Losing Weight Again, Phew, Being Kind to Two Cute Teenage Girls, a Celebrity Makeover and Girly Gossip at Fred Segal's for My Pal Susan, Dangerous Shopping, Sick Kittens, a Dream About Spiders a Spooky Enormous Victorian Mansion and Sex With a Stranger, and Some Chat About My Own Sexuality.
Wow, these protein drinks have made all the difference in the world to my weight loss. They're a soy protein powder of some kind that I mix with soy milk and frozen fruit in a blender. I was stuck at this awful non-weight-losing plateau for three weeks at least and had begun to think this was the end of the weight losing road when my friend Karen encouraged me to add the shakes back in. I'm down another pound today making my total loss 103! Thank you so much Miss Karen!
I wanted to share a story about something small that happened Friday but that gave me so much joy. I was getting something at the local beauty supply store when I noticed these two teenaged girls -- they were probably thirteen or fourteen. They wanted to buy something from the Dirty Girl product line -- a little plastic bag with a bunch of small sized products inside and they were going to share it. They seemed worried about the cost so they kept giggling and talking about it in these rushed whispery tones, then they'd run out of the store and run back in. Finally when I was getting rung up at the register they had kind of spread out on the floor and were going through their backpacks and counting out their crumpled up bills and change. I so remember when Lorraine and I used to be like that, trying to get enough money together to buy Lee Press On Nails or a box of diet pills, and I wanted to help them out so I told my pals behind the counter to add two of whatever it was they were trying to get to my bill and then give them to the girls after I left. I loooooove making people happy by doing little things like this, I think it makes me happier than it ever makes anyone else, plus it kind of just spreads the karmic love around, keeping the world full of good vibes and surpsing happiness. Ya know what I mean?
As I was walking out the saleswoman ran out from behind the counter and approached the girls and they started to appologize for sitting on the floor and making a mess, and said, "We're sorry we don't have enough to buy this, we'll leave." Then the saleswoman said, "Oh no it's okay girls. I just wanted to tell you that this lady here, she buy you this for each of you." They were so shocked and looked so happy. I tried to scoot out of there but they chased me out to the street and threw their arms around me squealing and thanking me in their cute girlish voices. I felt soooooo good, and has this just small bursting feeling of joy right in the center of my chest. Like I said, doing small kind acts for other people does so much for me, lifts my heart up so high, that it makes the act of giving seem so obviously the right thing to do.
I was talking about this to the gals at the knit store afterwards and we all could relate to the Catholic thing of not proclaiming or sharing your good deeds with others. We had been thoroughly programmed not to do this as kids so I still feel guilty when I recount a story in which I'm the good guy. I feel a bit guilty sharing this with you. So when I told them I had to preface the story with an, "Ummm, I'm not telling you this so you'll think I'm a nice person or I'm trying to get points or anything but..." and they completely understood.
It's that Sister Judith and the cloak room thing all over again. "Girls, when you pass through the cloak room and you notice that someone's blazer or beret has fallen on the floor, just pick it up for them and put it back on the peg, and never ever tell them that you've done this. We don't want to take credit for our small acts of charity. God doesn't like that. He likes it when our good deeds go unseen save for him."
I finally got some sleep last night because wonderful Irma, my helper extraordinaire, agreed to take the nursing kittens off my hands for a couple of nights. Man, what a difference a night's sleep can make to a Jacqui like me. I lost weight, I got my period, I feel pretty happy and positive, I want sex -- amazing.
I had fun and spent money that I certainly should not have at the Fred Segal sale yesterday. All of the regular shopping items and areas were cordoned off behind big white drapey sheets so it was fun and exciting getting to go behind the sheets into the makeup area and be the only ones allowed back there while Susan was getting her makeup done. Robin, the nice, and super gorgeous, (German, Japanese and Tahitian, can you imagine that?) makeup artist said that we were getting the celebrity treatment because the whole Bobby Brown, Stila, Laura Mercier, makeup area was all ours to play around in and no one else was allowed back there. Every once in a while someone would sneak behind the curtains and they would be promptly escorted out.
