Like taking a bullet

I am working on a revision for a paper on a book I haven't opened since early last semester (early Octoberish). Little did I know that a certain someone had slipped a note into said book for me to find later that day.
Unfortunately, I never found it... until today. I opened the book, and there it was.

I really was like taking a bullet in the stomach. I legitimately sat down onto the ground and just stared at it. It's amazing how such a cute and loving gesture can, only a few months later, cause such pain.

Fuck.

P.s. Valentine's Day was really good - Wren enjoyed the movie+dinner, and it was very cute. I kind of wish I hadn't overshadowed yesterday with today, though.

Rainman goes insane

Apparently, Rainman reads my blog(s). He doesn't like the content. He sends angry texts. How about a snippet, yes, in response to my blog posting:

You're a complete idiot and clearly didn't listen to anything I said to you the other night. Don't bother coming over tonight.

I get this while I'm freaking out in a midterm. Awesome. So I text him back for context, argue a little, and then call him. He proceeds to lay these little gems on me:

"You know, it's a matter of class" (which I apparently don't have), "I wasn't mad at you - I expected this of you... if you were 'emotionally developed' you would have known better," and "I don't want either of you coming over ever anyway."

So that's it. This man, who I still love, and who has always been the rational, calm, selfless center to my life... has lost his mind. He's driven over the deep end. He's gone insane.

I would expect such a reaction out of me - I'm ridiculously impetuous and irrational. But I never though that Rainman would ever show himself to be, dare I say it... selfish.

Ugh - why do the ones I actually want in my life turn out to be such divas.


I pulled him off my facebook, AIM list, contact list, etc. I don't want to bother him anymore if he's going to insult me.

Really, I'm kind of getting ready to cry into a pint of ice cream in my room for a while. The things he said... I don't know what I'm going to do.

Apparently Twitch hasn't seen this side of Rainman. Someone better warn him.

Fightin' over little ol' me?

Actually, the title of this blog is a complete misnomer. To assume that these two people are fighting over me gives me just a bit too much credit - even I'm not that self-involved. And trust me... I'm pretty bad at that. I have 250 people that read about the minute details of my life daily, after all.

*Ego swells with blood*

Anyway, I didn't know it, but when Rainman said he's pissed that Wren for starting to date me... he actually meant it. He legitimately was/is/will be pissed about this for a while. I didn't find out about it until I saw the text conversation between them - there were some pretty vicious words flying around.

Not lady gay-like language, at all.

On the one hand, I totally get it. It is a little weird because Wren and Rainman have been friends for a while; we all met at a capture-the-flag/fag game a year ago right when Rainman and I first started dating. On the other hand, I didn't know that Rainman's "restrictions" were actually serious. By now he's forbidden me from getting with any of his gay friends or acquaintances, which pretty much leaves me with the World of Warcraft-gays, the slobby disgusting pseudo-straight gays, and women.

I'm sure he'll forgive Wren eventually; I don't even think Rainman's "beef" is with me. By that same token, had I known that he would get this upset, I probably would have avoided anything with Wren. (That's a total lie - Wren is conversational and funny as hell... my two weaknesses).

For this moment, at least, I'm going to let my imagination get the best of me. In fact, I'm going to indulge in it.

In my mind, they are having an honor fight in my name. I hope it turns into a fight to the death. Nothing like seeing a skinny white boy from Connecticut battle it out with an even skinnier Mexican boy from El Paso.

JOLENE!

100th post + celebration!

It's only fitting that the 100th post celebration be of the same spirit as some news I have to share - happy, but not completely consequential (just yet).

It seems that I have, finally, made it through a hundred meaningless, unimportant, but somewhat interesting snippets from my life. You are now a hundred-times more aware of the subtleties of my life. Those 252 active visitors that read this blog from as far away as Saudi Arabia and Sudan are now that much more enriched with my gaiety.

