If God came down on Christmas Day, I know exactly what He'd say...

My bones and my skin feel the 27 years I just turned a few days ago...my heart and my brain do not. I still feel like a indecisive little girl who is having an ongoing tantrum with my emotions.

I also feel like I'm not getting my way even though I know every single act I have committed has been at my own hands. Isn't this what I wanted? My freedom? My escape?

Sometimes I don't get me. How can I expect someone else to come into my life and just "get it" as well as Dan did?

Ughhhh.

I hope I can believe myself when I say that I will only maintain communication open with Edgar for physical comfort. He brings nothing to the table except soothing my bruised ego. I know there will be nothing else. He chased me down not too long ago--

Edgar: Hey someone's b-day is coming up. I wonder what to get them?
me: Hahaha....I want what I got last year.
Edgar: Well where r u?
me: Nowhere near u I'm afraid. I'm at the movies in Woodland Hills. Won't be in Whittier for like another hour.
Edgar: Well, let me know.
me: For tonight? Or some other night? I'm leaving the Valley.
Edgar: Tonight.
me: Okay, call u when I hit East L.A.

I won't try to romanticize it. We all know the drill, both he and I. It all feels automatic now. We meet at the parking lot of the Starbucks near my house. I slip into his car. We make idle chit chat. I giggle like a moron. He laughs at himself. He pretends not to know how to drive to the darkened street behind the park on Bexley, which I feel we've now been to HUNDREDS of times. I direct him anyway. We make sure not to stop near a street lamp. I take a deep breath and my mind races. He looks at me with those stupid eyes. He sneaks a hand into my pants and I succumb to his clumsy, cold fingers. Once it passes, we greedily move on to him at my hoarse, whispered command. He obediently unzips his jeans. I bow my head. He switches the music. "Wait, wait..." he says and on comes a remix of Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence." I slowly smile...we've done it previously to this song, he remembered? I bury my face in his lap while he pushes on the back of my head. Faster than I expect he finishes, gasping and breathing hard like he's been running a marathon. Strange, slightly uncomfortable conversation follows until he gets a call from his brother or whoever...he drives me back to my car and I get out. We say goodnight, kiss like drowning lovers and go our separate ways. Done. Nothing too different, pretty much the same.

The only thing I liked was the sight of my right hand pressed against his driver side window...he reached for it and we locked fingers. Beautiful. But too brief. I pulled away...he doesn't mean it.

Dan and I are supposed to meet on the 26th to exchange Christmas presents. I have a hunch I'll be a lot happier during that.

Speaking of which, I mailed Alfonso a Christmas card a few days ago. If I hear no response, he's dead to me. I have to let him go.

It seems I have a lot of things to "let go" before the New Year.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart....

I think the holidays are making me more sentimental...

Or is it the fact that I’m turning 27 in about 8 days and I’m feeling super reflective..?

And then there’s the approaching New Year which now seems rife with change and new beginnings...

Most of the weekend was spent in the company of Dan. He maneuvered himself well around my co-workers on Friday at my company’s Christmas party and we had a great time drinking like crazy. Saturday was even more fun as we did some light holiday shopping and enjoyed a great concert at the Gibson. I remember the pang of having to say goodnight and not being able to fall asleep next to each other. How could I miss something I used to loathe? Nothing ever makes sense anymore...

We keep making plans to hang out...and I won’t lie; I really do look forward to them. I feel like giving him up made me realize I shouldn’t have done that in the first place. It’s like drowning in guilt wasn’t enough...now I get to drown in regret.

Fitting punishment, I suppose.

It’s a shame because we really look good together...




this last one was taken at Dan's company Christmas party...his iPhone made us look so much more tanner.

***

Okay, so I said I was over Alfonso which meant I would stop posting every little stupid thing about him...and for a minute there I thought he was dead since he had ceased commenting and posting on FB for like the past 3 months. But thank goodness for his growing crop of spirited female friends who keep wondering why he’s been silent. It sounds like he has since left his job as a mental health associate at Arbour Hospital and is now working elsewhere. Where? I have no clue. But times can’t be too tough since a girl named Amy (blah!) has posted pictures of him from her “Wine and Cheese” party. He looks amazing.



Of course I cropped out the stupid girl he’s smiling at...cuz I’m horribly jealous and insecure like that.

Let it be known I do not like wine or the fancy cheeses that go with wine. But I would sit there and stuff my face in a $200 dress if it made him happy. No, I would crawl on my hands and knees from here to Boston just so I could lick the stinky French cheese off his fingertips and taste the sour wine off his lips. I would swallow the most foul smelling brie cheese and wash it down with the world’s equally most stale, cheap wine if it meant he’d look at me like that.

Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating.

I think I’m going to mail him a Christmas/birthday card. I think I’m going to tell him everything. I think I’m going to embarrass myself horribly. Cheers!

The road to you is paved right through with bloody good intentions...

It’s very strange how this whole dating situation with Dan is like reverse psychology. The more I told myself to stay away, the more I wanted to be around him. It’s like my brain says DON’T TEXT HIM then my heart says BUT YOU STILL LOVE HIM and then my vagina says DUDE, YOU SHOULD FUCK.

Dan and I get along a whole lot better now that we’re broken up. No fighting, no squabbling about stupid things, no boredom, just fun and reckless abandon. It’s like the moment we separated, the air cleared up and I no longer hated him. How can separation fix things?

Well, it doesn’t.

Being apart allows us not to deal with the important, nitty-gritty adult stuff that makes a couple stronger. I think now we’re just really goofing off with each other, wasting time and proactively not evolving into a stronger unit.

Heh. I said unit.

I think sticking to the superficial, fun stuff is what will allow me to keep him as just a “friend with benefits.” Though I am afraid the more I scream at myself silently to keep him as a hook up, the more I will grow to miss him as a boyfriend. We’re already treading in relationship territory again. More on that later...but first a message from your favorite old school punkers...

Dead Kennedy’s on Friday night was fucking sick. Glad my best friend Lauren could come and join me. I think I fell in love with punk music again.

I sucked down about 4 overpriced alcoholic drinks. Somewhere toward the end of my last Cap Codder and fending off perverted old geezers, I rediscovered my cell phone and did what I do best--

Me: The Dead Kennedys have been non-stop insanity...you missed a helluva show.
Edgar: I am sitting in the lib. Fuck this sucks. So tired, bet the show rocked.
Me: Dude, “Viva Las Vegas” cover...my God. This is unreal.
Edgar: Who did you go with?
Me: Lauren was my date. Just launched into “Holiday in Cambodia” Fuckkk.
Edgar: Well, I am living vicarious through you right now.
Me: Excellent. I like that. Good luck with finals!!!

Why is it that I can only text him with courage when I’m drunk? This is why my phone needs to be confiscated after 3+ drinks. I am not kidding.

So, Dan and I swiftly drifted back into familiar waters this past week. Saturday night he and I went to see comedian Daniel Tosh. We had dinner at Tommy’s, laughed our asses off during Tosh’s set, made out in my car and then proceeded to hook up. Plenty of third base action, which is never unwelcome. Sigh!

You’d think we’d stop there...but then I got all dolled up and joined Dan at his company’s annual Christmas party in Malibu. One weird thing that happened: as I was frantically getting ready, I found a wallet sized photo in one of my shoe boxes of Dan and I at our winter formal back in high school. We were so skinny back then! I showed it him and he just laughed, fondly remembering when he was 17 years old and about a hundred pounds lighter. The party was boring as all shit and I though I had asked Dan to not to introduce me as his “friend” he never made an effort to introduce me at all. I ended up having to shake everyone’s hand and tell them my name. Dan just kind of stood there, mute. That pretty much sums up our relationship, if you think about it.

Dan will be my date this Friday night for my company’s Christmas party. You can be damn sure I will do a far better job at re-introducing him to all my co-workers. He and I are also off to see a bunch of cool bands at KROQ’s Almost Acoustic Christmas this coming Saturday night. Dating him post break-up is starting to sound like an addiction.

I guess that’s good, right? Get over one person by getting under another...but can it be the same person?!?

Simple as this: I'm in love with the risk. I know what I've done, but tell me what did I miss?

I try to be good, I really do. But temptation has my cell number permanently emblazoned in his back pocket.

My life is in a giant upheaval at the moment. My family has decided to move out of my beloved Whittier and move closer to Downtown and East L.A. We have found a spacious and well-priced apartment in the city of Montebello. I am very glad to be moving closer to my job and all of my friends. I am not glad that I now have to quickly find a home for my two cats Susie and Blackie. (sigh) But such is life, right? There have been many tears shed and nerves put on edge with this move; some of us don’t want to leave and some of us do. We should know this week if we got the apartment and then begin to move out of Whittier within the next two weeks. This might put a damper on my birthday celebrations. Argh.

I was curled up in my warm blankets, deep in thought about the future of my life and how this big change was going to affect it. I was also doing my best to fend off the early winter cold when I hear my phone go off at exactly 11:11 pm. Reluctantly, I peeled myself out of bed and glanced at the caller ID.

Edgar. Holy motherfucker.

