A Bit Bitter

Yesterday I spoke with Carine Dion (refresher: she's the friend I just visited in London). She just saw The Englishman for the first time since the condom incident. Despite me telling her to not worry about it, she gave him the cold shoulder. They spent a few days together over Christmas, and he finally broke... his diatribe went something like this:

"I can't take you being like this to me... I can't stand it... I'm going back to London if you're going to treat me this way... you can't be mad... she (that'd be ME) did it to me 2 years ago... she had a boyfriend when we slept together... yada-yada"

Anyway, this pisses me off for many reasons:

a) I did NOT have a boyfriend, which I specifically made a point of reminding him via-email recently... that guy I had dated, merely, dated for 2 weeks prior, and that guy had even hooked-up w/ some chick over break too

b) even still, it's nowhere near the immaturity level of what he did, so don't even compare the incidents, and

C-C-C) we did NOT sleep together (2 years ago)... in fact, my pants stayed ON the entire time!!! and NOT on in the sense that they were wrapped around my ankles... in the sense that they were not down at all!!! When he told this to Carine Dion, she immediately thought I'd lied to her... NOT the case!!! Over the phone she said, "you can tell me if you did... I won't be mad." Oh my god, now she thinks I wouldn't have told her?!?!?

Needless to say, I was slightly bent out of shape to hear his comments. Because he felt like an ass for his own wrongdoings, he decided to throw my ass under the bus w/ such absurd falsities. YET ANOTHER COMPLETELY IMMATURE WAY OF HANDLING THINGS!!!

I decided to send him a scathing email... pointing out the fact that I thought things were cool... I did not in anyway fuel Carine Dion's fire, and I didn't appreciate him slandering my character for his own benefit. I was more offended about his remarks than I was about the condom incident. FUCK HIM. There goes my romantic idea of a man in which I could fall soundly asleep.

4 Hours:

I decided to MySpace 4 Hours yesterday evening... something to the effect of: "I kept meaning to email, but you know, the holidaaaze are always so busy, and I'm sure you meant to email me too, hahaha (yes, sarcasm)... thanks for the other night... I think we both know we're still friends... blah-blah-blah."

I thought it a relatively light-hearted follow-up to a night of fucking between friends. And it was sent a full week later... For those of you who don't use MySpace, you can see when a person's read your message. He's read it and did not reply. It's rather disappointing because we are friends / were friends / were whatever... he could have just acknowledged it with a, "yeah it was fun... good to see you." Or something of the like. But instead, he read it... discarded it and that's that.

It made me a bit sad. Made me feel silly.

Let's just say 2006 hasn't been a year of good experiences with any men. 2005 I'd have said the situation w/ The Brother was great because although it didn't work, we have a wonderful friendship as a result...

Again, why oh why can't i rid myself of any such desire... okay, well instead of wishing to rid myself of the desire why can't I just find someone who makes me feel less alone in the world... someone who makes my heart pitter-patter... someone I can look at with wide-eyes and know he knows what I'm thinking... someone I can go hide in my parents' room and watch movies with during big family events... or someone who'll go to London with me and roll joints with Carine Dion and her boyfriend and watch British comedies like Peep Show.

Hmm.

Or perhaps... just someone who can be my romantic idea to fall asleep to.

I'd Say This is a Pretty Boring X-Mas Post

I actually had a pretty fucking rad Christmas... I got dinero for my Mountain Bike, yeay, the new Morissey cd, remastered NIN Pretty Hate Machine, champagne glasses, wine glasses, underwear, gift certificates, director Mark Romanek's dvd collection... I know you all want to know what I got... hahaha... I think I'm going to buy Tool's newest album w/ my iTunes gift certificate.

I caught up w/ my step-dad's side of the family... we installed a new family tradition of taking shots of tequila at the kids' table... of course, the kids' table is now the young adult table, but still.

Caught-up w/ a couple of high school friends... one of them has quite the list of New Year's resolutions... one being, to find what makes her smile. I thought that was pretty beautiful.

What Makes Me Smile:

- Live music, of course... and anything music related
- Foreign countries and foreign people, living abroad
- Doing things by myself
- Romance novels
- Anything film related... film fests especially
- My family
- Dancing


Housing News:

Still a big SHIT... don't know what I'm going to do, and I need to figure it out soon... and of course, the prospect of a position abroad isn't going to be determined for sometime... yeah, a "shit what am i going to do." The unknown is attractive, but drives me slightly nuts at the same time... but i do like nuts.

