Sex Daydreams

Does your mind wander during sex?  I do not mean noticing that the ceiling maybe needs painting.  I mean do you sometimes think about  a former lover?  It is not really a question I can ask my girlfriends.  And I suspect they would not be all that truthful - there are the things you admit to others and there are things you admit only to yourself.  I don't know, maybe I am just overthinking again.  My mind wanders, that I know.  Not all the time, not even most of the time, just sometimes.  It's hard to say when exactly it occurs.  I guess when I am not as into the moment as my lover  or, if I was to really be honest here, sometimes when he is trying to please me orally (and I drift to past encounters to maybe enhance the moment as well).

When my mind wanders (daydreams), a moment I find myself remembering a lot is of a time w Wide Load. 

 

I had gone to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  He was out onto the balcony drinking beer.  I was bent over the sink brushing my teeth when I saw him looking at me from the doorway.  I often keep the bathroom door open, but generally no one is watching me from the hallway.  He lowered his pants a bit for me to understand. 

 

I really do need to learn NOT to be a smart-ass.

 

I kept on brushing my teeth, but stuck my ass out and spread my legs for him.  Now, I really was just joking.  I mean give a girl a chance to finish brushing her teeth.  But, to his defense, I guess I did give him the go-ahead.  A moment later, he was standing behind me, knocking at my entrance.  Geez, I was still brushing my teeth!

 

Okay, I can sound like I'm protesting.  Truth is, I was incredibly turned on.  Thus the reason I wander to that moment (among others).  I loved it that he needed me so badly right then.  I loved being made (even if I did give him the go ahead) to take care of him.  I loved him being forceful.  Weird it may be, but I loved it and I still think about that moment a lot.

And maybe I am the only one, but I do remember it, and other special moments, sometimes when I am making love. 


 

 



Therapy Sucks

Therapy sucks!

 

No, Therapist was great as he always is.  I just did not enjoy the direction the discussion took.

 

Therapist was asking recently how I got engaged.  There were emails asking me to finish w more details of the Boyfriend's birthday trip.  But the Therapist was also asking - not about the gift (sex) - about how my engagement came about.  It turned into an unpleasant conversation.

 

The trip, I thought, went pretty well overall.  Since I started writing this blog, I have recieved dozens of emails telling me what a wonderful person the Boyfriend is and what a terrible person I am.  Opinions I tend to agree with.  It sucks to believe that secretly.  It was just painful to admit it out loud to the Therapist.  Not missing a beat, he point out that it should have gone pretty well since I was the one putting in almost all the effort. He added that is why it did not suprise him at all that I was the one who proposed. And apparently this is the reason he pushed me to tell the story.

 

Therapist did not stop there.  He started asking about many of my relationships.  I would describe a boyfriend.  He would get me to just talking - pleased that we on a different subject - then he barrages me w how I was the one doing w almost every boyfriend all the relationship work.  Not done, he brought up Mom.  I tried to argue w him.  It was hard. A lot, not all, of my best times w Mom were when I arranged everything. 

 

Therapist said something that stuck w me.  He said that every family has fun at Disney World.  Disney designed it that way.  Disney does all the work.   



The Boyfriends Birthday Presents IV

Two Corona's and a shot of tequila (always a must whenever I drink Corona) meant I was feeling pretty loose during dinner. I delighted in slutting it up for him (see the picture he took of me). I'm pretty sure our waiter enjoyed it too because he was most attentive. I slipped a heel off and ran my foot along the Boyfriend's leg. A few times, I even felt up his crotch with my toes. He surprised me when he grabbed my foot and wouldn't let go. He started tickling me - I am crazy ticklish - till I begged him to stop. We had a nice time. And maybe that is why he was rock solid again by the time we were leaving the restaurant. Driving back to the hotel, I started to tease him with a little road head, but mostly I just kept him nice and warm between my lips. I think he drove around the block a few times to make the trip longer. I took that as a compliment. Once in the room, Boyfriend led me out to the balcony. He knows how much I love balcony sex overlooking the ocean. He lifted my skirt up and slid inside of me once again, just like I was made for him. Keeping my heels on maybe added to the visual, but it also kept me at the right height for him. And I will admit it, I let him do all the work this time. I just stood there, leaning over the rail, enjoying the Boyfriend inside of me, feeling the night ocean breeze on my face and in my hair, listening to the roar of the ocean waves, and delighting in the star filled night sky,

 

