Please bookmark the correct page at http://suzannadanna.net/ Princess of Irony

Balllllllllllllllllll One!

Issue Date: Thursday, Mar. 13, 2003

I am such a fitness freak (I thought I asked you not to laugh at the afflicted).

My sister and her husband and a few of their friends asked Mister and I if we would like to join them for the Dash Down Greenville. It is a run to benefit the Texas Neurofibromatosis Foundation this Saturday afternoon. I have no idea what that particular disease is, but if they are having a fund raiser for it that is in junction with a parade for St. Patrick’s Day and a lot of beer. Then, heck… I’m all for it!

Yeah, yeah… I know… I’m going to hell.

I had a very strange moment of lucidity last night. Everything seemed so perfectly clear. (And now I am going to join the Association for the Redundantly Redundant Association. Sheesh.) I was getting ready to clean my bathroom and hang up some clothes and to get myself psyched up I said, (yes, out loud and with a fair about of conviction I might add) “Go Forth and Toaster!”

Go forth and toaster?

I guess it’s sort of like “Go forth and prosper” without all the pressure.

So. It is official. I am a complete loser when it comes to hanging up my clothes. I have no problems with laundry. Heck, I sometimes even enjoy doing laundry, but if the clothes are not spewed forth from the dryer on hangers already, then it is a complete loss.

I can fold, I can iron (poorly I might add), but hanging up those suckers is a serious point of contention for me.

I bet most of the people on this diary thingy are getting snotty and pe-sha’-ing my little worries. I am healthy, I am fairly stable, I am happy, I have no drug addictions, and my life is not being torn apart at the seams by aliens, my parents or a boyfriend whom I blame for my short-comings. I am employed, I have never filed for bankruptcy, I have a fully functional and happy family, and I was never beaten up by midgets with a grudge as a child (or as an adult for that matter). My boyfriend is as happy and stable as I am, and everyone gets along famously at family get togethers. Nope, no drunken brawls or someone screaming, “Quick! Get Billy Leroy away from Papa’s guns!”

I have a problem with hanging up clothes. That’s about it.

Oooh… here’s something juicy.

I have a client (customer, vendor… whatever) who comes into town from New York fairly regularly. Last March when he was in town he asked me to join him for dinner. No harm, no fowl (ha!), so I agreed. I picked him up in Fort Worth and we went to Joe T. Garcia’s (yum!).

We were having a normal meal, he told me about his business, his family, his children and when things were just to the point of me finally relaxing about eating dinner with a strange man he asks me if he can tell me about his personal life. I (like a complete maroon) said, "Sure." He lapses into a whole sordid story about how he and his wife “play”. Apparently they are into a scene with a fair amount of BDsM. For those vanilla readers out there (like me) that stands for Bondage, Dominance, submission and Masochism, or something like that.

While I sat there with my mouth open drawing flies and all in all being very charming and ladylike, he told me that he had on, at that very moment, a ball spreader. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is important information to have. I am not knocking his choices or his openness. I am, however, wondering why he decided I was trustworthy enough for this information. And more to the point, why did he find it necessary to tell me?

I am certain that I did not put any “Hey big boy, tell me about your ball spreader” vibes out there. I told him that I am not into that sort of thing and asked him why he decided to tell me. His answer was that,"You seem like an open minded sort of woman, and I wanted to be honest with you.” Ok, that is all good. I was shocked, a bit taken aback, but no harm was done. He apologized for surprising me and I took him back to his hotel.

I was driving back to Dallas and my cell phone rings. IT WAS HIS WIFE PEOPLE! He gave her my cell phone. Odd. She wanted to thank me for going out to dinner with her husband and tell me that if I ever wanted to, that it would be ok to share him. I almost wrecked. I said, “Um… Thank you for that offer, but I will not now, nor ever be in need of his services, and I really don’t know what to tell you. I just missed my exit and I am about to wreck, thankyouforcallingbyebyenow.” *click*

In all honesty, I have no problems with alternative lifestyles and off the beaten path sexual stuff. If it is someone else, have at it ya’ll. More freaky power to you and your bad self! But as for me, I am all for single partner, opposite sex, “get that clothes pin away from me”, type of intimacy.

The reason I bring this up is because the same vendor dude called me this afternoon. Said that he was in town and asked if I wanted to have dinner. I politely declined. He told me that we could just do dinner and that I could bring my vanilla boyfriend with me. How sweet. I reminded him that I am “vanilla”, told him to have a nice stay in Dallas, but before I could hang up he apologized for mentioning it.

Let’s look at the facts:

I told him that I am not into that. I told him that I’m not even slightly interested. Isn’t that enough of a deterrent?

Is it the shock value that these people get off on?

Oh well. Go forth and TOASTER!

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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