like rockets…

Saturday was one of the most productive days I’ve had in a long time. I think it’s because last night I taught what I am calling a penile pleasure workshop, and although I had little time to prepare (I only found out about it on Wednesday) it went off well. It was for these really cool, strong, independent women, two of whom happen to be news reporters for large TV stations. So, that was fun. We all learned something new. Like did you know that you can tell the size of a man’s penis by measuring the length from the tip of his pointer finger to the base of his palm?

Can anyone do research for me and report back please?

Then, yesterday I ran into someone from my past, someone I never expected to see again. I am going to leave it at that for now, perhaps I’ll go into more detail at a later time, but let’s just say it was a weird situation. And it didn’t help that I couldn’t remember his name!

And this weekend I learned that I have an easier time moving on than I give myself credit for. I’ve had to work out a major “issue” over the last few months, and ever since Mercury left retrograde, no joke, I feel like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders, and the “issue” has, for the most part, been resolved.

Okay, before I go way off on some tangent, I am a bit nervous. One of my oldest friends, and one of only two people I really keep in touch with from high school, is getting married at noon, and I am going to be in a room with at least 12 other people I went to high school with. I have a bit of anxiety about this and I’m not really sure why. I think it’s because I am going to be surrounded by so many people from my past. High school feels like a million years and five lifetimes ago.

And then reunion.com sent me an email saying that someone was looking for me. Only they wouldn’t give me more than the person’s initials, and I don’t care enough to pay for the services of a high school reunion website, so I have no idea who is trying to find me.

Not no idea, I do know some thing, one piece of information. The initals they go by are F.S.

F.S. if you read this, you can contact me here. And if you did go to my high school and know AMY WARREN, will you please tell her that she is really the only person I wish I still knew. AMY WARREN if you are F.S., let’s get together for a drink. And if you aren’t, I’d still love to catch up with you. Whatever happened to Rikki Rocket?