Dug My Own Fucking Grave, Comical

I am such a fucking idiot.

I totally fell for Flava Flav’s bullshit and got totally fucked.

I couldn’t have screamed louder warnings to myself.

And I couldn’t even imagine actually having real feelings for the bastard.

I mean he was irritating as fuck.

Sometimes I would just sign off G-Talk mid-conversation because I couldn’t stand how juvenile he was.

Here I am today, slightly sick to stomach.

I thought he was merely a little MySpace toy.

But then, he grew on me. It was like sharing a bench with someone who was shaking his leg as a nervous habit, and I’d want to reach over and slug the guy. Instead, the irritating shake suddenly became comforting.

He wanted to see me this past weekend. I was reluctant and tired and couldn’t really be bothered. Friday night, however, I got in a bit of a reality t.v. show argument with one of my roommates’ dudes. I wanted to get outta’ the house, so I called Flava Flav. I met up with him and his friends, who just happened to be around the corner from my house. He later told me he planned that just in case I changed my mind.

In my damsel in distress mode, he swooped in and comforted me.

The next morning he told me that fucking me felt different because he started having even stronger feelings for me. I told him that kissing felt different that I actually started having feelings for him as well.

After he left on Saturday, I left him a message saying that I already missed him. He called me right back and said he was going to save the message.

I knew he going out with the boys that night, and I knew there was the chance he’d hook-up because he tells me all the time his way to combat his severe insecurities is by hooking-up with chicks. Fucking lame! I always laughed at that… to his face.

At 11 pm that night he texts me, “how late are you going to be up,” he wanted to come over.

I was tired and said I was already in bed.

Sunday comes along. We talk. I ask if he hooked-up with anyone. Not really thinking he did because he wanted me at 11 pm.

Turns out, he then texted his ex-girlfriend, told her to come over and then fucked the shit out of her.

He is so fucking lame… he is so fucking pathetic!!!

And yet, I felt hurt. I didn’t understand how he could do that. Guess he’s just one fucked up cat.

That’s the end of him. I can’t deal with that bullshit, and I’m fucking idiot for even letting myself go there.

This dude is just a BLIP, a BLIP… 6 months from now, I won’t even remember his name… and that’s just fine.

Now, here we are… a totally clean slate for real this time.


RANDOM INVITE:

On Friday, I got an email from DV… the ex-boyfriend, who got me all bent outta’ shape that I started this blog… out of all the dudes I’ve ever called a boyfriend, he was the only one that ever dumped my ass... and for months, I put up with his insecure ass saying, “you’re gonna’ dump me, aren’t you.” Half the time I sure as hell wanted to especially after saying shit like that, but then, he beat me to it.

Anyway, he invited me to the opening of the San Francisco International Film Festival where attendees included Francis Ford Coppola, Sofia Coppola, George Lucas, Clint Eastwood… at first I said yes, then I called and said no. Frankly, I just didn’t feel like it. I sorta had plans anyway, and I didn’t want to bail.

It was just a very random invite. The last time I saw him was outside some bar where he later texted, “that was weird,” and I texted back, “not for me.” End of story.


ON MY WAY TO WORK SONGS:

Idioteque, Radiohead
For Real, Okkervil River

SHOWS THIS WEEK:

Tapes N’ Tapes at Great American

EXCITING NEWS FOR THE WEEK:

Tori Amos’ new album is being released tomorrow

TONIGHT, FIRST NIGHT OF NO MORE MONDAY NIGHT DICE. Flava Flav played a nice little distraction, so iBartender was totally out of my mind… and actually, kinda’ gone from my mind. Guess I wasn’t really that into him afterall. Cool.



GIVE ME A MINUTE.

Good Night, and Good Luck

Last night marked the end of a 3 and half month game of Monday Night Dice. iBartender's last night is technically next Monday, but I’m unable to attend, so this was it. This was the last time I was ever going to see my Monday Night Super Crush.

When I arrived at the bar, iBartender and I had our usual salutations. This time, however, there were no offers of free drinks… and after some time, I asked if I could play my iPod for old time’s sake.

iBartender, “well, I’m a bit hung-over today, so I kinda’ want to listen to my mellow mix… maybe next Monday.”

Now that was the first time he ever said no to me. And knowing that the following Monday would be the last time we had at the bar, he said, “MAYBE.” Not even, how about next week?

Okay, for the last couple of months, he’s let me play my iPod… and then, suddenly, it’s a big fat NO?!?! and a big fat MAYBE next week?!?! It was always appreciated and never expected, but this was the last Monday Night Dice… the very last… and my iPod play-lists made us friends… sorta’.

Needless to say, I was pissed. Obviously, he didn’t acknowledge any Monday Night nostalgia. He just didn’t give a fuck.

Tall K was wide-eyed and whispered to me, “wow… what a fucking slap in the face… what happened to your Whatever You-Want-Miss-Curious days?”

As I said, I was pissed, and someone who’s pissed typically acts pissy. So I did. I acted so fucking pissy. A petulant child I was.

I made caustic remarks like, “hey iBartender, when you’re done being all bent outta’ shape can I get such and such?”

From afar he’d reply, “huh?”

Tall K would interject and act like I made some normal request with nice words that sounded like the bitchy words that I really used.

Sensing my irritation, iBartender brought over a napkin and a marker and started my drink list as some sort of peace offering. (I often made drink lists to avoid going overboard.) He’d never made my drink list before, so this was something new.

But I still remained a big fat grouch.

Tall K would catch me barstool dancing mid-dice game and comment, “oh look who’s enjoying herself now.”

I’d swiftly shift back into bad-mood mode and make some quip, “I suddenly hate this song!”

It kinda’ became a fun joke with me and Tall K… ya know, something to do other than play dice… play mean. Tall K loves mean Miss Curious… he thinks it’s “Fresh & Fun.”

When I got up to go to the bathroom, apparently iBartender bee-lined for Tall K and asked him, “did I do something wrong? Is she mad at me?”

Tall K simply replied, “oh, no.”

End of conversation.

