The date and my guy saying that he does not want it to end

Whenever my guy and I are on a date, I am the first one to say that I don't want it to end. My guy won't say it, but he hints that he feels the same way. 

Last Friday, we had dinner. It was just past 18:00 when he looked at his phone.

"Should you be going to your nail appointment now?" he asked.
"My appointment is at 19:30," I replied.
"Oh, I thought it was at 19:00. Good. I can stay with you a bit longer."

He thought that it was the latter time because that was the time I was supposed to go on Wednesday. I got a call from the nail place fifteen minutes before I was going to head out, saying that the aesthetician had an emergency and my appointment had to be rescheduled.

It was a fun time out with my guy. I'm glad he told me that he wanted to spend more time with me. I always feel the same way.

Seeing my guy as often as I can and ending the week with a date night

It's late. Well, it depends on how you look at it. It's Saturday morning. It's early.

It has been a good week. I was at the office four days this week and got to see my guy for all four of them.

We weren't sure about getting together yesterday. We tend to have difficulty having lunch on Fridays. I asked him to see whether we could get together after work. The course that he was teaching was behind, so he had to make up for lost time.

I texted my guy just after 16:00. My day was rough in that I was doing work that I had not anticipated. Every task given to me was so last minute. My guy was done for the day. I couldn't come down to see him, for he had to people still in the boardroom.

Instead, my guy asked whether I was hungry. I was. He was, too. We decided to go out for an early dinner at our usual hangout.

It's always a perfect week when we have a date night. It's always good when we talk about our day and laugh.

Z is for zingy

I have finally reached the end of this challenge! It has been a ton of fun.

My last post for this challenge lands on a difficult day. Today is my ex-hubby's birthday. I hope that he is having some birthday cake up in heaven.

Our birthdays happen to be a week apart. June tends to be a difficult month for me. I basically got married, graduated from undergraduate studies, and moved to Winnipeg to be with him all in the same month. I moved in time to celebrate his birthday.

How do I possibly transition from what could be perceived as a sombre, bittersweet memory? Well, I have to figure out what to write about for the letter z.

Once again, I decided to look up a word in the dictionary that begins with z that I don't use often. Today, it's zingy.

Zingy tends to mean eyecatching or amazing. I will go with the former.

My guy loves my red nail polish that I currently have on. On Tuesday, we went out for lunch. He drove us to our regular Chinese restaurant and parked. It was a bit hectic in the parking lot, with one truck trying to get by a car that didn't seem to know what to do. The male driver was trying to back up, but was all over the place, blocking the truck driver from doing anything.

My guy went into protective mode. He immediately grabbed my hand and led us to the sidewalk. He's sweet that way.

We held hands as we walked over to the restaurant.

"That was a bit scary," I said, holding his hand and using my thumb to caress his smooth skin.
"I know," he replied, smiling.
"I love when we hold hands. It feels nice," I remarked.
"Me, too," he replied.
"You love holding your hand, too?" I joked.
"Yes, Cutiebootie, I love holding my hand. Who wouldn't love holding the hand of a beautiful woman with fiery red nail polish."
"What if you were on a public bus and all the women on it had red nail polish?" I asked him.
"If you were on the bus, I'd hold your hand. If you weren't, I'd get off the bus and I'd try finding you."

He's smooth. Good answer! I'm glad that he likes my zingy, red nail polish.

Y is for yes, please!

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X is for xylography

When it comes to such challenges, I have difficulty writing about a topic that begins with the letter x. I actually went to the dictionary and selected a random word.

So, here it is:

Xylography (noun). The art of engraving on wood

I have a couple of wooden paddles. I ordered them a while back on eBay when it had a fetish section. I don't think that it exists these days. I could be wrong. As of late, I tend to browse for paddles on Etsy.

Anyway, I love these paddles. They are sturdy and I end up with a tender backside when they are used on me.

They are simple in shape, but the quality is incredible. The only engraving that appears on them is the creator's initials, which appears as a pretty decoration on the handle.

I have seen paddles that have cute hearts or words engraved on the paddle part. They look nice, but I would be intimidated having such beautiful pieces used on my bare bottom.

To me, they are works of art. I'd rather enjoy them by viewing them. Xylography is a wonderful skill to have. I admire those who are passionate about their craft.

W is for waiting

When it comes to meeting my guy somewhere, I tend to be the one who waits for him.

My guy isn't always tardy because it's his fault. I may be waiting for him at the airport and his flight is delayed. We may have set a time to meet at a restaurant, but traffic causes us both to be late and I still manage to get there before he does.

