Alright, I know I am rather delayed in an update about Brit Boy. He's come to the states, gone off to Cuba for a fortnight, returned to spend the past weekend with me, then ventured off to Portland while I'm with my family. There are so many things I could blab on about, but I'm not sure I really know how to put these things into words. Things have gone exceedingly well, and I will just say two things about our time together thus far...
1) WOW!!! The connection we shared in the desert has not diminished. Nor, actually, has the fabulousness of the sex. *grin*
2) He thinks the way I prepare my tea is treasonous. I keep trying to tell him that my countrymen committed treason against the crown a few centuries ago, but he can't get over the fact that I like to put half-n-half... or on those really decadent moments real cream... in my tea. For me, milk just won't cut it.
So, things are going well. I'm with my family for one more day, and then it's off to San Francisco to join up with Brit Boy for New Year's Eve. We'll see what kind of shenanigans we can get ourselves into out there.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
It's cold up in here...
It's been a little over a decade since I've had to deal with seriously cold weather and snow, but here I am, holed up in my mom's house in Kansas City, KS, while snow keeps fluttering to the ground. Big fat chunks of snow. It's really rather pretty, and I'm enjoying watching it fall on the evergreen trees and collect on my mom's deck. From the warmth of the comfy chair, with a cat resting on my legs and a nice warm cup of tea on the table beside me.
I did venture out for a bit earlier today, but still having my left leg bound up in a brace from my accident is causing me a fair amount of limping and instability. Not the best way to really experience the snowy outdoors.
I did venture out for a bit earlier today, but still having my left leg bound up in a brace from my accident is causing me a fair amount of limping and instability. Not the best way to really experience the snowy outdoors.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
You got your chocholate in my peanut butter...
There seems to be a pattern to the manner in which I recover emotionally from bodily injury. Years ago when my right hand was smashed in a boating accident and it was thought I might have nerve damage or loss of some motor skills, I found myself sitting in bed, jar of peanut butter in one hand, King-Size Hershey bar in the other, dealing with my pain.
Last year when I broke my pelvis and Latex Guy and my sex life was less than desired due to the many constraints on my ability to move, I often found myself with a jar of peanut butter in one hand and a milk chocolate bar in the other, consoling myself.
The last few days while I've been recovering from being hit by a truck (by the way, there is some truth to the statement "I feel like I just got hit by a truck"), I've gone through two and a half fabulous chocolate bars and about a third of a jar of peanut butter. Brit Boy made some fabulous choices in chocolate bars before he left for Cuba. Too bad he wasn't around to enjoy them.
Maybe this is why I always gain a few pounds after I injure myself.
Last year when I broke my pelvis and Latex Guy and my sex life was less than desired due to the many constraints on my ability to move, I often found myself with a jar of peanut butter in one hand and a milk chocolate bar in the other, consoling myself.
The last few days while I've been recovering from being hit by a truck (by the way, there is some truth to the statement "I feel like I just got hit by a truck"), I've gone through two and a half fabulous chocolate bars and about a third of a jar of peanut butter. Brit Boy made some fabulous choices in chocolate bars before he left for Cuba. Too bad he wasn't around to enjoy them.
Maybe this is why I always gain a few pounds after I injure myself.
Monday, December 17, 2007
OW!!!!
While Brit Boy was here last week we went underwear shopping. After perusing through several different brands and styles, I selected a nice pair of dark blue C-IN2 briefs with Sling-Support. What is "sling support," you might ask? Well... it's a way to lift and support my natural... er... assets. I had heard about these at a party and was definitely intrigued. See, I've noticed a bit of discomfort at times while riding my bike around town, specifically in the scrotal area. I wanted to see if these things could support my goods.
I can say that when I put these puppies on, I was all sorts of supported. I actually felt a little uncomfortable with how prominent I was. I mean... I wasn't sure that I really liked having my goods on display like this. But, they definitely did the job with helping me avoid a bad case of crotch soreness.
That is, until I wore them to work the other day.
I'm just sitting at my desk going through some emails when I do a little scratch. Which is immediately followed by an intense pain of the scrotum. I shift. I adjust. To no avail. In fact, I only make the situation worse. It's like someone has taken a clothespin and clipped it to my jigglies.
I run to the bathroom, rip open my pants, pull down my underwear and disentangle my meat and potatoes from the elastic band sling-support.
I need to find a better way to protect my assets.
That is, until I wore them to work the other day.
I'm just sitting at my desk going through some emails when I do a little scratch. Which is immediately followed by an intense pain of the scrotum. I shift. I adjust. To no avail. In fact, I only make the situation worse. It's like someone has taken a clothespin and clipped it to my jigglies.
I run to the bathroom, rip open my pants, pull down my underwear and disentangle my meat and potatoes from the elastic band sling-support.
I need to find a better way to protect my assets.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Bicycle experiment... on hold.
Well, my bicycle experiment... is on hold right now.
Today, I got hit by a car. By a Ford Explorer to be precise. I rolled over the hood, hit the windshield, was upside down for a bit, and crashed to the ground. My bike... is trashed. A large portion of it, actually, has been bent in half.
I spent the better part of the afternoon at the county trauma center. After about 20 X-rays, a Cat-Scan, and some general poking and prodding, I'm okay. I have some serious road-rash and from about my mid-thigh to my ankles it feels like I'm on fire. But I have no broken bones. Thank god for my week-old helmet.
Today, I got hit by a car. By a Ford Explorer to be precise. I rolled over the hood, hit the windshield, was upside down for a bit, and crashed to the ground. My bike... is trashed. A large portion of it, actually, has been bent in half.
I spent the better part of the afternoon at the county trauma center. After about 20 X-rays, a Cat-Scan, and some general poking and prodding, I'm okay. I have some serious road-rash and from about my mid-thigh to my ankles it feels like I'm on fire. But I have no broken bones. Thank god for my week-old helmet.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
I. Am. Doomed.
I started a new job on Monday. I'm still working in downtown Austin. I'm still associated with the legislature... just in a different fashion. And apparently it's a job where I need to be reachable in many different ways at all hours.
I was given a Blackberry today.
I don't know how I feel about having this thing attached to my hip. Vibrating every time I get an e'mail. Going off when co-workers begin some IM chat conversation about where we're gonna go to lunch. My boss sending me messages when he gets into the office... at 6:30am.
I have found myself checking it frequently. Making sure that I'm not missing anything from my boss. Gotta ensure I make that good first impression.
There's a reason they call it the Crack-berry.
I was given a Blackberry today.
I don't know how I feel about having this thing attached to my hip. Vibrating every time I get an e'mail. Going off when co-workers begin some IM chat conversation about where we're gonna go to lunch. My boss sending me messages when he gets into the office... at 6:30am.
I have found myself checking it frequently. Making sure that I'm not missing anything from my boss. Gotta ensure I make that good first impression.
There's a reason they call it the Crack-berry.
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