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Michelle From Hell (1)
44 years old Houston, Texas, United States

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Vetting before Investing in Relationships: article 1

Blog Created: Tuesday, September 27, 2011 6:45:35 PM
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Vetting before Investing in Relationships: article 1
Journal Entry | about 1 hour ago

Vetting before Investing in Relationships is Like Making the Perfect Slice of Thick Cut Bacon

One thing my biological/primary pod – Will, the Kids and myself – and most of my current [and former] Serpentarium family members love is crispy, thick cut bacon. I prefer mine peppered. [If you are ever looking for the best thick cut in the state you really need to go to this little family butchery and stop-n-shop in Sealy, Texas!]

But I didn’t grow up on thick cut. It wasn’t in-style so much back then. Plus, my mother will admit that she lacks the patience for cooking on any setting lower than high and likes thin bacon. She will also admit there was a time frame where she got really over the whole cooking thing. To be fair, she was raised by two very traditional Southern cooks – my grandma and my great-grandma from her side of the family – who taught her how to do everything very old school. I’m talking cast iron skillets, a 1920’s gas stove with a built in broiler AND fryer and lots of chopping things into bite-size pieces before frying or boiling it.

My mom applied those delicious tastes to methods that adapted to a quickened process by using easier modern products [vs. fresh and/or home grown] to the taste pallet for massive heat/fast cooking times. Anything with a dump style recipe were the best because she randomly adds in stuff that she thinks will work – a talent she did pass on to me. This works well because of the seasoning and other tricks we both learned under our elder females skirt tails. [At one point those old ladies raised me full time while my mom was getting life back on track.] Sadly, the adaptively of bacon is not so prospective when it’s cooked in a thin cheap pan, over high electric heat by a distracted person. But it DID teach me to love crispy bacon.

How does this apply to relationships? Well, for me, when I was a kid I was shown several ways to approach a situation, how the differences in each approach could affect the end product of the effort and how I appreciated or preferred the quirks of each method. When
I make a new friend, or look at someone with whom I want to develop a relationship of any sort with, I try to apply these techniques to see how it’s going to grow. There were time frames of my life where I tried different ways, got different results, learned a lot; now I am here to tell what I have learned from all of it.

The expedient stove top cooking continued until we got our first microwave – which came from my Narum grandparents for Xmas the first year they became available to the general public. It was HUGE with knobs you had to turn! They gave one to each of their five natural children, plus one [my mom] adopted former-daughter-in-law [mother of the first grandchild and for many years the only granddaughter], I think because my grandfather worked for Finger’s furniture and got an amazing deal. But in some way, this was their fairness rule – instead of picking an individual big gift they would pick out at badass exact same gift for all of them. They even rapped them the same! All the adult kids had to open them in unison. As a child this taught me how to love my sibling babies equally shown during splurges, even though I was a very spoiled only child in my primary family with my mom and stepdad - and in bio-dad’s life for 15 years before the birth of my half sister.

But if you’ve ever had bacon cooked in a microwave it is not the same. It’s rubbery and gross. Bless her heart my mom did buy those special dishes to improve the performance, but it was never the same. Not the one with the grooves and paper towels. Not the one where the bacon dangles, either. They just do not produce a crispy edge – even if you cook them to a burn. It just gets dry and tasteless!

We got an even better microwave during my teen years. It performed a little better and they came out with microwave bacon…and I was still settling for an end result that didn’t really give me what I really love about bacon in general. Reflecting on those years I realize I had a small group of non-sexual friendships that developed over time and fast burning, wildly abandoned and frequent relationships in terms of lovers/boyfriends. Having things ready and fairly acceptable practically on demand – like microwave bacon – was enough for me. That’s the beauty of growing up at the tail end of the sexual revolution while being “proto-generation-X” --- the eighties! Sometimes I didn’t care if I even knew their name, as long as they fit into what I was hungry for at that time.