Robin told us lots of celebrity stories and gave us both some terrific makeup tips. It was all very girly and fun, we talked about weight, siz, food, models, men etc. Robin who had what I think is a perfect body with just the right amount of lucious fleshyness thinks that she is fat. A size six and she thinks she's fat, but she reminded us that she spends all her time doing models who are freakishly thin and in that world these very, verrrry thin women, get it all, money, fame, success, men fall at their feet, and yet there they are in the bathroom doing lots of coke and starving themselves, living on lettuce while Robin orders appetizers.
She also reminded us that for some of these already gorgeous women to look the way they do in the magazines, that there is so much that goes into just one of these photos we quickly page by. She used one model as an example. She said that she spent two hours doing her makeup, the hair stylist spent three hours doing her hair, she had a fashion stylist and assistants, there were four people setting up the perfect lighting, and of course the famous amazing photographer and his assistants making everything look perfect and then when it was all done, there were eight hours of airbrushing and digital artwork that went in to making this woman look this good for just this one shot. She also said that she was sitting in an office watching an editor take two inches off of Cindy Crawfords thighs and that they even do it to women as thin as Kate Moss. Yep that does make a gal feel a bit better.
She's doing one of the writers for Will and Grace for the Emmy's tonight, umm, doing her makeup, not doing her. She had two women who both wanted her to do their makeup, some young gorgeous blonde thing from a WB show and the writer. They were both upping their offers in a bid war kind of thing, whch she said happens pretty commonly to stylists before award shows, but she said she went for the writer because she's African American and in her forties and said she really needed someone who knew how to do makeup for her age and coloring so Robin thought it would be the better of the two jobs to take, the one that would mean more to her.
She made Susan look fabulous. But she had to hurry off to get dressed for her dinner party thing. I walked around and shopped a bit. I bought some chandelier earrings and a pink Jelly Kelly bag. I was sad to see my new Anya Hindmarch budgie bird purse on sale when I only just received the one I paid full price for two days ago -- not fair. I went and looked at the clothes for the first time in years and there were so many cool things. I am so out of the loop clothing wise because there hasn't been any point to looking since nothing would ever fit me. Now at least I'm beginning to think that maybe some day I'll be able to wear some of these things.
Later last night, at around eleven, Susan came by after her party to show me her dress and she really looked great, so pretty and elegant. I was really happy for her and glad that she came by to show me the finished look, it kind of completed things for me, plus it's always nice to see her. She's one of the most accepting people I know and always makes me feel so loved and appreciated. Somehow around her I'm not as ashamed about my pissed up catty house as I am around other people.
Oh crap, Irma just called and one of the three remaining kittens, we've lost two so far, had what seemed like an epileptic attack. She came back around but is weak, so Irma is going to take them to the emergency vet if it gets any worse, if not we'll go together and take all of them in tomorrow. I don't want to leave them there in a cage where I don't think they'll get the care and attention they get from us, but on the other hand maybe they can give them some kind of medication. Are they epileptic or are they having strokes or heart attacks? It would be good to know what's been suddenly happening to these little guys.
This is all my own fucking fault for being such a slow moving idiot and not getting the girls fixed in the first place so nothing like this would happen. I think there is too much inbreeding in these kittens backgrounds. Their mother and father weren't related but on the mom's side there were all kinds of country cousin shennanigans going on. Shit, shit, shit and sadness.
At diner the other night with our friends The Copelands, (Beau's tutor who used to teach at his school and her husband host a regular Friday night dinner at Soup Plantation and all of their friends are always welcome to come and join them, it's always fun because they are so charming and good and their friends are so interesting), Mrs. Copeland, Louise, was telling us about how she got tickets to go to the Emmys tonight. She has just opened her own tutoring studio and she dedicated it to two of her favorite kids, a little brother and sister who had died. Apparently their parents were first cousins who married and both of their children were born little, little as in little people, and had all kinds of birth defects. They died very young and one right after the other. Louise simply called their parents and left a message on their machine telling them that she was dedicating her studio to them, and the next thing she knew, the parents sent two tickets to the Emmy's to her. Goodness always seems to come around in this way. At least I think so.
