessly discarded right back at them. It doesn’t help. They keep ruining the plums so we don’t get any, but it makes me feel better. Besides, none of my “lobs” ever make contact. It makes me wonder what kind of an old lady I’m going to make, though. When I shower and dry off, my OCD-ness kicks in. I have to follow a particular order of operations or I totally throw myself off and forget to wash my hair or something like that. I have coined the phrase “Efficiency of motion”, which is simply more evidence of my OCD-ness. It’s my personal challenge to use only productive motion, no wasted motion, when needing to accomplish something quickly. Before I move, I think through what needs to be accomplished, consider each and every motion, prioritize for maximum efficiency, and go. Scary, right? Oftentimes, I have the strongest desire to go room by room and really straighten and clean, but then I get over it and just do my usual cleaning. Maybe one day… There are some movies I could watch over and over again (Independence Day, Day After Tomorrow, Jurassic Park) – I’m not proud. I had less fear as a child and tried many things that cost my parents aggravation, worry and medical bills – back flip off the end of my bed (just barely pulled it around), handstands on the fireplace (stitches in my forehead), a Chinese split leap over construction materials, glass tiles, and didn’t pull it off so well (sixteen stitches up the side of my leg), an accident on the balance beam (stress fracture to a vertebrae), and many other things that just hurt, period. Whew. And I managed to live through childhood. I crave chili cheese fries from Top’s Junior, but I know that if I go buy some, my stomach will burn for the rest of the day. I used to pretend I was doing my work in class (high school) but I was usually writing a story in my notebook. I love watching really bad reality TV clips on The Soup. What about you? What are some of your quirks? Leave a comment! ***As a side...
Read MoreLet’s Get Personal! “Cray-Cray” Moments in Time
“Cray-Cray” Moments in Time Have you ever had one of those holy sh*t, no effin’ way, I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening kind of moments that’s forever etched in your memory as something that you will never forget? That’s what we’re talking about here, and I’m about to share a crazy moment in time. I’d love to hear one of yours. We got an up close and personal porn show!!!! I’m going to tell you this story, and I know some people might not believe this, but I swear that this whole thing is 100% true. Okay, picture this: Honeymoon a few years back with my hubby. Out on a secluded beach rumored to be nude friendly and shielded by an acacia forest with low-lying scrub and branches that suddenly give way to sand and ocean. Did we go naked? No. Wish I could say I did. Sadly, I was still too shy and innocent at that point (smirk). After playing in the water for a bit, we went back up to our blanket to rest, somewhat shielded by the greenery. Here’s where it gets OMG. We were resting and maybe getting a little playful (exaggerated wink), when I notice my hubby’s eyes looking over my shoulder (I’m lying on my side facing him). He seems watchful. His eyes sort of go round. I ask him, “What?” Barely moving his lips, he says, “She’s starting to give him a blow job.” At that point, I realize he’s talking about a couple who’d found their own stretch of secluded beach not too far from us. “No way. Really?” I start to turn my head. “Don’t look!” he whispers quietly. “Well, what are they doing?” He gave me a blow-by-blow description, pun intended, of how the woman was watching my hubby watch her give her partner oral sex. It was like she wanted to be watched while she did it! Hearing the details from my hubby’s deep voice as he whispered in my ear worked its own brand of magic, and we soon ran off to our hotel room. Share! Share! Share! Entertain us with a crazy...
