I’ve been tied up hundreds of times but one thing I’ve noticed is that quite often the anticipation of being tied up is the best part. I’d go so far as to say that that’s almost a general rule in life, that the time leading up to something is better than the occasion itself. I’ve always liked the days and hours leading up to a special event, before anything has happened. For me that can often be the best part.

This certainly applies to holidays. I always enjoy the stretch of holidays from Halloween till the end of the year but it’s the day or two before each holiday that’s the most enjoyable. December 23rd is better than Christmas Eve or the 25th itself. And December 30th is almost better than New Year’s Eve, knowing that it’ll be here shortly. Similarly, the afternoon of New Year’s Eve is better than the actual evening. I always find myself wishing I could drag out those preceding days and make them last twice as long. In a similar way, I’ve mentioned my ol’ friend Kelly before, with whom I watch old movies and enjoy some wine or champagne. She’s very old so sometimes she’s not feeling up to getting together and when she has to postpone I’m okay with it as it just drags out the visit for another week or two (though if she postpones too often I start to worry about her). But once I see her again the clock is ticking and before you know it I have to leave, which is always a little bittersweet because I know she’s not going to be around forever.

Andy Warhol, whom I found intriguing when I was young, certainly understood anticipation: “The idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting.” On desire he wrote: “The most exciting thing is not-doing-it. If you fall in love with someone and never do it, it’s much more exciting.” And one of his best: “Fantasy love is much better than reality love.” Warhol wrote a weird little book back in the 70s called “The Philosophy of Andy Warhol,” which I somehow came across when I was a teenager and that sentence about fantasy versus reality got stuck in my head. I still think he’s right. As I’ve said before about bondage, the reality of it can rarely live up to the fantasy, especially for those of us who have bondage fantasies that are strict and extreme and that really wouldn’t be that much fun if we were forced to endure them for real.

One other area where anticipation is the best part is with drinking. I enjoy having some wine a few times a month, but I usually avoid overdoing it the way I would as a teenager, or even just ten years ago when I was able to tolerate it much better. Nowadays, less is usually more since the recovery the next day can be so rough! (And yes, whenever I indulge, I drink plenty of water afterwards and take some aspirin before I go to bed, but my tolerance just isn’t what it used to be.) But again, the best parts of enjoying wine are the moments leading up to the first sip: knowing that you’re going to have a drink that evening, opening the bottle with that satisfying pop and pouring it in the wine glasses, handing a glass to your friend (social drinking is way better than solitary drinking), and then having that first sip. But really the whole experience peaks within the first fifteen minutes once you start to feel the wine go to your head. After that it’s all downhill, and if you try to chase that feeling by drinking more and more it easily reaches a point where it’s just not fun anymore. Calling it quits with one glass is a good rule though I have mixed success doing that. In any case, there’s no need to worry about me overdoing it, in case you’re wondering. I probably only indulge about four times a month, but then I’ll also have months where I don’t have a single drink at all. But again, it’s almost always the leading-up moments that are the best.

It’s also been a while since I’ve been tied up. I know it’ll happen eventually. Usually, I’ll start thinking of bondage once I have an outfit that excites me and that makes me start thinking about shooting a new self-bondage video. But again, it’s the lead up that’s the best part. It’s not till I was probably in my forties that I started to notice this trend but now I’d say it’s almost a rule, with the accompanying desire to slow down time and savor the moment. In the meantime, I’ll probably visit my friend again this weekend and bring some champagne, though there have been a few evenings (though not many) where I just never get around to indulging. In a zen way either outcome is fine.