Monday, February 27, 2006

NO (head toss) NO (head toss) NO (head toss)

My keys and a plastic bag were stuck to my naked body this morning. When I was able to peel my eyes open and get out of bed, I followed a trail of toilet paper (what the fuck?) and clothes to the bathroom. The toilet seat was up from an evening up-chuck. The sight of myself in the mirror was frightening as shit, but of course not as frightening as the flashbacks from the night before... Remembering the pieces of a drunken evening has that whole "car wreck" effect... you know, where you want to look, but don't want to look... and when you do look, you cringe, look away and then look back again.

Arriving at Cheers last night, I noticed the absence of Lick My Face :( ... But, my favorite ex-call girl was there and so was Obsession. Ex-Call Girl is like the boys, she gives me free drinks too. I also knew I could get the dish on Lick My Face from her... What does she say about him!??!

"He's kind of a dipshit."

"What do you mean dipshit?"

"He tries to be all clever... and I can smell fear on him... I think he's afraid of me."

"Hmm. Do you think he's just intimidated by your total 'hotness' and says lame things? Could he grow on you?" Please note that Lick My Face is new to Cheers, so everyone there is still getting to know him.

Ex-Call Girl grins, "Yeah, he could grow on me..." and she winks.

Needless to say... all of this is meaningless. End of story there... guess I'll just wait and see how he is the next time I see him, but of course, his image is slightly tainted 'cuz my Girl hasn't warmed up to him yet. Anyway, Ex-Call Girl likes to have me try out her concoctions... drinks that taste like chocolate cake and apples (not together of course)... and I'm a willing participant. However, my participation was too good last night.

My friend left the bar, and I thought it was a great idea for me to just stay... yes, stay at the bar all by myself. I know guys do this plenty, but I have never just stayed at a bar alone (that I can remember, at least!)... and I kept drinking. Here's where the story takes a turn for the worse... this is where I cringe and shake my head back and forth saying, "NO NO NO!!!"

I for some reason thought it'd be good idea for Obsession to come outside and talk to me as I'm leaving. He walks me out, and I start talking about my pathetic lows that people don't really give two shits about – and I thought I was over giving two shits about ‘em... and then, of all things I start CRYING... EWWWW EW EW... fucking crying!??!? Tears... Tears in PUBLIC...

Tears in front of Obsession!!!! and I was crying and blabbering on and on about bullshit I can't even remember... bullshit that has nothing to do with anything... I apparently missed embarrassing myself around him and had to take that level of embarrassment to its highest!!!!

Oh my GOD... I am embarrassed beyond belief. How long do I have to wait before I can show my face around there again?!?!? What Would Jesus Do? (there's my shout out to Mr. Lost His Mind)

Oh wait… I forgot my coat there.

CONCLUSION: since I wrote the above post, I’ve had my conclusion.

When I informed Midge of the whole, “crying in public – worse crying in front of Obsession,” he commented that men love when women cry in front of them… the damsel in distress bit…

I brushed this off.

Then, my mom later called, and for some reason we got on the topic of men… I didn’t mention anything about my embarrassing bout of crying… nor anything about my night in general… it was just a totally separate conversation of her probably feeling like she had to give me a motherly advice on a how to catch a man – as though it’s really my fucking priority right now.

“Miss Curious… after I divorced your father (I was 1), I read some books on relationships… men love when women cry in front of them… it makes them feel more masculine… they think it’s ‘sweet’ and that they’re proud they can be strong and help this itty bitty girl crying on the playground… don’t tell your dad (step dad) that I do this on occasion to make him feel better about himself” --- again, my mom had NO IDEA that I had cried in front of this boy.

I brushed off both their comments, thinking it was a crock of shit… and I hate crying in front of anybody. To me it’s worse than farting in front of Obsession.

So, I go to the bar to get my coat. There’s Obsession with a big grin on his face. Ex-Call Girl says hello and tells me she’s going to grab my coat.

“Hey Obsession… sorry about last night… you must think I’m a complete dumbass… and you’re right… hahaha… no, I swear I’m normal… it’s just that you see me here when I drink and I do all these stupid things, but I promise I’m actually stable as people can even be… hahaha… that must sound ridiculous.”

“Look Miss Curious… you see me here at work… sober and in work mode. You haven’t seen me get wasted and do stupid shit… because I often do. You have no idea. You have nothing to worry about. I know you.”

Slightly relieved, I say, “that’s nice of you to say… but I just know that I always do crazy shit here.”

He shakes his head with a big grin.

Ex-Call Girl comes back with my coat. She mentions that I didn’t seem drunk the night before – that it must have hit me when I left (yeah, it fucking did – right outside the front door)… I again, felt relieved that she hadn’t noticed.

Then Obsession walks me out. He looks like he’s about to kiss me on the lips, and I have that sudden, “oh shit” feeling… I turn my head, he squeezes me and gives me a big kiss on the cheek. He has this proud face like he was so fucking pleased that I’d cried in front of him… and now I was somehow more real… more vulnerable… and that I showed that side to him… and he did comfort me… his words were trying to make me feel better – less silly – like he had to show me that he’s tripped, so I’d feel better about my fall… and the hug did make me feel safe.

Me and Rainbow Hung-Over w/ my "are you fucking kidding me" Face Posted by Picasa

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Could He Ever Lick Something Else?

This evening I'm meeting up with one of my B.F.F's. I have a few because I'm super RAD. You know, it's tough. But anyway, she and I have a tradition of sitting around a pitcher Sangria, drinking like CHAMPS, and gossiping about the latest happ's in our lives.

