2001-10-27 - 11:14 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "Come Together", Aerosmith cover version.

Boy, I am in a fabulous mood. Earlier I was leaping around and jumping up and down and yelling "Yay!" For real.

The reason why is 'cause I have NO OBLIGATIONS LEFT this weekend. Chores are done, the work I had to make up is done, the house is presentable in the event of drop-ins, the bills are paid, paychecks are deposited, my entire herb garden crop (it's supposed to freeze tonight) is washed and put in the freezer, recyclables are dropped off. Goddamn! I did it all on Friday night and Saturday morning/early afternoon and since then it's been playtime.

First we went to Old Town for tea at the Tea Cosy. We got there near closing time. I had a pot of darjeeling and two scones with double devon cream. Mmmm mmmm, yippee. I've mentioned before how ridiculously happy I get over tea and scones.

Poindexter looked damn good -- he tousled his hair and wore a shirt I particularly like with his new leather jacket -- but he was a pest the entire time. He gets into that kind of mood sometimes. He was tapping the table leg with his foot, and kept saying, "You better hurry up and finish that or they're going to kick you out." He was just awful. If he wasn't so spectacularly good-looking and such a great chef I'd have killed him by now.

We were gossiping about a couple over by the window. The girl was quite pretty, with a very natural look -- long wavy hair, no makeup. The guy, though ... he, uh, well, he looked slightly deranged or eccentric and he had thin wispy hair that covered his ears, and it was messed up in an unflattering way. We discovered later that it was because he'd been wearing a bike helmet, but the bad 70s haircut didn't help him any. So we were both wondering what the girl saw in the guy, but from the way she was looking at him it looked like she was gonna jump his bones when they got home. Seriously.

While driving through Old Town, I was looking at the wonderful old houses and coveting them. I said to Poindexter, "Y'know, the only reason I want to be really rich is so I can have a cool old Victorian house in the city. Other than that, I can't think of anything I'd change much." Poindexter said, "Heck, I would! I would have bunches of motorcycles, one for every possible purpose I could think of!"

Well, then we got to the mall, and we went to Nordstrom's, and looked at the shoes, and I said, "Um, if I were rich I would buy lots and lots of shoes. And clothes." I can't bring myself to be whimsical about shoes. If I'm gonna pay $70 for a pair of nifty shoes, I'd damn well better be able to wear them with most of my clothes. The idea of a pair of shoes I can only wear with one outfit makes me ... sort of anxious. My miserly side gets anxious.

Later on I was looking at the expensive clothes and shoes and makeup and stuff and I said to Poindexter, "Boy, I can't believe there are so many people who have enough money to go buy all this expensive stuff."

He looked at me and said, "Evelynne, you do have enough money. You just don't prioritize this stuff the way other people do."

I was struck dumb for a minute. I'm such a dork sometimes. I said, "You're right! Oh my gosh! I plunked down $1600 for a dirt bike without even thinking about it, and I could have spent that money on clothes and shoes instead!"

Hm. I don't see my priorities changing anytime soon, although I might loosen up some. Somehow buying clothes seems so frivolous. I have plenty of clothes for multiple occasions, and to buy more just because I like clothes seems frivolous. But it's stupid, 'cause I don't know what's more frivolous than a dirt bike, although I see that as a sort of investment in my relationship as well as a hobby.

Hunh.

I guess my money priorities, after the bare necessities (shelter, nourishment, health insurance) would be:

- Having a house I love in a location I love
- Eating good food
- Plane tickets to visit family

Ugh, I'd have to weight them. Those first three are pretty heavily weighted.

- Books
- Movies
- Clothes
- My Volkswagen
- Girly shit (hair, makeup)
- Flowers and herbs

Kevin blogged an article today about a spike in syphilis cases. Kevin quoted one line in particular: "The 93 men reported having 1,225 sexual partners and could identify only 8 percent...."

Well. At first I thought this was an astronomical number of partners, but it averages out to only 13 per person. That's not particularly surprising if it's a lifetime number, I suppose. Just if it was "in the last week" or something. Most people I've asked (me being nosy me and hanging with generally conservative folks) seem to have a handful, around five or so.

The thing that bugs me is that they can only remember 8%. That's beyond my comprehension. I can remember the names of every guy I ever kissed beyond a peck (and, unfortunately, there were only four -- I really should have taken more chances in that department) plus a few guys I pecked, and most of the dozens I've merely crushed on from afar. The idea of having sex with someone and being unable to remember their name later is incontheivable!

Hm ... I remember the face but not the name of one guy I pecked. Two reasons: I wasn't attracted to him, and pecking is not a big deal to me since my whole family (Irish/Italian Catholics) pecks on the lips all the time. Hm ... maybe that means for some people, sex is on the same level as pecking is for me. Is that possible? Or are people in denial about the emotional havoc that sex can wreak?

So I guess it just goes to show what a girl I am. Plus I couldn't possibly have sex with just anybody for the sake of having sex. I have to be wildly attracted -- I couldn't just kiss somebody I'm only mildly attracted to; it would be kinda icky -- and have a certain level of trust before I can even think about kissing them. I understand intellectually that men separate sex and love, but I am 100% stereotypical girl in that I can't. Sometimes I've wished that I could be more relaxed about sex -- in many ways it seems like sex is such a natural thing that you ought to be able to share easily with a friend you're attracted to -- but when it comes down to the wire sex is a Huge Deal for me.

In my dreams, though ... :) I kissed a LJer (or rather, he kissed me) in one of my dreams the other night. Woo!

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