Introducing Bastet in Each Day

  • Nov. 9, 2022, 8:48 p.m.
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So I’ve been trying to come up with a better moniker for my friend from my first-ish entry. I kept calling her, “her”, because I couldn’t figure out an appropriate name for her. I even asked M for suggestions because he is a master wordsmith. No joy.

Well, this is her name’s origin story, so to speak.

A million years ago I was into Egyptian Gods and Goddesses. I had 3 Egyptian statues on our mantle - Osiris, Anubis - both gods of death in their own right - and Bastet - representing femininity, pleasure and fertility. While time has passed I still feel a kinship to these three Goddes.

I decided to try a “name generator” which I’ve done in the past for character names when writing fiction, just to get the juices flowing, so I put in a few parameters, female, non diminutive, but otherwise a free for all.

What name is the very first one it suggests?


Goddess of Pleasure.

I literally yelled. And then I told M, and he was like, “there’s nothing more fitting”. I said, “I kind of have to use this now, don’t I?” He said, “obviously”. I can’t write that word without hearing it in Alan Rickman’s voice.

So, she is Bastet.
It feels a little grand, but if we can’t aggrandize our friends, what are we even doing in life?

Yesterday after work I came home, ate lunch, and started tidying the house in anticipation of her arrival. I sent her a message saying to come any time, that if I didn’t answer the door, the back door was open, I was about to take a shower. Except through a combination of tub cleaner and conditioner I managed to fall in the shower, whacking myself pretty good off the sides of the tub. I was stepping back in after getting my razor, which I’d forgotten outside the shower, and as my back foot lifted, it was like my front foot was suddenly hanging in the air, and I was falling. Thankfully I fell towards the back of the tub, so I didn’t hit the faucet. But still, I was hurt, stunned and full of adrenaline. I turned off the shower and sat there until I could figure out just how hurt I was. Fortunately it was just bruises, damn I was lucky.

Unfortunately this set the tone for the night, for me.

M came home shortly after, and we all sat in the reading room chatting before we realized we should probably eat something. We talked about ordering in, but ended up making cashew chicken instead. Bastet had never had it, and while mine is probably a bastardization of the real thing, I think it’s delicious and she liked it too.

After dinner, we talked some more, and then we went upstairs. I’d bashed my knee pretty good and my arm was really hurting, so it hindered my ability to participate as fully as I like to, but it was still an excellent evening of bodies and mouths and bits and hands. There is nothing quite like laying together in the afterglow, lazily petting each other, drunk on touch, and talking about important things.

Unfortunately it was a work night for me, and the morning shift starts early. So I extricated myself from the pile and snuck off to bed. I contentedly listened to them whispering in the dark before putting ear plugs in and passing the fuck out.

I fully expected to be a train wreck this morning, knowing what the evening was intended to hold. I did not expect to be a train wreck because I fell in the fucking shower.

I met up with M and Bastet after work, we got Harvey’s and ate it under the bridge. We tried to go for a walk on a trail in the area, but apparently it’s already closed for the winter, which is bullshit.
So we drove Bastet back to her car, she had to head back to her parent’s place to help her mom and spend time with her.

This afternoon and evening has been super chill. M and I surfing in our separate rooms, watching some shows together, I’ve been writing. We’re both pretty dopey, but also sort of floating around in a haze, talking about the last 24 hours, and I know for me, priming myself for Friday night, which will be sexy, no doubt.

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