Liberation Day Reflections
“It’s going to look like nothing at first, until it looks like everything.” – @_aholliday
A ‘snow day,’ MLK day, and Inauguration Day all on the same Monday?! A trifecta of happiness, thou my boss still wanted me to go into the insurance office today for training w/ handling new projects. (Busy work with no mail.)
However, all four of my vehicle doors were frozen/iced shut this morning. Dead battery in the key fab, so no way to lock and remote-start the engine for thawing. What a lovely surprise, as being ‘trouble’ makes me giggle sometimes. Afterall, I’m the office “personality hire,” and allowed to get away with this.
Throughout my life I have always appreciated a valid reason for taking leave from work. Some excuses you can only use once thou, like frozen vehicle doors, and on a day like today it was perfect timing.
About a week after my last blog post I discovered locally sourced eggs three minutes from my doorstep. I live in valley land now and as it turns out an orchard, down the street from me, offers fresh eggs all year round.
As a recovered vegan, I’ve spent my whole life very particular about frying eggs. Over-medium yolks, and if I broke a yolk, I didn’t want it. I would also break away egg white that looked weird while frying, and waste about 30% of the eggs every time.
With the timing of finding new eggs, I’m pleased to say I’ve been delivered from such embarrassing food anxiety. I feel all grown up in this luxury kitchen, compared to my barbie sized mini attic appliances of 9 years.
In January 2023, it only took 8 weeks of consistent weight training to see body results, and I’m back at it again. This time with a new lifestyle hack: organic cottage cheese.
I’ve always judged cottage cheese so hardcore my whole life, because nobody told me it’s delicious. Half a cup scrambled into 3 whole eggs is more protein than I’ve ever known in one AM sitting.
It’s also a protein hack for baking quick “3 ingredient bagels,” and a good source for probiotics.
Additionally, I’ve finally put down the gluten-free banana bread for 2025 milestone(s) sake and picked up organic sourdough science instead. I attended a three-hour class on January 11th that was enjoyable, and something outside of boring work routines.
“Change my phone contact name to Martha Steward,” I jokingly told a couple fake girlfriends who both made excuses not to go with me, as I text -shared the picture bannering this blog post. ^
Amber and Nicole both have adult sized kitchens too, so I was genuinely confused they didn’t see the class ticket price as “worth it.” I saw it as a health investment as the class was providing most take home supplies.
There’s something freeing about baking your own bread in cast iron. The gluten and carbs are fuel for getting back to YouTube work out videos. The extra protein cancels it out, I tell myself.
One of my favorite hashtags ten years ago was #carbthefuckup …back when Instagram was more exciting.
Sidenote: I’ve spent most of my adult life untrusting of gluten, when it’s the glyphosate sprayed on any non-organic crop that’s the real issue.
Moreover, I was severely betrayed by BANZA chickpea pasta last year. Whole Foods distributed and “non- GMO” labeled, yet tons of glyphosate measured in lab test samples.
The company denies it, and the product was never pulled from shelves.
In cheap attic girl living I’ve probably consumed nearly 1,000 boxes of that “gluten-free” garbage between 2018 and 2024. I was making ‘chickpea mac and cheese’ as a staple meal a few times a week for 6 years. If you do the math, I’m horrified.
Mainstream media reports: “Glyphosate has been used globally since the 1970s. While regulatory authorities should monitor how much of any herbicide people are exposed to, so-and-so said there’s no reason to panic about glyphosate, specifically right now.”
It’s the main ingredient in Round Up weed killer, and totally horse sh1t that it’s “fine” to consume. We live in a world where there’s paint thinner in Lucky Charms, and it feels only right on this fine Inauguration Day to proudly say MAKE AMERICA HEALTHY AGAIN.
Gluten-free or not, just get Round Up chemicals off our food.
The MAGA alliance feels my spirit with hope. Thank you, God.
Bobby Kennedy will do this nation great good, and I couldn’t be more thrilled for the future, despite the reality of losing contact with my sisters since after Election Day.
