Follow-up to "Tonight's the night... (Thanks, Rod Stewart!)"
The post I did 10 days ago, upon returning from a complicated month traveling with my significant-other, Joanne, generated some great comments from you sweet friends. I just answered the latest one, and am reflecting on my peculiar (but often NOT unpleasant) lifestyle. Since sex with her is absolutely OUT of the question, I have long got pleasure and sexual release from girls I meet on Tumblr. (Well, here, too, over the years -- truth to tell.)
Anyway, please look up the post and its NINE comments if you somehow remain intrigued with my love life. Remembering the premise: I spent from mid-June until July 13 CELIBATE! It was not easy -- I have a new sense of what Catholic priests go through. (And I have temptations at least as bad as they do...)
Now that we're back home* for the nonce, I can report that things are just as annoying as ever. But I might make you guys happier for my prospects: several on-line relationships seem to have survived the month without communications. (Travel is a disaster for on-line messaging, especially on cruise ships where they charge a fortune for really cruddy wi-fi service.But hotel wi-fi is nearly as bad, even if they don't charge you for it.)
Alas, though, one relationship -- already under freaky pressure BEFORE the trip -- has collapsed. A few of you know about the May fling, with a lawyer who had been injured in a taxi crash overseas JUST as she and I were getting to know each other. (A variant on "meeting cute," as in movies like "Sleepless in Seattle," we were only days into knowing each other, but at that emailing 24/7 stage.) There was a several-hour gap in her emails, and she turned up scribbling from her hospital emergency room. There was a second gap, as she was med-evacuated to the States.
And, friends, you cannot make up that sort of thrilling connection.
And our sexting for a month from then on was incredible.
Anyway, it was fun while it lasted...
____________________________
* In my case, "home" is a complicated term. Joanne hates Florida (she didn't, not at all, back when we bought the beach place in 1999). She still grudgingly consents to come down for a month or two in winter. But she prefers our charming brick colonial up in Arlington, VA, just across the river from DC. And she has a huge social life up here. I'm tolerated for as much time as I spend here: "tolerated" is NOT loved, at least not MUCH.
Anyway, please look up the post and its NINE comments if you somehow remain intrigued with my love life. Remembering the premise: I spent from mid-June until July 13 CELIBATE! It was not easy -- I have a new sense of what Catholic priests go through. (And I have temptations at least as bad as they do...)
Now that we're back home* for the nonce, I can report that things are just as annoying as ever. But I might make you guys happier for my prospects: several on-line relationships seem to have survived the month without communications. (Travel is a disaster for on-line messaging, especially on cruise ships where they charge a fortune for really cruddy wi-fi service.But hotel wi-fi is nearly as bad, even if they don't charge you for it.)
Alas, though, one relationship -- already under freaky pressure BEFORE the trip -- has collapsed. A few of you know about the May fling, with a lawyer who had been injured in a taxi crash overseas JUST as she and I were getting to know each other. (A variant on "meeting cute," as in movies like "Sleepless in Seattle," we were only days into knowing each other, but at that emailing 24/7 stage.) There was a several-hour gap in her emails, and she turned up scribbling from her hospital emergency room. There was a second gap, as she was med-evacuated to the States.
And, friends, you cannot make up that sort of thrilling connection.
And our sexting for a month from then on was incredible.
Anyway, it was fun while it lasted...
____________________________
* In my case, "home" is a complicated term. Joanne hates Florida (she didn't, not at all, back when we bought the beach place in 1999). She still grudgingly consents to come down for a month or two in winter. But she prefers our charming brick colonial up in Arlington, VA, just across the river from DC. And she has a huge social life up here. I'm tolerated for as much time as I spend here: "tolerated" is NOT loved, at least not MUCH.