Mourning The Loss Of Possibility

Funny enough, after having a conversation yesterday where I mention that most dating bloggers are f’n crazy. I then proceed along my day only proving that statement true for myself.

1. I call some strange dude that I’ve never met. I know. I know.

2. I head out to get groceries and stalk the pool on the way to and from my car looking for Mr. Hot German.

3. I break down in tears over someone I’m not dating, whom I’ve never met, and proceed to want to get obliterated with alcohol because of it.

1 & 2 are normal crazy for me. 3… well I’m gunna blame hormones, but really its more involved than that.. which honestly does make me crazy.

See, I have loved this guy for a long time. We’ve slowly been getting to know each other. When we first met, he wanted nothing to do with a relationship and I did.

He’s honestly the only person since my divorce that I haven’t “broken out into hives” at the thought of getting into a relationship. Partly because we seem to understand each other, and partly I suppose because we’re miles apart and it seems more like a fantasy than real reality.

We’ve talked while we dated other people. He’s asked my advice several times when courting a new girl, but its never been anything serious.

Then last night, he asked my advice on proposing to her. This girl he’s been dating for a little while.

See when someone I care for, asks me for advice, I auto-pilot to give them the best advice I know, without any reguard for myself. It is how I am. I could be selfish and help him destroy his relationship, but I couldn’t face myself in the mirror let alone face him. Because honestly, I sincerely just want him to be happy, even more than the desire to be the one that makes him happy.

I’d been as clear as I could be about my feelings without actually sending him naked pictures labeled “Do Me” or sending him some silly love note. I’m also not keen, since my ex, to be the one making the overtures. I really want a guy who wants me enough, not to let me go.

It doesn’t much matter anyway. He’s head over heels. A goner. I’m sure I can hope that she’ll say no, but I know she won’t. He’s that great of a catch.

So last night, I drank up while crying into my wine. Maybe I’ll find one of my own, someday.

The Hottest Guy Comes With Wheels

So the other night, I go to this networking meeting. Pierce was supposed to be there, but thats not entirely why I went. I do have my own life outside of the urge to stalk him.

Plus the fact that he didn’t reply to my DM the other day.. he’s a little bit in the doghouse. Honestly, I’d completely write him off if he wasn’t so damn attentive last I saw him… and well if he wasn’t so damn cute.

So anyway, I go. Pierce is not there. But I honestly only notice his abscense for about the first 5 minutes.

I enter and behind me in the entrance line is my old director and her beau. This is a networking thing for the geeky. I was a little shocked that she was there and that she’d heard about it. Weird.

Anyway, we get closer to the front of the line… there’s a couple in front of me.. when a loud voice from the table says “Hey Maruska! I got ya, just fill out a nametag.”

It’s my favorite hot happily-married man. So I grin at him.

“Whaaa? you know who I am?” I say jokingly while I fill out my nametag.

Well a few minutes later after checking out who all is there (aka not Pierce), my old director finds me.

“Hey, how’d you do that?”

I look at her like she’s grown a third eye as I try to jog my memory about what I might have just done.

“Huh?”

“At the entrance, how’d you do that?” She’s looking at me as if I’m the social guru of the year.

“Oh, yeah.. I know him. No biggie. I actually know quite a few of the people here. I’m kinda geek.” I admit as I am uncomfortable with her whole “omg you’ve got the hookup” attitude… though I was a little flattered by it. She’s the Who’s Who of Independant Theatre in Austin, so it was kinda funny getting on her “respect” list for networking.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know. I just heard about these things.” She says while looking around.

I’m looking around too, but mostly for someone to motion to me and save me from what is bound to me more uncomfortable talking.

I mention to her that I need to go say “Hi” to a few people and wish her a fun evening. Then I fled.

Of course, Pierce was a no-show the entire event. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t flirting around.

Actually, I wasn’t so much flirting around as I was being flirted with. Made my head spin a little. See my little business venture is getting around I think.. or else it’s given me some kind of pheromones to attract men.

There was one gentleman I’ve met like once before. Maybe twice, but pretty sure just once. I honestly don’t know his name. He’s hot. He’s sweet. But not normally what I go for.. so not really on my radar.

But evidently I am on his. Within minutes of him seeing me, he came over and said hello. He then entrapped me into a conversation (it wasn’t torturous, pleasant really, but he obviously was not letting me just flit on by). When he was interupted by a friend of his, I turned away to see who else was interesting to talk to..

Thats when I met the hottest guy.

Seriously when I tell you this guy is hot.. I mean hot… but probably not in the way most of you are thinking.

He was well kept. Great hair. Very hot face. Hot upper body. Looked like a relaxed GQ kinda guy. But what made him hot was his communication skills. The guy could talk to you and make you feel like the only woman in the room. He also listened like every word you said was gold. Two sentences in and I already wanted to nasty things to him. Sizzling.

