Always with the bad choices

Another very late night. Went out for beer with K. We're sitting there, enjoying the hockey game (Montreal vs. Philly. Go Habs!) and groaning at the old men trying to pick up the young girls. Ugh. So then my phone rings. It's DS. He asks where I am, and sure enough, he's outside. We get K on her way home, head back to the bar where R is waiting with more beer.

R sticks around until around 12 then takes off. He has work in the morning. So, 3am rolls around, DS and I get kicked out of the bar and walk to my place. I think we got home around 4 but I'm really not sure. I love doing DS. He's packing and he knows how to use it. I'm a little sore today, but it's that good kind of sore.

I know I said before that I really wasn't interested in anything with him; he has issues, a few of which he told me about last night, and acknowledges that he's not in a good place right now. I don't want anything serious, but I think I like him.

Am I or aren't I?

So apparently, my aura has a lot of yellow. This means that I am in my head a lot; I am analytical, sometimes to a fault. I didn't think this about myself. I always thought I didn't think enough about things. I sometimes rush into things without considering the consequences; maybe I need to start doing that more often? More thinking with the gut than the head? Is over-analyzing a bad thing? Whoo, and there I go again!

In other news, my friend S started to make his move on me. He was on the "mack attack," as we used to say in high school. I didn't mind him before. He is a nice guy, pleasant, works out, not horrible looking, but has eyes that are a little troll-like. Anyway, we watched movies together Saturday night and as it got later, all I could think was, Go home. Go home go home go home. He makes me pause the movie to make a comment. He interrupts me when I'm talking. He has no interests outside martial arts and Asian films. All his stories are about other people. He's BORING. Gah.

So I sent the word out for R to discourage him as much as possible. Tell him I'm a lesbian; tell him I'm a horrible bitch who eats boys like him for breakfast; tell him I'm dating some 400-lb football player from Detroit. I don't care. Hopefully it works. I knew what he wanted and gave it a shot, because honestly, I even considered him for a casual lay. Nope. He bugs me too much for that.

Bring on the next contender!

Dinner out

There was this girl sitting at the bar in the restaurant tonight, alone. She was drinking wine, texting on her phone, glancing at the door hopefully for almost half an hour. K and I were watching her. The thought that crossed both our minds was, She's been stood up. And then we cringed.

It's a horrible feeling. Especially when you're in a public space and everyone can see you've been stood up. At least when you're being picked up at home, you have the security and the privacy for your dignity. At a restaurant, you're out in the open; you think everyone is staring at you and KNOWS. K and I were on the cusp of asking her to sit with us. We can identify with a fellow damsel in distress.

She was just finishing her wine, which we thought was a good time to approach her, when suddenly her arm shot out and she was waving at someone who had just come in the door. We breathed a sigh of relief. At least he showed up; his character was redeemed. And then K smirked. The person who had entered was the girl's mom. I guess you can't be mad if it's your mom keeping you waiting.

Samedi Gras

It was my first time in a gay bar last night. I went downtown with my old roommate/friend from high school, The Lesbian, for Mardi Gras night. My beads are gold. What I loved about this place was the fricken drag queens. I wish I was a man so I could be one. One queen, and I forget his name, was so gorgeous; he had more cleavage than I do. He had this long, Gone with the Wind type dress, huge black, curly wig, and the most eyeshadow I have ever seen on one person. One guy was flashing his cock for beads; the toilet overflowed in the bathroom when I flushed it; my ass was grabbed by a straight girl, a lesbian, a gay, and an old straight man.

We avoided drama with one of the Lesbian's ex-girlfriends, whom she sneered at everytime she walked by. GingerKid ended up being there with his ex-girlfriend and co. since it was her birthday. He stayed behind when everyone else left. We went for pizza, someone kicked their shoe at my ass, and then GingerKid and I walked to his house and I walked home from there.

What I love about my city is the fact I can walk anywhere I want to go. I should have had better shoes, but I made it home nonetheless. What I find interesting (and maybe it's just me) is that here I am walking home alone at 4 in the morning, a girl, weaving slightly on the sidewalk (I wasn't drunk, I was avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk and trying not to step on worms), passed 3 police cars, and none of them stopped to make sure I was ok. I would think, if a cop saw a girl walking alone at 4 in the morning, he would offer to escort her home. I was fine and didn't need it, but still. Maybe it's just me.

Friday night's alright

I had a miniparty last night. I don't think more than 10 people showed up, which is fine. Sometimes small groups are more fun. A few people I had really wanted to see didn't make it so I was a little disappointed. Oh well, next time. It was fun.