11:11 is a special hour for me: I always make a wish when I see it. I swear sometimes the way things happen, it’s like I will them to occur this way. I didn’t wish for this, though.

My motto lately has been “don’t do it.” Don’t text Danny so much anymore and set up dates and especially don’t pick up the phone when Edgar calls you. I could hear my friends screaming at me, “DON’T MAKE YOURSELF AVAILABLE TO HIM!!!” My fingers ached to reject his call. I could feel my thumb hovering over the “ignore” button.

But I’m weak. I lack will power. I am devoid of self-restraint. There I was, bleary eyed and in my pajamas. All I wanted was to drift off to sleep but now here’s Edgar at 11 o’clock at night and suddenly I can smell his cologne and feel his fingers gripping on my waist.

I pick up. Ugh.

Before I can even start kicking myself for being so irresolute, I dive into a pleasant conversation with the boy wonder of law school. He asks how I’m doing and what’s going on in my life, so naturally I tell him about the move to Montebello. He asks exactly what streets and I reply, “Washington and Greenwood” to which he responds with a hint of surprise, “Oh very nice. I know exactly where that is.” He lives in Commerce which is one of the adjacent cities. I have unknowingly encroached even further into his territory. Score.

I like to keep him on his toes, keep him guessing what I’ll say next. I am blunt and inquire as to what I owe this phone call so late at night. He feigns like he’s offended or something: “What? A guy can’t just call a pretty girl he likes? I’ve just been thinking about you and I wanted to hear your voice.” Oh, he knows how to pour it on; he knows EXACTLY what to say to keep me on the line. I swallow each line, wholesale. Suddenly, I'm a glutton for compliments. I crave to hear him say more lovely things about me. Is it any wonder I can’t stop myself from taking his calls? I throw another volley and say I’ve been thinking about him, too. I’ve now been reduced into a starry-eyed teenager. Each string of pretty words (they’re just words, right??) softens my demeanor. I hate him so much.

It’s not long before we start heavily flirting and he asks me what I want for my birthday/Christmas. I lay it on thick and coquettishly reply that I want what he got me last year. He laughs and wonders out loud what that was exactly, “Please tell me. I’m getting older and more feeble-minded; remind me: what exactly did I get for you last year? I believe you had a very specific request.” I feel myself laughing and shivering from the cold in my living room at the same time. We both know what it was: something to the effect of “you, me, a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and my bed.” We take a stroll down memory lane and relive that cold December night last year when we drank whiskey and fucked like fiends to stay warm. “How many times did we go for it that night?” he asks and I can practically see the smile across his face. I shrug and look away even though I’m on the phone, like I can feel him staring at me, “Oh I don’t know...one...two...three times?” We go further and further into obscene detail, which prompts him to blurt out that he wishes he could fuck me right now. “I remember the last time I saw you. Oh man…” he trails off as I giggle in anticipation to what he will say. “Wasn’t that last month? The night my car got towed and I met Greg Graffin?” I press on, acting like I have no idea what we did that night. He takes the bait and continues on: “That’s it. That’s the night you left with me to say ‘goodnight’ and were gone for like 2 hours” he says with a soft laugh. Ahhh memories.

We loosely make plans to see each other after his finals are done, which should be around the weekend of December 18th. I know I’ll be busy moving and trying to celebrate earlier in the evening with my friends, so I purposely don’t set a thing in stone with him. Besides, he’s always the first to cancel, so I won’t even get excited that he’ll be a true man to his word. He’s a lawyer in training right? Always a liar and always persuasive. He wants to know exactly what I will do to him when I see him in a couple of weeks. I pretend to be shy about it but don’t dare get too graphic for fear someone at my house might hear me. “I want to hear you say it. Come on, make me work for it” he murmurs into the phone. I feel my face flush and softly tell him I will definitely break him in half.

We end our conversation on a bit of a weird note. At one point he says that one day he’ll be coming to me, complaining about his wife and wanting to see me. I wonder if this is a blatant reference to my time spent with him whilst cheating on Danny. I tell him that’s not necessary, that I would never let him make that same kind of mistake. I counter with the fact that we could easily stop all this nonsense about being with other people by just finally dating each other exclusively and being together as a couple. I can already hear shades of hesitation over the phone and he quickly retorts, “Hey if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it right? Isn’t that what we’ve always said?” I agree but suggest that maybe we should upgrade the model and give it a try. We say goodnight soon after and I wish him luck with his finals. He wishes me luck with the move and that’s that.

I don’t get why he acts like he doesn’t want more to do with me, like he isn’t a typical Mexican American boy with a jealous streak. Earlier in the conversation I had joked that I like to keep my friends “happy” as an oblique reference to all the times I’ve gone down on him. He was quick to ask in a half kidding/half serious way whether he should be worried or not that I had used “friend” in the plural sense. I told him there was no need for concern but felt silly for even deeming that with an answer. Hmmm. He also confessed he hoped no other guy would come along and sweep me off my feet. Yup, your average Mexican American boy with a jealous streak and an insecurity that he masks with bravado and wit. He could make his life so much easier but he refuses. I just can’t help him with that. We’re always on two different levels which can only be evened out with feverish hook ups in the middle of the night.

There was no time to sit around and day dream about Edgar at work. I got a call from Dan, not on my cell phone but at my direct line at work. I picked up my office phone and was greeted with a “Hey negro!” Yup, that’s one of Dan’s many odd (and offensive) terms of endearment for me. My favorite is still Chicken McNigger. I ask him what’s going on and he says that his two friends from work (Mike and John) are going to see Tron in 3-D and since they’re taking dates, he wanted to know if I could go with him. Ooooh, a triple date!

Me: Ah, okay. Sure. I’ll go with you so that you’re not the lonely Mr.Cherry.
Dan: Yes well, thank you.
Me: See? There I am saving your social status again.
Dan: Always. Okay, see you on the 17th.
Me: Sure. Just let me know how much I owe you for the movie ticket.
Dan: Nah, don’t worry about it. I got it.
Me: Awwww...you are quite the honey-dripper. See ya.
Dan: Bye.

I’ve got quite the December to remember coming up. BRING IT ON!

There's not enough "fuck you" in the world....

The speed dating thing was a bust. I won't get into details but it's enough to know that not a single person showed up besides me and my friend Reina. We have a strong suspicion the Date & Dash people are a scam and we have already asked our credit card companies to refund our money.

I'm not undateable, right?

Reina and I joked that this is God's way of telling us the best we can do is our respective crummy ex-boyfriends.

Ughhhh. What a blow to my self-esteem this is.

I want to crawl into a hole and die. Melodramatic, yes. But the feeling is warranted. Argh, this sucks so much ass.

This Thanksgiving I will be eating my feelings.

I got society's blood running down my face...

They say the best revenge is to live well.

I am starting to believe that the best revenge is being an amazing lay.

Yeah, I was wrong for complaining about Dan the entire time we lived together and treating him like utter crap...some of it he deserved, some of it he didn't...

But...goddammit, did he have to be so good at boning?

I AM RUINED. I am ruined for every other guy who dates me after him. Many have tried, but none have rivaled his talents.

***

So Dan calls me last week to tell me we FINALLY got our rebate check from AT&T...each of us get $150! I need to come over and cash it since it's in my name. I think it's going to be just another errand but I get a text from Dan that tells me it's going to be much more fun--

Dan: We have the house to ourselves if you wanna get freaky.
Me: You know I'm down!! :)

So I sneak over Saturday night and we fuck around for a good while, which then results in a mind-blowing orgasm that made me laugh in hysterics for the entire duration. Yup...uncontrollable shrieking laughter. It was amazing!! AMAZING, I TELL YOU!

We cash the check, collect our money, hit up 7-11 for some tasty snacks and watch the rest of the Kings vs. Islanders hockey game. Kings end up winning 5-1. We'd like to think our epic boning made that happen.

I am falling ever deeper into the rabbit hole with ol' Danny boy. We are going to be each other's dates for our respective office Christmas parties. I am also taking him to KROQ's Acoustic Christmas if I (God-willing) get tickets. We've got Daniel Tosh's comedy show on Dec. 4th and my birthday celebrations following that.

For two people that broke up, we sure do spend a lot of time together.

I guess the bitterness didn't have to take long to wash itself from our mouths.

I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation...

You know what really bugs me? When I don't hear from Julio in months and months and then all of a sudden, out of the blue, he just posts something idiotic on my Facebook wall....

For example, he and I have had a long-standing feud about who is a better late night talk show host: Conan O'Brien or Jay Leno. I, naturally, am a huge fan of Conan and for some inexplicable reason, he likes Jay. The arguments are always in good fun and we never come to a solid conclusion.

Well, he took the opportunity to fuck with me a few days ago and I got very annoyed. We went our usual 6 or 7 rounds on Facebook before I just quit and wrote him an angry message.

me: Also, does this tactic of just coming out of nowhere and arguing with girls work at all? Does this get you chicks? Because I find it incredibly disheartening. Don't alienate your friends. Don't be the boy that pulls on girls hairs just to get a reaction out of them. Be nice. I know you have it in you. :)

Julio: Alienate my friends?? [...], I am sorry, I meant the comment as a total joke, because of the back and forth banter we have had over the past about you liking Conan and me liking Leno. It was not intended for you to take it the wrong way, or for you to think I am insulting or making any kind of argument. Sorry I won't do that again.