Getting Fucked:

I kinda' wish I could get fucked again before 4 hours leaves town... but, he's always been the reluctant party... I sometimes feel inadequate around him... like I'm truly just not good enough... obviously, that's a situation and a thought I should veer away from... and when I feel complete listening to live music or loving a film or dancing or making random friends, I wonder why for a second I would ever feel inadequate... but we all have our insecure moments.

I Got Fucked Last Night

Let's call him 4 Hours because that's how long we'd talk on the phone when I was 21. We hooked up a couple times my senior year at Berkeley, but it never went further... Over the years we kept in touch... mostly because we'd bump into one another in the most random places... it almost became a joke how random it was.

Anyway, he's living in NYC and came back to see him family for the holidays. We decided to go to UM, WHERE!?!?!? Cheers.

I was interested to see how Obsession would react having me bring another guy... he was cool (unfortunatley, hahaha!)... the three of us chatted a bit... Obsession still gave us free drinks, aww nice. I've lost my voice, so he was giving me Ricola's... sweet :)

Things with me and 4 Hours have been strictly platonic for 7 years... I mean, I really didn't think of him that way at all. Not at all. We talk about people we're dating... recent fucks... std's...everything... but never in relation to the two of us.

We were having such good conversation that as the cab pulled up, I said, "wanna come over?"

He opened the cab door, "yup."

Stupid me, still didn't think anything was going to happen. I just thought we were going to continue chatting for a while.

But then I had an urge... I just wrapped my arm around his waste, and the kissing began.

I liked kissing him.

Then we began fucking.

I liked fucking him.

I really did.

It was doggie on the floor... some light hair-pulling... he went down... I went down... he praised my skills (of course)... me on my stomach... him on his stomach... good ole' fucking.

Then he slept over... the morning was sweet... I had a bit of a cough, and he rubbed my back... I played with his hair.

And that was that. I probably won't see him for a year or so... but, we had fun. Kinda' anti-climactic, but a lovely and very surprising evening.

How I'm Like A Gay Man

So we have some "hate-a's"... well, I admitted this the other night to some friends. As pissed as I was at the time about the condom incident (please refer to the: Useless Heartache post on Dec 7th, scroll down to THE GOODS section at the bottom)... okay, wait just a second... I've been in a couple of relationships where my sex drive was a bit higher than my male counterpart... these male counterparts were oooh, about 10 years older... The Englishman is about 3.5 years younger, shit, wow.

Anyway, The Englishman bangs a chick twice before I arrive... in that 4 to 5 hour period since I'd last seen him... I was naturally hurt... later, however, I was like 'hmm... that's kinda' hot... he was so horny he couldn't even resist... wow.'

One of my good gay male friends said (maybe I've alreayd written this, but anyway), "Miss Curious, in the gay-man's world, we'd see the condom... put two and two together and be like, 'haaaaaaaay, is that guy still here? He should join us.' "

Part of me is like, 'fuck, why didn't I think of that?!?!' That's what makes me a slightly fucked in the head woman. Oh well.

Sure it was disrespectful, kinda' dick, whatever. We weren't committed... I was leaving in a day, and who knows when we'd ever see one another again... it was just fun times anyway. I can be disappointed 'cuz I didn't get to fuck him that night, as I had to act like I had some self-respect, hahaha.

But really, it's not like anything's ever going to come of this except for a few masturbatory fantasies... and drunkenly sinking into a cold cab seat at the end of the night thinking of how lovely it'd be to go home to his warm body.

Just A Little Crush...

Okay, so I'll admit... despite the condom incident, I do have a bit of a crush on the Englishman. We've been emailing since (more than just his profuse apologies), and I know he really is a sweet-sweet guy. What he did was more out of youthful idiocy versus being a bonafied asshole. It'd be lovely just to have him grow-up a tad and then find me... hahahaha. It was just so comfortable in his arms... Look at me being such a silly - silly girl.

He reminds me of Mr. Lost His Mind Christian... in the ways that made me fall for him and obviously not the ways in which it ended... he's just this tender protector... he notices the little things... you didn't think he was listening and much later he says something that shows not only was he listening, but he heard it.