Well, where do we sit around this pitcher of Sangria?!? You guessed it... Cheers. In case you forgot, both Lick My Face (aka "he makes me purr") and Obsession work there. About a month and a half ago, Lick My Face spouted off his weekly schedule (and then drew a map to his house on a napkin - why, I don't know!?)... but anyway, I don't think tonight is one of his nights :( ... boo-hoo... Thursdays are sooo much less busy than Saturdays, which would mean he could come talk to me ALL NIGHT - but no!!... of course though, I'm not so secretly wishing that he'll be there tonight anyway. Can everyone cross their fingers??? and for those of you Christians, send some shout outs to Jesus Christ?!?

It's always nice to see Obsession though and whisper a quick "yuuum" but my prayers were never answered with him other than a one night hook-up (while I was on the rag) and a few nights unrequited phone calls... but now, Lick My Face is becoming Obsession Part Deux.

Since I'm pretty much Miss Super Half Glass Full Curious (yeah right, ha!), I'm hoping that my favorite ex-call girl waitress is there... if she is, I can get the dirt on Lick My Face and further my psychotic obsession with someone I've maybe muttered one awkward paragraph to... but what the fuck do I expect? Do I think that suddenly Lick My Face and I are going to fall madly in love and live happily ever after? He's a bartender... he meets plenty of ladies, and I'm just another that's fallen under the spell of licked faces and free drinks.

But again, being as super optimitic and fantastic as I am... Lick My Face can certainly make for some good staring-out-the-bus-window daydreams... as my Trent Reznor fantasy is falling by the way-side... no more of those "going down on me" fantasies, bleh.

So, around 6:30 pm tonight (Pacific Standard Time), think of me and BFF drinking Sangria and hopefully - yes hopefully - find jesus and pray pray pray --- that Lick My Face will be there... and we'll have another "awkward" interaction!!!!!

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Of Course I Want to go to Hell, All my Friends and Family Are Going to be There!!!

With the living situation shot... job situation shot... significant other gay wife "Midge" leaving... last month I was hit with yet another pretty big blow, and I still haven't made sense of it, which is why I haven't written a thing about it... Here's the backstory: My first love, well the only man I've ever really loved, and I have been through many ups and downs over the past 6 years... I have always claimed that he knows me better than anyone w/ a close second being Midge... and I thought I knew him just as well as I knew myself... He and I speak a couple times a month... he was my "if we're not married by 35, let's get married" guy... at my lowest moments, he is the person I call who I knew would always understand and reassure me... he always made me feel less alone in the world... last month he dropped a bomb on me... he tells me he's been dating a girl from his work for a week, and she's "the One"... they've been friends for about 2 years, and I'd heard about her a few times... but he never pursued it because he'd ended the pursuit of love after me... and could never be a boyfriend or a husband and would never want to bring children into the world............ The surprising part is not the engagement --- it's that he's suddenly Christian!!! This would be like me, Miss Curious, suddenly posting that I of all people am a devout / born again Christian... I now feel like i've completely lost him... I feel like he's dead... I can't run to him anymore... and I wonder how in the world he never said anything over the past 2 years that would lead me to believe he was a Christian -- I mean -- I am stunned beyond belief -- He and I are close - Were close, rather... very close... as deep as connections go... and suddenly, it's all been shattered -- it's like finding out that your dad you've put on a pedastal for 18 years has been cheating on your stepmom for a 11 years and put her in the hospital a couple of times... i mean holy fucking shit -- how do you know people anymore?!?!? And no no no - not what doesn't kill you makes you stronger (sorry Green Eyes)... what doesn't kill you makes you more bitter -- makes you close yourself off to others even more -- makes you callous -- breaks your trust... nothing good in that... where are all the lessons of how people are lovely and amazing!??!! Anyway, below are just a couple of emails back and forth... there were a few emails i sent with quotes from different religions and things I learned from religious study classes at berkeley about sources of the bible... and of course, the knowledge I learned from going to church for 10 years of my life and being in the choir and being an acolyte and having perfect attendance at sunday school... anyway -- i'm sure we all know to never have the religion conversation, but i did send him a million emails about facts - and reason because he was always one of the most reasonable intelligent men i'd ever know... now he's lost all logic - all reason!!! This has been sooooooo hard for me... actually, out of everything, it's been one of the most difficult things recently for me to swallow... tears... yes, many tears.

MiSS CuriouS:

first off, congratulations on your engagement... i'm sure she's a very nice woman, who means well. i'd like to send you a toaster for your wedding, so you'll have to give me the info.
soooo --- i understand that you are living in a place where you don't have anyone to talk to... you never really had anyone who truly understood you... and i thought i understood you well enough until all of this... and so there you are, in this town, with no one to talk to - not even your family - and i'm so far away -- and this sweet young teacher introduces you to what's given her stability and hope and happiness her entire life or for however long (is her family christian? has she thoroughly studied every religion?) and you're looking for something to believe in... you're on your edge and need something more... and so you go to church and these people tell you they want to hear what you have to say... and they give you their icons to worship and their songs to sing... and now you have this "virtuous" woman along with her religion who will make you feel less alone in the world.... and there you are -- a christian.

and i can understand all of that just fine... i can even appreciate those needs and finding something to believe in... but what i can't understand is finding something to believe in that makes one say that they're right and everyone else is wrong... and that you feel sorry for all those wrong people because although they live a beautiful caring life, they're still going to hell?
that's a hard pill for me to swallow. because i try to be a good person, but according to you (a person i thought i knew so well) believes that i'm going to be eternally damned. that's hard karl. that is judgement. your religion is all about judgement and vanity. and i can't understand how anyone who is well educated and reasonable (as i thought you were) can believe in the words of the bible.

again, this doesn't mean that i don't still care about you and want to know how you are, but there has been a line drawn between the two of us... a huge line... and it saddens me greatly. this makes you into an entirely different person. but i know, like your fiance, you mean well... i know you have a good heart... but i don't believe we can ever truly understand one another... i know that we'll never be able to go to the other in times of despair... you certainly have someone you can now go to, which is i'm sure, part of the reason for such a drastic change, but you're gone for me.... i don't have that friend in you anymore -- and it breaks my heart.

