I'd like to thank all the folks who read this journal, who encounter me on 3WA, and other places, who were so generous to me on my birthday on the 9th. In the usual sense, it was the most underwhelming birthday I've had in a long time, but the surprising and overwhelming cards, gifts out of the blue, family cookbooks, and such, primarily from many people I've never met... I was quite touched and feel deep gratitude. Actually, Amazon continues to deliver even today. I'm quite thankful.
Nia dropped off some shelves she and her hub didn't need anymore a few weeks back, and I finally was able to get them customized to use. They're standard erector-set pine IKEA stuff. Damn nice improvement for me. A friend came over, the artist WS Fisher, and let me feed him in exchange for his wood working skills in altering the shelves. I did bulgogi, yakamandu, and a fruit mix. I have two of his prints on my wall already and he was nice enough to bring me his portfolio so I could purchase another. Yummy stuff. He just sent me a couple of images to use here so that folks could see why I like his work so much.
Great stuff, eh? He sent me these in b/w for bandwidth, but he generally hand colors the prints and yeah, I sound like a pimp cuz I really like his work. He's one of the world's nice people and a marvelous artist. On the left is a sketch entitled Succubus VII, and the one on the right of the lovely ravaging a gargoyle is V's Fantasy. [There are a few more, all in color, if you follow the link at his name up above.] Obviously, every single molecule of the art is copyright by WS Fisher, and if anyone violates his copyright I'll find you. Play nice, folks.
Friday evening I met KSlave at an old favorite place, Snappy Dragon. When I used to live in that neighborhood I'd get Snappy Dragon food either eat in or carry out several times a week, and have always loved it. I pulled into my parking just as she was coming up the sidewalk, and we had a pleasant dinner - the food, company, and conversation.
After fortune cookies we headed on back to my place, which was and is, quite embarrassingly, a disorganized construction zone. Stacks of videos here, books there, CDs, DVDs, all in staging for the new shelving. I managed to find a kitchen chair that became a mummification rack for the night. I brought out a bunch of toys I've picked up over time - hemostats, ratcheted oral speculums, wartenberg wheel, spring loaded calipers, and a few other thingies. I do have to admit that once I was kneeling between her legs manually diddling with her nether bits she kept breaking out laughing. All my fault. She had picked a Mozart album to listen to and when I hear music as great as the Blue Danube I just have to conduct. Apparently that can be humorously attention-getting when the hands you are conducting with are inserted vaginally to the palm. Whodathunkit? Afterwards, she was kind and gentle with the results of my Viagra hopefulness.
[[ Ya know, sometimes this lengthy update kinda entry is as exhausting as, well, ... doing the dishes twice a month, or taking your laundry to the coin-op every four weeks or such. I'm certain there is a lesson to learn somewhere in this.... ]]
Argh. Saturday was good, and Saturday was exhausting. I had to be up early to drive to Mayberry to see "I have a date at 11am so you gotta be here earlier" Vamp. I made it in plenty of time - did you know she can actually make a startled chirping noise when you call from the burger joint around the corner and tell her you're two minutes out? We had enough time to dish a bit, throwing gossip around while she was writing out directions to the thrift store. She got one thing right - she told me, "I give lousy directions but when you get over there a ways and get lost anyone you ask will be able to tell you where the Blahblah Mall is." That's exactly what did happen.
The thrift store would only hold the chair I'd paid for last week for seven days. It's not really a wheelchair, but actually more of a 'geri chair', used in nursing homes for geriatric patients. It's large enough that the footrest is the only thing that fit in the smallmouth trunk opening of the Honda, so I used 50 yards of twine, set the cruise control on 58 mph, and eased on north peeking in the rear view mirror. It was a long, hard, hot, hot, long... it was a very draining drive.
By the time I got home I was pablum. I finally went to bed about 9pm or so and decided that if I woke from a nap I'd head down to schmooze at the Wet Spot, and if I didn't wake up til morning I would have needed it. Half past 10pm I woke and went in to the Spot to flirt and schmooze and chat and stuff. The only thing remotely playlike was when one long haired girl and I exchanged hair combings for about 20-30 minutes each.
Sunday - today - I mostly recovered from Saturday. I finally put clothes on late in the afternoon when I went out onto the patio to call Lisa on my cell [which works poorly in my basement hermitage]. She helped me access her personal cam and then gave me a guided tour of her condo, I met her dog, looked out the window at the neighborhood - I feel like a guest in the house and I've never even been to her town! When I finally realized how late it had gotten [I had to be ready for a dinner guest] it turns out we'd been chatting an hour and a half. Sheesh! What a great gal.
My guest tonite - who just left for home - was David, Panther's boyfriend. It was simple guy food - Weber'd beef ribs, corn on the cob, and a mix of asparagus, garlic, smoked gouda, tomato, shallot, & zucchini wrapped with chunks of butter in tin foil on the grill. He brought some coffee so we sipped fresh French Roast before and & Earl Grey after. Since he moved out here from back east he and I haven't really had an opportunity to get to know each other and tonight we made up a good bit of that room. Plus I bought a pair of tickets off of him for the Mariners vs Yankees in August, when he and his entourage will be on vacation in Europe.
By the way - I've gone through the Slut Diary and changed one name. For well over a year I've been calling the lady who was my lover and partner last year 'Chloe'. When we started seeing each other she had a stalker, and it simply made sense. In the ensuing time she has become quite well known in the local community and in the world of online diarists simply under her real name, 'Nia'. She and I chatted today and agreed that at this point it just makes sense to be consistent. Hence, Nia it is.
I'm feeling better about myself, about my life, about my latest realization of my faults and needs and desires, every day. That's all part of why I can continue to tell you daily that Life Is Good. Pass it on.