Anyway, he's just an idea I like falling asleep to...

I'm Such a Fuck!!!

I really don't think it's possible for me to be in a worse mood. The impending transitional period has me yet again in a panic. Of course my roommate is giving her notice in the middle of the holiday season, and I have no idea if I can stay at the apartment or have 30 fucking days to find a new place (a-fucking-gain) or if I'm going abroad. I swear to fucking god my housing situation is like a cd wrapper i can't ever get off... I just want to listen to that fucking cd already... I just want to settle into a goddamn home...................... uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

AND, I can't get the fucking Sound of Music "Yodel" song out of my head... I'm walking around cussing under my breath and then yodeling?!?!?! What the fuck!?!??!

AND, I was supposed to get together with Bad-Break Up this weekend... we spoke last weekend, and I told him I was going to be housesitting in the east bay... he said he was free all weekend and to let him know what worked... once we found a time that worked for the both us, I said I'd give him a call that day to hammer out the details, but we have a time set... I gave that call and had no call back. Fuck That!!! I will NOT make an effort to hang out with him because I can't stand when people pull shit like this... it's like be a fucking adult and just call to say it won't work... sure 3 years ago, I stood him up once, but that's because we didn't have cell phones, and I couldn't catch him before he left his house... but I left a couple of messages, so it doesn't count!!!

LAST THURSDAY:

Last thursday was our company Christmas party... at my work, a party with an open bar is fucking trou-ble. We all proceeded to get shitfaced... one of my co-workers had her son pick us up... she managed to barf all over the dashboard and side of her car. My friend and I got sprinkled with her risotto upchuck... I yelled, "quick run for cover (reminder: we were in the car)," and put my coat over us. Since I was happy wasted, I thought it was funny... she felt awful, so we relayed our stories of car and cab barfing... like when I barfed in my paperboy hat 2 years ago. Awesome night.

Anyway, her son dropped her off at home and took us to a bar. What the fuck?!?!!? And for some ODD reason, I had enough sense to start drinking only water. Then, had the 2 am hash browns and burger (red meat?!?!) at the local diner.

I, however, did NOT have enough sense to bridle my urge for reckless drunk dialing. And I mean RECKLESS... I mean, I went down the list... called a cousin at Princeton (yeah, East Coast time) that I hadn't talked to in almost 2 years... shit, I'm going to see him this weekend for his family to make fun of me!!! I had a great couple chats with Green Eyes, who gets these wax nostalgic rants from me. I also, oh fuck, finally called Mr. Lost His Mind Christian's sister... she didn't pick up. I left a message... and - and - and, the next day she called back and left me the best message ever... now we're playing phone tag... she didn't give me any details about him, but said to please call her... she was so happy to hear from me. I always did love her.

And I keep replaying that condom night in my head. I've said this before, I often wish I had no desire for men... that I wasn't affected by them... bleh!

Anyway, I'm totally NOT PMS'ing... but I just guess I'm so busy w/ the holidays and had a couple bombs dropped on me, and feel frazzled.... can't I be settled already!?!?! :)

J-Do: you're badass... don't think this is any reflection of how I feel about your "stuff" because it sounds amazing... I, of course, just keep missing your calls :( ... and love to hammer stuff out.

Seriously?

Seriously, how the fuck do celebrities still get pictures of their pussies plastered all over the news?!?! Didn't they learn from Paris or Lindsey Lohan or Tori Amos?!?! Could the most recent crotch shot of Britney Spears have been done on purpose??? I mean, who wears a skirt as short as hers with absolutely NADA underneath... NADA hair too... and is going out w/ high profile talentless peeps, who will undoubtedly have a slew of paparazzi watching their skirts every move. Wild.

BELLY BUTTONS:

Okay, what is proper maintenance for belly buttons? I mean, do people just leave them or get all up in there and clean that shit out?? ... not that there really is shit to be cleaned out, but every once in a while, I'm like, "oh."

And then, do chicks like having their belly buttons licked and shit? Personally, I'm not into that... guys just need to know that the belly button is NOT A VAGINA!!! They always want to lick it thinking it's your clit or something... and then, in college, I've known a few men who even tried to fuck a belly button or two. What the hell?!?!?

