May Ling Su

Plums

Originally uploaded by maylingsu.

Our plum tree was so heavy with clusters of fruit weighing the branches down and hitting my head everytime I walked past it. Juicy delicious! Wee one learned to say, “Pit!” and take the plum pit out with tiny fingers smeared with dark red fruit ooze. There were so many plums we had to give bags of them away to neighbors and friends.

The CD album of the summer was Life Pursuit by Belle and Sebastian. Wee one loves music and demands “Po’ Boy, Po’ Boy,” more formally known as “White Collar Boy,” every waking hour.

The book of the summer was “Where The Wild Things Are” by Maurice Sendak. I read that book aloud with howls and grunts every night. A close second was “The Missing Piece” by Shel Silverstein, parts of which I sing with my own made-up melody. It gave me a lump in my throat the first time I read it through and Wee One picked up on it and wept. I am amazed at our psychic connection. The few times I’ve left the house alone, Jay told me that from sound slumber, Wee One wakes running toward the front door crying, “Mama!”

I got a new old book today titled “Story of the Eye” by Georges Bataille. (Thanks, Pris!!! :-D) I’m loving it! Chapter Twelve dealt with the similar confessional fantasy I had written about (it’s a classic!), only this 1928 pornographic prose is so much nastier and radically more irreverent than I allow myself to be.

We’re getting the last of the hot sunny days here in the SF Bay Area. We need to figure out where we’re going and what we’re doing soon. I posted photos I took around our home, a coin tossed toward the stars with a wish for the future.

I got a myspace account. I’ve actually had it earlier this year but had no idea what to do with it. Like I need another website to update. But recently I found some friends there and suddenly I’m inspired to make something of myspace. It’s been fun building my little page, uploading pics, songs and videos. Check it out! If you’re on myspace, too, invite me to be your friend so I can get to know you better. Cheers!

From: XXXXXXXX@aol.com
To: maylingsu@onmyperiod.com
Subject: On My Period Email
Date: Wed, 13 Sep 2006 20:12:52 EDT

hi i am a big menstrual fetish lover i love to wear used menstrual maxie pads that are very bloody i masterbate on them it feels so good can u help me find a suppleir to fill my fetish

My reply:

Hello, I believe you’ve written me about this request before. I appreciate your interest, but I don’t provide this service. I don’t personally know anyone who provides this service. Good luck on your search!

What I mentioned to Jay but didn’t write this person is how funny I found the phrase “find a supplier to fill my fetish.” I realize this person was just trying to appear formal in his request, but it evoked images of warehouses and freezers full of used period products sealed in bags. Maybe I should make a sci-fi movie about this. I could play the part of a gangster specializing in black market trade of used period products worn by illegal immigrants. That’s pretty fucking funny!

I am so sick of people passing judgement on my period work to make them feel superior about themselves. Never mind that they enjoy fucking on their periods, or that they hate having their periods, or that they have self-esteem issues, or that they’ve been divorced several times, or that they are martini parents who say mean things to their kids, or that they’re on prescription antidepressants, or that they need to get a life. When they write hurtful things about me, they can feel good about themselves for a brief moment.

That said, I can take a deep breath and think that in a way, I am glad that my work is potent enough to affect people in a deep and profound way. People, especially women, are either liberated and empowered by my work, or they are utterly disgusted. What amateur critics don’t realize is that my work is only a mirror reflecting who they are. People’s reactions betray their strengths or weaknesses. My work polarizes people. There is no in between. This ain’t no landscape art people thoughtlessly pass by at the office. You won’t find this in suburban art fairs next to badly drawn charcoal portraits of children and dogs. I would rather be criticized than ignored.

I’ve only seen this behavior in New York City. Twice.

The first time I was walking in Times Square with a girl friend. Possibly the most crowded place on earth. I was wearing a tiny red dress. It was summertime. This guy kept following us. I thought maybe he wanted to pass us, so I slowed down to let him through. He slowed down, too. I sped up to lose him. He kept up the pace. Finally I turned around to confront him. He unzipped, got his dick out and jacked off right in front of me. “Ewww!” I shrieked and jaywalked across the street to avoid getting splattered. I told Jay about it that night and he said I was lucky he didn’t have a knife or a gun and try to mug us. Then he said the guy probably got the reaction he wanted anyway. Anyone who does that is in it for the shrieks.

Second time I was in a subway station waiting for the uptown train. Across on the downtown platform was a guy with his dick hanging out jacking off right there. At least there was more than ten feet between us, but Jeezus!

Here in San Francisco I’ve only seen shriveled up dicks on naked old guys at costume parties. (Why is it never the hot ones that show up naked in public places?)

“Fuck” means fork.

“Poon” means spoon.

If you’re wondering what I’ve been up to the past two weeks, well, keep wondering because I myself don’t know.

We’re considering moving. Not to New York City again, though we fancy that once in a while. We have some lifelong friends there and I know the city like the back of my hand, but I guess I’m looking for an adventure. Something new.

LA is a city I don’t know yet. I have some friends there too, and everytime we come down there something exciting always happens for us.

There’s also the option of moving all the way back to the Philippines, where I was born and grew up. It would be nice to raise my kid in Asia, learning several Asian languages as well as English. But that might be too much upheaval.

(more…)

Jay has been locked up in his studio working on Halloween Flash animations all week. Then this weekend, he is locked up in his studio working on a science project.

I’ve been entertaining myself with hentai anime, wishing I had a pet monster with phallus-shaped tentacles. I wouldn’t want to tame him… I’d like him to go wild and throw everything we own on the floor. Then tear all my clothes off, squeeze my parts, milk me and shove his tentacles into all of my sockets. Naughty monster!

I’m not desperate yet, just a really horny housewife with no one to play with but myself. I decided to do some milking of my own.

Milky May WMV