Read MoreLet’s Get Personal! Romantic Retreats
Current Release! Book #1 of the Dreamwalker Series. Check it out! Click on Quicksilver Dreams for Purchase This month’s theme: Raunchy Romantic Retreats Where is a great place to get your groove on? We all need “adult time” to catch up, rediscover each other’s naughty secrets and come home with silly, blushing grins that need no explanation. Care to share? Here goes mine, and then I’d like to hear yours! La Jolla, CA – one of my favorite places to play… Okay. Here’s what usually happens: Scene One Setting: Husband enters the room with that particular look on his face. A quick scan shows that no children are around. A wolfish grin curls his yummy man lips. My husband: I need a few nights in La Jolla. Me: I’ll call Grandma. My husband: Make this happen soon. Me: I’m on it. Explanation: Why La Jolla? Oceanside is on the way to La Jolla. Grandma and Grandpa live in Oceanside and happen to think my children are awesome. They love having the kidlets around for a few nights. As we head toward our holiday romp down south, we make a quick stop in Oceanside and drop off the young ones with quick hugs and kisses before we head back to the car. At this point, there may be some ass-grabbing followed by my own girlish giggles. The no kids thing is crucial. It’s not that we can’t have a good adult time at home, but you know, there are always time constraints and noise factors to figure in to the equation. And it’s really hard to have a good talk when you know little ears might be listening. Having no restrictions let’s everyone relax and have a much better time. La Jolla is a wonderful little spot on the coast, host to my alma mater UCSD, so it’s been a playground of mine since I was a freshman in college. There are some great little hotels close to, if not right on, the beach that don’t cost too much. When you need some fresh air, you can take a walk along the sand, talk, do some snorkeling, sunbathing or swimming, eat delicious food from a diverse choice of restaurants and watch the sun set over the water. The important thing for us is to make sure we’re still hitting on all cylinders, and we do that by keeping the home fires burning. Share your thoughts! What are great getaways that keep the spark...
Read MoreLet’s Get Personal! Fantastic First Meets
Let’s have some fun with this. Every month, I’ll have a different random, innocuous question that I’d love to ask as well as answer, and I invite all to participate in the conversation. It’s always a kick to hear about others’ experiences, and I hope to meet some of you out there with a story to share. This month’s theme: Fantastic First Meets: Who has a great story to tell about how they met their partner? Was it serendipitous? Quirky? Romantic? Sizzling hot? Maybe it’s something that overlaps a number of different categories. The reason this particular theme comes to mind is because this month, I celebrate my 13th wedding anniversary with the most amazing partner anyone could ever have. Here’s my story: Seriously, it was fated. I saw this man many places before I actually, officially met him. It all started when a good friend convinced me to join a particular gym. It was a great kickboxing/muay thai/boxing gym, and I went nearly every day, which was partly the inspiration for my badass female character Taylor in Quicksilver Dreams. I was in the most amazing shape of my life. (You have this kind of time when you’re single, right?) One day, I was on a treadmill warming up, waiting for my muay thai class to start when I looked up and over to the guy on the treadmill next to mine. A tall, hot guy was getting on it, but…truly… I didn’t think anything of it. I was there for a serious workout, you know? And so was he. He had ear buds in, and barely spared me a glance before he was on the machine going at a serious pace. This was all, and I went on to finish my time on the cardio machine before joining the muay thai class that was starting. A week later, I was out with afore-mentioned good friend again. This time, we’d just parked in a parking garage in Pasadena, ready for a night out on the town. As we got out of our car, I saw the guy again. He was walking toward the elevator with another woman, and I still didn’t show much interest other than to say casually to my friend, “That guy goes to our gym.” I jokingly referred to him as the “treadmill guy”. Okay, fast forward a few months and you’ll find me on my college campus taking some graduate level classes. As I was walking down a particular hallway, I see him again. This time, he’s dressed in casual clothes, and is pushing a cart containing an overhead projector and an assortment of teaching materials. I was finding humor in that I’d seen this guy in so many places, and grinned at him. I sort of paused and stared at him as he walked by, likely giving him the impression that I knew him. He gave me a smile and cocked a finger at me in a friendly shootout and kept walking. Here’s the final jump in time which puts me a few quarters ahead in terms of the school calendar, nearly to the end of my academic program. There was a class I’d been avoiding, a science class. I had always been into literature and writing and cringed with the knowledge that I had to take this class. In spite of being a mature, graduate student, I was still suffering PTSD from my high school science classes and was not looking forward to taking this class. A friend who was going through the academic program with me pointed out a particular section of the class in...
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