Guess who just got reminded that she has a blog and should be recording some of the crazy shit that's been happening? Yes, I admit, I've been a horrible blogger and I don't even have the blackblog-screen of death to blame this time around. Instead, I blame it on laziness and sheer complacency.
So dear friends, since I'm obsessed with words, let's to the dictionary:
Main Entry:
com·pla·cen·cy
Pronunciation:
\-sən(t)-sē\
Function:
noun
Inflected Form(s):
plural com·pla·cen·cies
Date:
1650
1 : self-satisfaction especially when accompanied by unawareness of actual dangers or deficiencies
Now, when I think of complacency, I see a cute little mouse on the forest floor, happily nibbling away at whatever the hell mice eat, fruit? Let's just say fruit. This is mouse is happy, she found her snack through the judicious use of her senses, through perseverance and luck. She's congratulating itself of a job well-done when
WHAM!
the snake that had been creeping up behind it strikes. The mouse doesn't have time to be scared, it's just shocked, amazed, a tad resigned and mostly annoyed that it wasn't allowed to finish it's last meal.
This story has two purposes:
1. This is the reason I don't feed my snake live mice. I can empathize with the mouse far easier than my snake.
2. This is a parable (albeit a bad one) for my recent topsy-turvy switcheroo-shenanigans. Ummm, I am the mouse.
Since this situation is long, complex and I'm at work (shhh.) I'm going to be general but details will eventually arise since I'm full of a new determination to keep this blog going. This blog is a perfect arena of introspection and could have served as the eyes in the back of my head, which would've saved that stupid mouse/me from this situation. Right? Because if the mouse could see the snake coming... (Wow, this analogy is getting worse)
Nesto = my hard-won, sweet, sweet fruit.
Again, I am the mouse.
One of the few men that made me cry in high school, let's name him Tom- the snake.
I finally get Nesto, I enjoy him immensely. I feel all butterflies-romance-giggles-orgasms. I'm behaving myself, minding my own damn business when I go to find a buddy of mine across the bar and he's in deep conversation with someone. I'm thinking, "awww, Ryan found a friend," as I slide into the booth across from them, look up and nearly lose my bottom jaw/bladder control.
WHAM!
It's the snake, Tom.
Wow, Tom was/is my ideal. Huger-than-huge crush on this man, lost to me forever through a woman I also thought was hot. Come home. Sitting across from me. Smiling.
SHIT.
The rest they say is history. I went on the prowl, caught me a Tom and now I'm in a pickle. But y'know what? This is the best pickle I've ever had, way better than Claussens, a muthafuckin' pickle sammich!
We'll see where this goes?
**Disclaimer: I am not using snake with any intention of conveying the traits of sneakiness, "slipperiness," or any other negative connotations. I happen to be a huge fan of snakes, both named Tom and otherwise.**
Showing posts with label Men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Men. Show all posts
Monday, July 6, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Beautiful, beautiful butterflies!
Sigh, trying not to smile...failed. The butterflies are back. I thought the butterflies might have been killed off entirely by the tired Tee debacle but they are back, full swing. Despite the fact that Nesto is from a patriarchal culture that feels the need to suffocate, I mean, "take care of" it's women, despite the fact that there's his ex that wants me crucified, despite Tee's passive-aggressive sabotage at every turn...I've got the muthafuckin' butterflies.
Saturday: We went to one bar, I was hit upon while Nesto was in the bathroom and he was very gracious in getting rid of the dude, appreciated. At the next bar, El Rodeo, I tried some Mexican dances, but mostly ended up stepping on his feet. I ended up running into a guy I know (in a basement bar on the South side of Milwaukee where I speak the same language as maybe one in seven people), but left in a hurry as a group of guys wanted to pound Nesto into tortilla dough because he picked my sweatshirt off the floor! Not so cool. (It was a "disrespect" thing. Also known as: find someone you want to start a fight with and cite an intangible offense like disrespect as the cause, psst - it's almost impossible to disprove this because the music is always too loud to speak civilly and then you can accuse the innocent of yelling at you.)
