Archive for the 'musings' Category

“Normal” Weekend

I’ve had a quiet weekend. Both Davey and MasterDoc are away, so I’ve spent a lot of time by myself. I worked yesterday, but then went to see my father afterwards. It’s so strange driving up there to visit - in some respects it feels like I’m going home again. But of course in many ways it’s changed and I think of the saying, “You can’t go home again.” The town I lived in for so many years has changed subtly (and not so subtly with the new, larger firehouse). It feels kind of familiar and yet peculiar to drive those roads I’ve driven so many times in my life.

My parents separated just before I moved out, and my mother moved out of the house about a week before I did. It’s strange not having her in the house. It’s strange going into the house entirely - from the front door on, because my dad has done so much work on the house since I’ve moved out. The front door is different, the stairs as soon as you walk in no longer have carpeting. The bathrooms have been completely redone. His girlfriend moved in a while later, and now her furniture makes the place feel different as well. So much of my grandmother’s furniture was taken when my grandmother died and my uncle practically ransacked the place. Going home makes me miss my grandmother more acutely. Hell, I even got to missing the family dog that was put to sleep several years ago.

It’s funny that it makes me sad and missing my old life there, because things in my family’s household were always dysfunctional. My mother and I would argue easily, my brother liked to shout to get points across and has real anger issues. (He has now estranged himself from the family.) In so many ways it’s been good that things have moved on, but it can be sad to let go of a time of your life. Driving home, I was bombarded with memories as I drove through town. So many times I’d been there, so many times I’d driven by. So many memories of people who are no longer in my life.

It was kinda nice to have a “normal” weekend for a change. I had dinner with dad and his girlfriend and then we played the card game Guillotine, which I brought along. It was nice to see my dad, even though I don’t feel like I can openly talk about MasterDoc there. (I slid his name and the phrase “my other boyfriend” into a conversation about games.) Dad was kinda freaked out when I came out as poly a few months back on the telephone. I want to have him meet MasterDoc sometime, but in some ways he can be conservative and I’m not sure he can handle poly. He’ll always respect the fact that I’m an adult and make my own decisions, but that doesn’t make him comfortable with those decisions. (Just like he’d never try to change my brother being gay, but he sees it as a choice, rather than inborn, and so while he won’t shut you out he doesn’t necessarily understand either.)

When I got home, to the apartment I live in now, I did feel like I arrived home. It’s kinda like there are three places I feel are “going home” when I go there - the apartment I share with Davey, my Dad’s house, and MasterDoc’s. It’s kinda lovely to feel at home so many places.

The visit to my dad’s house reminds me of a favorite Beatle song:

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends
I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I’ve loved them all 

But of all these friends and lovers
there is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more 

Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more

Too Long for a Twitter

I love this. I pondered if this should be a tweet but I think I need more than 140 characters to mention this. In looking through links to my blog in my blog stats I came across this list of links. The link to my blog is titled, “Are you grown up enough for this?” And right under it is something in German, which according to yahoo bablefish translates to, “This question is meant serious.”

LOL! I love this. It makes me feel like I’m so dangerous and edgy. (Little old me?) And so terribly naughty that people should ask themselves if they’re really grown up enough to read my blog. (Yes, I enjoy feeling like a bad girl.)

MasterDoc

It’s been bothering me that the post that got the most comments is the post where I was angry with MasterDoc. Oh I don’t mean to say that it bothers me that people care and want to see me happy; I appreciate in particular my blogger friends’ quickness to “defend” me. But I think what people outside of my life can’t know, unless I tell them, are all the wonderful things about MasterDoc that make me happy to be with him. Yes, he pushes my limits (and sometimes my buttons) now and then, but 99% of the time he is wonderful, and pushing limits is part of power exchange. That angry post elicited a very nasty comment, which I chose not to post, tearing down MasterDoc, from someone who ostensibly doesn’t know him. And that bothers me.

But like most people, I’m inclined to be the most vocal when I feel unhappy. Isn’t it fucked up that as humans we get all quiet when we’re happy but vocal when we’re not? Sure I convey to you all the hot sex and wonderful orgasms, but there’s much more to my relationship with MasterDoc than that. It’s not all about the sex.