My guy and I haven't seen each other for a while. My guy is on an upswing from his recent bout with depression. I have been sad roughly a month after his depression set in due to my ex-hubby's passing, the space that I have given my guy to get out of the depression hole, and the stress that work tends to cause me these days.

When my guy's depression was at its worst two months ago, I was the one who initiated conversation with him. He wanted nothing to do with me for a bit. Things have changed.

He surprised me on Monday by texting me. He asked if I was free to do lunch. I was. I told him that I had to be back at the office by 14:00, for I had set up a meeting with the entire team of writers then. My guy said that he'd get me back in time.

He texted me at 12:45 and asked whether I could meet him in the lobby in two minutes. I was game.

Unfortunately, I bumped into my manager going to the elevators. He, too, had to buy lunch. He suggested that I take him out somewhere. I didn't want to say that I couldn't, but that I did indeed was going out for lunch.

My boss doesn't know that my guy and I are an item. He does know my guy, who was waiting in a corner down in the lobby, staring at his phone. I said hi to him, as did my boss, who understood that I had a lunch date with a colleague who doesn't come to the office as often as he used to. To my guy and me, it was a lunch date.

It was a nice change to have my guy wait for me. When we finally had some time alone while walking to his car, he was checking me out.

"You're all in pink... pink earrings, pink shirt under your black cardigan, and pink toenails. Are you fingernails pink?" he asked me.
"Nope, they're red," I replied, showing him my nails. "My fingernails did match my toenails last week."

Later on in the restaurant, he looked and smiled at me for the longest time.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.
"I am. It has been a while since I saw you," he said, grinning from ear to ear.
"It's nice seeing you smile."

He also noticed that I had cut my bangs. 

When my guy is happy, he notices such details. They are are wonderful signs that he's getting back to his old self.

V is for MuchMusic Video Awards

I decided to watch the MuchMusic Video Awards (MMVA) on Sunday night. Yes, I had nothing better to do.

After watching the show, I feel like I am aging quickly. I didn't recognize half of the presenters, who are apparently all the range to teens and tweens. I do like Ed Sheeran, who was a co-host and also won a couple of awards.

More importantly, I was pleased that The Weeknd, a Canadian, won four awards himself. He sang "Earned It" from the Fifty Shades of Grey soundtrack. I didn't realize that Sam Taylor-Johnson, who directed Fifty Shades of Grey, the movie, also directed the "Earned It" video.

The crazy thing is that I have loved this song since it first hit the radio airwaves and its video is an extra feature on the Fifty Shades of Grey movie that I had downloaded from iTunes. I have yet to watch this video, because I have been so fascinated with the other extras from the movie itself. I also have been replaying the spanking scenes as often as I can.

Well, I should watch the music video now. =)

U is for uniform - clothes and head

I have a feeling that this post will be a bit different.

Uniform.

I never had to wear a school uniform when I went to school. In high school, when I finally made it to the concert band (I have always enjoyed music), I had to wear a band uniform. It consisted of a tartan kilt that had red, black, and white, a white shirt, a red blazer, black socks and tie, and a hat that was black. Otherwise, I didn't have a dress code at school. I simply had to wear respectable clothing.

At work, most of the places that I have worked for expect business casual attire. My first job required business attire, except for Fridays.

As for role-playing, I tend to be the naughty girl in whatever scenario. I don't really have uniforms either, but I do like wearing either a short skirt or a short pair of shorts. It makes me feel like the bad girl that I am and my guy has easy access to me and my backside. As for tops, my guy likes shirts with buttons and a black bra underneath. What I wear, and eventually do not have on, turns my guy on a ton.

My guy used to shave his head for years, simply because he didn't like that he was starting to grey and was developing a small bald patch. However, since he decided to grow back his hair, I have convinced him that he looks much younger with a head of hair and that he doesn't have as much grey as he thinks.

Getting back on point, my guy has a uniform head. It is perfect. I find it sexy and attractive. I love caressing it, even with his hair. He loves that I do.

T is for talk and tease

I am a fairly chatty person. I am not sure how that came about.

Ever since I can remember, I was often dubbed as being shy. I disliked this label, because I like being with people. People don't frighten me. I simply happen to be a quiet person by nature.

Being quiet does have its perks. I tend to be a better listener than those who enjoy talking all the time.

My role has changed this year at work. Instead of actually doing the grunt work of writing information from scratch, I am reviewing those pieces that other writers produce on the team. It is a lot of work, but I do enjoy it.

The role that I have also involves talking to each writer briefly when I am in the office. There is one writer who is an only child. I am, too. Yet, we are so different.

She is both shy and quiet. I have to ask probing questions and pry information from her. As for me, I am more of a free communicator. I share information and what I am doing. People don't have to guess what I am thinking or working on.

