What's your price for flight in finding Mr.Right?

It was one of THOSE weekends....if you get what I'm saying.

Yup....one of those weekends you'd wish the alcohol had done a better job of erasing.

My new motto of not caring and just going for it was not even a week old before I started putting it into effect. Time to break it all in, right?

Oh geez.

It all began on Friday night....what a surprise...it ALWAYS starts on Friday night.

I'm drifting into a pleasant sleep when I hear a text message come through. Pissed off and half-awake, I grab my phone to see which dick-wad it is now....Rob? Dan? Jay?

None of the above. Oh no....it was Edgar.

Oh yes, THAT Edgar. The guy I cheated on Dan with for like 2 years. The most unromantic fling a girl could ever ask for. You know how some people enter into a passionate affair while they're cheating and make plans to run away together? NOPE. Not mine. Just a bunch of sweaty blow-jobs in the back of his Solara under the cover of darkness. And the ever legendary line, "Oh but see...you and I only look good on paper." He was one of the reasons I broke it off with Dan. Then when that relationship was over, he stopped calling me. The thrill was gone. He was in law-school full time now and there was no room for me. There never was.

I had deleted his number so the conversation started off brilliantly:

Wonderful...now I have to make small talk as I'm dying of sleep. God, it's so transparent what he wants...it doesn't take long before he stumbles his way towards his true intention and I make a stupid mistake....

Ughh. I shouldn't have opened my big mouth and made my availability known. Oh well. He doesn't answer my text, instead opts to call me up right on the spot. We make more chit-chat before he asks if I'd like to come hang out with him in his apartment the following night. OBVIOUSLY we all know what that means, too. (sigh) Sure. Fuck it. I agree to text him the next night after my company outing to Dodger Stadium.

The next night my whole company is out getting rowdy. After a heart-stopping Dodger win in the bottom of the 9th, we're all still in the mood to celebrate. My friends and I wind up at the Brass Monkey. Ah yes, the same bar I met that kid Jon at and then proceeded to have some intense hook-up action. I never did hear from him again, hahah!! So anyway, we're at Brass Monkey and my friend Mayra ends up chatting with this cute kid named Alejandro. His buddy Peter introduces himself to me and I make pleasant conversation. This Peter guy is kinda good-looking, with slightly salt & pepper hair. He works at the Natural History Museum. We exchange phone numbers (his is Washington DC area!) and I disappear into the night, ready to embark on a voyage to Orange County. From Koreatown to Placentia. A fucking 40 minute drive for a booty call. Edgar better be worth it!

But he's not. He's sooooo not. Yeah, I am sooooo over Edgar at this point.

His roommates are all out of town, so he's got a nice little two-story apartment all to himself. He serves me up scotch whisky on the rocks (Johnnie Walker of course) and we make more inane banter on his couch in the living room. Edgar looks more or less the same. In the last two years, I really feel I've outgrown him. I find all of his conversation boring. I don't think he's as attractive as he once was. And he has absolutely no tact. Once there's a lull in the conversation, he asks if I want to go upstairs. I shrug and say okay. Might as well get it over with. 

He might be a third year law student, 8 months away from taking the bar exam...but he scores a solid F in the bedroom department. Either he's gotten lazy since I last saw him or the quality of my sex life has improved. I'm gonna go with the latter. 

Oh God, so terrible. We started off with a blowjob and all I could think of as I bobbed my head up and down on his lap was how incredibly small his dick is. Was it always this tiny? Why did I ever hook up with him? Midway through me wondering how long I can hold my breath and thinking up of grocery lists for tomorrow afternoon, he signals he's coming and I swallow what I can only describe as the faintest of loads. Yay! I can breathe through my nose more freely now! Argh...then it's my turn. My retribution, if you will. Basically, he groped my breasts, rubbed my clit like it was a lottery scratcher (OUCH!!! So not sexy!) and I had to I fake an orgasm so he'd stop. He then spent maybe like, 2 minutes on top of me thrusting before he came all red-faced and groaning. It was pleasant to slide him off and ask to borrow his shower. I needed a lot of scrubbing to feel better.

I won't even get into the horrifying details of his bachelor pad bathroom he shares with 2 other boys. Ewww!

Bedtime. I slip in next to him and shamelessly praise his deliciously cold air-conditioning. We say goodnight and I struggle to get any real sleep. I keep waking up, unaware of my surroundings and annoyed at Edgar's snoring. 

8 am can't come soon enough! He nudges me awake and I get up with a start. "Oh wow! You're a pretty light sleeper! I barely tapped you and you're already up" he laughs. I tell him I don't ever need a snooze button. I'm always ready to go.

I leave his place fast. Did I just fuck a guy for some whiskey and central A/C? Maybe. 

Quiet reflection time as I coast down the windy canyon roads of the 57 north freeway. Jack FM is on at full volume and I'm singing along to Night Ranger's "Sister Christian" which I then decide is my new theme song. It's a beautiful summer morning in Southern California and I feel like I'm top of the world. I don't answer to anyone. I fuck whoever I want. I sing whatever I want. I drive wherever I want. This is my life and I love it. It was never supposed to be perfect but I am having fun with all my imperfections. 

Only 40 more days till my New Jersey/New York sex-capade! Time to make more mistakes!

Terry and I have discussed finding the right motel (nothing too seedy) and he's offered to come stay with me so I'm not alone...I'm excited for him to show me around New Jersey. Maybe Atlantic City? Maybe Seaside Heights, aka The Jersey Shore? He's a decent tour guide, so we'll see. I'm not even that preoccupied with wanting to fuck him.

I wish I could say the same about Jay towards me. Check out this gem of a text I got the other day:

I won't say I don't provoke him. I do flirt with Jay a little....but he takes it to a whole other level. YIKES.