Let me share the best conversation of the night:
ER: (Don't forget sexy accent in your head) "Can you believe those fuckin' guys? What was that Marco guy saying to you? Whatever he was saying to you, he should've been saying to me, he shouldn't have bothered you...."
ET: "Soooo, are we going back to your house now? I don't want to get you into trouble, I know you're in a sticky spot still with the ex but I sure would like to come home with you."
ER: "...those guys along the bar knew that was bullshit, they were trying to explain to the owner what happened. I'm sorry that happened, those fuckers. Why would they think I was starting a fight, I'm with my girl? "
ET: "Nesto, I have no clue what the fuck just happened there, everybody was yelling in language I don't understand BUT I'm sitting here, practically throwing myself at you. ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU OR WHAT?"
ER: "Oh. Oh! I'm sorry Etta (At-tah), I didn't mean to..."
ET: laughing
ER: "You coming home with me."
And the rest of the night was spent reviving butterflies. Sigh.
The next morning, I had plans to help Tee move and so had to scurry home but Nesto walked me to my car and asked me to stay with him, if I could.
That right there is a cause for pause. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. I am caught completely unprepared by Nesto's willingness to jump right in and spend some serious quality time. His charming eagerness to grow a relationship is in stark contrast to my jaded, self-erected electric fence.
He wants five kids, I'm happy with my one. He wants a wife, I am desirous of a good time, minus the strings. He has few friends, instead favoring "his girl," I wish I had more time to be with and make more friends. His contrary beliefs are admirable and simultaneously irritating.
In his cheerful compliments and spontaneous displays of affection, my comfortable role of seductress is fast becoming a woman who is way out of her comfort zone; bewildered, but liking it. Despite this, I will remain faithful to my number one assertion that I am NOT wife material, no matter how Nesto tries to convince me I am. Although he has gotten me to agree to sexual exclusivity, a large leap indeed.
Monday, March 23, 2009
My Pants Are On Fire!
I know Lola has been conspicuously absent from Blackheart Lola lately, she's taking a long lunch but I expect her back soon. Ugh, my office persona just butted in. No, she's wonderful, thriving and sassy, just as you'd expect a little Lola to be and her updates are coming soon, promise!
In the meantime, I will bore you with my revolving-door love life s'more. Behold:
Saturdays are a day full of excitement for me, the day I love waking up early on so I can get to the bookstore, the specialty grocers, hit up a cafe for lunch, hike and be active with my Lo. Two Saturdays ago, I got more than I bargained for. Lola was sick with a flu/cold combo that was kicking both our asses so when she slept in (past 8am) on Saturday, I thanked my lucky stars and slept on.
Until Nesto called. Usually a great source of joy, he called apologizing right off the bat. Since we haven't even gotten a chance to become close enough to fight, I had NO idea what he was apologizing for. It soon became clear, however his ex had "found" a text from me and wished to speak with me as she didn't believe him when he said he wasn't a liar, a cheat and a very bad man.
He felt really bad so I told him, "sure, have her call me. I'm awake now, might as well." Well, call she did, during a horrible I'm-too-tired-and-sick-to-do-anything-but-lay-on-the-floor-and-cry episode from Lo. Between the bouts of screaming, she framed her questions in a firm and suspicious manner but she was kind and real and believed me as I lied to her.
Granted, this is a Friends scenario where her and Nesto were already broken up but should I have driven him back to his car instead of bringing him home with me? Probably. Should he have answered "car" when I gave him the option of car or couch? Probably. Do I feel bad for "going for it?" No, not in the slightest. Do I feel bad for lying? Yes, more horribly than I could have anticipated.
Lying to her about my feelings for Nesto can only mean trouble down the road (if there is indeed a road) as they have a child together and we will be coming into contact with one another. While she may be a bit high strung, I can empathize with her feelings over their breakup after 13 (!!) years together and I can tell ya what, I sure wouldn't like being directly lied to by the "other" woman after I have to balls to call and question said woman. I feel terrible because she could be me and I could be her, but for a few simple twists of fate. Bad karma is whispering threats in my ear.