My guy is equally as chatty as I am. He has told me a number of times that I am a great conversationalist and that everything I talk about is interesting to him. I have never seen his eyes glaze over when I talk about a topic, so he isn't buttering me up!

It's one of many reason why we are compatible. We can talk for hours and never get bored of each other.

We both like to tease each other. When he was trying to cheer me up the other week, I teased him that he could record each positive phrase one some recorder and just press a button to play back an encouraging phrase.

"You can tell me that everything will work out fine, record that sentence, and save it as button 1. You can then press it when you think that I need cheering up," I teased.
"Do you think that I don't mean it?" he asked, knowing that I was pulling his leg.
"I know that you like to optimize your time. So, you could record a speech on how things will always improve over time, press the button, walk away, and fix yourself lunch," I joked.
"Oh, really?" he asked, with a tone to his voice that hinted that he was smiling.
"Sure. You just play it and I listen to it. I continue to feel better as I listen to what you have to say. You then walk over to the couch and take a nap. You wake up from your nap and your recording is still going," I giggled.
"I can't wait to see you soon. You are so going to get it."

It's fun teasing him. Of course, there's a price for doing it. I will have a sore backside the next time we're together. I don't mind it one bit.

S is for snuggling, sleeping, spooning, and spanking

Four of my favourite intimate activities with my guy that begin with the letter s are the following:

• Snuggling
• Sleeping
• Spooning
• Spanking

My guy says that I am affectionate. It takes two to make it work. 

I love snuggling up to him. He could be watching TV or reading in bed, and I instantly want to snuggle up to him. The best part is that he likes when we snuggle. 

Sleeping is fun with my guy. He's boyish in that he likes to sleep with a pillow over his head. He also likes hogging the sheets. We have fixed that arrangement with separate blankets for each of us. 

My guy snores when he is tired, but it only lasts within the first thirty minutes that he falls asleep. I am similar in that I snore when I am tired. My guy doesn't notice, for he has that pillow over his sweet head.

Spooning is wonderful with my guy. He likes to be the outer spoon. His eventual hard member ends up pressed against my butt. One thing leads to another and we can't keep our hands off each other.

Spooning for us practically leads to my getting a spanking. My sore bottom then leads to both of us having a wonderful time in bed.

The s-cycle then goes back to snuggling and sleeping. It's perfect.

R is for red - nail polish, lipstick, cars, and my backside

I was excited when I was old enough to rent a car in my early twenties. I was minted graduate, fresh out of university. I had my first full-time job. I also had my first credit card, to actually charge the car rental on it.

The first three cars that I had rented were all red in colour. The car models were completely different. Did I get red cars because I was young or was it by coincidence?

I am not a flashy person. I don't own very many articles of clothing that are red. I can only think of a pair of mittens that I bought this past winter.

I do like wearing red lipstick and nail polish. My guy loves practically any colour of nail polish on my nails, but he gets exceptionally excited when I wear red.

"Did you buy any new nail polish colours recently?" he asked me.
"I have, but I am trying to cut down," I admitted.
"I know that you have a good collection," he agreed.
"I did get a new bottle of red nail polish. You'd approve. It was on sale and in red," I proudly stated.
"Perfect! Is it Ferrari red?" he asked me.
"It's pretty close."
"I definitely approve."

I suppose that I will have Ferrari red nails soon. I get to see him all next week.

As for the colour of my bottom after my guy has spanked me, it is nowhere near that shade of red. He does a pretty good job at making it glow and smart, though. It's the colour of warmth, love, and happiness.

Q is quantity versus quality when it comes to the number of smacks during a spanking

This challenge becomes more difficult as I go. Queen was the first word that came to mind, but I couldn't think of anything inspiring to write about that topic. Her wave? Um, not today.

I like a long spanking. My definition of long is five to seven minutes. Anything more, and either I won't have a butt or my guy's hand will need to be iced down.

Because I like long spankings, the number of smacks that I receive naturally increases. I don't normally go for a specific number, but I like when I am told that I am getting a specific number of smacks. It turns me on.

I am probably more interested in the quality of the spankings that I receive. My guy spanks me well. He will alternate between lighter and harder slaps with his hand. He will do the same with whatever implement he is using on me. He makes sure that each buttock gets what it deserves. He will tease and play with me while I am being spanked, which is still fairly new and always exciting for me.

I suppose that how rosy my backside becomes is also a fine indicator of the quantity of smacks and the quality of the spanking that my guy has done. It's also my playful whining about how sore my bottom is after the fact. The more I whine about it, the happier both of us get. It is the ultimate measurement of a decent, quality spanking.

P is for premonition - the kiss

I have been sleeping pretty well as of late. I don't know if it's because work has been stressful for a while that it tires me out or if I have genuinely figured out how to get some quality sleep.

