'Ff'lo (fflo) wrote,
'Ff'lo
fflo

Sunday night before New Year's Eve day, which would then be a Monday, making New Year's on a Tuesday

Trash is out. Many of the dishes done. Waiting on the laundry.

In the laundry are new sheets. I was thinking it could be a commandment in my religion: When thy DVD player breaks, buy thyself new sheets. Not from the thrift store. Like, new new. And then washst thou them before using them the first night.

The young woman who rung me up for 'em was fun. She asked if I was ready to check out, and I said I was if she was ready to check me out, and she said Oh but wouldn't that be sexual harrassment? And ha ha ha ha. And there was this and that to chat about, as she at first missed the 50% off part and we had to unring and rering and all kindsa stuff.

Had a good day today.

Find myself feeling just a little bit festive, now that the long demarcated mutual holiday period is almost over for this year. Did some baking today. Might well do some more on New Year's Day. All is quiet then, sez Bono.

H & I celebrated our anniversary on New Year's. I think I've spoken before here of ambiguity surrounding when exactly a pair can be said to have gotten together, and how it seems lesbians often have a hard time saying. Anyhow I remember I did a poll about what counts as having had sex. So, New Year's is a good day for an anniversary, if you're picking within a ballpark range, and it's in there. You usually have it off work/school, and there's less obligation to be with family than on other holidays. And, again, there's the U2 thing.

I liked the Edge, m'self. Looked, in the face, like the girl who jumped me in. Really! When he was shiny-faced, before the beard thing.

[old pic of the Edge]


Speaking of girls, ran into a neighbor in the Kroger's today. She asked whether I'd driven. I had. (Needed milk for baking; was in sweatpants and flour.) Did she want a ride? No, she wanted to walk back, but could I put her groceries on my front steps? My front steps?, I'm thinking. Offered to put them on hers, less than a block away. She did have a lot to carry (ice cream was on sale). The kids were home, she said. Sick.

I took her groceries to her house. Older kid let me in. Then younger came out---he was the sick one, but he sure didn't seem it. Sweetie. And making whole sentences now. Then the housemate sorta-coparent (or who knows) came out. We all went down to the basement to watch the older kid on her newly-installed TRAPEZE. A freakin' trapeze in your basement. Is that not cool?

Mom got home. As we went up the basement stairs, coparenttypewoman in front of me, coparenttypewoman tried to apologize for having had her ass in my face. I said I thought I could handle it. She then said something about the world being a better place with women's asses in our faces, or it's good when life provides 'em, or we could all use more, or something along those lines. I agreed. Stopped short of telling her how her particular ass in my face was one of the particularly welcome ones, and how it's the ass on someone offa whom I get a really good vibe.

- + - + -

Was reminded recently, by getting back in touch online with people I knew before we had the online, of one of the original big dyke dramas among some of the first lesbians I hung out with. The one couple who were our standardbearers---as they'd been together FOUR (4) YEARS, ongoingly proving that lesbians could last in a pair---broke up. After that one of them---we'll call her A---became involved with a woman (C) many others considered particularly beautiful and appealing, perhaps most especially the one who was now A's ex- (let's call her B). At some point A went on vacation, having consented for C to sleep with whomever while A was gone, as long as it wasn't B. Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you what happened next. Bad blood did indeed result.

I may not be a fully reliable narrator there, I should point out. Never independently confirmed all sources, and it includes hearsay, not to mention my mind ain't what it didn't used to be either.

Time to check on those sheets and maybe watch another "Perry Mason" on the computer.

- == + == -

something else to go to: Lebowski Fest. Will this be my year? I believe I have a good handful of Lebowski-lovin' pals, man. And I love Louisville. Lynn's Paradise Café.

I put myself on the mailing list. "Your email address will never be shared or sold. That would be very un-dude."

ETA:  funny --> Lebowski fans go to "The Price Is Right"
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