He takes his role as my Dominant seriously. He watches out for me. He often notices I’m getting depressed before I even notice it. He keeps tabs on my emotional state pretty much continuously. If I get a pensive look he’s quick to ask me what I was thinking, and to press if I’m reluctant to say. I need that. I keep so much inside me when I’m down, I need to learn to talk about my problems and deal with them rather than avoiding them and stewing on them. And it’s not only mental well-being that he watches out for - I felt sick last week, some stomach trouble, and he was quick to ask me all his doctor questions to try to figure out what was wrong and recommended what I should do about it. (It helps to have a Dom who’s a doctor.) Even though I was angry with him at the time, I felt really thankful that he was there to help me regardless of my cranky mood and behavior. All I have to say is that I’m not feeling well and immediately he’s concerned and wants to help - whether the trouble is physical or mental. He’s like this with pretty much all the women in his life - submissives, lovers, friends. (MasterDoc almost exclusively has women in his life. lol)

When we’re out playing in public, he keeps a close eye on what other guys around me are doing and he’s quick to stop someone from unauthorized touching. He sizes up potential playmates and makes prudent decisions as to who is allowed to play with me. Last weekend when we had the other Dom visit, MasterDoc checked in on me many times that evening.

I may do a lot for him as a submissive, but he thanks me all the time, I mean ALL THE TIME for the things I do to help him around his place. He is always appreciative. He’s always complimenting me on how efficient I am and saying sweet things like, “You’re the bestest!”

Which brings me to another thing I love about him - he’s human. He doesn’t pretend to be perfect, and I don’t pretend that he’s perfect. A few years back I looked for a Dom on CollarMe, and I was unhappy with what I found. Way too often the Dominant men were full of themselves, took themselves too seriously and had to behave like they’re “lord and master of the universe” every second of interacting with me. MasterDoc has a sense of humor. We laugh a lot. He can be charming and adorable and say silly things like, “You’re the bestest.” He doesn’t worry about it making him seem less Dominant. He has a very silly sense of humor and that goes well with mine. While I’m always his submissive, things are pretty relaxed much of the time. We hang out, watch DVDs together, play games, all sorts of “normal” things. It’s not “suck my cock bitch!” 24/7. We have my collar to help denote when I need to be especially in the mindset, but most of the time he’s very cool about being a Dom. He might ask me to go get him a drink, but he will tell me that it’s not important to go right away, that I can wait until the next commercial. His every whim doesn’t have to be catered to the second it appears. (I would suppose some Doms would say he’s too soft with me, but I feel like he’s just the right amount of ‘domliness’ for me.) If I’m about to do something and he asks me to do something else I will ask him if it’s okay to do what I was planning on doing first, or if he needs me to do what he asks right now. Usually he will say that what he wants can wait a minute. But I can trust that if he wants it done right away that it’s important that it gets done right away.

I also appreciate that he doesn’t expect me to me perfect. All the time I forget things he’s asked me to do - unintentionally, I can just be a space cadet much of the time, and he doesn’t punish me for it he just prods me again to do it. I may get a mild scolding but he doesn’t make me feel terrible for making a mistake. After going to the car twice in one evening for things he had forgotten there, I joked that if I should outlive him (likely considering our age difference) and look for another Dom someday, that I will look for one without ADD. But you know, I soon realized that a Dom without ADD might not appreciate how easy it is to forget things and how unintentional it can be. I’m never going to be perfect, after all, who is, but he tries to help me improve by talking to me calmly and rationally. I love his rationality. I get so caught up in emotions and he’s like a calm port in a storm. He’s very patient with me.

He’s also a wonderful cuddler. His arms feel so solid and comforting to be in. We make time for cuddling quite a lot. He’s very loving when he’s not beating the crap out of me. *grin* He’s very attuned to my limits and we’ve never played with a safeword - I’m sure that will surprise people. But he pays close attention to me and my reactions when we play, and he knows when to stop and when he can press on. A couple of months back I was in a depression and started bawling my eyes out during a scene - and he knew when to stop and just hold me and let me cry. (And we had discussed prior how I would like to cry during a scene, I thought it would be very cathartic.) Now as we said before he’s not perfect, but he always pays attention to the effect his behavior has on me and adjusts it if something didn’t work well the first time. (For example, after we sorted out the issue last week, he made a comment that his one regret was pushing me during a time when we hadn’t seen each other for days and weren’t going to see each other for days. Pushing me a bit when I’m going to see him the next day is different than pushing me when it will be days before we can talk. He notices these things and files them away for future reference.) He understands that sometimes submission is difficult and things need to be talked out. He’s always up for a talk. And unlike me, who usually tries to hide behind the internet, he makes a point of talking in person, so that after the rough patch has been dealt with we can cuddle and feel good again.