My first husband [and the father of my children] had a mother who had four children – much like the size of the Narum family – who used her amazing traditional Southern cooking to feed that family. Being the momma’s boy that he was, he spent a lot of time helping in the kitchen and learning to be a good cook himself. When we got married I didn’t have a ton of daily practice cooking, but had taken every home-ec class in high school – cooking, sewing, typing, parenting and a basic life skills class -- and even spent a time cooking for our family to help my folks when they were both working. [I was trying to save us from frozen dinners. I HATE most of them!] He would watch me cook and just shake his head. It was from them that I learned the proper way to make biscuits, gravies, fried chicken and bacon.

For great thin bacon – for even with their country ways they still didn’t use thick – you need a traditional, well-seasoned cast iron skillet. If you are using gas, turn the heat about half the height of high, and let the pan heat up while you cut open the package of bacon or get the open one from the fridge. They taught me to be sure the pieces are set out a little bit apart. [My mom would just dump it into a pan, making it crumpled/folded.] When I realized this was how my grandma and great grandma would end up with my preferred straight strips of bacon, I knew I would learn these adaptations to improve my bacon cooking skills.

I saw the correct hue of brown to look for to know when to pull the bacon out of the skillet so it cools to the yummy crispiness I love. The trick is mainly the lower heat. But my stove was electric. I had to learn what setting was as close in time as the gas at half light. Since we lived in funky apartments the stoves were not always the best. Often the burners had irregular temperatures and I still struggled with mastering bacon.

When I met that husband, I was only 19. I knew I was raised to be more independent and mature then most of my peers because of my dualist childhood. [That’s a different story. Some of my long-term readers could expand on and probably something I will explain further in a different piece.] I felt destined in many ways to settle down with this man six years my senior, as we shared so much in common. Settling down is like an oxymoronic term, as we were free spirits who only kind of acted settled.

We were both artists who did some professional modeling and performing. We both wanted to be apart from our families but near enough to stay involved with them. Each of us enjoyed the beautiful people club life/subculture of the eighties – and all the drugs, alcohol and sexual varieties that were available at the time. We had violent, abandoned and experimental moments before and after the kids started being born. He was a designer who did everything from furniture, to interiors and clubs. We worked together on much of the art used, but he got all the credit for it because everyone just wrote me off the moment they heard I was a stripper. It was the culmination of my wild child side coming to the forefront with an apparently equal partner in crime and a perfect co-dependant. Together we tried to fry the bacon on those quirky stoves, until I finally figured out another method of making it work for me.

I moved in ONE WEEK after getting to know him very little. Our first child was conceived eight months after that. But because through him and his family I had learned perfect bacon meant taking my time and learning the quirks to make it work, it lasted six years. I really tried. I also learned to do many things differently to improve my life and the lives of my kids. This meant I could use another method of putting meals together for all of us.

It is actually quite simple to perfect skinny bacon in an oven broiler! The strips lay out straight and the grease drains off, if you use a broiler pan. The temperature stays pretty even and if you watch it closely, it is pretty simple to avoid burning it. Having to feed my kids made the difference here. I didn’t have the time to jack with the pan. I was sick of the issues for the burners. I was also sick of that wild life. As my first husband put it when I told him I wanted a divorcé, “But I am the SAME man you married!” to which I had to reply, “I know. That’s the problem. I am not the same GIRL you married. I have grown up. I can’t do this anymore.” No more skillets for this broiler girl!

After that divorce I went back to college and single parented for about a year before meeting the man with whom I would discover thick bacon. Before my divorce I had moved into what had been my grandma and great grandma’s house where I had also lived as a teenager with my mom and stepfather. Only now I was a single mom, room-mother/frequent class helper AND art student. With the kids always spending weekends with one of the grandparents or their father, I got to be a little wild but was fairly cautious near the end because I had made some very poor choices and so I made a list.

He came along when I was looking for someone who would be dominant enough in personality to meet my sexual desires. [It had become clear during my sexual experimentation years that I was definitely kinky and it was natural to me.] He also had to be very intelligent, as it was very obvious during my first marriage that I had the brains of that dynamic. I’d been the dominant behind my first husband’s back and subversively in our relationship. I was sick of having to do all the thinking. I wanted something extreme and new with a person who would bring some sort of consistency to our lives. Plus I wanted someone with whom I felt the need to challenge to see if he could take me.

