Enter the eunuch

Boris finally had his surgery yesterday. It was supposed to happen on Thursday but they had to reschedule due to some problem with the anasthesia machine. My response, naturally, was, "But he's a tough little booger. He doesn't need anasthesia. Anasthesia is for wimps." Why is it that women chuckle at that and men have a deeply pained look on their faces whenever I say this?



Oh well. Here is a shot of Boris relaxin' (I was going to say "chillin'" but that was another post.) this past Sunday. He had no clue what was in store for him.

Last night he tried running all over the place, playing with Natasha. He was supposed to be taking it easy but he rarely listens to me. Actually I really wouldn't know much about his behavior last night except for his first hour home.

I went into San Francisco. I decided to be daring and to take BART, something I rarely do in the evening. The ride was almost enough to make my night. I got on the train and was greeted by the Ying Yang Twins or someone similar. They were each sprawled across a seat -- not together, two separate seats. Then this woman got on in downtown Oakland.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"I have a man. I'm going to the next car."

"Oh. Because you know I'd be on you with all that ass."

As the woman went into the next car, the guy turned to his friend. "I'm a savage."

I was in San Francisco for a screening of A History of Violence. The director answered questions after the movie and then there was a reception with wine and appetizers. (I could probably do a whole post on Cronenberg's discussion of his film. I mean the discussion started with, "Politics, violence, and sex are the same thing.") I, of course, stopped at my fave place on the way home which means I got in around 2:30 or so.

Met a 26 year old boxer who kept trying to convince me that I needed him in my life or in somewhere. I think we parted ways when he tried to foist his developmentally challenged friend on me. It wasn't the foisting that was so bad. It was that he was so entertained. I then went on to meet other boys, one of whom walked me home. I think he may have had some things in common with Boris if I remember correctly.

I just hope that this means less time of Boris climbing up the curtains so that he can walk across the curtain rod. What am I thinking? He's a boy after all...