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Posts Tagged ‘safe sex’

Any complaints or worries I might have had in the past regarding Type Geek and our sexual style burned up over the weekend when he brought his A game to town. He was away on business for most of the week and I wasn’t sure that we would even see each other this weekend, in fact, I was pretty sure we wouldn’t. When he texted me prior to flying back on Friday night and suggested I come by after work I was quite pleased. I assumed we would have a little fun and I would be back home by noon as I knew he had work to do. Apparently I was the only work he had to do, as his meeting was postponed and so, over the next 30 hours, we proceeded to have sex 4 times. They weren’t quickies either. Nor were they predictable relationship style sex. Woo hoo! Right?!

Okay, grass is greener, yada yada…. let me say THIS. Should you compete in sexual olympics during the summer, be certain to consume enough fluids to stay hydrated because moderate dehydration and minor heat stroke the next day while wandering around in the summer heat is awful. Fever, cold sweats, nausea, confusion, weakness… those aren’t the things you want to be feeling the day after a sexual marathon. Blissed out and relaxed, yes. Clammy, pasty and green, not so much.

I guess this goes to show that safe sex isn’t just about std’s but also body maintenance. You’ll blow an engine if you drive a car without oil… you’ll kill your body if you run it without water. I get it, understood. Lesson learned.

Speaking of safe sex…. I’m thinking of going on the pill as a preemptive regulator for my period. Years ago, when I worked with a large rotating group of women, I suffered from the insecure period…it was never the leader. I’d start working with a new woman and bam, I would suddenly be following her cycle, regardless of the fact that I just had my period two weeks earlier. The worst was having my period 3 times in a month and a half. I don’t want to do this again, hence my considering the pill. An obvious benefit of the pill is no longer needing to consider condoms, at least as a form of birth control. It is weird to hear myself say that out loud. I know that it has been nearly a year since I jumped the fence, but somethings are still strange to think about or hear. Ten years ago I switched to a lesbian doctor at a clinic that specialized with the LGBT community because I was sick of the doctors asking, right off the bat, when I had a menstrual issue, “Are you pregnant?”, or even better, “How can you be sure that you aren’t pregnant, we should do tests” . Hmm, until two clits rubbing together can spontaneously create the magic of childbirth… highly unlikely. Jesus Christ

So, anyway, I am considering the pill… I am also considering dumping the condoms with Type Geek. Here comes the question… Neither of us are dating anyone else, do we need to have a conversation about us prior to our conversation about my going on the pill? Can we be casually exclusive? Is there such a thing? Chime in…. and make sure you are drinking your fluids.

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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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The last few days have been rather interesting. If you have been reading chronologically, you already know that I finally got laid. Well, Mr. Bratty McLawyer is worse than any goddamn lesbian I ever dated. We had sex Wednesday night, Thursday I had errands and at one point he texted me and asked what I was doing, I explained that I was at a specialty grocery store. Now, just because this store is in his neighborhood, does NOT mean he should come and surprise me. Maybe he was so enamored by our mutual lack of orgasms that he needed to see me again, less than 12 hours from when he dropped me off at my home. So, he surprised me by turning a corner and appearing. Cute-ish, I guess. Now, the next day, I spent several hours consoling my ex girlfriend who is in an AWFUL relationship. After such an exhausting conversation with her there was a great need for a relaxing bath and the huge macaroon I had bought the night before. Stripped down, I stepped in. Within 45 seconds of settling into the tub and shoving a huge piece of the macaroon into my mouth, a text message came through.  Bratty McL was checking in, wondering what I was doing. Just stepped into a nice relaxing hot bath I replied. What are YOU doing, I asked back. His response aggravated the living hell out of me. “About to join you in the bath” he replied. Umm, wtf? Huh? THEN my buzzer rang. Are you fucking kidding me? Who comes over without an invitation?! I ended up getting out of the tub, dressing, and walking over to a local bar for a cocktail. Now, aside from the fact that he showed up uninvited, and pulled me from a relaxing soak, when the bill came, he had me chip in for my one cocktail.  Hmm, you think you might be able to buy me an $8 cocktail when you inconvenience me? Maybe? Grrr. Finally I get to go home…alone. Hours late, and not in the mood, he shows up on-line and starts instant messaging me. I had considered going out to a huge arts event that night, but after feeling run down and bombarded by other peoples psychic drama, the idea of a large group of strangers was less than appealing. I was bored though, so I strolled the online sites and found a deadly handsome man, who had just relocated from Barcelona, to chat with. He looked like a cross between Bradley Cooper and Ralph Fiennes and was utterly charming. As Mr. Cooper Fiennes and I were discussing meeting up the following day, I was trying to end my chat with Bratty McLawyer. I told him I was going to bed, he then asked to call me, so that he could say hear me say goodnight. Ugh, GAG. I told him that my phone was charging in the other room and that I was unable to call him at the moment, so a virtual goodnight would have to do. I could hear his whining tone in the way he typed his disappointed, “fine, okay, goodnight then.”  He is needy AND annoying. The self-righteous and condescending attitude hasn’t disappeared. After knowing that I love trip hop AND that I have numerous friends who are DJ’s, he suggested that surely I don’t really like DJ’s, since I appreciate serious musicians like Pat Methany? I must be joking.  Ok, now you must go away. Really?! So, electronic music ISN’T music now?! Really? Goodnight Bratty.

