A Wonderful Birthday With a Dash of Oddness

Yesterday was my birthday. I certainly can't complain about it but it turned out to have a little bit of what I'll call "amiable strangeness" to it.

It began in a normal enough way. My mom called me at 9 in the morning and demanded that I come over later in the day. Truth is, I would have gone over to their house anyway. Certainly my mom and dad would want to see their only child on her 28th birthday. Thank god they did not make a big deal out of it. My mother baked a small cake and the three of us had a slice apiece. They bought me this very nice silky white blouse as a gift. In fact, I had no cause to ask for the receipt. I will actually wear it and have absolutely no reason to return it. Good job Mom!  

A little later I watched some college football with my father. I got back to my place about 4pm or so. Not too much later I got a call from Mike, my only actual long-term (like, years) boyfriend. I have not heard from him in almost two years. Needless to say, I was very surprised to hear his voice. In fact, it was almost spooky. We had a fifteen minute conversation, or thereabouts. It was very pleasant. He asked me what I was doing, and I ask him the same. He is now living in Ohio. We even exchanged a few silly memories from our days together. I hate to admit it, but through the entire fifteen minutes I had this fear that he was going to ask something of me. Somewhere in the back of my head were a couple of possibilities, possibilities such as him wanting to visit me, or even him suggesting that we try again and start anew. But he never did any of those things. He simply wanted to give me a call and wish me a happy birthday. 

Last night Marty took me out to dinner at an Asian restaurant, the Golden Temple. Great food. After we ordered, Marty gave me my birthday present. It came in a small, flip-top box. It was this beautiful set of blue quartz earrings. I do not know how much they cost. I was, and still am a little afraid to ask. But I love them, so maybe they will be worth the price.

During dinner I told Marty of the call from Mike. I think I described the call as sociable and I admitted that it did seem a little bit weird, at least initially. Marty asked me if it was in any way traumatic for me, hearing from an old boyfriend. I thought about it for a second and then said that no, just a bit surreal. Marty is not the kind of guy to feel romantic jealousy as far as our relationship is concerned. It's not in his nature and besides, I let him know beyond any doubt that as far as I'm concerned, he's the guy.     

Down the Road With Marty

I do not know if my boyfriend, Marty, will be reading this or not. I am pretty sure he won’t, but he might. In some ways I hope he does read it, in other ways I hope he doesn’t. But either way, I feel like I have to write it. Here is goes…

I don’t know if Marty and I will be together six months from now, let alone in the years beyond. I do know that right now things are going great between us. I also know that if we are together in six or eight months we will not be sharing the same relationship that we are having now. I have been down this road before and I know.

As the weeks and months go by, Marty and I will be less desirous of each other physically. That is one of the rules stipulated by Mother Nature placed upon most of the animal kingdom, including human animals. The sexual lust will have to be replaced by something else if our relationship is to survive. The simple word for what will be needed is friendship. But it cannot be an ordinary friendship. It must be a loving friendship. It entails such things as quick kisses, casual snuggles, and backrubs. It requires various acts such as his telling me I look hot in a new dress, and me telling Marty that his tee shirt makes him look like a young Bruce Willis.

I will come to love some of Marty’s idiosyncrasies, while at the same time become annoyed by others. It will be the same for Marty. It will irk him when I decide to vacuum the carpet while he tries to watch some action movie on the TV. But the sound of my idiotic laugh will always make him smile. Hopefully the trade-off will be more than enough.

The amorous moments will become less frequent, and they will be more blissfully warm rather than fervidly hot. There will be less sexual intensity and more sexual playfulness, and we’ll be okay with that.

We will support each other, help each other, and worry about each other. We will listen to each other’s thoughts, ideas, wants, and fears. Perhaps together, years down the road, we will see the day when I glance into a mirror and in a wistful voice complain about my encroaching gray hair. Marty will tenderly place his hand upon my shoulder and say, “Actually, I think the gray hair looks pretty good.” It will not matter that he is not stating the truth. The only thing will matter is that he still wants to please this older Katie and make her feel good, and so he says it.       

If I Had Just One Month To Live

This goofy blog is called Katie’s Thoughts On Stuff. I might as well throw in a blog entry that has some weird thoughts that have gone through my head recently.

The other day I wondered what I would do if I were told that I had a month to live. Throughout the entire month I would be in perfect health, that is; until I suddenly dropped to the ground, dead.

It might be as interesting as the actual question just figuring out why I came up with this morose hypothetical situation. I don’t know where the notion came from. It might have come from the scare I got when I had my vertigo episode in the middle of the night a few months ago. That might have planted the seeds to such thoughts. A few days ago I found a freshly dead rabbit just off a wood lot trail. Maybe that had something to do with it.

Anyway, to the actual question: if I knew I was going to die and I had one month to live. One thing I know for sure; I would start eating strictly for pleasure. I would consume large quantities of sweet, fatty foods. I would gobble down pizzas, ice cream, and huge slices of my favorite flavor of cake; chocolate. Yes, I would eat as if there was no tomorrow simply because, well, there essentially would be no tomorrow.

I would drive a lot faster. I would drive faster because I would want to get from one place to another as quickly as possible, and also, for the thrill of the speed. I might take up something like skydiving or scuba diving. I would not bother with the required lessons and various instructions. Training would take too much valuable time and besides, if I were to make a fatal mistake, the loss would be minimal.

