Whirlwinded.

If you’re wondering where I’ve been for the last couple of days, here’s the answer, I’ve been minding my life. The Princess has started up a business that I’m sure will work out very well, I’m helping her do publicity material, and she’s been telling me about stuff I could do for the wine company she works for.

So I told Chris about it. And apparently, he minds one of the wineries in Northern California (couple of bottles of wine in my fridge I don’t care for explaining to my parents where I got them from) and asked me if I’d like a shot at getting it distributed over here. The moment he mentioned ‘paperwork’ my eyes glazed over and I told him he’s just better meet P and tell her all about it.

We had a really great late week retreat, with loads of laughs, alcohol and great cuddling (the sex is good, bar the fact that it’s a little too much, as expected. But at least with him, I don’t have a problem saying ‘No. I’m too bloody sore, please don’t’ Because maybe if I did that with Ethan, I wouldn’t have felt like he was some kinda sex-fiend) The only thing that bothers me about him, very occasionally, is his age. He’s just old, and that bothers me, sometimes. Looking at him bothers me. Sometimes. But when I clear my head of all the stupidity that surrounds the attraction of youth, it’s not in any way cause for dissatisfaction.

He’s been trying to work out a schedule with me where I’d get to go down to HK to hang out next weekend, after that a week in Paris (maybe a little longer. He said I could follow him around to a few other European cities if I was a good girl and finished all my work by the end of the month… which would also mean my parents would allow me to get out of the country since they wouldn’t have a cause for keeping me here if everything that needs to be done is done). And then maybe a road trip on the West Coast US in June and a shot nip down to NY. All that’s kinda fun (and I definitely don’t think he’s shitting me, because he’s got no reason to; and anyway, he did get me that ticket to San Francisco). I’m really more psyched over doing a summer term in July though, film probably. He said he’d only sponsor it if he would be in the States for most of the time during that time (which I think is fair and makes sense. He’s not a charity or a personality based scholarship after-all). He has a cool loft a couple of blocks away from the other school I was interested in. This is too wacky.

Anyway, whatever. We’ll see how it goes. He asked me about Martine, because I told him as a matter of fact, I did sleep with someone after I left him in SF, but that I totally trusted him. I was in a little fix, and I asked him why the question. ‘Curiosity’, he said. It made me think if I was really that in Martine. And the truth is, I am. Only, until he can let me into his life –the way Chris is; and the things he’s doing for me is just too amazing and nothing I could have ever expected- and until he can, I can’t just give up everything in the meanwhile and sit around waiting for him.

You know, the thing is, you don’t have to choose between true love and financial support. You can have both. My idea of genuine love and care comes mostly from a person’s capacity to want to care of me and his ability to do so. To me, there is nothing romantic about being broke and in love, and I don’t see the point of loving someone broke, when someone capable can love me more.

And the massage thing really works as a good gauge of whether an individual really loves you or not. Ask for a back-rub when in genuine discomfort and see if they do it. And not just do it, but do a good job of it. There’s no such shit thing as being unable to give a good back-rub, it’s just pure laziness if they don’t. Giving massages is an exhausting activity, it’s and effort, and that’s the secret to a good massage. And anyone that says I Love You without being able to offer that sort of effort is lying. Giving a massage is possibly one of the most self-less things, there’s not much individual satisfaction to be gotten out of it, aside from the fact that you feel pleasure that the one you like is within delight. It’s kinda like giving a oral sex, only more effort. (Massages are only good when they are at least 40 minutes long).

I digress.

A photographer called while I was out with Chris and introduced me to someone he said was a ‘really good friend’ who’d like to meet me. To ‘hang out, and if you’d like to take it further…’

‘Uh, no. Really, thanks, but seriously no thanks. I don’t do that kinda thing. Did it for a while, with two people, both of which are decent, one of which I really like and don’t want to lose. The STD headache it causes me is not worth it, and I just don’t want to sleep with anyone new. I’m happy where I am.’

I told Chris the whole truth about the sex for money thing.

‘It was something I wanted to do, and I thought why the hell not. I’d just take a shot with you.’

He laughed and said he was actually glad I did, although it did cost him a few hours of sleep thinking about it all.