The next day I had an appointment across the river. I texted Cooper Fiennes to let him know that I would be out of my meeting by 2:30, if he was interested in grabbing a coffee then. The weather was amazing and the idea of great conversation on a patio with an attractive man was splendid. We met outside Starbucks. First impression in person… even sexier than he looks on-line. He is working in medicine, plays music, has great taste in music, including electronic acts, is stunning…with the type of bone structure that takes your breath away. So HOT. Always a pleasant surprise when the date is hotter than their pictures, especially when their pics are already pretty goddamn good! We walked around, laughed, talked music, talked business…both his and mine, talked art and his soon to be ex-wife. Amicable split, still good friends. Is he looking for love? Not particularly. He is in town for a residency fellowship and, in 6 months, he may move back to Spain. Hot summer fling with a sexy guy from Barcelona until then? Why the hell not?! We spent 4 hours together and I suddenly realized it was 6 pm. I was supposed to be back in the same neighborhood at 8 for my drinks and movie with Type Geek. I had to get home, wax, walk and feed the dog, change and get back to the same place I was at that very moment…in 2 hours. I bid adieu to Cooper Fiennes and hustled home.

I realized upon arriving home that not only did I NOT have enough time to wax, but that even if I did… my skin wouldn’t be relaxed anytime that evening. So, my “Just in case we end up making out hot and heavy” wax turned into a bathtub soak and …shudder…. shave. EEEK. I made it out the door and back to meet Type Geek around 8:15. Not too bad! Now, Type Geek has been rather shy with me. Interested, I have presumed, but shy. Not very physically aggressive. Granted, I haven’t been fully falling at his feet, but I have been leaving him openings. On our last date, I finally kissed him. I then told him that he didn’t need to wait for me to kiss him next time. He promised he wouldn’t. So, I was curious what would happen this evening.

He popped the wine and began making some snacks for us. We sat and chatted at the kitchen table, drinking wine, listening to music, occasionally googling something that came up in conversation…but never discussing the movie. I touched his arm or back or chest or head…several times, no moves. Sigh. Ok. FINE. Hours ticked by. We scrolled his iTunes library and laughed at some of the old school tunes he had, like stuff from Anthrax, whom I loved as a teenager. I’m standing 5 inches away from him. Is he just interested in me as a friend? If so, that’s fine… but what is going on here? At 1:5o am, roughly 5.5 hours since he picked me up at the train, I consider that all hope is lost. I resign myself to this. We joke about his unmanly amounts of shoes and he tells me of a pair that are so ghastly, his friends ridiculed him the only 2 times he wore them, so now, they live in the closet. I asked to see them and he retreated to the bedroom closet to find them. A minute goes by and I followed after. I climbed onto the bed and started petting his cat while he dug out the shoes. When they appeared, I agreed with the response of his friends. Just then, his cat runs off. I stay sprawled out on the bed. I am tired and the bed is really cozy… there is not incentive to leave. We keep chatting and then he begins picking cat hair off my shirt. In my mind I think, yeah, friends. He is picking cat hair off my shirt…not kissing me and here I am laying on his bed. 5 minutes of cat hair picking and he finally decides to kiss me. Bravo Type Geek!

