trixtah: (Default)
So, I still haven't gotten the hang of folding fitted sheets - I do it, and then forget - and so I did a bit of YouTubing to find some helpful hints. I found one woman's cute post, and then saw she had a channel with such gems as "how to apply red lipstick". Ok, I watched that one - a skill I assume I'll never require - and thought, if this woman is not a dyke, she should be.

Well, how nice to know my gaydar is working well.

It also helps if the woman my gaydar is twingeing over is attractive; I'm so crass. She even makes cocktails. I might buy her book too. :-)

Move over, Nigella, I say.

trixtah: (Default)
There's one of the (straight) chicas at work who I semi-flirt with. She's very cute and cool. But straight and married. She does semi-flirt back (she's the personable and cute type with everyone, so no big). Nice way to pass time at work, but I did wonder if I was being overly charming around her to get that quality of interaction. However, I met her hubby the other evening, and I nearly LOL'd out loud. He's like the guy version of me. Similar hair, nose, glasses, height, geekiness and sense of humour. Ok, he's a bit more slender (she is nicely rounded) and doesn't have tits out to there. And obviously possesses other accoutrements. But that explains the semi-flirting, heh heh.

Last weekend she got the start of a back piece done, and today she was showing it to those who were interested (not gratuitously). It's going to look fab. She already has a small tattoo on her wrist (you know, nice and all that), but this back piece is her entire back, not the small thing I thought it would be. And it's very very groovy and is going to look amazing once the colour is in. So, I thought she was cute before, but I was really struggling to furl my tongue back into my head during the show-and-tell today.

She was telling me that hubby was a bit squicked about rubbing in cream into the freshly tattoo'd and raw skin (he's fine when it's past the scabbing stage, apparently) and it was a bit awkward doing it herself. I was sooooo restrained and didn't say, "I WILL!" No, I made a wee joke about vicarious sensitivity and casually strolled off. Such self-control. Honestly, I amaze myself. ;-)

trixtah: (Default)
  • Interesting teeth. If they're slightly prominent, or have wee gaps or the like. I don't like rotten-looking unwell teeth, but strong, and yes, interesting ones. Eve Myles, for example, hubba hubba.
  • Moles. Don't ask me why, but moles on pale skin. Related to this, dark-skinned people with noticeable freckles (normal freckles on pale people don't interest me so much, unless they are very well-defined ones).
  • Certain letters in people's names. I have a really bizarre preference for certain letters of the alphabet. J, K, R, A are letters I like. I have an aversion to G, P, Q, Y, N, O. In fact, I can pretty much rank all the alphabet on a scale, and some combinations as well. "ough" is a major dislike. While I like "J" "A" and "K", the combination "jak" is not good. So, if I find myself thinking someone's last name in particular is cool, there is something going on there with me.
  • Noses. I like longish well-defined/prominent ones, but not tipping over to Jimmy Durante. Also, more straight than not (although bumps are fine) - I particularly do not have a yen for retrousse noses. As for Bruce Willis, yergh
  • Interesting ways of speaking. If someone has somewhat idiosyncratic way of speaking, such as creative (but not opaque) choice of language. Or those who know the rules and break them in a fun way - who like playing with language. Or some quirks of accent. One of my exes says "eldse" for "else" - it's a regionalism - and I love it. Other ones, like "fings" (for "things"), drive me nuts.
  • People who are shorter than me. Can't rationalise it, and it certainly doesn't stop me from having partners who are taller or the same height, but all being equal, I seem to end up with the shorter (but not necessarily "petite") ones.
  • Leos, Geminis, Aireses, Pisceans. I have horrendous attractions to Scorpios. With Aries people, they're the only ones who I  ever experience lust for at first sight. But I have rotten rotten sex with Scorpios. No, I take it back - I've had good sex with one Scorp, but he was a guy. I have awesome sex with Leos, but it can be difficult getting there, since there is often a mutual wariness until we get to know each other. Tauruses and I have decent sex, but relationships end up going to a bad place - I seem to attract the doormat kind, and that dynamic makes me fairly mean (and not in a good way; I dislike myself mightily and it's break-up time if I find myself slipping into it). Other Cancerians = virtually no attraction and baaad sex. Virgos, Sagittarians and Aquarians are people I've never had an inkling of attraction to (except for one Aquarius, my last boss). There are lots of Capricorns I've had the hots for, but I've never been lovers with one. Oh, except one guy, who was definitely nothing to write home about. Librans are fab, but sex seems to require quite a bit of adjustment to work. Not sure why.
I really don't know what I feel about astrology, but I have certainly encountered some wierd patterns. For example, the lust-at-first-sight thing. It doesn't happen often, but it has never happened with any other star sign than the two I mentioned (and no, I didn't know what star signs they were when my tongue fell out of my face). Never ever. And I've never had bad sex with any of the first four star signs I mentioned. Sometimes a learning curve, but it is always  good stuff. And often bloody mind-blowing.
trixtah: (Default)
PJ Harvey and Björk do a cover of the Rolling Stones' Satisfaction. It starts off  bit slow, but frankly I don't care because I think Polly Jean is so hot I could watch her covering Tammy Wynette's greatest hits. Even if they were then followed by Sid Vicious and Yoko Ono duets. Mmm mmm mmm. Mmmm.