I came back and thought of a million things Tall K should have said… missed opportunity. Dammit!

After last week, when iBartender told me there was some chick he was into, my first thought is the quintessential Tori Amos lyrics, “maybe she’s just pieces of me you’ve never seen.” But then, I actually wasn’t feeling dramatic enough.

I did wonder though… who was this woman who stole Mr. Uber Flirtatious iBartender’s seemingly impossible to attain heart?

Sometimes, just sometimes… funny things happen… funny small world things… and so, last night, I saw his chick from afar… she breezed in for just a moment… they had their longing stares and lingering hand-holding… and I recognized her. I knew/know her!!!

In fact, Ms. Attained the Unattainable Heart, used to work at my office. She actually got fired from my office. No one gets fired from my work… let’s just say a staff member’s job was held for 9 months until he got out of jail for things like... ooooh, running from the scene of the crime topped off with possession of illegal weapons and was finally caught with a little shot from the cops’ lovely taser guns.

Anyway, my cubicle-mate was the office manager and her boss, and he used to tell me that he’d never had so many complaints about someone as he'd had for her.

After she got fired from our office, she got hired at the restaurant a few doors down where one of my ex-boyfriends (The Brother, who’s a very good friend of mine still)… That’s when I heard more stories about her… a jilted lover I believe called her the devil… The Brother (my ex) who is super sweet and never says anything bad about anyone had once called her “totally sketchy.” He also told me how she would run around on her partner and didn’t give a shit about who she hurt.

She was actually very nice to me… I was always surprised to hear these stories about her… stories in which I never cared or knew to elicit… stories that were voluntarily told to me because they were juicy tales to tell.

When I was in 6th and 7th grades, I was Queen-Bee-Bitch… By 8th grade, I made an active decision to change my selfish and very cruel ways… so perhaps Ms. Attained the Unattainable Heart has changed dramatically in the past year. It’s possible.

Knowing it was her, I felt no jealousy… I just thought, “wow, small fucking world.” Maybe he’ll figure her out… maybe they’ll be fucking blissful… who knows... it doesn't matter much... and I felt kinda’ relieved… like I needed to see that… like end of story.

So, iBartender and I pretty much ignored each other for the rest of the night. Then he left. And we didn’t say good-bye. And I didn’t tell him I wasn’t coming next week. And that’s it. Yup, That’s it for iBartender.

Good night, and Good Luck.

--------------------------------
So here I am with a clean slate.

It’s only a matter of time before it fills up again, and I go through the same song and dance… and bitch and moan about all the same shit.


And so… zen-zen-zen… put things back into perspective… these woes are nothing… I have my vision – I have my hearing – I have an overabundance of food – I have a home – I have a family – I haven’t been sold into the sex slave trade – I can wear whatever I want – I can choose any religion… and really… I really think about these things. I have to remind people that I don’t simply harp on paltry relationship woes… those are mere distractions… there are so many more important things, and I am so fortunate.

Sometimes I wonder how I could ever want more.

Not a Cohesive Post... Couldn't Get It Together

Now that I have illegal cable, I’m watching too much TV, and I can’t seem to stop myself.

One show I’ve particularly gotten into is The Real World, Denver. How unfortunate. Anyway, one of the crazy-psycho chicks said something that struck me, yes, life lessons learned from reality TV… fucking sad, I know.

Smoking by the obligatory hot tub, she and one of the other cast members (I should know all their names, but I’m not that smart) were discussing relationships. He asked her if she’d met anyone recently… she replied, “No… ya know, I just haven’t been open to it.”

Seems like a simple comment, and it is. But then I started to think of all the clichés we tell ourselves for why we’re not in a relationship:

“I just haven’t been open to it.”

“I need to be okay on my own.”

“I’m just not in the right spot.”

“I’ve been going for the wrong type of guy/girl.”

“I need to figure myself out.”

“I’ve been too busy.”

And then, when we do find ourselves in relationships:

“It happened when I wasn’t looking.”

“I’d given up on guys/girls.”

“Love was right before my eyes.”

Blah – Blah – Blah.

Tragic.

I was just reading The Truth About Cocks and Dolls… and the heroine, Dolly, is in a situation where the potential hero admits strong feelings for her… but what does he say, “I have so many issues right now that I don’t know if I can be in a relationship.”

And he means it. As if it weren’t difficult enough to find someone with whom you have any chemistry, he has to throw in one of those clichés… throw in his own road block and let a perfectly perfect prospect, Dolly, turn into a “what could have been.”

Why do we do these things to ourselves? An issue is an issue if we want it to be. It’s like the blame game at work sometimes… where we want to point fingers and say it’s his fault or her fault… but really, we should just say, “okay, this happened… bummer… let’s learn from it… move forward and find a solution.” That’s how I do business. That’s how Dolly’s hero should be… “sure got some crazy things going on… but they’ll work out in the end because they always do… because they have to.” Simple.

Of course this is all easy breezy for me to say now… Because, now that I’m wiping the slate clean of those toxic bartenders and am moving into the drought period, I wonder how I could have ever been so powerless. I wonder why I was so obsessed with these boys… how I got so involved… especially with ones who’s integrity is questionable.

I wonder why things could have ever seemed complicated. These things all seem so silly… and we tell ourselves all these things to help us get by… but whatever, a relationship just hasn’t happened. Maybe it won’t ever… one has to be okay with that.

Ah, such a relationship obsessed world. I don’t exclude myself… can’t be too much of a hypocrite.

Fucking Shit Sometimes.

WORDS OF WISDOM:

God’s a euphemism for “I don’t get it.”

A Drought On The Horizon

I had that date with Flava Flav last night. He’s such a sweet guy… kinda’ like “Nice Guy.” Remember him? Just super “nice” and falls into that “too nice” to date category. Again, he is fucking amazing in bed… I mean, all he wants to do is go down on me from the front – the back – the side… anyway he can get at it… and that is so fucking HOT!

What do I do? I know he’s starting to like me more and more, and sure I like him, but not the same way. I’ve told him that I’m only looking for something casual… He knows how I feel, but I do think he expects this will move forward.