He doesn’t stop at kissing me though… and I decide to go with it. He’s a really nice guy and a great kisser so I decide to ignore the physical road blocks I do have and just enjoy whatever is going to happen. Is he shooting for 2nd or 3rd base tonight? Within a half hour, I am mostly nude. Within an hour, I am singing the praises of all the great things he can do with his mouth and within an hour and a half… I am having sex again. Whoa. nothing for 6 months and then….2 men in 4 days?! EEEK! Ok, feeling a LITTLE trashy, but I will get over it. Especially since McBratty Lawyer is NOT getting anymore sex from me. The sun is coming up when we finish and we sleep for a few hours. His cat wakes me up by burrowing into the back of my thighs and overheating me from the sheer amount of warmth coming off its furry little body. Half awake but sleepy, I shuffle away from the cat and cozied into Type Geek’s chest, absent-mindedly petting his bare skin with my free hand as I laid there. Eventually the petting became mutual, and less absent-minded. After 2 hours of lazy but intense foreplay we went for a 2nd go around. Sunday morning sex truly is great, not having to get up and be anywhere, laying in bed naked for hours afterwards… what a relaxing way to spend a morning. We finally gave in and got out of bed. I needed to get home to my pooch and we both desperately needed some coffee so we got dressed, ran to the Whole Foods, grabbed some coffee and then he gave me a ride home before venturing out for his afternoon bike ride with friends.

I honestly did not think that Type Geek would come through last night. I especially did NOT think he would venture towards sex, since we hadn’t even had a hot and heavy frustrating make out session yet. Above both of those however, I had never considered that HE would be so good in bed or that I would go to bed with him since there were a couple things I was on the fence about with him. Well, damn, if you can push my buttons and get me to curl up in a ball and laugh out loud, you have done a fine job. Type Geek had me laughing my ass off. He done good.

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I don’t talk to people on the phone prior to meeting them. I know this sounds odd. There are a number of reasons for this though. First, you can’t see someone’s face, so you may not be able to pick up subtleties in the conversation. Second, some people are poor telephone conversationalists but GREAT in person. It isn’t fair to make the telephone conversation your first impression of them. Third, and last, IF the conversation flows, a false sense of intimacy can occur. So, I like to meet for coffee as soon as possible and see if investing in awkward conversations on the telephone are worth the hassle. No spark, no need, right?

Well, Mr Bratty McLawyer turned IT Guy, or Bratty McLaw, as I will call him, insisted that I call him. UGH, FINE! He was cute and charming in his messages and his profiles, so I figured I would go ahead and break that one rule. I wanted to hang up on him after talking to him for an hour. I was finding him to be egotistical, self-centered, arrogant, insulting, condescending and rude. It didn’t seem like the man who had been corresponding with me, so I spoke up and gave him a bit of a verbal smack down and, after being stunned silent, he apologized for how he came off and changed course to try to resurrect the conversation, if possible. We spent 10 hours on the phone. The sun came up and I said good-bye to him and hung up as I locked the door behind me and headed to work. It wasn’t an amazingly passionate conversation. It wasn’t even that we connected in some deep sense. The conversations pale in comparison to the things said in my shared silences when I was with Brooklyn, however, he was interested and charming, so I kept talking. I am far too old for a night without sleep these days.

I came home from work and took a few hours nap, and began some laundry. It was chilly out however and I really wanted to get out and have a cocktail by a fireplace somewhere. My other possibilities were not available, so I texted Bratty McLaw and asked if he wanted to have a drink in a few hours. He eagerly confirmed and we agreed to meet in 2 hours.

