Comments on: pillow talk

By: P in France

P in France — Mon, 06 Feb 2006 18:05:23 +0000

A rent boy is a young male prostitute, in my neck of the woods !

By: Postmodern Sass

Postmodern Sass — Mon, 06 Feb 2006 17:15:43 +0000

I’d never heard them called soldiers before, but I figured from the photo what Petite meant. What I’d like to know is, what’s a rent boy? (Am I living too sheltered a life in Toronto?)

By: Adventurer-to-be

Adventurer-to-be — Mon, 06 Feb 2006 07:52:49 +0000

@ Kerry (in Washington).
I also wondered what a kind of food “Soldiers” are. I asked this question in comment No. 28 and Jude answered it in No. 32.

@ Petite.
Do you feel better? I hope so, but actually it seems to be a time for flu. I even caught one myself and now are at home. Can flu be passed on via the internet? – in this case it could blame you *attccchhhoouuuu!!!*

By: Bella

Bella — Sun, 05 Feb 2006 11:16:12 +0000

Thank you. I have spent most of yesterday evening and this morning reading your journal from its beginnings.

It has made me question just how much of myself I have sacrificed over the years for an outwardly peaceful, but inwardly turmoiled existance.

I wish you the very best in life. You deserve it.

By: Postmodern Sass

Postmodern Sass — Sat, 04 Feb 2006 23:21:34 +0000

Petite, I hope you’re feeling better. Everyone I know this side of the ocean has been sick this past week. Who knew a contagion could stretch so far?

I’m a little… well, puzzled, I guess you could say, by the way you write about the man in your life. Didn’t you tell us before Christmas that his name is Jim? And link to some of the comments he’d left on your blog before you two got together? So, um, why do you call him “Lover” still? (Other than, of course, the fact that he is your lover.) When you move in together, and if you get married, will you call him Live-In, and then Husband?

Of course it’s your blog and you can call anyone anything you like, but speaking as a long-time reader, it messes with my reading brain, ever so slightly. I have to do a translation in my mind; every time I see “Lover” I think to myself, “Oh, she means Jim.”