How long do I continue hooking up with this person if I’m almost positive I don’t want anything more than what it is?

A friend and I were just discussing “when it rains, it pours” in relation to men. It always happens this way. It really does. In a month’s time, I went from no prospects to making out with iBartender, making out with Obsession, having a random “let’s get together” call from Kansas, hooking up Flava Flav who wants more, and having a random call from Bad Break-Up.

But then, the “when it rains, it pours” is inevitably followed by a drought. Because really, none of these are going anywhere. Sadly. And my friend, has four dudes running around with her right now, but like me, not one is going anywhere.

It seems so impossible to find a companion. So impossible to have feelings match and timing match and the courage to do anything about it… the fucking stars must align. Like I always say, it’s a fucking wonder that anyone ever ends up together… together in real love… in true love… but then, does it really happen? Ever?

I suppose I must accept the nature of this beast… and have my storms and droughts… and still hold onto my fantasy of finding the “one.” It only takes “one”… just “one,” and the search is over… the blogs about unrequited love come to an end… and the trials and tribulations of making a relationship work begin.

Now I feel like I must shed. Cleanse myself… move forward… be okay…be just fine. Peaceful.


CHANGE OF TOPIC: MUSIC

Overplayed Songs on my iPod –

- Lavinia, The Veils
- Love Will Tear Us Apart, Joy Division
- They Can’t Take That Away From Me, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong
- I Shall Be Released – Nina Simone
- Let’s Dance – David Bowie (LIVE VERSION)

Shows Coming Up –

- A Band Called Pain – Slim’s
- Tapes N’ Tapes – Great American
- Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – the Fillmore
- Aqualung – the Fillmore
- Bjork – Shoreline
- Arcade Fire – Greek Theater Berkeley
- The Veils – Café Du Nord
- Band of Horses – Great American

I've Been Waiting For This Moment All My Life

On Monday night, I decided to get a ticket to see the Silversun Pickups at the Independent. I'd been addicted to the song, Lazy Eye. I couldn't listen to the first line enough, "I’ve been waiting… I've been waiting for this moment all my life." While driving to Carmel this past weekend for our company trip, I asked my friends in the car what that line meant to them. Because really, you know that line means something to everyone.

And I'm still thinking about it... "I've been waiting… I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life......." I'll get back to you on what it means to me. In the meantime, think about what your moment is or hope to be.

The show itself was the definition of mediocre... there had been all these Smashing Pumpkins comparisons, and Smashing Pumpkins was my first love... and I thank god that 16 year olds can't get tattoos because I'd be sitting here with a bunch of Billy Corgan shit all over my fucking arms. Anyway, I couldn't pass up hearing a hyped up live band............ and the show was just okay............ the lead singer was a little full of himself... saying shit like, "isn't this venue a little too small?" Get over yourself! And you can't even hold a candle to the Smashing Pumpkins.

Before going to the show, I went to iBartender’s bar for Monday Night Dice, so I could get drunk on happy hour drinks before seeing the Silversun Pickups. As soon as I got there, iBartender informs me that he’s given his two weeks notice. Well, guess I won’t be seeing him anymore. I did get a tad bit sad. Every Sunday night, I looked forward to seeing him the next day… to listening to my tunes on the bar speakers and flirting and the prospect of kisses and sarcastic banter and the exchange of music knowledge.

I suppose in the end, however, he finally made it clear that he wasn’t into me anyway… why, oh why can’t the ones we like oh so much like us back?

Moving on… when I’m bored, I always manage to stir some shit up. Waking up in my swanky Carmel hotel room, I couldn’t help but wish that I had someone there to fuck me in that huge bed… and then again in the huge shower… and then again in the huge separate tub. So, I came home and decided to call Flava Flav to come over and fuck me in my own bed. It was going to take some convincing since I’d told him the previous week that I didn’t want anything serious, and he proceeded to delete me from all of his electronic forms of communication. Of course with my brilliant powers of persuasion, he was over fucking me in a heartbeat.

And shit, he’s great in bed. Fabulous. Amazing. Just a totally sexual guy, who’s not grossed out by anything… but kinda’ your “free for all” dude, which I fucking love!

He’s a sweetheart and wants to see where this could go… but I just see too many similarities between him and Bad-Break Up… where they both say shit like, “it’s none of your business,” when it fucking is my business… and of course, he’s cheated on every girlfriend, and again, cheating’s just my “thing.” (by the way, Obsession’s stock swiftly fell when he told me he still had a girlfriend mid-boob sucking last week – note: my shirt was on, just lifted a bit)

Anyway, Flava Flav and I are going out on a “date” tonight. He really wants to get to know me, and it’s flattering, but again, there are just too many red flags this early on… I just want to have some fun… he knows how I feel… so I’ll just ride this one out… let’s pray that the drama’s minimal.

Oh, also, he’s another super shy guy… all my exes have been super shy guys… that’s one thing I LOVED about iBartender… he was nowhere near shy… he could talk to anyone… I have a lot of different types of friends, hippies, punks, preppies, real adults, etc… I want someone who can easily get along with everyone… someone I don’t have to baby-sit at a party… someone who walks in with me, and we’re these two little powerhouses……. And together, we explode.

Certainly Got That Action I Wanted...Just Got It A Little Wrong

I made out with Obsession last night.

He called a couple more times after I texted him Tuesday, so I decided to finally give in and see if we could work out a time to get together.

A couple of years ago, I would have picked up the phone on the first ring. Now, I see his name pop-up, and I think, ahh, I'm too tired to talk... I'll let it go into voicemail. Funny how things work out.

Last night, he came by... please note, he was coming over to work on a business letter that I was helping him with... I told him I could just email, but he insisted on getting together. Fine.

We hopped on my bed. I sat indian style and placed my laptop on, well, my lap. He had a print-out of the letter. We went through it line by line, and I was amazed at his diction. All of his suggestions made the letter all the better.