Then here's Stevie Nicks as a Tex-Mex restaurant owner, as played by the lovely Lucy Lawless. I know it's silly, and you have to ignore the really irritating audience laugh track, but you know, Fleetwood Mac and some of Stevie's solo offerings was a big chunk of the emo music of my teenage years. I still love songs like Dreams and so on.

I didn't fancy Stevie though. No, I reserved my rock-chick fancies for babes like Pat Benatar (god, those hair-dos... and woo-hoo, the fight-dance!) and Chrissy Hynde, while the rock-boy equivalent was Prince (such a bad boy, sexin up that nice wee Sheena Easton).

Ok, this lolcat made me cry with laughter. OMGWTFBBQ!

Prince linkie fixed now too. :-)


Feb. 6th, 2007 10:27 pm
trixtah: (Default)
Well, it looks like Bad Girls has finally hit the US, and I have just hit YouTube linky gold - a full set of clips that put the Nikki and Helen story together. Since the rest of the show didn't really work for me, this means I can see all the good parts I missed.

Simone Lahbib, OMFG. "Jim, I don't need a bodyguard, I can handle the prisoners myself, thank you." Ahah. And you know, "Shit happens." Awwww. [Even if Nikki's alternating fits of pouting, snivelling and rashness still drive me nutty.]
trixtah: (Default)
Ok, I don't possess a TV - I have never owned one of my own - and I don't imagine myself getting one in a hurry. I just wish you could plug gaming consoles into an LCD screen (the kind attached to a computer).

So, as you may gather, there isn't much TV that I see. I've loved Torchwood, I am enjoying Heroes and I did watch all of the latest series of Doctor Who, despite the fact I wish David Tennant would disappear into a singularity. However, I have some guilty secrets: I watched all of the first series of Desperate Housewives (am I the only person in the world who thinks that Bree is a sex goddess?), although I don't have any desire to get the rest. And I am addicted to The L Word. I mean, cute girlie-girls getting it on with each other? Just call me Bubba.

So, I just watched the show that was broadcast on Monday in the US, which is the 3rd of this new series. Thank god, it was fab. As good as the best eps in the first series (if we don't count Marina). The pretentious arty Jenny moment was actually amusing, if you realised it was a homage to A Streetcar Named Desire, down to the saxophone music. Jenny was an amusing fruit loop. Max was almost endearing... despite his macking up to the boss's daughter and still somehow not divulging his status. The ensemble pieces were mainly great, except the "straights vs queers" cocktail party - stereotypes much? The showdown between Shane and Papi was fun. Cybill Shepherd is doing a decent job, and hopefully her botox will wear off a bit soon. Alice was cute, of course. I even managed to ignore Angstus and his sulking.

But. That good stuff pales into insignificance next to Bette. It's interesting, because Jennifer Beals strikes me as more than a little bit hippy-dippy in RL (not in a bad way), but she can play determined, proper, type-A, focussed, kick-arse chick in style. And those skirts. Dear bloody god. You can't call it walking, what she does in them. And there she is, struggling with her ethics for all of 5 seconds before she unleashes the Bette Beast. Rrrrrrowr. And while her perky blonde little offsider doesn't do it for me in the slightest, she at least does a good job of seeming caught up in the whirlwind. And what a fiiiine whirlwind it is too. Welcome back, to Bette and her moves.

