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Mda went out shopping. Poor guy's making his own b-day dinner.... I don't know what happened to my cooking sense. As soon as we moved in together, any desire I'd once had for cooking seemed to completely vanish. At least he really likes it.

Yesterday was his b-day, and I have to say that WI-C saved our collective butts. I came home from work at 6:20 with a wrung-out brain. Here it is, his birthday, and I have almost nothing to contribute to his day. Although, truth be told, he hadn't been specific on what he wanted to do last night. Maybe I should have bugged him some more. Anyway, mda was making pumpkin pie when I came home, then revealed that he'd received a call from WI-C, who is currently untethered from spouse and child (they're at jujupees' sister's place for the weekend). We went to the local bar and stayed 'til midnight. ALong the way, others came. Strange b/c I hadn't been to the Shed in a long time, but I had just happened to stop by the night before to hang out w/Tom G., Flinty Jim, and 2 others. One of whom WI-C calls the squirrel, and I did get caught in one of her squirrel conversations.

Basically, they go like this: she starts to get drunker and drunker, then you'll suddenly find yourself in a "conversation" with her for about 45 minutes in which you can't get a word in edgewise, and she just repeats herself over and over again. Mda does that too, sometimes (I hope not more often than I think). The next time this happens, and those two are at the same party, we should just put them in a room together so they can duke it out.

Anyway, had some good conversations, and it was good to see everyone (well, not everyone as I would define it, b/c that means a few more couples, but mroe than usual anyway), including the "old broad." SHe's been enjoying the underwear posts (more on that in a moment).

WI-C seemed in the mood to talk to me, but I didn't have much to contribute. I did try to make a statement on Ayn Rand's writing abilities, but he had walked away by that time (he thought I looked angry, or maybe disapproving, but I think I was just screwing up my courage). I don't have much background in Rand, except for Anthem as a kid and a stab at Fountainhead, but if Fountainhead is an example of her writing ability, I am not impressed. Anyway, that's just to give you an idea.

As everyone made their way out, WI-C, who had bought 2 shots of Jaegermeister for mda (and the bartender gave him a free pint, and there were... 3 pints on top of that), told me to go home and make sweet, sweet love w/my bf on his birthday. Believe me, mda was in no condition to make sweet sweet anything. He did manage to make it upstairs all right, and was asleep by the time I got there (no snoring, fortunately).

As for the underwear, the old broad also lamented the lack of brand-spankin' new undies in her life lately, or actually the presence of their complete opposite. Myself, I went and collected my underwear from the drying rack today, and officially threw out 9 bras, some originating from my bra story, written 6 years ago. I will miss some but there was no question they had to go. Holes and elastic were sticking out all over the place. I think because I had bought these with mda, to get rid of them did not have the same power as the discardment of bras at 30. So my conclusion that I would throw these new bras out in time w/out a thought came true, but not for reasons that I understood (of course, I also wondered in the essay if I would be married and have children by the time these wore out. Obviously that is not the case, but that has been a subject for other posts, as anyone who has read this long enough knows by now).

Then I made purchase of yet more boy shorts, based on mda walking up to me this morning and saying, "When are you going to wear those again?" "As soon as I hand wash them." Got to that task w/in 15 minutes, then ordered more. I'm a slave to the boyshort. Actually, I'm a slave to the idea that after 6 1/2 years, my bf would actually like any special underwear I have. It's hard. This is a guy who doesn't like to be told what is sexy, so I don't have a paradigm to work with, here. I could walk around naked but I'll get cold. So if these things work on a regular basis, shit, I'd throw away all of my other "sexy" things and buy a whole parcel full. Anyway, that's my thoughts on the boyshorts for this week.

I must help mda clean the house.
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