Craigslist to the rescue…. Monty Python trumpet blast.

It is with some satisfaction that I report that I have met a really cool guy from Craigslist.  He meets every single one of the criteria I set myself out to find (including that he’s into being less lonely, not more married).  Urbane, intelligent, musical, accomplished, well travelled and an excellent communicator. I’ve come up with a blog nickname for him, but in keeping with my “Learn to be more respectful of others, you great sow” vow, I’ll run it by him before I start using it.

And I got enough sleep, and the balance board I bought is doing great things for my back.

I’m swithering about going to Jericho.  I still feel like some kind of crud is holding over from the weekend, trying to find a part of me to land on so I’m not sure about the wisdom of yet another late night during the week.  In addition I have a project breathing heavily in my ear about its completion, due on Thanksgiving.

This will be the first homily I’ve written that I didn’t read aloud obsessively to Paul (or Dr. Filk) for the week prior to the service, and I find that I’m missing that. You just never know what you’re going to miss when you bail on 25 years of marriage.  Many of the things I thought would hurt, haven’t, and vice versa.  It floors me, and stuns my mother, that I miss cooking.  mOm would probably say, And I miss Root Canal! And I miss Income Tax!  And I miss Halitosis! and I miss WWII!

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Allegra

Born 1958. Not dead yet.

8 thoughts on “Craigslist to the rescue…. Monty Python trumpet blast.”

  1. I don’t mean to hog the comments section, but good for you. You should post the things you want to see change more often. So far, your back is doing better, your request for more sex/partner has come through, you’ve felt enlightened after walking the Labyrith, … I was wondering did Paul ever have trouble keeping up to you, Speedy?

  2. Oh Loki, you always make me laugh!! I imagine you have the members of your household (past and present) in hysterics and tears streaming down their faces!!

  3. There is NO WAY I could say with a straight face that Paul couldn’t keep up with me. It would be a gross and damnable lie.

    However, it would be entirely appropriate to say that we were not using the same chart supplement, filing the same flight plan, or following the same emergency landing procedures.

    And yes, Loki was the funniest man I ever met until my son started to talk. I have two memories of him which still convulse me when I think of them. One of them is how he can make his mouth disappear into his beard (the effect is quite magically comical) and the other is how he elaborately and slowly shaved off his beard on the one occasion during my childhood when I recollect him doing it. When he got down to the Hitler mustache (which on a redhead is intrinsically goofulous) me, my brother and my mother were whooping with laughter.

    Soon after he grew it back and that’s how it stayed, as nautilus3 quite likes it that way. And shaving sux. If I was a boy, I’d have facial hair. And the way menopause is going, I’ll probably get it anyway.

  4. Fortunately for your continuing existence in this Vale of Tears, Debbie, Loki notes that I too laugh at his jokes.

    Speaking about missing things – and segueing seamlessly into surprising things – HOOPP posted to me today to ask for sweet little stories about retirement to be printed in the pensioners’ newsletter. I told them about the big surprise I had about retirement, and that was, the amount of toilet paper we went through at home after we retired. I don’t suppose they’ll print that.

  5. Every time I think you’re morphing into a sweet little old lady, you, uh, demonstrate that you aren’t. First you give the Hai-YA kick (my man, hands off) and then you flirt with vulgarity.

  6. This reminds me of how Jim and I play tennis. Our goal is not to win a game, but to see how long we can keep the ball in the air. Thanks for the compliment Loki. I see you too Nautilus3 have a fine sense of humour.

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