Still not finished with rough draft, Bob has had off for a week so doing family stuff.
Yesterday for example we went back-to-school shopping. We bought Cheese clothes; we did have disagreements over kinds and color of t-shirts, and pants, and still haven't agreed on sneakers. We did agree on a nylon binder, which is great big, housing all sorts of stuff almost like a bookbag. And I have cut his hair.
I have come to regret letting him choose his hairstyle last year, it was one length and below his shoulder when he started middle school, and then went through several modifications before becomming a shorter shaggy cut in February. Yesterday's haircut gave him (for him) a rather short hair style, that is more like most of the kids at his school. He was okay with this. If he was an overtly friendly, extroverted, child, I would not worry about it, but he isn't. Last year I noticed a positive effect with how he related to others, as his hair got shorter. (I feel like the other hair style helped to visually isolate him)
The work I have been doing has been research, and I've been hiding in fixing grammar and puctuation ( changing past tense to present, and making sure when another person starts talking, I move to a new line). More of the same so far today, as I go through indenting the start of paragraphs, something I am now realizing, that I never do. And making sure my sentence punctuation is tucked into my quotations in dialogue. Something I sometimes do, and sometimes I put it after. From "Hi". or "Hi!". to "Hi."
yeah, fixing that will take a super long time.
On a totally different topic. I am a little concerned by my keen interest in the olympics this year. Or rather I should say my keen interest in watching the men who are competing. I mean I feel like the sort of man who sits on a corner watching ladies in tight skirts walk by, just waiting, and hoping, one will drop something so she has to bend over to pick it up.
I feel like a perv. I don't want to feel like a perv, but...I am
happily checking out the bodies of the male swimmers.
Watching Michael Phelps underwater,
I am entranced by their physical beauty.
"do that do me one more time" the song starts to play in my head, it is purely a visual request.
This is odd for me, usually, men in bathing suits, men in underwear adds, whatever, I don't care, I am not interested. Usually I assess, and enjoy the male form best, fully dressed. So my wondering what so and so would look like completely naked, and finally understanding the sort of beauty that inspired a statue like David, is quite a surprise to me.