Most of all, I feel bad because she was nice. Maybe if I look at it from a "white lie" perspective in which my lie actually helped her, I would feel better. Did I save her unnecessary grief? They were already broken up, she moved out this past weekend. Would the knowledge have helped her heal in anyway, doubtful? If they were broken up, is it any of her goddamn business? White lie status nonwithstanding, the important question is this: Do I still feel like a huge douchebag?
The answer is a resounding "YES."
ADDENDUM:
Nesto just brought me some tea during the writing of this post and while the tea alone is delicious, the thinking of me part really gets my goose. Charming motherfucker. May he be worth the shanking I might suffer at the hands of his ex...
In the meantime, I will bore you with my revolving-door love life s'more. Behold:
Saturdays are a day full of excitement for me, the day I love waking up early on so I can get to the bookstore, the specialty grocers, hit up a cafe for lunch, hike and be active with my Lo. Two Saturdays ago, I got more than I bargained for. Lola was sick with a flu/cold combo that was kicking both our asses so when she slept in (past 8am) on Saturday, I thanked my lucky stars and slept on.
Until Nesto called. Usually a great source of joy, he called apologizing right off the bat. Since we haven't even gotten a chance to become close enough to fight, I had NO idea what he was apologizing for. It soon became clear, however his ex had "found" a text from me and wished to speak with me as she didn't believe him when he said he wasn't a liar, a cheat and a very bad man.
He felt really bad so I told him, "sure, have her call me. I'm awake now, might as well." Well, call she did, during a horrible I'm-too-tired-and-sick-to-do-anything-but-lay-on-the-floor-and-cry episode from Lo. Between the bouts of screaming, she framed her questions in a firm and suspicious manner but she was kind and real and believed me as I lied to her.
Granted, this is a Friends scenario where her and Nesto were already broken up but should I have driven him back to his car instead of bringing him home with me? Probably. Should he have answered "car" when I gave him the option of car or couch? Probably. Do I feel bad for "going for it?" No, not in the slightest. Do I feel bad for lying? Yes, more horribly than I could have anticipated.
Lying to her about my feelings for Nesto can only mean trouble down the road (if there is indeed a road) as they have a child together and we will be coming into contact with one another. While she may be a bit high strung, I can empathize with her feelings over their breakup after 13 (!!) years together and I can tell ya what, I sure wouldn't like being directly lied to by the "other" woman after I have to balls to call and question said woman. I feel terrible because she could be me and I could be her, but for a few simple twists of fate. Bad karma is whispering threats in my ear.
Most of all, I feel bad because she was nice. Maybe if I look at it from a "white lie" perspective in which my lie actually helped her, I would feel better. Did I save her unnecessary grief? They were already broken up, she moved out this past weekend. Would the knowledge have helped her heal in anyway, doubtful? If they were broken up, is it any of her goddamn business? White lie status nonwithstanding, the important question is this: Do I still feel like a huge douchebag?
The answer is a resounding "YES."
ADDENDUM:
Nesto just brought me some tea during the writing of this post and while the tea alone is delicious, the thinking of me part really gets my goose. Charming motherfucker. May he be worth the shanking I might suffer at the hands of his ex...
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Matrimonial Bliss? No Thanks!
It's taken me almost 24 years, but I've discovered my superhero talent: causing breakups. Cool huh?
Not to be confused with a run-of-the-mill "other woman," my powers don't require flirting, shagging or even speaking with a member of the doomed couple. I merely wish them broken up, and it happens.
You know that old adage, be careful what you wish for? Not a joke. I've wished for Sexy Nesto AND Sexy Adjuster to be broken up with their mates and lo and behold:
Nesto's ex is moving out of the house in a week's time and Adjuster's wife has filed for a divorce and they are both asking me for some lovin'
Now, I realize this may be a blessing I should take advantage of (having caused this chaos with superpowers) but I'm a bit worried about dealing with men who have very recently gotten out of decade+ relationships.