Mr. Lost His Mind:

this is either meaningful or it isn't. you've chosen to make it all pointless, and in that we've parted ways.

"for judgment is without mercy for those who show no mercy. mercy triumphs over judgment" that's straight out of the new testament in the chapter of james. there is a gap between cultural christianity and that of the bible. i have studied the majority of religions from zorastrianism, buddhism, taoism, islam, judaism... you name it... and i have come to this conclusion independent of her. i made my decision before i had even met her, april. this... process.. began a long time ago... she is the one that god has for me here and now.

culture. people. those are the rudimentary facets of evil. your depression. who you are.. who i am.. is not the way it should be... it is not relative. there are absolutes. we either have meaning or we don't. just tell me one thing april. does your life matter or not? do you have value? do people have value? and if so, where does that stem from? why? if you don't care, then you're lying because i know you that much despite this purported disconnect you claim.. this.. bifurcation.. is not between you and me.. but between you and god. (oh no you dit'nt!!!)

MiSS CuriouS:

you should hear me over here -- all my blasphemous comments i'm making... I'm not an athiest -- nor do i choose to categorize myself into anything organized or anything that can be named.... i just am... i do believe in something greater than what we can see or understand... but i'm not going to begin to fathom it because it's beyond my realm of comprehension... i'm not going to try and use icons that men before me have conjured up just so i can have something that my two eyes and human brain can understand – men who thought the world was flat and we were the center... it is difficult not having a name or set of rules all mapped out... some checklist of the way i have to be -- all laid out nice and prettily for me... oh so easy to just accept and have all this nonesense make sense.

instead, i follow my heart... i follow what allows me to sleep well at night... and although there are some nights that have been difficult to fall asleep... i try to make it possible for me to sleep once again.

and yes, i'm here... and from what i can physically - mentally comprehend based on our 1 dimensional understanding, i do not have any knowledge of purpose... all i've seen with my own two eyes is people merely propogating... survival of the fittest for reasons i cannot begin to understand. i see no reason whatsoever for society to continue on... based on reason, i do believe that one day humans will become extinct just like the dinosaurs -- by the way, where are the dinosaurs in the bible? what is christianity take on the dinosaurs? man wasn't ruling over them... man wasn't even around... but surely Jesus must have known all about their purpose - so tell me, what was their purpose?

so if i think there is no reason that society should continue to exist, then that should answer your "value of life" question. now that i am here, again with no choice, i have come to care about the people around me... and i do not care to cause harm to others... it's typically unintentional and inevitable. and i do not think life is easy. i do not feel like i have more good days then bad days.

if given the choice, i would not wish to have been born. and perhaps that sounds depressing to you, but it seems reasonable, again based on what i can understand with a human brain.
so what are we all here for? why have man? why have society continue? why were the rules set up the way they were? why do we have to know wrong to know right? god could have set the rules up much differently. you can give me answers that are 1 dimensional. that's all you can do.

like the buddhists say, i have to accept not knowing the answers. that's all i can do. while i'm here, i just do the best that i can.

to address "judgement" - judgements are opinions... you are not without opinion... christianity is not without opinion... that one line in the bible can say whatever it wants to say, but your opinion is that i will go to hell if i don't accept jesus as having died for my sins. that is a judgement. you probably think it's a fact. and will reject my argument.
so if you believe that line, then you must believe all the others like i addressed in my first email to you... you must believe in polygamy, sinful lives being redeemed on one's deathbed, philanthropists being damned for not accepting jesus... and if you believe that line, you should see the evidence of judgement in the actual content of the bible... the actions of judging.
so which do you partake? cultural christianity or that of the bible? you'd be a hypocrite any which way you look at it... why accept some things of the bible and not others? although there are a lot of stories for interpretations, somethings are very clear... men being able to do whatever they want and owning their wives -- and many wives is acceptable... THAT is very CLEAR!!

that split (this bifurcation) is most definitely between YOU and ME... and not between me and god... not at all... because i believe my truth just as much as you believe yours. and i hate having the religion conversation because neither side will ever budge, but i'm so stunned that you've completely traded in your beliefs. you've after 20 something years just suddenly decided to take someone else's truths as your own. can't you come up with those on your own?

---- AND NOT ALL OF THIS POST MAKES SENSE OR IS PUT TOGETHER... BUT ALL OF THIS IS SOOO MIXED UP FOR ME RIGHT NOW... AND I DON'T MEAN TO BE SOME DRAMA QUEEN BECAUSE THIS BLOG ALWAYS MAKES ME SEEM AS THOUGH I HAVE SOME GRANDIOSE IDEA OF WHO I AM, BUT I KNOW I'M JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE... I KNOW I'M NOT THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE... BUT I HURT SOMETIMES... AND CAN'T UNDERSTAND THINGS SOMETIMES... AND I'M JUST HERE.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

He Makes Me Purrrrrr.

He makes me want to purrrrrr. I don’t know what it is, but Lick My Face just has this “thing,” you know that “thing” that some people have… and his “thing” makes me want purrr.

