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Cooper Fiennes got a visit from his wife on Sunday. I mentioned this, right? That he is technically married? She left him for a myriad of her own reasons, mostly it seems, she just wasn’t in love with him the way he loved her. It wasn’t his decision and he misses her madly. We talked about his love for her one night while we were taking a break during sex. We both believe in the hearts ability to expand so that it loves multiple people over a lifetime. That love doesn’t cease to exist for someone merely because the relationship is now over, or the status is complicated. We believe that the more one loves, the more capable or love one is.

I don’t expect to hear from him for a few days. I believe he needs some time to mourn. She is moving to NYC, a dual citizen, she has that freedom. Her trip to see him on Sunday was one to discuss logistics such as the sale of the car, the financials, the signing of the divorce papers once one or both travel back to Barcelona. Their physical location makes the divorce harder because it needs to be filed in Spain. Each day he goes without the split being finalized, is a day he is unable to fully move on.

I made myself available in anyway that could be helpful. I told him that if he needed a friend later in the day, a lover, or just a silent fuck, let me know.  He texted me in the early evening letting me know that he had opted to play soccer for 3 hours in the heat after she left, that he was emotionally spent and exhausted and just without words, but that he would resurface soon. I’m not concerned. Our situation is one without the emotional complications of a traditional relationship. We merely are, what we are. Until that is an issue or complication, we are happily floating in our little sexually charged private world, away from the trappings of what if’s and if only’s.

I have been meeting a lot of divorcee’s this last 6 months. Are there more people getting divorced or is it just that I have hit the age group where people who married young are suddenly running for cover? Had I married my ex fiance, we would be divorced by now. She was a train wreck. thank god for small miracles.

This week’s web-syndicated post is running a day late due to technical issues with our syndicater www.thenewgay.net . They are back up and running smoothly now, so check them out for more great queer coverage!

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 Of course. That’s become the motto of the moment. It covers so many things and is, quite simply, the most appropriate response to most occurrences in life. Last week was a slow dragged out week of almosts. Type Geek and I tried late night naughtiness 3 nights in a row, with each night becoming a huge FAIL. Due to his work schedule, family issues, and his travel to Europe, he wasn’t able to make it work except for one night. That one night, however, he fell asleep without unlocking the door for me first. SIGH. Now, he is in Europe, drinking good beer, eating better food, and hopefully relaxing more than he has been able to in months.

Meanwhile, I was looking forward to the spare time so I could get to know Cooper Fiennes a bit more. I wasn’t sure what that meant yet exactly, BUT, I did know that it would be easier to explore it without the concerns of scheduling around Type Geek. I adore Type Geek. He is comfortable to be around, sweet and does this thing with his nose when he is in thought that just makes me die. It’s cute and endearing BUT also kind of a turn on because it’s so humanizing. I look forward to spending time with him when I do, but it is easy to make him a priority amongst my dates, as he has been around longer. The night he flew out I had dinner with C.F. and we just walked around the city for hours afterwards. He has lived here for a little bit now, but, there are many areas that he is unfamiliar with. Nicely played were his spontaneous attacks of kisses in doorways and exterior alcoves on a chilly night. We parted ways at the last train and I definitely was wanting more.

The next night he asked if I wanted to come have wine. I declined. I didn’t want to come over so soon, I knew where I might try to lead it, so I said I would rain check. He made a snarky comment about how his religion doesn’t allow him to have wine with the same beautiful woman two nights in a row anyway and he is, of course, very religious. So, it’s good I declined. I let him get away with corny ridiculous comments because he is always saying them in jest and with a smirk that forgives many things. Instead of an intense make out session with him, I stopped at Whole Foods, then wandered home for dinner and some writing. The next morning is when everything went WRONG.

My website was acting strangely and so I put in a support ticket. This support ticket led to a discussion of upgrades and an agreement on a pay-per-upgrade fee with my hosting site. As I looked around for my credit card so that I could pay the invoice, it was no where to be found. The day before a 3 day federal holiday weekend and now I need to get a new license, new social security card, new bank card, new LIFE. Ugh.I spent 2 hours in the Motor Vehicle offices getting my new license, the upside being that they allowed me to retake the god awful photo from ten years before. I was unsuccessful in the Social Security Card but I was successful in getting the bank to provide me cash without an id! Yes! I texted Cooper Fiennes about my day and said quite simply, “I need a drink”. He responded that he would think up something fun, so I should come meet him after walking my dog.

 That evening there was wandering around, there were cocktails, Indian food, and when he asked if I wanted to go home or…. I interrupted by saying, “I’ll take a cab, let’s go make out”. We spent 2 hours chatting at his place, showing each other photos on Facebook, and staying a foot apart at all times. Were we pilgrims? Amish? WTF is with this distance thing? I think we were both trying to access the situation. Eventually I laid across his bed as I read something he was showing me, hoping that my horizontal position would inspire some decision making on his part. Did it EVER!! I was fully planning a night of MAKING OUT, but, I brought condoms JUST IN CASE. I also had no idea of size, so I brought regular and large versions of the Kimono MicroThins. 4 hours of awesome sex later, we fell asleep to the sun coming up and birds chirping outside the window. Iced Coffee, random street kisses and sideways smirks were how we ended the morning as we came into the city together and went off to do our separate things.

