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MICHAEL

Last Updated:
Aug 18, 2008

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Gender: Male
Status: Single
Age: 27
Sign: Leo

City: BROOKLYN
State: New York
Country: US

Signup Date: 01/04/05

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August 11, 2008 - Monday

Date . 62 - Hot N Cold
Current mood: hot
Category: Romance and Relationships

I personally believe that when you make something that's supposed to be hot, then you should enjoy it when it's relatively - hot. The same goes for something meant to be cold or chilled. It just isn't the same when it's somewhere in between. No one advertises things such as "Try our lukewarm Bud Light" or "Come taste our room temperature soup" because they wouldn't taste good, and frankly because it's gross. As hard working and picky Americans go, we wouldn't accept this. Then please tell me that as hard working picky Americans go, why do we accept the PEOPLE that make it a mission to float between hot and cold? You know who I'm talking about. You know exactly who I'm talking about. The types of people that are so HOT for you at first and days later turns into a brisk CHILL only to be followed by that spark of warmth some time again afterward. What the fuck man!? It's like pick a side. You just wanna grab the person and yell "which is it? huh? do you want me or don't you?" Am I right? I say this now: Beware. Beware these indecisive people because in the end, you're only gonna get burnt or frost bitten.
 
"Luciano", Date 62, apparently was a member of this Hot N Cold Clan and at the time I didn't know it nor was I looking for the signs because I was so infatuated with him. We had met online and my first thought of him was 'wow he's hot' so I was a little skeptical when he wanted to hang out immediately, like right then and there. I felt like if we did, it was going to turn into a hook up. Normally I would have declined the immediate invitation but because I was so attracted to him, I said what the fuck. So he came over and the physical attraction was apparent and obvious. He was tall, very tall, with a great solid worked out build and big muscular arms. He was all Italian with dark hair, olive tanned skin, and a great silly grin. I couldn't explain my type better on paper. I was a little shy and awkward at first which is rare because I'm never shy unless I'm a slightly intimidated, and I was because here was this hot guy sitting on my couch telling me about himself. Turned out, we went to the same high school! Luciano was a year behind me. Now he was in medical school going to be a doctor of Neurology. Not only was he hot, he was smart too!
 
Of course we made out heavily (that was a given and the kid wasn't leaving unless we did) but as cliched as the hook up that I thought was going to happen, didn't. Instead we just talked for hours and hours (in between the making out) and it then that I honestly thought Luciano was a genuinely nice guy. He wasn't conceited nor possessed the outrageous cynical gay traits that you've seen time and time again. He was different. He was neighborhood different if you know what I mean. We were able to relate to each other. I knew the moment that he left I was going to be hooked and immediately thought that was bad. I normally only like 1 or 2 guys a year probably, and when I do, I can get crazy. I start analyzing things, overanalyzing them again, and constructing and reconstructing issues and problems that may or may not even be there. I knew that this Luciano kid was eventually going to destroy me over the next few weeks in pure worrisome alone. When he was leaving my apartment and was standing at my door, I  had joked with him and said "I bet I'll be on your mind tomorrow". And I knew it was going to be the truth, on my end at least. The night had gone so well, really well, that I couldn't imagine us not getting together again. I think we were pleasantly surprised on both our parts. The next morning at 10:51am, I got an email from him that said "i guess you were right........ you're on my mind ;-) ". I knew things were about to get hot.
 
When he texted me the next day explaining that he couldn't hang out again that night because he had to study for an upcoming important medical test, I was slightly disappointed but happy that he texted me on his own without having me to initiate the conversation. I also understood that he wasn't going to be easily available with this test coming up. I was determined to weather through it. We hung out once more a few nights later and again like last time, it was amazing. We spent hours and hours just talking and kissing, it was one of the few times where being half naked and not having sex felt great. It felt so comfortable because Luciano seemed as into me as I did him which at the same time was sort of scary for me. Besides being physically attracted to each other, we had a lot of things to relate to, high school being one of them. We were both pretty much from around the same area, both Italian, and both gay. Needless to say, the conversation was fluid. No pun intended.
 
Then things started to get cold.
 