Saturday night before going to see some live music with Green Eyes, my friend Red Hot Thighs and I decided to go to Cheers. Both Lick My Face and Obsession were working. I got there before RHT, so I sat at the bar by myself while I waited. I accidentally sat in some chick’s section of the bar… and just asked for water until RHT got there… both boys came up to me at separate times and asked if I wanted a drink (please be reminded that neither worked my section – basically, they LOVE me)… Let me refer back to Lick My Face and I about a month ago, when I told him, “sorry I’m so awkward… I get all awkward when I drink.” He replied a courteous, “you weren’t awkward.”

What does he say when he comes up to me?!?! “Hey, I miss our awkward visits.” Ewww… cute and embarrassing… he clearly remembered… and the way he says things… he’s just so fucking smooth… BUT, he never looks at me… like I’ve said before, everything he does, he does without looking at me… like spraying me with water or wiping my face or licking my face or telling me, “he hasn’t even begun to make me wet…” He just gives me this side smirk while he’s making drinks or wiping off the counter… and then he moves on.

It’s that side smirk that does it for me… it just makes me want to fucking purrrrr… to give him my “come hither” look… clench my jaw and eat him alive. Uh. Mmmmm, more like it.

Later, he super-sized a drink for me, and when he accidentally started to fill it with water, he, without hesitation, grabbed some top-shelf vodka and filled it up.

Anyway, the second I got there I was suddenly on fire for this boy… and I realized that it being such a busy night and having a different waitress wouldn’t give me many opportunities to charm this man. And of course every time he approached me, I couldn’t think of anything witty to say. I mean, he held up the hose as though he was going to spray me again, and I just looked at him like a dumbfuck – why couldn’t I have said something like, “I bet you’d love to spray me with your hose.” ?!??!! I mean, where’s the fucking wit when I need it?

For the rest of the night, not many more opportunities presented themselves, and RHT and I needed to be somewhere, so I couldn’t even say good-bye… and then I’m left with all these obsessive thoughts… when will I see him again? What will I do next time to make myself look like even more of a fool? I mean – I’m not kidding about “awkward” it’s like I fucking stumble all over myself… it’s like that side of me that super-glued her finger to her mouse last week is the only side that shows when I’m around him. Fuck.

KingKong Update:

We all know how King Kong ends… and it’s not happily ever after. My encounter with KingKong came to an end. As much as I would have liked to drag it out and have a Pretty In Pink make-out PAL, I knew how he was beginning to feel… naturally, he was falling hard for the Miss Curious.

While he was in Seattle, he texted me a couple of times… telling me he was thinking of me… and he asked if we could hang out the day he got back… I texted back saying I didn’t think it was the best idea because the lines were beginning to blur… he didn’t respond. The next day he texted again asking “so what time should I bring over a movie?” I reiterated that it wasn’t a good idea… I reminded him that the reason I hadn’t wanted to meet in the first place was that I wanted to lay low…. And now that things weren’t falling into that category, I couldn’t keep doing this… I apologized profusely… Like KingKong, he is so sweet and innocent, but he’s just not right for me… and I have so much going on in my head… speaking of which:

Still Up in the Air:

- Job Situation
- Housing Situation – partially dependent upon job situation
- Location – here, down south?

And then, Midge is moving across the country… and I lost another confidante to Christianity… and now I feel like I need a fucking break!!! Uh. Bleh.

Here are some photos of me and Midge :-( My gay ex-wife... leaving me forever!!!

 Posted by Picasa

Friday, February 17, 2006

PS To Prior Post --- Oh Bloody Hell

So the other boss, who was in and out yesterday, sent me an email saying that he is getting worried about business... that soon he'll be, "sucking pond water." Well, fuck. I just replied asking that he try and give me the best timeline he possibly can... how long will he wait to build his pipeline in this market before he decides he can't afford me anymore... everyone in our office is so slow that I don't think anyone will be able to split me with the other boss. Hm. Situation not so clear anymore. Jesus Fucking Christ. Still looking at San Diego.

My Next Moves...

Yesterday, I had a brief discussion with my bosses... I asked how long they intend to keep me around considering business is slow. They told me that they have no intention of letting me go anytime soon, and that I should give them notice if I decide to become an agent on my own.

Needless to say, this news is reassuring. This means, I'm hanging out in SF for a little while longer... I'll address the moving situation once I actually am laid-off... and/or my younger sister graduates from that east coast Ivy League school hers... should she decide to make the San Diego move, I may consider it as well... I can't have all my family hanging out without me -- me, Miss Curious, the coolest daughter ever!!!

Right now, I'm in hot pursuit of an inexpensive roommate situation. I do have an option with a co-worker here, which would be quiet, safe, mellow... the only downside is that it's a one bedroom, so the room divisions are a little complicated... I'm going to take a look at it next week (I've been there several times and it has a comfortable feel) -- I've just never looked at it and envisioned all my shit in it. So, we shall see how things go. I am keeping my eyes open for an actual room-room.

And then there's the question of what will be Miss Curious' latest challenge? What will keep her on her toes... keep her mind busy... cultivate some unknown skills... shit - fuck - fuck... i get so fucking bored easily... what oh what to do w/ myself!?!?!

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Horror Hate-a's

He's just sooo nice. KingKong that is. Although it seems like I have unrealistic expectations, the guys that I've fallen for haven't always fit my archetype. Well, none of them have really. More than anything, I want a certain sense of comfort and/or protection... All too often, I feel much too much like a male in relationship - getting all these sissy boys afraid of horror flicks and nazis... it's no hyperbole when I say MANY guys I've dated freak out during scary movies... I mean c'mon now!?!?

To my point, KingKong falls into the category of "horror flick hate-a's"... This is where my whole, "I want a man" comes into play. I want a chest that I can hide my face in when I pretend to be scared in movie. I want that warmth.