When I’m at his place he takes care of my basic needs - he always pays for food. He picks up things at the store that I would like. He’s very generous not only with his time but with money as well. After all, I work full time, I could reasonably be asked to pay my half of any meal. But he recognizes that I earn less than him and that his feeding me is a huge help. He takes care of me on so many levels. If I need a hug he will go out of his way to see me if he can.

When you have a blog, it’s all too easy to make yourself look good and your Dom out to be a big meanie-pants. But I have my flaws, and there’s things about me which MasterDoc deals with with amazing patience. Neither of us is perfect, but we are happily imperfect together.

So, um, why don’t y’all comment on some of the other posts, too?

Change

Today I got to thinking about how “the only constant is change.” As Davey and I walked through Murray Hill (the neighborhood, not the drag king) to where we get our hair cut, I thought how I first became familiar with the neighborhood through a guy I dated years ago who lived there. Walking down those streets, past his apartment building, brings up memories and I got to thinking - nothing stays the same. What is reality in your life at one point in time won’t be that way forever. Relationships change, relationships end, same goes for friendships and jobs.

Several years ago when I dated that guy, I had no way of knowing that it wouldn’t last for long (just under two years) but for that moment in time I was with him and I was happy with him (until we both grew to be unhappy with each other). We have no way of knowing how our lives will change. I’m sure that Butterfly Temptress had no way of foreseeing that in her early 30’s she’d be in a life or death struggle with cancer. No one expects that. I’m sure when my grandmother beat breast cancer in her 40’s she had no way of knowing that it would show up in her remaining breast 40 years later (or that she’d beat it again, and beat a third bout of cancer at age 90, only to die from a stroke about a month before her 92nd birthday). Life is so unexpected.

And so that leads me to think, if you’re in a happy place in your life you really should cherish it and enjoy it for as long as it lasts, for nothing lasts forever. Dating MasterDoc, who is 18 years older than me, I’m painfully aware that the odds are he’ll pass away before me. This freaks me out to no end, but I realize that I have to enjoy every minute I have with him. I should try not to get caught up in petty bullshit but instead treasure whatever time we have together, because you never know what could happen (something could happen tomorrow, something could happen to me to take me away first, who knows).

But all this change can have a positive effect as well. If you’re not in a happy place in your life, realize that it, too, will change. Bad relationships don’t last forever, crappy jobs can be left for better ones. While it’s sad that the wonderful things in life don’t last forever, it’s wonderful that the lousy things in life don’t last forever either. When I start a new job of course I worry that I won’t be happy there, but I keep in mind that if I hate it, I can always look for another job. I’ve had many wonderful close friends during my adult years so far, I’m not particularly close to any of my old friends at the moment. For a brief period of time, something is right for your life, but it can all change. You never know. But take comfort in the fact that something else wonderful will come along. Someone else will be your friend, someone else will love you and make you happy. (Or if you’re lucky and poly like myself, two people will love you and make you happy. *grin*) While change brings heartache sometimes, it also brings new and exciting adventures your way.

Ode to Lube

Perspectives are funny things. I had a friend in college become furious at me (and give me the silent treatment for a week) because I cracked a joke about using her ky jelly to stop her dorm room bed from squeaking. This was in front of her boyfriend and his friends. Apparently, according to her, I had totally embarrassed her boyfriend that I should suggest they need to use lube in their sex life. Uh huh. She made me apologize to him, and when I did he was all like, “What? Uh, ok. No problem.” Seems the issue was hers.

Fast forward to my life in the sex positive community, and people there use lube liberally, freely and openly. Lube is a staple of hot sex. Lube makes lovin’ better. lol Even when you want to lubricate sometimes you can’t or you can’t do it enough, no shame there. God, I’m glad I know people who are comfortable with their sexuality to not get in a tizzy over lube being mentioned! I love lube!

