A Few Days Pass...

Bobby drove down yesterday to help me move the bed and TV yesterday. He's now the official expert on packing & moving my shit. I've got my reservation in for a year from now when my lease is up. =) Something funny during the drive in between the two locations. We were crossing over Culver and a boy in a red truck was sitting in traffic in the opposite direction. As soon as I saw him, I started looking in my rear view mirror because I know how Bobby is with boys & trucks. Sure enough, within seconds he was transfixed on this boy. I actually watched his head crook all the way around as his truck drove by. I started laughing harder than I have in a long time. It tickled the force I laughed with. We had dinner at The Olive Garden and I got the first peek at his designs. Tremendous. I love his ideas, the theories behind the clothes. He combines a sort of racy elegance with classic sexy. My talent lies in my writing, his in his ideas and designs. It's where our passions are. I love that we have this creative side to share.

He compares me to his mother. I've never met her. I want to. I want to organize a Mother's Day event where all of we who are friends can have our mothers interact. Disaster? Naw. I think it would be fantastic and fun. In fact, I should start the pre-planning now, shop for the invites, think of a place for a brunch and get reservations in order. hehehe... that's a good project to invest my mind into now. ((Because moving is winding down.))

I have my new room organized. The bed is in place. The shelf has the radio on it. The closet shelves are holding the boxes that sat in my last closet: a box of "scrap book" memorabilia that needs to be sorted, a box of elementary school stuff, a box of my past day planner pages & hand written journals. The TV sits on the floor without the cables to hook it up yet. There's my casual, kick-back IKEA chair next to the nightstand next to the bed. It already has a cozy feel....just not lived in. I haven't yet. I have my clothes, toiletries and computer at the old apartment still. I sense a part of me not wanting to let go and the other part of me tugging as hard as it can to pull me away. I will let go. I know I have to. I will let go. I will.

A few days now since I spent my "tight" night with the boys. I didn't really type much other than surface reflections in the last entry because I was floating---quite literally---on cloud 13 somewhere. In the past few days I have had to rubberband snap my mind. I get to thinking about things that are much too involved for me and ultimately has nothing to do with me. I think about why couples have 3-ways. I think about whether there is an equal desire on both parties to partake or whether one wants the experiences and the other simple goes along. Does it start out equal and change? Do they communicate well and discuss their expectations or limits beforehand? Do they know what they want out of it or is it play-as-you-go? All these ponderings pounce around in my brain, not just since my own experience, but for years I've wondered. So as I sat on their love seat--watching & waiting--these things were there. I drank to quash the clatter of my brain. I drank to see beneath the surface and start to sense what it was that was passing between them. I've always been good at molding myself to the intensity of one other person. I feel the pressure in their kiss and relate it back to them. I feel the heat from their touch and respond accordingly. I hear the breaths and moans and know which actions are pleasing and which need to be repeated. I've always felt that the way I am in the bedroom is the complete opposite of how brash and impersonal I am in "the real world." It's like I store up all of the sociableness for the intimacy involved in the close spaces underneath (and on top of) the covers. I'm fine with this odd strike of balance. Who needs to talk to people anyway? haha... kidding. No.. really.. I am. =)'

:::Rubberband SNAP!!::: So I made the statement last night to Mark & Charlie that I could go my whole life and never have the experience again and be okay. IT WAS that awesome to me. It's like why would I want to compare it with anything else or try to recreate it? I know me and sex. I know how things never get recreated--they can't. You can't conjure an element that is spontaneity sprinkled with pixie dust. So it begs the question.....would I do it again with them? :::sigh::: I'd love to. haha. :::rubberband snap::: **HARD** So I think I'm going to let my thoughts simmer a bit. I guess the last few days wasn't enough time. What an odd image---my mind as a crock pot just waiting for the right flavor to talk about something.

TV is going to become a thing of the past again. This new shift of mine will keep my nights booked until 11:30pm. One hour from now. D.R. was kind enough to record "24" for me. Sunday Nights off I might still be able to do the "Six Feet Under," "Sex In The City," "Queer As Folk" stuff... or the FOX night lineup. Or... :::rubberband snap:::

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. It's been a long time since I've related to my Catholic upbringing. I wouldn't even know if I'm spiritual per se. What I do know and am very sure of is that I'm moved deeply by the laughter of children in play and the silence of adults giving hugs. Shit...can I just be the Dalai Lama?