GOAT WARS...

There are many mysteries to my dance with the Goat, first among them that it was only because I saw a flyer from the Big City in my office... and decided to attend a Leather Night far enough away from home that, if it turned out to be a complete disaster, I would not have tarred myself with the wrong brush -- not that I had too many doubts on that score.

But it was certainly more than a Baby Step to add Leather Night to my schedule in the City... it introduced an element of caginess with old friends that made me fairly uncomfortable. And then there was the event itself... I had never told more than a handful of people what seemed hard-wired in me, and how I felt about it, so "opening up" in a circle of men who were all there for the same reason was a bit of a... Giant Step.

And then there was the moment when the Goat walked into the room.

There are any number of possible reasons why my heart skipped a beat or two: he seemed [to me] devilishly handsome, butch, bearish, and solid [just enough resemblance to my father to activate deep-buried circuits? just butch enough to look like rough trade? just hairy enough to set off the Bear Alarm? chest just big enough to bring out the Muscle Queen?]

All of the above?

The fact is that I still love just to sit and look at him...

What raises things beyond mystery to grace, however, is that he is stupid enough to find me attractive. I am normally attracted to extremely intelligent people, so this is a complete surprise to me. And I rather fear that it will be a rather complete surprise to my family, as well. Well, I guess we all need a dose of reality sooner or later [that's THEM]; some of us apparently need a good dose of fantasy in our reality [that's ME].

Since then, a lot of things have happened. But we have spent something like a grand total of seven or eight days together since Ash Wednesday, so making life choices based on this... experience... may not be the best thing. Telling your family that you are seriously considering pulling up stakes and moving almost 200 miles further away to be near "some guy" they've never met... is definitely stupid. But that's where I am.

The last time I was at my mother's house for lunch, we were actually discussing how useless it is to try to stop children, or anyone else for that matter, who are set on doing something stupid.

Little did I realize how soon it would all apply to ME!
Oh well...

Next, flying visit at his vacation spot is WAY less than 24 hours, but better than nothing. He has then promised to come back East for a REALLY long weekend, which sounds too good to be true. Good weather or not, we can spend it all doing what he does best... inside and out.
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