Twat? I cunt hear you. I have an ear infucktion.

My long weekend was mostly uneventful. Psychosappho and I met and she attended my softball game. I had a less than stellar game, and I can only think it might have been from anticipating the unpleasantries to come. We rode home in her purple Tacoma (how lesbian, really) with her doggie in the back jumpseat.

We threw down and romped a few times on Thursday night. Quite fun, actually. She accused me of having been practicing with women – which makes me think 2 things. 1. I wasn’t very good the first time around. 2. The ‘come here’ technique I was comfy enough to work on her the second time around actually works well. I think she came. I KNOW I did. Her fucking rabbit vibe.. my GOD I need one of those. I came so hard it almost HURT.

What hurt more tho was her saying, ‘see darling? You deserve to come like that every day, all the time. I’ll do that for you, dear…’

Later on downstairs, while chatting with my cousin, she happened to bring up the widower, in the presence of Ms. Kidman. My cuz took the first opportunity to bring to my attention two things. 1. Ms. Kidman has a very grating laugh which she uses ALL THE TIME. 2. The pain and jealousy on her face when the widower was brought up were nearly tangible.

Friday I took ms. Kidman to the state fair. It was pretty fun, although she kept trying to be openly affectionate. I wanted to be like, uhhh honey, it’s NH – they shoot dykes like us here! Then we came back home to chill and await the great stuff unloading.

The widower called while she was luxuriating, post romp on my bed. When I hung up the phone with him, I glanced over at her – she looked physically pained. “what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I think maybe I’m just not cut out for this… I guess I’m just too jealous of a person,” she said.
I tried not to too whole-heartedly or enthusiastically agree. Next thing I know she’s CRYING. She says she doesn’t know why, and I find myself lamely pattering ‘well, you know I don’t want to do anything that hurts you, and I’m sorry, but I’ve been nothing but honest from the get-go.’

We left it on decent terms. As I write this, she’s actually instant messaging me offering to take care of me in my illness.

I sent her on her way Friday night and began preparing for my date with the widower. The date consisted of an AWESOME home cooked meal and LOTS of vodka for me. Unfortunately, about half way thru the evening, my right ear started acting up with SHOOTING PAINS.
We spent a lot of time cuddling and talking. I learned, in detail, the story of his wife’s sickness and eventual demise. Very touching, and I felt very special that he was ready to share it with me.
I’m not jumping right back into the whole baliwick with the widower. Before I started this blog, right after nofan and I cut the cords, he and I began dating seriously, and WAY TOO FAST. My little foray into monogamy ended at the painful intersection of not ready and freaking out (on his part) which started me on my recent ass quest in earnest.
I’m not falling for it again. I can see that somehow, someday, there might be something with him. All his little Type A foibles should compliment my disorganized self pretty well. And he wants the wife to stay at home and pop out babies, which, incidentally, is a role I relish. I would be happy to find work at home, take in other kids/what have you.. but my children will not go to daycare.

Wow, is the kids thing freaking you out, dear readers?

Anyway, rest of the weekend was totally uneventful. I just slept A LOT and rode my motorcycle. Got on the bus to the big city this morning, and the doctor confirms, ‘yes Erica, you have an ear infection!’
So hopefully these antibiotics will make the earmuff feeling cease and desist post haste. Because in 3.5 hours I have a softball game to play.
Joy.

Send well wishes to ericalooking@gmail.com

That is all.