Yep, I guess he got caught in the wrong spoke of my menstrual cycle....I would post the conversation we had beforehand on here but it's disappeared off my FB wall...guess Julio removed his post out of embarrassment or something.

I normally don't snap on people like that, much less a guy I've gone out with...but I was just so stressed at work and at home that I finally had to let it out on someone. I read back my message and immediately felt remorse for writing it. I wish I could be more disconnected from my emotions...but I'm not...so of course I sucked it up and wrote a response:

me: Hey...thanks. I really do appreciate it. I feel like the last couple of weeks have been taking a total shit on me and I'm sorry if I lashed out at you.

He never responded back...I didn't expect him to.

Am I too nice sometimes? Anger always feels like a foreign emotion to me...like I have to hide it from everyone. I feel like I can never be visibly upset. That can't be right.

I'm in the mood.....get ready.....

Ahhh, the swirling, drunken antics of Halloween....why can't we dress up in costume and drink huge amounts of liquor all the time?!?!

The weekend came in 2 parts.

Friday night: I went out to a nightclub with my friend Reina and her hugely overweight friend Charlene. I was decked out in my flirty cheerleader outfit and was pleased to see there were no other girls dressed up in my costume. I didn't drink at all, save for a sip from Reina and Charlene's drinks. I parked my butt on the dance floor and partied the night away. I danced with several guys in costume but couldn't keep my eyes off this one hot firefighter guy near the bar. I kept meaning to go over and approach him since he wasn't dancing but my fear got the best of me. At one point, this clumsy dude (not in costume mind you!) asked me to dance with him. I was bored so I went for it. I couldn't tell if he was white or just a light-skinned Mexican. He kept wanting me to drink his beer and was man-handling me while we were dancing. That just made me increasingly upset. Then he tried to kiss me but I dodged him like a ninja. What a dumb-ass. I decided to join my friends again and leave this weirdo. He and his friends tried to get us to dance with them again later in the night but we weren't interested. *sigh* Clubs are NOT the place to find quality guys. It's like the bottom of the hormone-soaked barrel.

Reina made some very good points about my current love woes. She's very skilled at reducing them to short, little mantras that I can repeat to myself.

About Danny: "Stop living in the past."
About Edgar: "He's just not that into you..."
About Julio: "He's scared of strong women."

So she and I arranged to go to "Date and Dash" on the 18th. I am nervous all around! I've never been speed dating so this will be a great, new experience. I hope we meet some quality guys that we can date and not just leave with the overwhelming urge to dash.

Saturday night was the night of my epic Halloween party. I was pretty dead certain that Dan (after a long text conversation) wasn't coming since he refused to take the bus or borrow his parent's car. I still maintained hope that Edgar might pop in at the end. I drowned my hopes and sorrows in drink after drink....then shot after shot. My friends kept me in great spirits and I was glad to see them all in hilarious costumes.

The hottest guy in high school (and also one of the nicest!), Nick Moreno showed up at my party. He came, as usual, with a harem full of girls. Unfortunately, one of them was his girlfriend Evelyn. He did not escape scrutiny and the consensus was that yet again, Nick likes to date unimpressive-looking girls. My friend Sandra told me that I should take it as a compliment that Nick hasn't asked me out yet: I'm obviously not frumpy enough for him! Hahaha! But yeah, I value our friendship and wouldn't want to spoil that by being yet another notch on his belt. Besides, it would be just too weird hooking up with Nick after I've seen him go through dozens of girls over the years. I know his history, I know his tendencies, I watched the guy cheat on a girlfriend back in 2006...I just don't think so.

Still...it would be interesting to kiss a guy with a lip piercing...hmmm...

My phone had to be constantly hidden from me to avoid embarrassing, drunken text conversations. With much stealth and inebriated forethought, I was able to squeeze in a last ditch effort to find out if stupid Edgar would show up.

me: Are u coming tonite?
Edgar: I am wit my study group. I will hit u up when I am done.

I never did hear from him. Asshole.

My consolation prize: having my friend Santana confess that he had a crush on me in high school...and then blurting out loudly that he still liked me. I should've known that was coming...he was the ONLY guy who had RSVP'ed yes on my invitation. Santana then spoiled any chance of advancing with me by drunkenly proclaiming he had AIDS and smoked crystal meth. As suspected, none of those things were true. I confronted him a few days later on Facebook and he was beyond mortified. He had no clue why he said ANY of those things. I didn't bother to find out if the long-standing crush on me was true or not...I'll just pretend it was all an alcohol-fueled word vomit. I guess even guys aren't immune from saying stupid shit while drunk.

Best part of Halloween? Seeing all the crazy pictures the next morning on Facebook. Pity that my exes don't feel like dressing up...lame, lame, lame.

Edgar with one of his "study group" partners...


Thankfully she's too young to be Paul's actual girlfriend...


I did end up meeting with Dan on Thursday night for the Sublime concert at the San Manuel Indian gaming casino...I picked him up at work and we drove non-stop in horrendous traffic to the Indian reservation. I was so glad he didn't fall asleep on the car ride over and that he picked up the tab at dinner. Dating him with no strings attached feels far superior than before when all we ever did was go through the motions and piss each other off. It felt good to hug, kiss and cuddle. I miss that physical affection and wish I didn't have to go so long without it. At one point, I did get frisky during "Garden Grove" and regretted the fact that we didn't get a room at the casino for the night. (sigh) Oh well.

I survived Halloween. Autumn is in full swing. Let's hope things pick up. I need to wean myself off of Dan. I need to erase Edgar's number off my phone. Reina was my voice of reason last night at dinner. She asked if it hurt my feelings that she told me that Ed was "just not that into me." I told her no...that it was actually a very sobering thing to say. I need to work on my will power.

I need to understand that I deserve better than borrowed time and temporary emotions.

I know there’s nowhere to go, so I’ll just stay here instead...

My best laid plans…they never pan out, do they?

Friday night I stopped by Dan’s house to give him my half of the cell phone payment. It had been predetermined that we’d get it on, since he was home alone. But as soon as I walked into his room, he said it’d be a bad idea since he was all smelly and sweaty from work. I told him repeatedly I didn’t care (come on, I’m pretty used to all his weird body odors) but he refused and said we should try some other time. I glanced at my watch and knew I was already running late in meeting up with my friends for Jackass 3-D and dinner. So I told him since we were no longer going to have sex, his punishment would be a serious talk with me. Dan looks down at his dog Ruby and says to her: “Oh no Ruby….sounds like we’re in trouble.”

I laughed and told him he wasn’t in any sort of trouble but I did want to re-examine what was going on between us. I told him I really enjoyed being with him but that it felt weird we weren’t together. I suggested seeing a counselor to mediate our problems and possibly give our relationship a second try. I got it all out: that I enjoy spending time with him and wish things were more like the night at the Highlands, no fights, no resentment…just fun. I told him I still loved him very much and think about him often enough that it makes me sad to know we have to sneak around to hide ourselves. Why should we have to keep our time together secret? Is this really what he wants? I was honest and told him he isn’t one of “those” kind of guys….he’s actually a very sweet person and skulking around doesn’t fit his personality.

He heard me out until I had vented the entire speech and then paused to think. I was wondering what he’d say. His answer was not what I was hoping for. He said he enjoyed the night out for Ana’s birthday because he felt no pressure to impress anyone and it reminded him so much of high school. He said he’d like to continue to explore that type of relationship with me. He doesn’t think seeing a therapist or counselor will help much because we’re both unwilling to change and he doesn’t want to be “that” couple. Deep down inside, I knew he was right. I know that inside of me…I am just as stubborn as he is and I live too much of an uncompromising lifestyle.

I told him the offer still stands if he wants us to get help and work out our issues. But in the meantime, I guess we’re in the realm of friends with benefits. At least in this world, we don’t hate each other and fight like dogs.

He says he still has feelings for me….I wonder where this will all lead? Like I said, it can’t be good…someone’s going to get hurt and that’s probably going to be me. I confessed that I’ve tried being the “thing on the side” girl before and it sucks. You get attached, you hope for more and in the end, you’re just disappointed. I think that’s yet another ongoing theme in my love life.

I think I just want to drop it with Dan and have fun. I miss the boy he used to be and now that we’re just messing around, he is more like that boy I met in high school. Yes, I recognize it’s pretty destructive and we’re living in the past…but it works. I will do my best to mentally prepare myself for the day Dan gets a new girlfriend but secretly I hope ( I PRAY TO GOD) that it will be me who finally finds that awesome guy of my dreams. Maybe I’ll finally be happy without having to sneak around, lie, cheat, beg or waste my time waiting.

On a sort of related note, I am hosting a Halloween party at my house on October 30th. I have invited all of my friends which do include both Dan and Edgar. I think Danny said he’d try to make it but I don’t know how he’s going to get to my place without a car. Edgar put himself down as a solid “maybe” according to the invitation on FB. It would make my life easier if just one or the other would show up. Or neither would show up. But what if they both do? Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.


