our weekend was busy and busy. as of late i have been full of introspection (or full of something. *rolls eyes*). i wonder why why why at just about everything, every action, every reaction. i am analyzing and reanalyzing interactions. on friday i went from extremely happy and content to miserable just about every five minutes. chemical, yes, but still�some uncertainties are coming through. i felt lonely while my TT was in the same room, i missed him�as if he was not there at all. my body longs for those arms, oh yes, but this heat keeps the passion at bay.
there will be future times with central air and no more aeroplanes. there will be future times of twiddling toes fingers tongues under the comfort. sometimes i forget that relationships and bodies, just like the psyche, will have ups and downs�smoothing out and dipping, moments of great bliss and exasperation.
if we were not such good friends, so close one every level, we would not have come this far�through everything and more and everything else. *smile* it is just the way. fucking is good and excellent�but talking is better�and even not talking, the spring of his fingertips against mine i the close and comfortable darkness.
saturday was neverwinter and zucchini fritters and jello shots. you know, i had 15 of those damn things, and still no flush of the cheeks�no slur of the speech. i fear i may become an expensive date�i fear i am so disconnected from this shell that things are failing to effect me�i fear patterns of humiliation and self-loathing.
at least at the party i was only asked when TT and i were getting hitched once. i think this may be some sort of record. i am good not to play with them, i am, to tell fantastical stories and stare off into invisible points. TT and i sat there, on the outside, and watched these very tan, very floral people talk about their children and how soon one goes back to work after having the second or third one and such.
TT�s friend � happily married and hoping for fertility, thinking of dancing and writhing sperm, energetic and with a concrete mission � his friend and his wife, their plan house which they built from scratch, their pool, their multiple decks, their SUV.
whatever can i talk about? our kitties and fish? the music they are playing? i find myself being so superficial that i find the common jello shot bond, my excuse for movement�oh, that reminds me! time for another shot! *up and off to the kitchen*
they find me cute and entertaining.
they will talk to me next year about the same exact things.
they will ask me every time i see them about babies and marriage.
but who am i to judge�these are nice people, they are. i am just not.
continuing on�
last night my TT and i made caesar salad and cheese sammiches�we snuggled down into couches with kitties and watched gosfordpark, a murder not-so mystery set in the early 30�s in a beautiful English country estate. i am so stuck on the styles and fashions of the 20�s to 40�s�so classic, mostly consisting of things i would *heart* to own ...mostly. in one scene in the film the women were preparing to go outside for brunch and they wrapped whole animal skins around their necks�uck. this so revolted me�
we also watched abeautifulmind. i wonder if i am always going to get sweaty palms, panicky and slightly out of breath watching movie scenes which present the world of the insane � especially when scenes of mental hospitals are presented.
godamnit, why cannot they call it medicine instead of meds? and why oh why does that irk me so?