I sat at the edge of the bed to see if he'd start moving toward me. He did. He'd rest his hand on my leg. I'd pretend not to notice. I got up to do something, and when I came back his arm was around my spot on the bed. I picked it up and moved it. He smirked.

After we finished the letter, we drank the wine he'd brought and discussed the
Big Bang and mass extinction and all of my favorite topics. I had completely underestimated the guy. He's pretty fucking intelligent.

After a few more glasses of wine, he said he should get going. I reached over him to put my glass on the table to walk him out. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me onto him... and then smothered my lips with his.

We made out like teenagers... a lot of groping, expert bra unfastening, hands reaching down one another's pants...

And so, he's had a girlfriend for some time. A girlfriend that was supposed to be moving out because their relationship just wasn't working.

As we were making out, I wondered if the two of them were still together... I just wanted to absorb as much of his touch before I knew the answer.

Wrong. Yes, very wrong.

Once he went to remove an article of my clothing, I said, "okay, I have to ask... are you still with your girlfriend?"

He cringed, "yes."

Fuck.

"Well, I can't do this then. Sorry."

I refastened my bra, smoothed back my hair, and got off of the bed. He remained hoping that I'd got back to him.

"You should go now." Of course I then laid into him about how shitty it was that he was cheating on his girlfriend. Yeah, HUGE loss of points. Not that it really matters in the end. He and I are nothing anyway.

But then, at the door we kissed again. I felt guilty because I'd then known for certain that they were still together.

He was a much better hook-up this time than he was a couple of years ago... He whipped out the skills.

Before he walked out the door, I said, "um, don't you think you should wash your hands?" He had stuck them down my pants after all.

As he smelled his two fingers, he said, "no, they smell good. I'm not going to wash them."

I rolled my eyes, "oh god." And not, oh god in a good way.

And that was that. Bittersweet. Typical. Oh Well.

MISS CURIOUS' BARTENDERS:

In the last month, I have had both my bartenders' tongues in my mouth... and I've had my hand on both of their cocks. Hot sure... but that's where it ends. Random make-out sessions and then friendship. Fine. It is what it is, and I'm slowly becoming more and more realistic about them.

MySpace FLAVA FLAV:

Okay, so we all know how horny I was last week. That's when I decided to reply to MySpace Flava Flav (not because he has any likeness to Flav... just a name)... we had all this amazing sexually charged instant messaging... he told me he didn't want anything, and I was like, "hell yeah... I just want a hook-up... a fling."

And then, he started to like me... and apparently he liked me a whole fucking lot... he started texting me and calling me and emailing me a TON. I reminded him that I was only interested in hooking up... he pleaded for me to give him a chance... he asked if I'd go on a date with him tonight. I conceded, but really just hoped he'd come over and go down on me.

Don't get me wrong... he's adorable, smart, interesting, but he is a self-proclaimed cheater... not cool with me... he's also just kinda' immature... I didn't feel like he was teaching me anything... making me think about new things... it was pretty much the other way around.

Anyway, he left me this message last night saying that he couldn't go out on the date with me because his feelings were too strong, and he thought we should leave it as is before he got hurt.

I'm like - what the fuck? we've hung out one night?!??

I texted him, "ok."

He then texted back, "I'm guessing this is Miss Curious... sorry I just can't go out."

Guessing? I was tipsy, so I called him (this was all before Obsession came over).

"Um, the fact that you were guessing it was me means that you've already deleted my number?"

"Yes. I had to."

"What the fuck? What happened to fun fling... you didn't want anything serious?"

"Like I said, I didn't expect to like you so much, and it's clear that I like you much more than you like me. I've been such a spaz because I haven't liked someone this much in years."

"Okay, whatever."

I don't get it.

Today, I log onto my gmail account and see that he's removed me from his little gtalk thing. I had to laugh.


Seriously though, what the fuck's up with boys? It's kinda' cracking me up, which is good because I no longer feel emotionally attached to any of it. It's pretty much a fucking farce.

Move ON!

Meant To Be?

At the end of the day yesterday, Tall K called me down to his desk, “Miss Curious, you haven’t mentioned Monday Night Dice all day. I’ve overheard that you’re going to a show tonight, but when were you going to tell me?”

“Oh well, I just assumed you figured.”

“Nope. I’m disappointed in your punk-ass,” he said kinda’ jokingly, kinda’ not.

I felt kinda’ like shit.

He asked, “well, what are you doing until the show?”

My eyes widened because I knew I’d give in, and then I’d torture myself with iBartender… but then, I thought… how good would the show be if I found myself heartbroken, alone, jealous, and stoned? That’d be a good fucking show. Done.

“Okay, I’m there… I’m dragging the whole crew… we have 2 hours to do some happy hour damage, and then we’re off to the show!” hahaha!

Because my East Coast twin (Dolly) and I have been living parallel lives (2 bartenders for her too), and she recently had this amazing turn of events where one of the bartenders suddenly became her boyfriend… I thought, “Hey, maybe this came up because by some simple twist of fate, I’m supposed to squeeze in Monday Night Dice… and this is it… this is my night?!?!? Just like Dolly’s!!!” (yeah, okay crazy!)

And something did happen at Monday Night Dice.

I was meant to go. Wait. That sounds strange. I don’t believe things are “meant to be,” but sometimes it’s like, “fuck, wow, it’s like it was ‘meant to be.’” Same feeling about astrological signs… like I don’t believe in them… but then, I do.

Anyway. The first drink’s on iBartender with a “Happy Easter.” Fine. Sure.

We start talking music. Top 5 Favorite Albums of All Time. We both say, Smashing Pumpkins, Siamese Dream as #4.

He disappears from behind the bar.

And then, on the loud speakers… the heavy guitars of Cherub Rock (first song on Siamese Dream) reverberate through the dark corners of the bar. My smile couldn’t have been bigger.

We often write notes on napkins during our Monday nights, and this one called for a note, “iBartender, I love you right now!”

He folds it… before he puts it in his pocket, he makes some jerking-off motion as though he’ll jerk-off to my note later. Okay. Hot.