Also…also…

I promise to get over Alfonso. Immediately. I will not stare at pictures of him looking cute on Facebook and beat myself up over nothing. I will not feel any more pangs of regret or waves of wistful longing….which then turn into a weird nausea of failure. I think that’s called a broken heart.

I don’t even know what I miss about him. I really don’t know…and that bugs me.

You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream...

Old habits die hard.

That is all.

No, really….I should expand.

I know better than to mess around with Dan and open up old feelings but I can’t seem to take my own advice. This has been an ongoing theme for the last few years. Oh well. Maybe someday I will learn.

For the last month or so, Dan and I have been playing around with the idea of hooking up again on the side but inevitably something would get in the way….either, some unforeseen circumstance or my own conscience. Saturday afternoon, after many explicit text message conversations (that are, by the way, far too filthy to re-post here), we met up and got a motel room in Santa Fe Springs.

It was fun being with him again! As soon as we walked into the room, I kicked off my sandals and stretched. Dan grabbed me from the waist and picked me up. We fell backwards onto the big bed and well, you can imagine the rest. I had forgotten what it was like to spend the day with him and have a good time, devoid of any bickering or petty squabbling. It was a miracle that we didn’t have one single fight. I kept expecting something to go wrong, but was relieved when it never did.

After fucking like rabbits, we cleaned up and watched a little bit of “Taken” on HBO. Then we drove to my house and I got my hair done (courtesy of my niece Valerie) while Dan clipped my new kitten’s claws. Nobody at my house thought it was unusual to see Danny again. Everyone (with the exception of my mom) has always liked him. It also helps that I’ve never said a bad word about him. We collected our stuff and took off to have an early dinner and ice cream. Our friend Reina had invited me to Hollywood to help her celebrate her birthday at the Highlands Nightclub. I asked Dan to come along as my date. He agreed and after I got ready at the motel, we drove back to his parents’ house so he could get dressed. Dan’s dad was home and didn’t act weird when he saw me. Sometimes I wonder if everyone else notices that things have changed and we’ve broken up. Hmmm.

Drinks and dancing at the Highlands was so much fun. Reina had reserved a room at the Renaissance Hotel so we could pre-game before heading down to the club. Dan handled himself well amongst all the old and new friends in the group. I am certain he made a good impression, even though he isn’t a “new” guy in my life.

We got pretty hammered and danced all night long. My feet were killing me by the end of the night. Dan took a few pictures of us on his iPhone:





There is a picture of my cleavage as Dan was having a blast looking down my dress but I will pass on posting that one.

So now I am pretty sure I don’t know what’s going on between us. We’ve entered a weird gray area. I chickened out and never had the “talk” with him about all this. (sigh) Now I am really playing with fire. I know better than to rely on nostalgia to guide my heart.

WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING!?!?

This cannot end well.

I will carry you home like a bride from the wreckage....

Friday night I’m watching the Social Network at a movie theater in Cerritos. As soon as the credits start rolling at the end of the film I turn my phone back on. Lo and behold, I’m met with a helluva surprise:

On my phone sits a text message from Dan and a voice mail from Edgar.

Dan is in Vegas at the moment, preparing to see the Los Angeles Kings go up against the Colorado Avalanche at the annual Frozen Fury hockey game at the MGM Grand. I have attended this annual game with him for the past three years and this is the first time I have not gone.

Dan: You and I need to come to Las Vegas and stay at the signature suites at the MGM. Frakken amazing.

I don’t even know how to reply….I wonder sometimes if he realizes I am now his ex-girlfriend. Maybe I should re-think getting back with him. I think he’s convinced we still are. (sigh sigh sigh)

And now onto the nervous task of listening to Edgar’s voice mail:

Hey […] it’s me Edgar. I’m just calling you back after months –uh, after weeks and weeks of just missing your messages. I wasn’t ignoring you; believe it or not I wasn’t ignoring you. I was actually stuck in that wonderful, wonderful law school library which I fucking hate and which I’m leaving right now. I wanna see you tonight, but -uh if you’re busy, you’re busy. So I guess I’ll talk to you later. Take it easy. Bye.

I see that he called me around 11 pm and it is now 12:50 a.m. I gulp, take a deep breath, dial him back and squeeze my eyes shut as I hear his line ring and ring and ring.

It goes to voice mail, of course. I leave him a quick message where I joke around that we are eternally missing each other and that he must be toying with me on purpose. I shoot him a text and hope for the best:

Me: You and I are a series of missed connections…it’s almost comical, really. Call me :)

The drive home is fraught with wildly irrational scenarios of what is going on with him. We’ve been exchanging comments on FB for weeks now and all his status updates have been about how busy he is with law school. I’m a little impressed he would seek me out so close to the start of his midterms. Sounds like he needs a little oral fixation to clear his mind….

I get home and crawl into bed, not at all shocked that he never got back to me. I’m sure he grew tired of waiting for me while I was at the movies and fell asleep. I turn out the light but not before shooting him one last desperate text:

Me: Going to bed now. I’m available tomorrow night for a study break….or two. If I don’t hear from you, we’ll just add another to the loss column.

That’s actually a lie. I did have plans the following night which ended up costing me a pretty penny. I showed up at Book Soup in West Hollywood to attend a book signing for author, Bad Religion lead singer, UCLA biology professor and all-around legendary punk icon Greg Graffin. I got to meet him and he signed my copy of his latest book “Anarchy Evolution” and a copy of Bad Religion’s brand-new album “The Dissent of Man.” He even posed for pictures! Well, I wandered out of the book store (dazed and in awe of what had happened!) just in time to see my car get towed. Apparently, I had parked in a restricted area. Oh well, a $10 cab ride and $160 tow fee later, I had my trusty Toyota Corolla back. To add insult to injury, the city of Los Angeles had the good sense to slap a $52 parking ticket to my windshield. After coming home and getting scolded by my mom about the parking ticket, I headed to Montebello to hang out with my friends Sandy and Mayra for some much needed girl time.

The girls did their best to take my mind off the whole towing situation with pizza, candy, booze, Dorito’s, paper pirate hats and Halloween decorations to get the in the spirit of the month. We were in the middle of some hilarious conversation when I hear my phone go off. It’s Edgar. I stare at the caller ID light up with his name and inhale sharply. I turn to my friends and say, “Uhhh sorry, I gotta take this. It’s my ex-boyfriend.” The girls both smile at me and start chattering about this interesting turn of events as I step outside into the cold, crisp October night (still wearing the paper pirate hat, mind you) and answer.

Edgar and I have our usual awkward conversation where we beat around the bush about wanting so bad to see each other. I always can tell he wants to come over but is afraid of sounding pushy or like he wants it more than me. I’m always the one with the least amount of patience that capitulates and insist he drive over. I give him directions to Mayra’s house and wait for him to show up.

I let my friends know what’s going down for the night and they fiendishly insist he come inside for some pizza and beer. I agree and wonder how he’ll act in front of my friends. He hasn’t had to face a pack of my girlfriends in years. Not since that fateful night at the Starbucks in the spring of 2006…..

Almost exactly 20 minutes later he’s nearing Mayra’s house. I remove the pirate hat and step out into the sidewalk to flag him down. Apparently I gave him directions for someone coming the opposite way and he has to make a few U-turns to get to me. I smirk when he refers to making a U-turn as “busting a bitch.” Gotta love that East L.A. slang.

I see his Solara pull up slowly and walk up to his passenger side window. I ask he roll down the window and peek my head in. Delightfully, I can smell the familiar scent of his cologne. He looks so good just sitting there with his hands on the steering wheel, illuminated only by the light of all the gadgets on his car’s dashboard. “Park your car. My friends are requesting your presence inside.” He laughs and asks if that’s so. “Is there anyone that I might know in there?” he asks with a hint of caution. I shake my head, “Nope. They both went to parochial school. You don’t know them. Come on inside. I’ll make it up to you later.” He makes a happy noise, dutifully parks and follows me inside but not before giving me a big hug. I lovingly kiss his right cheek and tell him I missed him. He smiles and grabs my hand so I can lead him inside. Before we open the door, we can hear the girls laughing loudly. “Oh no….I hear cackling. Should I be worried?” he jokingly asks. I turn back to him and squeeze his hand, “You should be afraid. Very afraid. They’re gonna size you up.”