I have four younger siblings, two of whom are too self-centered to concern themselves with politics, no shade, but the other two raging liberals.
I was told “they will never speak to me again,” after voting for Trump, the day after Election Day. Thus far, they have upheld this statement. There are no longer any holiday conversations or exchanging of random laughs.
To get the last laugh, while Trump signs a flurry of Executive Orders publicly, is healing. Even thou Kennedy had my vote originally; I saw Trump in a different light after his attempted murder.
Meanwhile I heard them accuse Trump of “staging the shooting” last summer, in some kind of bizarre attempt to be funny. They were so hateful they couldn’t grasp the concept of an inside job from our messed-up Biden Era government.
That obnoxious and disturbing logic should have been enough for me to accept their mental illness inherited from mother, and spare myself “hurt feelings,” down the line, but I guess I naturally still forgave them, as God has forgiven/delivered me from my own extreme misconceptions.
Recission on 78 Biden Era Orders today. Free speech restored with TikTok ban reversal yesterday.
A 90-day pause to all foreign aid while North Carolina gets restored. Incredible feeling to witness overdue fair ruling.
Sidenote: TikTok contributed over $32 billion to the US economy since 2018. Supports 5 million small businesses. Yet, the Supreme Court who all have Meta shares are going to get upset about “data stealing.” Lie to us some more, while they use their Chinese phones and wear their Chinese clothes.
Freedom from such long-term anxieties has me on a natural high.
A natural high makes me want to cum…
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After eggs and a workout, I find myself on the couch with a heated blanket. A Chaturbate admirer Christmas gift that has been oh so lovely these last couple of weeks.
On today’s ‘holiday’, perhaps a couple gourmet bon bons are in order? Not medicated, just extremely well crafted. Chocolate, caffeine’s cooler cousin, does something to my body if I ingest it moments before pleasuring myself.
A reward for no “snow day smoking” like depressed attic-living me always enjoyed.
Keep going, I tell myself.
Offline orgasms for my own pleasure have never been a thing when I started punishing myself for destroying my overdue reunion opportunity with C.J. in July of 2023.
Years prior I was feeling so guilty about not having Chaturbate set up yet, that I also withheld masturbation from my lifestyle for months at a time.
My eagerness to “perform” goes hand in hand with the presence of C.J. and that’s obvious with patterns and seasons of hope and withdrawal. My last bout of zero online or offline orgasms was between the very end of September through November 10th.
On Inauguration Day, I actually want to thank the batshit crazy liberals who said on Twitter “they were abstaining from sex with republicans as a way to protest the Election results,” back in November.
Kali Roses added to the mess and went on an insane Twitter rant after the race was called. I had to unfollow after years of loving her cannabis fueled boss girl energy, because her selfish exposed feelings were disgusting. I had been a fan since before her BBL.
There I was after moving, thinking “will I ever put a dildo inside myself again?” out of grief and missing/desire for the real thing, when 6 weeks later I had to witness such absurdity on social media.
It made me think, Wait, I don’t want to be anything like them.
The entertaining Twitter commentary read: “Wow, the abortion rate is already lower, and Trump isn’t even president yet. Way to go, sluts.”
So, November 11th, shortly thereafter reading such nonsense, I broke my dry spell with my best Chaturbate regular who spoils me in private cam, and after a few hours I had $1000 and a wet floor.
I think that was around the time I had my first milk chocolate bon-bon before touching myself and found that small high-quality confections increase the intensity of my orgasms.
A clutch to move past feelings of heartbreak for the sake of cumming.
After this magical 11/11 payday, I immediately bought a squirt blanket for my ‘luxury vinyl planking’ expensive flooring. Waterproof but easy to wash, 4 easy payments, and a coupon code thanks to a sexy podcast ad that I was influenced by.
Here came Thanksgiving and Christmas thou, and with seasonal grief and no C.J. the blanket was washed and put away. Never to be broken in …until today.
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Now before the 11/11 squirt show, there was only ONE time I squirt last summer. It was July 19th, offline, and I only know that because of an abandoned private blog post timestamped.