When the Boyfriend finished inside of me, I simply had to go for a walk on the beach. I know he just wanted to sit down (the poor dear had been hammering me for a long time), but I pouted till he agreed to come with me. Mostly, we just walked. It was late and the beach was deserted. Also, it was turtle season, which means there is a lights out ordinance all along the beach. Basically, when there is no moon, it is pitch black out there and no one can really see you until they are right on top of you. Several times we stopped and watched the ocean. He'd stand behind me with his arms wrapped around me, and often he would kiss me along my neck. It may have been the happiest and most relaxed I had felt in a long long time. A few times, he gently cupped my breasts while he nuzzled my neck. He slipped a hand beneath my blouse, then under my bra. His hand felt good on my breast, holding me, squeezing me. Then he slipped his other hand beneath my bra and now both breasts were his. In time, he slid one hand down under my skirt. He caressed the outside of my warmth, and even there he could tell, he had me dripping wet. He dipped a finger into my moisture, then brought it up to taste. He did it again and brought it up for me to taste. I delighted in sucking my juices from his finger. I loved pleasing him and I knew he loved this. He repeated his actions, always keeping his hand just a bit longer each time under my skirt. Finally, he kept his hand there, moving it just right, while he continued to kiss my neck, and he held my breast in his hand. I felt like my body was his captive. It was perfect. And when I came, I did something I rarely do, I came again and again.

  

I turn around and kiss him. Then I go down to my knees. Work like that should be rewarded, right!!!! He joked asking if I getting ready to propose (I mention this because I think it had a lot to do with what followed later).  I joked back "I could, but I was thinking you might enjoy me sucking your dick more". In hindsight, I am not sure what the Hell I was thinking, or if I was even thinking. I felt good. I wanted him to feel good. He hardened in my mouth, but I realized it was going to be a while before he could cum again. Still, I kept on because I really believe he enjoyed me giving him head there on the beach.

 

Walking back to the room, still on the beach, I asked him how he wanted to finish inside of me. I offered to keep sucking him if that's what he wanted, but I was afraid his stamina this time would exceed my oral endurance. The way he kind of laughed makes me think he wanted me to keep giving him head, but instead he said that he understood I was tired and he did not want to hurt me. I joked that sometimes I liked his hurting me. I kept on that it was his birthday and he was not going to bed with an erection. He laughed saying that was what he loved about me (yep, he said the "love" word). He loved that I was always there for him . . . and added that he did not just mean sexually. I said the same about him; also adding that this trip was as much a thank you for how considerate he had been with my parents craziness as it was his birthday.  It is hard to explain, almost a full year later, exactly what I was feeling in that moment.   It had been an incredible day.  The beach, the alcohol, the sex, all had lowered my normal defenses and inhibitions.  And so I said it, "why don't we get married".  Yes, I was the one who proposed.

 

The remainder of the night had me on my back, legs over the Boyfriend's shoulders, and him fucking away in me until what must have been dawn. I was a very tired engaged girl when I finally rolled over to sleep.

The Boyfriend's Birthday Presents III

Tonight, responding to past requests, I will try to detail the remainder of the Boyfriend's Birthday Trip, taking it from his birthday blowjob to where we became engaged.

 

So, curled up naked next to him, the taste of his cum still in my mouth, I lay with my head resting on his chest. This was the part of the trip I dreaded the most. The Boyfriend was famous for going weeks without wanting to have sex with me. The perfect way to make a girl feel wanted - NOT. Now that the Boyfriend had came, I could easily imagine him going the rest of his 'sexcape' without touching me again. I had shared my fears with my friend Randi when the Boyfriend first starting asking about a trip. She gave the usual responses, everything from taking lots of lingerie to dressing slutty, but all essentially placing the responsibility on me to always initiate. I just did not want to spend the entire weekend begging the Boyfriend, "play with me". A few days later, Randi came into my office wearing a wicked grin. She then set two little blue pills (Viagra) on my desk, "that should take care of at least two nights of fun". Randi and mine's original plan had been to give the Boyfriend his extra gift over dinner. I don't know why I wanted to do it then instead; maybe laying there naked with the taste of his cum still in my mouth, I felt more intimate.

 

Jumping up, I grabbed all his gifts. I got him a watch and a protective case he had been wanting for his phone. Getting back onto the bed, sitting on my knees and ankles, I handed him his gifts. I set the smallest box to the side, making sure it would be opened last.