I suppose it's too much to hope they sustain that quality throughout the rest of the series, but I certainly have higher hopes than I did a few weeks back.
trixtah: (lust)
I was having a chat with one of my exes (and good friend) this morning, about identity politics. She's in a phase where she's unsure of what she's doing on the sexual orientation spectrum. I personally think that if a label fits, use it, but don't get boxed into owning 100% of a category. Anyone who is a reasonable human being is a more-or-less hazy constellation of the labels that might apply to them - as soon as you try to start defining yourself by absolutes, you'll have to start chopping bits off yourself to fit. The Procrustean myth is a good warning, IMO.

Secondly, yesterday while I was helping them dog-wrangle, [ profile] saluqi, [ profile] faxon  and I were talking about Desperate Remedies, which is one of New Zealand's cooler and quirkier movies. I had to confess that I had a thing about Kevin Smith, one of the actors (of course, for [ profile] saluqi, it was about the frocks). Also, a fey Cliff Curtis isn't a bad thing either.

So, in an effort to show that a fairly butch dyke isn't necessarily limited by her labels, I present you to you the four sexy man-beasts who I actually do go "Phwoar!" at:
  • Naveen Andrews (ok, hair and eyes, I know, I know)
  • Hugh Jackman (do I need to say more? But I wish he'd get better haircuts in RL).
  • Lenny Kravitz (and why can't I find suits like this to wear? I suppose not being a filthy rich rock star might have something to do with it. And big boobs would spoil the line. *sigh*)
  • The aforementioned Kevin Smith, and him in Desperate Remedies (it's all about the sideburns, mmm.)
So there you go. However, the guys I very rarely fancy in RL aren't big macho man-beasts. Quiet strength, a nice voice, humour, lack of sexism, lack of passive-aggressive "baby me" behaviour, and, er, long hair and grooming are things I notice. But I notice those qualities in women a lot more quickly. Oh well.
trixtah: (lust)
I don't care about what mechanism appears to make astrology work more often than not, but I think it's often just as valid as a lot of stuff that's spouted in the realms of psychology and sociology. However, I don't swallow it whole; I take it as it fits (with much of that realm of stuff).

So, the moon was in Scorpio when I was born. This apparently means that I can be "Brooding, Intense, Motivated, Dominating, Spiteful, Loyal, Creative, Suspicious". Well, hm. I only brood occasionally. I'm not in the slightest bit spiteful or suspicious, and I'm not terribly motivated in general. I don't think I have fantastic willpower. In fact, the only qualities I totally agree with there are "intense" and "loyal". However, Milton Black has some more relevant things to say:

You have strongly pronounced likes and dislikes.  (Really?!)
You tend to hold what others would term peculiar moral and social ideals. (*cough*)
You cannot abide criticism of your actions, because you hold fast to your ideals and try to live by them. (At least my reaction to that kind of criticism has somewhat improved with age!)

But a common theme for us moon in Scorp types is a liking for privacy. For me, this isn't the same as liking secrecy, but it can tip over that if someone starts digging too hard at something that doesn't concern them. Not something that happens to me that often these days. When I was a kid, I used to love reading stories about houses with secret passages and priest's holes and the like. I would spend hours fantasising about building tunnel networks under the house. Ok, literally escapist fantasies, heh, but they have a specific kind of form.

Getting to the point (yes, there is one), I WANT one of these secret rooms!!1! Aren't they bloody cool? I wouldn't be sticking a study or a studio in there, though. I'm sure I could come up something a lot more interesting to put in such a funky kind of space. If I ever get to build my dream house, I'm going to get one of those.
trixtah: (Default)
By “library smut” I am in no way referring to the photo books on native peoples, or the illustrated health manuals, or any of the other volumes which, in your childhood, you lurked about the library aisle to find with the sole purpose of sneaking guilty glances at naked bodies. Nor am I referring to the “risqué” novels by Miller, Cleland, Réage, or Lawrence [or Burton (unexpurgated Arabian Nights), or Colette, or Nin, or Sheikh Nefzaoi (The Perfumed Garden)] you leafed impatiently through as a teenager. No. What I’m talking about here is the full-frontal objectification of the library itself. Oh yeah.
Just sumptuous pictures. I've been to the British Library reading room (of course - it was not far from work), but none of the others, alas. When I went to the UK, it was with the intention of eventually going to Trinity College in Dublin to study computational linguistics. I wish I had. I particularly like the libraries in Rio, Den Haag, and the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. Pure sex.

