From the dusty archives of our Drafts folder:
This is what happens when the Pollyannas met up on Facebook late one night… The colors let you know which Pollyanna is which. Also, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Not us. Our families, silly.
Anna-Liza: Hey there – are you really on right now? Or is it just a Facebook illusion?
Lyda: Yes, I’m on.
I went and started a cooking project and now I have to stay up ’til I’m done.
How much longer are you going to be up?
Hoping less than half an hour. I have something simmering – have to check it once in a while. Then I can pour it in a jar and let it cool and go to bed.
Not too much longer, then. Hey, I graduated.
I saw! Congratulations!
It’s kind of weird. It felt like this huge thing before it happened, and hardly anyone has even acknowledged it. I thought the people at work would all sign a card or something.
Wow. Nothing? Although it’s not totally surprising, I guess.
Then again, there’s that whole karma around getting validation from outside. Bleh.
People keep asking me “What are you going to do now?” and the truth is I have no idea. I’d like to do something completely different, but I’m not sure what.
I’m hoping that, now that the kids are in school again, life will be less crazy and I can indulge myself with a call to you once in awhile again.
And, in re: “boring job,” you *must* read “Radical Homemakers.”
That would be awesome! I miss our long talks. I saw your note [on Facebook] about “Radical Homemakers.” Sounds interesting.
It’s a quick, but sort of intense, read. I think it will weirdly fit in with your studies.
My son the Sith Master thinks I should be a teacher and teach English so kids will learn to love books and reading and writing, instead of learning to hate it. I don’t know though.
I have to do some posts on the blog…
God, I am not even sure when the last time I posted was. Blogging is another thing I want to get back into.
And I’ve started making these cute little stitch markers that my knitting group is “test driving” for me. If they work well, I’m thinking of selling them on Etsy.
Me too. I need to post about graduating, for one, and check off a big thing off my Bucket list. I did do this.
To jump around a little, one of the big reasons we like living in our own house is that we can garden a lot more extensively. We want to do an “urban homestead” kind of thing with a lot of edible landscaping.
Stitch markers – cool! I haven’t knitted in so long. It’s finally cool today, so I can think about dusting the needles off. I’m thinking I’ll just make a scarf with yarn I have, and then give it away to someone…
Maybe even backyard chickens eventually. A scarf’s a good way to get back into knitting.
“Urban homestead” – I like it. Edible landscaping is a terrific idea.
You know those books about women’s knitting or quilting groups? I swear our knitting group could inspire one of those.
There you go, something else to do in your copious free time. And hey, while we’re at it, we really should write a book together too.
We’re growing pole beans on our front porch railing, and we’ve been getting really tasty green beans.
[about writing the book together] Yep.
Something with lots of sex in it. I’m not having any right now, so at least I can live vicariously by writing about it.
I can’t write well about sex – it always comes out too serious.
Or just stupid.
“Mmmmmmmm .. Mmmm … Mmmmmmm … ” Didn’t we make fun of some book like that way back when?
I know – comes out serious, stupid, or insipid when I write about it. Maybe together we can keep it fun and funny.
“RRRRRRrrrrrrr …. VVVVVVVVVv”
Sorry. Got carried away there.
You are cracking me up! “And she arched her back and screamed like a lioness…”
Do lionesses scream, exactly?
I’ve always wondered…
The scream thing annoys me. How many women actually scream when they orgasm?
Probably not so many.
Well, mountain lions scream, or so they say. I haven’t heard if they scream during sex, though. On the nature shows, the lioness always just looks bored during sex.
Yeah, she does. Lions seem a lot like this one guy I dated…
[On “How many women really scream during sex?”] Good question. Probably less than men pretend they do. But is that because the women are worried about someone hearing, or are they thinking, “I’d scream, but it would be stupid”?
Or it’s just not a natural response.
Moaning, gasping … “Mmmm”ing … seem more real.
OMG, I think we should do a whole chapter of the book comparing old lovers to animals from the nature channel.
Names or aliases? I think names could cause problems…
Yeah, moaning, gasping is more real. I think Playboy started the screaming rumor, and some women just play along. Probably most women don’t even talk except to say “yes yes more more” but really, what else do you need to say?
Definitely aliases. We might want to visit Texas again someday.
[On what else women need to say during sex] “Stop that”
“Get off me”
“I told you not to do that”
Hopefully followed by “do this instead,” or “let me be on top now.”
Yeah, but I wonder if men hear it after “stop that”. It would be a turn-off to hear her say “I hate when you do that”… or maybe not, what the hell do I know?
I think we have a blog post here.
I don’t think I’d say that during the act…
Well, “stop” if something hurt or was really unpleasant.
At least one! Hey, let’s just turn it into a knitting / quilting / urbanhomemaking / sex blog.
Isn’t it that already? Well, maybe the urban home thingy not as much.
I keep having this image of two very proper people explicitly discussing sexual acts over the tea and crumpets. Sounds like a Monty Python skit.
Which is actually not a bad idea… I mean, if you really need to give detailed feedback or suggest something complex, maybe it’s better to discuss away from bed.
The Radical Homemaker thing is about disengaging as much as possible from what the author calls the “extractive economy” and engaging in the creating of a “life-serving economy.” Backing off from consuming…
Yeah, I guess the urban home not so much, especially since I stopped writing about cleaning too.
And yes, discussing away from bed is probably best.
Wait; let’s go back to talking about sex.
Nothing like a serious discussion to kill the mood.
We should just copy and paste this chat to the blog.
True. Et voila!
And when discussing one’s partner’s technique, they might feel safer if they have their clothes on. Of course, the dinner table might not be the place either… not if there are knives on the table. Better to serve pasta…
Yeah, hot soup would be a bad idea….
This one time, the bed collapsed. I thought that was pretty frickin’ hilarious. How can you not laugh when the damn bed collapses? The man in question, however, did not think it was funny. An important clue that this was not the guy for me.
So another chapter in the book = funny, embarrassing, weird moments in sex.
Hey, are you done cooking yet? And by that, I mean on the stove…
How could we not? I remember the bed collapsing story – still can’t believe he didn’t think it was funny. That happened in a production of Fiddler on the Roof I did makeup for – Tevye’s dream sequence. He ran and jumped into the bed, and it collapsed.
Yes, the jars are cooling now.
Oh wow. I bet everyone working the show still tells that story.
Cool. We can work on the post tomorrow. Or I should say “I can work on it tomorrow.” Since I’m not the one with two active kids at home…
Probably. “Tevye” is now a voice actor in CA. Works for Disney, done some good stuff.
And I’m babysitting AND Very Superior Husband is doing a weekend retreat up at the cabin.
I sometimes wonder if I’ll run into one of our theatrical classmates out here but hasn’t happened.
Speaking of sex… you could go jump in bed with your gorgeous husband now. But… don’t jump too hard.
And no I can’t – he’s at the cabin.
You see how I did that with the bed-collapsing reference? I’m so good.
Which is probably why I’m up late cooking.
[finally getting a clue] Oh. Well. He’s at the cabin and you aren’t?
[about the “I’m so good” thing] Yes! You are!
And he’s doing a retreat.
So you are herding the kidlets alone this weekend? Wish we could do it together. Damn I miss living in the same city as you. Stupid pointy mountains!