I slowly open the door and ask everyone inside if they’ve got their clothes on. Sandy laughs and makes a joke about all of us being naked. So introductions are made, laughter soon resumes as we start talking and joking around. At first Edgar looks nervous as he stands there with his hands in his pockets, wearing a black Alkaline Trio shirt and jeans but soon, he starts warming up and opens up to everyone. He prefers to stay standing since he’s been sitting in the law school library all week. I stand next to him and immediately start making cracks about how much of nerd he’s become lately and how he’s become a bit of a studious hermit. He keeps a perpetual grin on his face as he describes how grueling the coursework is but how he has managed to keep his sanity. He thanks us girls profusely for being a distraction from the boring world of torts, case briefings and in-class debates about court rulings. I love how easily he is able to maintain the conversation with all of us girls and keep all of us laughing. I wish I could remember all the things we were cracking up about….suffice to say, my friends were impressed. At one point, he brought up some bit from comedian Azis Ansari and we both started reciting it word for word. I asked if he was going to see him perform next month and he lamented that tickets were too expensive. I shake my head and said there’s no way they can be that expensive and that he should leave the ticket buying to an “expert” like me. I said I could get us a pair for cheap. He gives me a knowing smile and says he’ll go with me if I can pull it off. I stop for a second and ask the girls if he just asked me out on a date. Edgar’s face lights up and he reasons that since I’m a Berkeley graduate, I must be a pro-feminist, independent woman and far be it for him to stand in my way. “Well played, Cruz!” I tell him as I playfully try to kick him. Further on, he tells us he’s looking forward to telling his study group that he spent the weekend surrounded by girls. “You should tell them you were hanging out with three broads” I suggest to which he laughs and repeats back to himself. “Yeah, I’m gonna say it just like that….three broads” he says and I quickly tell him he better cite me as a source for that comment. He shakes his head and jokingly refuses. “Well, then that’s theft. My comment is intellectual property!” I say in mock outrage. He gives me another killer smile and says “No, it’s not. You haven’t trademarked it.” I giggle and tell him I shouldn’t use legal terms in front of him any longer, he’s got me beat there.

Soon the conversation dies down and we notice it’s getting late. Edgar shakes each girl’s hand and thanks them for a lovely evening. He turns to me and asks, “Are you ready?” I nod and say I’ll walk him out to his car. I get in and he drives half a block up so that we're out of the way of passing motorists.

Inside the car, I thank him for being so great with my friends and making them laugh. He shrugs and says it’s no big deal, that he doesn’t mind being polite and charming when the situation calls for it. I kiss him passionately on the mouth and he returns the favor. He kisses my neck and asks if I’ve missed him. I sigh and say of course I have. "Have you been thinking about me?” he whispers as I run my lips across his neck and ear. I giggle and say yes, of course: silly boy, always needing reassurance. I ask him if he’s been thinking about me, to which he replies “All the time.” I pull off my shirt and fling it into the backseat. He reaches behind my back to start and undo my bra. He takes his time while I softly cheer him on: “Come on…you got it…go, go go!” He shakes his head and laughs there in the dark and manages to pull it off with minimal trouble. He immediately buries his face in my chest and sucks on each one so hard, it’s almost painful. I have to keep whispering for him to go easy on me. The windows start steaming. I’m losing every little bit of control. And he’s just so fucking excited; he lets me feel his erection and my mind is racing. Edgar has me recline in the passenger seat and he reaches into my jeans. I know exactly where he’s headed and undo my zipper and slip my jeans past my knees. I pull my panties down and he works me for a long while, getting me so close I could scream. I hear my fingernails claw the passenger door as I get incredibly close. He doesn’t break eye contact as he rubs that stubborn little spot, propelling me toward a very abrupt and harsh orgasm. They always feel this way with him. I beg him to not stop, to just wrench them out of me. And I finally do come, looking up through his car’s moon roof at the dark night sky and branches of a nearby tree. It’s insane. I hear myself gasping and crying out. As soon as I can breathe again, I put my bra back on and beg him to let me suck him off. He doesn’t even protest just unzips his pants and off we go.

I think by now I am a total pro at getting him to come. Or it's just been so long that he's incredibly sensitive? I'll never really know. But I can tell when he's about to...it's fun to hear my own muffled cries as my face is buried in his lap. I sometimes forget to breathe which inevitably leaves me dizzy. He keeps saying he wants to fuck me so hard. And all I can do is moan "mmm-hmm" in the affirmative. And then I feel it in the back of my throat, he's groaning and then it's like choked breaths...and he's gasping "Okay, there it is...there it is..." and he groans again. Suddenly, the familiar taste of salty, hot semen fills my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow, hoping it's all done. I slowly draw him out of my mouth and ask with my numbed mouth, "All done?" He shakes his head and slumps back in the driver's seat, "Yeah...yeah..."

We stop to rest and mull over what just happened. It's like our own brand of pillow talk....uhhh, more like front seat talk, right?

It doesn't last long. He wants to return the favor now. Again. So I don't mind and since my jeans are already undone, he quickly reaches past my panties and has me pinned in my seat in no time. In a matter of minutes, I'm writhing and begging for him to just make me come already. And in a kinky turn of events, he puts his left hand over my mouth and lets me scream. He works me mercilessly with his right hand, leaving me to wonder if he's making me get so close to finishing on purpose or out of ignorance? I'd rather not know at this height in the game. Either way, my screams are being muffled by his hand. I'm doing my best not to lick his palm by accident. Pretty soon, I'm sobbing against his hand when I finally do come in a violent spasm. It's kind of sexy and scary that I felt like he was trying to suffocate me...or stifle my cries like a crazy rapist. Is that bad?

He doesn't let me rest, he goes back to ravaging my clit. I beg him to just fuck me now. "But I-I-I can't, not right now" he loudly whispers to me. I shake my head, feeling like I'm possessed: "NO. With your finger! Just fuck me, please!" He obeys and uses his two fingers to work me from inside. He hurtles me once more into a hot, harsh orgasm. I feel tenderized. I feel insane.

Once we've recovered and gotten semi-dressed, we sit and talk about music. He says there's a couple of songs he wants me to hear. He plays "Slob my Nob" by Murs, an underground hip-hop artist. He claims this song reminds him of me. I tell him I don't know whether I should be flattered or horrified. I hope he wasn't serious. The second song is called "Sound Waves and Sound Bytes" by Chiqui Dracula. That name sounds familiar. I shoot him a glance and ask, "Isn't that one of the many unflattering nicknames you have?" He looks back at me and a wave of amusement washes over his face, "How did you know that?" I shrug and say that all his cousins call him that on Facebook. He plays the song anyway and I immediately recognize his voice. It's Edgar singing along to an acoustic guitar. He's singing a very emo-like song about memories and moments in our lives. It's not bad, but it's also not very good. I listen in silence as he watches me intently. I slowly smile and ask him how long ago he recorded this. "Back in August. That's my cousin on guitar." Once the song ends, he asks me for my honest opinion. I do my best to try and give creative criticism, but he insists I'm being too nice and that I should be brutally honest. Well, along the way, I kind of imply that his voice is a little whiny. That wounds him and he gives me a hard time about it for the rest of the night. I try and soften the blow by cradling his head in my arms as he rests on my chest. I kiss him on the forehead and tell him to get over it. He laughs and says I'm mean.

I look at the clock on his dash and see it's almost 3 a.m. I know he needs to be up and back at the library in a few more hours. I tell him I should go. "No, no, stay....please" he begs and holds my hand. I ask why and he states simply: "Because if you go right now, it'll be a lot longer until I see you again."

That's about the most romantic thing he's ever said to me. I bite my lip and tell myself not to let him get to me. Don't let the pretty words get in your head!!!

Too late. I sit around in his car some more, talking about life and kissing his fingers intermittently. He reaches over his center console to kiss me like a feverish teenager. Finally, about a half hour later, we both give in and decide it's time to go. I start to get out but he insists on driving me back to the house. We do our usual long goodbye, complete with a million kisses and whispered words. I ask if he's serious about going to see Aziz Ansari with me. He says yes and asks when it is. I tell him I'll FB him the details. He says goodnight to me and calls me by my first name. I swoon and say goodnight back.

I wobble back inside to the cheers of Sandy and Mayra. I tell them I deserve a slow clap, like in the movies. My vagina feels like it's been on the highway to hell. Ouch!

The next morning I send off a message on Facebook:

Alright, so Aziz Ansari will be performing at the Orpheum in L.A. on Saturday 11/20/10 at 7:00 PM. If you're down, I'll get us a pair of tix because I'm a hardcore Berkeley feminist and apparently that's how I roll. lol . Let me know soon please.

Last nite was fun, as always. Take it easy and GOOD LUCK ON YOUR MIDTERMS.

I won't expect an answer. I've learned to expect very little from Edgar. I only exist to him in the dark. I remember I asked him when was the last time we've hung out in the daylight. We both said "In years" at the same time.

You won't worm your way back into my thoughts, Ed. I know how this story goes already.

Here's your punch drunk cupid knocked clean out of his senses

Nobody new to update on and that’s possibly the best scenario I could imagine right now. The emotional part of my being is ill. I feel sick, a love-struck invalid.

My new obsession/distraction consists of drunk texting back and forth with Danny in the middle of the night. I’ve gone out drinking with my co-workers and some of my girlfriends the last few weekends in a row and inevitably, usually on the drive home, I will whip out my phone and find some messages from him. Or I’ll be too drunk to know any better and just start randomly talking to him because I’m lonely and I miss him. It feels weird to be out and about in the city and not have him around. So I get sentimental and start dribbling out stupid, misspelled messes to him.

