Saturday, March 3, 2012

Hi sweetheart, oh darling, I imagine that your champagne cork popped which accounts for the 18 hits in one second a little while ago, oh my love, I wish. I'm up here, aerie aglow in the last rays of light - the sun came out in the afternoon, melting away a lot of the snow. I spent the afternoon - oh let's see, I drove to the little town library and bought last month's Harper's for ten cents, fished out another two nickels for an outstanding fine on my account, and picked up a book I had waiting for me on reserve, the selection for U.S. Senator K.G.'s Book Club -- which I on some exhausted level respect & wish them well with, but I am so not "involved" these days in any way, can hardly get through a scholarly volume on E.D. and her beloved maid, let alone a volume by Kristof on empowering women through work. Oh, I'm just getting more exhausted thinking about it. Sorry -- I used to have all that kind of energy in me -- in spades, and spades -- and it's all gone. Now I think about other matters entirely.

Oh so what else... practiced a few hymns at the church today, in preparation for tomorrow. Piece of cake, these ones are quite simple.

I tried not to think of T.S. Eliot & toilets.

I dreamt about C.B. last night.
He comes to me while I am lying down, waking up, in a darkened bedchamber. He kisses me, and I say that my breath is bad, from a night’s sleep, but he doesn’t seem to care. We make out, his body is beautiful, lithe, and strong, and he is covered with coarse dark hair, all over, it’s very animal, arousing. We make out, but at some point he seems to lose interest, and we stop. I wonder if my technique was too tame.

He administers an essay exam, in a lecture hall. I’m there with my booklet. I’ve aced his exams before. But this one – I’m going to fail. He’s given the names of four (or so) cultural names, on which we’re supposed to opine. Buddy Holly is, one; possibly Pina Bausch is another, or perhaps it’s Jacob’s Pillow Dance. I’ve heard of some of these names, but don’t know enough about them to write anything remotely intelligible. And some of the names I haven’t even heard of. I mention this to the professor, C.B., who’s a little disapproving of me, because I’ve come down from my desk to try to get the names I’ve missed. And I tell him that I’m going to flunk this exam. He shrugs, and says that there’ll be another exam, another chance, at New Year’s. I figure – I might as well write any nonsense at all, whatsoever, just make it up outright, since I don’t know anything about these figures – so just make it complete unabashed nonsense already – maybe he’ll appreciate that kind of desperate creative effort.

and what else, compulsively, or reflexively trolled local C.L. ads, even though I'm not really looking, not at the moment. I became intrigued with one, a guy who keeps posting & posting - compulsively himself - he's stuck (as he says) in a very longlived marriage (married, with children, 36 years -- at age 56), and he indulges, in truly very explicit fantasies. Which weren't so explicit yesterday evening, when I playfully sent him a note (not formally responding to his ad, just a quick aside), and his ads today, have only become more explicit and desperate. I feel bad for him. So in the spirit of the season, I've indulged in a bit of entirely voluntary, unsolicited pro bono work. I had wondered what I had given up for Lent -- and it might be, a bit belatedly -- the Big O's.

Sweetheart, darling, sleep tight you -- I'm around, always cuddling with you...

Message from Belle to "Needsome", this afternoon
... boy you're posting a lot of ads these days... !

I'm not the one for you, I know I'm not, but I keep thinking about your ads & your situation. I feel bad for you (please don't take that wrong). You're entitled to your fantasies, and to tell you the truth they get my mind going a little bit. But believe me I'm not the one for you -- I'm not a James Bond-type vixen...

Anyway, I was just wondering if your ads are working for you. Because, speaking as a woman, they just raise so many questions, and maybe they don't appeal to women so much (except for of a certain 'working' class -- and that's not who you want).

I'm just wondering about the 'romance' part. That's what most women I think, would like. I personally, might indulge such play-fantasies..... once I really knew the man, and there was a relationship of trust, and fun, and play --- but that would have to develop.

I guess I'm the type of woman who would like a glass of wine & share an elegant small meal with -- and talk a bit, and see if there's an attraction, and see where it goes.

Also - on the practical side - since you're so explicit about your fantasies, and say that you're available in a 50-mile radius. If you're not going to get a 'pro' -- with all the right outfits & toys & accessories -- well, I just wonder how many women around here not already deeply involved in that line, possess such props.

Also -- 50 miles each way -- doesn't that mean that you'd expect the woman to "host"? But you don't say that in your ads. But I'm thinking that you're not going to be springing for hotel bills all the time, not with a family to support....

Anyway, just random thoughts. I sense your desperation, and I hope someone just right for you responds.

I myself (probably against my better judgment) might not mind having a glass of wine with you, break bread sometime, except that I'm sorta/kinda feeling my way with another guy at the moment, a promising CL lead (we had a nice first date, and he's asked me if I'd like to get together again). And the last thing I am is promiscuous in any way (completely, and I mean completely faithful in my 25-year marriage --- only starting to 'break out' now -- but I don't plan on 'playing the field.')

Anyway, wishing you well -- and I guess -- well, just think about what women want, & need to know, as you're drafting your ads.

All the best, Belle

P.S. I'd "I.M." you, but I'm a luddite on such fine points of yahoo, let alone owning a whip, corset, or strap-on.

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