Weirder still.. he’s in a wheelchair. Something that normally I’d see, and check off my list of viable. But honestly, it wasn’t really noticable. In a crowd of 50 people all standing, where his face had to be butt-high at best, I didn’t really notice his chair. I simply saw a hot man. That’s how smoking hot this guy is.

There are things more important than superficiality.

By the way, I wasn’t the only girl swooning over this guy. He and I got interupted, and I left to find out if my other friends had shown up. Sure enough they had, so I did some chatting. In between conversations though, I’d go and see if hot guy was available for chatting.

He never was. Every time I went to see if he was free, he was fully surrounded by hot women. Seriously surrounded.

*le sigh*

I finished the evening having made a couple new friends, and with a few more hours of flirting under my belt.

… And with a little sadness that I didn’t get to spend more time with the hot man.

The Read Non-Date Date Kinda

So last night I got to hang out with Pierce. It wasn’t a date or a planned event. I didn’t message him “see you tonight” even though I knew he was planning on going… I am part stalker btw… because we weren’t going together or even going to meet each other. We just both happened to be going to the same place.

Now I hoped that last night would pan out so that Pierce and I could get some one on one time, but my expectations were not high.

I get there and its wall to wall people. I see one person that I “know” and he sort of knows me. Matt knows who I am by my face. I doubt he knows my name, and while this guy is salesman nice (to everyone) he more often than not tries to get away from me asap. Its like I’ve got cooties.

So I say “Hi” to Matt, he says “Hi” in return. There’s an awkward moment, and Matt flees.

I go to the bar, grab a drink, a stiff drink, and look around for other people I might know or want to get to know. The group of people is ecclectic at best. There’s locals dressed “as you are”, business types dressed accordingly with fancy suits and well coiffed hair (obviously gay or completely new to town), and a mix of ordinary well adjusted people who dressed normal for being where we were and outside in the heat.

I’m busy watching the show when Pierce walks in. He sees me, gives me a hug, and stays to chat a bit. Mostly just talking about who is here and who we know. I mention that I only know Matt and point out where he is. Shortly thereafter, Pierce excuses himself and says something about going to say Hi to Matt. To be honest, I wasn’t listening. I was trying to watch the show and heard that he was going, and tuned out.

About 20 minutes later, when the show was over, Pierce returns to me and we talk. We talk about his work and my potential work, and this thing and that thing… and politics and BP.. He may or may not have made joking references to being too busy in college trying to get laid, and I may or may not have described my bed to him with a little too much detail (hey it fit in with the conversation I swear)… and.. then Pierce excuses himself to go to the bathroom saying quite clearly that he’ll be right back.

This time.. unlike the last time we’d hung out… It wasn’t said awkwardly or like he felt I needed some kind of pathetic reassurance in order to extracate himself… this time he said it solidly as a promise of “We’re not done here.” There was no question about it.

But I also didn’t want to just sit there twiddling my thumbs waiting for him to return. I wanted to talk to a few of the performers, and took that chance to do so.. while keeping an eye on the spot where I was, watching for his return.

I barely got a few words in with a couple performers before I saw him return looking for me. (insert big grin and an inner happy dance) So I tried to catch his eye to show him where I was. He saw me talking to the performers and came and sat down a few feet away from my new position and waited. (insert swoon)

He didn’t seem irritated. He just sat and waited. Patiently. Until I finished doing what I was doing. He didn’t come over and try to horn in on the conversation or try to pull me away. He just waited. He didn’t seem impatient or signal me to hurry up. He just waited his turn, patiently.

I seriously wanted to take him home and fuck him something rotten for that. After years of my ex being grumpy and impatient and belittling whatever it was I wanted to do… and being upset with me if I didn’t do what he wanted to do and just socially been a complete pain in my ass… This was a breath of fresh air, and had we been in a relationship, Pierce would have gotten some mad crazy girl sex. Just sayin.

Left to my own devices, I probably would have prolonged my interaction with the performers quite a bit longer.. but seeing Pierce look so deliciously patient and waiting for me.. I cut out of the conversation before I would have otherwise.

Sexy intelligent man vs really cool important people who won’t remember your name tomorrow? Uh sexy man please!

So I sat down next to Pierce, and we talked some more. And talked. And talked. Though it didn’t seem like time was really passing, other than that crazy ache to kiss him and the visual of the sun setting, I’m not sure time really passed at all while we talked.

And he was sweet. Seriously sweet. At one point the sun was in my face when I would turn to talk to him, he, of his own accord, moved his head between mine and the sun blocking it completely from hitting my face. He did this without calling attention to what he was doing. He didn’t even say “is that better” like he was expecting a thank you or calling attention to his chivalry. He just did it, and seemed pleased enough that in doing so the conversation continued to flow. He held that position, moving slightly in response to any change in my position, until the sun itself had moved to a less problematic spot. (How can I not swoon?)