I try to lead the conversation to sex, but he’s not going with it. Hmm.

Okay. Well, I decided to run up to the DJ Booth while he’s there and put on another Smashing Pumpkins tune… he grabs the chub around my waste – fuck I always hate that… give me some warning, so I can suck it all in – anyway, we peck on the lips.

In My Head: Yes – Yes – Yes, pecks on lips, good sign!

I start getting down to business. I want some answers.

“So, iBartender, you dating anyone?”

“Yes.”

My jaw drops.

“Cool… what’s the story?”

“I met her through a friend… I think about sticking my shit in her all the time…” blah-blah-blah.

In My Head: Keep it together Miss Curious. Keep it together. Just give me a minute.

With a perfectly believable fake smile, “good for you… I must admit this odd wave of jealousy just came over me… but wait, oh I think it passed.”

And then.

The turning of the KNIFE.

“Yeah, well, get over it,” he replies with a stone-cold expression upon his face.

Breathe.

Harsh.

Way Harsh.

He said it with that, 'what-were-you-thinking? Did you really think I could have liked you? Are you serious?…. oh wait you did think so… oh how cute… how sad… I’m just being honest… get over it,' sound in his voice. At least that's how I took it.

I giggled and took my turn at dice. A guy friend of mine sitting next to me thought it was a humorous conversation… he had no idea about shit… no idea that I actually did like iBartender… no idea that this wasn’t all pretend… that right there in that moment, I was being hardcore dissed.

Luckily in my friend’s obliviousness, he says, “man, if I were single, I’d so date Miss Curious… she’s like the fucking coolest chick ever… and hot as fuck.” (I’m hot? Thanks dude!)

Oh Jesus. If my friend only knew that he was a saving grace… and really, he had NO CLUE. He serendipitously said the completely right thing to pick me up. To help me swallow.

And well. I was almost grateful for iBartender’s brutal words. I needed to hear them. I needed to stop holding onto a big fat nothing.

How could I have been so fucking stupid? How could I have thought his kisses meant something? How could I have thought? How could I?

And so I ran into the arms of live music. You better fucking believe that Muse show was amazing.


This Weird Convergence of Men… This Meant to Be Reminder of Me and Men:

- So, iBartender laid it out for me. Shot me down. Hardcore.

- Obsession, he left another message today about coming over. This was his 2nd call. I just texted him, “Went to a show last night… am really tired… another night?” And who cares… I’m not going to lift a finger with that right now. Yes, tired.

- And then there’s Flav who’s suddenly hardcore pursuing me. I just wanted to fuck. He did too, initially. Now he’s all surprised that he likes me so much. Apparently, I make him think. Tell it like it is. I just don't feel like it. He keeps contacting me. He keeps telling me that he’ll wait for my call, but calls before I call. Texts and emails. Wants to go on a date on Thursday… I said, “not a good idea.” He’s just messed up right now… I don’t want the bother. Maybe we’ll make-out again, but he’s a recipe for disaster, and I do NOT want that in my life… over it!

- 5th Paragraph – obviously, I felt retarded Sundy when his ass was the one that actually got the satisfaction of introducing his new girlfriend to me instead of how i'd always hoped we'd bump into each other when i was with some super hot boyfriend… but then, I know he didn’t/wouldn't really give a shit anyway.

- Remember Citrus Fruit? That guy I met in line at a show… his friend got him a beer with Citrus Fruit, he was allergic… we switched drinks… chatted… then randomly, I got a MySpace request for his band… we messaged like twice… well, I saw him last night… didn’t say anything of course (haha), but random spottings that mean nothing… but I wish they did… need to be pointed out. And oh, even more random... like no joke, yesterday, I was going through some of my archives and one was entitled, 'Funny Coincidence.' I couldn't for the life of me remember what that was, so I re-read it... thinking hmm, yeah, at the time I thought the fact that he unknowingly requested me as a friend actually meant something... and it meant, nothing. But then, I saw him that very night, last night... after not having thought twice about the guy. Just random. Well fuck me, always trying to make something more out of fucking nothing. End of story.

To Conclude:

It’s just like, what the fuck? What the fuck?

And why am I in San Francisco? Why didn’t that abroad job work out? It couldn’t have been more perfect. Now here I am doing the same shit again and again and again. And yes, I have to kick myself in the ass and make myself happy, blah blah blah… I know the advice to give myself, I’m just fucking over it!!!

Oh Miss Curious, always so laughable.

The Flavor of Love

You know those chicks on The Bachelor or Flavor Flav who everyone in the house despises. And then, those chicks say shit like, “I’m not here to make friends. I’m here for Flav.” Anyway, I thought my latest MySpace conquest would have been that girl (let’s call him Flava Flav, Flav for short). In our first telephone conversation, Flav made comments of his reclusive and somewhat selfish behavior… seeming to be only out for himself. He was rather arrogant, and that’s always attractive to me… however, if he was going to be a purely sexual conquest, then it sounded as though he’d be a selfish lover… not what I wanted.

But I was still somewhat intrigued and was horny enough to overlook such faults. On Saturday, after cheering up a pal all evening, I decided to respond to his text and have him cruise over. I actually texted back, “would you still come over if all we’d do is talk?”

He quickly replied, “yes, I’m just curious to meet you.”

And oddly, my sex drive had dissipated by Saturday. Must be some female cycle shit.

I haven’t met anyone from online in almost a year, so I was a little freaked out about the online idea of who he is and I am. In person, he was much cuter than I had expected. Nice.

We talked for a while. I was a bit nervous. He kept getting closer and closer to me, so I knew he was interested. Eventually, I went in for the kiss, and that little shit says, “Um, I can’t kiss you… you said nothing was going to happen.” He seemed serious.

In My Head: Oh fuck! I totally misread him. How completely embarrassing.

I nervously chuckled.

After making me suffer from humiliation for a few minutes, he leaned over, softly touched my cheek with the back of his hand, then kissed me. Good kisser. Totally acceptable.