HOUSING NEWS:

Just this morning, my roommate calls me into her bedroom. As some of you know, she and her boyfriend broke-up several months ago... and just a couple of weeks ago, they had a drunken hook-up... and then, recently as well. But there were no talks of getting back together.

Anyway, she gives me the I have some not so good news face and tells me that as of February, she'll be moving in with him. What!?!??!?!?!?!?!? That came from NOWHERE!!!

What does this mean for me? It means that if I can even stay, my rent would significantly go up, and I'd have to find a roommate immediately (now, I'm merely subleting). Shitty. But - But - But, this is oddly coincidental because there's a slight (yes, slight) chance that I may move abroad for an unspecified amount of time, but no less than 6 months. Part of me wonders if this coincidence is all the more impetus for making that move. One of my top reasons NOT to go abroad is that I love my little place and for the past 8 years, I haven't lived in the same residence for 12 months. I really do love my little room (see below). Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. But that abroad move it still very much in the air, and I will not discuss it further until I have more information... but it sounds likely.

If Only...

Obsession knows exactly how to me absolutely insane. Last night was BFF and my Holiday Sangria Session, minus the sangria and replaced with mojitos and Stella Artois. Where? Cheers, of course… and big fucking surprise, who was working? Obsession.
(maybe BFF has some words to add to this post? opinions?)

We chat for a while. He tells us how he broke up with his girlfriend and how he’s now couch hopping until she moves out. We then discussed the catalysts for their break-up. I continued with my newfound beliefs on relationships, short and simple – relationships are much too difficult. Too forced. Since I’m all about avoiding them now and for however long I can hold out, the obvious solution is to find a guy to have sex with – fulfill that occasional need for physical contact… and then, have my friends give me the companionship… and with Midge moving back, I’ll have an even stronger sense of that.

At the end of the night, he asks for my email… he then remarks, “once my girlfriend moves out, how about I become that person for you?”

“I don’t think you can keep up.” I retort.

“I’m sure I can… and there’s always Viagra.”

“I don’t just mean in that sense.”

“Harsh.”

“Anyway, I’ll see you later.”

Why oh why must he tease me so?!?! Of course, I can’t take any of his flirtatious words like this seriously because he’s done it so much in the past, but it’s still kinda’ fun. If only…

Mixed-Mas

When I got back from London, I of course immediately had to go to Amoeba and buy a CD I’d desperately been wanting. I’m looking through all the CD’s, and it’s not there. This guy asks me if I need help.

“Oh no… it’s just not here,” I replied being somewhat intimidated by those holier-than-thou hipster music store boys.

“No question’s a stupid question. Are you sure? I bet I can find it for you.” He insists.

“No, really… it’s okay.”

“Well, what is it you’re looking for?” He pleads, apparently really wanting to help me. Hm.

“Okay… it’s Rykarda Parasol.”

He turns to the guy next to him and asks where it is. Once he walks me over to it, he says, “I asked that guy where it was because he’s in the band, and he’s pretty amazing.”

What a fucking coincidence. How crazy is that? Is that not totally random?!?!

Yesterday, The Brother and I spoke a gazillion times… he’s now dating some new chick, and I’ll admit, there was a tinge of jealousy. He dates more than anyone I know, Jesus!!! After I told him this Amoeba story (which is more exciting to me than anyone else of course), he proceeds to tell me about Fall Out Boy’s appearance on Jimmy Kimmel. Jimmy Kimmel asked them who they’re listening to these days, and one of them says, “I’m really into A Band Called Pain.” Um, that’s The Brother’s band… how fucking rad is that?!?!?! Also, the intro music for Dane Cook’s Tourgasm or some shit like that is also The Brother’s band.

The Englishman… we’ve emailed a couple more times… I guess there’s really no point. I probably won’t see him for another 8 months… and he’s young… AND I STILL FEEL HUMILIATED. And I just have to wonder – why did that happen? Why did he have to do that that one night… what the fuck did I need to learn? What was to come from that except for me feeling like a foolish naïve girl??? I’ve felt like that plenty. I just don’t understand. It did – It did really hurt…. Uhhhh… I vividly remember looking at the condom – looking at his face and realizing what had happened and clenching my jaw and trying my hardest not show any emotion… trying my hardest to act completely un-phased… just trying my hardest to turn-off… to hold my chin up… to catch my breath.