I'm happy enough being single that why the fuck settle? Again, KingKong is extremely sweet and totally fun, but I'd rather adopt him as my younger brother than a have him be a boyfriend.

So, he and I hung out on Valentine's Day... watched Pretty In Pink, which he knows by heart... just like Girls Just Wanna Have Fun... we made out a bit. He kept his Large Dick in his pants per my request.

At the end of the night, my decision was clear. I will not hook-up with him again. I don't even know if it's a good idea to hang out. As they say in When Harry Met Sally, "Guys and Girls Can Never Be Friends -- The Sex Part Always Gets in the Way." He's out of town until next Tuesday, and I'll make things clear at that time.... I've said it repeatedly, but like everyone commented -- actions speak louder than words -- there are reasons cliches are cliches.

Housing Update:

Nothing more from Psycho-Nazi nor the Rap Punk Couple neighbors... I'm throwing myself into the housing hunt... I hope to discuss my job with my bosses tomorrow or as soon as possible, so I can figure out whether or not I'm staying or going (to SD)... I want to stay at my job... I enjoy the people immensely... however, it is so slow that I don't think they'll be able to afford me... If they can, then I'll continue to look for an inexpensive roommate situation as opposed to some costly studio where I don't know what the neighbors are like... If a person's been living there already, they can let me know noise levels and crazy factors... we shall see... if the bosses lay me off, then it's collecting unemployment and moving to SD city for me.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

I'm So Fucking Loveable!!!

You know a guy’s into you when he agrees to come over to watch The Bachelor. KingKong did just that. I’d warned him about my Nazi neighbor telling him I’d hold the guy off until he escaped… but of course, KingKong had to promise to call the morgue and have them pick me up when he got home safely.

There we were on my bed, and all I wondered was whether or not his cock was really 8 inches or more. But of course I’d never know because we’re “just friends.” I tried to tell him that all my “friends” show me their dicks. He didn’t buy it. So, I tried another angle….

“You should kiss me right now. Just a peck. You know you want to… I mean, how can you resist these squishy lips!??!”

“I’m not going to kiss you. You said we’re just friends, and you’d totally fall in love with me if I did.”

“Not only do all my friends show me their dicks, but they also kiss me… even the girls.”

“I’m not kissing you. At least not while you’re looking.”

“Okay, I changed my mind. I don’t want to kiss anymore.”

Then. He kisses me. He has a beard. Chafe. Soft tongue. Not aggressive. Sweet. Very little movement of the hands. Time Passes. Hands up the shirt. More time passes. He sucks my toes. I liked it. I like it a lot. I had short pants on. He licked the back of my knees. I softly moaned. Whoow. Hmm. The pants stayed on.

Basically, all this happened, so I could see his dick. Having loosened (rather hardened) him up a bit, I asked again.

“Are you going to show me your dick yet? I am NOT going to touch it with any part of my body. I just simply want to see it.”

He concedes. And he wasn’t lying. His dick is Large. Yes, he has a Large dick. He has this itty bitty body… half the size of me… but his dick is LARGE. Not only is it Large… I’m pretty sure they use his dick to make dildos. The color, the girth, the length, the veins – totally perfect dick.

But then, what does he do!?!?! He sentenced himself to death by trying to put my hand on his dick. Guys need to learn that if you want to turn a girl off in one split second – try and put her hand on your dick. Or even worse --- try to push her head down to suck your dick. Guys have definitely done that to me, and at that moment, everything stops. No kissing. No hugging. Any clothes that may have come off are immediately put back on. It’s over. It’s just so fucking awkward. If I want to suck his dick or give him a hand job, I’ll fucking do it on my own.

Anyway, I got over it because he really is one of those “nice” guys. He’s actually a nice “boy.” He’s 26. I’m 27, which is 37 in guy years. (Please note: I did not do anything to his dick. I told him before he whipped the thing out that I was only going to look at it). I’m pretty sure he’s interested in taking things further – in a relationship sense and the physical sense. I, on the other hand, have told him that I want to be totally casual… that I’m not looking for anything right now… I also told him that I quit having sex, so he has to understand that this isn’t going to get further than making out.

He’s fucking fun as shit to hang out with, but I feel like he’s a buddy more than anything. Last night amidst our heavy petting, I felt like I was with some boy from junior high, and we were “practicing” with each other for the REAL thing… and that’s it… it’s just not the “real thing.” He’s never had a serious relationship… he’s really unsure where he’s going to live – same with me… he’s just YOUNG.

I want a man. A man with broad shoulders who towers over me. A man who will rest his masculine hand on the small of my back and pull me into him… pull me into his warm secure chest. Someone who will set up my electronics and change my light bulbs. A man who looks at me from across the room with a side smirk, and I know how connected he feels to me… and I to him. A man who can take charge in a situation, but know who’s really in charge… me. A man who keeps me on my toes – who is much smarter than I – who can spell just as well.

I don’t want a boy. I don’t know how to handle this situation. I enjoy spending time with him. He’s coming over tonight to hang out and maybe show me his dick again. And I so worry that I’ll break the poor boy – mind and literally body. Should I just stop hanging out with him even though I’ve told him where this isn’t going? Should I stop because I know where he’d like this to go? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

UPDATE ON THE HOUSING SITUATION:

First off – wow to anonymous for slaying my friends… that was sweet! But really, I know they would help… it’s more me not wanting to infringe on their space… not necessarily feeling comfortable enough to escape to their homes. And thanks to the Loyal Readers... I love it!