Maybe those are poor closeted gays, looking to express themselves through the blogs they read... maybe it's just the Saudi government keeping an eye on me just in case.
Anyway - now the news!

A few days ago, I finally asked Wren to go to Britney with me. For those that missed this point, I got Britney tickets for when she's in Boston on March 16. They were a gift for my birthday, and I have two... one for me, and one for a special friend.

I must say that it took forever to convince him to go. He felt bad about taking such a gift from me, and it was only when I reminded him that they had been a gift to me anyway that he decided to go. I can see it in his eyes. Like every gay, his heart burns for cheap divas that sing awesome music post-going-crazy-and-shaving-your-head-to-avoid-a-drug-test-during-custody-hearings.

Win.

This weekend, on V-Day, we're going to dinner and then seeing a commentary on the human condition as it relates to American consumerism.

It's a serious film for serious people, you see. Should be good and funny. Wow, and I thought I was going to spend V-Day getting drunk in my room and listening to Joni Mitchell.

Here's to fucking your brains out cute dinner-dates.

I wanna dance with somebody!

Feet... pain... hurt. Ouchie. Yesterday, my partner and I danced for eight straight hours.

I've been slowly realizing over the past year that I've been dancing with my partner that ballroom really is a sport. We say it is, but no one takes us seriously. Nights like this, however, really bring the idea home.
Ballroom is not a sprint; it's a fucking marathon. Eight hours of dance, and I came home with my lungs in my shoes. Dirt tired (however tired dirt is; no idea what that expression means).

Not only that, but it's also a contact sport. These bitches and their partners would sooner fist-fight you on the dance floor than let you get into their space. They push and shove, and someone invariably gets hit in the face with a "stray" hand.


They were playing excellent music last night, so my partner and I really got into the dance. Quicksteps were quick (too quick), and tangos were sexy. I don't know what "sexy" is with a woman, but if it's at all the same as with a penis man, then we were probably okay.


Saw Providence boy there too... it was delightfully awkward for pretty much the whole evening. I never wrote about why, but let's just say that an okay date turned into a fairly needy, long-distance post-date.

Maybe someday I'll recap it for you. Until then, however, I'm still imagining nothing ever happened there.

Boys' night-in

So yesterday, I had the most pleasantly awkward experience of my year.

Because of various drama and the need to see people, I held the usual Lost-watching party in my living room. Granted, I had never seen he show, and even now, I still don't understand what it's about. I think I'm a little late to the party on that one.

Anyway, the "guest list" was priceless. It was me, Rainman, Rainman's ex (Hoover), and a guy that I'm interested in (pseudonym forthcoming). To clarify, that's Rainman and his two ex-boyfriends sitting down to dinner/Lost with my current interest.

Awkward.

I think Rainman got upset partway through the night. This has been happening a lot; last week, when I went over to his place for the Superbowl, his new boytoy was there. Twitch, which is what I and everyone else call him, is the nice boy I wrote about before who I want to hate but can't.

Anyways, I got upset last week because they were cute together, and he got upset this week (I think). I think this is just how it's going to be for a while until one of us gets left again. (Let's hope it goes on forever, I suppose!).


Day update: Today, I have an interview for a position at my school to help with Orientation for new freshman next year. I want the job so badly; here's to hoping that I get it!

Interchangeable "parts"

Today, I attended a Superbowl party with Rainman and his new beau. I feel like this new boy needs a name... some form of identification as I think he's going to be around for a while. Him and his twitch. Hey - that's his name.

(( Side note: I'm trying so hard to hate this kid right now, but he's so friendly, cute, and intelligent. He's someone I want to hate, but can't. Screw Twitch. ))

So yes - I was at the Superbowl thing today, and Twitch was there. I'm glad I told Rainman to invite him (which he probably would have anyway). It's finally become cemented in my mind that Twitch is perfect for Rainman, at least for now. It's adorable in fact.

