Rhett Butler, Indigo Girls, and My Studio

So, Roomie L. and I went to the coast this weekend and sat by a picture window and watched the fog move in and out, swam in the waves, made delicious food and watched "Gone with the Wind". Now, keep in mind that this is the first time **ever** that I've watched the whole thing all the way through. Now, there are many questions that it raised for me, many points were I rolled my eyes, dropped by jaw, and generally yelled at the thing -- but there is one, enduring question:

Why do I find Rhett Butler sexy?

No, really, why? Is it his dandy/butch tendency, is it his ability to cut through bullshit, do I love him because he's so fucken patronizing? Because really, deep down, he respects Scarlett? Please tell me it's not about the mustache...

[As a side note, the new Indigo Girls CD, "Despite our Differences", really is excellent. Check it out if you're the type. ]

The weekend on the coast was wonderful. L. and I had a chance to do the sort of conversing and hanging out that we need, and sustains our friendship. Frankly, I've been too busy this past month or so to really devote the time to that kind of thing, and because of that there has been tension and because of that I've been dreaming about moving into a studio closer to NewJob and workshop next summer.

Part of this is that I really want to live by myself at some point in my life. I want to have space where I find my own habits and patterns and can be by myself whenever I want to. I crave a big room with big windows and hardwood floors -- and I can't afford it anytime soon.

TP will probably be moving to HarborCity next summer, and doesn't want to live together then/yet, which I think, and let me stress this: I think that that is a wise and mature decision. But I also feel a little bit like someone is suggesting that I have an extra helping of brussel sprouts when I want a piece of dark chocolate. And even though I like brussel sprouts... Anyway, that and heading into month four of commuting forty-five minutes in each direction is starting to make me dream about living in a studio -- maybe with a writing desk? [Make any Woolf references you so desire here].

The other thing about the weekend on the coast was that it made me realize how sexy it is to spend a weekend in a cottage on the coast and made me think that, despite my present company, surely there was a place in the world for good queer coastal erotica, no?

I'll just leave you with those images for the evening. :)