Lately, the texts have centered on finding the right time to sneak into his room at his parents’ house and have sex. No joke, this is how we used to do it before we moved in together. For years and years, we would just wait for the perfect time that his parents were out grocery shopping or something and then I’d come over. It certainly made us appreciate sex and it always had this thrilling, risky vibe to it. We were always scared we’d get caught! For a brief time, Dan’s family lived in a hotel suite while their house was being remodeled: that was the best! He’d call me as I’d be driving home from work and tell me it was time. I knew what he meant. I would speed as fast as I could in rush hour traffic to the Residence Inn in La Mirada and practically jump on top of him as soon as I’d walk through the door. I think this is why he and I could always bang one out pretty fast; we never knew any other way.

This is probably why we got so sick of each other in the apartment. We had lost all excitement over physical contact. Sex was just another thing collecting dust along with the television, the refrigerator and the couch. We didn’t have that exciting twist on it anymore. And since (theoretically) we could have sex anytime we wanted to, there was no more thrill of the hunt or agony of defeat. If you can eat chocolate cake and pizza anytime you want to, don’t you get tired of it after a while? I don’t know. You get lazy about it.

And now that I can’t have him anytime I want to, I get sad. I get depressed that nobody finds me attractive anymore. I spiral into a gloomy funk that seems to have no remedy. It’s like I can’t be happy: either I’m unhappy when I’m with him or unhappy when I’m not. And it doesn’t help that Dan’s so nice over text and writes me dirty messages about wanting to fuck my brains out. I can tell he misses having my crazy ass around.

So we’re planning on meeting up on Friday October 8th because his parents are going to be at the Maroon 5 concert. I’m not going to even attempt and lie: I definitely plan on having sex with him again. But….unlike all these other stupid idiots who claim they can take it straight from me, I know Dan can have a frank discussion about how he feels. As I mentioned, he and I are very blunt people. I am going to lay down the law with him and tell him that either we get back together and seek professional counseling to solve our differences or we stop with the shenanigans. That’s right, I’m calling his bluff. I know there’s a lot of good stuff between us and I let it sour….or rather, I was the first one to just give up. I’ve gone through so many shades of remorse that this might sound ridiculous, but I want to be honest with him for once.

But the cheating! I know! It sits on my conscience like a dirty, evil, depressing weight. How could I get back with him after all that? Honestly, I don’t know.

Maybe this is all crazy talk because I’m lonely. I’m still wounded over Alfonso shunning me and all the other idiots breaking promises. And I forgot how embarrassing it is to go clubbing as a single gal. I’m out on the dance floor, minding my own business and then some fugly dude sidles up next to me and my friends or tries to dry hump me from behind. Ewwww.

Okay maybe getting back with Dan is a bit drastic and uncharacteristic, especially since I have spent the ENTIRE TIME on this blog trying to escape him. But now I’m starting to doubt myself….the single life sucks ass and I hate feeling like I’ve lost control of my own heart.

I wish there was a way I could only keep the good stuff about Dan. Like, I wish there was a way to bottle those feelings and keep them forever. I would give anything to just feel what it’s like to sit there and laugh hysterically with him. To see him smile because I said something funny, to feel him hold me on the couch as we watch TV together, to hear him talk on the phone while he tells me about his day, to sit in my car and watch him walk out of his house, to feel him hold my hand, to kiss like crazy teenagers to Suedehead” again….

….but then I remember all the fighting, the arguments, the petty squabbles, and the passive aggressive behavior and how mean we were with each other the last few months.

Oh, I’m no good. I obviously don’t know what I want….or rather; I think I do….but I just don’t know how to get it. Quick, perfect dream boy…wherever you are out there….show up already before I get back with my ex-boyfriend!

I'm on a posting spree....sorry...

I was bored at work so I made a list of all the things that make me attracted to guys...and what makes me unattracted. All men (because I'm getting sick of boys!) who fit the parameters should apply!

Turns Ons:

• Having a good job/career that pays moderately well and has room for growth.
• Owning a car (unless he lives somewhere where you don’t need it)
• Sense of humor
• Well-groomed
• Sideburns/facial hair
• Should be tall, at least taller than me
• Should have friends and be nice to his family
• Tattoos
• Good with his hands, especially at fixing cars or household stuff

Turns Offs:
• Having kids
• Married previously or had a long list of ex-girlfriends
• Bad breath, especially cigarette breath
• Not college educated
• Lazy and/or unmotivated
• Likes country music
• Being a Republican
• Wears skinny jeans
• Hipsters

Holding on to what I haven’t got...

I saved all the texts I exchanged with Alfonso while preparing to go to Boston and then when I was actually there...Why? Because I'm sad and pathetic...I don't know what else to do with them...ughhh, get this demon crush out of me God!

Me: Hey it’s [me]!! Can’t believe I’ll be in Boston in 2 weeks.
Alfonso: hey. More like a week or so =P . It should be a really nice weekend too!
Me: Did I type 2 weeks? What a dummy. Yes, 1 week exactly. Beyond stoked. Whoo!!

Me: Landed here in Boston a few minutes ago. Wanna see u Sunday nite unless you wanna do something sooner. Let me know!
Alfonso: welcome! I’ll be free tmrw eve and all of Sunday. Maybe sat eve too. R u & ur friend planning on crashing at my place sun night? Let me know if u need venue ideas.
Me: Unless she tells me different, yeah we plan on crashing with u Sunday evening. I shall be in touch. I welcome any venue ideas u might have!
Alfonso: awesome. Well, say u wanna get some mex food before the sox game, I can guide you to some in Kenmore Sq. or say ure in Allston and wanna get smashed. I can guide u!
Me: I definitely wanna get smashed in this city. I got a streak going  I think after the sox game on Saturday nite? Hopefully we can meet up then before Sunday.

Me: So we get out of the game tonight around 8 pm. Wanna hang out afterwards? Let me know if u can. We will be at the prudential center.
Alfonso: hey. That sounds good. I’m a little under the weather, but I’m still gonna try to make it. ttul
Me: Cool, we will head over to the pru directly after the game. Hope to see ya.
Me: Leaving Fenway and slowly wading thru the crowd to catch the T over to the pru. Call me when ur close.
Alfonso: im headed out in a few. Be there in like 20 or so. What are we gonna do at the pru? I think otherside café is on Mass Ave. and newbury is a good place to go.
Me: the person we are staying with works at pru and gets off at 10 pm. We want to hang out there with u, kill time, etc.
Alfonso: Ah, I see. Cool. See u there in a bit.
Me: Cool. We are there now, at the mall in the pru. Just wandering around. Our friend works at the body shop.
Alfonso: hey, missed the first bus but I’ll be there in a few. Where in the pru are u? What store are u near?
Me: We are at the mall, inside the body shop.
Alfonso: k

Me: What is your stop on the T? We’re getting ready to head back to Davis and grab our stuff before heading to your place.

(he called me on the phone)

Me: So we’re running late (again). We’re packing up here in Davis now, then walking to the T. Give us another 45 mins. Sorry!!
Alfonso: No worries. It’s totally fine.
Me: We still had to take that bloody shuttle bus….jumping on the red line now to connect to the orange. The T does not love us.
Me: Next stop is your stop. See ya in a bit.

The hardest part of ending is starting again...

Conversations with Paul...

Me: And how are you?
Paul: Doing pretty well: taking classes, going to many of them, attracting the ladies. You know? The standard stuff.
Me: lol. You should have no problem attracting the ladies. You are just too cute.
Paul: Yep. And I've got the good fortune to have a girlfriend who understands this problem and supports me in dealing with it :D
Me: lol....you are cursed with such good luck. Poor Paul.
Paul: Yep. Ah well, life is hard. We must make the best of it. Besides, you're not so poorly off yourself.
Me: Oh why's that? lol
Paul: Well endowed, beautiful, smart. You know, all the things a guy looks for.
Me: Oh Mister Paul. Flattery will get you EVERYWHERE :)
Paul: I truly believe so, especially when it's true ^_~

And if it was mine to say, I wouldn't speak….

So this is fall?

Friday afternoon I solidified plans with Andrew the EMT…:

Me: I see we’ve planned to hang out tomorrow…is that still on? If so, what time and what did you have in mind?
Andrew: I’m thinking somewhere in Old Town Pasadena…there are a few bars down there.
Me: Sweet. You coming to pick me up or are we gonna meet there? More importantly, will you be coming in the ambulance? LOL!
Andrew: I’m in it right now lol would you mind meeting me there? Maybe around 9:30-ish? Bar hopping!
Me: 9:30 tomorrow it is. Just let me know what bar you’ll be at. Hope you’re not texting and driving. Make the dead guy in the back do it.
Andrew: LMAO, oh he WILL do it. No doubt about it…and yes I will let you know what bar I will be at.

See? Sounds fun, right? My friend Reina texted me for good luck and mentioned that our other friend Ana was nervous for me. Even Paul chimed in over FB chat and wished me well on my date. I spent all of Saturday lounging around my house, mulling over this ridiculous date and how I wasn’t even really interested…at the very least, I’d get some good laughs in and a few free drinks. No harm, no foul.

