It is What it Is

This little gem popped up on my social media the other day.

The first time I heard this expression was about eight years ago. It came out of the mouth of a year 9 (14 – 15 year old) boy. At the time I was discussing with him how his behaviour choices were affecting his grades. He understood, but what he also understood was that school was not a place where he was going to succeed. At least not in a meaningful way to him.

I was a little puzzled at his choice of words and more than a little frustrated with his attitude. It took me several years to fully understand and accept his point of view. Namely that school, and the style of education I was offering simply had no relevance in his world. He was prepared to wear the cost of failing because in his eyes it was a smaller cost than the effort to try and succeed academically. Especially considering that he had a long history of not being successful. But what was more important was that he had accepted this situation. He had accepted that school wasn’t for him but that he had to ride it out.

Fast forward to today and a man I was involved with recently declared that expression as a cop out. At the time I was a little infatuated and trying to impress this man (a topic for another time) so I tried to reconcile my way of thinking to his point of view. I wasn’t really successful with this and as the universe threw some curve balls our way I found myself reverting to the original statement.

Many years ago I encountered a Catholic nun whose work involved supporting refugee families as they tried to settle into Australia with little to no money and about the same amount of support from the government. One of the statements she made almost every day was that “Providence will take care of it!” A more secular interpretation of this became my mantra in the more difficult times of my life “Things work out the way they are meant to.” or “It is what it is.”

As I write this I am contemplating some major life changes. I have been ‘at sea’ for a while and the separation from regular land based life has given me the opportunity to take stock and contemplate where I am headed with things. At the start of my journey I was adamantly saying I wanted to keep working full time for a few more years. I was putting retirement firmly into my future. But now I am remembering how I felt at the end of my last six month voyage. I have looked back at videos I made at the end of the voyage and read some posts I wrote at the time.

Back then i had this very strong sense that the “real world” of jobs and home ownership and busyness that most people give themselves is false. That we spend so much of our lives and energy building financial security, or at least telling ourselves that is what we are doing, that we forget to live. I lost that understanding once I became immersed back into the “real world”.

Along with that busyness comes the idea that we can control many things, including other people. We pit ourselves against things and try to change them to our advantage or spend vast amounts of energy trying to get people to see things from our point of view. But at the end of the day we can only really control ourselves. We can control what we do and say. We can control how we react to the actions of others and how we treat them. And that is it. When life throws a curve ball at you; like someone buying your much loved boat for example, you can shout at fate, or you can say “thank you for paying me a really high price for that” take their money and move on. You cannot change people or the way they behave. No matter how entitled and rude they are.

Like my young friend did, accepting a situation no matter how crap it is makes life more peaceful. Sitting in that acceptance enables you to make rational and more stable decisions and less hasty mistakes that you will regret later. It also, as the meme suggests, makes you less susceptible to being manipulated by toxic people. Accepting that other people’s behaviour is completely their responsibility and completely out of your control gives you the space and peace to push them away if you need to.

And so into the ocean I go, probably on my last voyage for a little while. While it is sad to think this, I am calm in the knowledge that The Universe will unfold as it should and this ending could be the start of another great adventure.

Wish You Were Here

Travelling by yacht is slow. Which is part of the appeal. It does mean though, many hours at the helm watching ocean go by. If you are lucky you will see some sea life or another boat but often these things are few and far between. And so I find myself wishing for some other pleasant activity to while away the hours. Having a face between my thighs perhaps.

Friday Boob Day – Harbour Views

We recently had the yacht out on the hardstand for maintenance. this means it is completely out of the water which is a bit weird. It looks a bit like this.

Thank you to a good friend who took this footage for us.

It is worth noting that part of the maintenance works meant the mast was also removed so she looked extra weird.

For the best part of two weeks we spent a lot of time on the boat out of the water. Which has its challenges; Having to climb a relatively high ladder every time you needed to pee, dust and grime EVERYWHERE and limited privacy. At night though most people go home and you get a bit of a feeling of being somewhere cool. Even take a cheeky shot of a marina at night.

Photo rights belong to Gemma Jones

Happy Friday people.

Power Trip

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

“Hey guys, nice to see you.” Simon,  greeted the mug shots as they popped on to the screen for the fortnightly Teams meeting. Meeting this way was a necessary evil for a school with multiple small campuses dotted around the state. Each individual campus only had one or two specialist teacher for each subject. The only way colleagues could share ideas was through meetings like this. Not that they all felt the need. But the powers that be in “The Cloud” felt otherwise and so every fortnight this group gathered to share pleasantries and stories from successful classes. 

