The Weekend Starts Here
2004-11-12, 9:44 a.m.

I'm afraid I alarmed some people in my last entry, based on the worried emails, saying that I didn't talk to many people most days. I think I gave the impression that I am sitting in the corner, pulling my hair out one strand at a time while humming "Nothing Compares to You." That's what you call an ex-AGer-ray-shon. Side note: I sooooooo enjoyed when Bush said that in the debates with Kerry because 1) It was a bold-faced lie and 7) he said it like he had just learned the word fifteen minutes earlier in the briefing with his puppetmasters. It was HIGHLY amusing to me--A+ for effort and delivery, Georgie. I use it pretty frequent now so when Matt'll say something like, "I'm starving to death!" I'll work to get the most dim-witted look on my face and say, "That's what you call an ex-AGer-ray-shon" and it's still new and enjoyable for us. Wheeeeeee! So, anyway, I AM a pathetic creature, rest assured in your judgements, but not so pathetic that you have to worry or pity the fool, you know? Being that I don't work and haven't quite gotten into the swing down here in C-town, I haven't made many friends. I have several aquaintances, that on occassion, I can spend a Saturady afternoon with, but nobody I have fell mind over heels with and crowned them "Friend of Trees, Small Animals, and Michele"--that is to say, no one who is my breed. Yet, anyway. But s'awl good. I have my beloved, and my phone-y (not phony) friends, and my pup, and Jesus is all right with me. Matt and I have always been abnormally close anyway, but it's truly because there is no one I more enjoy spending time with. Unhealthy? We don't mind.

So, what else? Hey! Two entries in a row? Wait, I guess they're all in a row, right? But an entry on two consecutive days? Yup. I'm on top of my shit! Keeping promises, doing laundry, eating bananas--ain't no stopping me now. The last time that happened was 9.24--2003! OK, don't get excited, I can't handle the pressure. Jesus Christ, leave me alone, I'm doing the best I can! *taking anxiety medication*

So, Friday is my flavorite day. "Why, you whore, when you don't work?" you might say. Well, thanks for asking! Friday is usually my favorite day because duh, it's the start of the weekend and that means Matt and I can play. But it's really, really, REALLY become my favorite day in the last month. Because on my anniversary, Matt gave me as a gift a professional massage table. And what's more is that he promised that he would give me a weekly massage! Now, understand, I was THRILLED with the gift because my neck and back suffer, like a daisy in winter, but in all truth, I thought the odds of Matt actually giving me a weekly massage were even with Hillary/Obama, a woman and a black man, winning in 2008. That is to say, somewhat unlikely? I mean, Matty has the best of intentions, I know, but this is the man that "gave" me Cats tickets for our anniversary twice and one Valentine's Day two years in a row. Haaaviously, I never saw Cats, and then the bitch closed down, so he lost that pretend gift for future "I'm gonna do this" gifts. And I have been asking for neck and/or back massages for the last two years with a paltry result--maybe five/ten minutes of fingers sort of moving up and down; then pausing as he gets engrossed in whatever he's watching on TV; then me saying "Hello?" and then thumbs digging rigourously for two minutes, followed by a pat on the back and a "There you go." So, you can understand why when the table was set up in our spare bedroom, I gave it a little kiss and wondered when I'd see it again.

But. That Friday, Matt got home from work, changed out of his clothes, and said, "Massage Time!" That first massage, people? I got me some religion. It was an hour and twenty minutes long, and was my entire body with some yun-me aromatherapy massage oils rubbed deeply and throughly in. He had twinkly music playing, and I swear to Allah, it was better than my last four orgasms put together. Honestly, he's no professional, but he did such an amazing job, my legs were wobbly walking down the stairs afterward. The following week, to my amazement, he started what has become our Friday ritual for the last 4 weeks: he comes home with a pizza from my favorite place and a large bottle of wine. Before he even changes, he starts drawing a warm bath for us. We take a long luxurious soak together and drink one glass of wine and one large glass of ice-water and then we retire to the boudoir for glorious yum-yum. Following our romantic interlude, I get in the shower while Matt heats up my robe and towels in the dryer, picks out the massage music, and lights all the candles in our massage room. Then. Then, I get a gloriously drooling hour-massage. Afterwards, Matt jumps in the shower while I heat up the pizza, open the other bottle of wine and pick out different music. We eat the magnificence that is pizza, and then sit around and talk and relax. I never thought that there was anything better on a Friday night then getting stoned and watching funny movies, but boy-o, I was wrong.

Other than that? Golly, I dare not tell too much or I'll have nothing to say on Monday! But briefly, this weekend will entail shopping for a couch, going out to dinner with two other couples tmrw night, and then on Sunday, we were thinking about checking out our local Unitarian Universalists. I dunno about that one, just something we've been talking about lately so we'll see.

After that, we start working for the weekend once again.