9 pm rolls its ugly head around and I fire a text:

Me: So what bar do you want to meet at? I’m getting ready to head out in a few.
Andrew: Hey not sure if you got my text earlier but unfortunately my cousin passed away late last night and I’m with my family. I’m really sorry about this.
Me: Wow….obviously I did not. Holy shit: I’m really sorry to hear that. Hang in there man, I know you just lost your grandpa. My deepest sympathies to your family.
Andrew: Thank you. It’s hard right now for us all. Thank you for understanding. It’s too much right now.

WHAT?!?! HIS FUCKING COUSIN DIED?!? Ughhh…depression sinks in. Depression leads to desperation…..desperation leads to Edgar….Edgar leads to no willpower…no willpower leads to pathetic texts:

Me: Well, there goes my Saturday night. Date just canceled on me because his cousin died. Want a study break tonight?
Edgar: That sucks. I would love to but I am at dinner.
Me: What about after? I’m gonna go get dinner too and drown my sorrows in beer. Sucking your dick later tonight would cheer me up.

Naturally, he never responded. Either because I’ve sufficiently freaked him out or he’s a coward…either way, I didn’t care and added this to Edgar’s ever-growing loss column. I ended up having a shitty night with only two of the four bars I visited being open (one was not open to the public because of a private party and the second had about 10 police cars parked in front of it). I stumbled home around 1 am, reeking of cigars. Thanks Havana House! Ughhh.

And to top it off, I spent most of the weekend avoiding the eternal nuisance that is Jason Hunt.

Quick recap: Jason was a guy I hooked up with in 2004 when I still thought blowjobs were intimate and special. I was visiting his friend (and my super crush) Sean in New York City. After being rejected soundly, (Sean had a girlfriend he hated but not enough to cheat on) I decided to chat it up with Jay and proceeded to give him a pretty clumsy blowjob in the front seat of his car. I still trace this back to the moment in my life where I fell in love with sucking dick. It was exhilarating, totally unlike me and incredibly reckless. I think he and I talked once or twice about it when I returned back home but I quickly grew bored of him once he made it clear that’s ALL he ever wanted to talk about. Six years later, he’s still as sleazy and immature. We caught each other on FB chat and discussed what we were up to in life. It only took a few minutes before he was begging to come visit me so he could “bang that ass.” I entertained the idea for about a day before I decided once and for all this guy was an idiot and there was no way in hell I’d be spending ANY time or money on his stupid butt. I didn’t even think he was cute anymore! Yuck….and did I mention he’s as dumb as rocks? His only redeeming factor is he loves the Deftones as much as I do.

This had better not be overall theme of the fall season: dead people and gross guys coming after me. I had enough disappointment this summer; I don’t need it seeping into the next chapter of my life.

I still think (read: fantasize) about Alfonso a million times a day. But I’ve gotten better! I don’t think I’ll be saving my last vacation day of the year to visit Boston….I might use that for Reina’s birthday weekend in Vegas next month. I’m trying to stay realistic here. But it’s so hard when he embodies so much of what I want……I don’t think I’ll be satisfied until he rejects me completely and thoroughly.

Why can’t I just get over him? Why can’t I just knock him out of my heart? I need this persisting crush to just go away as quickly as it came because I know it won’t lead to a happy ending. They never do.



p.s. this is currently my favorite picture of him....it's his profile pic on FB...I've spent far too many minutes staring at it and feeling unhappy when the giddiness fades.

Come outside and breathe in…relax your arms and let me in…

Labor Day weekend has come and gone which means the summer is essentially over. It has been an eventful summer thus far and I really wish it wouldn’t end….but all good things must come to a close….

Thursday night I hopped on Facebook to check my messages and continue my exhaustive stalking of Alfonso when I saw my friend Andrew was available to chat. I wanted to see how he was doing since he works as an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) and had also recently lost his grandfather. We made some nice small talk and there came a point in the conversation where I asked about all the horror stories he must see on the job…and well…then this happened:

Me: Well, one of these days we should hang out...I wanna hear stories. I watch Rescue Me. It’s about firefighters. I need to bust some myths about the job.
Andrew: Please do. Hanging out should be cool. Let’s do it. We should next weekend after I come back from Laughlin: what do u say???
Me: Sure thing....September 11th is a Saturday. What do you say? It’s America’s anniversary of the worst tragedy in history. Can't go wrong, right? :)
Andrew: Why not? I like your thinking...how ironic it’s on that date and you will be hearing stories from someone in the EMS field. I love it.
Me: You can’t make this kinda shit up.
Andrew: I should say, I love it that we'll be hanging out :) I need to go out. August was by far one of the crappiest months ever for me. I’m glad I made it lol
Me: well, let's celebrate. Fuck August. September will be better.

So, out of nowhere, I got asked out on a date. So much for summer winding down, right? Well, I’ll count this as part of the fall season. I’m not particularly attracted to Andrew but he’s very witty and I need to hang out with a guy who actually WANTS to see me. We exchanged digits and he threatened/promised to bug me with texts over the long weekend while he was vacationing in Laughlin. I thought “Yeah right whatever” since I am now accustomed to guys promising to keep in touch and blowing me off like it’s something fun to do. I didn’t pay much mind to him the whole weekend but instead focused on having a blast with my friend Sandy while watching my favorite band, The Sweet & Tender Hooligans, perform in Hermosa Beach. I was in new wave heaven with a face full of lead singer Jose’s crotch during “There is a Light That Never Goes Out” when I check my phone and see a message from Andrew.

Andrew: “There is a light that never goes out…take me anywhere I don’t care, I don’t care.”
Me: They’re doing that song right now!!! You’re good. :)
Andrew: I’m good and buzzed lol Drinks on [you], just kidding….
Me: Haha!! Enjoy Laughlin, see ya later.

Not sure what he meant to say in that last text but I just chalked it up to drunken texting. I had a good laugh about it….especially since he quoted the song lyrics wrong. Oh well. We’ll give him an “A” for effort.

I’m trying to stay in reality. I’m trying to be the best person I can right now and not sell myself short. On Friday afternoon I went to confession at my church and sat in the pews with my heart racing. I had stopped taking communion last year when I moved out with Dan. I don’t think it’s very appropriate in my religion to live in sin with your boyfriend and take the holy sacrament, so out of respect I stopped receiving it but still attended church somewhat regularly. Now here we are a year later and I need to confess to God and my priest what I’ve been doing this whole time in order to start taking communion again. Father Penaloza was the only priest on duty, which was killing me because I know he’s kind of old school and a little ornery. I sat there worried, my mind a myriad of all the different approaches I could take to explain my situation. I tried hashing it all out in my head, hoping that my favorite priest Father Enrique would show up….when all of a sudden, I see him emerge from behind the altar and ask who’s next to take confession (it’s a sign?! GOD HEARD ME?). I felt myself stand up like a robot and walk over to him. And then I let it all out: the live-in boyfriend situation, the decision to stop taking communion and not attending mass, the drugs, the lying, the cheating….and most importantly, all the grief and disappointed I put on my own mother. I was forgiven, asked to offer an act of contrition to God and say a prayer. Tears welled in my eyes but this time they weren’t because of sadness or anger….they were of relief and maybe a little joy. I took communion and wine this Sunday at mass and never felt better, despite how bitter the wine might have tasted.

Every week life feels like it’s getting better and better. I really love this feeling of renewal, of new beginnings and hope. I will not let Alfonso’s silence (which I have now accepted as scorn) bother me. He never returned my friendly text and seems to be going out with some girl named Mabel to see Broken Social Scene. It doesn’t sound like he’s going on a “date” with this girl and she appears to be a co-worker….but still, I am jealous. I really, really need to stop stalking his FB page but it’s so tempting…especially since most of his posts are interesting and I learn something else I like about him. Ughhhhh…..I’ll leave him alone for a few weeks. Can’t promise I won’t spy on his posts, though.

For now, let’s concentrate on my date this Saturday. Andrew sounds genuinely interested. Let’s see how long he’ll stay interested since I’ve already decided not to fuck him, no matter how cool/funny/nice he might turn out to be on the first date. Boning every single guy I’ve met this summer within 24 hours has helped in getting myself rejected on each and every occasion. The new and improved fall schedule will wait at least a few dates before jumping in the sack. Let’s see if a revised game plan will improve my chances of establishing a meaningful connection and staying rejection-free. Sorry Andrew. Welcome to autumn, folks!!!!

Go get your knife....and kiss me...

What a weird time in my life. I feel like every guy is after me, much like the skunk in those cartoons chasing after the terrified cat. The more I get chased, the more I am reminded of who I want to chase...

But first, as an aside, I think it’s kind of gross that my vagina is now on some sort of independent Pavlovian experiment. As I had mentioned in my previous entry concerning my sexodus to Berkeley, I pushed the boundaries of my carnal knowledge to the tune of several Deftones songs. I am really into this band at the moment so I found it pretty harmless if I jumped on YouTube and watched a few live videos of them performing. What struck me as odd was the fact that during a performance of “My Own Summer (Shove It)”, I found myself incredibly turned on. It’s like the music triggered some area of my brain that’s wired to sex and suddenly all I want to do is bone the lead singer. My eyes were glued to the screen as I watched Chino Moreno leap into the audience to scream his vocals at all the sweaty fans. His pants were sagging (typical Mexican fashion!) which caused his boxers to show and every time he raised his arms over his head, his shirt would ride up, exposing his lower belly. I was having Berkeley flashbacks at the exact same time…..just wow. As soon as the video was over, I clicked my browser off and laughed. I remembered Paul and how when he came in my mouth he actually said, “Ah...ahhh...here it comes.” HAHAHA, that was actually pretty funny. Needless to say, I’ve been watching more Deftones videos and hoping for those hot and bothered feelings again.