This coming weekend, me and Bad Break-Up are getting together... this will be the first time we've seen each other in almost 3 years. Again, this is strictly platonic. He is very much in love with his new girlfriend... it'll be nice to finally see one another on good terms... to put the past behind us and laugh.

12 Good Reasons NOT to Have a Boyfriend Over the Holidays:

1. You can pig out as much as you want with no one watching.
2. You don’t have to buy some huge expensive gift and stress out about how you’re going to afford buying anyone else anything because you have this retarded boyfriend who wants the new PlayStation.
3. When you break-up a month later, it won’t sting every time you get into your bed with the 800 thread-count sheets he just bought you for Christmas.
4. You don’t have to go visit his parents and pretend to enjoy conversations that you just can’t wait to get out of.
5. You don’t have to pretend you like what his mom buys you.
6. You won’t get pissed that he’s planned ZERO for New Year’s… you want him to take charge, and since he doesn’t, you have yet another good reason to argue.
7. You can get wasted at your company holiday party and hook-up with some guy you’re not supposed to and then you can blame it all on the holiday season.
8. You can sit on Santa’s lap guilt free.
9. You can eat as many of Santa’s elves’ candy canes as you’d like.
10. One less person to make time for.
11. Every time you look at the big, thick, long Christmas tree, you won’t think of all your boyfriend’s inadequacies.
12. You have a reason for the holiday blues… “If only I had a boyfriend, then I’d be happy.” But if you had one and you still weren’t happy, then you’d be royally fucked!!!

WHAT TO MAKE OF THIS?

AS PROMISED, HERE IS THAT EMAIL EXCHANGE... IF YOU HAVEN'T READ "THE GOODS" FROM YESTERDAY'S POST, YOU'LL NEED TO DO THAT TO HAVE ANY IDEA AS TO WHAT THIS IS ABOUT.


THE ENGLISHMAN:

I know you probably won’t want to read this, but I want to let you know that I am very sorry and feel really awful about what I did last Saturday. It was a terrible mistake made in the spur of a moment and not something that I was seeking out to do to you. I wish that I could turn back time and not have done this. However, I can’t, and I did do the most hollow, insensitive thing imaginable and have no excuse for my behaviour.

I really like you and enjoyed hanging out with you so much, but I know that you must hate me and feel hurt. This ordeal has taught me a big lesson. I do not deserve or expect to be forgiven. I just wanted you to know that I’m so, so sorry Miss Curious. (I love the double “so’s”)


MISS CURIOUS:

My feelings are far from being those of hate. More than anything I feel extremely foolish and disappointed. You had no commitment to me, and you were free to be physical with whomever you chose. However, I thought we both had a mutual respect for one another, and I believed common decency would have prevented you from what transpired.

It also stung a bit more when I realized that you had used the protection I'd given you... and I had even said for you not to use them with anyone else... I never in a million years would have thought you really would. Needless to say, I was very surprised, shocked in fact, when I put the pieces together.

What I liked most about you was what seemed to be a kind heart... despite your comments that I merely wanted you for your appearance and sex. It doesn't take me very long to discover how I feel about a person, and I truly liked you.

But in the end, we only hung out a couple of days... certainly not enough time to warrant any hate... it simply revealed another side of your personality that, in the future, I do not foresee a physical relationship... I see no reason why we couldn't be amicable acquaintances.

I do understand you're younger than I and are amidst those uncontrollable boyish sex days, and that's what you were doing that night... I am also to blame for having silly expectations... So yes, you are forgiven. I appreciate your apology.

And, I must ask... what lesson has it taught you?


THE ENGLISHMAN:

You certainly shouldn’t feel foolish although I can fully understand your disappointment. To be honest, I am scared, disappointed, and shocked with myself by how much of a shit I was... I never thought I would do such a thing and know this is not the path for me ever again.
First, I learned that if you like someone a lot, as I do with you, that you can’t just float around and go with the flow whenever you’re drunk and jumped on by someone else.
Secondly, I learned, in the most insensitive horrible way ever, was that I did mean something to you because I wasn’t sure. (Hmm. Interesting)

But mostly, I learned how sad and upset I feel to know that I ruined our friendship/trust and made you feel hurt as if you meant nothing to me (which isn’t true but I really fucked up so I can’t possibly convince you of this). (Hmm… I meant something to him?)