Everything was going along smoothly; everyone was getting along, meeting new people, just meshing nicely. I like the mature people I associate with. Two important things of which to make note:

One, R pulled me aside. Apparently, DS has been sweating it out all week because he's worried I took the sex as more than sex. He is going through a lot and doesn't want that stress, or so R tells me. I was so relieved. Here I was worried DS was thinking the same thing. R hugged me and said, "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that," and then promptly went to tell DS the good news. Phew.

Second, GingerKid had a bit of a breakdown. He drank A LOT of rum last night. I tried to keep his intake in check just because he has some medical stuff he has to watch out for. With that said, he drank half a bottle of rum straight, not to mention the plethora of various rum and vodka concoctions he'd been consuming all evening. Around midnight, he started to crack. He's much more messed up about E than I thought. The breakup was hard, afterwards was hard, and now he thinks she's not talking to him because of a comment he made about not wanting to know about her sex life.

GingerKid had me and five other guys trying to calm him down. Two of those gentlemen he had never met before and there they were, throwing out bad relationship stories just to show him he's not alone. I certainly learned a little bit about the male psyche last night.

I forget that men have feelings sometimes. I know it sounds horrible, but I always considered them to be more independent, unattached, indifferent. Last night reminded me that boys have emotions and insecurities, too.

My soft spot for the homos

Just like I love puppies, coffee and Irish accents, I love gay boys. There is a new store opening near me and so far, about 90% of the staff are gays. I'm really excited. One of them is a friend of mine so I'm happy for him and his new job; but on the other hand, I'm happy for me. I have never been more entertained or been more cheered than when talking to a gay.

They're always so neat and proper and enthusiastic. Also, they'll always tell me the truth. Girls are honest sometimes, when it suits them or if it will hurt you; gays say it like it is, but I can't hate them because they do the hand flip and call me honey. The manager of the new store called me honey tonight. It makes me melt in a really odd way; like when you can make a baby giggle. ... Is this normal?

I hope this doesn't contrast with my earlier post about how we shouldn't judge people by their orientation. I don't judge; I love.

Off and Running

My dry spell is over! After a little more than 2 months with no sex, I got some last night. DS is a nice, tall gentleman who walked me to work this morning and was going to buy me coffee, but I turned him down. I don't like when guys feel obligated to make an effort in the morning. I appreciated the sex, you don't need to get my breakfast.

The evening started off with drinking and Chuck Norris facts, then general chitchat. Then we went on a quest for cigarettes and our friend R tried to hit on the lesbian who had joined us. I used her bathroom at one point. Her house is nice.

Meanwhile, R and DS went back to my place so I could pick up some stuff, and then we all crashed at R's for the night. DS and I defiled R's couch. It was worth it. And usually, size doesn't matter to me, but in DS' case, it sure helped. God-damn.

There are a few things that make me hesitant to make it into anything more than just sex with him. One, he's a former coke addict. He's been to rehab and been clean for about a year. Two, he recently lost his license for drunk driving. He owns up to his mistakes, but I don't want to be seriously connected to someone like that.

Mindboggling

I really don't understand how people can hold such prejudicial views about someone's way of life, sexual orientation, race, sex or religion. None of those things even register in my mind when I'm talking to someone. It's just ... who they are. It doesn't make them better or worse than anyone else. It's just ... them.

Tonight we dropped in on some lovely ladies who fed us and offered some good conversation. The topic came up about how Hilary is being treated in the elections in the states. As a woman, she has to suffer some pretty sexist comments. I guess at one event, someone held up a sign that read, "Wash my shirts" or something along those lines. (I know I should check these things out before passing them on, but yay for lack of journalistic itegrity in blogs!)

Now, if someone had held up a sign that read something like, oh I don't know .. "Pick my cotton" aimed at Obama, wouldn't someone cause a stink? Why is it ok to publicly ridicule someone based on something as trivial as Being A Woman, and everyone seems to shrug it off like it's just something women have to go through? Oh, it's just men being men; women are used to it.

Well, no, we're not. Rude, sexist comments are inappropriate. And when women speak out about, they're not "over-reacting;" they're RE-acting. If it were blacks or jews being targeted with that kind of behaviour, there would be something said about it. Why is it still ok to be condescending to women?

I'd do a man of science

George Gamow** has a Niels Bohr anecdote I find amusing:

Above the front door to his cottage, Bohr nailed a horseshoe. Someone saw it and asked, "Being as great a scientist as you are, do you really believe that a horseshoe above the entrance to a home brings luck?"

Bohr replied, "No, I certainly do not believe in this superstition. But you know, they say that it does bring luck even if you don't believe in it."

**Thirty Years that Shook Physics: The Story of Quantum Theory.