My sink runneth over...
Now seems like a good time to write a long post... National Lampoon's European Vacation is coming on in a moment, and it is a good flick to have as background sound. It will also provide me with suggestions of activities to do in Europe once I'm over there, although I best attempt my own Bavarian slap dancing moves.
Things are getting deeper with my man over in London. When you open up the mail and a 3-CD box set of John Denver greets you... then you know that it's serious. Because the lyrics of JD are not for the faint hearted. (actually, they are... but when your heart is open to all kinds of suggestion, JD is probably only trumped by Karen Carpenter.)
"Let me drown in your laughter...
let me die in your arms...
let me lay down beside you...
let me always be with you...
come, let me love you...
come, love me again..."
OK... so perhaps the commas were a little misplaced... but surely you get the drift?
I don't really know what a real relationship is like, because I've never been in one. But this is as close as I've come, and I truly want to give it my whole. And, to be totally honest, SFL gives me a godamn hard-on practically every time I talk to him. And sometimes so totally inappropriately that it leaves me truly wondering where my brain is in all this. (No, I won't be taking pictures like that guy in that other blog that I only visit for the articles...)
Not that I am totally into sex and all that. Well, err, I think about that stuff a bit... but the experience of SFL has brought some new terms into my life that send tingles down my spine. Words like 'feltching'... licking in... err... inappropriate places. Not that he's into all that stuff. Christ, I'm screwing this up. Sigh...
Recently at work, I overheard some friends discussing ages of people they would deem appropriate to form a relationship with. Largely, anyone lying within 6 years, give or take, would be OK. Apparently anything further gets disgusting. SFL is not is such a bracket... SFL is a little older than me. I've usually been attracted to guys a little older than myself... more mature... more clean cut and manly. They'd know how to fix a broken sink. I don't. I won't cordone myself off, but it is something to consider. But I am going to need someone should I ever come across a dripping sink... ;o)
So... I did have my hair cut a few days ago. Not that short... because, as I'm told everyday now, I'm perfect and don't need to change. Despite this, I also had my hair blondened a few days afterward. Now I can use words like 'blondened' without a second thought... which I don't seem to have anymore now that I am blonde. :o)
"WJ writing to SFL as a blonde"
I don't do this sort of thing very often, which is why I took it upon myself to make the effort. I was sure that SFL would like it, anyway. He did mention that if I got to the airport as a blonde, the airport security couldn't stop him from jumping my bones. I think I better buy myself a taser gun before I get over there... :o)
(Sigh... I'm finishing up now... the Bavarian slap dancing scene is on. If you have the flick on DVD, then you'd know how long a post takes me to write. I guess I am typing a little slower now that my hair pigmentation has altered. God, that word has so many, like, letters. :o)
William John.