We got up to refresh our drinks, and he stayed with me… not like a leech, he wasn’t glued to my side.. but near me. We continue talking once we’ve gotten new drinks, and as we’re finishing our drinks, Pierce mentions that he needs to go. I agree that its probably time to go, though in all honesty I wasn’t ready to part. I had no idea what time it was, but I was pretty sure by the fact that we were the last people there that it was in fact time to go home.

“You want to walk out together?” Pierce asks.

I barely catch it and I think that’s what he said.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” I reply.

We coordinate our exit, and walk out together. As we approach every juncture where we could have parted ways, he says “I need to go (insert direction)..” with a silent hestitation implying “which direction are you?” while almost guiding me seamlessly along as we walked together.

We went part of the way to our cars together, alas there was a fork in the road where we parted ways. We hugged quickly. Said we’d had a good time.

“Until next time” he said… or maybe it was “I’ll see you around, at the next thing” ? I don’t recall.

All I know is that there is something there. It might be as simple as friendship, or it might be something more. We’ll see.

Nearly Perfect

I just got back from a lovely day. I wasn’t sure it was going to be a lovely day when it started, but luckily God laughs at my plans.

I woke this morning after a long struggle to get some kind of sleep so I could go out with some friends today. I managed to get a whole 4 hours, and upon waking drank about a liter of Passover Coke for the caffiene to actually move.

Sometime after that, things started to look up. I had some energy, and put it to good use cleaning my kitchen while making a quick lunch, then showering, and combing my closet for outfits that were “sexy” without actually looking like I tried to be sexy. I was going to a bar to watch sports with friends. Actually dressing sexy would be overdoing it, but I figured if any of them invited someone single and hot, I should at least look good.

In the end, I looked meh. Oh well. At least I was having a decent hair day.

So I get there. And.. there’s a possibly single adonis there. I didn’t ask him if he was single.. I’m merely making assumptions on the lack of ring.

The guy was hot. Not the type I normally go for.. but I’ll make exceptions. His hair was a sandy-red-blonde, and he had the air of a real manly man. You could clearly tell that he had no trouble growing a full beard if he wanted, though he was clean shaven. His body was athletically built, like a soccer player. He wore a simple t-shirt and cargo shorts, and his outfit plus persona made me think of Matthew McConaughey. He seemed like a good guy, and even made decent conversation.

But what really caught my eye, and had me … erm.. staring at him like he was a dish of ice cream.. were two things.

First, he had a fantastic way of smiling. It was like he’d reinvented it. His entire face smiled. Lips. Eyes. Cheeks. I think even his forehead smiled. It was impossible to see him smile without wishing you could be that happy. I partly watched just to see him do it again.

But mostly I watched his eyes. His eyes shone. Glimmered really. They weren’t a remarkable color. Simple hazel-green, but they looked fantastic on him. They were mesmerizing.

Honestly, thinking back on it now.. there wasn’t much that was obviously remarkable about him. His hair was ordinary colored. His skin was ordinary “irish” white boy (the white with some freckles). His eyes were ordinary colored. He was ordinarily fit. He was ordinarily dressed.

But I promise you… the whole effect of him was nothing short of smoking hot. (I say this as a girl who normally hates white boys with freckles.)

Mmmm eye candy in person while watching eye candy run about a field on TV. The day got super better instantly.

Then I ordered a beer. They had a beer I’ve never tried before.. Widmer? On tap. In an icy cold mug the size of my head. For.. $7. And it was good beer (not Bud Light or Coors Light or normal american mainstream piss water – sorry if anyone is offended, have I mentioned I’m a beer snob?) So anyway my day got awesome quickly.

Then since I was right near my favorite shopping strip, I went shopping. I came out with a shirt and skirt that I thought was going to put me back $60, however when it was rang up it came out as $25. ROCK ON!

So super awesome day.. I drive home, because I’m supposed to actually be working on a business plan today for a client meeting in two days. I’ve done nothing with the business plan, and on my way home realize that tomorrow is nearly booked solid. So I start to panic that I’m not going to get it done.

I get home. Check my email. My client emails me “Can we postpone our meeting until later in the week? I got called out of town this weekend.”

Seriously.. it couldn’t have gone any better.

(ok.. it could have.. Mr HotBod could have asked for my number or asked me out this evening for a sexy romp.. Cuz I need one. I do… but other than that.. Perfect.)

The Dreams That Disappoint

The Setup.. It’s our first date, some months in the future after we’ve managed to run into each other several times at several different events, he finally asks me out. We decide to play some mini-golf.

It’s around the second to last hole, that conversation becomes strained. Neither of us is talking which is highly unusual.

I am stressing myself out about it. I actually like that I feel relaxed enough around Pierce that I can be quiet, but I’m afraid he’ll see me as boring or worse that I’m bored with him. Finally he speaks.

“You’re being awfully quiet.” He jokes with a big smile on his face.