It has been quite some time since I dreamt of my guy. I usual dream of him when I miss him a ton. Being preoccupied with work and dealing with my ex-hubby's death could be two reasons why I haven't had sweet dreams of my guy.

Last night, I dreamt of my guy kissing me on the lips. He has full, soft lips. His kiss was wonderful, to the point where I felt like I was losing myself in it.

In my dream, I was sleeping on my back. He tenderly kissed me.

I woke up smiling. I was happy. I then realized that it was a dream and was temporarily disappointed that it wasn't real. I was then fine with feeling my guy's presence with me.

Granted, it's always better to have a real kiss or more. Since my guy and I are working from home this week (I'm at home for a couple of days, whereas he is working the entire week from home), I'll take my dream kiss.

I do miss him. Luckily, we are both in the office next week. I won't be dreaming when I kiss him next week.

O is for wanting to be over my guy's knee

My guy is hunting for a new car. New to him is a used car, which is great.

As for me, I prefer getting a new car, simply because it eases my mind. I don't have to dig into the car's past to see how many accidents it has had, or why something doesn't sound or feel right a few months after I drive the used car.

He wants to go back to a manual car. He finds it far more interesting to drive. I do not know how to drive a manual car. I have asked my guy to teach me. He is will to, as long as it isn't his car.

My guy and I had this discussion:

"I missed out on an excellent manual v6 car," my guy explained. "I was so sad."
"No need to be sad," I responded. "You'll find a car that you'll call your own. Sure, I will need to wait a bit longer before I drive it, but you'll find one. You always do."

My guy refuses to let me drive his next car if it is a manual. I understand. He doesn't want anything to happen to the transmission if I cause it to stall. He would rather teach me how to drive a manual if the car is a rental.

My teasing remark didn't go too well.

"Sure, I'll let you drive my manual car. Once I am done teaching you how to drive it, I will put you over my knee and spank you for driving my car that you know you are not allowed to drive."
"If I take it out on my own to drive, would you spank me?"
"For sure. You won't be able to sit for days."

It was the best answer this girl wanted to hear for a while.

N is for for World Naked Bike Ride Day

Saturday was World Naked Bike Ride Day. It's a day where you ride naked on your bike to reduce your dependency on oil and express yourself freely by letting everything hang out.

I could never ride on a bike naked. First, there is enough chaffing happening when you are wearing clothes. Why ride naked and injure yourself more? Second, you really would need to invest in a comfortable bicycle seat. Third, you would need to launder your bicycle seat cover like you would your clothes. Fourth, why would I subject everyone to see all of me?

There is an exception to the last point. My guy wouldn't mind seeing me that way. I am not sure about being on a bike in public for the whole world to see, though. In my case, I would probably be riding with a rosy backside, moments after my guy has spanked me.

M is for mooning

I have never mooned anyone in my life. Part of me wants to giving it a try simply because you only live once. Part of me doesn't want to get caught mooning strangers just because I want to have a good laugh.

My guy and I have never mooned each other. I did enjoy my guy shaking his attractive butt while he had too much to drink once. It was a reflex reaction on my part, but I ended up giving his backside a good smack. It was a good evening.

I suppose that I am not into mooning because there is still a reserved side of me. I'd rather have my guy pull down my panties and spank me. Of course, mooning may be fun because it would land me in trouble. The act isn't who I am. It's as plain as that.

If my guy does moon me, it'll be a wonderful sight to see.

L is for lap

I love being across my guy's lap for a spanking. It is probably my favourite position when I've been a bad girl.

I feel comfortable in this position while getting a decent spanking. I love grasping my guy's thigh tighter as he spanks me harder. It's fun attempting to use my free hand to cover my backside from his hand slapping me. Instead, he'll grab my hand, tightly hold it against my lower back, and continue punishing me.

As you know, I have Fifty Shades of Grey, the movie, on my iPhone. I am sharing a few screenshots of the movie taken off my phone.

The spanking scene where Ana rolls her eyes when Christian tells her that he sold her old Beetle for a brand new Audi makes me happy. He leads her over to the couch, pulls her across his lap, hikes up her skirt, and spanks her.

I like the motion shot when he is about to smack her bare backside. It reminds me of how my guy spanks me.

Of course, I like this screenshot, too. Christian asks Ana whether she wants more. She doesn't say anything, but you can tell that she likes it, which makes him smirk a bit.

I don't grow tired watching this flick. Thank goodness for purchasing movies from iTunes.

K is for a kiss leading to being in a backroom at Black's

Yesterday, I learned that all remaining Black's Photography stores in Canada are to close. The chain is Canadian and was bought by Telus years ago.