Sorry. I will leave you alone now. Thank you so much for even replying let alone accepting my apology... I’m truly in awe that you could be that forgiving...I honestly won’t forgive myself for a very long time.


MISS CURIOUS:

You're being much too hard on yourself. You made a mistake... it's quite alright. You clearly learned some lessons, and that's the end of it. Your emails seem to be pretty sincere (i hope)... and I really do appreciate it, thank you.

So, you really didn't know that I liked you? I was constantly next to you... I wanted to be... and I listened to every word you said. I didn't think you liked me... well, for anything more than hooking-up/having sex... well, you did like me more than that? Just curious :) (Miss Curious is just Curious, what a fucking surprise!!!)


THE ENGLISHMAN:

Yes I do like you, and I also think you’re really funny (Yes I am!!!)... not at all pretentious unlike most people, and I feel I can relax with you which is a rare thing for me. I wasn’t sure you liked me because when we met in New York, you had a boyfriend, and I didn’t know what the deal was this time really. I think Carine Dion is really mad at me and I might stay out of her way until maybe Christmas! Then, she can have a go at me in front of my mum and grandma… that would be brilliant! (definitely not!)

USELESS HEARTACHE

This is theeee longest post of mine… ever!!! The Beginning is the low-down on the New Hampshire / Massachusetts trip… the 2nd half has the GOODS on the Englishman (Carine Dion’s boyfriend’s brother… and they are GOODS and not necessarily good GOODS… scroll down if you bore easily)

There were some things that just shouldn’t have happened. Despite those moments where my heart hurt, did I have pleasurable vacation?

- Dad: Renting a room in his 3rd ex-wife’s house with her 2 sons and my 7 year old half sister. He’s addicted to cruises and dates on match.com. He has an awful temper, and nothing is ever his fault. 8 years ago, I redefined my relationship with him… which consists of watching sports and discussing organic foods and homeopathy. It was good seeing him.

- My Half Brothers: One’s almost 20, the other is 17. On this trip I unfortunately discovered the size of their penises. This was a revelation from my 2 ex-step brothers. 20 yr old is 9 inches and 17 year old is 7.5 inches. This is pretty fucking disgusting of me to report, and I was horrified to have even heard the word ‘penis’ in front of my brothers… but, as insane as I am, I was actually kinda’ proud… like a dad is when his son first gets some ass. 20 yr old and I played Bud Light drinking games in the garage and smoked fat blunts under the New England stars. 17 yr old told me about how his new girlfriend’s desktop image was of him before she even met him. Apparently, a friend of hers from my bro’s high school forwarded it her as they both drooled over him. Months later she met him face to face, and the rest is history. Oddly, that didn’t freak him out.


(ME AND MY BRO PLAYING BUD LIGHT GAMES)


- My Half Sister: 15 yrs old. She’s a cute lil’ cheerleader with abnormal strength. She can walk on her hands just as easily as she can on her feet. She loves her boyfriend. I’ve called her Bob since she was 7 years old. I still can’t remember why… she’s always called me Farts, and I know exactly why.

- 2nd Ex-Wife: She’s been married to anti-My Dad for 6 years, and she still shits wherever anti-Dad isn’t. She put make-up on when my sister and I unexpectedly arrived at 1:30 in the morning. She drank too much wine and told us our dad wasn’t capable of loving us. I’m never his defender, but I know he does and so do all my other bros and sisters. We were on one side and she cried on the other side. THIS SHOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED. Then I felt like shit for making her cry. My brother and I later confessed that all we could think about was smoking a joint to escape this conversation. She divorced my dad 11 years ago. There is so much hate there. It made MY HEART HURT. I start thinking about marriage being shitty and the only deviation is my Mom and Step-Dad. Not enough good marriages to convince me that true love exists.

- My Nana Banana (Dad’s Mom): Lives in the high-crime area of Boston with my cousins, who stay there because my aunt disappeared 3 months ago on some drug-spree. No one knows where she is. My other cousin no longer lives there… last visit he had that ankle bracelet-house-arrest bit just like Martha Stewart. I told him that once it’s removed, I’d give him a list of things I’d like stolen. He said okay, and unfortunately, I think he really meant it. At Nana’s we ate brownies and talked about our cousin’s new old English tattoos of our family name. I kinda’ like it.

