I spoke too soon. Me going without vodka, is akin to me not breathing. It doesn’t make since. Suffice it to say, I fell this weekend. Hard. Damn Wagon. Oh, and while we’re at it. I might as well make my other confession. I seen it coming a week or so ago, when we hung out, and I held out. All this weekend he continued to wear me down. I tried to be strong, I did. But, when he asked me to wear my “tall black boots” I knew I was doomed. He tried to pull out all the stops too, candles, full body massage, extra foreplay....Mr. H, Mr. H. Don’t ask me what we are doing. Even I don’t know at this point. It’s like a really good shoe sale, you know you need to walk away, but you can’t. You’re addicted to shoe shopping....sorry that’s the only metaphor that I could think of!
In Other News
I’m thinking about going to New Orleans. Brian and I texted and talked Friday, and he suggested it, since my birthday plans aren’t really going as planned. Small little secret. I’m scared as shit. I haven’t seen him since this summer, and well. We talk, but neither one of us have talked about THIS.