Enter Satan – as I have referred to him for years to protect his identity and avoid him threatening a law suit because he’s that kind of jerk – a man who on paper looked right. He was an honor student in the science department. He was a cocky, egotistical domineering man. He was also sober for many years and I had learned in high school that the way for me to manage an education it was easier for me to surround myself with other friends of Bill W. I knew we would learn from each other, but I never expected to learn a great deal about what I wanted and did not want in a life long partnership during those three years. While we discussed getting married and grad school in El Paso, in my heart I knew there was something really hinkier than kinkier.

I also didn’t rush in – or so I thought. I waited six months before allowing him to move in. At first it was delicious, but in the long run it turned out to be one of the most emotionally abusive relationships I endured. We were very different people with retarded points of view about monogamy. I had already experienced some polyarmory in my first marriage and had relationships with a woman, a cross-dressing drug dealer and various accepting friends with benefits during the time after my divorce. I was used to having perfect bacon that was fairly quickly broiled. He changed me. I began to have very backwards ideas under the guise of being involved with someone with whom I had adventures, tried new foods for and strived to develop a standard for friendships and immediate relationships/us as lovers.

During this time I was cooking on my grandmother’s old stove. After all those years of being used the broiler required a heavy metal bar to pry it open, he demanded commanding it because he told me I was too clumsy to manage it. Never mind that I had before he moved in. But hey it was a break at times! Sadly short cuts always mean having to settle for someone else controlling the end results. He liked his bacon less done then I do. If I complained he would begrudgingly leave it on longer or force me to watch it with very little warning before it crossed the thin line between burned and crispy! It used to really piss me off.

The upside of that stove was that not only did it have gas burners, but I was also left the cast iron skillet from my childhood. This all came about because my grandma had to leave her trailer on 211 acres in Sealy, so she bought that huge house -- where we held most of the House Viper parties’ years later -- with my mom and my wonderful step-father. We took our large group of college friends up to the land for parties where we camped, shared meals and shot guns. Some of the group drank but many of us were sober. It was the closest thing to poly I could develop during that time. I thought many of those friendships would be life long we were so close. There were certain ones who really took the time to get to know me over him because of his attitude for us all. [It was a cool mix of science minds and artistic types.] Some even called out the bullshit to each of us because we did everything together in and out of school. I expected them to be mine in the end because I had brought them all together. I even fixed up a few with their spouses!

I returned to parts of my childhood self in a house that reminded me of taking care of others, rough and rowdy fights and the strength of women by having to return to old school, time consuming bacon techniques I had learned under their wings. I came to realize that if a relationship was costing me was more then any of the benefits, and I was still making the effort failingly, it was not worth fighting for. I spent the first year hoping he could change the few clear points I saw from the beginning. He wasn’t just grouchy to me but also to my kids. My good friends were freaked out by different I had become from having to walk on egg shells all the time. That never went away and only evolved and spread like a virus through the whole relationship. By the time we discovered the previously mentioned meat market in Sealy, and the thick bacon, it was really too late.

It couldn’t replace the joy he had taken out of my life nor was it enough to fill the void. Besides I had my own SUV and make that drive any time I wanted. As the final burst of rebellion I offered to move to my folks place for the final two weeks of the fall semester of each of our senior years to give him the time to pack his shit and get out. I didn’t give a fuck if he did have the flu AND finals. What a stupid cunt I was huh? Thick bacon is actually very hardy…full of meat…but expensive – yet always worth the price.

One thing I discovered after that break up is even if you think you’ve earned a friendship -- during a break up, you better not start a relationship with someone too quick. Even if they didn’t have any problems with him personally and some had encouraged me to cheat on Satan – and one in particular with whom I did cheat with right at the end to prove to myself I was still desirable – most of the close group went with pathetic Satan. I got my best female friend, another female I met because of him, a couple that were publicly kinky and HIS best friend. With my best friend and that I other female friend, after an introduction to the BDSM scene by the couple, I embarked on the next 13 years of my life.

