Occasionally, we are not on the same page at all, he and I. We were having a perfectly innocent conversation about sex and recovery after childbirth (in the context of a friend of his). "There's pretty much a month of recovery before you can have sex again" he informs. "Is that why they call it blowjob month?" I tease. "Uh... yeah, that's pretty much the last thing either of you are thinking about..." (well, he--being a dad twice over--would know). I give my best rakish smile and flick my eyebrows upward in the come-hither-waggle, "Speaking of blowjobs... I want to give you a blowjob right now". "I want to give you a baby". Oh. Well then. That is not the retort I expected to an offer of a perfectly good blowjob.
I am working on something very specific with the goal of healing not one person, but two who need it very much. I am one of those two persons. I will do the very best that I can on this. If you have been reading since the beginning, then you truly know that I desperately need to heal. If this succeeds. I will make some very specific changes in this blog. The first change will be that I will go back and remove certain posts. The second change will be to go back and edit certain posts. After that. On the presumption that this anger which has consumed me has been dealt with. The very tone of my blog posts will change. Now that is something I look forward to. So if you commented on a post that finds itself removed. Please do not take offense. I will freely admit that it will be selfish on my part to remove things that have been a source of pain, or a memory of that pain.
Why would anyone want to have sex in an airplane bathroom? I can't even fathom. Dirty, cramped... It's like so many other fits of sexual fancy; they're much, much better in theory than in practice. Sex on the beach? Sand in the crotch. In other news, it's so crazy-busy that this is the only picture I've managed to snap even though I've been camped out in hotel rooms for days now. What day is it, even? I have no idea.