Your Feet

Pablo Neruda

When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.

… I’m not buying it:

Dear Angela:

10am to 6pm tonight. Slept as instructed.

I am disappointed that you think I am cheating. Your esteem is important to me, and it is a blow to know I haven’t got it.

I don’t know what else to say.

I thought … I don’t know what I thought.  Maybe that my chastity was a gift to you as well as from you. I can’t make you rich, but I can honor our relationship with honesty.

Knowing that you don’t believe in that makes me sad.  It also tempts me to find my own release as well.

Prince Cock Puppet

Did you really think that would work?

And … cheer up! Now it will be another week. What fun we will have.

xoxoxo

Thank you for a wonderful year.

Tonight and tomorrow: All calls ONLY $1.19 per minute

Everyone welcome:

new callers, old friends & old flames.

xo, Angela

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As you who follow me closely know, I didn’t do my usual tra la la for Christmas around this blog. No decorations. No falling snowflakes, which had become quite the tradition.  To kinda-sorta make up for it, you will note that today you have red snow!  I’ll keep it up through New Years Day and then it will be gone as we all buckle down to count the days till spring.

I don’t want you to think there was anything wrong. It was and continues to be a lovely holiday for me. In fact, starting tomorrow, we are going to celebrate in a very big way. You might want to check back. If you don’t check back, you’ll be kicking yourself in the ass. Just sayin.

So about my Christmas …

I got bamboozled (not that I fought that hard) into hosting Christmas for my family this year.   If I would have agreed when it was first brought up, things would have been just peachy, but I kept hemming and hawing and kicking my feet. So pretty much right at the threshold of all things Santa, I finally said yes.  Yes, Virgina, there is a Santa’s Little Helper and I am the chosen one.

So then it was a mad dash to whip up a Christmas to be remembered. And I was about the business of doing so right up until my family arrived Christmas day at 12 noon. Literally. I was just putting the vacuum cleaner away when the doorbell rang. Good fun was had by all, with my Pomegranate martinis being a big hit and my German potato celebrated muchly.  Gifts were exchanged with actual love and appreciation. It truly was a perfect Christmas.

But other things have been heavy on my heart, as I’m sure has been with most of you. It cannot be overstated that the Newtown tragedy is beyond unacceptable, anyway you cut it, from whatever side of the partisan fence you opine.  These  horrendous mass murders at schools and churches and theaters …  what the fuck?

Why is this continuing and what are we going to do about it? None of us should have to fear for our own lives or the lives of our loved ones. Children should be safe in their schools, and parents should be confident that this is the case.  I don’t have the answers.  But like Mr. T recently said to me, “We already know President Obama is a great orator. Now it’s time for him to show us he’s a great leader.”  Do something and do it now!

And now my heart is hurting all over again, so I’ll leave it here for now.

xo, Angela