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I'm very lucky. Sure, I'm struggling with some work stuff and some writer stuff, but that's life.
This weekend was filled with alternative social events, in that I did things I rarely or never do, including with new people. On Friday, I went to dinner at Udupi Palace and then to eight:18's Circus of the Spirit, which included photographs from a not-so famous actor and some of the most fabulous people-watching I've experienced in a long time. On Saturday, I went to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
foxycoxy's dance performance and then a summer themed birthday party where we (Foxy, me, and Bread Loaf) were possibly the only ones who took the theme seriously. I received a a few compliments on my plaid pants from people who didn't even realize I was wearing a 'costume'. I walked into the party and knew one person there (who wasn't one of the people I came with). But then as I circulated and started seeing familiar faces and having some good conversation with acquaintances that I'd never talked to one-on-one. BreadLoaf and I stayed longer then expected then went home to bed.
I'm not really going in chronoological order. I'm not even sure if I can capture everything from the weekend. On Saturday afternoon I had lunch with Miss Rook and then we went shopping and I will have to tell the story of the shoe salesmen and our perversity later. On Sunday morning, I pulled myself out of bed to go to meditation and it was horrible. It was an atypical service, with no sitting meditation and no informal dharma talk, but instead some high-end recitation which was hard to absorb and not the type of spiritual renewal I needed. They did play the huge drum which I love, except it was little intense. BreadLoaf and I were miserable and reacting as if physically hungover even though neither one of us consumed anything the night before. I dragged him with me to the grocery story afterwards, then we had a quick bite to eat and a really good clarifying overdue conversation before parting ways for the afternoon.
Then I did lots of laundry and some straightening up and cleaning and watched the movie The Italian Job. I love capers. Especially well-filmed ones with pretty people in them. Especially Mos Def (even though I wasn't feeling his hair) and Edward Norton (even though I wasn't feeling his facial hair). It wasn't an amazing movie, but it was fun.
Last night's bondage workshop was essentially cancelled, so I just stayed for a drink with Edith Edit and others and then I took my date home. The initial plan was tying him up at the workshop, then throwing him in the car and taking him home to do more dirty things. It ended up more lowkey then that, but still hot hot hot! That boy has an amazing mouth on him and I don't mean that in just one euphemistic way. He was also patient and tolerant of my whining dog, which I appreciated. Such a sexy, sensual, talented, responsive, hot boy. I was so grateful to have him in my bed. Yum. I'm so very lucky.
[p.s. for those trying to play along with the home version of the Raybear GameTM, my date last night was NOT the Reader Bootycall Boy from last week. Though that reminds me, he called over the weekend and I might have to write about that later.]
Now I just have to make it throw the workday and then I will be picking updommeyourass who's probably on the plane right now. Her flight is supposed to land right around 4:31 pm (I'm now stalking her flight via the airline website). I know she will be exhausted and jet-lagged tonight, but if she's up to it, we'll go right over to tango class. Otherwise I might just tuck her right into bed and try not to eat her up while she's sleeping.
This weekend was filled with alternative social events, in that I did things I rarely or never do, including with new people. On Friday, I went to dinner at Udupi Palace and then to eight:18's Circus of the Spirit, which included photographs from a not-so famous actor and some of the most fabulous people-watching I've experienced in a long time. On Saturday, I went to
foxycoxy's dance performance and then a summer themed birthday party where we (Foxy, me, and Bread Loaf) were possibly the only ones who took the theme seriously. I received a a few compliments on my plaid pants from people who didn't even realize I was wearing a 'costume'. I walked into the party and knew one person there (who wasn't one of the people I came with). But then as I circulated and started seeing familiar faces and having some good conversation with acquaintances that I'd never talked to one-on-one. BreadLoaf and I stayed longer then expected then went home to bed.I'm not really going in chronoological order. I'm not even sure if I can capture everything from the weekend. On Saturday afternoon I had lunch with Miss Rook and then we went shopping and I will have to tell the story of the shoe salesmen and our perversity later. On Sunday morning, I pulled myself out of bed to go to meditation and it was horrible. It was an atypical service, with no sitting meditation and no informal dharma talk, but instead some high-end recitation which was hard to absorb and not the type of spiritual renewal I needed. They did play the huge drum which I love, except it was little intense. BreadLoaf and I were miserable and reacting as if physically hungover even though neither one of us consumed anything the night before. I dragged him with me to the grocery story afterwards, then we had a quick bite to eat and a really good clarifying overdue conversation before parting ways for the afternoon.
Then I did lots of laundry and some straightening up and cleaning and watched the movie The Italian Job. I love capers. Especially well-filmed ones with pretty people in them. Especially Mos Def (even though I wasn't feeling his hair) and Edward Norton (even though I wasn't feeling his facial hair). It wasn't an amazing movie, but it was fun.
Last night's bondage workshop was essentially cancelled, so I just stayed for a drink with Edith Edit and others and then I took my date home. The initial plan was tying him up at the workshop, then throwing him in the car and taking him home to do more dirty things. It ended up more lowkey then that, but still hot hot hot! That boy has an amazing mouth on him and I don't mean that in just one euphemistic way. He was also patient and tolerant of my whining dog, which I appreciated. Such a sexy, sensual, talented, responsive, hot boy. I was so grateful to have him in my bed. Yum. I'm so very lucky.
[p.s. for those trying to play along with the home version of the Raybear GameTM, my date last night was NOT the Reader Bootycall Boy from last week. Though that reminds me, he called over the weekend and I might have to write about that later.]
Now I just have to make it throw the workday and then I will be picking up
dommeyourass who's probably on the plane right now. Her flight is supposed to land right around 4:31 pm (I'm now stalking her flight via the airline website). I know she will be exhausted and jet-lagged tonight, but if she's up to it, we'll go right over to tango class. Otherwise I might just tuck her right into bed and try not to eat her up while she's sleeping.