July 19th was the morning of the “Microsoft outage” affecting thousands of users. I had been MIA from Chaturbate nearly all month after accepting my 1st corporate America office job, so July 18th I did a discounted token blowjob scene, for an extended 10/15 minutes or so.
I was chasing 25token satisfaction score ‘upvotes’ to make up for lost camming time. I used a fluffy floor pillow for my knees, so I didn’t think anything of it, before pussy play and typical vibration cumshow.
Waking up that next morning, however, my back was tight, and my muscles ached. My pussy was sore since it hadn’t been used in weeks.
My Chaturbate mod, Chuck, and generous gifter of the heated blanket, also works at a financial office, and he’s clocking in by around 8am. He likes to see any ‘proof of life’ on my Chaturbate-streaming-notifications ‘spicy story’ by 7am on any given weekday.
The morning of the 19th, Chuck was flustered yet excited about the Microsoft outage because now he had more reason to play on Chaturbate, excused, during office hours. We got to brief snapchatting.
I decline hopping online because I had the insurance office in about two hours. By the time I eat breakfast, doll up, etc. the amount of time I would have on camera would be little to none. Not worth it.
So, I excuse myself for the day but laid in bed tempted to text C.J. because being of the remote work lifestyle I imagined the Microsoft outage affects him too.
I don’t reach out thou, because maybe he thinks I’m crazy, I fear. It’s too early to pester him.
However, I can’t help but to think how “checking in” with him could go if I only lived a few minutes away… The start of my new office job was exciting, after all. We hadn’t talked about it yet.
I’ve had a ton of random odd jobs, as most of you know, but this was my first with dress pants and blouses. My first with three computer monitors, my own email, and a telephone extension.
Enticing online strangers to keep my throat trained, and E-fuck my face before work, thus making me put on business clothes with messy eyes, needs to be my future. It’s so rewarding to think about.
Makes me feel slutty as I imagine myself giving C.J. “good morning” blowjobs in bed, on-air internationally, before serving the local community with financial insurance help like a grown woman.
The morning of the 19th, I’m wet within minutes, imagining that maybe I would be given the time of day, just this once, if C.J. had no work duty for a good quickie moment.
I tell him, “Just my throat babe, because my pussy is too sore from online cocktoys yesterday,” and he growls “my pussy is never too sore for me thou. Come here.”
Being wildly wet, I’m able to slip in my thicker vibrator with ease. I’m relaxed, from yesterday’s toying still fresh in my muscle memory. However, after just a couple slow strokes, I feel how sore I am…
I never finished writing that blogpost in real time, because I wasn’t sure if what happened next made me actually crazy.
I got angry at myself, because I shouldn’t be sore. I shouldn’t have a tight pussy that barely gets touched. I should be camming 5 days a week cumming at least 3 days, right?
My anger matches C.J. being hypothetically angry at Microsoft. I believe I have timing of girlie monthly hormones peeking post ovulation, as well.
I think “I guess I’ll stop despite being wet,” but then I imagine telling C.J. “it’s too much,” as I slide my squishy pink rabbit toy out.
His response would be to shush me and tell me “You feel so good, what are you talking about?“
I get my toy back in and out with a quicker thrust. After just a few more times, the soreness doesn’t feel so bad. Either I’m getting wetter, or my pussy actually can be fucked hard two days in a row.
I’m moaning even thou nobody is watching, and my eyes start to well up because I realize “this isn’t real and maybe I really do need to stop.”
When my heartache starts to set in, I only have 2 options. Abort mission, or go even harder for a brief moment before I lose momentum. I chose the second, as I was long overdue for an offline orgasm.
April was the time before last, here.
I’m thrusting myself harder and faster than I ever do because of how frustrating I imagine a tech outage is. A glitch for a big boss is stressful. Give your stress to me. Pound my fucking pussy, hard, and ignore Microsoft.
Because of how rarely my pussy gets wrecked (few times a year) I’ll never forget squirting that morning. The euphoria of pushing past the “I don’t think I can, it hurts, to -Oh my God it feels so good, please– was CRAZY.
