tcsa

Bag Sans Cat

I was waiting for Eric to brag post about it before I also boasted posted it, but I was privy to that singular of pleasures the other night- an actual voice in my ear, and what a silky suave voice it was... Eric, my darling little brother and our own Straight White Guy, called me.
Okay, yeah, I admit I did everything but send him nekid phone pics a la Paris to entice the man to fondle my digits, but still, it's the results that count, right?
It was a fine and dandy conversation, with both of us pleasantly surprised at how different the face in the ear is from the face in the imagination.
Yes, yes, I know I'm gushing. And I know people all over the bloggy world have their huge list of Phone Phriends. I've never been one of those and I'll now break super-secret radio quiet time silence and tell you all a funny one:
I am a recovering agoraphobic. That agoraphobia included hiding out from all contact with other people, face to face or voice to ear. For a bit I didn't even do emails. I still have my fantasies of being a deaf hermit in a luxury cave somewhere, or maybe just Howard Hughes with a better manicure.
But I got over it, with the incredible patience and support of the GM1 and babysteps out into the Big Threat that was human contact, and I can pretty much say it was when I began blogging. Blogging dug up my anti-social corpse and made it walk and talk (and talk and talk and talk.... Eric, sorry about your ear) again.
I backslide every now and then and pretend to be invisible and hide out in the Beal. I'm still really nervous in new situations, no matter how bravely I may write about them. And I still refuse steadfastly to go all Paxilated, prefering to just gird my loins (girding is kinda kinky if you do it right, girls) and in extreme moments, slam a shot of Kettel One. But I progress.
After all, if I can handle the Jesus Finger guy, I can deal with anyone.