Our conversation was stimulating. He then told me we shouldn’t have sex because he actually likes me and wants to wait. Sweet. I didn’t want to have sex anyway. I just wasn’t in the mood anymore. Nothing to do with him… like I said, probably some female cycle shit that passed.

Turns out he totally wasn’t that Flavor Flav House Bitch… he was very giving and sweet and went down on me for a long time even though I said I wouldn’t be returning the favor. I didn’t cum, but he sure was fucking good at it.

I then kinda’ started to like that guy… but I knew that I’d never fall for him seeing as his past behavior with women was not one of honesty… and cheating often, is my “thing.” Everyone has his or her “thing”… it immediately made him less attractive. He also commented that he didn’t know if he could be monogamous if he started a relationship right now (at least that's an honest thing to say)… he knows that he has to work on himself… he has to be sure it’s never going to happen again. This was all fine with me since I merely wanted to hook-up, and I could easily hold onto these facts as a SUPERB WALL.

It really was a little confusing though… like I said, I was sorta’ liking the guy.

The next morning… he went down on me again… and again… and I came… and I didn’t do shit back to him… not even a hand-job… now who’s the Bitch of the House?

We then took a shower together… and of course, the first time I bring a guy home since my new roommate BFF moved in a couple of months ago, she has her Mom AND Godmother come see the place. What great timing! She even warned me… I tried to get him to SKA-Daddle…but we were a bit late. Embarrassing… we were in the shower saying, “oh fuck – oh fuck – oh fuck.”

Anyway, now I’m a ho. Nothing new.

The family left for brunch and Flav decided to hang out some more before I left for an Easter celebration. He said the ball was completely in my court… that he really wants to see me again, but he understands my reticence.

Hmmm… “Well, seeing as I’ve enjoyed your company so much…. There’s only so long I’ll be able to use your past against you… and then, I just may fall for your punk-ass… and then, I will have dug my own fucking grave… and be heart-broken… and I’ve done this shit before… I’ve had these flings all before… and it’s not what I want… not at all… we’re at such different points in our lives… bad timing. Really bad… I don’t know if I can ever see you again.” (yes, stupid and dramatic sounding... but I was giggling and light-hearted as I said it)

“I would be very disappointed if that were the case. Very disappointed, but there’s nothing I can say. There are no promises I can make.”

We said our good-byes… he reminded me that he’d wait for my call.

This morning, I got an email from him… “I know I should sleep on it before writing this email… but I’m impulsive… can’t help it… The thought of never seeing you again is not sitting well with me…”

I have yet to reply. What do I say? I mean, do I go into some purely physical relationship where I know the ending, an ending which fucking sucks for me? Do I try to have as much fun as I can before I get too involved? But can I really tell where that point is? When I do realize, will it be too late? Shit. Fuck. Why can’t things just be fucking easy? It’s fucking lame that everything has to be so goddamn complicated. Why is it so hard to find someone who’s badass, available, wants you just as much, a good fucking lover, and you two can just kick it?

What oh what will Miss Curious decide to do? Her history tells us………


In My Easter Basket:

Some of you may remember that I have a friend who lives right next door to 5th Paragraph (sorta’ dated last summer… and turned out to be a complete dipshit… he like defines the word). Anyway, I went to her house yesterday to meet her boyfriend flying in from Greece, and we were having an amazing Greek spread. I always kinda’ wonder if I’m going to bump into 5th Paragraph there. After getting satisfyingly toasted, I left her house only to bump into, yes, easy to guess… 5th Paragraph. We say some awkward hello’s… ask the other what she/he's been up to… etc… blah – blah – blah… Of course, in my little fantasy world I’d always hoped I’d run into him with some HOT and AMAZING boyfriend of mine… but that’s just not how things happen in the real world… instead, some chick comes outside wondering what was taking him so long… “Miss Curious, this is my girlfriend ‘whatever her name was’.” (of course, jesus)

Awkward. Annoying. She was totally NOT CUTE. Is that a good thing? To be left for some totally NOT CUTE chick? Well, whatever, it made me feel better.

And really, I got left because I don’t snowboard or freeboard or skateboard… and because we had a power struggle… he needs some chick to cater to HIS life… but I have a pretty busy fucking life already… so fuck him… he was looking all scrawny and gross. And I did wonder how I was ever attracted to him. But whatever.

So there you have it. Another weekend in the life of Miss Curious.

Monday Night Dice:

Tonight there will be NO DICE. I'm going to see Muse play this evening (seen them a couple times before)... yes, live shows, a place I feel most at home. The feelings I'll have tonight will far exceed those flirtatious and misleading comments and caresses from the all-too-desirable-why can't-you-just-be-in-love-with-me-iBartender.

Bang - Bang - Bang

It is so easy for a chick to get laid. It's almost unreal how easy it is. Anyway, that MySpace guy I decided to email back is going to be the guy... since I've been insanely aroused lately, I swiftly led our conversation into the sexual realm... and it fucking took-off.

He likes it messy. Very messy. And that is so HOT. Oh my god. Whew. I mean we're going to fuck the shit out of each other. Jesus. Wow. I'm turned on just thinking about it.

I already know half the things that are going to happen to me... and I cannot wait!!!

Too bad he's sick right now... 'cuz this could have been a hot sex weekend!

I'm such a slut. I'm a total dude with my sex drive!

And oh, this has been BONER week... first we had iBartender getting hard just thinking about my hand on his cock... then last night The Brother (ex-boyfriend, still total bud) called me, and we got onto the subject of sex (big surprise)... he said he had to stop talking about it because thinking of me blowing him was getting him hard on the street, and he had sweatpants on!

Hahaha!

He also mentioned that when he jacks-off, he has three scenarios from his past sexual experiences that he always envisions. I'm at the top of that list. And, he always confirms that I am still the best blow-job he's ever had, and I ruined him for life as a result.

Nice!

Damn, I'm bragging... and I probably really suck! Suck?! Oh well.

Clearly this post is a little too excited about fucking... quell - quell - quell... I just need to get it over with already!