When we arrived, they were baking a cake together. More about that in another post (it was disgusting). They were doing it together, and when I tried to help, Rainman shunned me, saying, "We got it already." When we were watching TV, I kept catching them patting or touching hands... the way we used to before.

Rainman has made it clear that Twitch is not replacing me. He's been ardent about it, declaring it with great fervor.

I get it, though - I know I've been replaced. I'm actually quite honored that I've been followed up by such a reputable and friendly person. He's very attractive and a good guy.

It's just... weird. I know, for example, that as I type this, they are probably in bed together. He's in my spot where I used to sleep. And that... sucks.

Oh well - I'm happy for him. And as I've said, I'm moving on and letting him do his thing. I've been retreated to the back burner now. I'm second class. I'm now just "the friend." Upstaged. Finished.


God, just take me out to pasture and shoot me.

Over-compensating

I'm having difficulty understanding a few things about love. This crazy emotion obviously makes otherwise normal people act like idiots. This isn't a bad thing; it's an awesome state to be in. Love it (pun intended).

There has been a resurgence, I think, of accepted PDA. I'm not just talking about making out in the street or holding hands. That's still relatively tame.

I'm talking about the plague of facebook, AIM, MSN, Skype, Twitter, and other internet-based examples of public affection. It's not enough that straight and gay people alike are in love and happy; they have to show the rest of us how happy they are.

My straight friend, Pookie (a name his girlfriend gave him - not me), is dating a girl named "Schnookie." I'm pretty sure her name is actually Emily or Elizabeth, but "Schnookie" is all I've ever known her as. For all I know, it's on her birth certificate. The future Mr. and Mrs. Pookie.


I compare it to a similar rise in design-cakes. I don't know how this fad came about, but apparently having a regular cake wasn't good enough. Also, this is a much bigger market (so I'm told) than I thought. Chefs actually attend culinary school for the sole purpose of becoming cake designers, knowing that idiots-in-love will drop any amount on a cake in the shape of the Chrysler building.

It's no long enough to be simply over the top with your confections, nor your affections. They have to be completely out there and outlandish, where everyone can see them. We (everybody else) are to remark at how happy you are and agree with you.


Attention couples! Important news, and I have this on good authority from the single-world: We don't fucking care.

Your happiness is awesome, but please... some of you couples are giving the rest of us diabetes with your relationship. My throat is closing up. I'm having an asthma attack.

Keep it to yourself, kthxbai.

Return of the Queen

Harro - you'll never guess who returned. The only hints I can give are that he's gay, fabulous, and Asian (bet you didn't know that).

The conclusion to the Rainman "fiasco" from last week.

This week was interesting - I took leave from most of my duties (ballroom, etc.) and just went to class and enjoyed myself for a while. It was really nice to get away the over-filled life of crap I find myself in usually.

Last week, I wrote about figuring out who Rainman's new boy was. That night, I went over to his place to figure out if I was right (I was), so that's all confirmed.

As of two days later, however, they are no longer together. So my new sleuthing talent doesn't really work that well. But I maintain that I was right albeit for under 48 hours.

I'm not sure how I feel about that, but... so it goes. I think Rainman is okay (probably less so than he makes out). They still hang out all the time, which I hate, and are really cute friends, which I hate even more. I am pleased that he has found a suitable replacement for me who makes him laugh; they are the same person, it seems.

And... that's all I'm going to say on that subject.-------------------------

In other news, I went on a number of dates in the past week with a number of very interesting people.

I, unfortunately, can't write about them specifically because I think two of them read this blog (hello you creepy stalkers). Let's just say that one was very good, one was very bad, and one was very good then later bad. I'm not sure which I would actually date as all of them had aspects that would make then non-compatible.

I'm sure I just sent them into a tizzy about who is who, though. A very gay tizzy. I like having this much power.

Dr. Know-it-all, I presume?

I'm a sleuth. Halfway through my complex variables class, I realized who Rainman's new man is. He has been keeping the identity secret since he told me about him, and it only just clicked in my brain who he is.