Shower, run to laundromat, move clothes to dryer, run home, apply make up and finish getting dressed, run to laundromat and grab dry clothes, run home and drop off, walk dog, grab purse, catch bus to subway, subway to taxi and drive by as he is walking down the street thinking he will meet me at the train station. Umm, I said I would meet you at the bar silly boy. Geez. Luckily I saw him and was able to get the cab driver to pull over and let me out early. I rang him on the phone and proceeded to direct him in my direction. There was a humourous moment of voyeurism that I found myself stuck in as I was able to pull his strings and move him without his knowledge as to where I was or how I was able to see him so clearly when he didn’t see me anywhere.

He was cute in person. Not breathtaking, but attractive. Softer facial features than the photos in his profile implied. We decided, as we stood on the street, that my original location choice for a rendezvous wasn’t actually what either of us were feeling. So, we opted to walk to his car and drive over to a different bar. Chemistry, mmm, ish. 6′ 2″, blonde, fit but not gym rat like, comfortable smile, arty glasses, and just enough vanity to be self-confident in person. I was honestly worried that he would be the schmuck I was thinking he might be when we first started chatting the night earlier. This person though, it wasn’t there. Perhaps it was nervousness that led him to project the persona of douche bag shithead, but luckily, whatever it was, it was nowhere in sight when we were in person.

We arrived at the second bar around 10 pm. It was dead. Which, honestly, was quite fine. We sat at a high top and each ordered a glass of wine. He was snackie, so we also had some spinach artichoke dip. Conversation was friendly. By the second glass of wine, he was reaching for my hand and stroking my arm. By the 3rd, he was kissing me. Did the kisses overwhelm me and leave me speechless? No, but they were quite good. His kissing style is similar to mine and it felt nice. We decided to go back to his place and make out a bit more. My dog could easily do an 8 hour span of time between potty breaks, and since it was midnight at this point, she was probably sleeping anyway and wouldn’t miss me for a few more hours, at least.

We drove back to his place and I took off my heels as we walked up to his apartment. Heels on wood stairs in these old multi unit buildings, well, I would have woken everyone in the building. He made me sit on the stair outside his unit while he took 5 minutes to tidy up. I chuckled. Knowing the current condition of my own residence, there is virtually nothing, short of live creatures roaming about, that would offend me. I live in a cluttered construction zone, bring on your mess… I can trump it right now buddy.

A few minutes later he comes out and ushers me in quietly. His roommate is sleeping on the other end of the unit so we need to be self-aware of voices and laughter. So, why put on Colbert and Jon Stewart if you don’t want me to laugh out loud?! The laughing didn’t last long however, as he made his move within 5 minutes of us sitting on the couch together. My rule for the night…. sadly overdue for a wax… I look like a hippy body hair loving freak… hands stay out of the pants and they stay on.

An hour of making out on the couch can kill any back, so, logically we move to the sleep number bed. We play with the settings, laugh some more amidst some occasional shhhh’s from the each of us to the other. So, the shirts end up off. Of course they do. Then, even though I say…warning will robinson…danger danger… furry wildebeast…stay away from the Northern region… I end up with his hand down my pants. He said that he would take note of my objection and embarrassment and keep in mind that au naturale is not my current state… and then he peeled the jeans completely off. Oh oy vey. This is not leading anywhere good, is it?

Well, leading anywhere good? Hmm, well, after a lot of frustrating teenage grinding in our undies… I stopped him and stated what we both knew. Let’s just admit that we are going to have sex and rather than keep up with this silliness under the ruse that we aren’t going to…. go get the goddamn condoms now. So, student driver finally got laid. Was in earth shattering? No. Did it need to be? No. Was he a sweet and kind lover? Yes. It was comfortable, even though I was furry as all get out and embarrassed by that. We were both exhausted from the previous nights marathon conversation and our lack of sleep, so neither of us got off in the end, but it felt great regardless. The sun was coming up as we finally disengaged and gave up on a definable finish line. We set the alarm for 3 hours, so we could get a little sleep, and then readjusted our personal sleep numbers for our individualized snoozing comfort.

