Lots of relationship stuff going on in my head, but not much of it makes good copy, at least in this space. Too much thinking about the future is not good for me. It's not that the present sucks, but it has been quiet.
Since coming home from Penny's house Sunday night, I've spent five straight days at home, mostly alone except for Tara coming over Monday and today, and frequent phone updates from Penny, who has been having an inversely busy week to my languid one. But it's the first full week I've spent at home in the last two months, so that's different. Part of the blame falls on the weather, and part on the fact that I'm planning on marching in Sunday's Pride parade in New York, so I know there's activity to come. At least I've been sending out lots of resumes, landing a job interview next Tuesday in Cranford, NJ. Plus, I'm looking forward to a nice Saturday night of dinner, cards and movie at my place with my family.
I had one of my wacky dreams last night where Tara was involved in some kind of espionage activity, and got shot in the leg in New Orleans. I was visiting her at the hospital there, and my friend Reid (the co-inventor of Cuddle Party) was in the next bed. We watched as he was receiving theraputic flogging from his Cuddle Party partner Marcia and my friend Diana ("Diana Adams on TV" - March 4, 2009) using a stick with a rubber ball attached to the end with a short rope. I asked Tara if she wanted me to try that on her, and she strenuously refused.
I left the hospital intending to take a bicycle tour of Bourbon Street, even though it was raining quite heavily. As I got back to my car to get my bike, a resident of a nearby apartment hailed me and asked me to help him fix his clothes washer, which was making a lot of noise. I told him the load was probably unbalanced, but it that wasn't it, he should ask his superintendent to fix it. Then I got on my bike and went on my way in the rain.
Since I was dreaming of New Orleans, this evening I got a box of Popeye's spicy fried chicken for dinner, one of the few things I enjoyed eating in Houston that I can get here in New Jersey. What I really miss are 24-hour Taco Cabanas; the only fast food open 24 hours here is McDonalds, which I will only eat in an emergency.
Anyway, not much else to say. Next week will probably be more eventful, and I'll try to take some pictures Sunday - it's my first time marching in any kind of parade.
