The book project is moving along nicely. I’ve sent it back around to those that have already read just to get the signatures as testament. It will get underway as soon as a major source of my attention clears itself. She should, by all rights get the first chance - then off to NY.
To my UK request, of course, for you.
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I’ve written on everything … right up until the hurricane hit. It didn’t impact us beyond a little local flooding, and the lake only went up to nestle against the dock a few hundred yards away. My attention is still divided, however, and that has me pacing and me giving my rosary a finger polish.
Everything will resolve itself, if for no other reason than I’ve willed it to be so. Let’s just pray I’m right, hm?
And now, our regularly scheduled program begins….
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In my not-so-discerning youth I got around. Hell, I still get around more than I’d ever admit too, but back then, it was…epidemic. Beauty was all that was required to get into my pants. Beauty and perhaps a bit of a dark side, or turn to the kinky.
When I was no longer the fat college freshmen, drunk off too much freedom, pizza and beer, it only got worse. Objectify women? In spades. We even went with the usual grading system with a few tossed in peeves that were deal-breakers.
Dirty feet? Big one for me. I hate seeing black bottomed feet ( to this day ). If you are wearing a slip on shoe, I will notice.
Breaker for J? Body hair. No all-natural women for him. (Which now-a-days, he certainly doesn’t have to worry about.)
Between us it felt as if we’d run through the East Coast. When I met Taylor, and later N, that didn’t change, sadly. N’s loss (for surely Taylor was no loss) forced me to re-evaluate my behavior. Celibacy, something I hadn’t practiced since I lost my virginity, gave me perspective.
My profession and education gave me the further insight I needed.
I still get around just a little more than I should. Indeed, my mother has had my wedding planned for years. However, it’s the mind that snags me first. Dirty feet excluded, of course.
Aside from the visual, which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong, I look for the mind. I look for a connection that defies the slots I’d try to place you in during our conversation. (geek, stupid, professional, whore, etc) The best place to be, actually, is that place between friend and lover - where I’m not quite certain. (Perhaps you can call this just another form of objectification, I don’t know.)
If you fall into bothcategories soundly, you must be N, hm? Her influence in my life has been substantial. And while things are not settled between us, and there is much history (good and bad) she still holds rank.
It’s terrible to want things just outside your reach. It’s painful to wonder if you would damage the image you have of that desire by taking it.
I seem to be digressing into something I don’t want to think about at the moment. However, the point of this post is to say…
Nothing turns me on better than a hot brain….
(please just don’t have dirty feet)