The man I was with was into open relationships. We talked about seriousness but with the clause that we would maintain two households if this progressed to marriage. He was a writer who day jobbed as a waiter in a fine dining place. My best friend and I could hang out and cruise the hob-nobbers with his complete approval. I continued to get more involved in the community. I began to model, after graduation it began to become a real career possibility – Humanities/Art degree regardless. I dated several men. Most of my bacon came from eating out during that year or so. When I discovered I was not as thrilled with bottoming and with a rotten taste in my mouth for what Satan had expected of me by his own definition of a slave, this relationship degenerated when he basically had a major meltdown. I wasn’t devastated this time. He made sure of that by making a complete ass of himself around my thirtieth birthday.

I went back to dating feeling like a commodity after all I was being exposed to as a darling of the Houston BDSM community. Once I switched sides to Top, a whole world opened up! I began advertising online about me and my tastes. I met all kinds of boys. I hung out with equally adventuresome females. Yet I still wanted to have a husband. Only this time the bar was raised higher. I wouldn’t be bought cheap. I knew I had extreme value and the next man would have to be my equal while being in a position to allow me to enjoy this new world I had only begun to explore. That’s when I met hubby number two – Lord Viper.

I didn’t feel desperate. I was willing to take baby steps. I let him get to know my friends and families [vanilla and leather] before I got too attached. We were both divorced and had lived with people before meeting, so we knew the path would take us the right direction if we just allowed it. To impress him I began cooking again. He in turn encouraged me to buy the best bacon available, even if it was fattening or expensive. My nurturing side returned and I worked on building a leather family of my own as time went on. We waited a year to get married by his suggestion, but we did move in together to the big house about a month and a half after meeting. He didn’t want to admit we may have jumped into much too much financially because his business was growing at an amazing speed. We lived like royalty. I became a Princess in the scene AND the paintball community where our family oriented business was staffed with our blended kinky paintball family. I was cooking all the time at any given hour – either during all night pre-event evenings or following hours of entertaining the various groups that used our venue. But I was back on the same electric burners that annoyed me in the beginning of my life. So I returned to the broiler trick. Since I had two ovens this allowed me to feed twenty people plus at any given moment.

Because of our businesses keeping us living dualistic lives, I was able to still be a great mom to my kids. I went back to room-mothering with most people thinking the strangest thing about us was how we looked – long hairs [mine purple] with tattoos – and we owned an extreme sport business and shop. I had the freedom to travel with him, friendships that loved and adored me for all sides of me. I spent time developing and honing my networks before letting anyone into my dark side. My vetting process became a sharp standard for my immediate relationships. I mastered making bacon by mastering so many technique variations. I took my time to develop relationships with strong foundations based on mutual trust, sharing a goal of building each up with hard work and never tiring support by applying those life lessons. I honed my vetting skills to quickly weed out those who didn’t have what it took to make the cut before I invested the privacy of my family, our social circles and our businesses into anyone. Life had taught me well. It helped me become a strong leader and better event producer.

I built my reputation in my community and began to train as a ProDom, while still working along side him as his business took a massive down turn thanks to a flooding of the paintball market. After the house fire we were struggling to keep it all together. I was resenting the paintball subculture and wanted to spend more time in my world. He wasn’t any happier with me, but out of love and conviction for each to feel successful in marriage, we each tried to adapt things to make our lives easier. I learned I could make smaller batches of bacon in an electric skillet with perfect control of the temperature with ease. My friends – what became The Sepentarium – and I ate a shit ton of bacon during those years!
The best conversations are usually over late night breakfasts in my world, but they can make it clear how different people expectations about honesty, loyalty and insurability affect the deepness of a connection I can develop with them. Somehow what looked perfect on the outside became me clawing my mind for a reason to leave. As my former second once said, “He knows he can beat you and you will stay – and maybe even like it again. He knows he can have sex and relationships with any woman – some you may even drop right into his lap – and you won’t leave. The only way he could drive you away was to take away your sense of security.” After all, we both knew how this deal was negotiated from the start. I should have known it would also be doomed. My family was only being true to what I asked of them by pointing out the obvious.

