Sunday, November 30, 2014

My Overnight Guest



I had an overnight guest last night; Terry. He left this morning about a half hour ago. Last evening was our third time out together. I usually don't become fully intimate with a guy that quickly but to be honest... painfully honest, I have been needy lately, needy in ways only a man can satisfy. I did not know when the evening began that Terry would be staying over. He did not know either, of course. It was just sort of a spur of the moment thing. When I asked him to stay, for a few seconds he thought I was joking. We were standing there with our arms around each other and when I gave a little smile, and squeezed him a little tighter, he knew I was serious. He still gave it a few seconds of thought, but he finally gave a little nod.

Terry did not ask about birth control or condoms. I thought he might, but he didn't. I don't too much concern myself with condom use. I guess I figure that if I'm going to know a guy well enough to ask him to sleep with me, I know him well enough to trust him in other ways. As for birth control, that has not an issue since I was 18 years old.

As for the evening, I will say only that Terry was sweet, sometimes funny, and a provider of what I needed. What I needed was intimacy in all its forms; sexual fulfillment, contentment, and the simple warmth of an affectionate male companion through the night. Hopefully Terry enjoyed the evening too.

I do worry that the suddenness of the evening might negatively change Terry's opinion of me in some way, after all, I really like him. If I didn't like him he would not have been an overnight guest last night. I hope he understands that. I think he does. Neither of us is 19 years old.

As I often do, I will now sit here and try to decide if I really want to publish this blog entry. If you are reading this, then I must have decided to click the "Publish" button.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Complete Relaxation

Today I'm off to my parents for Thanksgiving. I'll help my mom with the bird, yams, salad and various other fixings. Dinner will be at its traditional Thanksgiving time; 3 PM. I think my Uncle Wayne is going to have dinner with us. I'll find out for sure when I get there.

Last night I did something I have not done before in my life, god only knows why I've neglected this practice. Last night I took a warm bubble bath with a glass of red wine alongside. In fact, sitting on the bathroom floor a few inches from the tub was the bottle of merlot. Truth is, I had two glasses and a splash; just about half a bottle. Wow, was it relaxing. I put on headphones, listened to some meditation music, and laid back. Utter serenity. It's a wonder I did not drown. I thought about having a couple of scented candles flickering along the edge of the tub, but I didn't want to go overboard with the notion.

Of course there is a price to be paid for such tranquility. Today I have dry, itchy skin, courtesy of a combination of spending time in the cold weather, contrasted with the warm, sudsy water. When my skin gets a little dry it just itches annoyingly. When it gets very dry a red rash appears that itches incessantly. Today I have a couple of patches of redness. Lotions have little effect on my dry skin. I just have to suffer for a few days. Still, I think it was worth it. It was forty-five minutes of peaceful, wine-aided bliss. I'll have to go back to that place again sometime. It'll be sometime after my skin recovers.  

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Early Onset Nostalgia

I was about to go home for the day when I stop and reminisced about a few things from long ago. That led me to the notion that I am pretty nostalgic. I've known for a while that I'm something of a sentimentalist. So much so that I thought I might as well stop and spend a minute or two to write about it in my blog while it was on my mind.

So, yes, I'm not yet 30 years old and I have these odd bouts of nostalgia or sentimentality. Sometimes I wonder if this condition might be linked to my various difficulties with depression I've mentioned in this goofball blog. They aren't too terribly different, when it comes right down to it. It's as if the two conditions kind of overlap.

Unlike depression, I actually like being nostalgic. I sometimes think back to when I was about six or eight years old. I can recall riding up and down the street on my bicycle with hardly a care in the world. I recently visited my parents and I happened to half jokingly mention to my mother the birthday party I had when I turned six years old. My mom immediately disappeared only to return ten minutes later with a handful of photos from that afternoon. I still remember the names of every one of those eight kids seen in the pictures.

My mother is painfully nostalgic. She still occasionally meets with friends she first knew almost fifty years ago. She always goes to class reunions. She would not miss one. I have asked her why exactly she enjoys such things. Without missing a beat, she stated that she likes to think about the days when she was younger. If class reunions consisted of nothing but former classmates discussing their ailments, or passing around photos of their grandchildren, I'm sure that my mother would never attend. For my mom, it's about revisiting the past. I kind of know what she means.