I want to log in a dream I had last night. I think this can be super boring for some people to read through, so like I said yesterday I'll italicize all of the parts that are the dream, although this one got pretty sexual so some of you might find it interesting and others might be offended. I just want to forewarn you that if this sort of thing puts you off or if you are afraid of spiders, cause this dream was all about spiders, and a little bit about sex, that you might want to just skip over it.
I am asked to lead an OA meeting. I am sitting in a circle and I start speaking. I feel vulernable and fragile but I want to share my story, I think its worth hearing and might be helpful to some of these woman.
Susan is here and she's listening but the women don't seem interested at all. They keep getting distracted and chatting among themselves while I speak, which hurts. Just as I am about to say something important about my weight loss surgery, something that feels super vulnerable, something happens that distracts everyone and they all start chatting and shifting around in their chairs.
I am going to wait until they finish to continue my pitch but when they settle down the meeting secretary starts to move on as if I had finished speaking. I feel so hurt and upset aout this so I get up to leave. Somehow Susan communicates to me that there is nothing wrong with the way the women are behving and that I am being too sensitive. This is much more like something my Mother would say than Susan.
I go upstairs to my rented hotel room.
I am getting dressed and I see the legs of a little beige spider just peeking over the edge of my top. I try to toss it aside but it manages to rear up and bite me. When I see it I realize that it is much bigger and scarier looking than I had thought. The bite hurts and burns and immediately begins to turn color, swell, and raise up.
It must be a poisonous spider because the bite is bad and getting bigger by the second. The spider is kind of beige with brown spots. It's legs are long, thin, and knobby at the joints. I don't want to hurt the spider but I definitely want to get it out of here. I try catching it with a cup but miss. I chase it around the room and try scootching it towards a hole in the window screen. But nothing works. Then I think it would be better to kill it than let it stay and risk being bitten again, or worse having it bite Beau who is staying in this room with me, or one of the other children who keep coming up here and running around.
I've never had a bite like this, one that got so big so quickly. It's about the size of a silver dollar and growing. It completely raises off my skin in a weird wheel like shape. It must be at least an inch in heighth, is deep red and mottled, and it really frightens me. I think I should go to the hospital.
There are two more spiders in the room that I can see, making it a total of three, and there are thick webs everywhere. I am so afraid. There is another spider in front of me in a box on the floor. I know somehow that this is a wolf spider. It is brown and furry like a tarantula and is kind of hunched down and hiding. It is really big but not as big as a tarantula and later becomes super fast and agressive. I am worried about what will happen when I have to come back and sleep in this room. How will I sleep knowing there are so many spiders just waiting to come out and bite me?
I think I should go to the hospital. I think I should take a Benadryl but I am afraid to do either. I pick up the telephone and call the information operator. I screw it up somehow and can't remember something, so after the operator disconnects I pick up the phone again. I am saying something outloud to myself and someone responds over the dial tone. I am surprised to hear a voice. It is the operator. She tells me that in small towns like these the switchboard allows for the operator to be on the line all the time, so you can really just pick up the phone and speak and she can hear and help you without your having to dial any numbers.
I go into the adjoining room. There are webs here as well. I am looking for my Mom's old housekeeper Carlotta, or my Mom, to tell them what happened so someone can sweep away the spider webs and kill the poisonous biting spiders as I am too squeamish and afraid to do it myself.
Kids come in the room, I am trying to protect them. I am so afraid they will be hurt. I try to explain to Carlotta how serious the spider situation is. The wolf spider comes running in to the room, hops up onto this table and seems to be running towards us, but then it stops just short of me because it sees a piece of lettuce on a plate that it wants. It rears up to eat it. I am torn between wanting to save it and being afraid it will hurt us and wanting someone to kill it. I think Carlotta or someone squashes it with a broom.
