I'm not sure how it was possible, but on Friday night I fell alseep on a couch in the middle of a poker party. There were at least 25 adults and another 15 children there, and somehow in the midst of the cacophony, I just passed out. Totally sober, mind you. Someone was kind enough to put a quilt on me. My boyfriend says I wasn't snoring, which is a good thing.
Yesterday my friend Y and his wife came over, and I taught him how to knit while his wife did some work. Watching a man knit is weirdly sexy. I kind of wanted to fling the yarn and needles on the floor and sit on his lap, but the wife wouldn't have approved so I controlled myself.
Speaking of sexy stuff, there's not much to report on. (Obviously, if knitting can get me hot and bothered. Ha. ) My boyfriend has continued to display pretty much complete disinterest in sex with me, which is par for the course. But since this is how it's been forever, I'm fairly resigned this is just how it is and is going to be. Despite the continuing lack of sex together, we've been getting along very well. Funny how that works. I guess I'll just look forward to the rare occasions when I get to have connected and passionate sex with a friend, instead of beating myself up about the fact that my boyfriend doesn't seem to want me. It's lazy, I know.
Someone commented that I have a responsibility to post regularly. Bah, I say. I'm not fond of responsibilities and I don't agree with that viewpoint. If I have something to say, I'll post, and if I don't, I won't. If everyone stops reading entirely, then so be it. I don't want to come across as if I don't give a hoot about my readers, but I do not feel as though I have some kind of responsibility to keep them entertained.