The Call of the Wild

This is a guy in the German parade on my street two weekends ago. I have no idea what he was supposed to be.
I don't know who all reads this, so if you're under 18 (mentally or chronologically) you might not want to read any further. Wait like four days and maybe I'll have posted something more annoyingly mundane, as is usual.

Right now I am sitting on my couch ignoring my bored dog and counting time. My dog somehow found (this is gross, I warned you!!!) a used condom behind? attached to? under? my bed when I was moving stuff around, and I was thinking about the ridiculous length of time that thing has probably been there, and how the newest it could possibly be is like nine months old. (And yes, I do clean once in a while.) And that realization bummed me out.

Then I started counting the time it's been between now and my last meeting with MBC (Mr. Booty Call) and how many days until gets back into town (four). And that's interesting. Because I don't really like MBC. I don't miss him, per se, but I do want to be sure I clear the calendar for one evening next week. (Is that bad?) Honestly, I don't even know if I think MBC is cute. But, um - he gets the job done.

The guy was with this group in the parade. Again, I have no idea what they were trying to be. German fighters in the Revolutionary War? Oh, and in general, the parade was GREAT!

So here's the thing: I got into this arrangement with MBC for two reasons: 1) all the working out from the triathlon or maybe the summer heat or maybe the time since my last regular partner made me incredibly horny - and yet with training and the job from hell I didn't have time to cultivate anything real, and 2) though I am in truth looking for something real and long-term and romantic, my damn libido has, in the recent past (ahem, WX) allowed me to make intellectually and emotionally irrational and idiotic choices with regard to companions, and I thought that taking the damn libido out of the picture would stem that tide and allow me to more freely look for a better match, an actual friend first, a social/psychological/intellectual equal, who shows good judgment and, of course, excellent regard for me - without sleeping with him.

Good theory, right?

Well, the MBC situation has had its good points. I mean, a) it's fun. b) we've only met a handful of times, so it's still exciting, and never in my home, which is sorta of mysterious and discreet, like a little vacation (thus you can understand the extra shock when Lois brought me her lovely treasure this evening - it's definitely an oldie), and c) he lives closeby, and d) he is a good kisser (and is into that even without the romance that kissing usually connotes).


From Labor Day in Illinois near the Iowa town where my parents live, along the Mississippi River. It's still flooded all throughout that area - totally wiped out all crops and much livestock and so many homes. I wonder what last weekend's rain did? This pic is about five miles from the river, too. Yikes.

The bad thing is: I'm fundamentally lazy. Though he is "up for it" (ha ha) more often than I think I am, and it's still not that often, yet - in all reality - it's just enough to make me, well - give up on anything else. Maybe I haven't given it enough time. And it's true that I haven't been out much since mid-August - to meet anyone else - but really, I don't even look at guys the same way. I just don't care...I have my cake. I might not eat it too, but I do have it. You know?

Tonight just for fun I did my thing of talking to a stranger guy and instead of being challenging it was just - lame. It was easy and I wasn't nervous/excited at all. He told me where he got this thingie on his bike, and he was even cute! - but I just - I dunno. I think this MBC thing is not exactly making me enthusiastic about meeting men. If anything it's taking the edge off - but not necessarily in a good way.

You know?

Thoughts?

P.S. to Von - it's a rehash without the Spaten - forgive me!