My father likes to stay as youthful as possible, but he doesn't really harken back to his bygone days. Now and then he will mention someone from his past, but that's about as far as it goes. I guess in at least one respect, I take after my mom.

I think it is true that a person views their memories through rose-colored glasses. I distinctly remember having a wonderful time at age seven speeding down the sidewalk on my bicycle. Oddly, I do not remember crashing once. Given that I am something of a klutz, I know there had to have been some disastrous wrecks complete with tears. I don't remember one of them.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Saturday Morning Thoughts Concerning Friday Evening


Sometimes I wonder how much I should say in my stupid blog. It usually ends up that I say pretty much what I want. After all, what's a blog for? Well, here I go again...

Yesterday, Friday evening, I went out for a drink with a guy named Terry, our first time out together. As I think I said in a previous entry, I was looking forward to it with excitement and nervousness. Both of those emotions seemed to intensify throughout Friday and into the early evening. I actually felt a bit of relief when Terry finally showed up.

We went to a nearby pub and took a small booth. Terry ordered a beer and for no good reason, I decided on a white wine. We had a very nice conversation. Most of it was light and breezy. I did my fair share of idiotic giggling. The evening did include my telling him in detail of my cognitive disorders. It is very difficult to explain things that don't seem to make sense, but I did the best I could. If Terry did not quite "get it", he at least seemed to be understanding. That's all I could ask. Terry in turn talked briefly about his marriages, and the mistakes he made in them. He seemed very honest.

Somewhere along the way I realized that I was once again enjoying the company of a man in a potentially romantic manner. It's funny what comes into someone's head, especially my head.

We chatted for about two hours and then Terry said that he had to work the following day so we had better call it a night. I would have gladly allowed the evening to go on for another hour or more, but the approximately two hours was good enough. We planned to go out for only a drink, after all.

Terry took me home and walked me to the door. I asked him if he wanted to step inside, and he did. I remember that I took off my coat while Terry stood by the door with his coat on. I gingerly, but deliberately, stepped close enough to him to where he could take me by the hand or step closer and put his arm around me. He seemed a little bit undecided so I gathered some courage and moved a half step closer. When he placed a hand gently on my shoulder, I moved even closer yet. That seem to do it and he put both of his arms around me, which was my goal. Though it was not exactly what I would call a heated embrace, it was nice.

Terry told me he had a great time. He then casually, almost unconsciously ran his fingertips soothingly up and down my back. That felt wonderful, which I'm sure Terry did not realize. He followed it with a short kiss. That did not feel too bad, either. It was a tiny romantic moment at the end of a pleasant little evening. It has definitely been a while for me; too long.

I'm not going to sit here and declare that Terry is some amazing guy, or our brief time together was something that is going to go down in the annals of great romantic escapades, but it was all I could have asked for and more. I was not disappointed by Terry or the evening. I hope we see each other again. I hope he feels the same.

And those are my thoughts concerning Friday evening.



Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Recharging With Terry

Well, come Friday I am going out for a drink with Terry, a guy I just met at my fitness center. I mentioned him in a previous blog entry. I am experiencing the standard stuff; excitement mixed with nervousness. I think I am a little less nervous than usual because Terry seems to have a sizable sense of humor. I think I need that from a guy at this point in my life. Still, he is not overbearing with it. His voice is not loud, nor does he continually chatter. I think another factor is that I now meditate daily at the behest of my therapist. Meditation takes a little practice, but I think it is helpful, if not a cure-all, for mild emotional disorders.

Terry is a little older. He is 38. That would not come as a surprise to anyone who has ever read this nitwit blog. I seem to gravitate to older guys. I met him at a fitness center, so of course he is relatively physically fit. That is not to say that he is going to enter a Mr. Universe contest (or whatever those bodybuilding contests are called). He has been married twice, which doesn't bother me much at all, for some reason. Besides, it's not like I've stayed with the same guy for the last ten years. And heck, it's just a first date.  