Its impossible not to catch his smile, and so I grin back at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit preoccupied.” I try to hide the slight embarassed blush that I know is creeping along my face.

“Mini-golf isn’t that challenging, so what’s got your tongue? Is it work?” He’s genuinely concerned and wanting to help with whatever is the problem, but also seeing the blush, he’s curious.

“No no… work is fine.” I say as I hold my putter judging just where to stand and how hard to hit the ball. “I’m just preoccupied with this problem I’m trying to figure out how to solve.”

“Oh? Maybe I can help.”

I laugh, “I’m sure you can” and shoot him a look with a clear glint in my eye and mischevous smile.

“Well, tell me then.” He’s now much less concerned, and much much more curious.

“Well, see my mind is completely preoccupied with wanting to kiss you. And not quite sure how to solve it.”

He snickers slightly, “Hmm that is a problem. But I am quite sure it is solveable. Though I don’t really see much problem in it.”

“Well, see for starters, its quite impossible to do with you being over there.” I say as I adjust my stance again, pretending to be concentrating on my shot.. but if I’d have been pretending to read a book, the book would have been upside down for all the true attention I was paying to what I was doing.

Pierce then walks over to me, and stands very close in front of me. His left leg on the right side of my putter, his right leg on the left side of my putter, and my hands just barely a half inch away from his crotch as I held my putter.

I looked up at him and met his gaze. Having him so close made my pulse go all haywire. I was excited, scared, and wanting to run.. but immobile.

“There. Does that solve the problem for you then?” He said with a sly grin teasing me as his face was now just inches from mine.

“Well yes that does make it much much more possible. But I didn’t really tell you the real problem.”

“Oh?” He raised one eyebrow in curiousity.

I look into his eyes to deliver my confession, “See, what I really want is for you to kiss me..” which I barely get out before his hand moves up and lightly brushes my cheek on its way to the back of my neck. His fingers planted themselves at the back of my neck gently pulling me forward, while his thumb pressed just lightly under my jawbone to direct my face up leaving my lips easily accessible.

Then his lips possessed mine in a light caress that deepened to restrained desire.

The kiss stopped as abruptly as it began, and it affected us both equally. There was a brief moment of mutual silence as we regained our proverbial footing.

“So, did that solve the problem?” He teased playfully as he removed his hand from my neck.

“No.. not really” I replied as I let go of my putter and wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him in for another kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, and we kissed the kind of kiss that parents shield their kids from viewing. The kind of kiss that if it was feasible would allow clothes to fly off with a single thought.

This time it was I who ended the kiss abruptly. Moved my hands back to my putter, and said…

“Ok, I’m good now… Hmm you’re in a compromising position, you might want to move before I putt”

I pretended to be all about golf, and giggled when he grumbled slightly as he realized our makeout session was over.

But as our eyes met after my shot, one look confirmed.. the only thing between us and being naked.. was golf.

We quickly finished the last hole, and went to his place. We drive separately, and he’s waiting outside for me when I drive up. We embrace, kiss, and don’t really stop until we’re finally inside.

Things start to get fuzzy around this part.. but I remember running my hands down his chest and then sliding his shirt up over his head.. (and there.. hot and bothered.. it ends).

Indulging My Inner Sadist

There is one day a month where I am quite clearly not normal. On this lovely day, I have a huge undercurrent of angry. I might be able to smile and put on a good show, but more than likely if you hit any of my buttons, I will attempt to take your head off and put it in my pocket as a souvenir.

Every girl has this day.. some have more than one.. some have a week.. some have just a couple hours.. but every girl has this day.

Where the pain only subsides with doses of medication. The hormones run free like the niagra falls. And men suddenly lose their humanity and become beings to enslave and torture.

Or that could just be me.

I have one day a month where I get mentally violent. If I had no will-power, no conscience, no ethics, no religious belief, no rationality, and no fear of being locked away… this one day a month, people would die, people would be tortured and maimed.. it would be carnage.. carnage everywhere!

Ok maybe not everywhere.. I’m generally in enough pain that moving outside of my bedroom for the first few hours takes an act of God. So probably would just be carnage in the bedroom.

Fortunately for us all, I do have powerful doses of empathy, rationality, and conscience. As such I keep murderous and sadistic tendancies to my imagination.

Thus I am mentally violent. This sometimes comes out in my writing as violent wording and sometimes plain threats of violence as well. I also tend to love to say “Bastard” and “Asshole” about everything and anything that may go wrong.

If you’re a man in a relationship with me, trust me.. that one day a month is spent picturing myself sadistically torturing your privates so you get to feel like I do once a month. I probably won’t tell you that, because it’ll scare the crap out of you and make you want to alert the FBI to watch my place for furture murders.

While I say a day.. its generally just 6 hours.

