Mixed Pre Easter Bag

Well, it's Holy Saturday.

I'm going to call it good news that I have discovered a new sexual hard limit of mine.  No way in hell am I going to remotely participate in activity involving learning more about Victoria's Secret.  It never was my thing in the first place, but now that I have had an encounter with a guy who dug it, I don't want to do it again.  What made this round too strange was he got off on listening to a recording that used phrases like, "you are a filthy faggot, whose only purpose is to have your man pussy penetrated."

In one word, "EEEEEEW!"

It gets worse.  This session was a three way involving someone who I was dating.  This jerk decided, with a little help, to make sure I was drummed out of the picture.  Let's just say, the whole situation got messy and in the end, I was crying, I hit the ceiling of the Grantville Trolley Station (and if you have been in it, you would know that is no mean feat."  And the whole thing really upset me.

Soooo, the time came to make an attempt to cheer myself up.  First round was when I dug up the Hawaiian shirts in my locker that Rick and I purchased to go to a funeral.  This particular one was for a friend of Rick's late mother who knew his family well.  The guest of honor specifically requested that the mourning party wear Hawaiian shirts to the event.  I really enjoyed meeting the family of the guest of honor as well as truly appreciating why we switch place cards at gatherings.  A friend of Rick's mom basically spoke with me and put him on a pedestal for all the things he did for his mom when he visited San Diego.  I relayed that to Rick.

The next day an archaeological dig into my locker revealed shirts Rick bought but never wore. It was also the day of a despedida for a bar, and Rick's grand nephew asked if I could be a gratuitous piece of arm candy and go with him.  I wore one of the shirts, attended the despedida and hand a great time.  I was out until 4 AM.  I also SWEAR the young man is out to fix me up with someone and is evaluating candidates from his date pool.  This means if you see me out on a date in Tijuana with an awfully young man, you know what happened.

As you know, I made a decision last July to split my time and figure out where to go from that point this July.  I have decided to keep splitting my time for another year, and decide what to do  next April.  We shall see how that plays out.

More to come.