I'm glad I'm getting going again, socially, and emotionally. That's really the point of this blog entry and why I decided to write it; I'm returning to my life. It's not as if I'm totally recharged. It's more like I am in the recharging process and going out with Terry is a part of that. It's actually good to once again feel the excitement and yes, the nervousness too. They are part of life and that's what I plan to be doing; living.  

Monday, November 17, 2014

A Fool For a Sense of Humor

I have not had much of a love life lately. Let me be more succinct; I have not had a love life lately. This has been largely due to a bout with depression/anxiety. I simply have not felt like being sociable. I have spent time working, visiting the fitness center, wandering the internet, and watching TV, specifically Boston Bruin games, classic movies, and the news.  My libdo has been largely intact but when a person does not feel sociable, that libido doesn't go very far.

I have been feeling better lately. I started out several months ago going to a therapist a few times a week. As the months have gone by I have slowly felt better and have visited my therapist less and less frequently. Following a visit today, my next visit with a therapist is tenatively scheduled for the middle of December. That can be cancelled, depending on how I feel.

A few days ago I briefly spoke with a guy at my fitness center. He was standing at the exit looking out through the glass door, contemplating his trek to his car through a cold rain. As I stood a few feet away, I began searching for my car keys in various pockets. Out of nowhere he mumbled, "This wild weather is supposedly a result of a vortex. A vortex? I thought that my athletic gear was made of vortex."

Apprently I have been out of circulation longer than I realized because I instantly dissovled into hysterics. To be fair, his comedic timing was spot-on; at least I thought so.

The fates must be on my side because yesterday the same guy was on an ellyptical, and as it turned out, he was on the ellyptical right next to the one I decided to use (okay, my using that particular ellyptical may not have been a coincidence). I said hello to him and he gave a brief glance my way, then realizing who I was, returned the glance, allowing it to remain. An instant later came the smile I hoped would follow. I jokingly told him that I was wearing fitness gear made of vortex. His smile became a grin as we continued to pedal our ellypticals. He then told me, off-handedly, that he is a fan of Groucho Marx. Without missing a beat I replied, "one moring I shot an elephant in my pajamas... how he got in my pajamas I'll never know."

Obviously I have watched a lot of classic movies these months.Too many, considering I know Groucho Marx dialogue. But this Friday evening might be different. I just finished a two hour telephone conversation with a funny, nice guy. It seems that Friday I will be socializing.        
   

Thursday, November 6, 2014

A Quick End To Frustration

I decided to buy a new sofa. I actually put a little bit of money into it. It is yet to be delivered but yesterday I got the bright idea that I might need an end table; a resting place for my tub of popcorn, glass of wine, and TV remote as I reclined on my sofa. I saw some decent looking end tables on the internet at Affordable Furniture... well, at least the photos were decent looking. I went to the store and it was then I found out that the end table I liked was made by Sauder and needed home assembly. I asked a woman salesperson if the furniture was difficult to put together. She informed me she has assembled some furniture and she was confident that I could put together a simple end table. I already had the required screwdriver and pliers.

I bought the unassembled end table, drove home and slid everything out of the box onto my living room floor. The first thing I did was locate the directions. Step #1 was the attaching of one mechanical part to another. I think the parts were for the table's sliding drawer, but I'm not sure. I'm not sure because I could not get one of the pieces to connect into the other. I stared at the illustrated directions closely. I definitely had the correct two pieces, but it was no good, I simply could not figure how the one piece could possibly attach to the other piece. After about ten minutes of trying to figure out the puzzle, I gave up. Annoyed and frustrated, I dropped all of the panels, table legs, etc., into the box, tossed in the screws, bolts and sundry hardware, and quickly tapped the box closed with about fifteen feet of Scotch tape. About a half hour after making the purchase, I was back at Affordable Furniture returning my unmade end table.

It would have been nice, or at least a bit consoling if I had at least gotten beyond step #1. On the other hand, it is nice that I did not waste two hours putting things together only to get stymied on Step #6, or worse; step #14. It looks like if I'm going to have a decent, new end table at the end of my new sofa, I'm going to have to spend more than $59.95. That's okay, I'll pay it if nothing else; to avoid the agony.