- My Uncle B. (Dad’s Brother): He’s in his 50’s and still lives with Nana Banana and my cousins. He stands up at his AA meetings and tells everyone he’s been sober for 5 years. Then he goes to the bar and drinks. He showed us pictures of his recent trip to Hawaii with his AA friends. They think he’s sober too.

- My Aunt and Uncle (Mom’s Sister): Her husband is 27 years older. She always talks about his fat sausage. I beg her not to. Everyone thought she married him for money when she was 23 and he was 50... they've been married for 20 years now... fuck everyone else! We ate burnt muffins. I argued with my older sister like a fucking 5 year old… I’d ask her to turn the tv down, she’d turn it up kinda’ thing. I worried I’d get arrested for killing her. I didn’t.


(ME ON THE FARM IN MASSACHUSETTS WITH MY AUNT)


LONDON:

Since I’d been in some insane situations abroad, I was fairly cavalier about visiting Carine Dion. So I wasn’t sweatin’ the fact that I’d forgotten her address. She ordered me a mini-cab, and I knew the driver would have the address. After a redeye flight, I hopped in the mini-cab around 5 am… the cab driver was preaching Jehovah’s Witness and didn’t seem to really know where we were going.

When we arrived at my friend’s house, I told him to wait just a second while I rang her bell to ensure the address was correct (it just wasn’t feeling quite right)… I knew she lived on the bottom flat, so I buzzed the door… an Englishwoman, clearly not my American friend, spoke through the intercom. “Oh fuck,” I thought… but then, she quickly appeased my worry when she said I must be looking for the American girl in the middle flat. I motioned to the cabby to go ahead… that this was the place. It’s 6:30 am, and she’s not answering. After about 20 minutes, I decided to leave my luggage and find a pay phone… I called her number only to realize it was her work number Fuck!!! I walked back to her place. Rang the bell again… still no answer. It’d been about a 40 minutes now. I decided to camp out on her doorstep thinking that someone would come out on their way to work… someone did… I went inside to go bang on her door. It’s an American girl’s voice, but NOT Carine Dion’s. Fuck – Fuck – Fuck. She yells on the other side of the door, “Are you who’s been ringing my bell all morning?!?!”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry… I was dropped off at the wrong house!”

“I almost called the cops… get the address right next time!” She bitched out.

There I was, on the street following my visible breath… no address, no telephone number, nothing. I then decided to call my little sister 3 am her time on a Tuesday night. And finally my luck changed… my little sister answered the phone… gave me their address, their home number… and after 55 bucks in International and Local phone calls, Carine Dion found me.


(THIS IS WERE I WASN'T DROPPED OFF!!! THAT MOTHERFUCKER CAB DRIVER!!!)


After some catching up, the Englishman came over. He looked so adorable in his blue corduroys and black sweatshirt. We all chatted for hours. I was aware of his presence the entire time… acute attention to anytime he touched me… at the end of the night, I got up to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek… as I pulled away, he pulled me in, and we kiss… softly at first… and then, we walked into the hallway where he proceeded to penetrate my mouth with his tongue in a way that has never made me feel like I wanted to throw him down and fuck the shit out of his… his hands were all over my clothed body… we kissed furiously as though we’d both been waiting the entire to years to do this.

The next day I went to some of my favorite old haunts, National Gallery, Trafalgar Square… all I could think about was that kiss – that consuming kiss... the next day I met up with an old roommate of mine from my year study abroad… we camped out at a pub and caught up on crazy times.


(ME AND CARINE DION IN FRONT OF MY 2ND FAVORITE ART GALLERY IN ALL OF EUROPE)


THE GOODS:

That night, I would see my Englishman again. We were meeting at a bar in Camden… he was late. I pretended to engage myself in conversation with my friends, but all I could do was watch the door for his arrival. I kept going to the bathroom in hopes of occupying my time and coming back to see him there. Finally, he made it… he sat next to me, and we chatted the evening away… he’s completely sarcastic, open-minded, observant… a sculptor with amazing hands, shit. Walking to the next bar, I linked my arm through his. Once we arrived we again sat next to one another… he put his arm around me… I nuzzled his chest… we kissed.