Average

The post I came across on futurecatlady.net got me thinking. In it she says, “I used to always read the kinky librarian and live through her adventures since I am not like her…at all.” Now the funny thing is, that while I’m not like your average person in the way of my being polyamorous, a swinger, and all the kinky sex, in most ways I’m pretty damn average. If you met me on the street you’d never suspect I’m the Kinky Librarian.

I’m average looking. Tall and chubby. Cute but not beautiful. I seem like the usual quiet nerdy, slightly indie type. (Not hip enough to be an indie “hipster.”) I’m a geek about music that I like. I’m a geek about library stuff. I’m kinda gothy but it’s all on the inside. I look really average. When I’m not getting up to perverse pleasures I watch movies (lately watching Jeeves and Wooster episodes, borrowed from the library of course), surf the web, hang out with friends, play games on the computer (MasterDoc has me totally hooked on Ticket to Ride). I like going out to dinner and occasionally going to a concert, although I’m feeling too old (or rather, my knees are feeling too old) to stand around for hours at concerts any more. I love British comedy and collect DVDs of wonderful Brit coms. (It all started with my exposure to Monty Python in high school.) I really like drinking tea, good tea. I’m a total freak when it comes to my teddy bear. (I still sleep with him and he’s got a name, and a personality to boot.) I’m quirky yes, but I tell you, if you met me on the street you’d never suspect.

I find that the people I run with are similar. Somewhat nerdy, really bright, very average looking people. You don’t have to be gorgeous and have a hot bod to be a successful slut. MasterDoc has women of all ages lining up to be with him and he’s an average-looking, chubby, 53 year old guy. But meanwhile he’s an exceptional person - both in intelligence and in being an all around wonderful guy, not to mention a Dom who gets me super hot on a regular basis. Davey is cute but average. D.S. is cute but average. Both are really wonderful to hang out with and make me smile. Davey is your regular nice guy who often finds himself left out in the cold as the bad boy types get the girls. I really go for average looking people who I feel a connection with. I don’t go for model types in the least. I’m intimidated by people who are too “hot” as I feel like why would they want to be with me? I’m really average.

I suppose where I’m not average is in my level sexual of inhibitions (very few). Or my love of exhibitionism. Or my penchant for pain and power exchange with my sex. But trust me, if you walked into my library and asked me a reference question you’d get a very professional, somewhat detached response and never suspect what I get up to in my off time. I’m just your average girl, who gets up to not so average things.

Neediness

Lately I’ve had bouts of neediness and I HATE feeling that way. I want to be an independent, I -don’t-need-no-one-else kinda gal. But I do need people. And sometimes I feel more needy than others. Last week MasterDoc talked about possibly canceling with me and immediately it set off this needy reaction. Of course once I discovered that he wasn’t talking about canceling entirely and I had some time to get used to the idea of spending time alone (Davey was away) I felt just fine. But initially. Oof. I went from normal to whiny in about 6 seconds. I hate that.

I wonder if there’s something about the D/s relationship that makes me needier in that instance. I don’t get so needy with Davey, not even when we were seeing each other long distance. I’d miss him terribly, and sometimes cry when we said goodbye for another month or so, but I kept myself busy otherwise. I think at this point I’m used to spending time with either Davey or MasterDoc so that when I have blocks of time to myself I get a little panicky. Sad state of affairs. At this point in my life I don’t really like spending time completely alone. I’m not much for groups of people, but hanging out with one or two people I’m close to is how I’m happiest. Somehow MasterDoc brings out the needy side of me, again I’m wondering if being someone’s sub makes you feel like you need them more in a sense. Talking with MasterDoc the other day he suggested that maybe it’s because he’s a stabilizing force in my life. But the thing is Davey is also really stabilizing for me as well. They’re very different but both provide some stability to my life.

At any rate, I’m determined to remain independent and not be a needy pain in the arse all the time. I should know better than to think I won’t be okay if I’m alone. I’ve spent a lot of time alone and I’ve always come out of it just fine. Even when I’m alone for a day or two I still have Davey and MasterDoc in my life. I really don’t know what my deal is. It’s driving me crazy.

