I vowed to be on my own for a while after things ended with the WIZARD - take some time to focus on work, read some books, go to the gym....that lasted two weeks. Enter BOOM BOOM.
BOOM BOOM is in a really great drummer I've been friends with for a while, although no flirting has ever taken place til recently. He's endearing, to say the least - beautiful blue eyes, homemade haircut, a bit shorter than me, a speech impediment, and the most ridiculous fashion sense you've never imagined.
He came to one of my shows, citing that he loves my band. Maybe it was the sudden attention from him, but when he walked in, I suddenly wondered what it would be like to have sex with him. He was wearing blue one-piece ski suit and pink sunglasses. Truly adorable. I scooted over to him when we finished playing and it seemed clear he was thinking about sleeping with me too.
The next night I had another show, which BOOM BOOM also attended. Afterward, we shared a glass of whiskey and talked about music. The top button of my blouse kept coming undone, and he finally said, "I'll consider that an invitation." We hailed a cab and went to his place.
In his bedroomm, he put on an album of Cambodian children's songs and we got right to it. My shirt obviously came off easily, and his glow-in-the-dark camouflage sweatshirt came off with some ease as well. It was late-night, somewhat-drunk sex. Not great, but I could sense the potential. We went at it a couple times before I announced that I was going to walk home.
HIM: No. You can't leave now. It's motherfucking cuddle time.
ME: But your apartment's cold.
HIM: Here. Put this on and come sleep next to me.
BOOM BOOM handed me a hot pink PEPSI sweatshirt, so I snuggled up next to him, listening to the screeching sounds of those Cambodian kids.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The V-Day Massacre of '09
As you may recall from last year, I don't have the happiest Valentine's Day stories. This year was unfortunately more of the same.
Before my trip to see THE WIZARD, he booked a flight to visit me on Valentine's Day. We talked about honoring the plans, even though we had technically ended our relationship. What was wrong with spending a weekend together?
Of course, there is a lot wrong with this scenario, so we agreed to keep our distance. But his flight was booked, so he ended up in my city for the weekend, silently taunting me from a friend's place the next neighborhood over.
On V-day, I made plans to attend an infamous Make Out Party here in town with a friend. I put on a great outfit and danced with my friends, temporarily forgetting about the WIZARD. I even let SAM [the smarmy guy in a famous band I went out with last year] kiss me on the mouth for a second. I thought it just might turn into a decent V-Day.
The next day, I woke up feeling disgusting, from too much whiskey and a little bit of regret. I wanted to see the WIZARD. And apparently he wanted to see me. He asked me to meet him at the ice cream shop.
Amidst fluorescent lighting and squealing kids, many tears were shed. We unloaded all the feelings - anger, remorse, and some unrealistic ideas about our future... There was discussion of being in a very open relationship: staying in touch, and being together when we happened to be in the same city, and seeing if that led to something more serious. But it all seemed incredibly stupid upon some thought.
As we finished our banana split, I suddenly saw him as someone I wasn't falling in love with - he was a mess and his life didn't make sense with mine. He grinned at me, hiding his fucked up teeth the way he did when we first met. Poof. It was over. We said goodbye in the snowstorm:
HIM: Dude, I totally love you.
ME: I know.
Before my trip to see THE WIZARD, he booked a flight to visit me on Valentine's Day. We talked about honoring the plans, even though we had technically ended our relationship. What was wrong with spending a weekend together?
Of course, there is a lot wrong with this scenario, so we agreed to keep our distance. But his flight was booked, so he ended up in my city for the weekend, silently taunting me from a friend's place the next neighborhood over.
On V-day, I made plans to attend an infamous Make Out Party here in town with a friend. I put on a great outfit and danced with my friends, temporarily forgetting about the WIZARD. I even let SAM [the smarmy guy in a famous band I went out with last year] kiss me on the mouth for a second. I thought it just might turn into a decent V-Day.
The next day, I woke up feeling disgusting, from too much whiskey and a little bit of regret. I wanted to see the WIZARD. And apparently he wanted to see me. He asked me to meet him at the ice cream shop.
Amidst fluorescent lighting and squealing kids, many tears were shed. We unloaded all the feelings - anger, remorse, and some unrealistic ideas about our future... There was discussion of being in a very open relationship: staying in touch, and being together when we happened to be in the same city, and seeing if that led to something more serious. But it all seemed incredibly stupid upon some thought.
As we finished our banana split, I suddenly saw him as someone I wasn't falling in love with - he was a mess and his life didn't make sense with mine. He grinned at me, hiding his fucked up teeth the way he did when we first met. Poof. It was over. We said goodbye in the snowstorm:
HIM: Dude, I totally love you.
ME: I know.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Move Along!
My trip to see THE WIZARD was contaminated before it began. This long distance thing was about to fall apart.
The sex was still pretty explosive, but the intimacy was gone entirely. A month before, while fucking on my dining room table, we locked eyes and said sweet things to one another. This time it was strictly dirty talk. That kind of emancipated sex used to turn me on, but in this case it made me a little sad.
We spent the weekend playing guitar hero, cooking, fucking, and not really talking. The night before I left, I drew up the courage to ask what changed his mind about me. He pretended he didn't know what I was talking about for a while, but then admitted to me that he was over it.
HIM: Dude, the long distance thing doesn't work for me.
ME: I like the distance. I get to look forward to seeing you. And phone sex is great!
HIM: Phone sex is depressing. Even seeing you is depressing, because I know it won't happen again for a long time.
ME: So that's it? I can't be in front of your face all the time, so you give up?
HIM: Yeah.
He took me to the airport and we kissed good bye in front of two security guards who yelled "move along!" over and over. I didn't cry until the plane landed in my city.
The sex was still pretty explosive, but the intimacy was gone entirely. A month before, while fucking on my dining room table, we locked eyes and said sweet things to one another. This time it was strictly dirty talk. That kind of emancipated sex used to turn me on, but in this case it made me a little sad.
We spent the weekend playing guitar hero, cooking, fucking, and not really talking. The night before I left, I drew up the courage to ask what changed his mind about me. He pretended he didn't know what I was talking about for a while, but then admitted to me that he was over it.
HIM: Dude, the long distance thing doesn't work for me.
ME: I like the distance. I get to look forward to seeing you. And phone sex is great!
HIM: Phone sex is depressing. Even seeing you is depressing, because I know it won't happen again for a long time.
ME: So that's it? I can't be in front of your face all the time, so you give up?
HIM: Yeah.
He took me to the airport and we kissed good bye in front of two security guards who yelled "move along!" over and over. I didn't cry until the plane landed in my city.
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