In which I talk about an ex-boyfriend for a long time, as an illustration of the It Takes A Village concept (but as it applies to adults, not children).

In the mid- to late 90’s I was living off campus in a house on Kirkwood with Cat and M.P. when MLD moved in. He had this monster sex vibe – you could literally feel him walking in the front door down the hall before you could see him. He was only my height, maybe an inch shorter, but he vibed like a linebacker. (I’ve noticed that small/er men, least the ones who aren’t off on some Napoleon complex, often have really fantastic sex vibes. Mmm.) One thing led to another and eventually we were if not seeing each other then at least sleeping together. I think we told people we were “meditating together”; we’d go in my room at program time, meditate, then have great sex. (The man could totally eat pussy, let me tell you. I mean, OH MY GOD could he EVER. I’d tell you all about it except this really isn’t That Sort Of Blog.)

Anyway, I dropped out of MIU around this time because they’d finally pissed me off too much, and I ended up working full-time at Telegroup while I applied to the University of New Mexico.

The era at the Kirkwood house ended, and MLD and I ended up summering with T. & D. at this fucked up country house they were housesitting. (The house was huge and disgusting, and somehow three couples ended up there that summer, but the story of the house and all the strange shit that happened there – all three couples had identical fights over and over – is a whole ‘nother post.) When the summer was over, T. & D. loaded me and my shit into their truck and drove me to school in Albuquerque.

I’d asked MLD to come with me on several occasions. He was miserable in Iowa and had nothing else to do – not in school, no job, many of his friends and classmates had moved away – but he declined. And declined. And declined.

Okay, so, he’ll fuck me, but he doesn’t really like me enough to move three states away even though he clearly hates it here. Okay, fine. Story of my life. Whatever.

In which I can’t think of anything clever, so will bore you with a few mundane details just so you know I’m thinking of you.

My fingers still hurt from playing my guitar.

I’m not sure I’m in love with the idea of an always-home, unemployed husband. Ahem. (He just read this line and said, “Why?” I said, “Because you’re in my space.” He sort of chuckled and went out to do something butch with his chainsaw.)

I suck at writing lyrics, which is weird for a vocalist. Don’t you think?

Band practice last night devolved into a two-hour discussion – with pizza and beer – in PK’s living room. I had so much fun. I adore those people. We didn’t play much, but it was fun to hang out.

I’m sick of doing laundry. I do so much goddamned laundry you’d think there were six of us living here instead of two.

I believe I’ll go make a huge pot of chili now. Hope your day is fantastic.

In which I complain, and confess to having a mysterious rash. (No, no no no, not THERE. Christ, what’s wrong with you?)

The plastic zipper on my down-filled vest sucks. It catches on nothing and it always takes me multiple tries to get it unzipped. If the vest wasn’t so warm I wouldn’t put up with this shit.

It’s cold outside. I don’t dig it. If it were summer, I wouldn’t have to wear down vests in the first place, I’d be wearing a tank and a skirt and my Birks and it would be fantastic.

In other news, I have a weird rash on my palms. Both of them. It’s a bunch of tiny little subcutaneous blister-like dots. I have no idea what it is – I’ve never seen anything like this anywhere on my body. It started several days ago as an itchy patch at the base of my right thumb, then it went away, and yesterday afternoon it came back all over both palms and up my right pinkie finger. The sensation is a combination of burning tightness and itchiness.

As I’ve always got minor abrasions on my hands in the winter from handling firewood, I’m assuming it’s some relative of the ringworm/jock itch/athlete’s foot fungus, and that Lamasil or something similar will remove it… except I’ve had ringworm, and this isn’t ring-shaped. Then again, maybe I have lupus. Or herpes. Or Rocky Mountain spotted fever!

Or maybe I’m just dehydrated and a little bit toxic.

Update: Well, now it’s November 2008 and I see that this page gets a lot of hits. My rash went away by itself. I now believe it was the result of toxicity; I was under a lot of stress at the time and I’d been doing non-OTC drugs regularly.