The lines of communication seemed to fade. No texts, emails, calls, etc. And if I communicated first, it was hours later that my message was returned. Cold. I knew that this test he was studying for was making him insane and I truly sympathized with him, but, come on, not even a single text in days? That's when I started wondering - does he like me? was it just a fling? I was driving myself crazy (and my friend Danielle for that matter). I just couldn't understand how he could just turn from hot to cold like that in a matter of days with no real form of explanation. And to add more confusion to the already puzzling situation, nearly a week later without hearing from him at all, he decides to text me saying that he's "thinking about me"! Can you say bi-polar? But no, I even gave him the benefit of the doubt. I waited until his test was over to see if he would want to hang out again, that way all his studying would be done and he would be available again. I knew it was very important for him to pass so I made sure I wasn't a distraction. Now the test was over and he had run out of excuses. Sadly, my phone never rang, my mailbox never received any emails, and no text messages were sent. Apparently we were done. The funny thing is, I would have been fine if I knew off the bat that he wasn't into me as I was him, but he had me extremely confused by his lukewarm tones and reception. I mean, talk about being on a roller coaster. He wants me, then he doesn't, he wants me again, then he doesn't.
 
People like this drive me crazy! First they're hot, then they're cold. Then they want to, then they don't. First they say yes, and then immediately say no. They don't want to be around you, but can't wait to kiss you. You say too much, they don't say enough. They don't want to stay, but they don't want to go... Dating is hard as it is without trying to decode every single freaking action a potential suitor makes all the while making me just want to jump up and scream MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND!! Ugh.
 
I harbor no ill feelings for Luciano. Maybe he really is that busy and it's fine. I had fun the times we hung out. I just wish he would have executed his intentions better. I've been the person who has given off hot and cold signals before and now being a recipient of it too, it really does suck, so I'll practice what I preach and make sure I'm clear in my actions. I just think that playing the Hot N Cold card just causes needless confusion in an already confusing task. No one likes to be toyed with. It's even worse when the person starts off hot and heavy with you only to give the cold shoulder not much later. You think to yourself - is it me? No people, it's not you, ok. Listen to me and take my advice - IT'S NOT YOU. These Hot N Cold people are probably indecisive in their every day lives from what they are going to wear each morning down to the food they eat for dinner. Choosing someone to date is just as much as a big decision to them as picking out which ice cream flavor they want. And some people are just plain finicky. I know I played my cards right. I did everything you're supposed to do when you like someone without being smothering or overbearing and I knew when to step away when I saw that things weren't going in my favor. He just happened to beat me at my own game.
 
So if I only say one thing it's this: if you come across someone who's giving you the Hot N Cold runaround, sit them down and say: "what's the deal man cause this shit is annoying me". They'll either be impressed by your courage or scared by your forwardness. Either way you'll get your answer. But a word of advice  - if a person runs between hot and cold when they're with you - chances are, they aren't the right person for you anyway, because the person who you end up with - will never ever... go cold. Case closed.
 
Question 62 -
When it comes to dating and the signals we give and receive, do you think it's ok to change our mind as often as we change our underwear?

Currently listening :
Hot 'N' Cold
By Ray Condo & His Hardrock Goners

3:09 AM - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

July 26, 2008 - Saturday

Date . 61 - Simple
Current mood: pure
Category: Romance and Relationships

I wish it were so simple. Everything. Simplicity. Can you imagine a world where everything was so simple to obtain, achieve, and create? Wouldn't that be great? Difficult hurdles would be gone, mixed signals would evaporate, making money would be easy, and life would be a breeze. Or is it the opposite? Would it make life boring and stale if everything came too steadily? If everyone got what they wanted with the slightest ease, would our world become more corrupt than it already is? One of the great wonders of life is that we'll never know. Tasks remain to be difficult, people will continue to throw out mixed signals, money will still be scarce, and life is anything but a breeze.
 
My career is anything but simple. One particular script I wrote called "For Your Information", a dark comedy about a sex addict in NY, was on the market for over a year with no apparent buyers. Recently a studio has purchased it with interest in making it. Simple? I think not. They're thinking of a small release which is fine but it's the amount of changes and edits to my script that the producers are throwing down to me that is the most trying. How can a movie about a sex addict not have a lot of sex in it? Then I'm told that they're going to Ryan Gosling's people for the lead role. I personally saw Gael Bernal Garcia but of course I have no control in that, and Ryan Gosling will have to do if they can get him. Between that and the several contracts by myself and entertainment lawyers, I sometimes wonder if all my passion is worth it. If it's green lit and made that's fine and dandy, but it's that big chunk of a paycheck that I'm looking forward to at the end of the day, and that's the most simple part about it.
 