On the one hand, I'm kind of thrown by it... on the other hand, I'm mostly just pleased with myself. Of course, the clues were always right in front of me.

Side note: I should probably pay attention more in class. *facepalm*

Life changes

Well, here I am again to make an addendum to my New Year's Resolutions. My initial decision was to be less selfish - to give more to other people. It's too vague, though, so I offer an amendment:

Be less selfish, but fix my life again.

I realized that my cavalier attitude toward sex has surpassed even Samantha Jones. Once might even call it an addiction. In the past couple months, I've gotten my share of sex. And the only person it failed to please was me.

I'm sure all my former-church friends are going, "See! Told you it wouldn't be satisfying!" Those people are retarded, and they are missing the point. Sex is awesome, and I will never, ever give it up. I love who I am, kthxbai.

At what cost, however, have I become this overly sexual libertine? Well, from what I can tell (and given my past few dates), it's all been at the cost of romance.

Take my situation with FitRec. He's a genuinely romantic person (albeit one I wouldn't want to date). But because I was so interested in the sex, I only realized we weren't compatible at all only AFTER we screwed.

That's not a good way to date.


So I'm going to violate my own rule ("Always have sex on the first date") and shun my attitudes ("Sex is just sex - fuck emotions"). It's time I committed to the person that I should really be happy with - myself. And maybe a few cute sex-less dates on the way.



P.s. Rainman and I have been texting. This is baaaaaad for me, but I can't stop myself. I'm such a masochist - I don't think we've ever spoken where I didn't feel the sudden urge to go home and swallow everything in the medicine cabinet.

I don't know what to do there.

Finally had 'da talk'

I have been realizing over the past few days that FitRec saw me as "more than just friends [with benefits]". That, of course, is a problem; I thought he understood our "relationship" was strictly sexual.

... which he obviously didn't. God, that queen pulled a bitch-fit like no other.

But things are okay - he is updated on the actual situation. To be completely honest, I don't think we're going to hook up again. I made this mistake before, giving them an inch while they took a mile (yeah, it's that big :P).

So FitRec is out. If you want to forget that he's an important character in the story of my life, feel free.

It's that time again

Rainman is officially over me - he has flown the coop. Good for him. I've been dating different people for weeks. And yet... it's been driving me crazy for days. I have nothing really to say about it - I don't think I've really accepted it yet.

Ugh. I can't believe this is what he's been going through all this time. Man, this sucks.

Karma strikes again

I think Rainman went on a date tonight - I'm not sure if he was kidding. I think he did, though. I'm happy for him if he did; I don't know how he's been dealing with knowing that I went on a few dates since we split. It's torture knowing he's out there again.

Also, something about us both pursuing other people makes the whole situation finalized; it's like we've both closed those doors for good.

Finally, I texted Mystery, but he was busy. I'm so screwed on this front because I know I'm much more involved in our "thing" than he is. So I'm desperately trying not to be the needy freak. Status thus far: successful.

-----

To cheer myself up, I found this on youtube. Windows is phail.

Got butterflies?

I hung out with FitRec again today. This boy is sweet, good-looking, and he's a good catch. He's intelligent, competent, and he makes me laugh.

Can anyone tell me why, then, I'm still waiting for the spark? You know... that one that is supposed to ignite the fiery passions deep in your lower being (giggity).

I think my subconscious, despite how good he is on paper, doubts that he's the one. My brain is in "find your soulmate" mode, which is bad. It's probably all that fucking Love Actually-crap* I watched over break.

So now - do I go with my instincts which have previously led me astray... or do I give FitRec another chance? How sick is this though: whenever I think about FitRec... I immediately think about Rainman instead. And Mystery.


*Homo Knows and Mr. Know-it-all apologize to any Love Actually fans out there. He actually loved the movie, watched it literally six times over holiday break, and wants to marry someone that will give him witty, English babies.

