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Music today: new Missy Elliot cd... i'll comment on it when i've heard it!

Reading today: Alobar starts aging rapidly in Jitterbug Perfume

Quote of the Entry

Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Sunday, Oct. 12, 2003 - 6:40 p.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

Soiled Virgin Rusty Slut

A warm sunny day. Shorts on. Baggy combat shorts with my red 0% American tshirt, my rosaries, red bandana on my head. Army boots. Feel like i'm lookin good. Walking the dogs around my neighborhood alone (dropped Dad off at the airport at 11am).

Thinking... I almost never see someone, esp women, whom i'd be interested in going out with or even romancing or fucking... not in my neighborhood. Some young punky girls, and some boys, looking good, and looking about 20 years younger than me. Then just people. I wonder what they see when they see me. Most of my dog-walking associates are around my age. They are nice people. Artsy sorts who write for newspapers, or illustrate books. Community minded sorts who are teachers (grade school, highschool, university) and social workers. Entrepreneur sorts who run little shops, bakeries, publishing houses, cafés. Nice people with jobs and mortgages, dogs and cats, and in most cases partners (can't say spouses here... marriage is not in vogue in this area) and in some cases, kids.

I would seem to fit right in, being the entrepreneurial, artsy, community minded sort, with a job and a mortgage, dogs and cats, and liking kids.

Postcard: "Maid in the Shade", reg. Laird M. Ehlert, PO Box 341, Church Street Station, New York, NY 10008
But I feel so isolated. I know perhaps 2 dykes in the neighborhood, but they are not into fetish. I know someone into fetish, but she is really so straight in the head, and mostly into drinking too much and smoking pot. (ie not doing fun crazy things while she drinks, so it would be interesting to me... no the type who thinks sitting and drinking at a table all night is an activity in itself). I know artsy illustrator types, but they are heterosexuals who sort of humour my weird bisexual dyke oriented self.

Maybe there are some of those walking the streets and sitting beside me at a cafe table who actually are just like me... not apparent at first view that they are queer, kinky, artsy etc.

But how the hell would i find them?? And they me? (I am usually in my regular camo of black 501's and tshirt... and i seldom anymore wear my "provocative" tshirts anymore: HotHead Paisan Homocidal Terrorist, LesbianAvengers We Recruit, Dykes to Watch Out For, Women Act UP SanFran... i guess that was mostly a younger me... and since I dont feel like i am seeing likeminded individuals in the neighborhood who would get those T's, I feel like a punk kid in a midwestern whitebread town when I wear them... a feeling i enjoyed more at 20 than 40)

Just thinking and tabulating, which of course are some of my habits, now that Dad is gone. I realize that ob is the first woman I have actually fucked more than once or twice since 1996. I did have ongoing sex with M (1998)and with Crow (2000), but neither of them admitted to even "going out" with me, and both were straight men who once again, sort of humoured my dyke side.

I did "get done" maybe 6 times over 3 months by Everready, I picked up a young thing at the dog park one night... or rather accepted to have her doggedly follow me home, and did her in a rather quick and distant manner, but I didnt even take a stitch of clothes off myself, or kiss. I had crushes a couple times, with stirrings of ambitions. I even kissed one girl two or three evenings, but no nekkidness or anything clinton would even deny. A couple of isolated incidents with women at Michfest... spontaneous one night thingies... or perhaps one hour thingies would better describe it.

So, two boys that i did cuz they were there and i wanted a sex life. And a smattering of little one-nighters with girlz between 1996 and ob. Maybe i'm in denial and there is someone earthshattering I am forgetting. But no, when i think of all the times there was a year-long drought, it is not only possible to have so dismal a history but downright undeniable. AAGH!

How can i be a juicy sexy "obviously sexy" (as Everready put it this summer) 40-looks-25 woman, who hangs in fetish clubs, wins striptease competitions, illustrates for OOB, travels to England and Ireland, Toronto and San Fran, goes out to cafes and dyke events, hangs in the Zone, basically not your sit at home watching tv type... how can i have no sex life, and no love life? I dunno i really really don't know.

Slim pickings combined with pickiness!! "when i was young, making love was just for fun... those days are done"... hah, one night stands are fun, but WHEN i find the person hot and there is chemistry. But one night chemistry doesnt usually last. And lately there has been nada.

I wish my Dad were still here if only for the company and the prophylactic effect... less thought of relationship failure, starving body and lonely head. aaaagh.

I should perhaps write up a "wanna fuck the wench?" form like meeyapede has posted today! That woman rocks! Scroll down near bottom for her take on this

Oh, to be kissing someone i have the hots for, grinding against them as we sweat, raindrops running down our slippery faces as our hands grope and our eyes reflect sparks of excitement and desire. To wake up next to someone and WANT to do it all again, not roll over and get them out of the house.

All dressed up and nowhere to go. No, all dressed up, lotsa places to go... ALONE. glll.

A little quote for today:

"...Kudra had failed to reappear.... His ego prevented him, except in rare moments of self-doubt, from believing that Kudra had remained on the Other Side by choice."
page 235, Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins

Yes, that was me. My ego prevented me from believing that ob would leave me by choice. I believed that as long as i dealt with the practicalities that separated us... expensive longdistance calls, travel, lack of job flexibility on her part.... that she would choose to stay with me. Oh the wonders wonders wonders of the deluded ego.

mmm, the song "SLIDE" by Missy Elliot is playing now... I like the groove of it, makes me want to move and grind. I like funkiness. Dip dip shake, move it all around! yum yum.... back later.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009


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