During these 6 hours, I will be bitchy. I will push people away. I will hermit. If you’re sweet, you’ll want to help me by bringing me things or getting me some pills.. and while I’ll secretly love it, I will also grumble and quite likely to tell you to F off.

This is for your own safety. Remember, I am likely picturing myself kicking you in the balls despite the fact that I may love you or care for you deeply. It is because of that that I will want you far far away from me.. so I don’t actually kick you in the balls.

(Because when all this is over, I’ll still want you to come around… and I’ll be happy that I didn’t maim you.)

I will also give you a heads up warning.. “Hey honey, its started.” You will learn these words are a signal to make yourself scarce. At first, you’ll try..but eventually you’ll just start running. I won’t blame you for that. However, you will share half the blame for anything that occurs if you stay around.

You were warned after all.

So if you want to avoid being maimed and tortured, run away and then send flowers from wherever you are. I’ll text you when its safe to return.. I mean if I want you to come back. 😉

Where Did I Put My Time Machine?

I really don’t think I fit in. I must have been born at the wrong time, or have some kind of brain tumor.

All the girls that I meet that are my age. Scare the crap out of me.

If I go about 5 yrs older, I seem to fare better.. but going about 7 yrs younger is about right.. or the closest I’ve seen.

The girls I meet that are my age are either married and pretty cool. Though their tastes in music, activities, and what they find attractive in men is often completely different from me.

The single gals my age that I’m meeting though.. are complete nightmares. Ok, one or two exceptions, but most of then scare the crap out of me.

I obviously missed the sex-attraction of the Bon Jovi and Guns-n-Roses craze. Tall skinny assed white boys with long scraggly hair is so much the opposite of anything I find attractive, yet most of the girls I’m meeting my age still find this look hot. (To me, Bon Jovi didn’t get hot until he cut his hair.. and then I reacted with “OMG he really is a man.”)

I suppose I should be happy that their tastes lie outside of my interest range, but it makes it hard to find things in common. As I’ve mentioned previously, I can’t do hair band music on a regular basis, nor can I do long periods of “classic 70’s rock”… both after a while (much shorter time span on the 70’s rock btw) make me wish I was on something to endure it. And since I don’t do drugs.. its not that fun.

But I keep trying. I keep thinking that there has to be at least one other woman my age who likes the stuff I like and isn’t way damn crazy.

This really shouldn’t be a shock to me. Since I grew up in a small town with anti-social parents, and went to a church regularly which no one in town went to… I was pretty isolated. Other than the close neighbors (one boy my age), every kid I knew or hung out with outside of school was about 4 years older than me or 4 years younger than me (my church had no one within 4 years of my age either direction). I never really did connect much with the kids in my class.

So maybe its just habit of always being thrown in with an older crowd or a much younger crowd? Maybe its just been too many years of being independent and doing my own thing?

I suppose while others were watching men grow their hair out and jamming to their hair band music.. I was watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers black and whites on PBS. Or specials with Sammy Davis Jr, Sinatra, and their like.

You put a well groomed, clean shaven, smart short cut haired man into a suit or tux, and you’ve caught my eye. If he can also dance like Astaire or Gene Kelly, I’m swooning. If he can also croon a good tune, I’m completely smitten and will stalk him for the rest of his life.

Which is probably why I have a pretty good crush on Matthew Morrison (Glee). (He’s probably gay though.. if he’s not, there’s probably a line acround the corner of women trying to catch him and I’m a little too lazy for that. I’ll see if I can’t find someone like him who is “undiscovered’ instead.)

Speaking of “Undiscovered”.. one of my favorite albums.. Undiscovered by James Morrison. Luv luv luv. (see… no ADD here at all!)

But back to the point.. Finding women my age who like this kind of music.. is hard. Sadly its just as difficult to find men my age that have similar tastes.. Or maybe its just my luck I’m not finding them?

Or I might just be a transplant from another era… lost in this time..

Crazies Come Out At Night

Last night was crazy. As usual all my important events all happen to be scheduled at the same exact time.

My Flirting Group.

A huge networking event

A new writers group “sit down and write” meeting (which obviously I need)

The FED – Swing Dancing

Lets not even mention all the friend’s happy hour invites, movie invites, and other more extraneous activities. Though I suppose the FED is kinda extraneous, but I kinda absentmindedly insinuated that I’d show up this week.

I needed to go to the top 3 events. I only actually made it to two, and even that was crazy.  I went to the flirting group mostly because I wanted to reconnect with the organizer for it. One day he’s going to be a multi-millionaire, and I’ll probably still need a job. Plus we both kinda love behavioral sciences. If it was legal/possible to stick humans in jars and watch what they did… we’d be doing it… though neither of us is really a scientist. We’re just both kinda crazy.. in mostly good ways (depending on who you talk to.)

