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thepnutgalleryKen never called back Thursday night, but he did send me an e-card the following morning, apologizing for it. It was sweet, and I'm trying to find a way to save it, other than just making the web page available offline. I ended up helping Ken get ready for his trip on Friday, which ate up my afternoon from 12 on. Not like I was doing anything important, and I got to see Ken from the time he got home 'till I left for Rocky. Only in drunken retrospect do I appreciate this. I gave him head in the afternoon, and thought that not having goodbye sex wouldn't be so bad, but I thought too soon. Always courteous, he took care of things shortly before I took off for th show. I shot like some kind of rockstar, as compared to my usual shots. Rocky went well, though not so well as last week. The guest Frank was pretty awesome, but I jetted just as soon as I could, all the same. I didn't sleep well, or long, as we got up at 5:30. Dropped Ken off and gave him a remarkably unremarkable goodbye kiss as I dropped him off. Drove home to find some kind of street faire setting up on Adams, but it wasn't open, so parking was still simple.
Found a message from Ken on myspace, written after I had left for the show (when he had been drinking, just a touch), which was at once scary and charming and confusing. Tried to respond, but I took too long writing it the first two times, and it didn't seem to actually send. Came back to it yesterday evening, and sent something that definitely looks like I wrote it.
I missed Ken on Saturday night, especially reading his message, and that ain't nothing to now. I'm not sure if I worry more about spending the week miserable from missing him, or my standard of toughening the fuck up and not missing him. I go back and forth, and I can't trust my head to tell me which I'd rather. Just as bad is that he asked me (a couple weeks ago) not to sleep with anyone while he was away and I said yes. Sleeping with Ken exclusively, while utterly impossible in the long run, isn't so bad when I'm able to sleep next to him most every night. This s*** is fucking ridiculous with him out of the country/my arms. F.U.C.K.I.N.G. R.I.D.I.C.U.L.O.U.S.
On a completely unrelated side note, y'all should check out L'Aventure Fantastique, by Fantasic Plastic Machine, for instant happy, and Back to Black by Amy Winehouse, for instant not-so-happy. Her whole album is excellent, but the title track is especially super, especialy if you're emo over a boy who's not there (What, Squeak? Emo?! The fuck you say).
I like Amy Winehouse, and I wish her great success, as I do anyone who makes it big doing what they love, although I kind of hope her life has been as rough as it seems to have, to deserve the kind of flossy flossy she seems to be gettting now. Is that wrong?
Last but not least, I thought I saw someone take a picture last Sunday while I was on the couch with Ken...I'd very much like to see that pic, if it was indeed of us.
Found a message from Ken on myspace, written after I had left for the show (when he had been drinking, just a touch), which was at once scary and charming and confusing. Tried to respond, but I took too long writing it the first two times, and it didn't seem to actually send. Came back to it yesterday evening, and sent something that definitely looks like I wrote it.
I missed Ken on Saturday night, especially reading his message, and that ain't nothing to now. I'm not sure if I worry more about spending the week miserable from missing him, or my standard of toughening the fuck up and not missing him. I go back and forth, and I can't trust my head to tell me which I'd rather. Just as bad is that he asked me (a couple weeks ago) not to sleep with anyone while he was away and I said yes. Sleeping with Ken exclusively, while utterly impossible in the long run, isn't so bad when I'm able to sleep next to him most every night. This s*** is fucking ridiculous with him out of the country/my arms. F.U.C.K.I.N.G. R.I.D.I.C.U.L.O.U.S.
On a completely unrelated side note, y'all should check out L'Aventure Fantastique, by Fantasic Plastic Machine, for instant happy, and Back to Black by Amy Winehouse, for instant not-so-happy. Her whole album is excellent, but the title track is especially super, especialy if you're emo over a boy who's not there (What, Squeak? Emo?! The fuck you say).
I like Amy Winehouse, and I wish her great success, as I do anyone who makes it big doing what they love, although I kind of hope her life has been as rough as it seems to have, to deserve the kind of flossy flossy she seems to be gettting now. Is that wrong?
Last but not least, I thought I saw someone take a picture last Sunday while I was on the couch with Ken...I'd very much like to see that pic, if it was indeed of us.
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