Pollyanna Gets Freaky with a Woman

Lyda here. Heh, I knew y’all would want to read a post with a title like that! The freaky stuff is coming, I promise…

This has been a weird week or so, with lots of sturm und drang. It looked for a few days like the Resident Sith Master might not be resident anymore, but that catastrophe mistake choice was avoided was changed to staying home with me for a bit longer.

I am really proud of my son. He faced the decision of where to live maturely and head-on. He based his decision on self-knowledge and self-love, not on fear or on what anyone else wanted him to do. Yes, I wanted him to stay, but I understood the reasons he had for moving, and I supported him in his decision either way. I was actually pretty awesome about it, if I do say so myself.

Inside I’m jumping up and down and cheering, of course. Y’all know. Besides, he’s the only one who can keep the Evil Tommy Cat in line.

This is a huge relief to both Anna-Liza and Available and Gorgeous Engineer brother, who were preparing to ship vast quantities of tissues and chocolate to me – and spend hours on the phone with me – if he moved. In fact, they’ve already spent hours on the phone with me over this. Now y’all are glad I don’t have your phone number. Oh yes you are.

In other weird and not-so-weird news:

  • RSM and I saw the new Star Trek movie. Check out Franklin’s very funny post about the appeal of this movie to non-Trekkers. I was going to link to the official site for the movie, but it crashed my computer and I don’t want to crash yours too. I’m all thoughtful like that. Here’s instead – spoiler alert! – is the Wikipedia article about the movie.
  • Shaun of the Dead himself plays Scotty! Simon Pegg is awesome and funny, and I’m in love with him all over again.
  • Work is progressing slowly on the current secret projects. Very slowly. But they are going to be great. I hope.
  • I am now wearing night boots to bed each night, to help heal my sprained foot and the subsequent issues. Imagine sleeping in ski boots. It’s like that.
  • My night boots are not to be confused with these night boots. Sadly.

And in the gettin’ freaky department:

Admit it, y’all have been waiting for this.

I had an inappropriate touching moment with a woman of my acquaintance. My hand slipped just as she turned, so instead of patting her on the shoulder I patted her in the chest area. Yes, I did.

Thankfully, she did not either a) sue me for sexual harassment, or b) propose. She thought it was pretty funny.

It was an ACCIDENT, y’all.

And not a result of reading Lady Chatterley’s Lover.

Or having the longest dry spell of my life.

At all.

No, really!

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