Anyway, I arrive at the Flirting group and I get to talk to the organizer a bit. He’s been trying to reconnect with me (professionally – networking.. the guy is a newly wed), so we got a good chat in while everyone else did the flirting exercises. I thought about staying and flirting myself, but honestly looking at the men present.. I figured I’d have better luck next door at the networking event.  (aka out of the 3 guys that showed up, only one of them was .. er.. acceptable appearance-wise, and he seemed about as into me as day old fish.)

However, my organizer friend did mention some kind of millionaires group in town that throws parties. Evidently its 4 men to every women, and he said I’d “clean up” there and that it’d be like shooting fish in a barrel. So I’ll be looking out for those. 😉  I mean.. millionaires for the taking? Who wouldn’t?

Then I headed over to my networking party. I walk in. Anxiety. Its wall to wall people and there’s a line to get in. They’re doing nametags, AND the people at the nametag table are writing out the name tags for the people. Meaning EVERY SINGLE PERSON is attempting to spell out their name for the person writing the name down.  WTF?

This is not how these events normally go.. so when I got to the table and the girl asked my name.. pen ready to write out my name tag.. I kinda went a little nutz (inside, I tried to hide it). I felt like I was 2 and couldn’t write my name myself, so this nice lady had to do it for me. If I could have grabbed the damn nametag from her and written it myself I would have. Instead, I asked nicely if I could write it.  She balked a bit, but handed me the nametag while telling me that the person next to her needed to also know my name to write it on the sign-in sheet. I had this strange creepy sensation as if I was suddenly not at a networking event but at some kind of military camp with alcohol.

I shook it off, and ran to find people I knew.  It wasn’t too hard as about every 5 steps I ran into someone I knew from some place or another. Said hi in my awkward.. “I have nothing interesting to say” way, and yet somehow found something to say anyway. Hopefully it was interesting whatever it was I did say, though I fear it was not.

I had a good time though.. flirting with very happily married male friends.. and attempting to find an attractive looking single male.  Which for some reason is getting harder and harder at these events, as every good looking man at these events it seems is gay. Seriously. I’m not joking.

Though I did get to see Pierce again. Now, I’ve mentioned once before that I’d kinda had a thing for him since the first time I met him, and that we flirt.. but I have no idea if he’s interested or not.  After last night, I’m going to say .. not interested.

He was looking extra fantastic though. It was like suddenly he went from the uber-geeky guy to uber-hot guy.  He had on this clingy fitted t-shirt. Normally I just assume geeky guys are rather non-muscular and well.. geeky figures..  No no.. Pierce is f’n ripped. I don’t know what kind of canned spinach he’s been eating or what kind of toxic spill he slipped into or what.. but DAAAAAAAAAAMMMN he was looking good.  I almost forgot how to talk to him as I was busy staring. I’m pretty sure my mouth fell open and dragged on the floor a couple times as well.

It is not fair. Brainy. Fun. Great personality. And f’n hot?  Sorry but I’m quite sure that’s illegal.

Anyway, towards the end of the night, I found him again (I’d done some mingling and came back) and we chatted for a while. He excused himself to use the facilities, said he’d be right back.. in a way that made it sound like he was reassuring me (soo not a good sign).. only never to return.  I did see him come out of the restroom, and look in my direction.. but he didn’t come over.

Ah well..

I found myself exhausted by that point anyway.. too much social time and too little food. I’d kinda forgotten to eat all day until right before I had to leave, in which I didn’t really have time to eat then. So I headed home to make myself a big assed plate of food.

On my way to my car though, I pass by Katz Diner. Suddenly I hear thudding on the window of the diner and two guys looking at me and waving exstaticly for me to come in.  WTF? I went in.. mostly out of curiousity about what drugs these guys were on.. but partly because I vaguely recognized one of the guy’s faces. They were both brown skinned and looked Indian.

What is with me attracting Indians?? Please someone tell me?

So I walk in. The host says, “Table for one?” and starts to grab a menu when I interupt him.

“No no.. I believe I was summoned by some strange guys that I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll be right back.” And I head into the dining room.

The host looks at me with “Oh thats what they were doing” relief and a bit of a “good luck” smile.

I get to their table, and ask “Do I know you?”

The one whose face I vague recall seeing before looks offended. The other guy is quick to invite me to sit down and introduces himself. For an Indian guy btw, the second guy is hot. He even had longish hair which I normally find revolting but on him it was fantastic.

Evidently, I’d met the first guy at one of the networking parties. Which one? I don’t recall. This is how long Indian men stay on my radar.. blip.. gone.

The guys are nice and welcoming. They try to convince me to stay and eat with them. They’re uber-sweet.. the creepy too sweet thing that it seems only Indian men can do really well to make you feel comfortable.. and yet those experienced with Indian men know that behind all that niceness is a very persistant “come home and fuck me”.  Both of them were fresh off the boat Indians, and since I had no intention of going home and fucking either one of them.. I left.

It was a funny picture though… two strange men excitedly pounding a window as I walked by in order to catch my attention.. Flattering.

