tuesday tmi edition plus other stuff

First of all, I need to publicly announce that while I was digging out yesterday with the entire rest of my neighborhood--everyone seemed to come to the conclusion that the storm was mostly over at the exact same time--the old guy (not one of the sons) next door came over with his GIANT snowblower and shushed me out of the way and proceeded to do my whole sidewalk plus the part of the driveway I hadn't finished yet INCLUDING the tough part where the plows pile up the snow. Cookies apparently get you somewhere.

No, as I was saying elsewhere, apparently the whole family has decided to take pity on poor pathetic husband-less me. Part of me was going, "No, no, I've been going to the gym, I can handle this, I'M IN SHAPE," but fortunately I subdued it. I hate to perpetuate the stereotype of a weak and helpless woman, but sometimes it's just convenient to roll with it. (Yeah, I know, I'm going to hell.) But I'm sure it gave him the warm fuzzies to do his good deed for the week, I *was* the only chick out on the whole street for serious, and he has a GIANT SNOWBLOWER. That thing is monstrously powerful.

I don't know why I'm shouting at you with the cap lock key. Excuse me.

So now onto the TMI portion of our mutual day. Those of you who were cyber-with-me during D's long hospitalization four years ago may or may not remember that I truthfully maintained that, other than being at the hospital, school, or working, I spent the entire two and a half months distracting myself with baseball, bad TV (especially VH1 and VH1 Classic), and reading about and discussing other people's sexual exploits on the interwebs.

Well, yesterday, after sobbing about the cat and digging out/being dug out of the snowstorm, and having been told by Led Zep Girl that our department was staying closed, in my grief and sadness I really couldn't concentrate on anything other than zoning out on the internet. One of the weightlifting forums that I always read has a huge number and variety of different boards, including one that is simply "misc". Misc is almost completely populated by 15 to 24 year old males at their most obnoxious, sexist, and homophobic prime. If you took anything you read there as anything but a bunch of chimps posturing for each other, a.) your head would explode and b.) before it did, you would weep for the future of the entire English-speaking world. But if you keep in mind that it's really just a bunch of boys and men who haven't quite yet stopped being boys dick-measuring and showing off for each other, it can be amusing at times. Yesterday? In my inability to cope with anything else, I ended up on misc.

And thus I came across a "dat ass" thread, consisting of post after post after post of pictures of women with magnificent booties clad only in thongs or other brief undergarments. (If I didn't know Mr Indemnity is on vacation, I'd have sent him the link, 'cause that's the kind of friend I am.) I was fairly mesmerized because this was certainly the largest collection of female gluteal perfection I had ever seen. After some time perusing it, I also became aware that I was, uh, aroused. Now this was extremely surprising for two reasons. First of all, as you are all aware, I am the most heterosexual woman in North America. I enjoy looking at pretty women on an aesthetic level, but it doesn't make anything happen in my pants, yo. And, secondly, I am not generally visually aroused anyway. I read pron, not look at it.

I was musing over this and I remembered what I referenced above, how when D was in the hospital, one of the few things that diverted me was reading about other people talking about sex. And then I thought about how the summer after my mother's death, I distracted myself with what was, for me, unusually casual sex. It all came together into this stunning (haha) insight: grief makes me horny. In fact, the day of my dad's funeral? Oh, yeah.

I have no idea what this says about me, but it's probably nothing good. And nothing that years and years of expensive therapy couldn't cure, I'm sure. Maybe I'll get right on that.

xoxo