 

It was only then that something occurred to me for the very first time - he might get not take this the way I meant it. Maybe everyone else thought that a long time ago, but it had only just occurred to me. And I nearly ripped the box away from him, but it was too late, he had it opened. Fortunately for me, the Boyfriend appreciates my humor. "I'm going to need water" was all he said. And he was smiling. Whew!

 

We decided to go to dinner. I took a shower and put my face back on. He was still in bed channel surfing with the remote. We were talking about nothing much, okay, I was talking about nothing much and he was saying "uh huh" a lot. Basically, it was a normal conversation. I was trying to slut it up for him, so I put on a pair of heels, tight low cut blouse, and a way too short denim skirt. Finished, I asked him how I looked. Of course, he still had not yet moved. And then I noticed - he had a rock solid hard on.

 

"Aw, want me to help take care of that", I said giving him a kiss.  I lifted up my skirt, straddled him (I was already not wearing panties), and slid him home. I always love that first moment when my lover slips fully inside of me. I remember our taking it slow that time. We talked about nothing much in particular. I love this sometimes as well, when my lover is buried deep inside of me and we're just having a normal conversation. Now that I think about it, remembering that I was talking so much while getting dressed, it may have been part of the relaxed mood I was in too. As his moment approached, the conversation became more one sided w me telling him how much I want him to finish inside of me, that I want to go to dinner w his cum still in me, that I won't wear any panties because I want him to drip out of me while we sit in the booth. All in all, the trip was off to a great start, I thought.

 
I am sorry.  I thought I would finish it.  Well, I did finish it, but it's way too long for one post.  I did not mean to ramble on in some places and I actually did skip a lot, but there is nothing I really want to cut out.  Not just yet, maybe later, I will shorten them down into one post.   

Mental Head Slap

Watching Monday Night Football, I wrote the conclusion to the Boyfriend's birthday trip.  Then, tragedy struck.  All my work disappeared.  WTF?!?!  "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO".  And, of course, I had not saved it once.  Everything gone.  This is me banging my head on the desk.  Stupid stupid me.  How many times have I had that happen and sworn that I would save more often in the future.  Ugh.  I will try to re-create it soon.  I am going to bed now.

Mom, Harley, and Me

Mom loved the Boyfriend.

 

She hated Harley.

 

Okay, maybe I am exaggerating - but probably not by much. I guess it is fair to say she strongly disliked him. Why? You tell me because I never did understand.  Harley was that guy that everyone seemed to know and everyone just liked.  I have actually never met anyone who disliked hiim.  He is a deputy and I have actually seen people he has arrested come up to shake his hand and apoligize for being a jerk at the time.  Harley, being the kind of man he was, accepted her attitude in stride.  It hurt his feelings.  He just never let it be a problem for us.  He came with me often whenever I went to visit.  He remained polite and always tried to talk to both Mom and Daddy. Daddy, I think because I never asked, seemed to like Harley a lot. Mom clearly didn't.

 

The day Harley broke it off with me was, until the day Mom died, the single worst day of my life.  I hurt like hell.  Mom was not all that helpful because she was too busy being happy.  I don't know that I ever stopped being angry at her for that.  

Dinner and a Blowjob

I went to the Boyfriend's for dinner tonight.  Nothing happened.

 

Hmm, I should probably explain a few things first. I have already said, albeit briefly, that the Boyfriend and I do not live together now. What happened? During the Boyfriend's much belated birthday trip, which I had started posting about before I pulled a disappearing act, we got engaged. I promise to return to "The Boyfriend's Birthday Presents" saga to explain it all. It was nice being engaged. Mom liked the Boyfriend. To be honest, it seems like marrying the Boyfriend was one of the very few things in my life about which she never said a negative word. She was enjoying planning the wedding with me even. Looking back, it was maybe our closest mother-daughter experience. She called every day with some new idea she wanted to run past me for the wedding. It was fun planning with her. The day we buried her was supposed to be the day she and I went looking at wedding dresses. Planning for the wedding just stopped for me.  I became increasingly despondent. In time, it reached the point where I just struggled to get through each day. I had no energy.  I looked forward to going back to bed to hide from the world. It was sometime long after this I moved out of the Boyfriends and back in with Daddy. I told both of them I just needed some space for now. The wedding is cancelled, though I am not sure if we are still engaged or not. It's all very confusing. I made love to him the night I moved out. I go over for dinner two to three times a week. And we still sleep together. If I thought our relationship was confusing before, it is even more confusing now. 