Mom comes in so I follow her to her walk in closet and am trying to get her to care. The bite has started to shrink a bit and she doesn't react like I expected her to -- doesn't seem to care about it that much. I had thought she would panic like I am. I thought she would help me and make it all right somehow. Stuffed animals start to fall down on me from her dressing room shelves. A stuffed giraffe falls on my head and bounces off of me. I look to see if it is a Steiff but it isn't.
I am somewhere else now, in a large Victorian mansion. It is a huge house with many storys, and a lot of history -- lots of detail, mouldings, wood carvings. I wander from floor to floor noticing the thick cobwebs and warning people I run into about the spiders. Someone says, "Oh I thought these were just Halloween decorations." No one seems to be taking this spider threat too seriously, while I am thinking these are poisonous, melt your flesh, rare Australian outback, better get some anti-venom quick or you'll die soon, kinds of spiders.
I wind up on one floor of the house that seems to be the celebrity shopping floor. It's like a cross between Barney's, Fred Segal's and some backstage photo shoot area for Vogue. Gwyneth Paltrow is here and greets me warmly as if we are old friends. She hugs me and then moves on. I feel warm and happy and secure here. God how shallow am I that when I get into the makeup area and am friends with celebrities and am shopping, I finally forget about the spiders for a minute and feel safe in this whacky dream? Sigh.
I am standing next to a beautiful African American woman. She is tall and lovely, elegant and regal in her bearing. She is some famous model but I don't know exactly who. We start talking about lip gloss and colors. I am having so much fun, I want to hug her. We -- all the people in the house, the celebrities, models, make-up artists, and the moms, dads, kids, and ordinary folk, wandering up and down the stairs, are part of some group that are connected in some way, and have rented this place.
I finally leave the celebrity shopping area and go back down the stairs to one of the lower floors where I run into this guy and a couple of youngish girls. I think the guy is pretty hot looking and he surprises me by seeming interested in me which turns me on.
This place is so spooky and cool and Victorian. Despite my fear I really love this house. I am looking into what might have once been a dining room or a library with dark wood panelling everywhere. The room is rounded on one end and the windows and the glass in them is so beautiful -- wavy and bubbled like the glass that we had to special order from Belgium for my real life home.
I talk to the man and the kids about the spiders and they all react to me, respond as if they can relate and are interested, which is a huge relief after having wandered around for so long looking for anyone who I could connect with. I think the guy responds in a kindly protective way -- one of the first people to understand my arachnaphobia thing that has been going on in this dream, and he appreciates the spooky element and the antiquity of the house.
Our connection gets hotter and it becomes clear that we both really want to have sex with each other and quickly so we need to find a place fast. We go outside on a second story porch-like area to have sex, but then we see these bungalows just a slight distance away. We, our group of people, whoever we are, have rented all of this so we should be able to use any of these rooms out here that we want.
It's like an enormous hotel-like apartment complex, that branches off of the main Victorian mansion. Most of the rooms, or bungalow-like apartments, have been abandoned. All of the doors and windows are open and you can see into each of the units. The people who left, left in a big hurry and pretty much abandoned everything, so there are men's shirts strewn about and furniture and toys here and there. The furniture is a bit dusty and I am still worrying about spiders. The place we pick is the first room we come too and it's very masculine and forties in feel, lots of warm earthy brown, orange, and umber colors.
I don't even know this man but I want him so badly. This is unusual for me because, while I might find someone I don't know attractive on first sight, and feel some heat, I don't get into having casual instant sex with someone I don't know well, (been there done that a couple of times in the eighties, and once in the nineties, and it was a lonely and disconnected creepy kind of feeling, hated it), or that I'm not in love with or have deeper feelings for. I'm such a girl in this way, in real life, I'm somewhat reserved, timid and shy. I need the emotional connection and want my passion to come from love and caring rather than from a mere physical or visual thing.