Oddly, I do not know if I would add a significant amount of sexual activity into my schedule. I have said many times in this idiotic blog that I do enjoy sensuous endeavors, but I’m not sure I would want to use the approximately 30 minutes needed to achieve satisfaction. After all, I have only a month to live. But I would definitely want some sexual exercise.

On a slightly more serious note; if I had but a month to live, I would probably be frightened of the impending death, the dark mystery of it all. However, as a sincere atheist, I would not use any time praying. There would be no need for a priest or minister. I really am an atheist.

Fortunately the whole scenario is just hypothetical. In reality, I would be disappointed if I did not live another 50 years and make it into my late 70s. I have no strategy in place, but to be honest, I have every intention of going beyond 100. I intend on seeing my own birthday cake glowing with a century’s worth of candles. And oh yes, I’ll want that cake to be chocolate.        

Before Breakfast

This is really kind of cool; I am writing a blog entry while my guy, Marty, is about twenty or thirty feet away in the other bedroom asleep. The doors are opened so I can hear him when he shifts around and makes little weird breathing sounds. This is a first and I probably don't have much time so I'm going to make this brief.

The weather out the window is bright, sunny, and pretty cold. I think it is under 40 degrees. In the next hour or so Marty will awake and we will have breakfast together; probably two Swanson’s microwave scrambled egg breakfasts, and coffee. Then we might partake in a little bedroom physical activity. But before noon I am going to see what’s outdoors. Right now I’m thinking of headed over to the Boston Nature Center and Wildlife Sanctuary. The place tends to be a little too crowded and urban for my tastes, but it has been a while since I’ve been there so I think that will be my destination.

I’m thinking about actually making something for dinner tonight for Marty and me, something non-microwave, or at least mostly non-microwave. That sentence expresses a task I do not attempted often; perhaps two or three times a month. Marty has been talking about losing a little weight so I am going to be trying to fix something healthy and at least somewhat low cal. I’m thinking of a casserole and a soup. I want to prepare a dinner, but I don’t want to spend a lot of time doing it, so it won’t be anything terribly complicated. Sometimes I’ll get a little domesticated, but never too domesticated.      

Dinner With Melissa and Marty

I had a very fun time with Marty, my suitor, and his 11 year-old daughter, Melissa. I met them at a Five Guys restaurant on Saturday evening. I arrived there first and took a table. When they came through the door a few minutes later I stood and waved. Marty gave me a return wave, and pointed me out to Melissa, whereupon she came bolting over to me and gave me a warm hug that made me feel very good inside. Judging by the hug, I must have gotten some good reviews. I do not think I’ve ever been hugged by a young girl since I was a young girl myself. That sounds like the answer to some sort of personal trivia question, but I think it’s kind of an interesting observation. I have no nieces, and none of my friends have daughters that age, let alone daughters that might want to hug me.

There was a funny moment just after the hug. Melissa said that she thought I was too pretty to be dating a guy like her father, and I quickly said that I thought she was too pretty to be the daughter of someone like her father. Marty got this funny expression on his face and sarcastically groaned, “Girls, come on, I’m standing right here and can hear everything you’re saying.” I’m sure glad Marty has both a sense of humor and is self-confident.

Melissa is just entering what I consider life’s most awkward age. She is into drawing things like dragons and unicorns. She showed me some of her work. She is really pretty good. But I’d bet anything that in a few years there won’t be any dragons or wolves being drawn, or anything else. She’ll probably be into having the latest awesome clothes, and being cool. A year or so beyond that and she’ll want to borrow the car. And then if everything goes right and she gets lucky, there will be college.

Geesh, I’ve met Melissa once and already I’ve got her in college. But I just gaze at her over a restaurant table and I see the possible trails that could be taken through the next few years, and some of the pitfalls along those trails. She’s a nice girl, a real cutie. I’m sure she’ll be alright.

On a totally different subject, Tuesday I went to a therapist for the Brandt–Daroff exercise to address my vertigo. I was afraid it would make me sick to my stomach with motion sickness. I was told that can happen. The exercise created some short-lived grade-A vertigo, but I felt only mild nausea. The whole visit took about 15 minutes. The exercise itself took about 5. Supposedly it will require several visits with the vertigo subsiding with each subsequent visit. Unfortunately the exercise is not guaranteed to work. I did not ask about refunds.   

Breaking the Climax Barrier

I do not know how other women feel about sex, but I am pretty sure that compared to most women I have an above average libido. Simply put; I enjoy sex. Nevertheless, I did not experience a sexual climax with a guy for several years until about a week ago. My guess is that with Marty around, I will experience them rather routinely from now on. I know I have this past week.

I have wondered why I happened to break through this barrier when I did. I tend to wonder about stuff. The evening last week when I broke through the “climax barrier”, when Marty first came through the door he asked me how my day had gone, and then almost in the same breath, he proclaimed that he wanted me to meet his 11 year-old daughter, Melissa. He stated that he thought we would really hit it off. I know this is going to sound idiotic, but the very request completely blew me away. I almost cried with joy. What brought on the elation was the simple notion that Marty was allowing me into the most treasured, guarded corner of his life. I think that’s what did it for me. Marty’s thoughtful gesture put me, my psyche, into a different place where all the sexual hindrances were gone and I could fully let go. I could be wrong about all of that. It's just a theory. But I know that a couple of hours later the “climax barrier” disintegrated.        

Tonight I’m meeting Melissa for the first time. I am to rendezvous with Marty and Melissa at a Five Guys restaurant. I can hardly wait. Melissa and I will have a lot to talk about. However I will not tell her about the wondrous thing our meeting has done to my sex life… at least not for a few years.