Photography has taken quite the turn in the last decade or so. Developing film isn't too popular. You still need a place to buy cameras and accessories, but you can do that at major electronic stores. Why would you go to a photo store? Perhaps to get your passport photo done -- once every decade.

Black's has a special place in my heart. I have rarely talked about this part of my past.

Before I dated my ex-husband, I dated a man named Jay. We were same same age. We met through Telepersonals. Yep, it was an over-the-phone dating service. We left messages in each other's voice mailboxes, exchanged phone numbers, and talked.

The first time we talked, it was for nearly six hours. He told me that he loved my giggle. I liked how he could figure out what phone buttons I was pressing based on the tone emitted. We were both geeky. We both had an interest in knowing the bus number associated with a route in Toronto.

Our first date was at a park where I used to live in Toronto. I took my father's car, picked him up at his workplace, which was at a Black's, and we drove down there.

We talked. We kissed. He wore braces. I didn't. It was a nice, memorable, sweet evening.

We continued to talk for a while. Then, I didn't hear from him at all. I didn't know what was going on. I kept leaving him message on his home phone.

He finally called me from a pay phone one day. He was at Eglinton subway station. He told me to never call him again. Yes, he broke up with me over the phone.

I was devastated. I was only twenty years old. I cried for a few days. I was then slowly getting over him.

Months later, he called me. Well, it was his sister who called me. I didn't know her. It sounded like she was crank-calling me. I got my computer's modem to pick up her calls, which emitted lovely screeching noises.

Finally, Jay spoke. He finally explained why he had broken up with me. His father objected to him dating and had heard my messages on Jay's answering machine. His father had passed away, which was the main reason why he could finally call me.

Jay wanted to see me. I was in the middle of studying for a computer science midterm. He wanted to say that he was sorry.

I agreed to meet him at his workplace, which was twenty minutes away from where I lived. I took my dad's car to meet him.

He was the youngest manager at Black's back then. He asked me to accompany him to the bank in the mall. I did. He deposited money from the store for that day.

We walked back to the store. He locked the door. We went into the photo development room, where there were no security cameras.

We kissed. He wanted to play with my breasts. I took off my t-shirt. I then proceeded to take off my bra. He liked what he saw and caressed them.

That evening was the last time I ever saw Jay. Weeks later, I met my ex-husband.

I think of Jay now and again. I wonder whether he is still working at Black's or has moved on.

My guy and Jay are somewhat similar. They are both bright. They both have mentioned that they like my giggle and personality. They are the same height and have the same hair colour. They both like caressing my breasts.

If Jay is still with Black's, I hope that he finds employment soon. Would I want to see him again? I would like to catch up with him and see how he's doing. That's about it.

J is for jeggings

My guy is somewhat traditional in his ways. He insists on paying for lunch or dinner whenever we dine out. He will open the car door for me and close it before he gets in. He also insists of driving me places. It's one of his sweet qualities.

When it comes to clothes, I tend to wear styles that will endure for years. I try not to follow trends.

For years, I avoided wearing leggings. I have large calves and I always felt like they were being strangled when I tried on a pair of leggings. I felt the same way about skinny jeans.

Well, the fabric technology has changed and improved over the years. Wearing white leggings no longer means that you can see everything underneath, as if you had x-ray vision. They stretch much better. As a result, they are comfortable.

I bought my first pair of jeggings (jean leggings) last winter and loved how comfortable they were on me. I wore the same pair on my flight to Istanbul.

The first time I wore my jeggings in our treehouse, my guy didn't know what to do with them or me.

"Your jeans don't have a fly!" he exclaimed.
"They are jeggings. You pull them on."
"How am I going to get access to you?" he asked.
"You just have to pull them off."

When I got to the hotel in Istanbul, while lying on my back on the bed, my guy took my jeggings off in one smooth motion. He was so used to jeans having a fly and a button. They were both missing. It was a good reason for me to be spanked.

I also wear bras that are comfortable. They look different to my guy. However, he never has an issue unfastening whatever bra I am wearing.

I suppose that guys will figure out how to disrobe you no matter how foreign your clothes seem to be to them, at first. Practice does indeed make perfect.

I is for inclemate weather

I drove to work in quite the downpour. Mondays are generally blah days. Add stormy clouds and what seems to be a ton of rain, and you get the best start to your workweek and commute.

I tend to take a toll highway to get to work during the morning rush hour. Taking the regular highway 401 means wearing out my car's tires due to constant braking, cursing at horrible drivers, and basically crawling along to get to work. Even with the downpour, I managed to go well below the 100 km/h speed limit (80) on the toll highway and still manage to get to work before 09:00.