This despite some of my more out there behaviors and attitudes, like my love of public nudity, my leanings towards bisexuality, my very dedicated and serious support of gay rights, my open heartedness about all things sexual, the fact that I live off of the rent I get from a nude bar, our going to Burning Man, etc. But in my actual sex life, it's been pretty safe, not that we don't have a great time, because we do, (I think we are amazing together), but it often takes a back seat to the stresses of my life, which sucks for my partner, or maybe I should say doesn't suck.
We've never had a three way or invited anyone else in. We're not polyamourous, we don't have a swing in our living room. We're not into bondage or anything too out there in terms of toys. We don't paint latex on our bodies and go out clubbing, we've never watched another couple having sex, other than on a video, we're just kind of loving and normal except that our connection is really deep and passionate and I think our sex is really wonderful and great, when we have it.
The problem is that I've loaded up my life so much that I'm too busy being overwhelmed and stressed to notice it when we've let too much time go by and haven't been having sex that much, which sucks and is sad, and could be hormonal or related to my aging or the fact that I take anti-depressants, or any number of things. Like I've said before, there's always plenty for me to work on, here never a shortage of areas for me to grow in.
But in my dreams I'm a whole other person, so masculine in my sexuality, with a super healthy, voracious sexual appetite. Sometimes I'm a man fucking women, sometimes I'm me or someone else, but I am usually pretty wild and ready to get it on with whoever I want to be with in an instant. It's like, hello, and then bam we're having sex, or there's that endless tease of our trying to find a place private enough to have sex, or we keep getting interupted -- maybe I'm just horny because it's been a while since Scott and I made love, because I've been so busy and worn out, I finally got some sleep, and I got my period. Oh well, back to the dream.
I really, really want to fuck this guy badly. I want to skip the foreplay and go straight to the fucking. I sit or kind of lay back on this low leather chair and spread my legs for him. He is kneeling against me and I grab for the zipper on his jeans. He is so hard and I am so excited about this. I pull out his cock and we are just about to fuck when a family come by with all of their stuff, hoping to check in to this weird abandoned place and see us through the open door and windows. Yikes, fast sexual shut down.
Their nanny/housekeeper spots us first and tells the mother, who for some reason looks a lot like Jamie Leigh Curtis. They are pretty horrified that we are being so sexual in such an open place, but there wasn't anyone around before so we thought we had the place to ourselves.
The husband and wife start discussing this -- the "unseemlyness" of the situation, the shabby seedy condition of the hotel -- and are trying to round up their kids before the kids see us. I feel so uncomfortable and ashamed. I want to comfort them and tell them that we didn't mean to upset them by being so openly sexual. I am a Mom too, I can understand how this might look a little shocking and weird to them. I get up and go talk to them, tell them that we'l leave and that we didn't know anyone was expected.
I leave the guy and am wandering through these apartment/hotel rooms. I want to gather up a few of these things that have been left behind. Beau is with me now and he wants me to hurry up but I have opened a drawer and am trying to gather all of these cool little toys that I know he would like. Star Wars figurines and little plastic Micro Machines and Pokemon toys and tiny little plastic people. But I don't have anything to carry them in and he wants me to hurry.
I am by myself now, walking downstairs. The place has become more modern and spread out. The Victorian mansion has disappeared and so have all of the people. These apartments are two storied and the shape of the buldings have changed. There are manicured lawns and short concrete stairs here and there. It has that kind of modern feel that could be either the fifties or the seventies.
Outside I am puzzled by the sudden abandonment of this place -- that people just kind of left quickly without taking much with them. There are hungry thin looking abandoned dogs and cats walking around. I want to help this one scruffy little dog, but an elderly lady and her granddaughter, two of the first people I've seen, want to take the dog so of course I step back and let them. I don't remember much more from this point out.
Okay gotta go. Big hugs, Jacqui
Oh God isn't this last picture, because of the costume, and the one bare breast, to die for?