dangerous mood

I have a lot of performance anxiety lately. I can tell it’s worse than usual because I’m even avoiding memes that ask me to be a tiny bit creative.

But life_of_a_fool tagged me for the six word memoir, and I figured, what the hell. My career isn’t riding on this, right? (Unlike some other things I could be–and am not–writing.)

So here it is:


1. Write your own six word memoir

2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like

3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere (link to the original post seems to be gone)

4 Tag five more blogs with links

5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

And here’s my six-word-memoir:

Can I keep this buzz around? 


(Yes, the line is  a song lyric, and yes, it’s also the tagline of my blog. But there’s a reason for that. It works for me on a lot of levels. And the photo there, of course, is me and the boys in the Bumper Pool Basement. God damn. I miss those boys, and that basement, so much it’s a little painful. Sigh.)

Anyway. Okay. I’m supposed to tag people. I think most people have done this now….I’ll tag (with no pressure) CRSE, skycatCanada, Weezy, and Kermit.


The saga continues….

Last night was kind of a bust in the Bad Idea department…

Although I did kind of freak out at one point when he said (to me), “You’re a Bad Influence. I’m going to call you B.I.” (And I was all, OMG!!!! HE READ MY BLOG!!! But I’m positive he has no idea what a “blog” is, unless it’s some odd species of local flora, so no worries, I think…just odd coincidence.)

But I might get another chance later tonight…

In the meantime, GB and I have been up since 6am packing, mailing boxes, donating things to the local thrift store, and generally being about-to-move maniacs. Good times.

I am sleepy. Very, very sleepy. And freaking exhausted. But apparently there will be a few beers at Jason’s tonight and…well, as GB reminded me last night, “If you’re going to make another move on Bad Idea, you need to be a lot more obvious about it.” So let’s see how that goes, shall we?

Oy. Let’s see if I can stay awake long enough to try.

So, you know how I was all like, okay, the deed is done with Bad Idea, resolution blah blah blah, and I don’t have to do that again?

Well, I might have spoken just a bit too soon.

I hadn’t talked to Bad Idea since he left my house on Friday morning, and I had every reason to believe that he was just being…weird.

Last night, though, Jason, IB/DM, and Bad Idea came over for a few drinks–a pre-going-away party, to prepare us for today’s actual going-away-party. It was fun–drinking, listening to music, one everyone-drop-your-pants-and-do-a-shot moment (yeah, it’s nice to have GB back).

Then we decided to go out for a beer, and headed down the street a few blocks. The minute we got outside, Bad Idea dropped back with me–we ended up a couple blocks behind IB/DM, GB, and Jason. As soon as they (well, Jason, since GB and IB/DM already know all about the other night) were out of earshot, Bad Idea said, Damn, I keep thinking about the other night and I’d like to do that again…how about tomorrow sometime?

Well, blogfriends, what with the impending move and all, I think we can all assume that’s an offer I won’t be able to refuse.

So if we duck out of the party for a few minutes this afternoon? Uh, don’t look for us, okay?

***Bonus tragi-comic sentence of the evening: “Why does this have to happen right when you’re moving?”***

Guess what I did?

Told Bad Idea I wasn’t going to fuck him.

Guess what I woke up to at 8am?

3 untouched Jack & Cokes (why did I pour three drinks for the two of us?)

2 condom wrappers on the floor

2 HUGE painful bruise-y spots on my back (what the fuck happened to me? Did I fall down the basement stairs again? Thank gods there’s no actual basement here…)

1 Bad Idea standing confusedly in the middle of the living room mumbling, “I think I need to go home…”


We probably should have stuck with the heavy petting.

Live and learn. Regrets, I have none. Though I *am* going back to sleep.

(…is weaving a course of grace and havoc…)*

I just got back from lunch with Bad Idea–his treat, this time. I took the houseplants to him and he bought me pho. Pretty good deal.

We talked a little about the poly stuff–specifically, about how GB and I do it: how we’re honest, and try to be empathetic, and how we’ve been doing this for 11 years now (all things Bad Idea knows, but he was happy to be reminded). And we talked a little about our dinner the other night, and agreed that it was awesome all around.

By the end of lunch he said, “You’ve convinced me that I won’t go to hell or be a horrible person if we have sex. I’m sold. And we don’t have to tell Jason (who would be totally judgmental about it and keeps telling Bad Idea not to sleep with me). But really, the only people who HAVE to know are you, me, and GB. Right? Hmm. Okay. I’m convinced.”

