Sitting here in the nude, tapping keys, much as my usual, only a hundred miles or more south... there seems to be a sexy theme to my days, these days. I arrived here in mid-afternoon, met with the wife of the couple we're friends with – she, they, are in shock that D and I are on the outs, very upset about it, I can see why, we all lived together in the same building (different apartments) for more than ten years. We were all fixtures. But things change, not all marriages last. Across the street, the beautiful brownstone building, occupied for many years by a couple and their children, whom I had fantasized about -- they seemed like the absolute dream couple, both very educated, distinguished, cultured, incredibly prestigiously employed, in their respective professions, in the fine arts. And they are history. The building has been sold, or is perhaps on the market -- at any rate, it's been vacated, the window boxes - always a glorious exuberant joy, filled with blooms, they had a flair for that - empty, barren. Funny thing is, the neighbor in whose apartment I'm staying didn't know the whys and wherefores. I helped her load her car, for her drive upstate -- to my house! And she gestured and said, oh they got divorced and had to move. I said, I know -- that is, I knew about the divorce, because it had been in the press. And I told my friend the reason why - that he had come to terms, in his late middle age, that he was homosexual. And so now that saga, as I observe it very much from the periphery - but talk about a stage-set - is over. That building is empty. And I never knew them at all, never once said hello, across the street, and yet I saw them nearly every day, morning and night, for many years, and observed their young family grow up too. And will never forget, I don't think, the distinctive sound of their front garden gate, signaling one of the family's arrival, or departure.

So after my friend left for the drive upstate, I returned to the apartment and took all of five minutes to unpack my bags -- a few tees and a couple of skirts, toiletries, etc. I left my "toy" at home, figuring I'd take a welcome, delightful stroll up Bergen Street to the Slope to a woman-centered toy shop, that I just love, and has been a real life saver for me. I confidently strode in, an old hand at this now and said, I'd like a 'nubby G' - which is a rather unattractive bright blue silicon toy, suggestive though not anatomically correct -- but with AA's ever re-charged, and with my mind cached with fantasies -- it's very effective. I have a 'fancier' toy, from that shop, that cost four times as much, and it doesn't do the trick - I don't even use it any more. So when the clerk said they were out of stock, and then graciously volunteered to go through the motions to check inventory of the Soho shop, only to learn - which I overheard, and was then personally informed -- that it's been discontinued by the manufacturer -- that was very very bad news to me - it really was! It had never occurred to me that an affordable, effective toy might cease to be manufactured...

And this bit of bad news came on top of other discoveries I'd made, as I'd simply taken a walk, albeit purposefully, around the 'old neighborhood.' Sweet Melissa's is no more? Are you kidding me? It was a very delightful tiny hole-in-the-wall cafe, with the most amazing pastries & cakes, enticing confections, expensively priced. It seemed like such an institution around here - well, I mean, I personally had always found it unaffordable - but if, sometimes on a weekend, we'd spring for a $5 take-out tiny slice of goat-cheese cheesecake - which sounds improbable, but was divine... as were their overpriced, almond-and-apricot "Queen's cakes" that are like the Polish Easter cake, mazurek. So, I note, a little dispiritedly, that this effervescent, extravagant sweets shop has been turned into a test prep tutoring/coaching center, for all those standardized exams...

And now this - my favorite toy - discontinued! Too much change! And not in the 'positive' column, though on other fronts, I don't know, yes, there is change, in the positive column... so I'm okay. And feeling really happy, and hopeful, even as I told my friend (who's at least 10 years older than me) - Yes - I am feeling really happy, and hopeful - I decided that I wish to live, that I wish to be happy.

I ended up buying a different toy, since "nubby" is no longer available, something that takes AA's.. and it seems powerful enough (more! I want more). And another bottle of lube... all insurance policy against lonely times in a beautifully spankin'-clean house upstate. And yes, maybe I'm becoming a bit more openminded about the idea of light spanking. You know - that youporn? I am learning so much! But I won't feel free to download any on our friends' computer, not my own, with "guest user" privileges, upon which - inadvertently on their part - all sorts of "parental blocks" were going up, the instant I tried to check for email messages from you, dear, or cryptic images from you - dearest (will I see you next month? I hope so, but if I don't, my hopes won't feel quite as dashed as they had been at Christmas. Do you know, I hope one day, that we can be in each other's company, and hold hands, and you can tell me everything that's been going on with you...)

I haven't tested out the new toy yet, and am not even in the mood to, but will note -- well, at last Sunday's service, the Rev M lost me just a tiny bit when in her sermon she started to go on about "signs and wonders..." -- rather more literal proofs of the manifestations of Spirit than I'm ordinarily comfortable with... But on my walk back from Park Slope, over the Gowanus Canal (yeah Canal! now Superfund site!, now might sing Walt Whitman), I crossed from this intimately-scaled yet industrial landscape in a matter of a few steps into a leafy brownstone residential shade..... And someone -- a woman I presume, had laid out a handful of books "FREE!" as a couple of post-its announced… among them faded volumes of Wuthering Heights and Lady Chatterley's Lover. There were no more than a dozen paperbacks in all laid out on the stoop, some having to do with new-parenting -- sign-language with your baby -- I don't know - I don't have a baby - I didn't examine those "what to expect" volumes but another one did catch my eye -- and sits right here on this desk now, as I type to you -- You On Top, it's called -- about skills a woman such as myself needs to know... And so that will make for great bedside reading... learning pointers about getting myself back out there – and not just watching videos (which I can't even, from here) -- but encountering him in all his amazing corporeality... me, thrown if not around his shoulders, then around his face, on top -- okay darling, probably that last line - I know it needs editing… I have imaginings and tomorrow's another day -- many kisses