The rain finally eased by the time I was at the office. Figures!

The other day, I was in my car when my guy called me. We talked. Then, he heard the rain coming down hard against my car's windshield.

"I can really hear the rain," he remarked. "You're safe, right?"
"Yes, I am sitting comfortably in my car," I replied.

When I think of rain and my guy, I think of our trip to Stockholm and getting caught in the rain while on a tour bus. It was fun hearing my guy whine. It felt wonderful holding each other tight and using the umbrella to keep us dry.

Rain is kind of romantic. I don't mean kissing in the rain necessarily. It's not attractive looking and feeling soggy. However, making out in the treehouse or anywhere indoors while the rain gentle falls outside is nice.

Of course, showering together is completely different. It's both playful and sensual. My guy loves to lather me up and play with me. I enjoy doing the same to him, along with kissing him under the shower head.

My guy is sweet. After we're done showering, he likes to wrap me up in a bath towel. Of course, he can also quickly undo the towel, put me over his lap, and spank me hard.

Naturally, more fun ensues after that.

H is for a hug and a hard spanking

My birthday is next month. This year is just flying by!

For the last couple of Christmases, my guy has asked me what sorts of gifts I would like. He is a pretty good gift giver. However, he thinks that I am the ultimate gift giver. I have told him that I love how thoughtful his gifts are and that he shouldn't be comparing. He also likes to retain as many brain cells as he can, so I give him a list.

It is the reverse for my birthday. He has never asked my for a list. If he did, it would be something like the following:

• At least a hug. Not only do I want one, but I need one. A nice warm hug from my guy is the best gift.
• A spanking, preferably a hard one. I'm not fussy whether it is over a pair of shorts, panties, or across my bare backside. I just want a hard spanking by him because I deserve one.

As for material gifts, I don't need anything. I would rather have my guy gift himself to me and let me unwrap him.

G is for good geeky gadget girl

I seem to be handling this challenge with alliterative blog post titles. It's fun. I don't know why I am doing that, though.

I often refer to myself as geeky gadget girl. As a student, I was a good one. I was geeky, simply because I have always enjoyed learning. I ended up working in the computer or information technology sector.

I love gadgets. My guy often marvels at how quickly I can figure out how to use a gadget. When he first handed me his phone, I showed him how to access his voicemail. He had no idea that he had that feature!

My guy calls me geeky gadget girl, too. He insists on calling me cute geeky gadget girl, though. I like it and we aren't fussy that cute doesn't start with the letter g.

In past e-mail exchanges, my guy ended up calling me 6G, because he used six words starting with the letter g to refer to me. I like shopping at Gap, so I know that we added that to the mix.

As for being a good girl, I tend to say that to my guy when he insists on giving me a spanking. In my playful defence, I state that I do not deserve to be punished because I am a good girl.

"You? A good girl? Never!" he told me a while back.
"Sure, I am. Everyone else says that I am a good girl. You are the only one who objects," I said defiantly.
"See, they just see you as a good girl. I, however, know the truth. You are a bad girl who needs constant discipline."

The banter often continues when I am over his lap or bent over, getting a hard spanking. When he asks whether I have learned my lesson, I will reply that there nothing to learn because I am a good girl. Naturally, I get spanked harder and longer after that remark, which is exactly what this good girl wants.

F is for frustrating Friday

Software releases are a major event at our company. Everyone scrambles because project managers and those who think that they are in charge of things cannot plan for beans.

Thursday and Friday were days in which my entire writing team had booked a meeting room and worked on our deliverables for this Friday's release. Some of the writers that I work with and supervise are not swift.

A writer that has been with us for 1.5 years got on my nerves on Friday. I asked the entire team three times whether their work was checked in, so I could go ahead and generate manual PDFs. I frankly think that this exercise is far more complicated than my manager makes it, but whatever. I have stated my case many times. Our writing tool has its limitations.

Anyway, this writer comes back after a training session (I don't think that she learned anything) and asked me whether I had generated the PDF that corresponds to her work. I was annoyed. I told her that I did an hour ago and that she didn't speak up when I asked whether I could proceed. She apparently had a change to make.

This writer was also the same person who sat in another meeting room on Friday morning for at least a half hour before she figured out that she was in the wrong room. She was a part of the discussion on Thursday saying that we'd be in the same meeting room for the next two days. My boss also had sent an e-mail to the entire team.

Then, there's the second newest writer. He created a new branch (version) for our documentation release. He messed up the settings such that all PDFs had for-internal-use-only watermarks in them. He insisted that it was the correct setting. Another writer, my boss, and I all disagreed. I basically had it and said that I had wasted two hours manually generating the PDFs. The other writer was kind to help fix the setting after seeing how frustrated I was becoming.