“Hey there,” John settled into his chair. After forty years of teaching he was used to this kind of meeting. But after sixty years of life he was definitely not a fan of this impersonal kind of communication. Beside him Travis, his colleague, donned his headphones and logged in to the same meeting. While John was winding down his career and making plans for fading quietly into the background Travis was at the opposite end of his career. Full of energy and bright ideas. Also not invested in Science. He usually spent these meetings nodding away but actually working on some other work. 

“They can’t see me doing that stuff,” he explained to John. “The camera sees me at my desk. I can hear what is being said. If I need to contribute I will.” No loss to anyone and the whole meeting isn’t a complete waste of time.” 

John could never bring himself to do that. Listening to a conversation and concentrating on work was too much for him. So he sat through the stupid meeting and dreamed about retiring. 

“Helllooo everyone, sorry for being a bit late,” The broad tones of a Scottish lass pricked John’s ears. He twitched in his seat as the sound of her voice triggered a tingle in his lower regions. 

“No worries Rowan.” Simon reassured her before he began his usual spiel. John looked over at Travis typing furiously, responding to emails and constructing activities for upcoming lessons. Travis’ energy seemed tiring most days. John longed for a quiet life. One where he could go about his life with minimal disruption and be safe in the knowledge that if anything didn’t work in his classroom it was most definitely not anything to do with his teaching but rather his students’ shortcomings. 

The meeting droned on. John stifled a yawn. He really didn’t need to hear most of this stuff. Anything really important would be relayed by Travis. Then without warning there was a change in the tone of the meeting.

“In my experience,” Rowan’s voice remained calm despite the intensity John could feel, “this kind of practise never works for young people. We should be thinking a little bit more outside the box,” 

Despite himself the tingle in John’s pants became more insistent. He found himself focussing intently on Rowan’s face in a tiny square at the bottom of his screen. It was so hard to read expressions in the little mug shots but it didn’t matter; her voice was what he was responding to. There was a break in the sound of her accent as Simon tried to placate her. But she wasn’t having it. 

“I disagree,” Was that a slight increase in volume? John listened intently to the tones of her voice. Unfamiliar heat coursed through him. Why did his pants suddenly feel tight. He glanced sideways at Travis typing furiously beside him, oblivious.

 “I know other schools are taking a very different approach and it really works.” Rowan’s voice was firm, her accent more pronounced. In his mind John pictured himself as a student in her class being reprimanded by this diminutive woman. The juxtaposition of her stature and the power she radiated did nothing to calm what was now a full blown erection straining at his zipper.

Simon managed to shut the debate down. More because everyone wanted to go home than because he resolved the dispute. John allowed himself a wry smile this woman wasn’t a pushover. The whoosh sound of everyone logging off from the meeting rang in John’s ears as he removed his headphones. He stood beside his desk looking around the office. Travis had already high tailed it to the carpark. No one else was in sight. Rowan’s lilting voice was still ringing in his ears as he picked up his car keys and made his way to his car.

As he walked his erection grew it was as if she was walking beside him. As he reached his car his pants were uncomfortably tight. He slipped into the seat and fumbled with his zip. He was oblivious to the possibility of anyone seeing him. The only thing he could think about was the urgency of his dick and the sound of her voice admonishing him. His hand wrapped around his shaft and began an unfamiliar shuffle. His old wrists complained but he couldn’t stop. In his mind she was watching him sternly critiquing the size and appearance of his cock. 

His dick was harder than he could remember it being for a long time. The speed of his hand increase in response to the unfamiliar pressure building at the base of his cock. The feeling of a dam about to burst. It had been so long since he felt this feeling but he couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to. His breath was hot and hard and his hips bucked against the car seat. Heat surged through him and a dribble of cum covered his hand. Even his ejaculation was out of practise. He sagged back against the car seat breathing heavily. His dick receding back into its usual shell. 

After a few moments his mind cleared and he looked down at the white liquid splashed over his wrist. A string of fluid bridged the tip of his cock with the fingers that had just been stroking it. He looked around the empty carpark. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Wanking in the seat of his car like a dirty old man. He used the rag he kept behind the driver’s seat to wipe his hand clean all the time wondering what his wife would say if she knew. Worse what would Rowan say? 

He squirmed imagining her displeasure. Then his heart sank as he remembered. It would be two weeks until he heard her voice again.  

Recorder

I saw this meme in my vanilla social media. For about five minutes I constructed the text below in response but the whole time I knew expressing this opinion in that forum was not going to end well. At best it would ruffle a few feathers but at worst it could cause a shitstorm amongst people who I know personally. It could be argued that some of these people need to be told but I have been in enough social media comment wars to know when to keep my opinions to myself. On this page however I am queen so you can all hear what I have to say and know that you have made my life better because I am able to vent in a safe space.