Besides work, my love life is far from simple and if you've read all 60 dates up until this point you can agree. But that's the thing, should dating be simple? Doesn't everyone love the game and the chase when you first meet someone? I personally can't stand it, I'm more of a "do you like me, yes you do, let's move forward" kind of guy. But some people really enjoy the chase in dating and the game it represents. And of course some people are just big fat cocks and make dating seem like hell for others. To me the chase is fine, it's the blurred line in between of the 'do ya like me, are ya into me' jig dance we all do when we first meet someone that can be irritating. Back in 3rd grade when hitting someone meant that you liked them, what does that say for us as a species when we're still doing the same thing as adults with just better techniques?
 
As I stated in the previous entry, I met "Mack", Date 61, at the Pride Parade when my obnoxious friend Evan practically pulled me over to meet him after I mentioned to my friends that I thought he was cute. From there we chatted a bit, exchanged numbers, texted the rest of the night, and made plans for the next day for dinner. I work quick, I know. Turns out Mack works as a producer for The Ellen Show. I seriously love Ellen (almost as much as Chelsea Handler) and I hadn't been this excited since the time I slept with the top head spokesperson for Universal Pictures. The trouble with Mack was, if he worked for the The Ellen Show... then he lived in LA. Of course he did. Like I said, I wish it were so simple. He was originally from NY, got into entertainment here, and ended up moving to LA a couple of years ago. He was on vacation as the show was on hiatus and was visiting friends and family here in NY. Lovely. So regardless of his zip code I made the date with him anyway because honestly I wasn't doing anything the next night, so why not?
 
The next night we met at the restaurant and I have to say, I was bit surprised when he came towards me in the bright sun of day. The night before we had met in the dark depths of hell aka "the locker room" of  the basement of Gym Bar, and though I thought he was cute then, it was still very dark. When he approached me the next day and I got a good sunshine look, he was a bit more rounder than I previously remembered. Not fat or anything, just rounder. Stocky I guess, if that's what the kid's are calling it. His hair was also shaved in that "i'm balding" sense. He was also 34 so all this was to be expected but I still was slightly taken back. But nonetheless he was still cute and to my surprise, the dinner was great! We had a lot fun talking and getting to know one another. He liked the same television and movies as I did, had the same common interests, he even ended up knowing mutual friends. He even kissed me goodnight. Honestly, it was a very nice date with someone who normally wouldn't physically be my type. I definitely would have continued to see him again - the only problem? He didn't live here. Of course! Why would anything be so simple?
 
I took the date for what it was - a great night out with someone really awesome. I obviously couldn't harp on the situation or try to make something work when it shouldn't (we all know long distance doesn't work, don't fool yourself.) so I mentally filed the date as a "friend" and went about my life. Now if Mack ever moved back to NY, who knows what would happen. I always take things with a grain of salt so for now, I can look back at the date and think 'wow, there really are some nice guys in this world'. But if it were the opposite and Mack turned out to be the biggest asshole known to man and the date a disaster, he would have lived like 5 blocks away from me because that's my luck. Meet a nice guy you like, he lives 700 miles away, meet someone you despise, he lives right by you and you see him every day. Typical.
 
But alas, the act of dating could be so easy, if we wanted it to. If everyone was just honest and respected one another, dating could be enjoyable for everyone and not the horror show it is for some. There are no quick fixes or easy steps when it comes to life and dating is no different. You should really care for your love life as you do your work life or even your social life. They go hand in hand and when you excel in one but lack in another, you can really screw up your equilibrium. So in life, dating is like any other standardized test we take, we study hard, feed our mind, sleep well, and pray to God that we pass. Life should be that simple.
 
Question 61 -
Simple: When it comes to dating; do you prefer to work for your meal, or have it easily handed to you?

Currently listening :
Keep It Simple
By Van Morrison
Release date: 2008-04-01

7:51 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

July 6, 2008 - Sunday

Reflections: Dates 51 Through 60 - Pride Style
Current mood: bitchy
Category: Romance and Relationships

And then there was 60. I could sit here and say how shocked I am that I've gotten this far but I was beyond surprised when I reached up to 40. Everything beyond that is gravy. With my goal of 80 vastly approaching and no decision whether I'll take it further, it's all been a blur to me. While I'll end up probably surpassing 80 and stop when I have a reason to, nothing is set in stone and I've very much enjoyed the feedback and comments I get from my peers. After all, we're all in this together, right? As I sit back and watch the love lives of my friends build or crumble, it's astonishing to see it unravel: who's LTR diminished (Joe), who's getting married (both Karen and Rosanna) and who is just about to have a baby (Jeno). Who just got dumped (Alex), who's madly in love (Danny and Jane), who doesn't give a shit one way or another (Chrissy), and who complains about being single forever (Danielle). See, my friends have the same problems as you do.  
 
