It was just too weird when I would go over to Swiss Toni's place to have the color and the layout be the same. So I'm back to pink. I kinda like it. I kinda missed it. Very odd.
I'm reading a book called the Halved Soul about romantic ideals in our society. I want to talk about it, but I also don't. It's as though it's too much for my brain this morning.
I've sent out my evite for my birthday party next month. I forgot a few people that I need to add. SS isn't going to be able to be there, but she's offered to bake me a cake! That rocks...she's such a good baker. She's actually the one who made the dough for the hamentaschen that HippyChick and BeeDragon loved so much (I mashed the prunes & S helped with the construction).
I went to belly dance last night. Wow, you do things with your body in belly dance that you just don't do normally. She drilled us on a couple really difficult moves this week. I was only able to work on each of the movements seperately. I'm going to have to practice this week. I'm sure to have rock hard obliques when I'm done.
I do love that class, though. There are very different levels in the class, and lot's of different body shapes. It's so fascinating to see. It's also a challege sometimes because of my body shape, it is sometimes difficult for me to see the difference in certain moves in the way that some of the other women are. Still, I really like my shape and the way that I can move my body.
Body image reminds me that I'm mad at CSI. I was thinking this morning about a worry that I've had occassionally...I've been worried that I might crush or smother S during sex (interestingly, I've never felt this way in relation to SS who is bigger like me). Why does this make me mad at CSI, you wonder? Well, it was that show that planted the seed of the idea that I could kill him inadvertently with my weight. There was a plot line in which a gentleman fancied big women and went to a fat gathering to meet such women. He was much more petite, and at one point, his chosen partner (who was drunk) passed out on him post-coitus. He suffocated.
I know it's a stupid, silly worry. But it's been there nonetheless (how did that become just one word, I wonder). I think it's the first time I've really thought consciously about it, so hopefully that will help me let it go. And maybe I just need to stop watching CSI so much.
Okay, I'm going now. Have a good Tuesday.