Unfortunately that never happens with men I actually like.

My Meeting With The Playas

The other night I went out with Evie and a friend of hers. In all honesty, I went for the possibility of meeting someone, yet with the full expectation of being completely bored out of my mind. A group of 3 girls almost always leaves one as the third wheel, and since Evie’s friend and her were childhood friends, I fully expected to be the third wheel.

But I needed to go out, and nothing else that night sounded even remotely entertaining.

We went to a play and then the after-party. It was a small production with a small audience. It was ok. Some of the actors, you could tell were naturally talented and the rest were really trying to be. It was at least entertaining.

Then about 20 minutes from the end, I see Evie’s ex? I guess thats who he is. I can’t remember if they’d had sex or exactly what… But I do know that she’s at least seen his penis, and helped him get off. They’re “friends” now, but with Evie that could be FwB or just platonic friends. Its really hard to say.

Evie can’t go a night without a guy. During the show, she’d texted him to meet her there. So when I saw him come in.. I knew what had happened and I rolled my eyes.

It doesn’t help that I just cannot stand the guy. I avoid him like he’s got cooties. He comes off as needy and desperate. And I’ve got the feeling that any woman will do for him as long as she’s mildly attractive (not hideous), and not illegal. (I guess I should be thankful he has some standards huh?)

Plus.. from Evie, I know WAY more that I ever wanted to about his sexual interests and erm.. proclivities. If I wasn’t interested by the fact that he looks like a doofus, or by the fact that he acts like he’s only out for getting laid and desperately at that, then his sexual preferences alone would have sealed the deal for me that I wasn’t going to touch him with a 10 foot pole.

After the show was over, and while we waited for the after-party to start, I found out that Trey had brought two friends with him.

Techincally he brought one friend, who brought his friend.. but thats just me nitpicking.

So we’re standing around, and these two guys join our group. I of course wonder who they are, and Evie introduces them.

I honestly don’t remember their names. So I’m gunna make up some names.

The first one was chatty, but from the moment he opened his mouth, my lady parts shuddered and recoiled. Jessie’s voice was a little .. umm.. too high and he talked with just a slight lisp. Had he not talked about screwing women, I would have sworn he was gay. He was around my height, but with delicate bone structure. His wrists were even dainty. The thought of him having sex with a woman quite frankly made me giggle… a lot.

He talked as if he was Mr. MacDaddy which wasn’t helping the situation any. Maybe he does get all the girls. Who knows.. I just find it immensely unbelievable. To be honest, I found the idea of him and Trey being secret lovers much much more believable.

The third guy, Bill, was shy and completely did not fit with the other two. He was new to town, so I excused his judgement in friends. He had long hair and was Native American. He actually was kind of sweet, but way too young. That didn’t keep him from attempting to hit on me though. So cute, in an adorable little boy way (I know.. just the way guys hope to be seen right?), but about an hour or so later he admitted his age and he was barely legal. WAY too young for me, and thus I was right in thinking of him as a little boy.

So none of them were at all.. in any way.. potential interests of mine. This actually made the night more fun, because they ALL thought that I’d be happy to have them.

Dear Men… I am not that desperate.. and will never be that desperate.. Sorry.

So the party got started, and people started going back inside. It was hot inside. Like sauna hot. I went in to be social for a bit, but found my way outside rather quickly. The last thing I needed was to be miserable on top of this potential boredom.

A few minutes later, one guy after the other came outside as well. Soon it was myself and the three guys.

We began to talk. Jessie kept giving the youngin’ Bill some MacDaddy advice, which I would then critique and tell him how to do it better. Then Jessie saw that as a sign to out do himself. It became this challenge to show me how much of a MacDaddy he was. I couldn’t have secretly laughed at him more. At one point he said:

“I shouldn’t tell you because you’ll hate me.”

To which I replied, “If I don’t hate you by now, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can come up with.”

He stammered and still pretended to be all gentlemanly in refusing to divulge his scoundrel secrets in my presence.

“Ok.. by hate you.. what did you mean by that?”

Jessie turned red, and so I continued…

“If you mean by hate you, that I would no longer want to have sex with you.. let me put your mind at ease.. that ship sailed within the first minutes of meeting you. So just say what you were going to say.”

He looked at me agast, and then did his best to recover. He tried to ask what it was that turned me off, but I simply brushed him off with a “Eh, you’re not my type.” (Rather than telling him that he reminded me of some gay friends from college.) He retorted with a “Oh well at least we’re on the same page.” which made me laugh.

Yes yes… I can be a bitch, but I honestly cared not at all what this guy or his friends thought of me.