Last weekend my friends and I decided to do the Pride thing. Now normally I would have protested because I usually hate crowds and especially since I knew it was going to be hot, but being that I haven't ventured back out in the Pride festivities in about 2 years, it was about time I got back onto the saddle and give myself something to complain about. The surprising result: I had a blast. Now for all you straight people, NYC Pride is this huge fucking deal to the homosexuals living in this city. An estimated 1 million to 3 million attend each year from all parts of the world. Personally I hate the parade, you see it once, you're done for life. It's repetitive every year. It's the bars afterwards that's where it's at. They all open very early, anticipating Pride rush and soon they are all packed with drunk homos looking for someone to mack on. That's all Pride is, you know. It's a giant bar where your chances of meeting someone are way better than a normal weekend. So why not take advantage of it? Be prepared though: you WILL run into people you know, slept with, hate, dated, and/or all of the above.
 
Let's see: during the 15 minute glimpse we got of the parade, I saw my very first ex-boyfriend marching with the gay Continental Airlines crowd. When I yelled for him and he spotted me, he came rushing over to greet me and explain that his friend works for the company and that's why he was in it. For the 15 seconds that we spoke I got fuzzy feelings. I hadn't seen him in a while though we do talk now and then. My friend Joe quickly snapped me out of it when he told me how much of a ho bag he used to be. He was my first and we dated on and off for many years. My heart still goes pitter patter.
 
Then at the bar XES, while I was getting eye stares, groped, and hellos from random boys, apparently there were people there that I had never met but recognized me from my blog and/or other gay sites. The brave ones poked me and said hello, trying to muster up a small conversation, and the shy ones just stared from a far. One even said "i know you" as he walked past me. I quickly walked the other way.
 
At G it was PACKED. And when I say packed, I'm talking 'sweaty, stepping on toes, can't move, tell me how to breathe with no air' kind of packed. They even had a little outside joint for the cancer stick smokers that was attached to their front window. There I saw, let's call him, "Seamus". Seamus was this hot guy from Connexion that has been trying to get with me for a while. I admit he's super cute and has an amazing body but the personality is a little wooden. We mostly just play email tag with no real intentions of hanging out but he had to say hello once he was me in person. It was awkward in such a setting but we chatted, smiled, flirted. Then I found out that my best friend Joe slept with him and that was the end of that. Ba-dump-bah.
 
Apparently "Jairo" from Date 58 "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" is friends with Seamus and just how I didn't know that Joe slept with Seamus, I didn't know Seamus was friends with Jairo either. Jairo spotted me and gave me a soft little child wave. If I could, I would have spit in his face but he was too far and I was way too winded and sweaty to attempt such a feat.
 
After G we went to Gym Bar which was just as crowded. Now I fucking hate Gym Bar because it's a bunch of old muscle men trying to retain their "straightness" by going to a gay sports bar but we all know they're just looking for cock. Please, who are they fooling? But because no one wanted to go to Barracuda with me, I had no choice but to join the fun. Gym Bar also apparently now has a downstairs called "The Locker Room", yes gag, cause I did. Now it was air condition heaven down there but the downside was it was pretty dark. It was there that I spotted a guy that I thought was kind of cute. He was balding a bit but still handsome and I told my friends so. Well news spread like herpes and my friend Evan got wind of the info and actually went up to the guy, told him, and then dragged me to meet him. I was mortified. But still, the job was done and me and the guy, "Mack" talked for a bit and exchanged numbers. He was from LA and visiting for the month. Sucky I know, but I still got his number.
 
Then we went to the diner to eat and reflect on our great sweaty gay fun. Mack and I texted each other all night and he persuaded me to have dinner the next day. I did and you will have to wait until the very next entry to find out what happened with that. All in all it was great fun and a perfect way to meet someone. In fact I believe every single one of us who wasn't already dating someone ending up getting a number. I mean if you can't score a phone number during the Pride Parade, then I say you have some brushing up to do.
 
Without further delay: Reflections.
 
Date 51: "Heartache For The Heartless": I pined over Reed for a while. It just wasn't the right time. He was too busy and never around and I couldn't wait forever. It was then that I pondered whether being heartless outweighed having a heart.
 
Verdict: After 6 months of no communication, Reed actually emailed this week and said and I quote "Bensonhurst how the fuck have you been? I haven't talked to you in a long long time. What's going on, my friend?" Of course I wrote back something witty about him sleeping over and he quickly accepted. So who knows what the hell will happen.
 