;-)

It All Goes Back To Fucking

After I posted yesterday, my cell phone rang. It was Obsession. It’s like he knew I was slandering his ass on the Internet. Anyway, he left this message saying, “uh, sorry I didn’t call yesterday… I’ve been so sick… can we reschedule for next week?”

Okay, fine… he sounded sick… but NO, I’m NOT calling him back. Whatever. He can wait. I’m just kinda’ over it. If he moves mountains, I’ll help him out, but I’m not going to put myself out for him again. Boring.

Dolly, from the The Truth About Cocks and Dolls (http://cocksanddolls.blogspot.com/), who oddly seems to be living a very similar life on the east coast, recently made some comment to the effect of – once you get over these useless bartender crushes, you open your world up to a lot of men… I never really thought I was closing myself off because of these boys, but I really had.

I realize this now because on the impossibly-addictive MySpace, I’d been getting messages from some seemingly normal dudes and just never followed-up… I was so wrapped up in the fantasy of these other boys that I wasn’t open to it. Well, plus I’ve done the MySpace thing, and it was a pain in the ass in the long run. Yesterday, however, as I was going through my messages and trashing most of them… I re-clicked on a profile from some guy who seemed pretty fucking witty and funny and liked all the same music… I decided to reply to him… a couple months late, sure… but he replied right away… now we’ve started a bit of correspondence. Of course I had that initial, “ew, he responded way too quickly, ICKS!” And then, he just asked to take our chat off MySpace and into the real email world (real?!?)… and that also kinda’ gave me the ICKS… but-but-but, I caught myself, and I’m about to email him. Yeay for Miss Progress Curious!

Then there are a couple guys here and there that I never even looked at as prospects, but I’m suddenly seeing them in a different light… it’s like oh my fucking god, I was soooo fucking closed off… I had no fucking idea!!! No idea!!!

But then, I read this comment from some guy giving Dolly advice about a perfectly perfect male prospect (but a bartender, oh shit)… and I realize that his comment is exactly what I always fucking do… assuming I can be both open to new dudes and can avoid the following, I’m pretty sure I’ll be married off within the year, hahahahaha!

“Can I predict what's going to happen??Barman BT and Dolly go out on a date. BT shows a little bit too much interest which turns Dolly off. Dolly will blog about how she's lost interest and that she's moving on.Either that or he doesn't show enough interest which makes Dolly want him even more.”

Damnit. Must Avoid.

But then… perhaps all this boy writing means I’m looking for a hardcore fuck. It has been since December after all. Which is a long time for an oversexed chick like me. In fact, ehhh… that’s probably why I got that insta-hard-on when iBartender told me he was “getting hard just thinking about it,” oh my god… I’m forcing myself to, “breathe Miss Curious breathe.”

Wow. I’m such a dude when it comes to sex. Must get some soon.

Sex.

Sex.

Sex.

I could do w/ some guy just going down on me. Hmm. That works too.

This stream-of-consciousness blog once again took on a life of its own… ending in the male world where everything goes back to fucking.

Shit.

Okay. Goal. Get fucked. Soon.

This Time I'm Not Pathetic

What a fucking loser. He better be dead or half-dead lying in a ditch somewhere because if he’s not, then he really is a big fucked-up weird-ass loser.

Okay, well that’s a bit dramatic, but still Obsession is just kinda’, well, lame. ;-)

Remember how he called me three times last week until I finally picked up? He then asked if I could help him write a business letter. He was supposed to come over last Thursday or yesterday, Tuesday. Last Wednesday when we spoke, he told me to call him the next day if I could do Tuesday, instead of that Thursday. I left him a message saying I could do the Tuesday after all.

Then yesterday, I left a message asking him to give a shout back to let me know if he was still coming or not… to call me either way, so I could plan around it.

And no fucking phone call. I’m the one helping you… you were the one who suggested the goddamn day!!! What’s so fucking difficult?!?! How difficult is it to pick-up the fucking the phone and call me to say it’s not going to work out… you can’t come… whatever… but to just leave a person hanging – that’s totally fucking immature!

Then of course in the back of my mind, I’m always paranoid that he suddenly found my blog and got freaked out because his name is Obsession. And yeah, that sounds kinda’ bad… but really, he’s just a character in my silly little fantasy world… a character who I know really isn’t someone with whom I’d want to be… I’m really not kidding when I say I know it’d never-ever work with the two of us… it’s just a fun person to go see and flirt with and pretend with, but something I never want to be real (ah, do note that I called it ‘it’)… because really, I didn’t enjoy hooking-up with him… and his wit is no match for my own (haha)… he doesn’t make me laugh… he just has an energy that I like… and kissing him birthed no butterflies, only words of, “what are you doing?” Having him lick my body didn’t give me, “mmmms and ahhhhhs,” instead it evoked thoughts of, “oh shit, that’s gonna’ leave a mark.” Yeah, not leaving a mark in a good way… more in the teenage-hickey-way versus the hot-wild-pull-my-hair-and-bite-my-shoulder-way.

I know where I stand with this guy… he should know that I know this fact as well. In fact, we joke about it often… it’s totally casual with us nowadays… I know he has a girlfriend and cool… I wouldn’t want to be her. Whatever.

Basically, he’s not getting any help from me anytime soon… and if I go to Cheers whenever, then I do. I’m just rollin’ my eyes over here. Hahaha!

Open To Love?

And to answer that “am I open to love” question (the one the self-proclaimed drunkard asked me)… yeah, part of me totally isn’t… part of me is soooo absorbed in my crazy fantasies of what love should be like… and I don’t really want to take the bartenders out of their bars (well, maybe iBartender just to see what he’s packin’, hahaha!)… I just want to be drunk in their establishments and think of how things could be and not how they really are.

When I’m with a guy who’s real… who loves or likes me back, he never seems to be quite right… I’ll always find something wrong with him… always… so oh the fuck well, this blog stream-of-consciousness is turning into one big, “oh look Miss Curious is even more fucked up than we thought,” but really… I give a fuck for about a minute, and then I’m going to laugh and go back to listening to Ladytron on my computer. Hmm... speaking of which, this song's goooo-ooood. Exhibit: my short attention span.

