The Proverbial Cow/Milk Analogy

Yeah, well.

First of all, a personal thank-you to all of the total strangers who came from all over the world to look at a really terrible photo of me in my underwear! Too funny. I mean,  I’m used to a certain number of people checking out my blog each day, and I know they come from specific countries. But put up a blurry photo of me in black stockings and write a simple paragraph about a pair of 41-year-old fetish shoes and people flock from all over the world. Just too funny.

So, anyway. No, J. (aka MG #2) was not at all satisfied with that photo and I knew he wouldn’t be. “I can’t see your legs. Take that robe off and send me another one!” No. It’s a really, really pretty robe. And actually it gets prettier, if not even more see-through-ier, the higher up it goes.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen my legs a bazillion times, but still. I refuse to send photos that satisfy! You know, why buy the cow if you’re getting the milk for free…( Isn’t that a truly lovely analogy about female sexuality?) (And what is this idea about getting purchased somehow? Buying a cow = getting married. And buying a cow = giving up your pussy. Yes, by golly, it is really fun being a girl…)

I can’t tarry here today because in about an hour, I have a phone conference with Peitor Angell to get some work done on the Helen LaFrance stage adaptation. He is at the Toronto Film Festival right now so he is actually in my time zone! And I have to catch him early, before he goes off to see a zillion films with his husband who is a Canadian movie producer.

However, I have to say, “focusing” is becoming a  real issue for me. Too many writing projects going full-steam ahead and I have to keep switching mental gears because each project is so different. Keep working, keep not sleeping, keep eating very, very strangely because I don’t take time to actually cook anything. I’m actually making myself sick again, but I don’t give a fuck, frankly.  If the words are coming out of me, the words are coming out of me. I’ve gotta catch them or they’ll be gone forever.

And then every few days, a phone call with J. and that always makes  me happy, too.  It’s funny, you know, we used to argue a lot. But I’m realizing that being on a phone with someone (and I refuse to do facetime with him, either, so it’s just a regular phone call), weeds out a whole lot of other stimuli. You’re just getting the voice and vocal inflections and that’s it. It’s so different from talking to someone in person, being with that person, and being bombarded with other stimuli that create expectations. And so now, as we talk, it’s just the intimacy of our voices talking, and  I notice all the old trigger points in our conversations that used to make me start an argument with him, but now I can just let it go. Just let it go, Marilyn; he’s just wanting to tell you something. All of reality does not hinge on what he’s thinking about.

I really just used to be so argumentative.  Mostly because, you know, he is on this whole other planet and I guess, back then, I would have preferred he be on my planet, instead.  And he would pretty much let me be argumentative and just let it roll off his back.  He was heavily involved in mob stuff back then, 24/7, and so my little angriness was sort of “pesky  gnat-like” in the scheme of things. He was also going through a divorce back then and his estranged wife was making him nuts, so , in comparison with her and the mob, my nonsense could roll off his back. It took a lot for him to get really angry with me.  But when he would, wow. Jeepers McCreepers. His vocabulary became quite visual.  He was never violent with me, ever. But, boy, did he say stuff to me that no one else had ever said to me before. And a lot of it seemed to be based on how I really was, so it hurt, as the truth so often does, gentle readers.  And even though he would always eventually apologize — in writing, no less — I don’t really need to go there again.

He’s coming to visit soon, you know. Going to stay for several days, so we’ll see if I can park all my insecurities in some far away parking garage and not let them swoop down into the house while he’s here. I don’t want to argue at all.  I just want to be nice, and see how that works out.

All righty, gang. I gotta scoot! Need some more coffee. Need to switch those mind gears. Thanks for visiting. Have a terrific Tuesday! See ya!

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