A post in which I navigate a sticky social situation

I woke up feeling great this morning. I slept like a rock. I wonder if going to bed with a book last night instead of a movie made that much difference? If so I’m going to have to wean myself off the DVD player. I mean I really felt like myself. That was a refreshing change. I had forgotten how good it feels just to be healthy. I had a little talk with God on the way to work. I explained that if the last six months were an object lesson to make me appreciate my good health, then the message had been received.

Mom emailed me today about next week, again telling me not to start cleaning house. Yeah right. She always says that, but if she saw my bathroom right now, she’d take me over her knee. All unspecified pounds of me. And the toaster oven would send her screaming for the hills. But she’s nice to say that. It’s become like a ritual we go through before she visits now. She wants to go someplace special for dinner Wednesday night. I always try to take her to a new place when she comes to Greenville since she doesn’t come that often, and try to spoil her a little because her visits are a special occasion. So I’m taking her to The Peppermill. I’ve already told her I’m paying and I’ll hear no static about it. She’ll be upset that it’s expensive, but you only go around once, ya know?

They had free corned beef and cabbage at lunch today, but of course that didn’t do me much good. But one of the sales groups had fancy Chinese brought in, so I snagged some vegetable noodles and had a free lunch anyway. The noodles, of course, weren’t whole wheat, so by the time I got off work I was starving. I really, really wanted to stop and get some Mexican food on the way home. I was just drooling for some enchiladas. But I’m not supposed to eat them of course. Since Sunday (I know, big woo, two days ago) I have tried to be good. This is the first time in I can’t remember when that my fridge contains not a crumb of cheese. Plus I really didn’t feel like going home to eat salad that was going to go to the bad if I don’t eat it. But that was the virtuous thing. So I turned Gracine homeward.

On the way home though, I had decided to finally stop by CVS and buy a new beard trimmer. My ancient one finally bit the dust a couple of months ago, and since then I’ve been kind of doing the Grizzly Adams thing in between visits to Russ. To the point that he noticed and commented on it. Also, since spring is coming (I can feel the air warming, and George seems to be coming out of hibernation right on schedule) I need a beard trimmer to go down to and maintain the little chin beard that I typically wear in hot weather.

While I was at the CVS, getting the new trimmer and trying to ascertain from its taciturn packaging what manner of power it took to make the damn thing work, Miss Kat called me. They had just had their floor installed, and would I like to come see it? Well of course I would. They’ve worked so hard on that kitchen, and come out of the far side of a long tunnel. I know how that feels, and how excited you are when you get done. Plus they offered to feed me. And I knew they were going to have something better than ‘bout-to-turn salad.

I got there to view the floor. I had forgotten about what they had picked out. Miss Kat had showed me the sample a couple of weeks before, and before I even thought about it, I started laughing. They had picked out 12”square gray industrial tiles - The Official Flooring of lesbians everywhere, for some reason. Hey I don’t make the rules. But I was stupid enough to share this with Miss Kat, who was most nonplussed to hear it.

So I unexpectedly came face to face with a beautifully laid gray 12” square tile floor. Again. I didn’t laugh this time. The episode where I had shared the knowledge of the particular predilection lesbians have for this flooring had blessedly slipped my mind as well. But it had not slipped Miss Kat’s mind. “See, this doesn’t look like a lesbian floor!” she said. Uh-oh. So I’m standing there in the midst of this social dilemma. Miss Kat is my friend, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings or make her unhappy with her new floor, which as I say was very nice and quite serviceable. On the other hand, I didn’t feel right outright lying to her either. It’s just not in my nature. So I just said “OK.” And let it go. I thought.

One of the reasons this was so funny was that Miss Kat, although involved in a relationship with dana, doesn’t identify as a lesbian. She’s a Domme whose submissive just happens to be a woman. She really doesn’t put off lesbian vibes to me either. Other than being a pretty picky eater (another marked lesbian trait for some reason) (and no, I’m not going there), putting down this floor was the first really lesbian-like thing I’ve ever seen she and dana do. But she did not have any sense of humor about it at all when I mentioned this earlier.

They did come back to the floor later, and asked me if I really liked it, and wasn’t just being polite. It was a perfectly fine floor, just not what I would have chosen. But I knew that answer would make them unhappy. I love Miss Kat and dana. I managed to demur, but it was most uncomfortable. Would that I were a better liar. My life would be so much easier.

That little social black hole successfully circumnavigated (word of the week this week), we got on to supper. I had roasted potatoes and - salad, LOL. But at least their salad was really fresh, had lovely Catalina French dressing on it (which I won’t buy for my house because of the HFCS, but nonetheless LOVE), and CHEESE!! Lovely. I gotta get this cheese addiction under control. Apparently it really is going to be the death of me!

We had a very nice evening chatting and visiting before I toddled off home to bed.