I’m actually very much happier no that money’s not so blatantly involved. Let’s just say it’s progressed beyond the X amount of dollars phrase to ‘hey money makes me happy, so just give me some okay. I want to go shopping and take my girlfriends out.’ (But just for the record, I’m not a shop-a-holic. In fact, I hate shopping for anything aside from books, cds and art material. The only time clothing and accessories are involved are when I’m completely sick of wearing the same thing, and my handbag isn’t big enough to carry novels of a certain size -you now clearly know I don’t read too many Penguin Classics. Those are too handy sized-). There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a little dressing up, certainly, I just think it’s a complete waste of time shopping for them, because clothing, unlike literature or music, does not inspire me. If it inspires you, kudos to that. But it’s just not for me.

So anyway, the sex has gotten better when you don’t feel like you’re being paid for, and when that happens, I don’t feel embarrassed about asking for things if I want them, because I know he gives them, because he knows that doing so makes me happy, and he’d like that very much.

I dreamt about the G-spot a couple of nights ago. I miss him a little I suppose. Kinda wished he were around sometimes to hang out, I don’t actually have any male friends that are as uh… avant-garde, who aren’t trying to get into my pants. He was walking around in this T-shirt he had a habit of wearing when he went out with me, and a Jockey-strap (you know. One of those pouches you wear to the gym that holds the balls without covering the butt). He was watering plants in my house and my dad came home, saw all of that and turned completely red.

My mother has appendicitis.

That’s kinda all the interesting news for now.

***

*Warning! Evil email rant.*

Oh, and by the way for the stupid fuckwits who are pissed with the Vatican Rag post, fuck off and die. Firstly, I was in no way making fun of the pope or the Catholic religion. I believe in Christ, and I don’t give a whack about denomination. I just believe that that pope would have liked people to be chilled out about his death. He was a great man and stayed alive despite being so darned sick simply because it was what he believed in. Many people would disagree, and I can definitely understand why that he wouldn’t have necessarily been happy with Tom Lehrer (I forgot to credit him, my bad. I genuinely thought I did, so please forgive) for coming up with it. But he just like all great people, he kinda always struck me as the type of character that would want his funeral to be a little less somber and more of a hey God, thank you for my life, farewell party. After all, he’s in a better place isn’t he? I just thought it was funny, I thought some people may enjoy, and everyone has to make fun of themselves once in awhile. And I don’t have a problem jesting with my faith. It’s not going to cost me my soul, if you really do believe that God is steadfast!

If you're going to plagiarize something, do so honestly and state
straight up that you're stealing it from somewhere. It's not so much
the honesty issue (I suspect that you're immune to such arguments
anyway): it's the fact that when you're found out, you look like a
goddamned moron. Particularly when stealing from someone as popular
and well-known as Tom Lehrer.

What's particularly flabbergasting is that you weren't content with
presenting the song as though it was something of your own, but
included Lehrer's introductory material as a paragraph in your article
with nothing to differentiate it from the rest, with nothing to
indicate that you didn't write it the same way you wrote the paragraphs
just above.

I would ask if you think putting that up was a stupid idea in
retrospect, but again I suspect the answer would be no. If true, that
says a lot.

I had to post that. Mostly because I’m sick and tired of being nice to people who send rude emails. Why get a complete stranger riled up for no reason, unless they antagonized you in the first place. Maybe you find me forgetting to credit Tom Lehrer a horrible crime against yourself; but I must say, Lehrer would find it rather upsetting to know he had fans of such posterior nature. And in the way, if Lehrer were all that popular as you say he is , then it would only have been logical that there was no need for me to credit him. It’s like having to credit Shakespeare every time someone uses one of his idioms.

I’m completely comfortable with the way I am, and I don’t care if you think I’m witty or smart, or particularly creative. I don’t know any of you, and none of you are going to give a shit about me if I needed help. I cannot possibly see why I’d even bother to try.

If that bloke has even bothered to read some of the recent posts where I’ve quoted phrases, he’d know that I normally do give credit where credit is due, even for the shortest lines. Bloody hell, I’m completely against downloading songs and music for free if I really believe the artist deserves payment for being so damn talented. And you’re accusing me of being so darned cheap-skate to want to credit a song (as goddamned good as it is) to myself?

Does no one believe in giving anyone the benefit of doubt these days? It would make all your lives better. And you'll be less of a moron. In any given situation.

xoxox