On Sunday I decided to do some housework and hang out in my general home area. AS I was trying to open the jammed window, I slipped and ended up falling into the window just enough to spider web it. Anyone ever try to get a replacement glass repair done on a window over a holiday weekend?I opted to wait until midweek on that but Cooper Fiennes was insistent on my meeting up after his picnic so that he could cheer me up. Coffee and a late dinner mixed with back rubs and kisses in the public park were not just what THAT doctor ordered but also what really cured my grr. We said ciao at the last train and headed our separate ways, only after seeing a naked man in the hotel window 4 floors above the train station. This set both of our minds wandering and resulted in several hours of gchat sexual confessions once we both arrived at our homes. I slept 4 hours, fully committed to spending Monday getting the work done around the house that I said I would, only CF texted me at noon asking if I was hungry. So, brunch at 2:30 turned into ice cream at 4 and his taking an hour rowing class while I walked around a bit. Then we met back up, had a not so late, for us, dinner, and more back rubs and make outs on our park bench before the last train. I wanted to go home with him. I also wanted to curse mother nature since my period showed up yesterday, eliminating the endless sex I was planning for the week. Sigh.

I’m having moments of feeling guilty for carrying on with two men at one time. Why should I though? I’m not exclusive with either. I haven’t lied, I am practicing safe sex and, other than the annoying douche bag former lawyer guy from a few weeks ago, these are not one night stands. These are men whom I am genuinely interested in and enjoy their company. One of the situations has a clearly defined expiration date due to the nature of his research and his return to Barcelona. The other? Well, we shall see what becomes of that. I’m not going to be the one to have that conversation about exclusivity, because I don’t want to answer the question when it shows up. Avoidance and a lot of weaving and ducking… those will be my weapon, should the conversation be brought up by Type Geek.

The holiday weekend is over. There are over 50 wildfires in Quebec and I wonder if the Mayan’s might be right about 2012. If so, I plan on living as much as possible between now and then. If that means some sexy Spaniard and some orally fixated musician turned designer at this juncture in time, then, of course, bring it on!

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I arrived first, on time even, which is a rarity for me. I sat by the fireplace reading the NY Times Arts section as I waited. The bartender, a youngish musician type, made me a surprise rum cocktail because they were out of the usual cider I mixed it with.  I heard someone come in and ask where the bar was before he realized that it was right in front of him. I looked up and smiled, greeted him warmly and started to hear voices in my head. Hmmm. He grabbed himself a Hendrick’s and tonic to start and we sat at the bench by the fireplace finishing our first drinks while we waited for a spot at the bar. 

Usually when you meet someone online and they seem familiar, it’s in an abstract sense, not an real sense. I made the date with the Peruvian’s Doppelganger on Saturday night for the next evening. We agreed to meet at the bar of a small bistro in a quaint historic neighborhood halfway between our homes. Online, he is approachable. It’s easy to talk with him. In person he is a little awkward, a little stiff. The Peruvian was so smooth, warm, and attentive. Curious and interested. The Doppelganger seemed distracted and slightly disinterested. I soon learned though, as I watched him interact with his surroundings, that it isn’t for lack of interest but general social anxiety. The Peruvian is so good with people because he has taken years of classes in public speaking and presentation. His presence is DYNAMIC. The room notices when he walks into it. The Doppelganger, not so much.

We finally get some seats at the bar when a nice Hungarian man and his companion get up to leave. I chat the older man up for a moment, because flirting with older foreign men is so fun at times, and we proceed to sit down and drink some more. 4 drinks in, we are still chatting, chemistry is minimal. He is interested, he mentions wanting to go to other establishments with me in the future. He discusses future dates, yet he doesn’t rest a hand on my arm or knee once. Okay. Lukewarm reception. But he is at least leaning towards interest in his comments. We chat up the bartender, the Hungarian man who has decided to sit on the other side of the bar, and with the couple he is speaking with, the woman looking similar to Maggie Gyllenhall; a night of doppelgangers everywhere. Even Facebook is rocking a doppelganger theme. In case you are now wondering, mine is Jeri Ryan.

We order more drinks and we chat and chat. He tells me about his business, he asks about my time in NYC and tells me about when he would visit his younger brother who used to live there. It seems he comes from a semi close family and everyone lives in the same town. Apparently, he and his younger brother also own competing businesses, yet are going into business with each other on inventions. Hmm, my brain is chattering about little keywords. Inventions. IT consulting. NYC. Weird.

I ask how Mr Doppelganger’s time with online dating has been thus far. He tells me that it’s been mostly uneventful, he was pushed into it by a friend. He tells me that his brother had tried Match for a couple months but met someone through Volleyball in December that he has been dating. Hmm, Volleyball, Match. The fire alarms suddenly go off and we are ushered out of the door rudely by some fireman who are yelling at the manager of the bistro and making her cry with they way they are treating her. Doppelganger and I walk into the market next door to pass a few minutes while the firemen double-check the bistro and give everyone clearance to enter the building. Walking through the aisles we point out bizarre foods and strong flavors we like and things we don’t and he mentions someone having issues with Indian food. A name he hadn’t used before. I asked who? On our way to the exit he then said,” oh, sorry, that’s my little brother”. Hmm.

Back outside we notice that the fireman are allowing entrance back into the building. Doppelganger has relaxed a bit more at this time and is friendlier, yet still not comfortable expressing it physically. Ok, socially awkward man. We order and finish our 4th and last cocktail and say goodnight to the manager and bartender on our way out. Amazing how 4 cocktails makes the night air in January feel so much warmer.  I walk him to his car, which is on the way to the train, and he thanks me for the fun time before asking for my number. He bends down and gives me a brief peck on the lips goodnight, but instead of pulling away from it when it was over, I leaned in. I hate pecks. Either commit to the kiss or don’t even go there. So, we kiss for a few minutes. Nice, it didn’t send me running but it also didn’t curl my toes like the Peruvi… HOLY SHIT. We stop kissing and say goodnight and as I walk away, all the earlier hmm’s and chatter form a complete story. The Doppelganger is NOT a doppelganger. He is the Peruvian’s older brother. Oh. shit. This is going to be an interesting one to explain.

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