Where are you Christmas...

   As I sit here in the background I hear screaming and fighting and the air is thick with stress and tension when it should be familiar songs of the holidays and love within the air. It saddens me... I feel lonely today. I found a song that I used the title for also as this posting and I will place a link to it at the end of today's writing because really it rode heavy on my heart today. I miss my Master, I wish I was with him today. I want his arms around me for my Christmas...

   The last 2 days I have been very busy, hence why there was no posting, but I will write here the happenings from the last 48 hours. they were good days, I spent them where I will be living after the holidays until I move, I know some people may wonder why I am so vague and really its because the information is irrelevant other then the fact I am getting my ducks in a row to move in 2 very short months to Europe. OH that reminds me, my Master emailed me some information over the last few days at a couple of properties he was looking at for ideas for us and well as you can guess it made me even more excited and anxious to move because I want to be looking at places together!!!

   Most of my last two days was spent baking and canning home made jams and apple butter, anyone who truly knows me, knows I have this insane passion for cooking and I love love love to learn and test any technique possible, so I made all kinds of treats and enjoyed the hell out of it! I also last week made a spiced wine called Glogg, it has a full bottle of red wine and a full bottle of vodka and like 2 cups of sugar and basic mulling spices like cloves and Cinnamon etc and it is served warm and man oh man does it warm you up hahaha! Oh, and for anyone interested I will be starting a domestic advice blog soon as well which will have links on this one for easy access, it will be called " Trouble in an Apron " and it will include a lot of my recipes and things like that so YAY! and also once I move I will also have one that explains on a more vanilla aspect as a sister to this blog, how myself as an American girl is adapting to life in Europe. Sooo as you all can tell I will have a lot of fun new reading over the next few months. Also if there is anything you would like to hear about in specifics or any ideas you want to input feel free to send me a comment with them and I will be more then happy to fit them into one of my posts! I enjoy this, it keeps me out of trouble hehe.

   OH remember how I posyed the picture if my Biological parents tree with the decapitated Santa head in all its hillbilly glory? well I decorated another tree at the house I was at over the last 2 days and I will be adding that BEAUTIFUL display of Christmas wonder on this blog you comparison =) I am very pleased with the outcome! OK, sooo I am going to make this a short post because I have a lot to do still before Christmas, but I will do my best to scribble a little something down here before the weekend.

I miss you My Master. You are my Christmas.

Where are you Christmas - by Faith Hill

  

Lyrics to " Where are you Christmas "


Where are you Christmas
Why can't I find you
Why have you gone away
Where is the laughter
You used to bring me
Why can't I hear music play

My world is changing
I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too

Where are you Christmas
Do you remember
The one you used to know
I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go

Christmas is here
Everywhere, oh
Christmas is here
If you care, oh

If there is love in your heart and your mind
You will feel like Christmas all the time

I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you
You never fade away
The joy of Christmas
Stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love

Where are you Christmas
Fill your heart with love

5 days until my Last American Christmas

   I'm sitting here as we just put up our tree in my Biological Family's home, and I cant help but note some twisted irony in the fact we have a decapitated Santa head on the top of our tree every year instead of an angel... I wonder to myself if Vlad the impaler aka Dracula was to have a merry Christmas if this is kinda what he would envision, a head upon the tree, no body, just a morbidly happy smile and glass eyes that reflect the brightly colored lights that are woven through the branches of this festive symbol. *sighs*

   I tried to explain to my family just for fun cultural conversation where the symbol of Santa Claus came from and that how in Netherlands on my birthday which is on December 6th, they celebrate Saint Nicholas birthday and they call the day Sinterklaas. Saint Nicholas and his soot covered little helper Pete come and deliver goodies and place them in the good little children boots where the naughty ones get switches for spankings ( I want to be naughty tee-hee!! ) anyways, Sinterklaas looks like our American version of Santa though somehow we have turned a catholic holiday that was celebrating the birth of baby Jesus into a gift giving gluttony fest where Santa is god and frankly people don't even want to know where he came from. My Parents of course rolled there eyes, and made some comment about how I was trying to make it all about me and dismissed my conversation as quickly as I had introduced it and that was that.

   ( Que sarcasm ) "Woo Hoo for Dead siants heads on yop of our tree!! Bring on the EggNog!"

   I had a nice morning for the most part really. I woke up a bit early and my Master got his hair cut and showed me on web cam, and of course he looked very handsome as I always think he does, and he told me he was very happy he has me in his life because I make him a better man. That melted me to the core of course and I spent the remainder of my day floating on cloud nine as I went about my chores and such. I also packed up anything I wont need for the next ten days because I will be moving in with some friends until my move after Christmas so that I can focus on my planning and not have to play Cinderella at age 27 for my Biologicals.