 

 

It feels like nothing ever does happen unless I initiate. I say that and then the Boyfriend surprises me. The morning I all but raped the Boyfriend, I went back over that night for dinner. It was pleasant. It was also awkward. I think awkward because the Boyfriend so seldom initiates that he is really not very good at it. It could also be that he does not initiate more because he is so bad at it. He even looks uncomfortable. And realize that he is this bad with me - a guaranteed "yes" for him. It had been a long day. I was looking forward to just going home. And the Boyfriend was awkwardly uncomfortably struggling to initiate.

 

I thought about pretending not to notice his horribly thrown passes. But I felt bad about doing that too. The Boyfriend deserves a better girlfriend. He took the dishes from the table to the kitchen. Yes ladies, he does the cooking and he cleans up afterwards!!! In the kitchen, he tried to keep the conversation light and flirty. It was not that I was unwilling to have sex with him. It was that I did not want to be there late. Certainly if I still lived there, then I would have gladly laid back on the bed naked and waited for him. Staying there late was not what I wanted. I followed him into the kitchen. He did not catch the hint to kiss me, so I pulled his arms around me instead. I teased how sexy he looked in the kitchen. We kissed a bit more. I suspected he was starting to think about how to move things into the bedroom. (This is the part I feel bad about). When he started to walk, while still hugging me, towards the bedroom, I stopped him. I teased again that I wanted to repay him for dinner and being the best Boyfriend ever. I could see his confusion since we were not walking towards the bedroom. Kissing him again, keeping my eyes locked onto his, I lowered myself to my knees. I think he was getting the idea of what to expect. He actually started to protest. He wanted me to feel good too. How sweet! I smiled telling him that I did feel good taking care of him and that this is exactly what I wanted. At that point, I took his freed dick into my hand and guided him into my mouth. This was not intended to be a slow gentle blowjob. I begin bobbing and sucking hard immediately. When he was rock hard in my mouth, I took his hands and placed them onto my head, then guided his hips to start thrusting into my mouth. The way he gripped my hair and head, I could not really see his face any longer. I had no intention of stopping him, so I went with it. I could hear him and he definitely seemed to be enjoying himself. I have noticed that sometimes humming just a little bit drives some men crazy when I am blowing them. The Boyfriend certainly appreciated the humming. Sometimes he would just thrust deep between my lips, then hold me there tight. I think he was trying to catch his breath more than anything else.  With a little encouragement from me, he would resume face fucking me. I did need to see his face at least once more and stopped him long enough for me to connect my eyes with his. I kept his dick in my mouth the entire time. I tried to smile with him still between my lips. I think he noticed. He looked so very happy.  I resumed bobbing and soon he resumed thrusting. Before too long, I was rewarded with a salty taste of pre-cum. Time to get even more ferocious with the face fuck. I could tell my his noises that I should be expecting a mouthful soon. I was not surprised when the first of several bursts exploded into my mouth. I swallowed quickly to avoid drops on my blouse. When he was done cumming, he held my head still tight with him deep inside of my smile. And I was smiling too. I let him hold me there for a bit while I cleaned him with my tongue. When he let go of my head, I kept him deep in my mouth just a bit longer to let him know I enjoyed this.  We kissed then and I went home.

I genuinely enjoyed making the Boyfriend feel good. I do care about him even if he does drive me crazy most days and even if I do not want to live with him right now.  But I have wondered some if giving him a blowjob was the right thing to do. I don't know.  I think sometimes I think too much.  

 



I Woke Up Horny!!!

I woke up feeling incredibly and undeniably horny.

 

 

It has been so long since I felt horny that I nearly did not recognize it for what it was. I can see me now, "Doctor, something is wrong". "What are your symptoms Rache". "My face is flushed, I am wet between my legs, and I have these strange feelings". I can imagine his face as he says, "umm, Rachel, that's what we doctors call feeling horny".  Now, saying that I have not felt any urges in a long time is not saying I have not had sex or that I have not wanted to have sex. I have taken good care of my boys and I look forward most times to taking care of them. When I went off with Harley, I was excited to be with him and I genuinely looked forward to giving him pleasure. But wanting to make someone else feel good is a far cry from needing to be filled yourself.  I lay there enjoying the feeling as much as anything. I had woken up horny!

 

I texted Harley. No response.