To add insult to injury, the female writer who got on my nerves earlier said that she had noticed the watermark. Really? And you decided not to say anything. Ugh!

So, I got to work at 08:45 and left at 18:40. At least the weekend is here. However, I have a sore throat, which is never a good sign.

I'm off to rest up, to prevent myself from getting sick and from going insane.

E is for engaging event -- making an exception by commemorating my wedding anniversary

I don't typically commemorate my wedding anniversary these days, simply because I have been divorced for several years now. I thought that I would make an exception.

Today would have been my wedding anniversary. It would have been a milestone.

For those of you who have been reading my blog for a while, you know that I was extremely unhappy while married to a man who cared more about himself than those around him. It was difficult living with him. I stayed in the marriage many years too long until I had enough strength to leave it.

My ex-husband proposed to me early in our courtship, which I found odd. It was within a matter of weeks. He wanted to get married immediately. I had started my second of year undergraduate studies. I wasn't ready to get hitched. Instead, I insisted that we get married after I graduated. He was good with that.

We married at Old City Hall in downtown Toronto almost three years later. It wasn't a fancy wedding. It was a civil one. We had two witnesses with us. We said our vows, kissed, and were married.

I remember what I wore. Only my blouse was white. I have never liked a full dress on me, especially when I was fifty pound heavier then than I am now.

We took a cab from the hotel where we were staying in Scarborough to Old City Hall. After we got hitched, we took another cab back.

We started our honeymoon immediately. The first thing he did was have me face down, lying on the bed. He lifted my skirt up and gave me a number of smacks across my panties. They were hard smacks.

My ex-husband was the first person who has ever spanked me. He was the first person that I ever spanked. I lost my virginity to him.

Although he treated me badly as our marriage progressed, I try not to recall all the negative memories that I have. It's difficult, especially when I am a reflective person with a decent memory.

I was happy on my wedding day. It wasn't the wedding that I had dreamed about, but I have never asked for much. It was a good day.

A week later, I graduated from university. My parents and my ex-husband attended my graduation. My ex-husband and I then went to celebrate by having a lovely dinner.

We both learned that beer and ice cream do not mix. I have never done that combination ever since.

My guy and I talk about my ex-hubby now and again. I typically don't bring it up in conversation. It is usually some sort of trigger that causes me to briefly talk about him. My guy never rolls his eyes and tells me to stop talking about the ex-hubby, simply because I don't talk about him much and my guy doesn't mind when I do talk about the ex.

When I told my guy of my ex-husband's death, my guy was the one who asked questions about him and how I was coping. I truly believe that my grieving caused my guy to slowly come out of his depression. We are alike in that we both feel that we can't be depressed simultaneously. At least one of us needs to get the other out of the darkness. I have done that more often for my guy these days. He rarely sees me get to such a stage and reacted immediately when I did last month.

I have learned so much from my ex-hubby. I continue to learn so much from being with him and from living my life with my guy.

Life is definitely better when you are with someone who loves you completely and gets you. It's a mutual sentiment, which is one reason why my relationship with my guy works.

D is for dialogue, distance, and dares

My guy and I had a nice chat over Skype this afternoon. We talked about our day. I had to let out some steam about some annoying work issues. My guy is always supportive. I always appreciate that he's there to listen to me.

He talked about how he went to a local Chinese restaurant for dinner the other evening and how much he appreciates the quality of the food at the restaurants that we go to near our workplace.

"So, the food wasn't great at the restaurant you went to?" I asked him.
"It was okay, but it was more expensive than it should have been," he replied.
"Ah, it's Cheap Bastard complaining about how overpriced the food was and wanting to save an extra two bucks," I teased him.
"No, the quantity and quality weren't there," he insisted.
"Cheap Bastard is cheap," I teased him. "Did you whine?"

He laughed. He knows that I like teasing him. It is usually my way of setting up a future spanking. It's even more daring when I tease him while I am over his knee, with my bottom bared. It makes him spank me harder, which is the entire point.

My guy let me know that he got a new iron. He loves to iron. This one is rather fancy. You can actually set the iron down on the board and it won't burn the board's surface. I must check it out one of these days. After all, I am a girl who likes geeky products.

He also told me that he downloaded an app on his phone that counts the number of steps that he takes each day. He advises that the count is pretty accurate. He was more impressed when I had walked over 16,000 steps while we were both in Istanbul one day. I have a Fitbit One tracker, which has been working well for me for over a year now. He told me that he isn't even close to that count when he travels. He's sweet that way.

My guy doesn't come back to the office for a while. However, he may have to attend some course in a couple of weeks.

