There is a meme going around called "honest blogger," and I've been tagged. I'm supposed to post 10 honest facts about myself. You know, I usually enjoy and participate in these things, but I think I'm going to pass this time, no offense to any taggers.

Why? One, because I've done this before, twice, so I'm out of factoids to post. And two, because I've already honestly revealed so much of myself on this blog over the years. You all know the horror stories of my family, my eating disorders, depression, medication, fears, angers, flaws. You know I have issues upon issues. You've seen me on my best days and on my worst. What's left, really? OK, I suppose I could post my real last name, but that would be stupid. Besides, several of you know that already anyway.

So, respectfully, I am declining on this one. Also, I hate tagging other people. I know it's part of the game, but I feel like I'm being a pain in the ass when I do that.

Today is October 9 -- John Lennon would have been 69 years old today. Sixty-nine???? Jeeezus. He is forever frozen in my mind as the cheeky 24-year-old who burst onto the music scene when he and his bandmates came to America in 1964. Where did the time go? What boggles my mind is that today, the Beatles are still as hot as they ever were. They just remastered all their CDs, there is Rock Band, there is the Love show in Las Vegas...they're everpresent and eternal. But I still remember being a small child and hearing them on the radio for the first time.

Happy birthday, John. Wish you'd been able to stick around a while longer. And happy birthday to his son Sean, also born on October 9. He's 34 today.

I have been all over the place lately, emotionally. Some of it, in fact most of it is probably hormonal. Last night I made the mistake of reading a list online of the 35 symptoms of perimenopause/menopause. It was enough to make me want to go back to bed... for the rest of my life! OK, I don't have most of them. But depression, mood swings, crying jags, crashing fatigue? Check, check, check, and check. So I probably shouldn't take any stinking thinking that accompanies these moods seriously. But at certain moments, they get the better of me. Like yesterday, when I had lunch with my stepmother and my father's friend. Sitting there with them, listening to all their incredible stories of being involved in the performing arts, I suddenly felt like I had nothing to contribute to the conversation and I was the most boring person on the planet. Foolish, I know. Self-pitying. Self-defeating. But sometimes, in a weak moment, this crap sneaks in.

I'm over it today. But I still feel like I'm vulnerable, easily swayed, could go one way or another.

Which brings me to tomorrow night, when I will be scening with Craig. Granted, there has been a lot of teasing and playing and silliness in the last week or two. My dear, dear girlfriend, whom I have dubbed Bratzilla (and you know who you are, toots -- I know you're reading this!), has been writing to Craig and telling him I've been VERY bad and that I need to be punished severely. I spend too much time online, I'm up too late, I didn't get enough birthday spanking, blah blah blah. Oh, she'll get hers, never fear. But I digress. All kidding aside, Craig and I have pre-discussed our scene, and he asked me where I wanted to go with it, what I needed.

I don't need playful and fun and raucous -- I did plenty of that at SL. What I need, even though it terrifies me, is to let go and let him control the scene, make it his as well as mine, take me where he sees fit. He knows my issues. He's borne witness to my moods, my insecurities, my foolishness. He is a friend as well as a top, and he accepts my foibles. But tomorrow night, he is going to punish me for them. Because I've asked him to. Because I trust him.

He's told me he's going to be severe and unyielding, and that I should be prepared for that. That it will be for the good of the scene, for ME.

Can you say "butterflies"? Even though I know in my heart of hearts that I am as safe as safe can be, I will be challenged. I will be pushed. And I asked for it. Am I insane?? Maybe. But I know how I'll feel afterward. It's worth it.

So... onward to the weekend. And please, all of you hold a good thought that J does NOT get a migraine tomorrow! I admit it, it's one of my biggest fears. He's getting them so often lately, and of course, he won't go to a doctor. Another reason why I've been so stressed out and worried lately, but that's another tangent and I don't want to go there. Suffice it to say, I just want it to be tomorrow night around 9:30 already. I wish I could bypass all the hours until then.

Have a great weekend, y'all.