Theme: Sex , Color: You Surprised

I think it's possible that I might win the lottery tonight. One, I bought a ticket, which is key (or so I hear). Two, I didn't hit a single red light on the way home from Sarah's house. That's lucky, baby. I'll remember you when I'm rich.

I made a detour on the way home when I spotted a Barnes and Noble. I had not been able to get to a book store since the whole prostitution chat and I decided that a detour was necessary even if it meant messing up my green light luck. (It didn't. I really didn't hit a red light at all. It's a good ten mile stretch, so I think that's freaking amazing. I hate stoplights and will take the most roundabout way to a destination to avoid them.)

After glancing through their meager selection, I settled on It's Not the Stork!: A Book About Girls, Boys, Babies, Bodies, Families, and Friends. I was also looking to pick up Everything You Never Wanted Your Kids to Know about Sex but Were Afraid They'd Ask: The Secrets to Surviving Your Child's Sexual Development from Birth to the Teens, if only because you can tell by the title that it was written by someone like me who doesn't like to waste words, but it was out of stock. Thankfully the closing announcement came on just as I was about to succumb to the fiction section. I have a stack of books to read that seem to multiply while I'm sleeping. There is absolutely no reason for me to purchase any more books.

On an entirely different note (well, not really since we were discussing books about sex), I haven't had sex in nearly two months and I'm still alive to talk about it. (I know! I was surprised as well!) Until this past week, my sudden celibacy/abstinence/lack of opportunities hadn't really bothered me. In fact, it had been rather nice. I found that I was spending more time with friends and that was a good thing. But there's comes a point when your friends just can't fulfill all of your needs, nor do you really want them to.

I'm in a bind, though, because I don't want to jump in the sack with anyone I've been with in the past, nor am I particularly keen on searching for a replacement. I had sort of hoped that a man would just show up on my doorstep one day and be the perfect fit -- readily available, but gives me space, excellent in bed, blind, independent, and understanding that a commitment isn't in our cards. Amazingly, that hasn't happened yet!

I did walk out of my door the other day and lay my eyes upon a quite handsome man. He smiled when he saw me and asked if I was the one giving away the couches -- the water-stained, chocolate-smeared, dirt-smudged couches. I answered affirmatively and smiled back at him. He explained that he'd just moved into the neighborhood less than two blocks away and that he would like to take the couches. (He intended to have them cleaned.) He didn't have a way to get them for a couple of hours and asked if I could hold them for him. My neighbor (from the front house) happened to be outside barbecuing by my front door (because that's so much more logical than doing it IN HIS BACKFUCKINGYARD) and I asked if we could store the couches in his garage since mine is stuffed to the gills with who knows what. He agreed that would be okay and he and his friend proceeded to watch me and the cute man move the couches. As we're moving the couches, I'm flirting shamelessly with him. We exchange names and say that we'll presumably see each other later when he retrieves the couches (since my neighbor obviously wouldn't be helping him move them).

After he drove off, I got into the car to run to the store (which was why I came outside in the first place). I glanced up at myself in the rearview mirror and did a double-take at the image before me. My right eye and its surrounding area was smeared with mascara. I looked utterly ridiculous. He obviously was smiling at me in an 'Awww. She must be special' kind of way rather than in an 'I find you attractive as well' kind of way. I'd just woken up from a nap when I made my way out the door that fine afternoon, but apparently didn't find my way past a mirror before setting forth into the world.

Something tells me that my newest neighbor isn't going to be the guy that just shows up on my doorstep to fulfill my fantasies.

Thank goodness for batteries.