Case of you

I'm listening to Joni again.

It's pouring rain out, its way past my bedtime, but I'm online, in a nearly tidy livingroom.
I'm online, because, I don't know why.
Not sober, not drunk, I've been out with Anna and friends of hers, and enjoyed the experience of feeling happy, strong, secure, and relaxed, in meeting people. Even danced some with the pretty sorry excuses for men we found ourselves among. I mean, they were allright, but no dancers. And if they were, they were too drunk for it.

I smell of Nefertiti, and I'm wearing my "get-lucky-blouse". Nefertiti is an Egyptian perfume. It's spicy and poignant, and sexy, and too much most of the time. The get-lucky-blouse has reputedly been lucky on two occasions, which isn't all that much, but I'm comfortable in it.

That is not the point of this blog.
Today I've worked on home improvement.
Tidying. I'm actually quite surprised I got something done, it seemed to me I was only procrastinating the whole day.

Not sober, not drunk. Not sober.

On Wednesday I picked up tickets for a concert tomorrow. I also got the general program for the season. No familiar name where it should have been, according to the pick-up-line (and the callouses on his hands).
I emailed him. After consulting a friend who said Yes Yes Yes;
"so, as I can see you're not there there's no need to bring the theatre binoculars to scout out the violin section then". He responded that he's in one opera and one ballet (reputedly, we all know how it is with him and truth, don't we). ps. Theatre binoculars are only useful when there's something to look at, isn't it.
And: Happy belated namesday. He noticed. Does that mean anything? And he replied, fast, what should I read into that?

He's got the most gorgeous eyes. I didn't say that though. How do you orchestrate a meeting?

Even if I read nothing into it, can anyone tell me, how do you go from terrific bar flirt to cozy one-night-stand and consequtive cameraderie, music and eggs and bacon to second date?
I'd like to know. Apparently, the emailing is functioning quite allright.

That was not the point again. I think the point to this post, if I can manage it without typos, was that music stores feeling. I got Blue post-T, and subsequently bought Court and spark. Playing them, I invoke the eerie feelings of homecoming and possibility and solitude and sexual power that were present, post-fuck. To be crude. It was more than that. I think, I've stopped going home with people for that end only, the fuck is secondary or an added bonus. I don't know. I don't know what I want to say here. Not sober, certainly.

But Joni, she talks to me, of realizations that are, or have matured, and of life.

More than anything, I feel full. Fulfilled, whole, a whole lot (bursting at the seams), who can be as much! and
blessed
with trust and friendships and insights


- and in this I've neglected to disclose one other aspect of the feelings that Joni calls upon, they are possibility and associated with

cognac

and I will go there,
again.