Being a Sub, Part II

Earlier, I was thinking about the things that frustrate me as a sub. But that got me thinking about the reasons I choose to be a sub.

1. Being told what to do sexually really gets me hot.
2. Being used sexually gets me really hot.
3. I could use some more discipline in my life. I’m fairly self-indulgent.
4. Being beaten can be extremely relaxing. I feel very calm and composed after a good, hard spanking.
5. Being of service to someone can feel very good.
6. Having someone who watches out for me is comforting.
7. I can relax and slow down my always-speedy mind when I let someone else have control.
8. The very act of choosing to be sub is a way of exerting control over my life.
9. I like being the follower, rather than the leader, in bed.
10. It feels special to have someone choose to work with you and discipline you.
11. Pain leads to arousal and endorphin rushes.
12. Being denied, and then granted, orgasm feels incredible.
13. Having sex with someone because master has told me to is incredibly hot.

There’s probably more, and 1 and 9 are pretty much the same thing, but that’s what I could come up with at the moment.

Being a Sub

This blog is frequently a place for me to work out things I’m thinking - kinda like talking out loud to oneself. Not all entries are written with an audience in mind. This one is not. It’s just me musing. (Don’t want MasterDoc to assume that I’m complaining because I’m not, I’m just pondering.)

So now I have my first real dom in my life. It’s been interesting to discover the things about a D/s relationship that I love and the things I don’t like so much. I have to admit that I’m mostly a bedroom submissive - sub in my sex life but pretty damn stubborn and independent outside of that. The biggest challenge has been submitting in ways that happen away from a sex scene. While in the middle of a scene I have no trouble following directions, in fact, I get off on it. In my day to day life, I start feeling rebellious. Granted, I’m so into being the good (albeit sexually naughty) girl throughout my life that I don’t rebel, I just ponder what the heck I’m doing when I hold off masturbating because I don’t have MasterDoc’s permission. It also frustrates me that I don’t have autonomy in choosing my sex partners any more. Granted, my rampant horniness could probably use a little reining in now and then, but it’s not in my nature to leave these decisions up to someone else. This is the difficult part of being a sub, for me.

It’s not all bad, while I wish I wasn’t under orders to walk to work twice a week it really is good for me to do so. This is adding something clearly good to my life. And because of the way my relationships are set up I’m free to have sex with Davey whenever I wish - so I do have some sexual freedom. But sometimes a girl just wants to masturbate before falling asleep at night. Sometimes it’s not about the sexual so much as the comfort and relaxation. Sometimes you’re just too tired for partnered sex but a quick rubbing one out is fine. Of course, when I was thinking about this last night I was also too tired to get out of bed and text MasterDoc for permission. So I skipped the masturbation.

The funny thing is, while this frustrates me to no end it also makes me a little hot. There is something hot, for me, in having someone else in control. I just wonder how much control I’m comfortable with giving away. In some respects it’s therapeutic to give up control and have it work out positively - getting back into bdsm after the assault was harder than regular sex because of the control issues. Having control taken from you is different from giving it consensually, but it’s scary to give control even consensually after someone’s taken it from you without your consent. But of course having D/s play that leaves me happy and satisfied helps me relinquish control more easily and with less stress.

When you trust the person in control of you it releases you - frees up your mind. Of course, I like thinking for myself, so therein lies the contradiction. I guess I like both things. As usual I’m a bundle of contradictions. I can be both shy and outgoing. I can be really quiet and really talkative. I can be extremely patient and extremely impatient. And I like being in control and giving up control. I guess this is why I ultimately consider myself a switch who leans more towards being sub. I feel submissive far more often than I feel dominant, but I do have my dominant moments. Actually, I think independent is a better word than dominant as it’s more about being in control of myself and not other people. I’m not particularly dominant.

While I sometimes get frustrated by being sub, I often enjoy it. I thought I’d really dislike things like doing little chores at MasterDoc’s place (clearing the dishes, cleaning up after play) but there’s something nice about serving in that capacity - just like it’s nice to do things at home for Davey. It feels more about being in service to someone you care about and less about being someone’s servant in the negative way. Being a servant isn’t always a demeaning proposition. I can see the honor in being in service to someone. This is why having a dom you respect is key. When you respect your dom it’s a joy to help out. Sometimes my desire to be lazy comes into the picture, but I can say that MasterDoc has never asked me to do anything bad or harmful. Frustrating, yes - it might make me get off my lazy ass when I’d rather be sitting down. But nothing that will cause me harm. Not having an orgasm is frustrating, but it won’t kill me. He’s proven himself worthy of my trust and respect.