 

I lay there for a bit, then sucked it up and got started getting ready for the day. I thought about the Boyfriend (we do not currently live together), but tried to be sensible. The morning was getting late, I needed to be at work, he would probably be too busy and tell me to come over later . . . all rational thoughts . . . and I pondered each one as I walked back to the bedroom to get my phone. Still thinking how incredibly stupid it was to call the Boyfriend - he is just going to say "not now Rachel" - I proceeded to call the Boyfriend.

 

A sleepy voice grunts, "g'morning".

 

"Are you still in bed?" I took his grunt to mean "yes". "Good," I said to him, "stay there, I will be there in a few".

 

Hurriedly, I grabbed an outfit, slipped a robe over the t-shirt I was wearing, then raced out the door.  I let myself in and left everything by the door.  Slipping out of the robe, t-shirt, and panties, I ran into the bedroom naked, wet, and ready to fuck. Boyfriend  never had it so good.

 

I am tempted to stop at this point, but also know that the more voyueristic men in the group will be immediately emailing me  for more details. :) 

 

A moment later, I was astride the Boyfriend  . . . even better, he was inside of me.  It was like the whole morning had been about just feeling him inside of me. Now that he was in me, I just wanted to enoy it for a while. I leaned forward and kissed him for a while. Still kissing, I began to move on top of him, slipping along his length. I began to feel a tingling sensation between my legs.  I had not anticipated for a moment that I might also climax this morning. I was content merely to enjoy the feeling of him inside of me. I began to move faster and just grind into him. And then I came. I love to cum first. I know, I know, it is romantic to cum at the same time. I love to cum first because, I don't know, I guess because I want my lover in me and on me all the more after I cum. After I came, I rolled for the Boyfriend to get on top of me. I love having my lover on me. I wrapped my legs around the Boyfrend and enjoyed the sensation of him thoroughly enjoying himself in me.



Mom

I wrote this post several weeks ago. 

----------------------------------------------

Mom died.

 

She died last year, August 24th to be exact. And I suppose it was probably one of the main reasons I stopped posting. I did not post about it then because . . . well . . . I do not really know. I guess I simply did not want it a part of my blog. I did not want to talk about it. To tell you the truth, I really still do not want to talk about it. 

 

I was at the office. I was on another call when Randi, our receptionist, came into my office. She said I had another call. She said it sounded urgent. She said it was Daddy. She said he was crying. He always gets up first. When Mom was way past her usual time of getting up, he went to check on her. She had died in her sleep.

 

When the dust finally settled, I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was getting back to a normal life. I thought I was moving on. I thought wrong. At first, I was focused upon Daddy and how he was doing. I guess that was my way of ignoring how badly I was doing.

 

It is not like Mom and I were particularly close. Honestly, most days I thought - and still think - that I was a colossal disappointment to her. No matter what I accomplished, she always found a way to tell me I could have done better. She found fault with all my boyfriends, except for The Boyfriend - him she liked. In some ways, I guess they were a lot alike. Therapist suggested that to me. Guess that explains why I sometimes wanted to strangle her and other times wanted to curl up beside her. In short, we were not close.

 

But life just really began to unravel after she died.

Encore

I thought I would write about Harley and mine's texts yesterday. Tonight, looking back at them, I think they kind of tell the story themselves:

 

Harley: "Help . . . officer needs assistance"

Rachel: "What's wrong".

H: I'm blue w agony"

R: "So this isn't a 'man down' type situation?"

H: "No, it's more of a 'man up' problem"

R: "What can I do for my man?"

H: "I can't stop thinking about what you did for me Saturday . . . will you do that again"

R: "Sweetie, you have to  be more specific.  I did a lot of things for you Saturday night."

H: "You love torturing me, don't you -  the blowjob".

R: "Oh that . . . you liked that . . . I could not tell".

H: "You couldn't tell? You are so gonna get a spanking".

R: "Promises, promises"  There was a bit of a long break here in my saying anything more.

H: "Help . . . officer still in distress".

R: "I'm sorry Sweetie, I got stuck on a phone call, you can spank me for that later too. Of course, I will help my man with his problem".

A few hours later, I was back on my knees taking care of Harley.