My goal: I will be extremely clear that I am not Wifey II material.
Since I've had Nesto mention Lo and I moving in with him and how cute our children would be (as in: not our existing daughters but children we should create together- yikes!) and Adjuster ask if I'd like to meet his children, who were born while I was still in my early teens, this can't be put off...
Will this become more and more common as I get older? Men looking to tie me down forever and ever and ever? Sccccaaaaarrrrryyyy....
Not to be confused with a run-of-the-mill "other woman," my powers don't require flirting, shagging or even speaking with a member of the doomed couple. I merely wish them broken up, and it happens.
You know that old adage, be careful what you wish for? Not a joke. I've wished for Sexy Nesto AND Sexy Adjuster to be broken up with their mates and lo and behold:
Nesto's ex is moving out of the house in a week's time and Adjuster's wife has filed for a divorce and they are both asking me for some lovin'
Now, I realize this may be a blessing I should take advantage of (having caused this chaos with superpowers) but I'm a bit worried about dealing with men who have very recently gotten out of decade+ relationships.
My goal: I will be extremely clear that I am not Wifey II material.
Since I've had Nesto mention Lo and I moving in with him and how cute our children would be (as in: not our existing daughters but children we should create together- yikes!) and Adjuster ask if I'd like to meet his children, who were born while I was still in my early teens, this can't be put off...
Will this become more and more common as I get older? Men looking to tie me down forever and ever and ever? Sccccaaaaarrrrryyyy....
Monday, January 12, 2009
Cheeky Little Whippersnapper!
I'm sitting in the hallway of the bowling alley where the reception is held, smoking a cigarette (!), nursing my gin and juice and people watching. The date of one of Mitch's friends comes and sits by me, we start chatting.
A group of guys get up and return to the dance floor, leaving one of their sly pals behind, a plant. He proceeds to strike up a conversation with the girl-date and I. With names exchanged and relationships to bride and groom clarified (none) he asks our ages.
GD, embarassed: I'm 18.
Slyguy to me: What about you?
Me: Hmmph, I think that's probably a rude question to ask.
GD: She's much older.
Slyguy to me, again. (Persistant little bastard.): It's not rude, c'mon tell us your age.
Me: I'm 24.
Slyguy: Whoa, I'm only 21. I guess I'm like a baby compared to you...
Me: narrowed eyes shooting a lazer death beam towards his baby face. ZAP! Kaboom! Brains on the back wall.
Ok, actually GD and I ignored him til he left, then laughed. But really, what's worse, telling people I'm 24 when my birthday is still a few months away (I always seem to jump the gun) or agreeing that yes, 21 is too young. I mean, I have Lo, do I really need a baby who is now able to booze it up?
Yikes. I'm definitely getting old.
A group of guys get up and return to the dance floor, leaving one of their sly pals behind, a plant. He proceeds to strike up a conversation with the girl-date and I. With names exchanged and relationships to bride and groom clarified (none) he asks our ages.
GD, embarassed: I'm 18.
Slyguy to me: What about you?
Me: Hmmph, I think that's probably a rude question to ask.
GD: She's much older.
Slyguy to me, again. (Persistant little bastard.): It's not rude, c'mon tell us your age.
Me: I'm 24.
Slyguy: Whoa, I'm only 21. I guess I'm like a baby compared to you...
Me: narrowed eyes shooting a lazer death beam towards his baby face. ZAP! Kaboom! Brains on the back wall.
Ok, actually GD and I ignored him til he left, then laughed. But really, what's worse, telling people I'm 24 when my birthday is still a few months away (I always seem to jump the gun) or agreeing that yes, 21 is too young. I mean, I have Lo, do I really need a baby who is now able to booze it up?
Yikes. I'm definitely getting old.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
It's Raining Men... DUCK, RUN FOR COVAAAA!
I believe I've mentioned Ernesto and his extreme hotness. Well, let me just say that he is totally worthy of an entire post.
