Golden Notebook

It's like I've been waiting all my life to be 33. What is so satisfying at this age is the new level of self-accountability: I've been an adult for a while now, so I'm responsible for--I created--this reality that I'm living today. If there were things I was unhappy about regarding my childhood or my upbringing or my education, I've had enough time to set things right, to transform my life, and let loose my untame spirit.

I've uploaded a new photo gallery, which includes pictures from the February New York Times Sunday brunch, pictures from last week's visit to see my new baby niece in Ithaca, pictures from Vegas, and of course the gratuitous portrait of Harlee.

What have I been doing all month? There was the New York Times Sunday brunch on February 5th, which was wonderful, although there was way too much drinking and not enough reading going on. Next time, there will be a required 8-minute reading period during each hour, and anyone who breaks this rule will be forced to mix the next round of drinks. Also, I am seriously considering hiring a caterer for April's brunch because I want to move beyond mini-quiches.

Yes, the rumors are true. A very cute submissive guy came to my house and spent four hours cleaning my kitchen after the brunch. And then he poured me a martini and rubbed my feet. My therapist couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it.

Later that week, an entirely different very cute submissive guy--Steve Elliott--came to town. I took him out to lunch at Lindey's and then he gave a reading at Ohio State from his new anthology of political fiction.

Later that week (do all my paragraphs have to start this way?), I saw Transamerica with my friend Natalie, and then we went dancing at Wall Street, similar the lesbian bars I used to go to in P-town and Northampton in the early 90's. Natalie and I caused a bit of a stir as we tried to make the best of our one wild and precious life. Hungover, we ate blueberry muffins and watched DVDs on Saturday.

On Sunday, I attended the NLA meeting, which featured an excellent and very useful presentation about BDSM scene emergencies. For example, what do you tell the 911 dispatcher if something goes wrong while you are playing? What should every domme have in her first aid kit? How do you get a big guy down from a bondage suspension if he passes out? Stuff like that.

My Valentine's Day date could not be in town on Tuesday, so we had our date on Wednesday instead, and it was delightful. Thank you thank you thank you for the necklace! We ate dinner at G. Michael's in the German Village and then scratched off "Love Lottery Tickets" and then we experimented with liquid latex and latex underwear, which led me to quickly develop a latex fetish.

On Thursday, I spanked someone really really hard. That felt great.

On Friday, I went to Ithaca, NY to see my sister and my new baby niece, Sadie Rose. I think I will be a very good aunt. I'm undecided about having my own kids. There is so much about childbearing and childbirth and childrearing that scares me. And yet, I know in my bones that having a child adds a rich and wonderful layer to a woman's life. But, on the other hand, I've experienced a lot of things that most women haven't experienced, so maybe that will be enough. The main point is that I don't want to have any regrets.

Tpast few weeks have been a bit hazy. It took me a long time to recover from hedonism-withdrawal after my trip to Las Vegas. And then I started drinking vodka and sparkling grape juice (the oxymoron-tini) in the middle of the day, which didn't help. And I almost got into a fistfight at the gay leather bar. What have I become?! Anyway, things are looking up. On Monday, I had a good therapy appointment and then I went grocery shopping at Whole Foods. I cooked chicken and sweet potato stew at my house while my mom simultaneously cooked chicken and sweet potato stew at her house. On Tuesday, my attorney and I ate Ginger Miso Soup and the so-called Petite Meadow Salad at Benevolence. Then, I took some surprisingly good self-portraits using my tripod, and sent those to my clients. On Wednesday, I worked like crazy. I had two sessions from 3-6pm and 8-11pm. Intense. On Thursday, I slept late and then ate lunch with Doc at Pete's Cafe Corner. Pete's Cafe Corner is right around the corner from my house but I never went there because Pete used to run an advertisement that said, "Come Sit on Pete's Big Deck." I mean, really. But it turns out the food is super, and Pete is hot, so such tasteless insinuations will be forgiven. On Friday, Jason and I made our periodic pilgrimage to Dragonfly for neo-vegan cuisine! Dragonfly is getting more upscale. The servers are less friendly but the food is even better and they give you an amuse buche, little tastes of things before the meal. We shared five plates total, and my favorite was the totsoi greens + nameko mushrooms. On Saturday, I drank bloody maries with friends while watching Eve Ensler's Vagina Monologues on DVD! If my vagina could wear any outfit, it would wear a cowboy hat.

Interesting things that have happened in 2006:

I became an aunt!

Harlee and I celebrated two years of living together as dog and person! Harlee is now sleeping with her head on my pillow.

