Well, today is my birthday and several important things happen on my birthday every year.
1 – No one gives a shit because that drama queen Jesus is having his birthday also.
2 – I try not to take myself too seriously.
3 – I want someone to give me spankings.

So, this picture sort of encompasses all of those emotions. First, Jesus never wears a thong, so he isn’t as deserving of your birthday attention. Second, my cat is silently judging me while I attempt to take this picture. I could have cropped that out but it was too hilarious to edit. Third, spankings, get on top of that!

Where have I been, dear readers? Well, I got my tongue pierced on Thursday so I’ve been sort of under the weather while I wait for the swelling to go down (at which time I’ll take a picture, natch). Podcasting has been out of the question but I expect to catch up with that soon. I’ve got a list of short tidbits, though, and it goes a little something like this:

* I just discovered Balthazar B, Man of His Words. This man seems quite brilliant and sexy and wonderful and not updating for the past few weeks. I hope he comes back because finding a hot new blog that is already a dead old blog is so depressing. . .

* A bit of a dialogue has formed between Melissa Gira (aka, Sexiest Podcaster in the World) and I on this question of “fake women.” Touch My Blog has stepped into the discussion with this post. And while not directly related, I think that the Female Mysogynist is weighing in on the issue as well when she writes today about the “anti-feminine feminist bitch”.

* I’ve been desperately searching for Chanukah porn and the best I have been able to find (despite the hysterics of this article) is at the Yarmulkebra Website. Looks like I’ll be making my own, I can’t believe no one has tried to serve this market before!

Last night I spent some time at the laundromat and while I had a magazine with me to read, I forgot to grab my notPod on the way out the door. For this reason, my mind was left to wander as I folded my laundry. I realized a few amusing things:
a. thongs can’t be folded, there isn’t enough fabric to do anything with;
b. there is no fully logical pile of garments to sort a dildo harness into, slipping it in with the bras will have to do.

However, the primary thing that I noticed is that my balance of sexy/cute panties versus boring/plain ones has decidedly shifted. When I started seeing my boyfriend, C, I owned exactly zero pairs of sexy/cute panties. Seriously. In fact, it never even occurred to me to get any – I didn’t think I was sexy or cute, why should my panties be? This means that I didn’t have a single pair that didn’t come in a 6-pack wrapped in plastic. The most daring deviation from this standard were a few pairs in pink.

The first time we fooled around, it suddenly struck me that I was wearing ridiculous panties for the occasion. I was embarrassed and apologized to C; he assured me that he didn’t care and I was dreadfully sexy. I wasn’t yet in a place to believe this. However, after that first weekend together was over I asked him if he would like me to buy some sexier underthings. He insisted that it wasn’t *necessary* but admit that it would be nice. Those first purchases were very tame and from JC Penny (no joke!) but he was transfixed by a particular pair of sheer backed, lacey, black briefs I chose. They are still his favorites out of my entire underwear collection. It is a comfort to think of all of the times that I have felt his hands caress my rear through that specific piece of thin material.

As I folded laundry, I kept the panties in discreet piles, dividing them between sexy and non-sexy. When I was done, the cute underwear won out by a landslide. I realized that the last time I purchased white cotton briefs was 10 months ago when I was preparing for a trip to Turkey and a new 12-pack seemed comforting and logical. The remaining pairs from that purchase seemed sad and weak compared to the tantalizing pile beside them. There were full-lace boy shorts and low cut briefs with various silly patterns (Superman, Hello Kitty, unicorns, butterflies, flowers – even a polka-dot pair that bears a striking resemblance to a Blogger template). And there were the new additions, the thongs, that I am getting increasingly comfortable with.

It seems silly to measure myself against the vibrancy and diversity of my panty drawer. Aside from being an incredibly consumer-oriented approach, can I really say that my sexual awakening is manifested through these eye-catching bits of fabric? Oddly enough, I think I can. In the past 6 months (roughly since the start of this blog) purchasing these sorts of panties has become a given, I don’t really consider the boring ones anymore. Additionally, I have stopped wholly considering my boyfriend when making the purchase. There was a time when I couldn’t wait for him to see new underthings when I got them – I guess I wanted his approval. Now I have come to a place where I certainly love showing them off to him but it doesn’t seem necessary. I can enjoy these pretty things for myself because I am comfortable in my own skin.

The first time C licked my pussy, he had to wrestle white granny panties out of the way for access. The most recent time, he slipped his fingers under the lacy waist band of a black thong and teased my clit with his tongue through the thin panel of sheer material covering my pussy. In the 3 years that have transpired between these two instances, it is clear to me that not just the panties have changed, but also the woman inside them.

I recently succumbed to my curiousity and purchased a few thongs. I’d never worn one before and didn’t think I wanted to. Then I saw some on sale and they were the type with the thick band of lace all around. I thought they were sort of pretty and the price was right for an experiment. I started out by trying them on. I don’t really care for how they look in front, I prefer a bit more coverage. However, I can’t complain about the effect they have on my rear. I was pretty pleased.

Now, plenty of lingerie might make my ass look good. However the true test is whether I can bear to wear it all day. I normally wear boycut briefs on a daily basis. A thong is the opposite of that. I’ve been wearing my trial thongs on occasion over the past week and am experiencing mixed results. Sometimes, I like the feel of them and the lack of panty lines. Other times I feel like I have a strip of fabric up my ass. I think this feeling originates from the fact that I do have a strip of fabric up my ass. There is a chance that I might get used to it or perhaps I purchased a flawed set of thongs.

Those of you that wear them regularly: Does it get easier? Am I missing something?

Oh, and in case you’re wondering about the picture. In honor of liberating my ass from the thong for today, I thought I would present you a picture of it with nothing on it at all.