   Other then that I made some potato pancakes and we had breakfast for dinner. There may be something very cynical about having Jewish Latkes ( aka potato pancakes ) and bacon together... amusing thought to dwell on. Anyways that was about it for today!! * hums "its beginning to look a lot like Christmas" as she logs off*

a prelude of sorts

    I sit here upon the couch, the laundry is spinning within the dryer, the dishes have been done, and as I sit here I cannot help but smile as I begin to start my first post in the story of my upcoming life that I am all too eager to begin. I look back and I can’t believe in March I will have been submissive to you from 7000 miles away for a whole year. Oh how my neck longs for the weight of the collar you will place there... My eyes, they long to look into yours, my lips, they crave one taste of your mouth, and my heart and soul burn to serve you in your every need may it be Domestic or Sensual.

 
  I met him online, but we won’t go into specifics as to whereabouts. I will tell you it was in a place where many of a D/s type fascination gathered to talk and virtually act out through emotes the process of online slavery in a role-play setting. I was so new to this concept, so naive in my own right as I somewhat still am so I am told. I have not experienced much outside of my tortured youth and tragic past which perhaps someday I will record here as well... He was not my Master at this time. I actually fancied myself a woman above submission, perhaps more dominant in my mind as a self preservation tool, but I knew, even as a friend or acquaintance this man caught my eye. He was mysterious; he would just sit upon the wall and watch as life passed by, only speaking when there was something profound to be said, and every word always stuck. I watched him, quietly learning of the life and style of the place and customs of the world we all were creating, and it took several weeks but he spoke to me finally, and we became vague friends, myself shy and I was later to learn he was somewhat intimidated by what he called my exotic appearance I have in a photo from modeling. Black hair, light blue eyes and a display of confidence I could at that time only show to a camera. I think he saw through that. I am sure of it, and though we parted paths at a fork and did not speak for perhaps a year, not because of either’s actions but simply the complications of life, fate through friends we had both made separately after the fact, our paths crossed once more early in the year of 2010, and once again a friendship of quixotic infatuation was formed.


   He came on so strong. terrified me really, the once quiet and self reserved man I had known just a year before I found him speaking of how he would lean into me and whisper to me to let him show me how the world can be upon my knees. To allow him to save me, to make me an only option not one of many as men have done in the past. I was a wounded bird and he held this warmth and fire and passion that I was so unsure of. He made me feel reckless; he made me want to fight. I wanted to fight Him, fight the world, and even fight the haunting memories of my past. I would turn away; tell him I was not a submissive but a strong woman as I had tears within my eyes. He with his warm voice and certain way of loving me for no apparent reason other than pure raw chemistry would explain to me that the strongest of women let themselves know who they really are. Every day we spoke, conversations of life and philosophy and music and heartache and pain. I told him the stories of my life and my past and he did the same with me. I found myself feeling more than love for this man; it was a need a primal animalistic need for him to be happy. I found myself asking myself every day in ever small action no matter how trivial if it would make him happy and pleased, and then, one morning, to his surprise I begged him to not only take me as his love but to allow me the privilege to serve him as a submissive woman and a slave for the rest of my life. He knew as well as I did, he would be my first and last Master, my true natural dominant, and with his words of acceptation I became his property at the end of March 2010, and we began to start the plans for me to move from my home and life, the only life I have ever known in America, to my Master who has spent his life in the Netherlands 7000 miles away.

I find myself recently fascinated with a quote I came across so I feel the need to share it.


"There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees." -Victor Hugo


   I find it says far more then I can about my realization of my submissive nature in far less words and in a far more powerful message.

   This process is terrifying on a level of spontaneity that is beyond the type you would even see in movies or television. He has sent me disks to begin learning to speak Dutch, they are by Rosetta stone and really they teach quite well, I am picking it up quickly and starting to even think in another language which at times shocks me a bit. I have my passport, and am saving up funds so that I will have a small nest egg after the costs for my travel and I am at this time looking towards march of 2011 to make this move, as it is December right now this seems doable with enough concrete planning of course. I feel as it I am a bird that has always had one foot tied to a brick, flapping and fluttering but never able to fly, and soon the man with the power to set my soul free will do so, and I, a bird able to fly will, and then rest without restraints upon the hand that will mold me into his every whim and desire.

    Before continuing I want to make it clear that I am doing this all consensually, and if any readers feel they will be offended with blogging about D/s life, consensual non-consent, vulnerabilities and objectification of a woman, or if any readers will be unsettled by the fact that there will, I am sure, occasionally be posts where I am venting and perhaps upset or a situation may seem shocking to average couples, please understand I am choosing this lifestyle in all aspects both good and bad, and if you feel you will be offended by such content you are not obligated to read this Diary, and I do not need to be saved. With that being said, and my journey into lifestyle slavery being caught up so far, now starts my Diary in steps, first the planning, then the move and then my daily life. The daily recordings. The living Diary of a slave girl.