I modeled for two photo shoots! One was for a fine artist who will use the photographs for his drawings; the other was for a fetish photographer. I tried to shape my face into the disinterested, daydreaming gazes found in Steve Diet Goedde's books. I am kind of uncomfortable making serious faces, but I found it helped that I wore heavy makeup because I could pretend I was wearing a mask.

I had two dreams! In the first one, everyone--friends, family, and complete strangers--wanted to put their clothes in my washing machine. In the second one, one of my legs was longer than the other. Balance, balance.

I saw Jack Rinella give another talk! I love Jack! He says he's having more sex in his 50's than he did in his 20's.

Today's blog entry is dedicated to Jason's cat, who might appreciate this shout out if she is surfing the web while Jason is away for the holidays.

When I got home from Boston, I became obsessed with the Olive Garden. I'm not sure what this was about because I am a food snob, but I ate there three times in ten days. And furthermore, I ordered the same thing dish every time. So, if you take into account the leftovers that I ate for lunch, it would be safe to say that I've eaten nonstop chicken parmigiana for two weeks.

Harlee and I had an interesting adventure this week. It was very very cold earlier in the week, and I couldn't bear the stop-and-start of walking Harlee on the leash, so we drove out the Blendon Woods Metro Park, where she could go off the leash and I could walk at a reasonable pace to keep warm. We walked about a mile when suddenly Harlee stopped and wouldn't go any further. She could hear something, but I could not. So we waited. And then a huge man and a huge dog came swooping down the trail. The dog wore a harness and pulled the man who was strapped to a mini sled. Harlee, who is usually a bully around other dogs, took one look at them and turned around and ran in the opposite direction. The other dog went chasing after Harlee, pulling the man on his sled. They chased her down the trail until Harlee made a sharp 180, and the man and his dog went toppling over into the snow. Smart move, Harlee! Anyway, the man, whose name was Michael, turned out to be very nice and he told me about training his 18 month husky for the iditarod.

Here is a picture of Jenny and I wearing our Happy Baby t-shirts:

Okay, yeah. I'm home, after a fabulous trip to the east coast. I saw a bunch of people who I love very much. The best meal I ate was probably in the Bar Room at the new MOMA: perfectly grilled wild Atlantic salmon. This salmon was so delicious that I kept thinking about it during the train ride back to Connecticut. I stayed at a hotel in Stamford, Connecticut because there were no hotel rooms in Manhattan for less than $900/night. I'm serious. Bad timing. The strange thing was that when I got back to Ohio, I felt like Christmas should be over by now, but it's not! Not that I'm a grinch by any stretch. Last night I trimmed my infamous rotating fiber-optic tree, strung some lights, and polished my menorah.

I was lying in bed thinking about how absolutely perfect my trip was, and then I started feeling kind of suspicious, and I asked myself, "Isn't it a little odd that your trip was so great, and that your trips are always so great, and that your life is always so fucking great?" I realized that I always focus on the good stuff and forget about the bad. So I decided to play a little game, in which I complain about everything that went wrong during my trip and make it sound bad. Here is a list of 10 reasons why my trip was absolutely terrible!

1. I overslept because I was up late cleaning up after the fabulous New York Times brunch.

2. I was too tired to figure out Boston public transportation, so I blew $25 on a cab, and the cab driver noticeably held his breath when we drove through a long tunnel en route to the aquarium.

3. There was no soup at the aquarium snack bar.

4. There was no internet access on the train to Connecticut. Or any train, for that matter.

5. The people working at the MOMA were mean.

6. In the Billy Joel musical, the protagonist is seen to be at his lowest point of misery and despair when he tries S/M and flirts with a transgendered person.

7. I kept missing the express train and then the gorgeous rock star sitting next to me on the train talked nonstop.

8. There was a blizzard, which seemed to shut down the airport, from what I could see from my huge three-room corner suite.

9. I drank so much champagne that I couldn't have an orgasm.

10. I had to say goodbye.

Today's update is dedicated to Alana. Alana, I just read your blog and noticed that you wanted to go dancing with me on November 3rd. Also Alana, you hosted a super craftastic fabulousness this weekend. Here is a picture of the matchbox diary that I constructed at the gathering. Inside is an autographed pizza receipt.

Let's go dancing soon.

On Monday, I brought my car in to the women-owned-and-operated Alternative Auto Care for a 35,000 mile check up. Since I had to leave it in the shop all day, it was a perfect excuse to lie around on the couch with Harlee and read manuscripts for a local poetry contest. Today I went grocery shopping at Whole Foods for the tiny Thanksgiving dinner that I will prepare for my tattoo artist. It's going to be a pleasant blend of our backgrounds: for example, I agreed to make green bean casserole, but I'm using organic green beans and cream of portobello mushroom soup. And I'll serve gluten-free all-natural pecan pie with cool whip.