Until I find me some horses this weekend, I am without a direct conduit to the Great Spirit or a support network, I'm going a little mad over here on Milwaukee Street. To tide me over, I've enlisted the heathen's oasis, Craigslist.
Mock if you must but when is the last time you prayed for anything and actually got results? Meanwhile, the temple of CL rarely disappoints. Even now, I sit here waiting for some guy named John to pick me up and take me to the Ogden (formerly Denver's leading vaudeville house) to see Hank Williams III and The Murder Junkies. Don't know a heap about Hank III except that I liked his grandfather and he's not playing in my living room. The name of the game is distraction, folks.
I spent the better part of this afternoon IM'ing with a playful Dane in town for a convention. He warned me he was going to send a nude photo, which he did - of his feet! This is the sort of harmless stuff a girl can live on from hour to hour until she can get her head together and every so gently, pull it out of her ass.
Last week, I was the dinner guest of a mountain photographer residing in Littleton. He lived alone but the place was huge. Each room was designated for a different hobby, "And this is for gaming - notice the console? This one is for sewing, that's right - I sew." Very interesting stuff. Mind you, nothing to set my heart or loins aflame but they are both in the doghouse right now anyway and not allowed to come out and play until fall. (Okay, maybe just the heart is grounded.)
Brick by brick, I am exploring my new community, one hopeful ad at a time. As my father, who has never touched a computer nor seen the internet commented to me the other evening, "Boy, that online thing is really handy, isn't it?"