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Archive for the ‘Nice Gifts’ Category

This time last week, Type Geek’s brother was slowly bleeding to death, kept alive by constant blood transfusions. His hospital has a dedicated out of the box thinker and suddenly his brother found himself with his own version of Gregory House, insane genius. Minus the drug addiction, limp, and snark. So, with a Hail Mary surgery that concluded with brother stuffed to the gills with self dissolving gauze, Dr. Not House was able to slow down the bleeding long enough to allow the body to start clotting on its own and retaining some of the blood being pumped into him. He is still in the hospital, he still has a huge upward battle, and a bigger war after this fight is won, but currently he is stable.

I felt defenseless. I love the Geek so much and felt like I needed to do something, but there wasn’t anything I could really do, except listen. Except be available. Except…

So, I cooked. I made him a dozen small individual Italian Easter Breads to take with him to Easter dinner with his family. I brought him fresh Tuberose, blooming for such a short time and only available in New England for such a short window of time, they smell like heaven, they smell like my parfum. I also bought myself some and placed the bouquet in a pitcher in my bedroom so I can wake up to their smell each morning.

Friday night, after finishing up the breads, I took a shower and grabbed a cab at midnight, placed the warm treats on his table, the flowers in his sink, and crawled into bed next to him. I was asleep, spooned against his back, my hand resting on his forearm and nose nestled into the crook of his neck, in less than 10 minutes. It was warm and soft and felt like home.

Type Geek is my just right. Like Goldilocks… I have tried the beds that are too hard and too soft, the porridge that is too hot and too cold, and the men and women who are just too big or too small… in many ways, Type Geek is my just right. Sure, there is no perfection. Our schedules don’t allow us to spend more than once a week with each other. Sex doesn’t happen three times a week like I would love. Still scarred from his past two relationships, he isn’t ready to swim in the waters that I dove into, but he dangles his toes on the edge and smiles as he talks to me while I swim. For now, that is fine. For now, I am happy just to have those toes.

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An update on the day… Sunday July 10, 2010.

Spain wins first World Cup EVER!

Cooper Fiennes sobs from joy, then sadness. Being in the United States, so far from friends, family and countrymen was amplified post win. Then, once the floodgates opened, it was apparent that he was also crying over the loss of his marriage and all of the change in his life. I believe he is lonely, in a way that friends aren’t able to reach into and fill at the moment. It was immensely endearing to se him so vulnerable. All I wanted to do was hold him, but we were at his colleague’s house. The woman whom the strange dynamic exists.

A question in my mind, since I had heard that Spanish men weren’t particularly blessed in physical endowment, however he is, was answered. It was a sideline conversation and when Cooper Fiennes mentioned that his great-grandmother was Sephardic Jew… it clicked. Once again, Hung Like a Jew is true. Of course, the hottie with the beautiful cock turns out to have some Jewish running through the most important veins of his body. I should have known that there was a reasonable explanation for it, besides meer blessed fluke.

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Why do I find it obnoxious and trite if an american gives me a red rose, or any rose for that matter, however, if a european does it, suddenly it’s charming?! Cooper Fiennes was running a few minutes late so he showed up with a single red rose for me. Normally that would induce gag reflex, but from him, it seems sweet and endearing. Did I mention how hot he is? Damn, he is SO hot. However, I digress….

We had two hours to kill before our film, so we wandered over to a local restaurant and had some sangria. He isn’t too fond of sangria it appears, where as it is one of three quintessential summer drinks in my world. Because you are wondering, these are: Mojitos, Sangria and Prosecco. He said that, in Spain, sangria is a cheap drink that young people drink. Obviously he has never had my top shelf sangria that breaks the bank, and any inhibitions one might have had at drink #1. Conversation flows rather easily with him; educated but highbrow, indie without being hipster. He makes me laugh without trying. I enjoy that ease.