I think I need this book. Or to be living in one of those places.
trixtah: (Default)
Why didn't I watch this earlier? Naveen Andrews!!!!11!!!  I had no idea he was in this! Ok, I've resigned myself to the fact that no-one's ever going to cast him with long hair again, like they did in The English Patient, but at least it's long enough. :-) *drooool!*

He makes about as convincing an Iraqi as I do, but he can act. I'm enjoying the programme itself overall, but it doesn't grab me the way that Firefly did, if we're going to talk American TV - too many standard gender roles, methinks. And bugger-all humour. Still, the eye-candy is pretty bloody fabulous. And by that, I mean the landscape too - I'm definitely going back to Hawaii one day.

*goes back to Ep 9 and more drooling* (Plot, what plot?)
trixtah: (Default)
As I mentioned, I saw the X-Men movie on Sunday evening, and did my usual perving over Famke Janssen.  It galled me that Wolverine wimped out from his manly duty when she jumped him (and I did like seeing Hugh Jackman with his shirt off again, but I wish he'd get better haircuts in RL). But maybe I have a thing for (not too) castrating bitches. Speaking of lust objects, I don't normally do the androgenous thing, but I certainly got my drool on for the actress who played Arclight (second from right, here) in the movie, Omahyra Mota. mmm hmmm.

I'm now thinking of other actors I have the hots for (not in any particular order):

Pascale Bussières (from When Night is Falling, but she is just as stunning in anything. Phwooar.)
Jodhi May (brains AND gorgeousness, who can resist?)
Jada Pinkett-Smith (for general cuteness and attitude)
Karina Lombard (who played Marina in The L Word). The only thing I think when I look at that woman is "Holy hell".
Daniel Day Lewis (when he and I were both younger)
Michelle Yeoh (not only does she look good, but she can move)
Joseph Fiennes (ok, one of the few men at whom I went "mmm" at first sight. Such a pretty mouth and eyes)
Natalie Portman (she's just getting better as she gets older)
Ziyi Zhang (while we're talking seemingly-ethereal-but-core-of-steel)
Matthew Macfadyen (he's got a nice accent, although I do prefer him with his hair a la Darcy)
Jessica Alba (alright, alright, pure eyecandy).
Rachel Weisz (only reason I went to see Constantine)
Keanu Reeves (ok, I lied about Constantine. I just wish he would never open his mouth. Ever.)
Drew Barrymore (do I need to say anything here?)
Gina Torres
(Zoe from Firefly. But I think every single female character from that series is delicious. Amazing).
Lucy Lawless (my one claim to ...something was that I met her at a party in Auckland in the late 80s. There you go)

Honorable mentions:

Like everyone else in the world, I wouldn't chuck Angelina Jolie out of bed. And Sean Maher from Firefly gets the award for best shirtless male EVAH.


Feb. 11th, 2006 10:00 pm
trixtah: (Default)
"...don't come easy to me
How can I find a way
To make you see
I love you
Words don't come easy."

There you go, crappy 80s emo song of the day. FR David, what a whiner. Being a one-hit wonder was both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because he didn't inflict any more songs on us; a curse because we had to endure that PoS for weeks before it went away. Other than being whiny, what a stupid lyric - he's talking about words and he wants the love object to see he loves her/him. Puhlease.

And what's worse is I didn't need to google either the lyric or the guy's name. They're emblazoned on my brain, seemingly forever. Googling... ack! there is a discography - 1982 - 24 effing years. My brain was obviously a sponge when I was 14.

That's all a big diversion. I've been mulling over trying to lure people into *cough*sharing*cough* an online sub to the OED. I've been missing it. However, a one-year sub costs around $AU540. At the moment, the Compact OED (which is the whole 20 volume set in one volume - the original pages are digitally reduced and printed 9-up in this edition -they provide a magnifying glass) is going on Amazon for $AU300.

Hell, it's almost worth buying a dictionary a year and flogging each one off for half-price when you get the next one. But I find it incredibly bloody irksome that the printed and bound version is nearly HALF the price of the online version!!!!11!! I dearly love the OED, but I think OUP's marketing department need a big bloody kick in their collective goolies.

So, what to do now? It's really an addiction I need to slake (especially since the OED's free offer is running out in a couple of days). I could go work at universities again... (yet another appealing reason to do so).

