Lesbian socks revisited

Last night, my yoga teacher and dear friend, Kathy, told me how much she enjoyed my blog. Kathy has told me so a few times now over the past few months, both times in front of a small group of people. I’m quite touched by her sentiments because: a) I regard Kathy very highly; and b) Kathy writes her own very thoughtful and inspiring blog that always leaves me with something to think about.

When she mentioned my blog last night, Kathy told me that her favourite laugh-out-loud post was the one about lesbian socks. I was especially pleased that Kathy recalled the humour in the post perhaps more than the scary ER visit where the incident occurred. I don’t want my readers to be haunted by the scary stuff I’m dealing with any more than I am. Maybe humour is the greatest diffuser.

In fact, this ER visit raised a number of serious questions about my health, and led to a series of critical investigations, including a bone marrow aspiration. Which led to a search for a third undiagnosed malignancy. (The doctors decided that my first two–CML and polycythemia–just weren’t enough.) This coming Tuesday, January 6, before I learn about radiation of my spleen, I will be learning whether I have yet another cancer. It will be quite an intense day. Send good thoughts, okay?

But back to Kathy last night: when she mentioned the socks post, I provided a two-sentence summary for the group, which I ended, in an overly cocky tone I might add, by saying: “I’m sure if you did a search for ‘lesbian socks’, my post would come up.” When I got home later that evening, I decided I’d better do that search to make sure I wasn’t leading people astray. To my horror, the search brought up an endless number of porn sites. Who would have thought men could fetishize lesbians in socks? It never occurred to me. I fear that, having done this search, I will now be inundated with pornography pop-ups. And I pray that no one in the group did the search herself. If so, my deepest apologies.

I think it’s fair to tell you that porn is not my thing. I won’t judge you if it’s your thing, but it’s not mine. In case you have forgotten, I am square. I spend my spare time at the library, not on line perusing porn sites. It’s taken years for spammers to stop sending me penis extension ads, which arrived unsolicited, I might add; I’d rather they not start up again. I don’t have a penis (although when I used to go camping, I did indeed have penis envy), so the ads seemed somewhat futile to me.

Kathy’s affection for my lesbian-socks post also surprised me somewhat because I’ve always thought my post about my (female) dog’s penis was my most memorable entry. Come to think of it, do you think that’s why I was getting all those penis-extension ads? I’d better choose my topics more carefully in the future.

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