It’s going to be interesting to see where this journey takes me. While I sometimes feel frustrated, being a sub is something I’ve long wanted to do. And most of the time it makes me really happy. It’s definitely going to be a learning experience.

In some respects I chafe at the little things I’ve given up control over. But in some respects it feels really good to have someone rein me in. Giving up control can be liberating, if that makes sense. Anyway, it makes sense to me.

Ok I think my train of thought has just derailed. As I said, this is just me thinking out loud about a bunch of things.

White Trash Wedding

On Saturday I went with Davey to his cousin’s wedding. I was feeling a bit tentative about going, because I know that much of his family (including his parents who we were staying with) are very conservative and religious. However, the bride was apparently from the side of the family that’s not so conservative… in fact you could say that her and her friends were pretty “white trash.”

Thankfully the wedding had alcohol and dancing, as I needed a drink after dealing with his parents and relatives. They’re very, very nice people, but his mother is exhausting the way she talks constantly. Also I’m always worried that I need to stick to innocuous topics so I don’t get his parents out of their very limited comfort zone. Thankfully they didn’t say anything to me about Davey and I getting married, because I really couldn’t have held back and not said, “I don’t ever plan to get married.” This would not have sat well with them. His parents don’t drink alcohol (or even cook with it) and they don’t dance, so I felt like a rebel with my one rum and coke at the reception and the time I got up to do the chicken dance with Davey’s Aunt and other attendees. Still, that’s as far as my rebellion gets with them as I really would rather not rock the boat. Davey and I slept on separate floors of their house, and I was totally okay with respecting this choice. They’re the antithesis of me, but I can live and let live as long as they do the same. They’ve gotten more comfortable with me and Davey’s mother actually introduced me as his girlfriend for the first time (although he said that she nearly choked on the words). This is a vast improvement after the looks she was giving me when we got Davey’s stuff from their house when he and I first moved in together. Ooh, if looks could kill!

So the wedding guests… you could say they fell into about three categories. Morbidly obese (one woman was about as big around as she was tall, and she wasn’t short!), young white trash in somewhat-to-very inappropriate clothes for a wedding, and kinda average people. Some (snarky) observations from the crabby librarian:

- tattoos look cool until you’re in a wedding dress. Actually, ultimately no one there had any particularly impressive tattoos, they were all pretty mediocre. If you’re going to ink up your body, why not make sure it’s a work of art?
- wearing a pink polo shirt, high-water linen pants and Timberlands boots with fancy sunglasses is not the look to rock at a wedding. Who the hell did that guy think he was? It was definitely the white trash/ghetto version of “classy.”
- there was a couple there that we were sure had to have a employer/employee relationship… meaning I’m sure if we asked the guy how much for the girl he’d have a quick answer. Now I have nothing against someone earning a few bucks that way, but when you look like a pimp and a hooker at a wedding you really need to re-think your choice of outfits. Her skirt was so short it was nearly a belt, her cheap knit top bared her midriff and she wore stiletto-heeled boots. The African-American guy she was with was dressed in a suit but he also wore a straw hat with a black band… very pimperific. An acceptable look on a street corner, not so acceptable at someone’s wedding.
- I’m wondering if orthodontia hasn’t come to that part of Pennsylvania as the teeth on the guests were something else.
- Guests of a certain age seemed to all have a multitude of children with each other. The groom had his 8 or 9 year old son in the wedding party, then there was the bride’s son with her first baby daddy, who was in attendance with his pregnant girlfriend and their very young son. And also the bride and groom’s daughter they had together two years ago. And these people are maybe in their mid 20’s. I realize that some people think that having a bunch of kids is just wonderful, but I wonder what else they’re doing with their lives besides forgetting the contraceptives and sleeping with each other. I felt like I should hand out condoms and give demonstrations on how to use them.

Ultimately, I survived, and making snarky observations to Davey was how I got through. I kept him laughing through much of the reception.