Are you?

Well too bad, because I never spent any time with k.d. lang, making a movie or occupied otherwise. I had a dream that I did last night though. At one point k.d. and I were squatted down by a clear stream. I saw an old-fashioned key sitting on the streambed and pointed it out to her. She reached in. Moved a rock from one place to another and pulled her hand back out of the water. She looked more, as if contemplating a design, then reached in again and picked up the key.

There was also a character in the dream who was sort of like Katchoo from Strangers In Paradise. I kept trying to get close to her to strike up a conversation, but when she would turn and grin at me, my fantasy bubble of what I thought she would be like would burst and I'd think, eh, maybe not.

That's the most complex dream I've had (or remembered) in a long time. And I just want to state for the record that the film I was in with k.d. was NOT "Salmonberries". It was something in a much warmer climate with no nervous German women.

Thanks for all the sex offers from women who live far the hell away.

And Ragweed, if you'll look carefully, that "I want sex" portion of my post yesterday is completely gender neutral. I never said I was ruling out guys. I've been thinking it would be fun to play with a guy for a while now. As long as he would do whatever I said and then go away quietly when I told him to. Do you know how long it's been since I've even seen an actual in-the-flesh cock? It's probably been more than 15 years. After all the gay male porn I've read, I think I have a much better idea of what to do with one than I did when I was 19 or 20.

I only have one male lover from my past, Mark Trudeau, who I think it would be fun to find out where he is and what he's doing nowadays. But his name's a little too common and I have no idea what region of the globe he'd be in these days or what his profession might be.

See, Mark was the guy I lost my virginity with. The year was ... uh ... 1981 or 82. I asked him out for Sadie Hawkins day for our first date (we went to see a Richard Pryor movie and to dinner instead of the school dance). For our second date, he took me on a long ride on the back of his motorcycle to Cumberland Caverns. After we got home from that trip, we took a little walk, during which he said:

Mark: About sex ...
Badsnake: Yes?
Mark: I think we should be getting down to it.
Badsnake: OK.

A week or so later I partook of the long-honored tradition of high school girls telling their mom they're spending the night at a girlfriend's house (a girlfriend who will cover for them if said mom calls�my Catholic friend wouldn't do it) when she's actually spending the night at boyfriend's house while his parents are out of town.

So that would've been, like, our third date. I had a great time. We fucked until we were both sore. I don't think I ever pretended, even to myself, to be in love with the guy. I did have a huge crush on him. But we weren't ever a boyfriend-girlfriend type of couple.

Then he moved away with his parents before we could have a fourth date. No forwarding address. You'd think that would depress me. But it didn't really.

Okay, enough reminiscing. Mark, if you're out there, write me. I remember you as sweet and well-hung.