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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, Feb. 29, 2004 - 7:40 p.m.

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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.

Sat Night's Entry Expands

Ok, so I'm bad... I'm supposed to, according to my boss DAWENCH, drawing. I've got tons of stuff concurrently, and can't afford to let any of it slide.

But here I am in front of a computer with my kittyMinou on my knees and of course we all know that with a kitty on your knees you are basically chained in what ever position until it moves...

So here goes.

Yesterday I actually got up at 12:30!! eeek! Cuz I was tired the night before and didn't bake the whipped shortbread cookies for the girls' erotica reading. So I got up and whipped up them doozies. Here is the recipe, cuz they are GOOOD!!!

1 pound soft butter (I use salted)
1/2 cup sifted cornstarch
1 cup sifted icing sugar
3 cups sifted flour

Mix ingredients, and then whip with a hand mixer until fluffy... takes quite awhile. My brother wrote on the recipe "for 24 hours or until your hand falls off, whichever comes first", which is actually a bit of an exaggeration, since if you whip TOO long, the butter will warm and start to melt. Bad.

Drop by teaspoonfuls onto a cookie sheet, and bake at 325� for 25 minutes. Check often. If they start to brown, turn down the temp... they should be VERY lightly golden on the undersides, that's it. It makes perhaps 3-4 dozen smallish melt in your mouth cookies. mmm... Caution, they crumble easily.

After making my cookies I walked doggies and went to the cafe for a breakfast croissant and coffee and to scribble off the top of my head an erotic fantasy story that I had been thinking of the night before in a "what to write what to write" sort of way. I may upload it at some point and you can see what a perv I am hehe. It involves a shower, peeing, bitiing and squirting. Yup.

I was supposed to be AT the reading at 3pm, but finished my story (6 pages handwritten) at 3:15, so I ended up taking a taxi once I put on a cute outfit.

Got there at about 4:05 pm and things were just starting (and I WASN'T the last to arrive thank god!)... there ended being 13 women, and at least 8 of them read one or two pieces. Very very fun. What a bunch of great writers! There were stories about nonconsensual fucking scene of jealousy (between people who play consensually...very interesting), knife play, masturbation, flogging an employee for misdeeds rather than firing him and then going home for sex with the partner, something with a goldfish named Kevin... and someone read a bit from Calyxis of Isis in Pat Califia's book "Macho Sluts". Yummy.

So, the day was great, and so were the munchies. My cookies were a hit, and I traded some for brownies and a piece of homemade cheesecake. I walked home, and gave most of the rest of my cookies out to people begging for $$... they seemed quite in heaven when they bit in... walking away smiling and licking their lips instead of being disgruntled at the lack of change forthcoming. One guy I see around alot even asked me for the recipe and memorized it! Funny how I don't think of people begging on the street as memorizing whipped shortbread recipes... but he was really into it, discussing with another street kid what kind of mixer they would use. :)

I came home and did my Releve4 slips... they are for the tenants to use with their income taxes... they get a reimbursement on the tax part of their rent if they have low income. Fun fun... more paperwork for me.

And then I went out to the Fetish Cafe, blissfully unaware that it was going to close in two weeks. RRRRRRR. Motorcycle Boy was there and we hung out, hugged and gabbered a bit. Great to see him. And I ended up talking with this rather nice looking "older man" ie he is a bit distinguished looking with mostly graying hair... I've seen him often. He is attractive but I always suspected he was much older. I asked what his age was (see I am quite forward! LOL!) and he answered "twice your age"... I laughed and said, "my my, my grandmother died only 9 years older than you!!"... and he of course said "oh my, how old was your grandmother??" "89" ... he did quick math and said "you're not *40*!!, you look younger than 40" and I said "well, you are in GREAT shape yourself for 80!!" It was very funny.

He finally believed I am 40 after me giving several examples, like being 6 when I watched Neil Armstrong walk on the moon in 1969 on our b&w tv, etc, and it turns out he is 48. Which is near 50. Scary scary!! hehe. But still a long way from 80!! Does that mean he thinks I am 24?? eep!

So we ended up chatting most of the evening. He works doing international project development with third world countries with the world bank etc. Hmm. It is hard to get real info out of people with jobs like that as they just assume you cannot fit it into your pretty little head, or that you will find it boring. I had to dig to get that out... he just said "I am in project development"... what the fuck does that mean?? That he develops craft project kits for grade schoolers?? So I dug a bit.

He is French from France, but has been in Quebec for a bit longer than me. He doesnt speak very good English. I think that's weird given his international job. Strange. He says he speaks enough to do his job.

Anyhewwssss... the Mr.Hair from Valentines Day showed up later in the evening. Walked past me four times. Looked straight through me 6 times. Finally I went over to him... said "hi" and got a "do I know you?" I waved my Peach Schnapps under his nose, since he'd been plying me with peach schnapps over and over that night, and said "does that help?" Nope. He couldn't place my face, my voice, my body (I was wearing a sort of 1950's shortsleeved cashmere sweater last night, with my black suede SF skirt to my knees, my Calvin Klein boy's underwear with garters, and over the knee black and white striped socks, with my daintier army boots... not quite my red lingerie Valentines Devil outfit, but still cute)...

He couldn't even come up with the correct BAR he met me in... I kept quoting to him things he said and he'd go "yeah, those are my words"... but he couldnt even place saying them to ME!! (that must mean he says the same things to MANY girls, cuz when someone brings up my words I can USUALLY at least place where I was when I had that conversation!)... I told him I shouldve made a $ bet that he wouldnt recognize me, and he didnt. hah!

