So much to update!
I wasn’t nominated for a Lezzy. That is such a bummer. I think it’s because I’ve only been on blogger since May. That and I only have two followers. I had three, and then one disappeared. I wonder if I did something wrong. Did I do something wrong? You’d think that with only three followers that I would remember those three people’s names and that we’d have this really wonderful, deep, and passionate Internet friendship. You’d think that we’d be all, “hey you, how was your day?” or “Hey, pal! How’s life?” Sadly, no. That’s not the case. It’s probably my fault that I lost my third follower. Is it my fault? Is it because I haven’t posted a blog since the 10th. I have a good reason. (It’s #2) It’s a really good reason, too, I swear.
I should get more followers. I wonder how Ms Snarker has so many. I should ask her. I will! I will ask Ms. Snarker from Dorothy Surrenders how it came to be that she has so many followers. Maybe she can be my mentor in this big crazy world of blogging. She’ll be my mentor and then I’ll get a Lezzy nomination. That’s not to say that there aren’t other fantastic lezzie blogs out there. There are. (This is when I say hello to my blog friends) Okay. I have one, really, who actually writes me back. Brown Girl Gone Gay, in the ATL by way of other small town, hello. She likes me, too. She’ll be my lezzie blogging mentor.
If you have not voted for your favorite blog, make sure to do it TODAY! You have 24 hours to make your votes. So take a minute to click on this link here
got that? go to that website and vote for your FAVORTITE cyber dykes 🙂
Maybe this time next year I’ll have millions, okay hundreds, okay at least 20 followers and then I will be nominated for a Lezzy, too.
Second: Dawg, My Mirs is doing much, much better! Thanks so much for asking. I briefly blogged about my absence. It was my lady. She came down with either a 24 hour flu or some wicked food poisoning from some shitty restaurant in NYC. Either way, it was not a good scene.
On Valentine’s Day we were supposed to go to a party called “Broken Hearts”, thrown by her friend Jessica in the Stuy in Brooklyn. The attire was all black, the attendees, super artsy hipster straight folks and a handful or more of queers. I was stoked to go. We’d spent the beginning of our day hanging out in Brooklyn. We walked around Williamsburg (yes, I still hate it) and Bushwick, in and out of thrift stores and cheese shops. We found some good deals and ate really yummy cheeses. Some where between Urban Jungle and home my eczema flared up around my face. I was pretty sure that I had my toxic eczema cream at Mirs but when we got home, I was wrong. Instead of scratching my face off I opted for some Benedryl. Plus Wine. Equals knocked the fuck out, for about three hours. When I woke up Mirs was just out of the shower. She laid down next to me and texted our friend, Athea, to see what the plan was. While we snuggled and waited for Athea’s response she mentioned how she was feeling a little tired. I told her that I was completely wiped out, but ready to go if she was.
Athea texted back about five minutes later that her lady was feeling under the weather and that they’d be spending the evening in. Since I was already half asleep and Mirs was all of a sudden feeling tired, we decided to stay in.
Fast forward two hours and Mirs is ass naked, sweating bullets, yet shivering that she’s cold. She’s taken off all of her clothes, because they “hurt” but needs blankets because she’s cold.
We finally got her comfortable and laid down for the night, so I thought. Instead, she tossed, turned, and moaned and got up three times to vomit. I forced fluids, gave her Advil for her fever, and stroked her body, when it didn’t hurt too much.
Half way through the night, freaked out and panicked at her crazy sweats, her intense sensitivity to clothing or touch, and her writhing in pain, I suggested that we go to the hospital. She objected, turned over on her side, and spent the rest of the night throwing blankets off her sweaty body, just to pull them back on minutes later when she was cold.
This went on for the entire night.
The next morning I woke up and went to the grocery store looking for ingredients to make brothy soup, Popsicles, and electrolytes. I made the most ridiculously bland vegetable soup, fed her saltines, vitamin water, and juice pops for the whole of the next day. We sat in bed, watching David Attenborough talk about Mammals on Netflix.
By day three she was on the mend and her apartment smelled like sick sweat. We changed her sheets, got down some rice and lentils and she started to look a bit better.
Today she’s fine, a little weak and hungry. She went to class and I went to work. She’s actually in the kitchen now making me her Grandma’s matzo ball soup. I’m not even sick!
I don’t think there’s really a third. Stuff is going on at work that I can’t really discuss because folks from work read my blog.
I almost forgot! How could I forget this!?! Okay. Remember WAY back before my wonderful and amazing girlfriend, Mirs? When I was having phone text and then actual sex with S? Homegirl called me! Well, she texted me at 12:30AM. Since I got my new fancy Blackberry phone to replace my piece of crap older Blackberry phone I lost all of my phone numbers. On Mirs sick day #2, I wake to find the text.
11:23AM “Hi, Who’s this”
11:25AM “It’s S@#$ S@#^%, blah blah blah
I deleted the text so the times are complete bullshit.
ANYWAY, she goes on to say something like, “I can’t believe you deleted me. My girlfriend and I broke up. How’s your relationship”
I responded with something like, “That’s too bad, Mirs is amazing, going to the grocery to make her soup. I got a new phone, sorry your number’s gone”
Then she’s all “Oh, glad you two are happy. Just wanted to say hi. I need some lesbian friends”
To which I responded, “Yeah, totally, finding friends is hard. I’ll call you sometime.”
So I told Mirs about it and she found it amusing. And then she goes, Erika I know you’ve been looking for lesbian friends, too. If you want to hang out with her you should.
I love my girlfriend. She’s so fucking amazing.
But, no. I do not want to hang out with her. It’s not because we fucked. It’s because she’s unstable. We have sex in the middle of the night, because she calls at 2AM and then the next morning she goes home and then a week later she’s back with her girlfriend. Reading that back it sounds like I’m pissed or something so I don’t feel the need to really explain it much farther than this. She and I didn’t “have”
anything. She was a girl I chatted with online and occasionally via text message.
A long, long time ago. In new Erika Mirs land. She sent me a text suggesting a threesome with me, Mirs, and her. I declined. Weeks later she says she’s fighting with her girlfriend, I offer support. Then a few weeks later she sends a random text to hang out. (At this point I’m insanely in love with Mirs) I ask her how her relationship is going. To which she sends me this crazy text back calling me a fucking bitch, telling me I’m nosey, and that it has nothing to do with me. ( I swear to the baby Jesus) Then an hour later sends another apologizing and blaming wicked PMS. Hmmmm. That was the last text-at the end of the summer.
So what am I supposed to do with that? Why would I want to be friends with this person. The Midwestern Ohio girl wants to give her a chance. I am struggling for lesbian friends of my own in NYC. Every lezzie I know is Mirs’ friend before mine and it’s hard. I’m not that hard up for lez friends, though. Good god. Is this called Dyke Drama? I suppose it could be, if I let it. I’m too old for it, though.
So that’s that. There’s lots on my mind, actually, and lots to say. But it’s almost eleven, I’ve got a little bit of beer left and some soup to eat. I’m drunk, tired, and feeling frisky. So good night.
P.S-Come back third follower. I miss you.
P.P.S-The beer Mirs got from her bodega down the street was only $2 it’s more thatn 12oz and it’s 9.5% alcohol…