Last night was quiet. No death threats. No rap. I told my landlord about the situation, and he’s letting me out of my lease early, of course – he has to… so I’m in hot pursuit of a new place. I’m looking in San Francisco first. By the end of this week, beginning of next week, I plan to have a conversation with my current bosses to see what my job security is like…. Business is slow, and I don’ t want to get into some new lease here and everything blow up in my face should I get “let go.” San Diego is very enticing, but the logistics of a move are extremely daunting… I just keep expecting something to happen that will solidify my decision one way or another. I’m going to look at a place tonight. It’s in the Mission where I live now, but the girl who’s showing it lives there now and told me it’s insanely quiet… I explained that’s my numero one concern.

For now – it’s all a big WAIT and SEE!!!! Bleh!

Monday, February 13, 2006

Death Threats and 8-Inch Cocks

Trying to enjoy the weekend weather, I opened my windows and curtains. When it started to get dark my neighbor turned up his rap and sat out on our fire escape. I then decided to close my windows and curtains. As I was closing the curtain, I locked eyes with the psycho-Nazi (“date with a bullet”) guy. When the curtain was fully pulled back, I heard the Nazi yell, “I just saw her. I just saw that bitch. She just closed the curtain. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.”

His voice immediately brought back memories of some mystery woman he was telling he was going to have gang-raped and killed. I grabbed my phone to dial the police as he continued talking shit about me.

But then I thought, wait, by the time the police get here, he’ll be gone. All I will have done was sit here being freaked the fuck out waiting for them. And then, I reached my point… I reached that point where you just don’t give a fuck. So, I opened the curtain, opened the window, and stuck my head out and said, “What the fuck’s your problem!?!”

Because really, I’ve never spoken to that man nor called the cops on him, nothing. I have nothing to do with him. The only thing I have to do with him is that he’s friends with my direct neighbors. The neighbors that everyone in my building (except for me) signed a notice to get them evicted. I wrote a letter to the landlord prior to everyone else’s complaints (in October) telling the landlords that I hadn’t had luck getting the neighbors to keep it down by knocking on their door. After the letter, they toned it down a bit, but it was and has been very uncomfortable. I have not complained since then because I just didn’t think it was worth it.

But anyway, let’s get back to “What the fuck’s your problem!?!?”

Nazi replies, “You wrote a letter.”

“Your problem is that I wrote a letter?”

“Yeah, you wrote a letter to the landlord about these kids.”

“Yes I did. I wrote a letter to the landlord to have them keep it down after 11 or 12 pm on weeknights. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. People need to respect each other.”

“Now you’re gonna’ get it. I’m going inside to get my gun right now. You watch out.”

What are my options here:

a) Close the window and call the police.
b) Close the window and get the hell out of my apartment.
c) Keep the window open with half my body out of it and wait for him to come back with his gun.

Guess what I did?!?! That’d be C!!!! He did come back out. He didn’t have a gun. I wasn’t afraid. I was just fucking pissed beyond belief. And if I were him, I would’ve been afraid of me.

Meanwhile, my other neighbor is on our fire escape telling me not to worry about it that Nazi is just on drugs.

I then asked him, “well, why did you tell our cracked-out neighbor that I wrote a letter? What was the point in that? And, now I know what woman he was saying he was going to gang rape.”

He uneasily replied, “I don’t know… he just found out from my girlfriend’s parents. They have friends who know him from prison.”

“So, why would they go and tell him that your neighbor wrote a letter asking that you keep your noise down? Did they want him to come threaten some young single woman who is just minding her own fucking business and just wants the occasional peace and quiet? Now, I’m getting death threats and you’re just telling me not to worry about it?!? And I’m being singled out when all the other neighbors asked that you be evicted and signed a petition. I never once asked that you be evicted. I just asked for you to keep quiet after midnight… big fucking deal.”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a problem with you.”

“It seems like you do have a problem. Since that letter 4 months ago, have I once given you shit? Did I not give you a letter and a bottle of wine thanking you for keeping the noise down and to let me know if I was ever being loud?”

“Yeah, and thank you for that. That was nice.”

“That was nice and now this?”

“I don’t know. Don’t worry about him.”

Nazi comes back out onto the balcony. He brings a shirt with him and holds it up, “do you see this shirt?! Can you buy this shirt at the store?” The shirt had some skinhead logo or some shit like that on it. “No you can’t. I ain’t afraid of prison. You just try and sleep well tonight.”

Still holding my ground, I asked the Nazi, “what did the letter say? Tell me. What did it say?”

He couldn’t say anything. He left, and I continued my beef with my next-door neighbor. He continued to tell me that the guy’s on crack and he’s been to prison and don’t mind him. I said that all that was so reassuring thanks… yeah, fucking no way!!!

Eventually I closed my window and thought about who I could call… whose house I could potentially crash at… I called ex-wife Midge, but he wasn’t around. Then I went through the whole, ‘everyone here has family or a significant other or both, and I have no family. I have no where to go. I feel all alone. Blah Blah Blah.’

Later, my wife called and asked me to come over. I decided not to. I decided to “sleep well” like the Nazi told me. I decided not to be driven out of my home by some stupid mother-fucker.

I decided that I didn’t care what the repercussions were, so I stayed. I did, however, sleep with my light on.

Later today, I’m going to speak with my landlord and discuss moving out. Now, I’m considering moving to San Diego. I love this city and I hate it. I think San Diego is beautiful, but I’m not a fan of the vibe / scene. But my family’s there… I’d have somewhere to run… somewhere to hide. My job has plateau’d. I’m just at this cross-road. Maybe this was the extra push I needed. But I’d hate to leave this city. But I worry about finding another place and hating it. I have this new fear of neighbors. This city is so fucking expensive. Uh. What to do – What to do?!?!

