Philly Fog | Indilgences
There's fog in the city of brotherly love and its immediate environs tonight. I walked outside with Sadie on leash into a soup of near-London proportions. Okay, maybe not London but I certainly thought, "This is what New Orleans must be like in 'winter.' " Funny, but when I was down there in November one year I liked to have froze my bloody arse off, but that's another story.
So, the fog here might be a mere consomme compared to Europe, but it's
powerful just the same. This is a fog which captures the sound, muffles and alters it slightly, and holds it down near the earth's ear. You can hear it all...a dog bark from the other side of town, the planes taking off from the airport. The drip, drip, drip of the water that should be running down the downspout had it not released its grip on its moorings last week. The sound of a horn from the river or the Boeing plant. The far-off wail of a fire siren
Our steps were squishy and loud in the night, Sadie's and mine.
A couple arguing in the parking lot.
One couldn't help but strain the ears to catch the frequent "fuck"s from the young man and talk about "her" from the young woman. I took it to be a third party argument. At first I wanted the issue to be resolved but I reconsidered. I think I would prefer that the girl arguing with the man in the 
fog, who was possibly terribly in love with him and decidedly more worthy than the woman in the discussion, have her wish granted. I desire the young man to realize the error of his ways and kiss the young woman deeply and passionately. I wished for them to ride off, clippety-clop, into the fog on a white steed (hers).
Instead, another couple had joined the discussion by the time Sadie and I had made our loop and I believe I heard the sound of laughter. I'd had visions of the young man driving hellishly through the lot and ending up on a trauma stretcher at my old place of employ. Well, not quite visions but a suggestion that that possibility lie down one of the possible trajectories from the event. But that's Einsteinian and also for another post.
I've spent the day; the winter thus far, really; hibernating. I've been taking a little journey inside myself and finding out all sorts of yummy stuff but that, too, is for another post. Today, Saturday that is, I slept until almost 2, had an Angus bacon cheddar burger for my meal, nodded off to some of my favorite sounds in the stereo and watched what may have been 
one of the greatest football games I've ever seen take place, live, in New Orleans, Louisiana...the NFC playoff game between my Philadelphia Eagles and the New Orleans Saints. I bet you this one winds up on some best playoff games ever dvd, but that's yet another post.
I've still got my (Charlie Brown) Christmas tree and lights up and am enjoying one more night of their sweet, warm glow. They'll have to come down tomorrow, shortly after whatever time I wake up. It's 4AM and I still haven't gotten in the
tub...
I just now ate a very slightly stale white cream with chocolate icing doughnut washed down but ice cold milk in a frosted mug. I keep two mugs in the freezer, mostly for soda. Oh, and I also had the most delicious orgasm. Wow! It just doesn't get much better than this.
Now it's off to a candlelit bubble bath then off to bed in my silky cotton sheets. I've determined that what I want most right now for my body to be as soft and smooth from head to toe; nails filed, legs shaved, heels pumiced, hair slick; as possible. A variety of scents and lotions and textures then a blissful nights sleep.
Funny how sometimes you have to go into the fog to see clearly inside.
Yes, I've been holed up here, yes I've been cocooning, but isn't that what one has to do at certain stages of the game? Hell, I turn fifty in less than two months. If it was ever time for an epiphany...
So, I'm sorry I haven't been writing or even reading much. I'll be back around again in the near future, I believe. Hell, I've got at least three new post ideas in this one alone. If you know anything about me at all, you should have guessed that it's rather hard for me to shut up. I'm especially loud in the fog. I hope my grandboy is just like me!
I once said I'd like my grandson to tell me one day that I'm "cool," or whatever the corresponding terminology of the day is. I realized the other day is I want my grandson to say to me, "Grandma, you're not a grownup!"
I'll come back and fix the pictures and spell-check later. It's fucking four-thirty o'the clock and I needs me beauty sleep.
Until next time.
Labels: blogging, life, personal growth, senses, sex, therapy
posted by Cheryl @ 12:01 AM
feel like bitchin'? 6