Sorry, but I'm no one's slut....I'm a woman on a mission. I'm a bird in flight.

I'm enjoying the illusion & the things my body says..

I scarcely know who I am anymore....and I think I rather like it. 

Since my trip to New York three weeks ago, a calm has come over me. A new school of thought has taken over. I am giving up the search for a life-partner for the moment....which I hope will turn into a few weeks and maybe a few months. I am over being constantly ignored and rejected for doing nothing. I feel as if I'm being punished for being myself. FOR BEING NICE.

In the days since New York, I felt an overwhelming sense of independence and reckless abandon. Now, I know that's not supposed to be a permanent change to my life here in LA, but I will borrow from what occurred on the trip. I will not worry about what others think of me, I will not dedicate every single moment of my free-time to finding the "perfect" boyfriend, I will not subject myself to feeling guilty about what feels good and I will not apologize for who I am. It seems I am always having to remind myself to take care of me first....it should be part of my new outlook...it should be my lifestyle.

I've always been aggressive but it seems even at the level I was, guys still trampled all over me. I made too many excuses for jerks. I bowed to their "kindness" and waited for them. And what did I get for waiting and being patient? I got spit in the face. I got doors slammed in my face. Texts went unanswered. Opportunities were squandered. My time was wasted.

New rule: I'm not waiting around for anyone. I'm not going to romanticize hook-ups and hold my breath, hoping that this is the one that I strike gold with. FUCK THAT. I am taking anything I please. I'm walking into the room and making off with your antiques. I'm taking anything that's not nailed down. It's mine if I want it.

No, I'm not going to take up petty crime. I'm referring to boys....guys.....men. I'm tired of being so "nice." I'm tired of giving and giving, of trying and trying, of squeezing my eyes shut and praying that it goes right. I just want to fuck you and leave.....at least for now.

So maybe it was the new outlook, but I did something rather impulsive.

I'm flying into Newark airport in New Jersey on October 29th. I plan to stay on the East Coast, Staten Island specifically, for 3 days and 2 nights.

I bought a couple of concert tickets to see The Deftones in New York City on Tuesday October 30th. 

Uhm, Jay is going as my date.

Terry and I have made plans to hang out, as well.

I enjoyed New York immensely. I felt so alive and the same time so vulnerable. I've never been to a city that gives me such a thrill. It doesn't feel like home. No. It feels like the perfect play ground for me to get lost in my new found hedonism.....or rather, my renewed sense of hedonism.

I'm going to use those idiots to satisfy every waking need inside of me. I'm going to get drunk. I'm going to see one of my favorite bands in a strange and exciting city. I'm going to be anonymous. I'm going to stay up late. I'm going to eat pizza at 2 am. I'm going to fuck two different cocks and I'm not going to call them the next day. I'm going to sleep in the airport because I'm hungover.....then I'm going to deal with no consequences back in LA. Why? "Because New York's not my home" as Jim Croce once said. I don't belong there. That's not me. I'm going to use the city for what I want and sleep in my bed when I return with an incredible peace of mind. My conscience will be clear. I will feel no guilt. As it should be.

No need to fear that I'm on the path to destruction, decadence or (God forbid) drugs...it's all a measured release. I have a life to come back to. But I hope that this time, the renewal will last. My transformation will be uninterrupted as I wont be dealing with travel-mates that I need to worry about. I won't be judged. I won't be looked after. I won't have to please anyone or act like a lady. I won't have to fake it. I won't have to look over my shoulder and wonder what the others think. I will be completely on my own....er, except for the nights I will be sleeping with a different boy.

I broke the news of my visit to Jay a few days ago. Needless to say, he was ecstatic (no surprise there) and has sent me several texts about what he plans to do with me, for me and to me. He's a huge Deftones fan, the biggest one I know outside of the Southwest, and we've mentioned several times over the years how much we'd like to see them live, together. I seem to be making all of his dreams come true. Trust me, the sex is worth putting up with all his creepy texts....for example, here's one from like a week ago:

Pretty sure I'm gonna get my own hotel room, so as to avoid winding up in Jay's sex dungeon. 

Terry is excited. He agrees with my refocused goals and throws his full support:

"ha, well just put it this way...you dont owe anyone anything (that i know of) you dont have anyone to prove anything to, so you just do what you want. its the way to be happy."

Hedonism might be the theme of this whole trip. 

We've discussed at length what, if anything, we should say to Jay. I know we can't lie forever. Neither of us regret what we did, but we're not sure if telling Jay is the best course of action, at least not before I get there in person. It could very well break his heart. I also don't want to start trouble between best friends. And lastly, I don't want Jay to hate me and miss the concert. On this new personal voyage, I recognize that I'm not a completely heartless beast and I'm not here to ruin people's lives. I think Jay deserves the truth and my hope is that we will all sit down and discuss this like adults. I'm on a quest for myself, and it all might seem hugely selfish at times, but I have feelings too and I should still be mindful of others. My heart has softened for Jay, I will admit. He's owed the whole story. Maybe when he finds out I fucked Terry first and behind his back, he'll back off and not think I'm so perfect. Or maybe he'll come back for more. I don't know. All I know is I want to fuck one or both of them. Preferably both.

Am I kidding myself? Am I tricking myself into thinking that this mini-vacation is an escape and subsequent solution to my love-life problems? Maybe. But I need this. I want this. I crave change. Everything else I have tried has not worked. Following the "rules" has failed me. I'm miserable when I'm not moving around. I just want to be constantly thrown into new situations. I want to be distracted again. I want to forget about the ticking clock lodged in my heart and in my ovaries. Stuffing it with dick and false promises seems like a fun adventure. It feels good. It feels temporary. It feels real. My hopes and dreams can wait for a while. I just want to live in the now. I just want to take it all.