Tired Blondie means pouting Loony; rambling about my Romantic Quest as sparked by V's grilling

My timing for calling Darkside today was abysmal: I wound up talking to him about a grand total of five minutes, which was a bit long for his state of exhaustion (I don't think he entirely processed the perky and delighted tale of my potential promotion in duties) and a bit short for our mutual decompression. We'll have to do better next week, then, and work out a game plan for a new schedule if that's what happens.

V came over to drop off her laptop (she'd forgotten she'd not brought it back in here before she went home last night) and we went off to Fry's Electronics to return the shredder she'd gotten as an un-appreciated gift. She grilled me on my intentions towards Darkside, and how, exactly, that was supposed to work out, what with the matter of my patience, what the man's got that I want, and what exactly is keeping me from waiting forever and all.

( My undermind is an interesting place. At least *I* understand it. )

As long as I haven't given up on Darkside, I'll wait. While I'm waiting, I'm still not dead. If someone would make a good mate, they'll make a good friend. I'll never again make the mistake of attempting to make a mate of someone who wasn't a good friend. Not all good friends will make good mates, but a bad friend will never make a good mate. I can't expect anyone to immediately outrank the history that Darkside and I have, but I do know that if anyone's ever going to challenge Darkside's place as senior bondmate, they're going to have to build up an equal or greater history of trust and compatibility. I'm poly. I can allow others to build up affection and trust without having my bond with Darkside threatened.

In Lackey's Last Herald-Mage series, there was commentary near the end about not turning away smaller, humbler blazes after warming one's self at a large and glorious fire of some sort, as a neatly footnoted analogy to not turning away friendship and lesser loves after surviving the absence of a Great Love. The difficulty with people lecturing me on that topic is that I'm not turning away lesser loves. What I'm doing is not making the mistake of lying to myself and attempting to convince myself that a lesser love is a Great Love.

Fwd: Chain Letter for Discouraged Women (now with a new political twist)

Dear Friends,
> This chain letter was started in hopes of bringing
> relief to other tired
> and dis- couraged women. Unlike most chain letters,
( this one does not cost anything. )

Fwd: Christmas with Louise (a blow-up doll at Christmas; havoc ensues.)

This is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to find out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. This won first prize.

Christmas With Louise

As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. ( Enter the blow-up doll. )

Fwd: Miss Bea (a story about a condom)

Miss Bea, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was much admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. ( Read more... )