The dog? She was asleep on the bed when I walked in the door at 8:45 am. She hadn’t noticed that I hadn’t come home that night, in fact, she seemed quite pleased to have the bed entirely to herself.

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I have a touch of the uck today. A low-grade fever, stomach that is ever so slightly off, and a general feeling of malaise. Not pleased. I have postponed my date with the young Straight Edge Artist for tomorrow evening, we were going to meet at a contemporary art museum in the evening, because I want to lay in bed and feel healthy for my date with Future Lawyer on Friday night. It isn’t a hot date where we hit the town. I suggested a low-key evening in at his place, some Pho, some Netflix and a solid chance of making out. I asked myself whether I would sleep with him, IF I were getting waxed this week. Potentially, yes. However, it’s only been a week that we’ve really known each other. But, I think I have decided that it is okay to be casually sexual with a couple people at once as long as A) safe sex, and B) no one thinks that sex makes you exclusive. My blueberry soda loving childhood fireman, the Musician/Artist/Assoc Prod is back in town this weekend and we have plans next week to check out a great Italian foreign film and grab a cocktail. I kissed him on a street corner. I want to see if there is a potential for more chemistry there, or if it was a just momentary ambush of lips over judgement. So, these are the things I am mulling about in my feverish mind.

I was looking through some of my old writing tonight as I down my Odwalla C Monster. I came across something from 2008 that I had written after awaking one morning from dreams about the man I had loved so intensely in my early 20’s.

Strange dreams

I woke this morning from a dream that haunted my entire day. I am 34…nearly. I have dated women exclusively for a decade. Prior to that I knew I was attracted to women from the time I was 17. However, I hadn’t realized my ho-hum YAWN feelings towards the men I dated or had…what some elders might refer to as …”relations” with meant that I was gay. It never crossed my mind. Until it did. 
 
Funny that I dream of him. I am gay. To some of you, many of you, you may not understand how a woman can say she is gay but admit relations and a past love for a man. It is simple, you have your preference or leanings and then, if you believe in eastern philosophies at all, well then… it opens the world to confusion. As an eastern follower and someone who believes in reincarnation… how can I say that a soul partner will only come back as a man or a woman or a human for that matter. Now when I say that, a soul partner does not mean a lover per se. We can be blessed in our lives with connections that are unexplainable and wonderous …. we just feel in our bones that these individuals, whether human or animal, have been intertwined with us before. The love I had for that man from a decade ago does still haunt me. I have a photo of him which I shot on one of the first nights we truly saw each other. Perhaps it was even that first night. He said it was the only photo that ever really captured him. When I look at it now it feels as if he looks right into me. Still.
 
I do not dream. At least, I never remember any of my dreams. A handful in 34 years. That is all. I remember one from when I was 14, one from the weeks after my dog passed several years ago, and this one. This dream was about him. The him that sprung into my life, like an odd flat note in a song. At first it seems out-of-place and just wrong… then you keep listening and your ear realizes that the flat note is the unique piece that makes the song.

3 months… secrecy. No one knew. Okay, 4 or 5 people knew. The rest we hid it from because we worked together and didn’t want the drama. We didn’t like each other when we met. I found him twitchy, pale, arrogant in a way that was pedestrian. He thought I was “just a bird”. See, that is what I mean. What white american midwestern male uses the term “bird” as if he’s a self righteous Brit? We dealt with each other. Humored each other’s diatribes until one day when someone mentioned that I followed eastern philosophies as well, that I was Hindu, and with that, he looked as if he had just discovered something new on a road he always traveled, and he mentioned that he was Buddhist. We raised eyebrows at the other and from then on, we began to listen to each other. One night we had a movie and take out night at his apartment… three of us from work. The one with the crush on me grew tired and decided to sleep on the couch. How polite to leave me with the floor. At this point Mr Twitchy and I were finding common ground but still nowhere close to great pals. He was polite enough to offer space in his bed, with no intentions. Seriously, there were no intentions and it was a California King. A HUGE BED. We slept and in the early morning hours we suddenly awoke at the same time, facing each other, our eyes locked. I felt infinite. I knew then that he and I had a connection older than us. We continued to stare at each other until eventually it became an embrace. 3 months.