At 9, we wandered over to the cinema. I abandoned him at the ticket window to choose the film, as I picked up some overpriced Dasani from the refreshment station. $4 for a $1 bottle of water?! Eeek. After entering our particular theatre, we joked about the abundance of people. In truth, there were 2 couples in the entire showing. Us and Them. This city is a sad excuse for what a city wants to be. Sigh. The previews were great, a new film coming soon by Jean-Pierre Jeunet plus a hysterical film with Julianne Moore and Annette Benning as a long married lesbian couple. During the previews we would occasionally whisper something, but mainly we watched the screen. I wondered if he would try to touch me, he didn’t. Is he truly attracted to me or politely attracted to me because I am present and he is looking for a way to fill the time? One can never tell with short-term residents. Once the movie started we focused forward with but only a few comments here and there. Films are always hard dates, you lose touch of someone during that time. Rather than connecting, you are disconnecting. I don’t usually pick cinema dates at the beginning, however, it was his request.

After the movie ended I found that I had a little over an hour before the last train. Why leave early when you can stare at and chat up such a handsome and charmingly sweet man for another hour?! We wandered into a local bar and ordered a couple of cocktails. Mine, as per usual, being more interesting than my dates. I had an old-fashioned made with aged rum, while Cooper Fiennes had, essentially, a screwdriver. Simple, classic, and unexpectedly boring. I guess that when you look like that, sound like that, and are, well… that, you can drink a vodka and oj. The bartender was awesome and he spent some time chatting with us before I realized, hmm, I think my train leaves in 10 minutes. The bartender corrected me, the train leaves in 3 minutes. Oh SHIT. Cooper Fiennes paid the tab and we rushed out the door, a moment of panic as the train station gates were locked. A breath of relief as we realized it was for the opposite direction that I was headed. Fingers crossed and breath held as we crossed the street to the other station egress. Please Please Please… the gates were just about to close as I walked up. I turned to him, grabbed him and gave him the worlds fastest kiss, I then ran down the stairs and, over my shoulder, gave a sad eyed “SORRY” as I vanished behind the gates and onto the train.

I then texted him as I was sitting on the train, ” I just JUST made it! Kiss me again…soon. Please. 😉 ” He responded that he had a wonderful night, the last 5 seconds being the best part, albeit too short and that he would be kissing me again…soon. NICE! I guess the answer is leaning more towards his actually being attracted to me. Excellent. I rode the rest of the way with a funny smirk and then felt really naughty as I realized that in less than 24 hours, I will have had a date with Cooper Fiennes, have had lunch with Brooklyn and will be having coffee with Type Geek afterwards, as he is working from home, 3 blocks from where Brooklyn and I are having lunch. Wow, either I am a Lifetime movie in the making or an episode of Sex and the City. Who would have thought 10 years ago, that this would be me?

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I had the birthday that almost wasn’t. The night before I had met up with a friend for Pho, knowing I was sick, he offered to drive up to the curb and pick me up, then drive me the few blocks to my condo.I had all of my belongings in my hand, including my phone and walked 8 feet to his car. I remembered looking at my phone in my hand in the car. I then hug him goodbye and get out of the car and walk the 8 feet to my door, unlock it, place everything on the chair next to the door and walk my dog. When I got back in I went for my phone so that I could call Brooklyn back in order to coordinate our plans for my bday but my phone wasn’t there. Hell, it was in his car. I had a friend online texting the friend whose car it was in, only to have that friend respond repeatedly that it wasn’t in there. I’m not crazy, days later and I still say that eventually it is going to show up in his car. Now, here is where it get’s funny. As I am talking to Brooklyn via internet IM, a storm is coming through and wipes out his power. So, he is available only by phone and I am available only by email. Well, surely his power will be on by the morning, right? No, it wasn’t. He sent a text message to my email letting me know his phone battery was dying and I responded by exclaiming that he needed to get out of his town and find someplace with power to recharge!!!

It’s 4 pm before I get a new phone, which before mail in rebate, kills my budget. As soon as it is charged I send-off a text to Brooklyn hoping that all is going to run smoothly. The little alert button makes its special little noise and success, we are reconnected! The day’s follies are yet to be over though! I rush home, meet my last client and jump in the shower. We plan on his picking me up around 6, but he gets lost. This seems to be something he does quite often. He recently called me from Brooklyn, completely lost and needing my mapquest help. It’s endearing, it doesn’t bother me. As someone who runs always 15 minutes late, it buys me time in getting ready! He calls me at 6:30 and again, I pull out the mapquest and talk him through the route. I hang up when he is 4 minutes from me, a straight line of 8 blocks. 15 minutes later he is still not at my house. Did he evaporate on the bridge? Finally he shows up, turns out he got a work call that required his urgent attention and needed to pull over to write some things down. I finally get into the family van at 7. I don’t care about any plans other than hanging out with him, so the evening is already a success in my mind.