ON A LIGHTER NOTE:

KingKong and I are going to hang out tonight. Stay tuned for details on that. I’ve reiterated to him again and again that I only want a friendship, and he says he’s totally cool with that. But then, we got on the cock size subject and I discovered that KingKong believed 8 inches was an average sized cock. He then said he was a bit above average. I told him to trace his dick and give it to me, so I can decide for myself. Naturally, KingKong suddenly became more appealing… but – but – but… he’s still a bad speller – and he’s soooo skinny… I mean, I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’d crush him if I accidentally sat on him. AND, he’s afraid of horror flicks… enough with the pussy-boys in my life… I need someone who will defend me against that fucking Nazi!!!!

Friday, February 10, 2006

Why'd I Even Ask?

I don't know why I even bother to toss the question of: to meet him or not to meet him?!?! Because - Because - Because, in the end, I'm going to do whatever I damn well please... Because I am Miss Impulsive Fucking Curious!!!

So, in my impulsive state, I proposed meeting up last night. He's going out of town today and desperately wanted to meet me, so he jumped at the opportunity. (Let's briefly address my impulsive state -- my ex-wife Midge is moving to New York. The reality is becoming greater as the days pass, and in a moment of weakness, I wanted to go out and take my mind off things... I wanted to have something else to think about instead of going home and burying my head in a book and thinking about how Midge is leaving.)

But then, as the work day came closer to an end, the mid-day slump hit me hard. What do I do? I text him back saying, "just kidding?" Naturally he thought I was a dumbass for suggesting it and then suddenly saying how 'bout not.

He asked me to call him when I got home from work, and I did. With some smooth talking, I said okay, why the fuck not... but I reiterated again and again, that I'm only looking for a buddy at this time... and if he just wants to meet new folks, then cool.

He says something to the effect of, "whatever, once you hang out with me, you're going to be all in love... and you're totally going to try and make some moves on me... but I won't submit because we're just going to be 'buddies'."

I brush off his comments, throw on a black hooded sweatshirt and black low-top converse.... saying, "whatever" in the mirror before I walked out the door.

He looked like his picture. Messy amber hair with a matching beard, hipster tortoise shell glasses, and vintage jeans. Not the typical guy I gravitate toward at a bar, but he had his own style, and it was more his personality that I dug.

But anyway, the conversation wasn't contrived... we had a great banter... he could take my relentless sarcastic bites... and he dished them right back. I genuinely laughed quite a bit... and it wasn't a nervous laugh.... it was a laugh where he actually said something funny.

We chatted for about 3 hours with perhaps one awkward silence, which in my book is a miracle.

At the end of the night when we parted ways, there could have been a kiss. If he kissed me, I wouldn't have minded. He didn't, and I didn't mind that either.

Later that night we text messaged about how he totally wanted to kiss me and he said that I totally wanted him to kiss me... and it was sweet... it was cute. And I liked how he didn't say that I wanted to kiss him. I liked that he did say I wanted him to kiss me.

Anyway, today he goes to LA. He might be moving there. He's a film editor, and it makes sense to go. After LA, he's off to Seattle for a little while and won't be back for almost 2 weeks.

I have no overwhelming emotions either way. I had a nice time, and I would certainly hang out again should he ask.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

MyMistake or Perhaps Not?

Remember that other MySpace dude called KingKong? He's the one I told that I wasn't into meeting anyone new right now. Being as persistent as he is, he asked if we could just be email buddies. I acquiesced. A few times a week we email... nonesense really, but it's been entertaining... I've continued to turn down his invitations to meet up reminding him that I just wanted to lay low... he's pretty much in love with me... and I'm considering it... I said that if we ever did, it'd be just friends... just friends.

Just some He's In Love With Me quotes from KingKong:

So now that your best friend is leaving, now you have a vacancy right? I'll fill it. And I can even cheer you up... I mean just thinking of me should cheer you up! (Okay, that's kinda cute!)

Anyways, I'd like to hear another excuse so; When are we gonna hang out? Hahahha. Ohhhh and I looked at my last message and I didn't see any spelling mistakes. So fuck off:). Love you. (Trust me -- there were spelling mistakes -- and by the way, that's why we haven't met... see how I spelled "haven't", yeah, that's how it's spelled)

you ARE in love with me. It's okay it happens to the best of them;) (yeah right KingKong, I'm in love with you??)

Let's get back to the Spelling Issue... it is an issue for me... again, sure I have my errors here and there as I'm typing so fucking quickly... but ask me spell something, and I can fucking do it. But now that we've been emailing for a little while now, I've grown a soft spot for the boy... he just seems like a sweetie pie.... my worry is that he wants more in his life right now, and I kinda' just want a buddy... a buddy to come over and watch Pretty In Pink while we smoke-out... his idea by the way. To meet or not to meet? He's out of town until late next week, so I have some time to get the idea out of my head... or should I keep it in my head???

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

So Over Myself...

To wrap up yesterday's post, I'm basically a fucking rockstar, and some jerk-off's just can't handle it, so they can just kiss my pastey white-ass.

Let's talk about who hasn't received her Red High Top Converse.... that'd be me!!!! Here's the summary of events... met Jerk-Off Jesus, he screwed me, then he screwed me... I wasn't too bent outta' shape 'cuz at least I got a free pair of high tops... which did come in the mail, but were the wrong size... so, I spent $11 to send them back in hopes of getting the right size... and now -- nothing... now all I got was SCREWED and SCREWED... that motherfucker!!!