As a result, now I think I have a fetish for half Asians:

Half Chinese/Half Mexican


Half Korean/Half Irish


Half Japanese/Half American


But this entry was about being chased, right? Sorry, I got distracted for a second there….

On Friday my best friend Lauren invited me to go out with her and her boyfriend Mike to see a comedy show at the Hollywood Improv. It turned out to be a double date of sorts when I found out that Mike’s friend John would be tagging along. Lauren had talked to him about me but I was skeptical I would like him. As soon as I saw him walk into Mike and Lauren’s apartment I was 100% sure I wouldn’t like him. He smelled like cigarettes, looked like a sweaty, short version of Jonah Hill (and not in an endearing way) and wore his hair in a ponytail. I did not feel an attraction at all and did my best to keep a smile on my face as I made nice chit-chat. It didn’t help that he downed a few beers and mixed drinks through the course of the night, which got him drunker than I expected. I believe at one point in the night he told me he looks exactly like his mother but with facial hair. Also, he’s 34 years old which is a little too old for me. I got nothing but loser/slacker vibes from him the entire time. When the night finally wrapped up, I shook his hand and made a straight bee-line for my car. He clumsily asked if I wanted to hang out some time. My blood ran cold and I said “Uh yeah, I don’t know. Whatever.” I saw him reach for his phone but I stopped him and said he could get my number from Lauren. I drove off like the devil was chasing me. Sorry Lola but he really isn’t my type at all. Still, it’s nice to feel desired…even if it is Pepe Le Pew that’s after me.

Boys are still on the hunt for me, even ones that I was sure hated me: I spent all of Saturday cleaning up my old apartment with Dan so we could get our deposit back and he made it very clear he still wants me, at least for hook up purposes. He is extremely blunt, something I’ve always admired about him because I can be very direct, as well. Putting two very blunt people together isn’t always a good idea. He straight up said we should have sex while we cleaned the apartment up. I didn’t even balk and said that’d be fine with me. There really is no reason for us to play games: we know what we want. I had to break the bad news and tell him unfortunately I was on my period…..

Me: You’re getting a blow job, mister.
Dan: Can’t argue with that.

It was therapeutic cleaning the apartment and also very refreshing to actually see Dan clean something: if only he had been this neat when we lived together. Oh well. He made me laugh while I was cleaning the tub by flashing his dick at me. I started cracking up and nearly fell over on my ass. I giggled and told him I missed his penis. He smiled and said I didn’t have to miss it. Then we started discussing the possibility of us becoming “fuck buddies.” I said that’d be a cool idea but I was afraid of getting emotionally attached. We left the subject open and continued cleaning. Several times through out the day we’d start flirting again and making out. I made him wait until the apartment was spotless before I gave him a blow job. When he finished, he stood up and was incredibly dazed. I drank my Fanta Orange soda to get the taste of dick out of my mouth and laughed at him. He kept muttering happily that I made him light headed. He said my technique had improved. I smiled and thought to myself, “Well I’ve had plenty of practice this summer.”

I spent the better part of Sunday having intense girl talk with my friend Reina. She wanted to know all about Paul, Alfonso and the break up with Danny. My crush and intense infatuation with Alfonso still has not waned, especially if he keeps liking my posts on Facebook like he did this weekend. I decided to throw him a bone for once and comment on some article he had posted about solar flares. That got the machinery working in my head….hmmmm….I should text him, right?

Me: Hope you had a nice weekend. Looking forward to seeing a reply to my e-mail sometime soon. No pressure, right? ;p

Still no reply as of Monday night, but he’s not the fastest on the draw. I ache to see what he comes up with as an excuse. Ughhhhh….he’s seeping into my insecurities. This is so not good.

Well, back to being chased....and me chasing after Alfonso. The games continue.

We drift deeper into the sound, life goes on….

My weekend with Paul was….well….I think it would better be explained in a Skype conversation I had with my best friend Caroline this afternoon:

me: so my trip to Berkeley was a bit eye opening
Caroline: nice! I want to hear all about it
me: Paul is so not the boy I once knew...lol
Caroline: lol
me: well, I’ll be brief. I won’t be posting this stuff on FB or LJ....I wanted you to get the low-down
Caroline: lol
me: he's in an open relationship with a 33 year old woman who is a bartender
me: and she encouraged him to bone me
Caroline: Oh. My. God.
me: He explained to me his like "rules" in their relationship
me: and apparently he has to ask "permission" to fuck other girls
me: and he is not as straight as he once was...he finds men sexually attractive
me: oh and his girlfriend is bi...like full on bi-sexual
Caroline: wow. So was she hoping for a threesome?
me: he said and I quote: "it's too bad you don’t like girls because I think you'd really like Susan."
me: she was out of town at some trade convention, thank God. He wanted me to meet her
Caroline: geez
me: I was a little shocked to say the least. When I met him and started our relationship, he was a very shy awkward boy, virgin and a bit religious...I took his V-card remember?
me: and now look at him...lol....Jesus Christ.
me: at least he's gotten better in bed. Much better.
Caroline: hahahaha
Caroline: so you went for it?
me: yeah....lol. I wanted to see if he had improved
Caroline: too funny
me: it was....wow...eye opening. Thank God I’m no longer interested in him besides being friends and a little hook up now and then
me: I can't be with a guy in an open relationship
Caroline: no kidding. Very strange.

So there you have it. The weekend in Berkeley was very lovely, besides the odd revelations from my ex-boyfriend. Paul and I got to hang out and do nothing, something we both enjoyed. We shared a bottle of Jimador tequila and did nothing but watch Torchwood and take shots with ginger ale as a chaser.

The sex was fun and I got to pick the soundtrack (Deftones! Ahhhh!). Like I mentioned above, he has gotten better at intercourse…..maybe a tad scarier. He loves going down on me now and would not stop making me come with his fingers and mouth. He was incredibly relentless and my pleas for him to stop and let me rest fell upon deaf ears. At one point, he had squeezed a couple of fingers inside of me and was savagely fucking the living daylights out of me and I thought, “Dear God….this is how I’m to die.” I don’t think I’ve ever been terrified during a sexual encounter….but there’s always a first time for everything.

I prefer actually fucking (you know, good old penis in vagina) and when we finally did get to do it, he wasn’t very good. He’s a little too tall for me, I’ve realized. Maybe I failed to acknowledge it back in college? But his shoulder blade kept slamming into my face and he couldn’t keep a good rhythm. I tried hoisting my legs over his shoulders to try and intensify the fucking but he quickly slipped out. Oh well! I got mine at least a dozen times over the weekend. He’s certainly been practicing. It just grosses me out to think he does it on some older cougar type. Ewwww.

It was very pleasant to go out with Paul, no strings attached. We went to the movies, had dinner at some of our favorite restaurants, visited friends and wandered Telegraph Avenue. We would walk the freezing cold streets, side by side with me always walking a little faster to keep up with his long strides. There would be times where we wouldn’t even speak, just walk in silence. I don’t know, but I found that very comforting.

We spent the better part of our nights and mornings lying on his futon mattress on the floor of his apartment, just talking (when we weren’t furiously fucking the crap out of one another). We had some pretty stellar conversations, one of which included what we wanted to do in life. And when we weren’t getting philosophical with one another, we talked about (what else?) the special people in our lives. He told me his girlfriend Susan is a twice divorced, childless bartender with huge knockers and red hair. Naturally, I Facebooked her picture later on and grossed myself off. She’s old. Too old. But whatever, I’m just glad he’s happy. He seems to really like her and I found it endearing that he went and checked on her cat in Oakland while I was in the shower. I still think they’re kind of creepy but thankfully, they are not my problem. The topic then switched over to my second-time-around crush on Alfonso and I told Paul as much as I could, how I find Alfonso to be very witty, erudite, sweet and devastatingly cute. Paul told me to go for it and made mention several times over the weekend that I should pursue this boy outright and move to Boston, simply for the reason that I have never been one to balk at a risk. I think I used to be a ballsier person 4 years ago……I should reclaim that old part of myself. We shall see.

This trip really tied up some loose strings in my mind and in my heart about Paul. I have confirmation that I no longer have any feelings for him, except as a friend and though I will always find him attractive, we are not on the same terms anymore. We lead very different sexual lives and I don’t think there’s any point reconciling them. I will always want more and I think he will always want less, as far as commitment goes. Besides, I really like someone else, in case you couldn’t tell. :) Here are some cute pictures we took at our favorite pizza place:







A less dark Paul:



I like this one he took of me:


I told him that I really liked it because he made me look so pretty. His response was: "Well, that's because you really are so pretty."

Awwww. Still over him, though. LOL!!