Like so many things “I never used in life” learning a musical instrument (albeit an extremely annoying one) has many hidden lessons that cannot be quantified or the benefits shown fully. As an educator, posts like this irritate the fuck out of me. They make our work seem pointless and fuels the idea that it is OK to have disrespect for educators and education in general. Nothing grinds my gears than a parent or a student asking this question in the middle of a lesson. It’s right up there with the idea that school is just somewhere to pass the time until a job lands in their lap and one day someone will pay you to turn up and spend the day looking at your phone.

Memes like the one above are written by parents who re-enforce these ideas. If you don’t like what your kid is being taught in school then perhaps you should be more involved in their education. Perhaps parents who write these kinds of statements should be forced to homeschool their offspring for a while and take responsibility to teach their own children things THEY think are useful.

Many teachers will acknowledge that the education system is very, very flawed. We know how it fails more than half of our charged. We know some of the government mandated rubbish we have to teach is just that, rubbish. But what is worse is being asked to teach things that parents should be teaching. Things like how to behave with respect towards other humans, how to speak in sentences and that someone is not going to pick up their rubbish for them.

I teach because I believe that education is the key to a better future for many kids. I work in an alternative school because I recognise that mainstream schooling is a fucked up place for many kids and teachers. This kind of shit, illustrated above does nothing to help me convince my Young People that they need education for a better life. It also does nothing to help change the system so it does work better. It is just a cheap shot that helps the poster get a few social media likes.

Rant over.

Bad Moon Rising

Photography is something I am somehow sinking into. As I have published before my new phone has some awesome low light capabilities. Recently we found ourselves camping in a paddock that had a great tree free flat leading up to a rising moon. After some tweaking of grass Mr Jones captured the following shot. I don’t normally use a filter but for fun I tried it to see if I could get a sharper contrast. Thoughts?

Unexpected

These pages are a record of my thoughts and experiences. Sometimes I self censor because I am worried about how personal friends will perceive some stories. But these are my pages and these are my stories. For the record the image below is not really connected to the story but I like it so I put it here. Because these are my pages and these are my stories.

Sunday started slowly. I lay in bed chatting with a man who lives 1000km away from me. He was planning a visit to “The Big Smoke”. The night before I had spent some time with a group of friends. The event had been well lubricated and I was feeling regrets about some conversations and encounters. My far away friend asked me questions about my choices. Reasonable questions, really. Although the wording was harsh. My inner monologue had already asked me the same questions. His questions prompted my defences. I tried to explain my choices by citing a compulsion to please everyone. I didn’t say it but I was also desperately afraid that he would reject me.

The conversation took a turn. A planned meeting seemed to be in question. I did something I didn’t usually do. I defended myself. I told him that I felt judged. That I thought his words were harsh and unfair. My choices were mine to make. However bad they are. It seemed we were at an impasse. My calendar had just become clear. I was irritated at disappointing, selfish and opinionated men. As I made tea and contemplated breakfast my notifications pinged. A quick glance told me it was my distant friend. I didn’t want to hear more comments about my poor choices or worse, a diatribe about being rude. So I ignored him for a while. But of course I couldn’t help myself.

I was surprised. An apology. He had taken the time to make a voice message. The opposite of what I was expecting. Despite my push back he still wanted to meet. Not what I expected. Who would have thought that speaking up for myself would be appealing.

We met at a pub near my house. I was thinking that it would be nice to have lunch together. He had travelled a long way, up until that morning our conversation had been interesting and engaging. Some sexual content but not always. My confidence was still flagging. I was still acutely self conscious. Looking back I am not sure why but there was something. It didn’t seem like this situation was different from any other but there was something.

He greeted me with even more profuse apology and our first cuddle. At the time it didn’t seem significant but I felt the pull of attraction. At the same time an awkwardness. A desire to smooth things over and make it right. The same underlying fear that he would reject me. Once this feeling was normal for me. I lived to please everyone in the universe even at my own expense. But recently I had started to approach situations like this asking myself is this right for me? What does this person do for me? But this inner voice seemed to have deserted me. Perhaps it was because I didn’t really expect this to go anywhere. He lived over 1000km away. We both had lives in completely different parts of the state. Regular meet ups are not really going to be a thing.

Lunch meandered along. We talked about many things. Vanilla things, not vanilla things. I don’t remember all of them. I do remember him looking straight into my eyes and saying something like,

“I know what I said earlier but I could eat you out for hours, right here, right now.”