He came back to our place… and we spent the evening licking and sucking one another’s body… and Carine Dion, being open to whatever might happen, supplied us with 4 condoms… that night, we used one. His favorite position, and one of which I’m quite fond, is with me lying flat on my stomach with my legs in a V… he then lies on his stomach on top of my back… I loved hearing his breath in my ear as he thrusted away.

We hooked up more the next morning… he reminded to come to his party that night and said that I could spend the night… I handed him the left over condoms and told him these were for then and playfully told him, “don’t use those with anyone else!” He stayed with us for the whole day, cuddling, holding hands until he had to go help Carine Dion’s other good friend set up the party at their house.

We called when we were on our way. Carine Dion suggested putting our coats and purses in his room… when I set down my purse on his bed, I noticed a used condom right next to it and said, “Carine, oh my god… someone at the party totally had sex in Englishman’s bed… poor guy… he’ll be pissed.” I see a papertowel atop the trashcan and thought I’d be nice and throw away the condom… gross, I know. But OH NO, there in the trashcan is yet another used condom AND AND AND it was the condom I GAVE HIM!!!!! Never in a million years would I have thought he really would use the condoms with another person. I was stunned as FUCK!!!

Carine Dion was like, “No – no… there is some reasonable explanation… someone else must have used these.”

In walks the Englishman. He sees what we see, turns beat red and says, “I’m such a shit… I’m such an asshole… I can’t believe myself.”

Our jaws are dropped… it was only 9 pm… we’d said good-bye to him around 4 pm… and somewhere in between, he’d already fucked some chick TWICE!!!

He tried to explain. We walked up to the party as it was mainly for Carine’s other good friend… we said hello to him… and I quickly looked Carine in the eyes and said, “let’s leave now.”

There was something about her response that was so comforting… all she said was “okay,” but it was the look of understanding on her face that relieved me.

He chased after me and said, “don’t go.” We stood there outside of his house, under the sallow glow of the London street lights… it was quiet. He apologized again and again… and told me how he’d always been shy and until recently he’s overcome his social anxieties and doesn’t know what to do w/ the attention he gets… and he told me some other story of how he’s been fucking up lately (that incident was drug related and not female related) and doesn’t know what’s wrong with him… I felt like we were in some 80’s movie… some moment of truth where you think the hero and heroine are finally going to get together, but then someone (usually the guy) fucks up… and like these good old 80’s teen movies, the Englishman couldn’t even look me in the eyes. As he looked away, I could see the tears well up, aw, a dramatic moment indeed. Although I was feeling hurt and foolish, I still felt badly for him – how weird is that?!!?!? It’s like I kinda’ knew him… and knew how he’d struggled.

I expressed how silly I felt and told him of course I was leaving… he told me he’d be miserable for the rest of the night… I laughed that off… and then he asked if he could at least kiss me good-bye… I laughed that off too and retorted, “I don’t know where that mouth has been tonight.” Kiss him with the taste of someone else on his mouth?!?! Are you fucking kidding me. THIS JUST DIDN'T NEED TO HAPPEN?!?!? WHY? WHAT LESSON DID I NEED TO LEARN!?!?!? I DON'T UNDERSTAND. USELESS HEARTACHE.

I held my chin up high, and I walked away.



(MY ENGLISHMAN ON THE LEFT... CARINE DION'S BF ON THE RIGHT)


TO CONCLUDE:

Although I made my ex-step mom cry AND argued uncontrollably with my older sister to the point where I worried I’d kill her in my sleep AND got dropped off at the wrong house in England and almost had the cops called on me AND had the guy who made my heart pitter-patter, pitter-pattered away with my condoms and another chick, I STILL HAD A REALLY REALLY GOOD TIME… the good moments FAR EXCEEDED these… my brothers and sisters (minus the battles my older sister and I had) are the loves of my life… and Carine Dion and I for the first time in 7 years were mentally in the same spot… and she could look at me and know exactly what I’d be thinking and know exactly what I wanted to her to say or do or this or that… it was so nice to be known.

Tuesday when I got back, there was an email in my inbox… from the Englishman. It was an apology. We’ve sent a couple emails back and forth now, and I will post them tomorrow, so stay tuned!!!