But what I really appreciate - when my son is away- are those simple moments of sleeping past 6am, or sitting down to back-to-back Netflix deliveries, or even starting a huge house project and actually finishing it with no interruptions (except to change musical artists on last.com).
This post is not about the pure (emphasis on the word "pure") and sweetness of my life as a single, suburbia mommy. In fact, Dad, stop reading right here. Please. You'll regret it if you go further. Fine, don't say I didn't warn you.
Last week, I got an invitation through Facebook from an old...um, let's call him an acquaintance. Someone I met several years ago. At a retreat. That I went to with my husband at the time. His idea. Let's call it an intimacy retreat. I'll let you use your imagination. What happened at the retreat may not have been on the "up and up" in my book, but rest assured, some of the people who I met there were not so naked weird and I actually kept in touch with a few. By keeping in touch, I mean that we are Facebook friends which doesn't really count as truly keeping in touch. And yes, I did stay fully clothed throughout the weekend.
I sincerely hope that my Dad has stopped reading. Oh well.
So the invitation from this acquaintance comes through on my email and I happened to be on the treadmill at the time which is dangerous but efficient whilst "Facebooking" and as I read the details of the event, I had to hit the Emergency Stop button to keep from falling off. Here is what it said:
Erotic dinner and party in very elegant historic San Francisco home with hardwood floors, grand piano and erotic art collection. Come dressed with class as your favorite fetish: dom, sub. freak, business man, prostitute, Cinderella, slave, master, nurse, doctor, policeman, judge, prisoner, psycho, French maid, priest, doormat, invasive parent, etc. Please go for it and express full-out ! No limits on your fantasy.
No sneakers in the building please. Please bring toys and attributes if appropriate for your persona and bring a beverage/bottle of wine/juice/ other. Delicious Food will be prepared and served.
There is no agenda or specific limit regarding the erotic play part. Whatever happens happens. Everything is a choice and everyone is at choice about every experience. This is a conscious respectful environment.
Obviously not your normal Evite invitation, but wait, this is Facebook and anything goes. Nevertheless, a few things stand out here - at least from my perception:
- No sneakers in the building? But whips are OK?
- Elegant historic San Francisco home happens to be located in Pacific Heights. So let's say I plan on going and choose to dress as a prostitute as my sexual fetish. It's not exactly around October 31st and I'm not much in the mood to be arrested...perhaps French Maid would be a better selection?
- A doormat? Really? How fun is that?
- No agenda or specific limit regarding the erotic play part? What erotic play part? Is the piano somehow involved? Because why else would it be mentioned? I'm just saying. Really, I thought we were going to eat oysters, sip champagne, laugh at each other's costumes and ogle the erotic art. Maybe there would be some lovely piano music? Again, why else mention the piano? Which brings me to my next point...
- Is it just me or does the post read like a real estate ad? Hardwood floors, elegant, historic? I don't know about you but I need to know what kind of floors I'm going to be standing on before I can RSVP to a party. Carpet? Forget it. And lighting is critical. I simply can't attend a home party if they don't use CFLs. No freakin' way. Don't invite me to a party in a dive either - it's elegance or nothing, same for post-modern - deal breaker, for sure! I'm all about things being nice. And old.
Now my dad can let out a huge sigh of relief (if he's still reading which I undoubtedly assume that he is) because I won't be going to the party. Not that it doesn't sound like an entertaining way to spend my Friday night but if you read my last post, you'll know that I'm on recess right now and whilst on recess, I refuse to commit to anything that requires a lot of effort and I don't see how dressing up as a dominatrix, driving to the city, chatting with people who I don't know and potentially off unwanted sexual advances as the cocktails flow into the "erotic play" portion of the evening could be very relaxing or restorative.
Not that being a dominatrix is very suiting to me, by the way. Just for the record.