On the back of a disappointing evening with someone who will likely never eat me out willingly this statement went straight to my core. I wanted to be in a bed with my legs wrapped around his head fucking his face.

Some things happened. The details aren’t important. What is important is I found myself getting naked with him. Even then it was not the way it usually is for me. This man hails from the BDSM world. He has been existing in the dominant space for a very long time. Swinging is a secondary thing for him. At the time I still hadn’t clocked this properly. I was still “thinking with my small head”. Earlier in the day he had told me that he may not fuck me. Again details aren’t important. What was important was that I was still off balance and unsure of myself. I didn’t know how this would play out. It was unsettling. I knew this was never going to be about pure unadulterated fucking.

We undressed slowly. I let him guide me. He was quick to expose my breasts. I was to learn that he has a fascination with nipples and I knew that what he had seen of mine had intrigued him. What I was unprepared for was the skill and patience he has with stimulating them. Images he had shared with me of nipple play scared me a little. It started slowly with little tweaks and gentle stimulation. He held me close to him to try and stop the wriggling. He is a strong man but the sensations coursed through me and I was fighting his embrace simultaneously trying to protect my sensitive parts and succumbing to the orgasms he was mining out of me. The line between pleasure and pain blurred. Sometimes it seemed like the same thing. Until I was lost completely and my mind started wandering. A sharp pinch brought me back.

“Yes I hurt you,” he acknowledged. We had talked about my hesitation with pain and nipple play. I had told him I was sensitive and that pain was not something I was seeking. “You need to focus.”

He moved his attention lower, extracting orgasm after orgasm by stimulating pressure points. I felt like he was trying to edge me but we were unfamiliar with each other. He underestimated how easily I can be stimulated. He pushed me to the edge many times and I allowed myself to fall over. He didn’t push me to control myself but he did hold me firmly. Keeping my legs apart by force. The intensity of the sensations was almost painful. But when I tried to close my legs he held me open, exposed to his exploring.

I do not know how many orgasms I had that afternoon. I lost count. What I do know is I had never experienced anything like it before. I wanted more. I did not expect to be aroused, challenged and drawn to an experience like this one but I was and I am.

Time to Relax

There is something decadent about an outdoor bath

Filling the water and adding bubbles. Easing yourself into the hot foamy water.

Then a visit from a local resident

What are you doing mum? Is there room for me?

No there is not room for you but there may be room for someone else.

The Nanny Mindset

What’s something most people don’t understand?

Something a little heavy perhaps. I promise we will return to our regularly scheduled boob posts in the near future.

As I was driving with Mr Jones this morning we were discussing how teenagers use social media. As a classroom teacher I see the impact of social media on teen lives. The way it impacts how they speak to each other, the way they see each other, and the way they see themselves. I am acutely aware that what I observe, albeit in close proximity, is the very small tip of a very large iceberg.

I stated my knowledge that the current move, in Australia at least, to ban mobile phones in schools is like trying to stop an avalanche with a toothpick. As I walked through inner city streets I observed a billboard claiming that Albo (current prime minister) plan to ban vapes won’t work. I acknowledged, not for the first time that banning something, no matter how harmful it is, does not make people stop using it.

I climbed the hill to a major city hospital past at least five anti smoking signs and inhaled the odour of cigarette smoke from patients and visitors inhaling toxic fumes into their lungs before entering a building dedicated to healing.

Banning stuff that is bad for us doesn’t stop us from using it. Telling us how bad it is doesn’t stop us from using it. Making things like drugs and alcohol expensive and difficult to get does not stop people from using it. There are so many examples to prove this point everywhere around the world right now, not to mention throughout history that prove this point. And yet what is the first thing authorities do to try and address a problem?

Ban it. Put out information about how bad it is. Penalise those who continue to manufacture and supply said bad substance/ item.

Even when we all know

It

Doesn’t

Fucking

Work!

Everywhere in my country are examples of the Government making decisions for people. To save them from themselves. While this approach may save some lives, on the whole it has created a generation of people who don’t take responsibility for their decisions. Worse, we don’t take responsibility for looking after others.

Adults don’t need nannys.

Nipple

It is fair to say that my boobs are a HUGE part of my identity. I look at them often. Sometimes critically, sometimes, very occasionally, I allow myself to admire them. My nipples are always commented on. It wasn’t until recently that I realised that my nipples look erect even when they aren’t. It isn’t until you are quite familiar with them that you understand the difference.

I took this shot trying to capture my perspective of my “relaxed” nipple. It was a combination of trying to capture my view and also get a macro of my skin.