Harley

It had been a long week and I went out Saturday morning to relax by doing one of life's greatest pleasures - shopping. I was headed back to the car after a semi-successful shoe hunt. A harley drove past and I would have paid no attention to it, except that it then sped up and quickly circled back around the parking lot. At the risk of sounding conceited, this is not the first time a vehicle has circled around me and done another drive by. I was cautious but not concerned.  Putting the bags into my trunk, my heart stopped when the harley slowed to a crawl behind me. Anxiety quickly became something else when I saw that on the harley was Harley. He looked great. He always looks great though. He was separated again. I think I sounded sincere when I said I was sorry. I know I tried really hard not to smile. I am not sure how long we stood there talking. I did not want it to end.

 

He asked if he could buy me lunch. More acting was required for me to say "yes" without sounding too excited. The next thing I know is I am climbing on the back of his bike. It's been a long time since me and the girls have been someones backrest. Harley took us into the country to a rustic cafe in the woods. He acted like we had been hanging out just the day before. Harley was like that though. And somehow, he had a way of making people so instantly comfortable that they behaved the exact same way.  Lunch was fantastic, but truth be told, the only thing I remember was my face hurting from laughing too much. I felt better than I had felt in months.

 

The rest of Saturday included more riding, a whole lot of verbal foreplay, some passionate kissing, and concluded with a nice hotel. I was wearing khaki Capri's and I am positive everyone could see a wet spot on them I was so dripping wet. Making me wet all the more was a little fantasy I had been imagining since we had started our verbal dance Saturday. I had been the passenger all day. I wanted to drive this engine for a bit. I wanted to give Harley head. In all the time we lived together, in all the things we had done together, I given him blowjobs, but I had never finished him with my mouth. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to do it for him.

I knew Harley well enough to know that once we got into the room, that it was on! So, as soon as he opened the door, I put a hand to his chest and pushed him back. As sultry as I could manage (hoping it did not sound stupid), I told him to go inside, sit down, that I was taking over for a little bit, and that the only thing I wanted to hear from him was a "thank you" afterwards. I led him to the side of the bed to sit down. I then stripped naked. I undid his pants and pulled them down around his ankles, leaving his boots on. I wanted clothing to slow him down in case he started trying to change things up. However, I wanted to be naked because I wanted to feel submissive. I may have been running the show, but I like feeling submissive when I am on my knees.  And I thought Harley would enjoy seeing me naked on my knees for him.  He was already hard when I bent to my knees to take him into my mouth. I alternated between holding him deep between my lips to bobbing my head steadily upon his length. When I thought he might be nearing the limits of his endurance, then I pulled him to his feet. I placed his hands on my head and silently encouraged him to start thrusting into my face. In time, I was rewarded with a mouthful of warmth as Harley's cum gushed into me. I looked into his eyes as I swallowed my prize, but the look on his face was my real reward. 

Harley spent the rest of the night showing me just how much pleasure he could give me and how much pleasure he could extract from my body.    

Who Would You Invite To Dinner?

An alternative title to this post could be "Rachel Is Being Evasive". I had intended to write a little bit about  life's little, and not so little, happenings which led to my self-imposed exile. I say "intended" because when it came time to actually write something, then I just sat and stared at the computer screen. And the longer I stared, the more frustrated I became with myself. And the more frustrated I became with myself, the more the tonight's blog became torture and the less it was about having fun.  I am sure Therapist will have something to say about this when we talk again.  That is the funny thing about him.  I think I am being evasive (maybe not actually intending to be evasive, but just not really being as painfully open as he is planning) by digressing into some story that seems completely meaningless.  However, Therapist always finds a way to take the most insignificant  story and turn it into a life lesson.  And since lately, those lessons are almost always painful, I am not especially pleased with Therapist's secret power.

 

I tried thinking about something from my distant past that I might like to write about.  I think maybe I have internalized Therapist to some degree though - every distant memory seemed to touch on the present and I just did not want to go there tonight.

 

I guess this is the lesson for tonight - Therapist is getting into my head!!!   He would tell me to just relax and talk about whatever feels right to me.

 

I saw a list of questions in some magazine. I did not feel like answering an entire list tonight, but one question did get me to thinking (thinking about something that was not stressful tonight):

 

Who would I invite to dinner if I could invite anyone in the world, real or fictional, living or dead (I added a clause to this question - let's assume no family members).  I thought I might debate this all night in my head instead of counting sheep tonight when I try - and fail - to sleep.  But my answer comes to me quick .  Tyler Durden.  One, he is the most  interesting fictional characters ever. Two, hello, have you seen what Brad Pitt looked like in that movie.  Tyler Durden for the mind.  Brad Pitt for the body.