I asked him whether we could do lunch when he is in the office. Since his depression, he hasn't been inclined to go out for lunch as often as we used to. He knows that I am not at my cheeriness these days, so he didn't hesitate to say yes. In fact, I could tell that he wanted to apologize, but he did it his own way, saying that he wasn't abandoning me.

Things are looking up. I can't complain.

C is for Christian Grey, chat, and eye candy

I have written a handful of posts on the Fifty Shades of Grey movie. I am the proud owner of it on Blu-ray and also have it on my various Apple devices.

I refuse to read the trilogy. The grammar errors would drive me crazy. I like the movie.

Jamie Dornan, who plays Christian Grey, is pleasing to my eyes. Some of his gestures in the movie remind me of my guy.

The way Christian holds Ana's face in his hands is what my guy often does before he kisses me. I suppose that my guy is really my Christian, minus being filthy rich and having a rough childhood.

My guy is my eye candy. Whenever I see him, my heart beats a little faster.

On the weekend, my guy and I chatted on the phone. I was originally on Skype for a while, eating my lunch. I then decided to run some errands. I didn't have Skype open while I was out and about. My guy called me.

"Hey," I answered my cell phone.
"Hey," he replied.
"Is this a long-distance call?" I asked him.
"It is, but my cell phone has coverage," he replied.
"I can get back on Skype," I suggested.
"That would be great. You were on there forty minutes ago."
"I know. I see that you are keeping tabs on me," I teased.

Our chat was an important one. It was nice to chat like we kind of used to when he wasn't sad. Instead, I shared with him the various things that were consuming me. He always knows what to say to me, to comfort me.

He asked that we chat again soon -- that he'd call me. He is definitely becoming his social self again and breaking out of his depression. When he is depressed, he doesn't want to reach out to anyone, which always concerns me.

Tomorrow is our chat day. We are both at home, so it's perfect.

B is for birthday spanking

As many of you know, I love birthday spankings.

I love the entire ritual of celebrating your birth into the world by either bending over a table or sofa, having your pants and panties removed, and getting your fair share of smacks across your bare backside.

As for me, I like being over my guy's lap for my birthday spanking, which is in a month's time. Geez, time certainly flies!

I am typically wearing a short skirt. My guy likes to warm my bottom by lifting up my skirt and giving me my birthday spanking over my panties. He'll then lower them and will spanking me hard with his hand. I get my age in smacks on each buttock. It hurts, but it turns me on.

This year, my guy wants to use a fly swatter on me. I am game.

It would be great if every day were my birthday. Then again, I wouldn't be able to sit down for a while. I do like that thought.

A is for ancient computer - my first one

It's the first day of the Spanking A to Z challenge!

The other day, Han wrote a delightful post about his first computer. It's now my turn to go back into my technology archives and do the same.

My first computer seems ancient now. My asked my dad if I could get a Tandy 1000 SX that was in the Radio Shack flyer when I was in grade ten.

Mine looked like this one, minus the second floppy disk drive and joystick:

Courtesy: PC Museum

It seems so long ago. Radio Shack no longer exists in Canada. Instead, the chain is known as The Source. The Tandy line is long gone. Even the mall in which we went to get this laptop has been demolished!

Anyway, I was so happy with my Tandy computer. It had one 5.25" floppy disk drive. It had a rather tiny hard drive. The monitor was monochrome in a lovely shade of green. I also needed a printer, so we got a daisywheel printer that must have been two feet in width. It was a noisy printer such that I couldn't print at night. I would wake up everyone on our entire apartment floor!

Being the novice geeky girl back then, I accidentally wiped out the operating system disk information. I had to go back to Radio Shack and ask that the nice gentleman copy MS-DOS onto my blank floppy disk. He was nice to do that for me without charging the high school student anything.

After taking my first computer course in grade 11, I used my computer often. I programmed in BASIC. My favourite programming task that I did at my leisure (when I say that I was a geek, I was then, and still am) was creating a program that played songs that I liked. It isn't a huge surprise. I love music.

I ended up getting some fun games. I got Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune. My friends loved to come over and play them with me. Yes, they didn't mind that the wheel was in different shades of green on my monochrome screen.

I then got into Shareware programs. It is nice to play Frogger, among other classic games that I used to play on my Atari 2600.

I actually had this computer till my third year of undergraduate studies. I did a number of upgrades on my Tandy, including the RAM and hard disk drive. I even installed a 2400 bps modem, which was all the rage back then.

Eventually, being a computer science student, I had to upgrade my computer. I did, but I still had the computer until I graduated. I ended up donating my beloved Tandy and the daisywheel printer to a local charity in Winnipeg.

Memories are wonderful, especially when it comes to technology. What was your first computer