3 months and then he met a woman in a bar, she pursued him relentlessly and he dumped me unapologetically in a note on my door, days after my birthday. I remember knowing deep down but laying in bed alone and praying for him to “just please not marry her”. Yes, they married. I think they are still married. I am not sure. I moved from that place the following year and while he is in my thoughts, I have not seen him since I left that town.

I have had a fair share of disillusionment, monotony, indifference and settling in my life when it comes to romantic and/or sexual relationships. A few times I have been left feeling like the wind has been knocked out of me. This man came in and out of my life so swiftly and briefly, yet he imbedded himself deep within me. I think about him often, even now. I know that our relationship was not meant to be one of permanence. It was Woody Allen, The Pogues, Bushmills and stouts. Existential dilemmas, dissatisfaction, late night converging on a mutual cynicism and dissatisfaction with the world. For three months though, we loved each other madly and it was us, secretly tucked away from the rest of the world. 

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The weather was so great yesterday, a reprieve from the month of bone chilling temps. I awoke in the morning with multi-layered guilt. It was a guilt trifle, if you will. My pup has had cabin fever from a lack of canine fun and I had stood up the Turk numerous times, so I decided to combine the two and remove the guilt in one train ride. The pup and I met the Turk outside Starbucks and proceeded to walk and talk , get a tea, then walk and talk some more.We ended up back at his house eating some sautéed shrimp, drinking some wine and making out, with my having to lay down the law on 2nd base making out only. He was pouty about this but dealt with it.

He’s nice, young, eager, stable BUT…. there is always a but, isn’t there? I don’t feel it. My toes don’t get all curly when we kiss like they did with the Peruvian. I am also fairly confident in my belief that he is a bit of a player. That, in and of itself, is fine, however, don’t play me. If you want to have sex with me, DON’T feed me a line of bullshit to get me to go to bed with you. I will if I am interested and I won’t if I am not. While I am not easy, per se, I don’t play sexual games of cat and mouse if I want someone. The only time games are introduced is if they are naughty and sexy and mutually agreed upon. So, why do I think he is a player? Aside from the truth of the night we met and that we were both making out with numerous people, his words feel too rehearsed at times and he has condoms everywhere in his house. A ridiculous amount of them stashed everywhere. I lost one of my diamond earrings when we were making out and realized it a couple hours later when we had moved from the living room into the bedroom. He has condoms under his bed pillows, stuffed in the couch cushions and under the couch. At all times. Just in case. In case of WHAT? In case of the need to relocate your building?!  He has enough condoms stashed to be a live action version of the film Up, if he were to inflate them all with helium. At least he is into safe sex, but oy vey!

I guess my general feeling of Meh in regards to the Turk also stems from many superficial things that I can’t seem to get past. He razors his head… like Yul Brynner. He shaves his back, sometimes (what about the rest of the time?) because he admits to being a “really hairy guy”. BUT, he doesn’t wax his one giant eyebrow. Really? Why not? Oh, and there is a weird thing he did when we were making out at his house. Not that WHAT he did was necessarily WEIRD,but that he chose to do it so soon and without testing the waters. He is a tit slapper. What in the fuck is with that?! Yeah, no, I don’t like that. That’s distracting and silly to me. Stop that.

So, I have a general degree of meh-ness when it comes to him. I’m not excited about him, at all and that seems unfair to him, however, I don’t think he necessarily cares HOW excited I am, as long as I am willing to make out with him. I am however finding myself excited when I think about the Musician,Writer,Assoc Prod guy. I need a new name for him, any suggestions? Even though our date had to be delayed on Friday, I find our gmail chats to be refreshing and something I look forward to. He has a sweetness about him that makes me smirk. A smirk is a very good thing.

All in all, a slow week. The foreigner friend of mine and I are headed out for cupcakes to soothe my menstrual craving, nomnomnom, and perhaps a hazelnut mocha as well.

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