Anyways, he was like "what's your name??" at least when I said my name he placed me, but then looked totally dismayed, like at a small child who had walked in the mud in their best shoes after Daddy had said not to... and said, looking at my hair "You DIDNT cut your hair LIKE THAT since two weeks ago?!!!".. urk. I said, no, I hadnt had long hair since like 1979... Anyways he was "i'll buy you a drink!", and I went "no, thanks, I'm chatting with someone who doesnt think girls with short hair arent sexy"... He was all reaching his arms out as I walked away to hold me, and I said "please dont grab my arm",... he was "don't be like THAT... don't be UPSET... I said it wasnt SENSUAL, not that it wasnt SEXY (my eye... stupid twit... yeah, like I want to be NOT SENSUAL any more than NOT SEXY... stupid twit twit twit).

Well, it got worse. He sent me a peach schnapps via the bartender as I was talking with Frenchguy... I'm like fuck, if I drink it he'll come over, if I dont drink it he's gonna be insulted. So Frenchguy goes "could I buy you a drink?" and he bought me a Corona with two limes. I ended up drinking both eventually, but Mr.Hair came over and was like "you shouldnt be like that, you shouldnt be angry.." " I said thanks for the drink, but I'm not interested... the hair thing was a bit insulting, but there were other things too..." And then he was really peeved and stomped off to about 20 feet away.

I was talking about long hair to Frenchguy... how I started wearing wigs for fun, and how I wish I could have long hair but my hair is so thin hairdressers tell me that chin length is the longest I can go without it being all thin and little stringy ends... And Mr.Hair comes stalking stomping over, and yells at me, "I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING ABOUT LONG HAIR FROM WAY OVER THERE!!! STOP GOING ON!!! STOP BEING ANGRY!!!".. jeepers. Now I have guys who flirted with me one night telling me WHAT I can talk about and HOW to feel. Imagine going out with him!! Imagine actually having a real argument about how to spend inheritance money or something. ACK.

Well, we finally got rid of him, but I fear I made an enemy. I shouldve never gone over to surprise him that *I* was the hot Valentines Devil from two weeks past (that he SWORE he would recognize ANYWHERE cuz he's good with faces)... he wouldve just looked through me as though he never frenched me a whole night, until the place closes in two weeks.

But just goes to show how shallow these guys really are. Without tits in a red bra and long blond hair, he couldnt even recognize the voice or place the conversation or the schnapps. Even in the same bar only two weeks later.

Well, I had lots of fun conversation with Frenchguy who seems to have a proper head on his shoulders, and who after one drink changed to Perrier, and didnt offer me a line of coke or try to shut me up by kissing me. He just thought I was funny, and seemed to follow pretty much everything I said.

We went out for munchies with my friend Hotsauce (who left early since he had a skiing date this a.m.), and he drove me home. We exchanged #s cuz it was fun to talk with him, but then he kissed me. Hmmm. Listen to myself listen to myself. I didnt want kissing, and didnt really enjoy the kissing. Too bad. Wrong person? Wrong time? I dunno. He says he mostly doms but sometimes switches, but also he said he's timid, when I asked some questions. Hmm. I run right over timid people, though I am friendly and nice. But I treat them in a different way, ie I sort of "encadre" them, getting them to speak out for themselves, etc etc, and it ends up being almost a maternal friendship from my point of view, or bigsisterly, not sexy. Even though ob could be timid in a sort of way, she was also a go-getter who just needed a co-conspirator. SHE is the one who suggested we crawl through an orgy as light assists, SHE is the one who insisted on me showing off my crotchless pirate bloomers, SHE is the one who got us started with knives and photos. hmm.

Hotsauce used to be very timid. I know he thinks I'm hot, but really, I feel like his sister, and a lot has to do with that feeling of being more outgoing in a way, of "taking care of" him, "advising" him. I like someone stronger willed than that to feel a sexual zing. Hmmm.

Besides that, he broke up a 3 year relationship last july (ie around the same time things werent working out with ob), BUT he is still seeing her off and on. eeep!!! Can we say "conflicted"??!! Also he kept touching my head in a sort of "sweet child" way... I mentioned it and said it was annoying me a bit... he said he certainly didnt have any "sweet child" intentions. hehe. But though I thought he was attractive, I mostly enjoyed someone with a quick mind. I feel very much like I am happy alone right now, with very little desire to have my space invaded or vice versa. And I think I need to listen to that.

So, now he wants me to call soon soon, like on Tuesday. I dunno. I have flamenco on Tuesday... we are learning a choreography to Bolero to do in a "spectacle", and meeting my library friend (god I forget all my pseudonyms... whatever have I called her before?) on Wednesday, and Thurs I want to see Cyndi Lauper in concert... she has a new album of interpretations of songs from 40's and 50's I believe. Busy busy. And I want to work on my work.

AND walking home from the erotica reading thingie I had many fun performance ideas, involving "Hello Dolly" song and goofy stageprops....

Well, that's my entry for today. Maybe I'll be back later like midnight, to upload pics and do an entry of last Saturday in San Fran. Yup.

And now you see where I was coming from when I wrote my entry last night.... :)

9:04 pm Yay yay! I've got a ticket to see Cyndi Lauper on Thursday!! And it costs like HALF what it cost to see her with Cher! Fun fun! :)

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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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