Monday, September 24, 2012

Meeting the kid

I went camping this weekend with The Mind Reader and his 13 year old son.

It was interesting. I never thought I would be meeting someone's kid.  Interesting is an understatement, actually. It was a total mind fuck.  When I was younger my dad would bring his young girlfriends camping with us.  It felt exactly the same.  Only this time I was the young girl.

We drove to Inks Lake.  There is a swimming hole next to a campsite that his son really loves.  The campsite was booked.  So The Mind Reader went to the camp office and asked what we could do. They told him that he can find a camper with a site and ask them if we could share it.  So, naturally, he did just that.  This old couple went out of their way to help us camp there.  In the morning, I lay in the tent while The Mind Reader told the couple how grateful he was for their hospitality and kindness and his graciousness warmed my heart.  It is really nice to be around a person like that.

In the morning, in the tent, we woke up with the sun.  And the ducks. And this shitty little kid who kept screaming about how he didn't want eggs.  We were tangled in each other like two new lovers are in the morning.  Whispering things, trying to be quiet, and being interrupted by this screaming kid and the obnoxious ducks.  He tells me, "This is really nice, but if we stayed here another night this place would have a few less ducks." I start to laugh.  Then he says, "But first I would feed that screaming kid to the ducks."  We both laugh as he mocks the kid.

He has his arms around me. He slides his hand down my back and cups my ass and tells me, "Touching you feels like going home after being away for a long time." I couldn't possibly be more flattered.  Just a few days earlier when I was on vacation I told my friends that the best part of being away was getting to go home and that feeling of comfort.

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Car conversations

Lauren: I like to play the part of the wounded bird.  I like for men to take care of me.
Mind Reader: And you're not wounded?
Lauren: Maybe I am.
Mind Reader: You are a wounded bird playing the part of a healthy bird playing the part of a wounded bird.
Lauren: [laughing] Boy, is that right on the money.

Sunday, September 02, 2012

Moonlight Blue

Friday night The Mind Reader came over.  He had this idea to take me dancing so he can teach me how to two-step.  He walks in, piles the pillows up behind his head, lays on my couch, puts his arm behind his head and asks me what I want to do.  I sit beside him. He watches me.  I think for a moment and say that I want to go somewhere and go skinny dipping in the light of the full moon.

His mind is immediately changed about dancing.  He starts a running list of all the places we could swim.  Would this or that place be busy? It is Friday night, on a full moon, a blue moon.  He comes up with some ideas.  We consider camping.  Of course, I just dropped off my tent at my friend's house because of a trip I am about to take.  So we brought blankets, pillows, exercise matts, and some food, water and champagne. We bought a mop bucket at HEB and a bag of ice to keep the champagne cold.

Then we started to drive.  And talk.

We drove for two and a half hours.  We parked the car on the side of the road.  He knew this little spring fed hole in this creek.  Well, it was pretty dry.  The hole was still there but about calf deep and more slimy than anything.  We skipped the swimming.  On the walk to the would be swimming spot in the dry creek bed, there was a tree that had fallen over.  It was smooth, probably from being under water a lot. We sat on that tree.  The curve where it got wider where the roots where was so perfect I lay back on it.  He straddled the tree and I wrapped my legs around his waist.  We faced one another and talked for a good while.   When we left the tree we found a spot in the moonlight underneath an oak.  We laid out the matts, blankets, pillows and popped the champagne.  We stayed out there until 5 in the morning.  Talking and having sex.  Looking at the moon.  As we were laying there lost in our conversation, in each other's bodies, we heard a noise.  It was a goose honking.  Then  the bird flew across the field next to us about 30 feet away.  A deer stumbled upon us.  Then, the mosquitos came.  We gave them their home back.  When we were driving back to Austin through this little town he told me to make a right.  He led me to a river park with a damn.  The river was full and deep. We sat there and put our feet in the water for a few minutes, kissed and then left for the rest of the way home.

We got into bed about 7am.  We had sex one last time before we fell asleep.

We slept late. When we woke up we went to breakfast.  We tried for a nap when we got back, but ended up having sex instead.  In the shower afterward we sat there and I tried to come up with all sorts of ways to describe the blue of his eyes.  They all involved moonlight.

We napped until 8:30pm.  When we woke up I was starving.  He asked me what I wanted to eat.  I said I would like to go to a picnic in the park.  So we went to Whole Foods. We got some coleslaw, heirloom tomato salad, a peach, and some watermelon.  We went to the park.  The moon was so very full. We forgot the plastic forks and the water in my car. So I stayed and he went and got them. When he got back he had cut the top off of a P.Terry's cup that was in the floor board of my car and picked wild flowers. It made a lovely centerpiece. The peach was sweet, the sweetest peach I have had in a while.  I finished every last bite. It fell off the pit as I bit into it.  I lay on a sheet in the grass looking at the Austin skyline and the moon.  It was the best picnic I have ever attended.  I told him, "That peach was magical. It had magic in it." He asked "What kind of magic? Was it a healing peach? A prosperity peach?" I said it was an enjoy this moment peach.

We went back to my apartment and watched Secretary.  I fell asleep in his arms.

In the morning we both had to go back to the real world. He had to leave the vacation of me.  I sat alone in the quiet room, sleepy, thinking about the weekend.

One to remember.