Great, I said. What are you doing after work tonight?

And he said, “I’m convinced, and I know it would be great, and I want to. But I’m not giving it the thumbs up yet.”

Um. What? The? Fuck?

Strangest. Boy. Ever.

So I said, You know, I’m only here for another week, so really, we only have a few more days. And Bad Idea said–

–wait, are you ready? Because this is freaking hilarious:–

“Well, I don’t want it to feel rushed.”

–Got that laughter under control yet?–

I’ve lived here for 5 years.

I’ve been putting moves on Bad Idea for at least 4 of those years.

We’ve been doing the drunk kissing/fooling around, on and off, for the past 3 years.

We made out for nearly THREE FREAKING HOURS the other night.

But, no, I’d hate for him to feel rushed.

*Big points and my undying affection for my (maybe two?) blogfriends who can identify this lyric…

Friends….my laptop is almost dead. I’m going out in a minute to see if I can get a new hard drive to resurrect it…but it doesn’t look good. I’m writing this on GB’s old iMac, and because of cord issues I have to lie on the floor as I try to type this, and it’s awkward. So–here’s the abbreviated update. Details will very likely follow, because I am ALL about kissing and telling.

  • oysters I ate: 5!
  • oysters Bad Idea ate: 7
  • oysters I enjoyed: every damn one of them
  • bowls of clam chowder shared: 1
  • lobsters slain and consumed: 2
  • bites of lobster fed to me by Bad Idea: 3
  • beers consumed with dinner: 9?
  • minutes into dinner when Bad Idea started planning for later kissing: 30
  • sidewalk benches where public making-out occurred: 1
  • time spent on first sidewalk bench: ~1 hour
  • passers-by who suggested that we might want to “get a room”: 4
  • number of erotic suggestions whispered into my ear: 12-ish
  • random other dark sidewalk locations where public groping occurred: 2
  • time spent in post-dinner makeout: 2 hours?
  • number of times I was informed that the fact of my marriage would preclude “actual” fucking: 4
  • bizarre (or completely normal, I guess) moral codes Bad Idea maintains, and with which I must disagree: 1
  • Fun had, regardless, on a scale of 1 – 10: I’m going to go with 11.

The Bad Idea Seduction Dinner(tm) is tomorrow.

Bad Idea is ridiculously excited about it. He called me yesterday to confirm that we’re on for Saturday (immediately after which, of course, I called IB/DM and yelled “OMG I think it’s a real date!”). We had a few drinks last night (well, I had a lot, he had a few when he got off work) and he talked about it for hours–telling me where we’re going to go, what we’ll eat, and planning out the evening overall (including the early, sober point at which we’ll drop off the car so we can drink more). I tried to get him to hang out after the bar closed, and he gently but firmly suggested I take a cab home, but that “We are going to have SO much fun on Saturday.”

Hee! Bad Idea might be more excited for the Seduction Dinner(tm) than I am!

I wish I could liveblog it. I *think* I can photo-live-blog it from my phone, though the pictures will be grainy and dark….yeah, I’ll see what I can do.*

Any last-minute suggestions, blogfriends? (Remembering, of course, that the “point” of this dinner–aside from the Seduction, of course–is that I have no seafood experience; I am about to move away from an area known for seafood; Bad Idea wants to help me get a tiny bit of seafood experience before I go; and we’re ALL about the aphrodisiac foods.) Here’s the advice concerned friends and loved ones have offered me so far:

  • Don’t chew the oysters
  • LOTS of lemon juice/tabasco
  • ask them not to boil the lobster alive (from my sister the veterinarian–considering I’ve been totally or mostly vegetarian for the past 23 years, I completely agree with her on this, but in the interest of getting the Seafood Experience, I’m going to pray to the lobster gods for forgiveness for this one lobster I’m viciously killing)
  • sneak off to the bathroom for update/pep talk phone calls with IB/DM (uh, this one was from IB/DM)
  • don’t forget to take the plants we’re giving Bad Idea to his house when I pick him up (this one was from GB)

Anything else I need to know/remember/do?

Expect heavy blogging to follow, one way or another.

*ETA: Er, I meant the dinner. Liveblogging the dinner. I’m assuming the rest will not be live-bloggable…hey, this is a family-friendly blog! Or, you know, maybe it’s not. Time will tell.

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