My habits of old have returned – yesterday’s blog sent in the evening so I awaken, read the blog and the related stories. I can usually find the thread but this time it is a circuitous focusing on the horrors of being hacked, a statistics report and my recent San Anselmo make over. I make an effort to be positive in my writing so reading about my days in the Trump is disconcerting. Disconcerting shall be the word of the day: he intense scrutiny was disconcerting: unsettling, unnerving, discomfiting, disturbing, perturbing, troubling, upsetting, worrying, alarming, distracting, off-putting; confusing, bewildering, perplexing.
It is off-putting to read of those days as they sound happy and are filled with people I no longer see. I look on it now as a time of horror and refer to the place as the Rump International Prison. The good moments did happen but it did not end on a happy note and in retrospect, the relationships were most superficial. I was used to bring good cheer and warmth to the vast empty spaces and vacuous people. It is harsh but true. But at the time I felt cosseted. . My goodness we must have two words of the day because cosseted just popped into my head and is SUCH a good word meaning: it was hurtful to them to see their father cosseting his stepchildren: pamper, indulge, overindulge, mollycoddle, coddle, baby, pet, mother, nanny, nursemaid, pander to, spoil; wait on someone hand and foot.Well I definitely was pampered but I did pay heavily for it.
But onto the promises made in yesterday’s blog. The contrast between two men’s reaction to the precious book. I attempted to gift the book to an English man with whom I was having a relationship.
Me: Here is my book, take a copy.
He: I can’t
Me: Well you could bury it in your back yard.
He: I don’t have a back yard.
That man and I were having a relationship, he lived with a woman and had for decades. He was at least age appropriate, therefore, he was reetired with time on his hands, not living in London so our contact with one another was sporadic. He knew a great deal about music and literature. It is a study in contrast, the only similar quality is that FPM lives in a distant place. FPM is in his thirties, extremely busy in his important job, immensely successful and definitely upward bound. He lives alone, we do not have a physical relationship, nor shall we. Mean Man refused to carry a portable device to stay in contact with me; FPM does but the silly man is always having technical difficulties and we laugh about it. So it is the difference between the two is black versus white. FPM is black; Mean Man is white. Mean man’s reaction to my ‘masterpiece’ left me feeling dejected, not valued and suppressed my creativity. I told no one of his reaction. Look at the joy and the sharing and the creativity that sprang from FPM’s careful read of the book, returning it with a wonderful (to be framed) note. By the way, DDD saw the book and has a brilliant idea for the publication and distribution. We shall talk soon of the details, so then and therefore, FPM can have a copy to keep and not bury in his back yard. He does not have a back yard either as he lives in an apartment. Hahahaha
There is also the reaction of my red glasses, which is admittedly a minor matter. FPM had this to say about them.
He: Btw I love your glasses. It gives you this cool, hip and very sophisticated look. Alright, I shall get going. Kisses and hugs!
Me: I have a funny story about the glasses. I shall tell you about it later. I sent his later.
Oh yes – glasses story. I went on one of my visits to SF and while there purchased four pair of glasses (4). I was having a ‘relationship’ with Joo Kim Tiah (the multibillionaire, ten) at the time and sent him a picture featuring my red glasses picturing also a suggestion for a wife (he had announced to the general world that it was time for him to wed). He did not like the suggestion for the wife nor did he like the red glasses. I was offended and told him so:
Me: What is the matter with you? Everyone else likes them.
He: Could I see some of the others, I might like them.
Me: OK I will – please tell me which one are your favorites.
You MUST remember that as the heir to a multibillion Chinese fortune, no one says Boo to him – much less what is the matter with you???So he chose the black ones and then the tortoise shell ones. Honest to Gawd this is the truth – I always tell the truth except sometimes I exaggerate. Go to my blog, Menu and then Gallery wherein are pictures of me wearing 8 pair of my glasses. The black ones are on the top left hand corner with the pink scarf and hat. As you can see I am pretty cute especially when I painted my face like the Canadian flag on July 1, 2017. But now I hate the country, I am so fickle. With hordes of affection
it is with embarrassment I confess that I wear my black glasses more frequently than my red ones but not to please Mr. Tiah whom I never see.
But onward to lighter matters. I must return my overdue books to the library. One of them The World’s 100 Weirdest Museums has been quoted in a prior blog. Well apparently in Vienna there is the Condomi Museum. “The majority of early condoms were made from either linen, or more alarmingly, sheep intestines, which led Casanova, surely the finest advert imaginable for the product, to complain, “I do not care to shut myself up in a piece of dead skin to prove that I am perfectly alive.” The museum traces the colorful history of condoms, which have apparently been around since 1564. “In the early part of the twentieth century, most condoms were imported from Germany, which meant when the Second World War broke out, British solders often prepared for action stations wearing German condoms” There are 300 exhibits including ones that play ‘Happy Birthday’. This is an equal opportunity museum so their is a vibrator exhibition and visitors are encouraged to hunt through their bottom drawers for any unwanted mechanisms to add to its “little collection of lustbringers.” pgs. 53-54.
What do we have in Canada? Gopher Hole Museum and Trekcetera Museum both found in Alberta.
England not very lively either with a Dog Collar Museum Teapot Island, Gnome Reserve, Vacuum Cleaner Museum, British Lawnmower Museum, a Pram Museum and a Milk Bottle Museum. How bloody boring, I may have to go to Vienna.
The photo accompanying this is me and a very young man, an infant. mIt was taken 23 years ago. I pretty much look the same, but he does not.
