Daily LIfe, Part 2
Jul. 25th, 2003 03:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanI should add that, because my version of Opera doesn't work with the New Improved Live Journal, and I like my version of Opera and am suspicious of all new things, I finally got it together to download Semagic, with which I am blissfully happy.
So while the drugs were having their initial flattening effect, I looked at more blogs and at alt.polyamory, and answered an email message from Carbonel about a stray cat she'd rescued, and took a message from Eric's current employer, and contemplated my nightgown. It's an ancient cotton sleeveless affair from Target. Possibly it was intended as a housedress, because it has pockets, one reason I adore it. It's white with a pattern of pink and blue hydrangeas. I bought it before I first went to Arizona to meet Raphael in person. I bought two nightgowns at Target before I first went to visit David in Minneapolis, too. Those were orange and turquoise, respectively, with the same weird pattern of toucans and palm branches. David never did like them. I didn't know his tastes in such things when I got them. Perhaps I even didn't want them to be to his taste. When one is not sure of the status of the relationship and casual nudity is not the norm in one's country, one makes these odd choices. I would not exactly have this problem nowadays. I might have specific acknowledgement that there's a question about whether the relationship is going to get sexual or not, but I wouldn't be in such a pristine state of suspension of possibilities. It's nice to know that one's ability to communicate has improved over the years. And let me just add: being raised a girl in the nineteen-fifties and sixties? No thank you. Don't try it. Profoundly sucky in the bad sense.
With the present nightgown I was triumphantly wearing pink ballet-like foam bedroom slippers. I don't normally wear pink. I got those, in despair, to wear when I performed Elise and Juan's wedding ceremony. Elise had not theretofore worn pink either, but had found herself fancying it, and I could not find any other pink shoes that I would be willing to have in the house afterwards. Elise herself wore white bedroom slippers generously embroidered with little pearl-like stuff, so we figured I could wear bedroom slippers too. Jon Singer's sweetie of blessed memory had pink Chinese cloth slippers for her wedding-guest apparel on that occasion, but I hadn't been able to find any locally. She offered to switch with me, but we didn't wear the same size.
Eventually I got so hot and sticky that I turned on the fan of the air conditioner. Ari had pancaked himself in the south window with the breeze, so I didn't really want to turn on the air conditioner itself, as that would mean chasing him out and shutting the window. Besides, it's been such a lovely perfect cool summer that I am cranky about needing to use the air conditioner. Being hot and sticky, I changed the litter box in the library and then took a shower. Dr. Bronner's tea tree oil soap, mmm. There is something weird about the water pressure. The shower curtains are starting to grow red stuff. Raphael just cleaned the sink, but it looks gross again. No cats visited me in the course of the shower, which is a bit odd.
Minou, as it turned out, was occupying my bed -- I had turned on the air conditioner in my bedroom so I wouldn't be sticky when I got dressed. Ari was still in the window. Jordan had gone back to Raphael's room, and Beryl, after trying to chase Ari out of my window and failing, had gone to sleep in an armchair in the cat-sitting room.
Phone calls after the shower included one from HCMC, which wanted its money after my last checkup, and another from Eric, who is progressing well in moving plans and also in reading Fire From Heaven. I am so happy that he is taking to Mary Renault instantly. It was very good to get his call so soon after the unpleasant one.
Pamela
So while the drugs were having their initial flattening effect, I looked at more blogs and at alt.polyamory, and answered an email message from Carbonel about a stray cat she'd rescued, and took a message from Eric's current employer, and contemplated my nightgown. It's an ancient cotton sleeveless affair from Target. Possibly it was intended as a housedress, because it has pockets, one reason I adore it. It's white with a pattern of pink and blue hydrangeas. I bought it before I first went to Arizona to meet Raphael in person. I bought two nightgowns at Target before I first went to visit David in Minneapolis, too. Those were orange and turquoise, respectively, with the same weird pattern of toucans and palm branches. David never did like them. I didn't know his tastes in such things when I got them. Perhaps I even didn't want them to be to his taste. When one is not sure of the status of the relationship and casual nudity is not the norm in one's country, one makes these odd choices. I would not exactly have this problem nowadays. I might have specific acknowledgement that there's a question about whether the relationship is going to get sexual or not, but I wouldn't be in such a pristine state of suspension of possibilities. It's nice to know that one's ability to communicate has improved over the years. And let me just add: being raised a girl in the nineteen-fifties and sixties? No thank you. Don't try it. Profoundly sucky in the bad sense.
With the present nightgown I was triumphantly wearing pink ballet-like foam bedroom slippers. I don't normally wear pink. I got those, in despair, to wear when I performed Elise and Juan's wedding ceremony. Elise had not theretofore worn pink either, but had found herself fancying it, and I could not find any other pink shoes that I would be willing to have in the house afterwards. Elise herself wore white bedroom slippers generously embroidered with little pearl-like stuff, so we figured I could wear bedroom slippers too. Jon Singer's sweetie of blessed memory had pink Chinese cloth slippers for her wedding-guest apparel on that occasion, but I hadn't been able to find any locally. She offered to switch with me, but we didn't wear the same size.
Eventually I got so hot and sticky that I turned on the fan of the air conditioner. Ari had pancaked himself in the south window with the breeze, so I didn't really want to turn on the air conditioner itself, as that would mean chasing him out and shutting the window. Besides, it's been such a lovely perfect cool summer that I am cranky about needing to use the air conditioner. Being hot and sticky, I changed the litter box in the library and then took a shower. Dr. Bronner's tea tree oil soap, mmm. There is something weird about the water pressure. The shower curtains are starting to grow red stuff. Raphael just cleaned the sink, but it looks gross again. No cats visited me in the course of the shower, which is a bit odd.
Minou, as it turned out, was occupying my bed -- I had turned on the air conditioner in my bedroom so I wouldn't be sticky when I got dressed. Ari was still in the window. Jordan had gone back to Raphael's room, and Beryl, after trying to chase Ari out of my window and failing, had gone to sleep in an armchair in the cat-sitting room.
Phone calls after the shower included one from HCMC, which wanted its money after my last checkup, and another from Eric, who is progressing well in moving plans and also in reading Fire From Heaven. I am so happy that he is taking to Mary Renault instantly. It was very good to get his call so soon after the unpleasant one.
Pamela