He had said that he wanted to take me out to dinner at least, so I decided I was craving mussels and french fries and we headed to a place that has a non traditional approach, cooking the mussels in a Thai coconut milk and lime broth. Yummers! There was a half hour wait by the time we got there, after getting lost, of course. We walked down to a little bookstore and wandered around for 20 min to pass the time waiting for our table. He looked at a book on Gnomes, a favorite of mine from childhood, while I bought a book about the Bronx Zoo, printed in 1913. The restaurant called us and we headed over. We had plantains to start and then our meals came, Brooklyn had never had french fries dipped in mayo, which is the only way to have them with mussels, and he had never had mussels. Yay, two firsts eliminated with one meal!

What to do next? It was only 10. I had read that there was a midnight viewing of a 1974 sexploitation film at a local theatre that night, so we decided campy and hilarious was the way to go. With two hours to spare we walked to a local cafe and sat and drank tea for an hour, only to be kicked out at 11 when they were closing. PLEASE, closing at 11 pm on a Friday night? I miss NYC. We walked to the car and drove over to the neighborhood where the movie was showing. At that hour, in this town parking was easy and the theatre said we didn’t need to pre purchase tickets because there was no way it would sell out. Okay, 45 minutes to burn until movie time. There was a cute little bar a block down the street and tables available, craziness. Again, with this being a Friday and a ghost town. WTF?! We cozied up at a table and made mention to each other that we are that obnoxious pda couple at bars and restaurants. The sheer amount of times we kissed across the dinner table or I fed him a mussel or french fry by hand. Ha, oh well. We looked at the clock. Shit shit movie starts at 12:30, it’s 12:32.

We walked quickly to the theatre and made it just as they were locking the door, phew! He got the tickets, I bought the peanut m&m’s and we settled into one of the last rows. The theatre staff wasn’t joking. This particular theatre seats 350 people, at least. There were maybe 15 people there, total. The film was hysterical. The acting, the clothes, the soundtrack, all of it was pure 70’s brilliance. I fed Brooklyn m&m’s while we kissed and laughed our asses off. At one point I got up to use the rest room. Upon coming back I straddled him for a minute in his chair for a few minutes of inappropriate public theatre kissing. It was fantastic. Have I mentioned that he is awesome?

By the time the movie was over it was after 2. He needed to get home. I needed to get home. But I also really needed to kiss on him for a bit in a way that was far too intimate to do in public. When we were sitting in the van getting ready to go, I moved all the items from between the seats away so I could kneel there. The seats are so far apart that you can’t sit in your seats and kiss from there. It’s as if he is in Boise and I am in Charlotte. We made out, 98% chastely as we were on a main street, for an hour. He slid my hand down at one point and may I note, knowing what I am missing is not making missing it any easier. Why did we say we are being chaste and waiting? Oh yes, because we are masochists.I am not sure how much longer I can wait without climbing walls. We need to either reduce the amount of times we see each other each week and do so only in public places or we need to, in the great words of Marvin Gaye, get it on.

When he brought me home I was exhausted, yet intensely awake. I straddled him in the car and we kissed for 10 more minutes before we said goodnight. Really, I was a lesbian for 12 years? Who is this boy? He’s killing me slowly but super friggin’ fantastically.

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Can I just start this post by saying, NO, I most certainly did NOT get fucked last night. SIGH. Future Lawyer is a sweet, romantic Rilke loving, red rose buying, back massage giving ivy league preppy. It’s so cute and if his lips weren’t so good, it would be too cloying for me. Generally, I would be frowning upon such behavior, as it has always felt so trite and contrived, however Future Lawyer is genuinely that guy. The Rilke on his bookcase is well-worn, not placed there just to impress the ladies. He has cried during more episodes of NPR’s This American Life for god’s sake than I have watched romantic comedies.

