So last night, I went to a fetish party.
This is not something I normally do, but what the hell. A buddy of mine had offered to act as my mobile shield wall/native guide, and while you can accuse me of many, many things, lack of curiosity is not among them. The reasons I wanted to be an anthropologist were not all related to having seen Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom five hundred times.
And it was interesting. Not terribly well-populated, and admittedly there is only so much amusement I can derive from watching drunken frat boys electrocute various bits of their anatomy, but…interesting. (Personally, electricity is of no erotic interest to me whatsoever–after that nerve conduction test a few years back, I can’t even hear a bug zapper without twitching. Still, whatever floats your goat…) I suspect I am not enough of a voyeur to find such things really interesting, but like anything, it’s probably more fun if you know more people.
This morning, I got up, entirely too early given how late I was out, and went to the flea market. Since my Fiestaware was the only survivor of my move, I took it as a sign and picked up an assortment, plus a couple of earthenware bowls that appealled to me. And a duck decoy. I suspect I should resign myself to collecting duck decoys–I bought one a year or so back on a whim before I realized just how much I liked it, and have been keeping an idle eye out for them ever since. Mind you, this is not particularly a point in my life–living in a friend’s house, everything I own in boxes, income severely curtailed–when I need to be buying duck decoys, but I run across them so rarely, and I have learned, like all collectors, to buy it when you see it, damnit.
So now my personal effects in my temporary base of operations consist of one suitcase of clothes, a radio, a stack of used books, a barong sculpture, a laptop and a duck decoy. Because you gotta have the essentials, right?