But, here's me being a geek. I would love to own the compact edition. What a piece of the printer's art! The scanning and reduction of the type was possible 10 and more ago years ago, digitally or photographically (when I was a photolithographer), but I'm pretty sure the actual physical ink-and-paper technology must have come a ways as well. Assuming that the type is smaller than Gideon-bible size, that is, and that the pages are properly opaque.
trixtah: (Default)
I had a bit of a movie weekend this weekend.

Firstly, I watched Desert Hearts again, for the first time in about 10 years. You know, I'm so glad I had that for my "coming out" movie. It played at the Auckland Film Festival in 1986, in my last year of school, and just after I decided that this sex with girls thing was really me. How nice to have a positive cultural icon to relate to.

I'm glad I saw it before reading the book. Some of the decisions made for the movie - such as changing Ann's name to "Cay" and making her a sculptor rather than a cartoonist - seem rather egrerious in hindsight. My favourite scene in the book - where Vivian and Silver help pick out Ann's pewter dress - is necessarily missing. "Pewter... the colour of your eyes" doesn't really work when the actress has almost black eyes. It's a shame, because it was where Silver essentially scoped out Vivian, and handed over the torch. So to speak. I'm also slightly annoyed how the movie skips across Silver and Ann/Cay's relationship, although it's kind of implied in the bath scene.

Still, it's a fabulous romantic movie. I can't decide whether it beats out When Night Is Falling for total escapist romance... Hell, why decide? It's also interesting how one's tastes change as one gets older. In 1986, I thought that Helen Slater was yummo as Vivian, but Patricia Charbonneau was teh hawt. Now, I totally worship Helen Slater, whose acting is fab and utterly shows the conflict that goes on in those circs, and sit there wishing they'd gotten a better dialogue coach for Patricia Charbonneau, who makes an "interesting" meld of an attempted US-western accent, and her own native Canadian. Well, it's kind of cute, and so is she.

I'm trying to figure out whether the movie had an effect on what appears to be a real fetish I have for women smoking. Well, "real" in terms of the fact that I find it a big turn-on, not that I have to have it to get me off. It's bloody bizarre, because I find smoking as a habit pretty gross (in terms of smell and detrius), and it's certainly an addiction I don't grok. I get the fact it is addictive, but I don't understand how anyone smokes enough cigarettes to get hooked in the first place. Mind you, I smoked pot a couple of years before I even tried a cigarette, and it seemed fairly... pointless, after that. There you go, how to stop the kids from getting hooked on tobacco - make sure they smoke marijuana at a formative age. :-)

Anyway, Helen Shaver smoking cigarettes. Dear lord. I'm tempted to run out and visit my g/f with some cigarettes in my hot little hand and make her have at least one in front of me. (She doesn't really smoke now, but she used to.) Disgusting, I am.
Narnia )

If they make the others, I'll undoubtedly see them, because they're better stories. I'm just hoping that if they use the same actors, that they improve as much as the Harry Potter ones have (although I really don't think they were that bad in the first HP movie. Must see it again and check).
trixtah: (Default)
I've been meaning to do this for a while, and since I need to cheer myself up (the trouble with having technologically-challenged friends is that they don't answer their bloody emails)...

Trix's list of the L-Word cast in order of shaggability )
And can I just say that the above ratings refer to their characters? For example, I think that Erin Daniels seems like a groovy person, but she doesn't trip my gaydar or bi-dar in the slightest, and, I'm sorry, but a professional tennis player does NOT have arms like limp spaghetti (advice to show writers: do not ever get her to do a scene lifting weights again. Just too pathetic). And I think Mia Kirshner is cool too, although she has to play the most gratuitously out-there stuff as Jenny. Leisha Hailey, especially in her brunette incarnation, is the person I'd probably find the most attractive in RL (always excepting Karina Lombard...).
trixtah: (Default)
Thanks to the modern wonders of Bittorrent, I finally got to see The L Word (I would link to the official site, but it's not accessible outside the US. WTF?). And, hey, give me a break, I don't possess a TV, and haven't done for years. :-)

I can see what the hype was about, I enjoyed it. Lots of attractive women (ok, a little thin for my taste, but I can cope) doing the wild thing, AND there's some story in there too. Goodness. The files I downloaded are excellent quality, but I think I'll be getting the DVD set. That and Firefly; this TV thing is getting addictive!