Have you seen Robin Hood, Men in Tights? If you haven't, you should. It's a stupid fucking movie in the absolute best ways. When I was wee, Little John and Will (Robin's sidekicks) were the objects of my adoration and they still evoke warmy fuzzies when I watch the movie. Little John is a huge man of little words while Will is sharp-witted, dark and has the prerequisite facial hair. Nesto is the perfect combination between these two, my ultimate crush.
Tall, a bigger (than my norm) man, with dark hair, eyes and sense of humor, and that saucy accent, oh the dirty things he makes me daydream...
We've worked together a little over a two years now and while there has been gentle flirting, it's not more serious than a workplace crush who, I suspect, knows of my infatuation.
He's had a hard life, being raised one of many children, first generation Americans on the nitty-gritty South Side of Milwaukee. He got into a spot of trouble when he was younger and is now focusing on flipping homes on his off-time and generally being a hermit. Literally, this guy qualifies for hermit-status, I've gotten him out with me once and I tend to be pretty persuasive when I have ulterior motives.
He's one of those people that can fix anything and proves himself invaluable to me by performing the routine maintenence on my car (while most women measure a month by menses, he has an inner 3-month calendar for oil changes and air filter checks) and also not so routine maintenence such as when my car window gets smashed in and he saves me 300.00+ dollars. And let's not forget helping me move, or setting up my bookcase (with books) or moving the enormous TV generously donated to me. And when I offer him some sort of culinary compensation (cherry pie, yo?), he graciously refuses with one of those killer smiles.
Other wonderful things about Nesto:
1. He likes me in pink - which I actually wear sometimes, although I hate it, for him. Gag.
2. He lies to me. "That split lip is barely noticeable..."
3. When he gets worked up about something, he speaks rapidly in Spanish while his voice gets louder and louder. It's really funny to hear, especially since I don't know what he's saying.
4. He's shy.
5. He's wonderful with Lola.
6. THE smile, yowza.
One HORRIBLE Thing about Nesto:
1. Longtime girlfriend, bum bum buuuuuummmmmm....
SO he finally made me an offer to go out tomorrow night for dinner and beers and I'm going to be on my best behavior. The mantra for the night will go something like "I will not put the moves on poor Nesto, I will put the moves on poor Nesto...."
But, dear audience... all I really want to do is put the moves on dear, sexy Ernesto.
PS. Another longtime crush of mine, a 30ish adjuster just let me in on the fact that him and his wife are splitting. To console him and take his mind off his grief, I'm taking him out on Friday night, ever-dependable Etta.
Have you seen Robin Hood, Men in Tights? If you haven't, you should. It's a stupid fucking movie in the absolute best ways. When I was wee, Little John and Will (Robin's sidekicks) were the objects of my adoration and they still evoke warmy fuzzies when I watch the movie. Little John is a huge man of little words while Will is sharp-witted, dark and has the prerequisite facial hair. Nesto is the perfect combination between these two, my ultimate crush.
Tall, a bigger (than my norm) man, with dark hair, eyes and sense of humor, and that saucy accent, oh the dirty things he makes me daydream...
We've worked together a little over a two years now and while there has been gentle flirting, it's not more serious than a workplace crush who, I suspect, knows of my infatuation.
He's had a hard life, being raised one of many children, first generation Americans on the nitty-gritty South Side of Milwaukee. He got into a spot of trouble when he was younger and is now focusing on flipping homes on his off-time and generally being a hermit. Literally, this guy qualifies for hermit-status, I've gotten him out with me once and I tend to be pretty persuasive when I have ulterior motives.
He's one of those people that can fix anything and proves himself invaluable to me by performing the routine maintenence on my car (while most women measure a month by menses, he has an inner 3-month calendar for oil changes and air filter checks) and also not so routine maintenence such as when my car window gets smashed in and he saves me 300.00+ dollars. And let's not forget helping me move, or setting up my bookcase (with books) or moving the enormous TV generously donated to me. And when I offer him some sort of culinary compensation (cherry pie, yo?), he graciously refuses with one of those killer smiles.
