I'm still sick, grrrr, but I swear I am going to get myself to bed early, and I am going to make it to my friend Susan's one woman show preview tomorrow no matter what. I just have to.
Scott just caught the stomach flu part of this bug that we've been passing around here. He gave us the cold part of it and we gave him the stomach flu back. Me so sorry. Poor man.
I saw the best movie last night, really late last night, on HBO called
I want to buy this bead collection on eBay. And it's only THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY DOLLARS!!! Dang it. Why, why are all of the cool things so darned expensive?
Beau almost persuaded me to buy him a scampering wiggly baby beagle at the pet store yesterday, but when I reminded him that we already have three dogs, a billion cats, bunnies, rats, ferrets, a chinchilla, and a lizard, (am I forgetting anyone?) and that if we got anyone else he or she should come from the shelter, he finally settled for three mice.
I love mice but we have a super poor track record with them. It's like we have some kind of mouse curse, the black finger of tiny rodent death, they just always die on us, and in truly horrible ways. We had a mama mouse eat all her babies and scatter bits of their bodies around her cage, that was stunningly awful. Several more mice made a daring escape out of one of their little plastic tubes (we had temporarily put them in the shower to protect them from the cats while we were doing something in Beau's room) and somehow lowered themselves down the shower drain, preventing our entire family from being able to shower for two weeks, because I was so afraid they were just sitting down there trying to figure out how to get back up and we'd inadvertently drown them. Bluebell (one of our cats) broke into Beau's room, ripped the top off of one of our mouse cages and had herself a feast. One batch of mice came with some kind of mousey sickness and despite veterinary intervention and tiny little mouse antibiotics died anyway. Several mice fought each other to the death, leaving us with the one remaining super cannibal mouse who we didn't exactly feel like cuddling up with. One mouse just disintegrated, leaving behind a pile of dried up fur. And then there was the cute wild mouse we found on the porch a few weeks ago, the one we nursed back to health only to have it leap from our hands, out of the safety of the shower (showers are where we usually nurse little creatures back to health), into my bedroom where it met it's death-by-cat one day later. It might sound like we neglect these wee mouse people, but you know how neurotic I am with pets, we just have bad luck, so cross your
fingers for us.
I finally had a chance to watch some more of those tapes I bought from Video Voyeur. Most of the Burning Man ones are pretty bad, boring grainy shots of women's boobs and pubes, and super badly filmed and transferred. But the Lake Havasu one, the one I bought on a lark, kind of blew me away. It starts out with all of these unattractive stupid looking guys, "WOOOOHOOOOO!!!!! Show us your titties!!!" and some cute, but super young girls, sitting or standing around drinking and flashing for beads on these little boats. Then it progresses to more intense girl on girl sex acts involving hands, mouths, fingers and strap-ons. I mean these people were prepared for their partying.
It's like they've taken those Girls Gone Wild videos to the water. It's weird because none of the men get involved, they're all standing around filming this, and the women are letting them. Why? I don't get it. Girls eating each other out and hundreds of people cheering them on. Then nothing but flashing happens for a while and suddenly two more gals will couple up and everyone will hoot and cheer and swim over with their cameras. The guys get excited when one of the girls seems like she might do something for them to watch, so someone will shove some cheap plastic beads at her to encourage her. Ooooh yeah I wanna get naked and let some other girl eat me out on camera for a five cent white plastic bead necklace. I mean I sort of understand the excitement of being wild and crazy and public, but there's no connection, no real intimacy, everyone is messing around with everyone else just so someone will videotape them doing it, and none of the guys are getting laid. While Burning Man might sound somewhat similar it isn't at all, it's a whole different scene, much deeper. The people are about a billion times more interesting too. Scott was bored out of his mind which I thought was pretty funny. Here I was sharing some gal on gal porn for his pleasure and there he was yawning. I love that he is more discerning about porn.
I feel so old and disconnected from all of this wild Spring Break public romp around sexuality. I might want to flash in there like Samantha on Bewitched and watch the action for about twenty minutes, but then I'd want to wiggle my nose and get back on out of there. I wonder how this is affecting us as a society, what this is doing to relationships? If this is what people do for entertainment, what do they do when all of the screwing stops? I mean how do you sustain something like that for days and days? What do you do in between your videotaped sexual acting out? Do they all get together and barbecue and pretend they didn't just rip each other apart with rubber 'Rock Cocks'? "Hey Jenny will you pass me the teriyaki sauce?" "Sure Tina just give me a sec. to wash off all of this Astro Glide and beer."
I have so much more to tell you but I feel too ill to sit up much longer and write it all up. Shoot. Okay well, I guess I'll catch up with all of you one of these days. My dreams have been wildly interesting lately and bit by creeping bit we are putting things in order. My favorite moment today was when I was asking Scott to make me accountable for tapering off the pain meds I've been taking. I said, "I want you to stay on top of me with this," and he said, "Of course I will, that's my favorite place to be, on top of you." I'm sure you've heard some variation on this theme before, but coming from my man it made me swoon.