He was just too damn hip and had to get the jump on the rest of America – his way of out doing the Joneses – so we became one of the first people I knew to go through refinancing ourselves out of the house, bankruptcy, repossession and divorce. I went back to being a single mom, only now my Fetish career – modeling, movies, sessions and web work HAD to pay all the bills. I had less time for things like cooking, if I didn’t have someone in service to handle such menial tasks. Real princesses never do.

Luckily a close kink friend had turned me on to the George Foreman grill! Talk about the easiest and most perfect thick bacon ever!! So simple even the dumbest slave ever could manage to not fuck up my food after only one lesson!!! Instead of taking care of myself – as I felt too busy to bother with that – I developed rapid connections to VERY wrong people whom I didn’t vet quickly enough. Ugh. I still get sick thinking about how being so devastated by everything around that divorce – and the loss of my best slave right before it – brought out the worst aspects of MICHELLEFROMHELL. She’s so fucking toxic in full time full bitch mode!! When I finally maxed out on her, I began to slow my life back down.

I began to downsize. I lowered my friend count and cancelled most of my social commitments from a leadership position. I withdrew more. I began to eat more bacon at friend’s homes. I taught my kids to use the Foreman, convincing them it was a rite of passage. I needed time to pull myself together so I stopped dating. I focused on performing and developing Summer Sinfest. I wasn’t thinking a man would be needed – nor did I have space for one in the new apartment. Then I met Will.

Will is old school in a young body. He likes a woman to take care of him in some ways, while returning the favor even better in others. I admit I originally planned for him to be a one month stand because he told me upfront that he was moving to Austin at that time. I figured our 15 year age difference and the distance would force us to end things quickly. Once I figured out I could seriously and passionately love him, I begged him to move back from Austin. He kept delaying me saying it wasn’t time yet. After we’d been together almost a year and a half or two, the fates created the perfect storm for his return. By this time I already knew my friends and family loved him too. He’d proven a perfect companion, a dedicated AlphaBoy for me and not the crappy type I’d been picking before we began playing house.

We’ve had some big ups and downs. When its basic family time the bacon is done by any one of us in the Foreman, but when I am alone with him I pull out the big pan and even take the time to cut the strips in half before putting them in. I stand there and flip each one a few times so no side is more perfect then the other. It seems to take forever but it is so worth it. Not only does it taste great, but it makes us both appreciate what we have built over time. Very rarely do we burn a batch, and when we do – we just make more.

When getting to know someone, flip them frequently to avoid getting burned. If things are getting done too quickly – turn the heat down. Don’t forget to tell people how you like it and listen when they do the same. Bacon makes most people smile. If you can’t master one technique to make the perfect breakfast/lunch/snack/dinner in the kitchen you have, try applying another method, if you really want the best bacon while learning to make it with the different tools as your disposal. If pork is underdone it can make you very sick, so be sure to learn the right shade for it to be perfected no sooner then 3 minutes – even on the highest heat or even the microwave – if you are one of those folks who still eat that crap. Nor is it wise to leave it out over night or cook if in the fridge beyond its expiration date!

Doesn’t it make more sense to invest the time and energy so that it is even better when you are savoring the fruits – or in this case the bacon – of your labor? If you are going to allow yourself one mildly over-priced luxury a month, shouldn’t it be the kind – and way – you have always loved the most? Oh and never forget if you go into a Jewish deli anywhere and ask for a bacon sandwich expect to either get offered beef bacon or be stared at like you are a complete idiot, especially if it’s Kosher. I made that mistake in New York City of all places. Luckily I was with Satan’s ex-best-friend, who is now so well vetted that he’s the Godfather to my kids and my if we are both not married/committed to someone else back up for my golden year’s person. We laughed, walked out and went to the Lebanese place next door. It was yummy!

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