Other wonderful things about Nesto:
1. He likes me in pink - which I actually wear sometimes, although I hate it, for him. Gag.
2. He lies to me. "That split lip is barely noticeable..."
3. When he gets worked up about something, he speaks rapidly in Spanish while his voice gets louder and louder. It's really funny to hear, especially since I don't know what he's saying.
4. He's shy.
5. He's wonderful with Lola.
6. THE smile, yowza.
One HORRIBLE Thing about Nesto:
1. Longtime girlfriend, bum bum buuuuuummmmmm....
SO he finally made me an offer to go out tomorrow night for dinner and beers and I'm going to be on my best behavior. The mantra for the night will go something like "I will not put the moves on poor Nesto, I will put the moves on poor Nesto...."
But, dear audience... all I really want to do is put the moves on dear, sexy Ernesto.
PS. Another longtime crush of mine, a 30ish adjuster just let me in on the fact that him and his wife are splitting. To console him and take his mind off his grief, I'm taking him out on Friday night, ever-dependable Etta.
Monday, September 29, 2008
The Men and my Beautiful Bartendress...
When I decided what today's blog would be about, I smiled an inner, awkward smile. This will probably have to be one of those posts I edit a bit before allowing random Joes, Schmoes, and family read.
Without further ado, meet the actors in the play called my sex life:
Tee: father of my child, ex-boyfriend, current lover, a wonderful yet annoying wanker of a dude.
Jay: classmate, first rate weirdo, current (?) lover
Aech: friend of friends, one-time drunken fuck that evolved into someone that took me on a few dates and opened my car doors. Ha. Car door opener.
Michael: aquaintance of friend, pillow, trying to get me to go out with him, no nooky
Saturday night, I got drunk and drove Tee home and fucked the shit out of him. It was ex-sex with all the rage and pent-up frustration with a saccarine honey coating of I miss the shit out of you. It was raunchy and sad and sweet. I don't know how things will end up between the two of us since I'm not willing to go back in time and become the Tee's girlfriend version of Etta. I want to continue my lacivious ways, have fun, continue to explore my badass self instead of becoming a girlfriend caricature or half of a couple.
On a lighter note, I know Tee (that sneaky bastard) masterminded our lovin' He and Carlson went out together and Ashley and I went out. We met with the guys and Meg and Heather at the Ash and Carlson conveniently left without Tee, I was suddenly his ride. On the way home, I asked if he would be ok with coming home with me.
PEEL BACK MY SCALP, SKULL AND LAYERS OF BRAIN AND HERE'S WHAT'S GOING THRU MY THOUGHTS:
Etta and Tee primly getting tucked into different sleeping spaces (him on couch, me in bed) and then me saying: "oh this is silly, why don't you come lie down with me" Tee:"ok, I won't try anything, I just miss holding you"
BACK TO REALITY:
Tee: "Can we go to my house instead?"
Me: drunkenly considering, "ummm, ok, I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as I'm home early tomorrow for Lo."
We arrive at his house, and NOBODY is there. Many a car, not a soul. Hmmmm, goes my little brain, waitasecond...
And WHAM BAM THANKYOUMA'AM. Thank you Tee, that was great. Even if that was our last ever, it has been memorialized in Blackheart Lola and for future Ettas' benefit: it was good, it is something to smile back on.
JAY:
Ha, this is a weird one ladies and gentlemen... I met JaY last year probably almost exactly a year ago. I was pursuing a different classmate, very unsucessfully (fuck you James - name NOT changed!) and meeting a lot of new people in school by bringing them out to the bars with me after night class. Jay was quiet and I laughed up at him in the Hilltop when he asked me for my phone number. I gave it to him and hung out with him, James and Mitch for awhile but we eventually lost touch. Suddenly at Summerfest, the crowds part and Jay saunters back into my life. I drove him home the next morning, although we slept at different houses (me at Efrain's and him at Nicole's) and now we either text, talk or hang out everyday.
