closetohome-16

I’m getting used to this posting-more-often thing.  And so even though I don’t have much time to write what I want to write, I’m posting.

I talked to R. last night after a week of exchanging serious emails with him.  I needed the conversation; I’d been having so many sad, grieving dreams about us that I hadn’t been able to sleep through the night on Wednesday and Thursday.  He calmed me down enough so that I can just be for awhile, just do my thing, and let him do his.  That’s good.

As for my thing, I’m heading out tonight to hang out with a woman R. and I met last Thanksgiving.  She’s smart and kinky and kind, so I’m looking forward to that.  And to the chance to see a new place.  Hell, I’m even looking forward to the DRIVE.

I’m not looking forward to getting lost, though.  When I went to have dinner with the women the other night, I got thoroughly lost, and finally resorted to calling my family to get them to google directions for me.  This happens virtually every time I drive somewhere, and it’s only getting worse with time.  My mother’s entire family wanders through the world in a daze of lost-ness, while my dad’s side is more oriented.  On this occasion, my sister, who has a grid in her head, managed to give me perfect directions, complete with landmarks, by looking at a map on the computer in her office, 2,000 miles away from where I was.  I would have hated her if she hadn’t been so nice and I hadn’t been so very fucked.  So today I’m getting a map–if I don’t flake out and forget.

That’s about it.  I’m feeling lucky to be alive, and happy, which is about all anyone can ask for.

And I’m feeling glad that I found this photo gallery–The Night Day, with photos by Keffer, via ponyXpress.

Edit: I just realized that might be a hookah pipe next to the woman in the picture.  I was thinking it was a whip.  Shows where my mind flows . . .

For our purposes, let’s pretend it’s a whip, okay??  Thanks.