Posted by lucky_1 on Tue 11 Mar 08, 9:16 PM to lucky_1's blog.
Lucky isn't actually writing this, it's me, wench. I merely happen to be sat on her sofa drinking birthday champagne and I am dwelling in the purgatory one week of silence that is ICs rejoining rule.
You're undoubtedly busting a gut to know what was so important and/or exciting that I couldn't wait a week to post under my own name. No real reason - except I have just come back from a week in San Francisco and it has been an experience that could be described as any one of the following (take your pick) - life affirming, life changing, invigorating, fascinating, enlightening.
It was my first time in San Francisco. My best friend, a wise woman, had said to me that if I went, she envisaged me never returning.For that reason, she was quite happy if I stayed away. I now know why she, and the song, talk of people leaving their heart on its steep and winding roads; for once you have spent any time basking in the raging sun reflecting off the picture book pastel houses you realise that life doesn't really get much better.
Visually, the place is a delight. Greenery sleeps lazily alongside the lazily blue sea; the old and the new architecture sidles up against each other and affords a gentle nod in mutual respect. Only a few miles from the city sway giant redwoods peering down at the hoards peering upwards, the smell so thick and botanical it is tangible.
It is simply not possible to not be stunned by the Golden Gate Bridge. I walked across it most days, and disappeared in the rising mist that slivered its way up the copper coloured girders. At that time of day, you smile at everyone you pass, hoping they are not one of the many that hurl themselves from the bridge each year to their deaths. Funnily enough, friends tell me that the vast majority of the jumpers (about 90%) jump looking towards the city rather than the Pacific on the opposite side; as if paying one last look towards a city that held no hope to them before they leave life.
Dotted along the bridge are help phones for the suicidal. It would be sadly fascinating to know what words were exchanged in those times before people let go.
There was a pace of life and a gentle, smiling beatnik attitude to just about everything. It is a city you can imagine cycling along in a sundress with freshly secaturred roses in your bike basket, before sipping an early afternoon cappucino with a newspaper and a salad.
Or lots of wine, as I did. A lot.
But of course, it wasn't just a week of pretending to be Joni Mitchell. The reason San Francisco was my destination was that it was hosting its annual Fetish Ball, Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights were decadent kaleidoscopes of every aspect of fetish culture you could imagine. It was my experience that there was immense friendliness and lack of delusions of grandeur about the place. Everybody was approachable, friendly and polite, and most importantly, fun.
A behind the scenes look round the Armoury where they Kink.com film The Training of O amongst other things was something I am unlikely to forget. A quite incredible building and some adorable staff led me down the corridors that I am usually watching a little glassy eyed on a screen. It was of course necessary to strike all the relevant poses in the relevant rooms; pictures unlikely to make it to my mantelpiece for general viewing. Strangers in years to come will ask why there were pictures of me looking highly aroused by urinals in my photo album; I guess I will worry about it then.
Of all the kink.com staff, the cutest was undoubtedly the Armoury cat which stroked my chest purring - an absolute peach of a kitty.
San Francisco is one of the sexually most liberated cities in the world, but even with this knowledge I was stunned at how utterly mellow the inhabitants were with everything and anything they saw. On many a night I stood in the hotel lobby kitted in rubber and heels and the lobby staff wouldnt bat an eyelid, but instead wish me a fantastic evening.
There were evenings when I sat dining with cultured, intelligent fellow kinksters and was absolutely intoxicated with the liberating feeling that stems from spending quality time with people who are completely at ease with their gloriously diverse sexualities. For many a year I was deeply uncomfortable with my own sexual notions, considering them seedy, politically incorrect and reflective of a personality issue. I have not had that feeling for many a year, but this trip gave me a far more global perspective on how all over this amazing universe are people from all walks of life who enjoy sharing with each other what you, dear reader, do, and what I, slightly tipsy writer, do also.
I have a potent visualisation of me returning to San Fran at some point, perhaps to work, perhaps to live, maybe on just another holiday. Either way, I was eternally conscious all my adult life that this was a city I was desparate to see, and I understood that once I had inhaled the air I would be addicted. It smelt like a good kind of drug, and reflected a week of my life where I was so immensely happy that I am sure I have used up my years quota. But then again, happiness needs looking for - it sure as hell won't float your way if you don't invite it in.
And now I know why Rufus was so excitable.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UNp8ppYFMI
| 11 Mar 08, 9:32 PM northern_light UK, 7 yrs  |
Welcome back to the UK! It sounds like you have had a fabulous time and I shall look forward to the tales and no doubt endless photos over a bottle of wine very soon. I love the chastity now that it flows between us. It is like fresh water and rain. How can men want wearisomely to philander." "I love chastity now, because it is the peace that comes of fucking." DH Lawrence from Lady Chatterley's Lover | |
| 11 Mar 08, 9:37 PM caprycorn UK(M), 8 yrs |
A bottle? A singular bottle? You'll be bloody lucky, missus! She's rocked up here on my woman's birthday, drunk her bodyweight in champagne, is scorning the tia maria for more bubbly or wine, is staying over the night having invited herself, has developed a rather convincing american accent and also an aversion to lemongrass. Oh and has shown us fifty thousand photos of the great and the good (in other words perves of the world) and hasn't stopped talking about the MARVELLOUS people she's been spending time with. Her phone hasn't stopped beeping with texts and I think I might need earplugs because she's talked us half to death.
In other words, she's back. Fuck me, it's good to see her sparkle
My imaginary friend thinks that you have a problem | |
| 11 Mar 08, 10:09 PM Sweetiejar UK(S), 11 yrs |
Yes we had a bit of a convo this afternoon, just as I locked myself out of the house lololol. Mad Sams Disco (alternative name for San Fransisco) sounds delightful. I wanna see some pictures too. And most importantly WELCOME BACK WOMAN bloody hell I've missed your blogs. xxxxxxxxxxxxxx Sweetiejar | |
| 11 Mar 08, 10:16 PM northernwench 7 yrs |
I didn't know my old profile still existed! Crikey! | |
| 11 Mar 08, 10:31 PM littlenic UK(KT), 5 yrs |
I went years ago (for my 28th birthday!) and loved the place. So easy to get around, so welcoming - and as you say, really beautiful and stunning, and I too am blown away by the bridge. (I had a fun birthday night in Alcatraz too!). But I'm *soooo* envious you got to see the Armoury! *drools* "Yours is over there..." | |
| 11 Mar 08, 10:34 PM goodghirl UK, 8 yrs |
I'm so so happy to see you back by fuck weve missed you around here Welcome Back XxX P.s we want pics A wise man once said ......something | |
| 11 Mar 08, 10:58 PM Margrave UK(B), 6 yrs  |
it sounds wonderful  I'm a tiger, Grrrrrrrrr | |
| 12 Mar 08, 9:55 AM crimsonsky UK, 6 yrs |
Good to have you back. I've missed your blogs. x | |
| 12 Mar 08, 10:47 AM clare 11 yrs |
Fantastic to see you back, and in full throttle. | |
| 13 Mar 08, 12:52 PM Miss_Lead UK(HP), 6 yrs |
Wow makes me want to book flights immediately. Welcome back. "Everyone is a potential naked slave to you once you become a trainer". |