He's cool as shit BUT (and these are big "buts"...) he takes a loooong time before he's comfortable talking to people so taking him out to the bar with me and meeting my friends has pretty much been a disaster. Roy was insulted that he kept trying to make his acquaintance and Jay kept avoiding his conversation like Roy carried the plague. I don't think Jay likes children very much, highly believes in abortion and thinks more people should get them (yikes, we're all entitled to our beliefs but that's a hard one for me to accept) and is really weird about sex.
Which brings us to part III, the sex. WHich is interesting and funny but I'm at work and I'll need to continue this post later. Ohhh, stop whining imaginary readers, by the time you get to enjoy this, there'll be an archive. Jeez.
Without further ado, meet the actors in the play called my sex life:
Tee: father of my child, ex-boyfriend, current lover, a wonderful yet annoying wanker of a dude.
Jay: classmate, first rate weirdo, current (?) lover
Aech: friend of friends, one-time drunken fuck that evolved into someone that took me on a few dates and opened my car doors. Ha. Car door opener.
Michael: aquaintance of friend, pillow, trying to get me to go out with him, no nooky
Saturday night, I got drunk and drove Tee home and fucked the shit out of him. It was ex-sex with all the rage and pent-up frustration with a saccarine honey coating of I miss the shit out of you. It was raunchy and sad and sweet. I don't know how things will end up between the two of us since I'm not willing to go back in time and become the Tee's girlfriend version of Etta. I want to continue my lacivious ways, have fun, continue to explore my badass self instead of becoming a girlfriend caricature or half of a couple.
On a lighter note, I know Tee (that sneaky bastard) masterminded our lovin' He and Carlson went out together and Ashley and I went out. We met with the guys and Meg and Heather at the Ash and Carlson conveniently left without Tee, I was suddenly his ride. On the way home, I asked if he would be ok with coming home with me.
PEEL BACK MY SCALP, SKULL AND LAYERS OF BRAIN AND HERE'S WHAT'S GOING THRU MY THOUGHTS:
Etta and Tee primly getting tucked into different sleeping spaces (him on couch, me in bed) and then me saying: "oh this is silly, why don't you come lie down with me" Tee:"ok, I won't try anything, I just miss holding you"
BACK TO REALITY:
Tee: "Can we go to my house instead?"
Me: drunkenly considering, "ummm, ok, I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as I'm home early tomorrow for Lo."
We arrive at his house, and NOBODY is there. Many a car, not a soul. Hmmmm, goes my little brain, waitasecond...
And WHAM BAM THANKYOUMA'AM. Thank you Tee, that was great. Even if that was our last ever, it has been memorialized in Blackheart Lola and for future Ettas' benefit: it was good, it is something to smile back on.
JAY:
Ha, this is a weird one ladies and gentlemen... I met JaY last year probably almost exactly a year ago. I was pursuing a different classmate, very unsucessfully (fuck you James - name NOT changed!) and meeting a lot of new people in school by bringing them out to the bars with me after night class. Jay was quiet and I laughed up at him in the Hilltop when he asked me for my phone number. I gave it to him and hung out with him, James and Mitch for awhile but we eventually lost touch. Suddenly at Summerfest, the crowds part and Jay saunters back into my life. I drove him home the next morning, although we slept at different houses (me at Efrain's and him at Nicole's) and now we either text, talk or hang out everyday.
He's cool as shit BUT (and these are big "buts"...) he takes a loooong time before he's comfortable talking to people so taking him out to the bar with me and meeting my friends has pretty much been a disaster. Roy was insulted that he kept trying to make his acquaintance and Jay kept avoiding his conversation like Roy carried the plague. I don't think Jay likes children very much, highly believes in abortion and thinks more people should get them (yikes, we're all entitled to our beliefs but that's a hard one for me to accept) and is really weird about sex.
Which brings us to part III, the sex. WHich is interesting and funny but I'm at work and I'll need to continue this post later. Ohhh, stop whining imaginary readers, by the time you get to enjoy this, there'll be an archive. Jeez.
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