Sex & Baseball

Yes.

I said it.

The two most enjoyable topics between me and The Michigan Man.

Oh we talk about MANY other things too....

The oil spill, being liberals in mostly conservative families, how religion controls the minds of many, the thunderstorms of summer, how long can Chad play frisbee (forever), mowing lawn, repairing cars, fixing bathrooms floors when your landlord won't, reading paper versus on screen books, the creative writing process, finding inspiration to write, taking photographs, how emotional highs cannot be sustained indefinitely and how a middle range of contentment must eventually take hold, living on a farm together, paying off debt, taking road trips, traveling overseas.

All of which I thought looked wonderfully artistic as:

But I can't imagine not talking about sex and baseball. Like death and taxes. Only much more enjoyable. Those are going to be the glue that hold us together. And I like that. A lot.

Speaking of neither sex nor baseball, I was invited to another spanking party tonight. I don't want to go so I am not going. I think the novelty may have worn off, but I know for sure I can't imagine me starring in Sweat and The City. Blech. I think the city is only for me during the 3 other seasons. Yes, I'm a priss I guess.

But the invitation did bring up the question about whether or not I should share recent activities with Michigan. I fear no topic with him oddly enough, so I did, last night, after a stiff Boston Absolut and a few rounds of online backgammon.

We sprang into new topics for discussion. My blog, the people in NYC, and his overall level of curiosity. He enjoys when I share something I've written, but he doesn't feel an overwhelming need to read everything I write, he doesn't mind that I write about him, and he would like to meet the people in NYC sometime.

Hmmm, he didn't miss a beat with his calm replies.

The dreaded "where have you been all my life" cliche did poke its head up, uttered by him, stunned into silence by me. I hope it is not the kiss of death for this budding relationship.

Because to be even more cliche, he could be the yin to my yang. The sex to my baseball, the baseball to my sex.

(27 Days...)