The Zaftig Chronicles

We argued. It ended with me storming out of his apartment, carrying the latest issue of Marie Claire, a greasy bag of croissants and orange juice. We'd spent the night together, engaging in satisfying sex, discussing my latest obsession -- Brokeback Mountain -- and figuring out if we should stay in bed all day today. Well, this morning he happily went out to pick up my Sunday essentials, but when he came back he looked upset. "Here," he said, thrusting the bag of croissants into my hand. He then walked to his kitchen, angrily grabbed a glass from the cabinet and slammed it on the table. "What kind of person are you?" he asked. Umm.,.what the hell? I sat up (I was lounged out on his couch, bare legs outstretched, admiring my pedicure when he'd returned). "Okay, what did I miss?" "A lot. I'm tired of this." I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was feeling very frightened to the point I pulled my legs up to my chest and morphed into a p...

Okay, I just read an e-mail from a reader, and it reminded me of the baked broccoli recipe I posted. I went to check it out to verify I got the recipe correct, and realized the post is gone! I don't remember deleting it. However, I can't remember what else I wrote in the post. Does anyone remember this post? I KNOW I wrote it. Comments are on for the day, for your convenience in respodning to this post.

I could barely enjoy my VD dinner and subsequent post-dinner sex because I was getting old. I was aging before Steven'seyes. My youth tossed out with the refuse or un-eaten salmon roe. A few days ago, my last wisdom tooth (upper right side) began its process of aging me and burrowed its way through my tender gum. My lymps node swelled and a light fever came on. It went away, but yesterday as the tooth burrowed out further, those symptoms returned. So there I was, munching on Philadelphia Maki and fucking teething. "Your teeth came in late," Steven said. "It means you're officially wiser." My mother asked me at 13-years-old if I wanted to have the teeth removed, and I said NO! People, listen to your mothers. Not only are the teeth painful when they burrow out, but during this process it reminds you of how wise (old) you are getting. Fuck wisdom.

If you're into one of the most commercialized days ever, of course. Me, on the other hand, I have nothing against chocolates, champagne, and flowers. And dinner. Steven has finally convinced me to leave my house for more than work and buying orange juice. So we're going out for sushi (he hates falafels. Fucked, I know.) I left work early just to come home and get ready. I'm currently in shockwave mode. I'm sure every woman has been in this mode before a date -- it when you know you're going to have good sex, and every five seeconds a sexual shockwave surges through you. Well, I've got it bad! That's the good part about being a woman, we can be turned on and no one be wise to it. We don't have a tent in our skirts. Although many men claim to be able to smell a woman's arousal. I don't doubt it. So I'm off to my shower. And yes, the Azzura is coming out.

So now that many of you know I am alive, I think it's time I explain to you that I almost wasn't. In mid January, I went through an extremely tough period. I lost my job, my sister showed up to my door at 2 am, screaming hysterically that she cant do it anymore, I was avoiding Steven on a daily basis, because I was scared of the way I was craving him. it was bad. But just as things spiral downward, they climb upwards. And the only thing I regret about the tough spot is that I didn't turn to the blog to vent (because I really needed it). But now things are peachy-keen, and I have learned a very important lesson about life. -- things won't always be bad (or good), and there will be light again. I sat in the dark for a day, just being numb, wondering why. Then the numbness turned into a tickle, and then I remembered I was alive, I have friends, money in the bank, experience. It's hard to be numb when reality makes you know it. My job fired me after I confronted a m...