He met my dog and I at the train station and we quickly walked over to Starbucks for something hot to keep the bitter cold at bay for the walk back to the dorms. Coffee in hands, we  wandered through the maze of university buildings until we reached his Hall. As we walked in, he gave me flowers. My first internal reaction was that of mild discomfort. I have never liked to be given roses by anyone because they always seemed so formulaic and pedestrian. (Pedestrian is a word my ex fiancé used. I actually find it to be one of the most insulting words. She once said how much she hated that our problems were so pedestrian. What did she want? Some epic dilemma and great struggle?) I took a breath, shut down my inner dialogue and looked at him and how sweet, kind, AND sincere he was and then kicked my inner dialogue in the shin and put it in time out for the night. He hung my coat, poured me some wine and showed me around his suite, which was roughly the size of a small NYC one bedroom, minus a kitchen. We then picked out Slumdog Millionaire, since neither of us had seen it, and curled up on the couch in the dark. Occasional kisses were had. Wine was drunk, Michel Cluizel Grand Noir 85% chocolate was consumed and the dog was walked far enough to find my Future Lawyer a slice of pizza at midnight.

When we walked back into the suite, he disappeared for a moment to use mouth wash after the pizza. I really didn’t mind. I like spicy pepperoni. I laughed at him and wiped the wet bit off his lip. His embarrassment quickly departed as I started to kiss him. Remember, we were kicked out of a mall last week for making out. He may be schmaltzy, preppy and shorter than what I have gone for BUT he has a set of lips on him that just don’t quit. We kissed for a few minutes but then were distracted by the undergrads screaming outside his door. Music was a necessity, and somehow Mahler ended up being chosen.  As the music intensified, so did our kissing and eventually he backed me into his bedroom and locked my dog out with the door. She was horrified as she isn’t used to being separated from me by a closed-door. The lights went down and the next 45 minutes ranked up there as one of the hottest make out sessions in my history. Thank you Mahler. Eventually the composition changed however and it started to ruin the groove. I gave him the link to my online Trip Hop Playlist and ran into the living room to grab a hair-clip.

I patted my sad puppy on the head, dug in my purse and grabbed a hair clip. Prior to coming over I had tried to wax my legs a bit, so they wouldn’t be so bad on the likely chance that we ended up in contorted naked positions. I couldn’t do anything about the Brazilian. Those are NOT DIY jobs. I also bought a box of condoms, just in case. I know that most men purchase grocery store or drug store condoms, so I stopped by the sex shop and bought some Kimono Micro Thin japanese ones. When they make thin condoms, why do men go for regular? It’s better to be prepared and it isn’t the mans responsibility to worry about my sexual health and wish to stay childless, so I tossed one in my jeans pocket as I head back into the bedroom, hair pulled up for better long-haired girl on top make out action.

Back in the bedroom we find our groove again with the help of Morcheeba. Now, my pants come off, as do his and then he says it, after I am so turned on that I can’t see straight. He tells me that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for us to have sex tonight. He wants to wait a little longer. AAACK! I am wearing one article of clothing, sprawled out with mussed up hair, looking at him in shock and disbelief through sexually charged eyes and thinking he might be kidding. He might start laughing at any moment and just take me. But he doesn’t, and I whimper, and we continue to make out for a while but some of the sheen is gone.

I stayed the night and I slept like I do at home, nude. If you want to wake up to a naked woman whom you have called gorgeous several times over the last 12 hours and feel tempted, that’s your fault buddy. Within an hour of waking up, we were out the door and parting ways at the train. I made a quick detour and grabbed an americano for the ride.

On the train ride home I was incredibly, ridiculously, crazy horny. I texted my Internet Sex man from NYC and made a fleeting playful remark about how horny I was and  why wasn’t he local? Surprisingly, I received a message back within moments. Apparently he found the timing of my message fitting as he had just been thinking of me. He checked Skype and I wasn’t there and assumed that he would be having a solo session. I laughed when the next text message was a photo of his erection. He has the perfect match of voyeur and exhibitionist traits to my own and along with my Pac NW man, they are my sexually deviant saviors on this journey. When I am not getting laid locally, I can sign into Skype and get some virtual action with a non stranger. It’s a wonderful set up that ends in my napping happily and a bit less frustrated than I had a few hours earlier. Sweet live kisses and hot internet sex. The world was a beautiful place today.