Getting Hard Just Thinking About It

Crumbs. Again, just itty-bitty little crumbs. iBartender is brilliant at just giving you enough. But, I was determined and indeed saw right through his charming antics.

Shortly after I arrived, Tall K surreptiously disappeared, so I could have a word with iBartender.

iBartender walks over to me, and I profess, “I really wanted to apologize for the other night… I hadn’t meant to molest you… it’s just that my sex-drive is high enough sober, so when I have too many drinks, it gets a little out of hand.”

He bashfully replied, almost unable to look at me, “well, um, I enjoyed it… couldn’t you tell?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… but I just shouldn’t have been so forth coming… thanks for understanding.”

Later in the evening, we started talking about the cock massage (over his pants) again… he then said, “I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” (oh damn... if i had a dick, I would've had insta-hard-on)

“Really.”

“Yup.”

“Wow, that’s so hot.”

Fuck. I could have said any number of witty comments in there. I just get kinda’ stupid around him. Oh well.

For the rest of the night, I was somewhat antagonistic. We mildly flirted. I was being a little bitchy because I didn’t want him to know I that I was sorta’ into him (and sorta’ not anymore). When my friends and I moved to the pool table, he came to bug us a few times. He’d quickly squeeze my knee or wrap his arms around me from behind. I just stood very still. I didn’t touch back. Not this time.

And then I got some mushroom-pepperoni pizza and went home. We didn’t say good-bye.

Today, I feel fucking great about things. I no longer feel like a fucking idiot for having massaged his dick the other night. I didn’t act like some pathetic chick in his little harem. I was just doing my thing… laughin’ fucking hard with my friends… and we had the occasional flirt here and there.

That’s what it is… a couple gropes and stolen kisses and sarcastic remarks here and there… not such a bad thing… and all my dignity is still in tact.

Who’s next? Hahaha!

Things To Do In Life

When I was a teenager, I made a list of Things To Do In Life. Mr. Lost His Mind Christian found it endearing and stole that along with my favorite nightgown, Kiwi-Strawberry, because it smelled like me. Anyway, I decided to write a list last night of the things I’ve done from that previous list and then create a new one.

I think it’s important to remember what I’ve accomplished. Sometimes I don’t think I’ve done enough… and it’s difficult to feel full, to piece those experiences together and be happy with where I am now… and what I have yet to do.

Things From My Teenage “To Do In Life” List That I Actually Have Done:

- Skydive
- Bungee Jump
- Peace Corps
- Study Abroad
- Pursue the field of Entertainment
- Graduate from a top university
-Of Course I don’t have the list anymore, so I can’t recall the others

Things From My New “To Do In Life” List:

- Learn Spanish Fluently (this was on the first list, just haven’t done yet)
- Learn to play the piano (on previous list as well)
- Live abroad again for at least 6 months
- Travel to: Greece, South Africa, back to Ukraine and my small village there, South America (Peru or Brazil, my mom lived many years in Peru), and Japan
- Write a novella… like Shop Girl
- Meet Trent Reznor
- Find a profession in which I’m passionate
- Own my own home

The depressing part about writing my list last night was the fact that it wasn’t written with fervor as my teenage one had been. In fact, it took me a while to even think of one. Sure I want to see as much of the world as I can, but the same passion/drive I once had was no longer there. So fucking sad. How does one get that back?

I was also wondering if I should put grad school in psychology on there. But then, I realized I’m still on the fence about it. This is what I’m debating:

Positives:

1. I have an innate sense of philanthropy… perhaps that’s not the best word… hmm, just genuinely want to help others.
2. A great fascination as to why people are the way they are and is it possible for people to truly change their nature?
3. I can be self-employed
4. It’s a job one can do until she’s 70 because the older one is the more revered she is in her profession… not like most professions where employers want young blood.

Negatives:

1. Debt… forever... and I'm not going to be making nearly as much as the law and business school kids who will actually get to pay their debts back in a relatively timely manner.
2. No real co-workers or colleagues… kind of a lone profession.
3. I’d be tied down to my patients… my dad’s a psychiatrist and mental health patients are often intensely needy and can’t stand if he’s gone… I know this because I worked in his office during my summers.
4. I have to go back to school, frightening
5. I have to worry about the fucking GRE, bleh!
6. I might not even get in!??!?!

Eh… I just don’t know. I’m hopefully going to talk to this guy who started this year and see how he likes his program.

Monday Night Dice:

LaSassy always tells me I set up too many rules… that I’m so all or nothing about everything. She’s right… but I have to set boundaries… especially when it comes to crushes. Over the weekend, I had a good conversation with a self-proclaimed drunkard and what he had to say actually made sense. Don’t ask me what he said ‘cuz I was stoned and can’t remember, but I do remember being left with a feeling of contentment.

I genuinely left feeling like it didn’t really matter if iBartender wasn’t into me. I suppose that’s why I started writing my list of things to do in life again. I need to remind myself of how independent I am… of how I like who I am and how I am. I need to remind myself to have total respect in the woman that I am. I don’t need to feast on those crumbs iBartender may throw me.

He does his flirtatious little shit and loves having many women and men drool over his charm. That’s just not respectable. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it for his own selfish purposes. I’ve seen him in action for over a year now… and like I said before I didn’t think I’d genuinely fall for it… now I have, and I feel like a chump. I need to continue seeing right through him. He’s not getting love from somewhere, and it’s kinda’ sad.

I have to remind myself that I am a petty little Monday Night thing to him… and not that I’m petty, not at all… just that he has no idea who I am… and that’s fine… he’s not going to take the time... and I've made so much more of this than it ever should be or should have been, and that's so fucking silly of me… and tonight, in some indirect way, I will tell him that I understand who I am to him – which is not much – and that I’m going to bow out gracefully… with my self-respect in tact… and continue to be the strong woman that I am.

And oh, I do remember the self-proclaimed drunkard telling me I wasn't open to love. I don't think this is true. Hm. Is it?