ON ANOTHER NOTE: Now that I have no one to think about and am trying not to fuck for a while... I have my recurring Trent Reznor fantasy... it's pretty cliched. We're lying on this soft carpet, but not one of those animal skin or shag carpets you always see in movies... it's really just his new berber carpet or something like that... naturally there's a fire going... it's the only light in the room... i'm lying on my back in a true crucifix position... however, my legs are slightly spread and Trent is loving my taste. He has this perfect ass... this perfect glow to his skin... there's so much skin... his and mine.

The fantasy doesn't go further than this -- but I think of it at all the wrong times... I'll be mid-conversation with my boss and suddenly there's Trent in between my legs. I'm on the bus staring at the homeless pissing on brick walls as we drive by - and oh There's Trent's head moving in circles then up and down. It's pretty hot.

But I suppose that's all I have for now. The Trent fantasy. And I wish I didn't even need that. I wish I had boy-blockers or some patch I can wear that rids me of the boy addiction. I wonder if that'd sell? Hm. Maybe not, cuz that'd probably be the end to mankind. Like that'd be such a bad thing? The Dinosaurs went... we will eventually. Bleh. I'm so over myself.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Other People's Boyfriends

I hate that all my friends' boyfriends hate me... okay, maybe not hate, but certainly fear... I'm the perpetual single girl whose open fuck-talk and drunken escapades make them fearful of what their girlfriends will do when they're out with me.

Little do they know that I encourage their girls to: apologize, give more blow-jobs, understand where "he's coming from" ... and I swoop in on any advances from sleezey (and not sleezey) boys... in fact, if I see a friend getting too intimate w/ a guy, I can't even enjoy myself because all I want to do is break it up... all I do is watch her from the corner of my eye when I know she's getting a little more tipsy than my own drunk-self.... I also unflinchingly lay into the girl if she even for a split second considers another man... I've been known to be slightly harsh on my friends for these reasons.

I'm certainly not perfect, but I've never cheated on a boyfriend. I am whole-heartedly against it. For a split second, I too have considered it, but reprimanded my ownself for doing so. I actually have a sanctimonious attitude when it comes to these types of things.... Me, yes me, Miss Curious - the moral police? well, I do believe in living a life of integrity -- honesty - heart - respect --- allow as much room for error as I possibly can.

And here I am, getting shit-talked by the boyfriends.

I bring this up because I received a panicked phone call from a friend this weekend (I often do). She was having the usual problems with the boy... this particular boy thinks I'm a bad influence. He worries that when she goes out with me she'll partake in inappropriate acts... soooo NOT the case. Can I say -- Insecure Boyfriend??!?! Why would your girlfriend that you love and respect have a best friend that is of questionable integrity? Why would she have a best friend that is blind to common sense?

But anyway, little does this boyfriend know that most of my conversations with his girlfriend entail the, "understand where he's coming from... you should probably apologize... he needs this reassurement... he's worth it." I wonder though -- is he worth it? Hm. Well, despite his poor perception of me, I still think he's worth it. He's definitely good for her. And so he has a bad - bad - bad opinion of me, I can still be reasonable... I understand why he may feel that way -- I am pretty liberal... I am pretty insane... and he hasn't had the time to get to know me (they live in a foreign country), and if he did, perhaps he'd understand where I stand on issues of the heart -- issues of loyalty -- strong loyalty.

It's just frustrating at times. I respect my female friends immensely. I realize that their boyfriends/husbands are a big part of their lives. I wish the boyfriends didn't think ill of me.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Sawed-Off Vagina

Every time I go to the gynecologist I convince myself I have some STD... like West Nile Virus of the Vagina or something completely obscure. The blood typically drains from my face, and I think I'm going to die from some watermelon-sized tumor I have up my kooch, and the OBGYN is about to break the bad news.

Most people are hypochondriacs when it comes to the common cold. I grew up never going to the doctor for colds / virus’ the works… my dad, a psychiatrist, in his convincing tones never allowed our minds to worry about these passing afflictions. Even though he head-shrinks for a living, because he still had his “doctor bag” from medical school, we took his word as truth. And I still really do, when it comes to everything but the kooch.

You see, the Vagina isn’t something that the Pops knows too much about… he’s delivered a couple babies back in the training days, but vaginas are far from his head-trip expertise… and even if he knew a whole lot about vaginas, I soooo would NOT be talking to him about itchiness and discharge.

That leaves me inside my own head -- telling myself I’m never going to have sex again because I hate ever having to worry that anything is ever wrong with my kooch. Sometimes I just want to Saw off my Vagina because I have so much fucking anxiety about it. I wonder what vagina hypochondria is called… I mean there must be some term for it:

Obsessive Kooch Disorder (OKD)
Crazy Kooch Condition (CKC)
Pussy about Pussy (PAP)
In Transylvania, “Very Vorried Vagina” (VVV)

I mean the list could go on and on……….. So, why don’t I just not have sex until I’m madly in love? and well, fuck, I’m my best lover anyway… and really, if I’m not going to have biological children and if enjoy reading my books, why even bother with boys anyway? I think it’d be a beautiful thing if I could just be madly in love with myself, my fingers, and my vibrator for the rest of my life. This would be the cure – the cure of Very Vorried Vagina.

MiSS CuriouS always likes a good challenge… so there it is… the gauntlet has been set forth… let’s see how long I can last – how many trips to the OBGYN can I make without ever having sex with a man or woman ever again. How very exciting. Wow. What if I just shut that part of my life off completely? What if I just stopped obsessing about sex and love? What if I just -- was?

(This idea spawned from two things – the yearly freak-out trip to the OBGYN and a party conversation where folks were discussing the longest period of time they’ve gone without sex. They threw out 2 years – 3 years – 4 years… I threw out 19 years, but since then, it’s never been more than a year without fucking. Well, fuck me.)