So he continues about his rules for “dating” which were quite frankly steps to have a one night stand. He did pretty much every cliche’ without actually mentioning roofies, though he did mention that getting a girl completely plowed so she’d not remember how to get back to his place later. I know.. a charmer. I of course added rules for him, and instead told him that he should just go to her place. No one can say I’m not helpful. 🙂

If I’m not interested in dating you, and I’m pretty sure you’re harmless (or at least that even the smallest woman could kick your ass), I’m more than willing to share my knowledge to help you get laid.. by someone else. 🙂 Its just how I roll.

Bill however was really enjoying the conversation and cursing that he had no way to take notes. The poor guy. In reality all Bill would have to do to get laid is to hang out with these two morons he was with, then go appologize to the girls later and state that he was new to town. He was sweet, honest, and not bad looking.. and following the wake of the other two guys, he’d look like the catch of the day.

Trey however was not liking the conversation. He instead was trying desperately to convince me that his playboy past was over (like I really believed he had a playboy past), and he was now looking for a real relationship. He was not grasping the idea that I could have cared less about what he was looking for.. I was not interested.. yet he continually tried to impress me with his “seeking a relationship” self.

When we began to discuss ages.. Trey started it by saying he was 40 (he looks maybe 34) and how 30 was the new 20 for him. The others also stated their ages, and then came my turn, which I declined. They were 19, 31, and 40.. and I just let them believe whatever age they thought I was. Generally I’m assumed to be in my late 20’s or early 30’s, so I figure they thought I was.

Then Trey began commenting on the music that was wafting outside from the party.

“I used to skate to this back in ’78”

Which we all would tease him about making himself sound ancient. Heck I’m not much younger than him, and even I thought he sounded old the things he was saying.

It was one “I’m old” statement after anouther which kept me entertained by teasing him about how old he was making himself sound and “Thats the way to win the Ladies, man.” sarcasm. I honestly don’t think he understood just exactly how off-putting his “remember when” was, or would be to younger women.. when their parents would be the ones saying those “remember whens”.

We were outside talking for a couple hours before the other two girls came out, and we all parted ways.

All in all it was a good night.. Lots of fun (for me anyway.)

The Good Fight

There is nothing like a good fight. Ok… arguement.. discussion.. whatever you want to call it when two people disagree, voice it, and come to a resolution.. hopefully without killing each other or causing undue bodily or emotional/mental harm.

I like a good arguement. Not all the time. Not every day. But when the time it is right, the subject is right, then yes.. a good arguement.

I’ve always known the importance of disagreement. Partly from my parents who when I was a child disagreed often and probably more so than was healthy.  But they worked it out, and this is eventually what I took away from it.

Then came the ex.. He disagreed on nothing. A few times he’d disagree, and I’d start to get into my arguing mode producing my evidence for my stance, and he’d back down. I assumed (wrongly) that because he did so.. that the subject was not important or that I’d turned him to agree with me.

What I didn’t know.. and didn’t understand.. is that while I understood good arguements and resolution.. He didn’t.

While I love his father.. it wasn’t until way late in the marriage when I realized that it was his father who taught him this.  His father taught him to back down to any confrontation from a woman. If she said it.. she got her way. Period. (Partly this is because his mother is a lunatic..)

So I was left most of the marriage trying to get out of my ex what it was that he wanted. I tried coaxing it out of him. I tried giving him options of compromises that I’d agree to.. to which he merely let me do whatever it was I wanted.. all the while myself knowing that he had an opinion he just didn’t want to share it.

He refused to tell me things that might possibly in some way of any kind.. upset me.  Sometimes these were minor things.. he’d broken a glass.. and sometimes these were major things.. the company was downsizing or there was something wrong with his health.

To most people.. he’d be considered a nice guy.. to me, he was a doormat. Passive-aggressive. His way of dealing (by not dealing) caused me more stress than anything. I worried. I fretted. I nearly drove myself crazy trying to get answers out of him.

Then I gave up. Really. He said it was ok to get whatever curtains I wanted. I would. I stopped consulting him on things. I did whatever I wanted. He did whatever he wanted. We had our routine and stuck to that. I pretended not to care.. until I really didn’t anymore.

Probably needless to say that we drifted apart. The thing is.. the relationship probably could have been salvaged.. if only we’d had that fight. We had the anger anyway. We had the resentment. We just never had the resolution.

Since then, I’ve noticed how that has changed me. Downside: I don’t press people for anything anymore (which often means I don’t ask anyone any questions and it can look like I don’t care). Upside: If someone doesn’t answer me, or doesn’t want to talk to me.. I move on without care to someone who does.

But I also find myself really liking a good argument (not a forced argument.. don’t be silly and try to make a fight) where both viewpoints are expressed.. I find myself respecting the other person a whole ton.. and sometimes finding them sexy where before I did not.

Its not about arguing for arguement’s sake.. its about the freedom to express yourself and your partner feeling free to express themselves.. its not about the conflict.. its about your ability to have it and still come to a resolution.

Its not the fight.. its the making up.  Its about honesty. Its about trust. Its about making sure you’re both on the same path… Together.

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