I'm slightly croggled, though, because the Marina character is just like my best friend and occasional play-buddy in London. Just imagine her more my height (5'6"), shorter hair, generally dressed in black, and with a to-die-for slight Portuguese accent (not that Karina Lombard's accent isn't gorgeous). Everything else is the same: the cheekbones, the confidence, the low deliberate voice, the interest in literature, the charm, the intensity, the "I'm going to do what I like to you, and you will enjoy it" vibe. Wow. I admit it, I didn't really notice the others (and I had a wild crush on Jennifer Beals when I was 16 - I saw Flashdance six bloody times).

Hm. Gosh. It's disconcerting enough when you see someone on the street whose manner or look reminds you strongly of someone you know, but to kind of see a sustained portrayal on screen that is so spookily similar is pretty bizarre. Never encountered that before. Well, I'm sure the rest of the series will be enjoyable... :-)

Sydney II

May. 7th, 2005 06:42 pm
trixtah: (Default)
I like being here, much more so than Canberra. Canberra is so utterly homogonised, except perhaps for the ambassadors and their various families. Here, there are all sorts. I miss this kind of cultural diversity.

I really like King Street here in Newtown. Just to put in Auckland terms, it's like a big long Ponsonby Rd crossed with K Rd, without K Rd's sleaziness or Ponsonby Rd's - I have to say it - ponciness. The area around reminds me of Grey Lynn/Ponsonby, those late-19th Century central Auckland suburbs. Narrow streets and small houses (especially in Australian terms), and those vibrant yet slightly-decayed-round-the-edges-shops. The queer culture (not just "gay") is evident, and it is like standing in a revitalising rainstorm. I haven't realised how much I've missed it.

So, I've done my normal "holiday" pursuits: spent way too much money on books, music and especially food. I've tried sampling coffee around and about, but haven't really found a cup that makes me go, "Yum!". I had high hopes of a cafe called Allegro, where they roast on the premises, but like everywhere else I've encountered so far around here, they do a light French roast which is too acidic for my taste. Dark roast is the way to go, for me. To put in spice terms, it's like the difference between nutmeg and cinnamon: nutmeg is great for extra zing and a sharper note, but if you want your apple pie to taste right, it has to be cinnamon. Oh, and speaking of hot drink oddness, to all those baristas out there, chocolate sprinkled over one's chai latte does NOT work. Kills the small hint of spices you get in the commercial syrups and you most certainly can't taste the tea. Cinnamon OR nutmeg are just fine, thank you.

I just had some delicious sushi - just from a sushi robot, but yummo. While I was there, they were showing stuff from a Japanese TV programme on sushi - how the fish is caught, how it's prepared, types of sushi, etc. They kept doing long slow food porn shots of the rich and glistening hunks of flesh, I mean fish. But they killed the mood with a nice middle-aged Japanese bloke complete with bushy fu manchu moustache and pony tail, gobbling it up, and, presumably, giving a spiel on what it tastes like. Frankly, I'd much rather watch Nigella Lawson doing food porn, any time. I'd much rather watch Nigella Lawson doing ANY porn, any time. Or in fact, anything at all, if it's in close proximity to me. (sorry, gratuitous Nigella-dribble there).

I had good intentions of going to the Australia Museum today, but didn't get the time. As well as my coffee search, I bumped into one of my old colleagues, Chris, who left my last workplace to come back to Australia a couple of months after I left. So off we went and caught up on the goss and talked boring techie talk. He's looking so much happier and relaxed back here, and he told to me that he is utterly relieved to be out of Wellington. It was very evident. Personally, I'd be relieved to be back there, but it's all about what we have an affinity for, isn't it? I also can't believe I just bumped into the only other person I know in Sydney; I didn't have a clue that he lived in Newtown, and there ARE 4 million people in this town, after all.

Other than catching up with Chris, I also had the massage from hell (actually, it was fantastic), which I evidently needed, given how much everything is aching right now. But my upper back is sooo much looser and I feel like I've dropped 20 kilos. Must remember that while I'm not having sex, a massage is a GOOD THING to have regularly. The massage chappie told me that everything was completely locked up (yes, I could tell that when he ran his fingers down my spine, and I had to stop myself from yelping, in several places)... but that once he had a chance to work on me, everything loosened up incredibly well. Sounds like me, really, all or nothing.

So, I'm back off home tomorrow evening, but I hope to get to the museum in the morning, it's just a quick train ride from here. And I've definitely decided that I need to come visit more often, so as to be able to recharge various of my batteries more often.


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