Sunday, November 14, 2010

Distractions....




I’m two days late for deadline, hoping that Randy has once again given us a little pillow of time pushing….knowing his devoted but procrastinating and writers block stricken staff as he does, and as I sit here in my jammies, still unwashed, smoking too much, sipping on a glass of “inspiration”….my standard punishment for my tardiness, this “You can’t go anywhere or do anything until you finish” thing, and my mind is wandering. The lust and want I wish to inspire with descriptions of Champagne, Meursault and Northern Rhone Syrah getting lost amidst my own desires, my wants…my lust. All of it mixing with guilt and threatening to overtake me…

So I came here. A new Word document, a blank page, to purge. Rid myself of these consuming distractions that are pulling me in too many directions, tugging at me…making my stomach flutter, my heart pound and are suffocating my focus. No matter how many times I rub my makeup-less face, no matter how severe the tone in my, “Knock it off and focus!” growl, no matter how many times I beg, coo and plead these images, memories, flavors, fantasies and cravings refuse to leave me and let me work.




So I came here. Here to fill this page, fill my loyal readers and ask that you read them, hold them for me, feel them for me…keep them warm and wanted until I can once again let them roam freely throughout my mind and my body…let them once again raise my skin, own my will, move me. Hold them tight, picture them vividly, groan at the very thought, assure them that they are craveable, desirable and wanted so badly….

No one needs to take them all, you can spilt them up, take turns caring for them, trade them when you need but I beg of you….promise them that I shall return for them. Assure them that they are mine, that I need them and that without my overwhelming desire to attain them that I could never be this woman that I am. Whisper my name as you hold them, devour them as needed but do not let them forget where their home is and that I will soon be back to collect them.

I trust you all….




I’m dreaming of

The smell of a fire while snuggled beneath a blanket

Warm water climbing up my back and spilling down over my shoulders

Resting on my tummy while fingertips trace my tattoo

The crunch, the give and tug of a perfectly fried scallion cake

That almost painful stab in the side of my neck with my first sip of Sancerre




My teeth piercing tender dumpling flesh and feeling the insides spill onto my palate

Lips brushing against that soft patch of skin behind my knees

A smear of thick, pungent Epoisses on hot from the oven bread

Frozen shards of Gin melting between my lips as I suck them from my martini glass

Desperate stolen kisses




The weight and aggression of Grand Cru Burgundy in my mouth

The kind of voice that arches my back and makes the skin on my body tight

Words, no matter how few, that take my breath away….




These are the things that are spinning around inside me. The wants that need a place to land until I am once again ready to let them swim around beneath my flesh, hold them for me…love and want them for me. I need them so badly but right now…I need to work.

8 comments:

Michael Hughes said...

Mmm. Epoisses on oven warm bread, Burgundy, fingers tracing tattoos, wow. That sounds about perfect.

Samantha Dugan said...

Michael My Sweet,
Doesn't it? So it seems as if a couple of my desires have found a place to snuggle for now. I adore you darlin'

Ron Washam said...

My Gorgeous Samantha,

I, too, am dreaming of...

The warm salty feel of sitting naked in a fresh bowl of microwave popcorn

Gruner Veltliner and the way it makes me gag and runs out my nose

Letting one slip and blaming the dog

Nearly dozing and having my love gently tracing the tattoo of Glenn Beck between my cheeks--OK, it's not a tattoo

The smell of a fire at the hotel in Virginia during the next Bloggers Conference--ahh, roasted Poodle. I love Korean BBQ.

A dozen fresh cold oysters, Kumamotos, shoplifted in my underpants

The sensual thrill of South African wine--is that a Pinotage in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?

Taking a nice warm bath in New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and trying to tell which is the cat pee

I guess we all have distractions. Mine just seem more normal.

I love you!

Michael Hughes said...

I adore you to sweetness

Michael Hughes said...

I mean too

Another Day of Crazy said...

Dang deadlines. Glad you got them out of the way! Enjoy Tracy's and yes, the 4th martini IS a good idea.

Cheers!

Samantha Dugan said...

Note to self: Never take a bath or eat oysters with Ron. Thanks for the tips Love and yes, your list is far more realistic...

Another Day of Crazy,
4?! You've had Tracy's martinis...damn near as big as your head. 4 would surely kill me!

Kumomoto Daddy said...

Yes, Sam, do not have any oysters that Ron brings to the party. My Kumis are fresh from the briny deep and do not take detours.