Stop being a child

I'm ticked off at Rainman. He's been ignoring me for days. I think he got upset because I went on a date the other day with FitRec. I get that he's my ex, but that's hardly an excuse to act like a petulant child.

Honestly - grow up. Talk to me; tell me when you're upset. That's what we fully functioning adults do.

The problems with numbers

I came to the conclusion today that while Numbers is a super-great guy... he's one of "those people." I use this term - "those people" - to denote people that I am interested in that are probably not looking to date. Or at least not date me.

So to update you on the characters of my life, here is the following designation. You know... for your records:

Those people: Rainman, Numbers, Providence (?), Mystery

Not those people: Fitrec, Providence (?)

**Providence is an anomaly right now. He said before that he was not outwardly looking, but might. I can't read him well enough to know**





I don't really understand people that purportedly aren't looking to date... that ask me out on dates. Really - it bamboozles the heck out of me. It's like remarking, "I'm not hungry right now," and ordering a pizza.

It annoys me, too, because I sit here trying to decode their randomness only to come to the conclusion that boys are fucking retarded. Even the 27 year old ones that I refer to more as "men" still play these weird little games.

Pro-tip: From me to you guys - make up your minds.

*pfft*

The results

Never in my life have I been conscious of the fact that someone is in many ways out of my league.

Numbers, the boy I met at Town on Friday night and went on a date-type thing today, had the amazing ability to be a superior human being while not making me feel bad about it. I am sure, however, that guys like this were put on Earth to make the rest of us feel bad about ourselves.

First, he was gorgeous. I could probably bounce quarters off his chest if I actually still carried coins (who does these days?). The man also had a flawless smile.

In spite of his being a North Carolinian, he had the Southern boy look (delicious) without the Southern twang in his English. Huge plus. And as a second-year grad student at Johns Hopkins, he was very intelligent. We sat in a tea shop in Dupont Circle called, "Teaism." Nice place - he paid before I could stop him.

There, I learned that he not only speaks three languages (French - awesome - Spanish, and Mandarin), but he has also lived in many different countries. And he was in the Peace Corps. And he's taking the Foreign Service Exam.

I'm left with only one question: why does he exist? Why did I have to meet him? Seriously? Humans like this put before me because the Universe has a cruel sense of humor. We have this terribly amazing chemistry, and he's obviously a first-class person in brains and looks. He can hold hours of conversation with ease.

Real issues: He's in Washington, and I'm in Boston. He mentioned not being ready to date people either.

Final verdict: Awesome guy. Amazing and perfect in every way. And a rare conversational-intelligent-hot combination.

Seeing him again on Friday - I must not let myself actually start to like the guy. He's far away, older, and isn't really looking for anything serious. Must remain blissfully chill and calm in the presence of perfection.

A random date

I'm off to see Numbers, the boy from the club, in Dupont Circle in a few minutes. We're having lunch somewhere.

I spent at least an hour picking out something to wear today, and I only just realized that we'll have nothing to talk about because first dates are really super awkward.

Then again, because he's here in DC, and I'm in Boston, this date doesn't really matter - it's hardly even a "date"; we just called it "lunch." And if, as I suspect, we won't see each other after today, there's no reason freaking out over it.

That's, at least, what I keep telling myself. Here's to hoping it goes well.

Fucking friends

God, Sean is pissing me off.

For someone that has spent so much time supposedly (his words, not mine) trying to move past the fact that we used to hook up, he has a funny way of getting ticked off about it still.

I've gotten the vibe from him that we can't ever be friends - he's cold when we talk online, he was cold when we went to the club, and he was cold when we were at his house/in my car. He's just... cold.

I guess he doesn't want to know me anymore. So I suppose fine - I won't push it. I'll give him three days to change his fucking attitude, and then I'm unfriending him on facebook and removing his screenname from my buddy list.

I don't need to deal with people's shit, especially when I'm making an effort to be his bud.

Sex isn't supposed to ruin everything, tard.