-Acted like a total crazy person and committed several elementary blogging faux pas, the evidence of which has been expurgated.
-Cried about being a crazy person. (Three times.)
-Apologized for same. (I hope sufficiently.)
-Flirted.
-Got laid! My good ol' deflowerer called me up and we had a lovely time. Dearest Sojourner is totally right about the importance of a "winter spoon"--I'd forgotten how great it is to have a warm naked man in your bed on an icy cold day!
-As a result, at least partially got over the need to make a conquest of the famed Guy I Shouldn't Fuck. I needed at any cost to get laid, or at least make out, even if I knew it was a bad idea.* But now I've had my Sex That Goes Nowhere, so I'm a little less driven to distraction. And Nowhere Man is out of sight/mind--at this point, if Nowhere Man were someone I had to see all the time, I'd probably get depressed. It sucks always being back at Square One.
-That being said, I have no will power (see: me being a crazy person). So we'll see what happens.
-Fell on first sight for yet another skinny guy in glasses, this one theatre-affiliated. We smiled at each other! Baby photos to come.
-Tried to explain to a friend why I cared if anyone thought I was a slut. Did a bad job.
-Had a totally good time at a party I was angsty about.
-Fell in love with a specific bagel, but that's really not so interesting.
Now, hopefully, I can start posting anything of substance.
*As I told Sojourner: "My two main orifices are screaming for me to step on the gas; it's just the rest of me that's whining about the speed limit."
Monday, January 28, 2008
Things I Did This Weekend
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Drunken Blogging
Well, not actually. In fact, I wish. Tonight was beyond a let-down. I went to the Usual Bar with, literally, condoms in my back pocket. I WAS PREPARED FOR BATHROOM SEX. I was expecting to see Guy I Shouldn't Fuck--there was a small event, supposedly--but he didn't show. He'd Facebook RSVPed for chrissake! Is nothing sacred??? I hadn't decided it was full-on Sexy Time, but I was cruising for at least some covert smooches, and I'd made the bed and done some "personal grooming" just in case. All for naught. Not only was GISF not in attendance, my usual go-to barflies had been there 'till 4 a.m. the night before and were understandably not answering their phones, and everyone else in the area was either working or in bed*.
So I'm nursing my Newcastle, when the cute AWOL dude's onerous roommate walks in. Of course. The last time we were both in the bar together, my roommate attested that he was totally making eyes at me the whole time, which means he is a ridiculous social retard with whom I want nothing to do. So, obviously, he sits down next to me and we chat. I'm half-hoping he'll make a move so I can be mean to him, but if he had his act together enough to make a move we wouldn't even be in this situation, so no luck there**. I take two sips of my second drink and go home to watch my cat have an awesome fucking time with a piece of wire and some cardboard. I wish I were so easily satisfied.
I'm sure there is some lesson or moral here. Actually, I'm not sure of that at all, but I feel guilty writing about myself without having a larger point. Perhaps it is that some people just don't know how to behave themselves, and one is better off without them. Perhaps it is that one should only get pedicures for one's own enrichment, and not in anticipation of a non-guaranteed hook-up. (Fortunately, a pedicure is pretty much ALWAYS self-enriching.) Perhaps it is that one should never restrict one's dating pool, and I need to find a new bar.
Or perhaps I should just try fuckin JDate. Oh woe.
*At 10 P.M.! That is an outrageous hour for both of those activities.
**To be fair, I was making a conscious effort NOT to touch my hair or send any other IOIs, and mostly had my hand over my mouth, which I'd heard on the radio once was body language for "Do Not Enter."
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Gender, Booze, And Song
More karaoke last night, this time at the Bar We Always Go To--they're now doing it once a month. It was fun, and I sang "Wicked Game" (now one of my standard jams), which went over well partially because it's perfect for my voice, but also the MC said she'd never heard a woman sing that song. She seemed quite impressed--she mentioned it several times. Later, Guy Who Blew Me Off* complimented me on the choice.
I then chatted with Guy I Shouldn't Hook Up With** about the fact that I drink whiskey and that this makes me cool. I confided in him that I decided (years ago) that I would train myself to like whiskey in order to impress boys...and that it was way easier than I expected and now Jack on the rocks is my favorite drink, which is slightly unfortunate because it's not as cheap as well vodka.
The point being: yay, hooray, for occasionally feeling that minor manifestations of my gender issues can be appealing to other people. For while singing sultry male songs and drinking macho drinks makes ME feel sexy, and is SUPPOSED to make other people think I'm sexy, I rarely have a clue how things actually play out.
Or is it laughable that I think of singing Chris Isaak and drinking whiskey as expressions of gender identity?
*He needs a better nickname. I still think of him as Monday Guy but since we hooked up a month ago that no longer really makes sense.
**There were way too many Persons of Interest at this bar last night, but that's a different story.
Monday, January 14, 2008
But More Importantly, Let's Talk About Me
Enough of this politics crap, am I right? You all want to know what's going down with Susan B. So, a recap:
-I'm leaving my job at the end of the month. Which totally means I should finally ask out my workplace crush, and I totally won't.
-Goddamn he is dreamy. His smile is Obama-calibre, but with the addition of crinkly, twinkly eyes.
-Due to the anxiety caused by quitting my job, I've been smoking pot every night just to fall asleep. Which basically works, though I am kept up an extra hour by the fact that the pot makes me really horny, and I am visited by visions of the non-sugarplum variety. Last night it was S&M fantasies of surprising ferocity.
-Karaoke birthday party was this weekend. My dad got adorably trashed, took the mic, and sang along with every song. Even ones he didn't know. Even "Let Me Blow Ya Mind." I've discovered my new jam, and it is "Special" from Avenue Q.
-I'm mentally preparing myself for a party two weeks from now at which way too many Guys I've Slept With will probably be present. I attempted to secure a female beard*, to no avail. So instead I'm going to re-wear my birthday party dress, which should honestly do the trick in terms of not feeling like a self-conscious tool.
-My longish-distance friend and I have vowed that we will not see each other again until we once again look as skinny as we do in my Facebook profile photo. I have yet to formulate any strategies for achieving this goal, but Time Out New York recommends chasing pigeons.
-Having been blown off by that guy I made out with has for some reason awoken the old urge to have sex with someone random in some bathroom somewhere. And the night I started having these thoughts, the Guy I Flirt With But Should Totally Not Hook Up With made a joke about us having sex in the bathroom, so I'm seriously in trouble. Also, he is the first guy's roommate.
-It occurs to me that the reason the encounter has triggered these thoughts is that this guy was supposed to be a fix-up and total Boyfriend Material, and since that was a flop I'm kind of going, "Screw you, guys who are Boyfriend Material! This scene is lame-and-a-half! I'm out of here!" And the roommate, I'm told, doesn't date Jews, which is maybe what makes him appealing because I know upfront how things would go**.
-Also, after a disturbingly long time not doing so, I've started masturbating again, and I realized I haven't posted much on masturbation so I should probably get on that.
-This guy I hooked up with forever ago, and hate for various reasons (I NEVER hate guys for simply not wanting to date me, but there were some serious Circumstances here) found out that I hate him, and now doesn't want to be around me, and at first I felt really bad and pathetic about this but then I learned more about how he discovered I hated him and I felt better because it was sort of exactly how I hoped it would happen. I am SO not used to these long-term vindictive feelings but I guess it happens to plenty of people at some point.
That's all for now.
*Cuz a male beard would just be pathetic!
**Not to imply that I could actually get this guy's pants off. Let's not jinx things.
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