Well, friends, I just passed the 1,000-mark on my site meter earlier today! I am so thrilled! It's such a lovely milestone! Thanks to everyone for visiting often and pumping up my ego! I feel like I ought to do something special to mark the event, but I can't think of anything. Redesign? I don't have the time. Launch a personal domain? I don't have the energy. I do plan to do both of these things, just as soon as I can, but I just don't feel up to it this week.
I haven't been giving much energy to my blogging lately...first was the deepest dark-before-the-dawn portion of my depression, and I had nothing to say; then I was busy at work, around the same time; and then the last few days, all of my online time has been devoted to enlarging my wardrobe and jewelry collection...in preparation for the upcoming Miss Gay Marin 2002 Pageant, I went about looking for fabulous new things...and just didn't know when to quit.
I have to tell you, darlings, I am just about shopped out! I spent over $250 last week, just at eBay! Mostly jewelry, but also a really sweet beaded evening ensemble. Plus I spent about half that much in other online emporia such as CyberNetPlaza (fabulous evening gowns at amazing prices), Shorline (less fabulous but still lovely dresses), and the Windsor Collection (new costume jewelry, particularly large-size rings)—and then I spent another $250 today, in just three places in Alameda. Okay, so part of today's expenditure was my new car insurance...but I figure that counts as shopping, even if it is required by the State of California, and not nearly as fun as the sage chiffon tea gown, the rhinestone-beaded black silk twin set, the gold and emerald pendant, the gold aurora borealis bracelet, or any of the other goodies I hauled in from Park Street.
Fortunately, the last purchase today was a very large jewelry box. And I do mean large! It's a 'jewelry wardrobe,' really: crafted of carved maple and lined with salmon velvet, two feet tall, a foot wide, with five drawers, swing-out door compartments for necklaces on each side, and a mirrored lift-up lid over the padded ring tray (a little bit like this one). I spent a lovely hour this afternoon moving everything from my large old white leather jewelry box, arranging it all according to color. All of my colored and gold pieces went into this chest; my white/silver rhinestone pieces went into the older white chest, and my pearls all remained in the gold laquer Chinese covered dish (I should remember to take pix of these and post them here...I think my jewelry collection belongs in the cast list as a major player in my life). I sat quite some time just gloating over my hoard, like a troll under a mountain. It was most satisfying.
It was, in fact, better than sex. But then, so many things are better than sex, in my opinion. I've not had very happy experiences with sex, and have in the last six years completely avoided it. Actually, more like ten years. In the last ten years, since I came to live with my grandmother and go back to school, I've had sex with exactly three men. God, that sounds depressing. What's more depressing is that none of these men were really worth the bother. There was one I met the very last time I visited the Steamworks, who I suppose was nice, except all I can remember is that he was blond and a bit older than me. The second was a guy I met at the Town & Country, a dive gay bar in Oakland that thankfully closed down some years ago (not long after I quit drinking, though I doubt the two are related); all I remember about him was that he was chubby and short and balding, had pretty brown eyes, and lived with a humorless lesbian who came home while we were in flagrante delicto on her sofa. The last, six years ago this summer, was a reasonably nice guy, very tall and relatively handsome though quite a bit older than myself, and it was the first time I'd ever had sex sober...unfortunately, his niceness didn't really extend beyond the bedroom, and he wasn't prepared to deal with my lack of experience and aggression in bed. He rather made me feel inadequate. I was inadequate, of course, with my numerous inhibitions and my distaste for prolonged oral—but one never likes to be made to feel so.
Well, anyhow, I figure all the money I save on condoms, blood tests, romantic dinners, bail, hotel rooms, Valtrex, and other boyfriend-related expenses is rather more than the amount I spend on jewelry...so it's more than a fair trade. And no matter what, my jewelry never squeezes the toothpaste in the middle, hogs the covers, or tries to take the remote control from me...it also never argues, it never dislikes my friends, and it never makes me cry. It just makes me look lovely and sparkles so nicely in the light.
I suddenly feel an urge to go back to eBay...and there was this other evening gown place I wanted to investigate...
Oops, no can do! I'm out of money until payday on Thursday! Oh, well. I guess I'll have to resort to porn instead (I already have lots of that).
So until I blog again, thanks for the Millennium!
By the way, kids, have you been reading my novel? Please, do! Now. And tell me what you think. :-) XOXO
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