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I woke up with a score of things on my to-do list but realized that I desperately wanted brunch. I haven’t had brunch in months, perhaps even a year. So, I am trolling around and looking for someone to have brunch with, when he pops up on line. Now, the amusing and uh oh moment comes when I realize  AFTER I asked him if he wants to have brunch with me, that I don’t know which guy this is. I panic. I am looking through all the dating sites I use for an email that correlates to his screen name on googlechat. AACK. I have no idea. He calls me when he is 15 minutes from my door and I am hoping he says his name when I answer the phone. No, he doesn’t. I’m scrolling through our googlechat history for some clue. NOTHING. Panic sets in, what if he is someone who I was just talking to out of boredom? What if he is fat and unattractive? Please, just be nice and not smell bad. “It’s only brunch,” I say to myself.

When he arrives I make several notes, nice dependable car, good height, of average build, handsome in an interestingly average but not kind of way. He has a Heath Ledger facial thing. Not a Heath exact appearance but more of a similarity that could put him in the family tree. Relieved. I still didn’t recognize him from any of the profiles yet and was slightly panicked and embarrassed. What if he mentions something and I can’t place him and end up looking like an asshole?

We made our way into the restaurant and as we were sitting down, he mentioned his 6-year-old son. OF COURSE!!! This is the dad who I yelled at for not putting any really clear photos of his face but he did have an adorable one of his son, which made me think that there was no way he could be that bad, with a son that cute. Phew! With that, it all came back. Umm, except his name!!! Ooops! So, we had great conversation throughout brunch. He exhibits an immediate sense of comfort and familiarity that makes you feel at ease and as if you have known him a very long time. Accident prone as a child, he always landed with his face, and provided me a detailed history of his childhood through the various scars. He felt like an old friend, without feeling too friend-like. At bill time I pulled out my card because this WASN’T a date. It was a total spontaneous googlechat invite so that I would have someone to hang out with as I ate my egg covered poutine. Mmmmm, poutine. Only, he wouldn’t let me pay. At all. Ha. So, he took control of the situation and defined it as a date with his actions. Good job Heath’s Cousin!

After we left we decided to walk around a bit and get some fresh air. We walked a couple miles and stopped in a small Tibetan shop that is going out of business. I bought a woodblock for my wall and an antique necklace that was originally $239 but that the owner gave to me for $30. How amazing is that? We talked with the owner of the shop about The Dalai Lama, whom the shop owner has met several times and of course admires greatly.

We were only a black from my favorite café, so I directed us that way for a decaf hot cup of goodness for me and a chai for him, which I discreetly and quickly picked up the tab for as a thank you for brunch. Coffee I can afford. Sushi, not really. My favorite employees were off today and the kids that were working were a combination of hung over and generally exhausted, yet they still could muster the enthusiasm to chat me up a bit and humor me when I asked them,”What up, yo?”. Coming from a mid thirties uber femme white gal who looks far more conventional than she truly is, perhaps is worth a dog eared head tilt.

Heath’s Cousin and I walked back to the car and continued our great conversation on a range of topics and managed to somehow miss our turn early on, causing us a 20 minute delay in getting me home. Perhaps this was his intention, but honestly, I think he’s just a bit directionally challenged. We finally found our way to my condo and sat outside in the car and talked for about 10 more minutes. As I was getting ready to say goodbye, he told me he had something for me. I reacted with a mild dog eared head tilt myself. Apparently, when in the Tibetan store, he bought me a ring with Tibetan symbols on it. He guessed it would probably be too large but he meant it as a gesture of thanks for such a nice afternoon. Honestly, the sweetest guy I have gone out with yet.

Sexual chemistry? Too early to tell. I also have my little crushes on the blueberry soda loving, wanted to be a fireman when he grew up Musician/Writer/Assoc. Prod guy and the Future Lawyer who I almost got arrested for committing indecent acts with in a closed mall. There are also some other men in the pipeline…. so, who knows. This exploration is a day by day adventure and today it ended on a note of sweetness.

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