peanut DeCaro

Yesterday i worked the Peanut Butter & Company Peanut Buttery Dessert Contest, an all-day affair held at a culinary institute. For the past few years, i've worked a few events each year as their monkey mascot. Yesterday they had me working out of costume. I spent much of the day organizing and setting up, and the last few hours greeting the guests who came for the award ceremony party that capped the day. It was all pretty lovely, as most of the PB employees are sweet people to be with.
Randomly, the last two women i was sexual with had orgasms, while i did not. Come to think of it, there was a third one in the past two years.
I didn't get as much yummy food as one might expect working a culinary soiree. But i did meet Frank DeCaro, the beautifully flamboyant man who used to do movie reviews on The Daily Show. I told him that his segment had been brilliant. He disarmingly replied that the producers must not have agreed. I held back my reply that the segment lost some of its snappiness after he lost his female partner. Had i not been working, i wonder whether i'd have held that comment back? Gentleness and honesty are sometimes at odds. The other highlight of the day was meeting a young woman who assessed a stranger's character with almost no clues. I asked her how she knew about this stranger. She said, "I feel things. So do you". We talked about intuition and family. At one point she reached across me, and her wrist rested on my hand for a few moments. I was only mostly sure she was of legal age, but my fingers lifted so more of our skin was touching, and a jolt passed between us.
I'm listening to a demo version of "Let It Down", from Harrison's ALL THINGS MUST PASS. It's an amazingly beautiful song, a fact long-obscured by Phil Spector's overproduction. On the re-release a few years ago, it was rescued and recorded the way it was meant to be, just George and a guitar.
Randomly, at this precise moment the three women i think most about holding are, in no order, married, 18, and chronically in love with me but determined that we are not to meet. Life's little funny realities. I did have a sleepover guest last night, the first i've had since coming to Astoria six months ago. Quite a dry spell. Even though i've been known to go years between lovers, my open cuddling nature has often resulted in regular bed buddies, particularly in New York. I once slept with four different women in a span of five nights, and had sex with none of them. M and i became somewhat sexual last night, but we'll perhaps not return to such behavior until we have more clarity on what we are to each other. Like i've said, i'm trying to explore the possibility that strong physical attraction can grow in time, as opposed to being only an initial chemical fact. But i so very much don't want to steamroll M or anyone in the name of self-exploration. She's a big girl, she's not doing anything she isn't choosing, and i'm not hiding anything from her...but we still have an obligation to take care of each other in our fumbling need to be loved. Sometimes it's easy, very often it's not.
Today i had the thought...despite a raw loneliness that's been almost undisturbed in fifteen years, with a back and head that hurt from lack of human contact, this week three things happened. A friend told me he was nearly obsessing over these writings of mine (understand, i've had blog feedback from very few, so it still feels like i'm doing this mostly for myself). An acquaintance remembered a comment from a month ago, and told me he had a spare cd player if i still needed one. And someone slept with me.
That can't be called a bad week.