Wow. I met a normal guy. (well so far, normal)
Surfed all day today. Still distracting myself from Dr. Egypt. Talked online to a few guys. Funny and interesting. Interesting and funny.
The Highlights:
1 normal guy. cute. funny. actually very funny. (my favorite quality) I like
1 semi-normal guy. very funny, cute, dark dark past. Completely cool with a semi-self-depreciating humor. I like
1 goodlooking bodybuilder/movie critic. freakishly smart. cool. He said he'd explain the Matrix to me. I like
3 weird Egyptians *note to self to remove the word Egypt from my profile* Shivers
And one complete wack job from Rome. See I told you. He brought up anal sex in the first two minutes of our conversation. Major sex fiend. I kind of dug it in a sick way. His English is just a bit off though, so it's funny to see him talk about sex. He reminds me of my perv lawyer online friend from CA. Sick, but fun.
"I want to visit all your holes."
When I asked him if all Italians were that horny, he basically said that he hopes to stick his cock into something every single day. All I could think of was American Pie.
He eats pussy instead of breakfast. (um, I prefer oatmeal)
I think my holes and I will be firmly planted in the U.S.
I did have a last minute dinner with nice guy #1. He's too sweet for words. God help me, I sure hope he doesn't turn out to be a freak or phreak. He was incredibly nice. I'd like to hang out with him. He reminds me somehow of my dearest friends. Comforting, funny, and completely adorable.
I felt like a dork (wearing the most unattractive outfit no less, straight from work). I was a total dufus, shy and awkward. But mostly I looked like crapola and felt like a dork. We'll have to see where this goes. Regardless, he was very cool.
I want to meet nice, but dark, guy #2. I don't think there is much spark there (on his part), but he seems like the type of guy that I could hang out with. He's way too hilarious, and hella sexy, but he's emotionally distant. Again. Why am I attracted to this? In need of therapy.
[aside] Heidi Klum looks bad as a blonde. Dammit, I wish I cold look that bad just for a day.
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About a week ago I sent Dr. E a message to his hotmail. He actually replied last night. I forwarded the message to my office so I could analyze and re-analyze and actually re-re-analyze it. [insert "you suck big time" phrase here].
This is precisely the reason women are idiots sometimes.
*repeat after me - it's just a fucking email. It means nothing*
He said he missed me (missed, is that freudian). Shouldn't he have said misses (see, not past tense) me?
He said he was glad to hear from me and hopes to hear from me again soon. (yeah, but why didn't he contact me first? when will I hear from him again? dorkfus)
Not very intimate, and no mention of when he's coming back or if he's going to see me.
The original email I sent said he could be strange, but not to be a stranger. He said he's not that bad. Ok, what does that mean? Does he want to see me again? ongoing? long term? what the fuck does this mean?
Do I put my life on hold?
Do I really want to move on just yet?
Or is our relationship (or lack thereof) like a bad car wreck you can't stop looking at.
Tune in to the next installment of ....
I feel like a total asshole. I miss him and I am wanting for sex. I didn't fucking think about sex for three years, and now it's been like three weeks and I'm insane. I feel like a sex crackhead.
I got a male perspective on the email from another friend, Architect Boy. He said I need to cut my losses and take the out.
Lara (my coworker) always knows the best way to put things. She said it sounds like the typical postcard vacation bullshit. He has no emotional attachment to me because he knew from the beginning he'd be moving away. Cut my losses and take the out.
Lara is ALWAYS right. (This is why she rules.)
distract. distraction. play. distract. My lips need kissing, but they aren't ready yet. distract. distraction.
How come this all feels like one long job interview? I hate interviewing.
keep it moving people. there's nothing to look at.
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Get out the crackers, it's time for some cheese!!! In honor of distraction, it's bad poetry time. So skipit if you want to.
something in my old old journal. circa 1993
"Don't advertise your man."
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untitled 5 December 1993
Today is Sunday
It's beautiful outside
and I have the day off
There are so many choices
to make
as to what I should do today
So I choose to do nothing
I'm not sure what is going on
inside my head
so I stay inside
drinking coffee
and losing at solitare
I like my place
I hide here
and avoid
life outside
although I wish I had a friend
to talke me out somewhere today
Well, fuck it
I'm going outside
for a bike ride
Fuck that asshole boy
and his rules.
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Suggested alternate journal titles - Oct. 1995 @ 2:38am
Journal of the damned
Too many lovers
Kill the hook-nosed bitch
McBev and the BLT
None of your fucking business, a book of bad poems
Just a cup
I hate that fat fucker
Leaves could not be green enough
Texas sucks my ass
Juicy burger
For unlawful carnal knowledge
Repeat after me - sorry. sorry motherfucker
Can't I wait until after I'm dead to publish this
Kiss my ass, David Peterson, you sorry motherfucker from hell
Rot in hell till your nuts are roasted like blackened acorns
Deb, Queen of the Universe
Why don't you just... oh, fucking nevermind
Fill in the blank for all I fucking care
I think I'll round out my day and give blood
Now I know why Zoe said fuck at her first parent teacher conference.
------------------------
Austin. Early 90's
Untitled
Sitting here with my evening
topping off a glass of champagne
watching the ants eat the wood away from my door
and waiting
for nothing or no one in particular.
Looking at my right foot.
Who's the better tenor tonight,
Carraras or Domingo?
Another sip on my glass
and killing ants with my black pen.
Hopefully I'll get a nice drunk
and not notice the time.
Wishing for some scotch.
----------------------------
Austin. Mid 90's
Untitled (and last of the cheese, my only running poem ever, but dragged out in honor of 7,000 aka benorbeen )
Running.
Heart punching and hands swelling
I cannot see for the hair in my eyes
Dark in the dark
feet follow my mind tonight
and I can run forever
turning the key in my hand over and over
I pass the boys on the sidewalk
as they give me the thumbs up
she's in there
just rake the coals
now I shower in my darkness
spider dungeon
turning the soap over and over as I had the key
crying
making myself laugh
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Goodnight y'all. to Erik with a "K"