It wasn’t much a mess either, but just enough to hear/see/feel.
After a moment that lasted no more than 5 minutes, I was cumming so hard, I was shaking. I was gasping, I was throbbing, pulsing.
…I was silently crying immediately thereafter, because I feel guilty for so much intense pleasure that came from pure imagination. I cried in the shower and washed my pussy at the same time. Grabbed a protein shake, put on fancy corporate clothes, and went to work like nothing happened.
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Now, what makes July 19th a memorable first time for me, was also the fact that I squirt in bed, laying down, alone, vs. streaming from the computer chair. That was totally new to me, and I spent that evening in the laundromat.
Here I am now, laying on a couch. I recall all of this, and once again I am post- ovulation. I can’t stop smiling since last night’s TikTok reversal and the heated blanket has me feeling so happy inside on top of it all. Literally.
I suddenly have a naughty idea. What would happen if I had the warming blanket on my chest, and I had the squirt blanket under me at the same time? I had sat on the squirt blanket once or twice in December while streaming but goals were never reached.
* Fetches blanket *
Here we are now, three weeks into January. I didn’t get the “naughty maid “content filmed for New Year’s, and it’s public knowledge that after the holidays’ camming income is slow for everybody.
Strip clubs, too, go quiet until tax time… it’s unmotivating to get online.
“It’s a siege season, “pastor says. ‘A season where I can see it, but I don’t quiet have it.’
A few days ago, there was also a sudden death of a friend that kept me offline all weekend.
February is right around the corner thou, and patterns of my energy favor February. Perhaps I need to start smaller than solo videos and just try photo sets for bringing the OnlyFans back to life and revamping the Chaturbate fan club.
The Compound Effect: “It’s going to look like nothing at first, until it looks like everything.”
The DSLR Nikon shoots 4K, but I have to learn the remote for hands free and find the manual.
My Corduroy couch and new “4 easy payment” Converse perhaps?
They arrive at the end of this week because today’s snow reminds me, I have no closed toe shoes after moving attic box edits. I’ve been wearing UGG slides to the office because the perks of being the personality hire are endless.
I’m feeling stronger everyday with consistent “10 minutes a day” work out videos. Next month we bump it up to 20. 30 in March.
This is kind of funny thou with a bon-bon bursting in my mouth moments before fetching the waterproof blanket, sorry.
The new living room space since the re arrangement is treating me good, but how can I make sexy content in this room, if I’ve never cum in here before?
Am I dumb, stupid, or dumb?
Anyways, I pull the electric blanket over my neck and get it away from my pussy, because big bold warning tag letters warn me “do not plug in blanket while damp.”
Imagine that.
Once again, I chose my squishy thick vibrator for couch thoughts. Thoughts where I’m not alone.
The electric blanket is really tickling me. I really like cumming with the heat on me, it’s so new to me.
I had an electric blanket years ago, but attic living was space-heater oriented which required winter humidifiers. Humidifier and electric blanket at the same time is a conflict of interest.
Being in a basement/ground level apartment, this heated blanket is extra soothing.
No lube. Just excitement for what’s ahead. February where the F stands for FINALLY.
Excitement for March.
Excitement for America that I can now be proud of. We are back!
I’m so free from worry.
At last.
After maybe 7 minutes of couch thoughts, I cannot bear to share, I’m squirting again. Just like that one morning in July.
It’s not a messy puddle, it’s just a sprinkler bit of liquid, but the toy slips so much faster inside me when it happens.
I think “big squirts” are for longer/primed up pussy play like $1000 private camming sessions. Sessions with vibrating anal plugs, ring gags, and other sub behavior.
I’m cumming HARD, and it lasts so much longer than a stupid clit cum with exterior touch only. The usual way I go about it, when I just can’t get anything inside me.
I’m exhaling notes of pleasure and finally putting this $100 waterproof blanket to good use.
In the washing machine it goes, in the shower I go. No crying this time. Just happiness. Gratitude for naked private laundry.