Date 52: "Panic! Air! Feels Good To Be Free!": Ah dear ol' Carmine who nearly smothered me to death after less than a month of dating. Even if he wasn't so eager I'm not sure it would have lasted. Bad breath aside, I think he annoyed me more than he interested me.
 
Verdict: He came creeping up this week asking about life and stuff. When he asked to see me again I told him I was seeing someone. He backed off. I win again.
 
Date 53: "The Person In Your Bed Before Me": Jaden was a nice guy and he was genuinely into me and I think that if we would have continued dating, he would have fallen for me. Sometimes I wonder if he hadn't been in such a long relationship prior to me if we would be in a relationship. I think not.
 
Verdict: He emails me every so often and though I try not to be cold or anything, I don't want him to think I'm interested again.
 
Date 54: "How To Lose A Guy In 16 Emails": One word: Asshole.
 
Verdict: Three words: Still An Asshole.
 
Date 55: "SickO": The Guido from NJ that followed me to my job as I vomited my dinner from the medication I was taking to cure Bronchitis. Reread that last sentence again. How could that ever work out??
 
Verdict: After I didn't show him the interest he required, he quickly stopped calling me, erased my number, erased me on myspace and pretended I didn't exist. Months later he tried to kick it to my best friend Joe until I spilled the beans and Joe nipped that in the bud.
 
Date 56: "Hell Hath No Fury": Reread that blog and you'll know why I hate this fucking kid.
 
Verdict: I haven't seen nor spoke to this jackass since that time we hung out. I'm better off.
 
Date 57: "Feast or Famine": I actually liked this guy but he was put off by either the amount of men that approached me at the bar we went to after dinner, or he just simply didn't like me. Either way, he never gave me a reason why he never called me again. Ideas??
 
Verdict: Haven't seen, spoke, or read an email from him since that one date we went on. Apparently I got played like a deck of cards.
 
Date 58: "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For": Another kid that never called me after our semi short date. Jairo seemed real interested in me but then never contacted me again. What gives? Maybe he was just a really good actor.
 
Verdict: Aside from that wimpy child wave at Pride, haven't seen him since.
 
Date 59: "The Roach": The Australian Roach Boy who mistook my politeness for interest and came home with me expecting us to get down to business. He still creeps me out to this day just thinking about him.
 
Verdict: I think he's back in Australia. So help me God.
 
Date 60: "Date By Numbers": My friend "G" never did hear back from that guy who basically called her a slut right there at the dinner table on the first date. Leaving him stranded there was priceless.
 
Verdict: Anyone know of any single goodlooking thirtysomething guys for my friend G??

Currently listening :
Early Reflections
By The Bennie Maupin Quartet
Release date: 2008-04-22

8:16 AM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

June 30, 2008 - Monday

Date . 60 - Date By Numbers
Current mood: exotic
Category: Romance and Relationships

So we all follow a certain pattern when we date, right? We shower, pamper our bodies, and dress ourselves up to "go out" with friends, but we're really secretly hoping to meet somebody at the crowded bars and lounges we inhabit in our social friendly rendezvous. Then, on the rare occasion where you do meet someone and it goes beyond that night, the dating begins. But something usually happens: he's too clingy, he's not emotionally available, he never calls back, etc. and soon you find yourself back to square one of: showering, pampering your body, and going back out with your friends to do this process all over again. How many times can we keep doing this? When does the monotony stop and the numbers begin to add up? When does the cycle of dating come to an ugly abrupt halt and the self realization begins to sink in: how many dates is too many? Welcome to Dating By Numbers.
 
So I did the whole date thing: I met "Jay", Date 60, on Manhunt of all places. We connected and made plans to hang out. I was doing happy hour at Splash with a bunch of my friends and he was going to come along and hang out. Long story short, he wasn't my type physically and he had breath that could reanimate a corpse. I'm serious, the kid ate skunk for dinner. Horse shit breath wasn't the word. I got an earful from my friends that night and blah blah blah, that's not what this entry is about. I decided to do something a little differently this time around. Since my date was so lackluster, I'm going talk about a dating experience of a friend of mine that went horribly wrong.
 
My friend "G", is an attractive Kindergarten teacher from Staten Island who like all the rest of us, has had some trouble meeting a decent guy. She took a gamble and decided to try eHarmony to see what all the fuss was about. She was a skeptic at first, but after meeting a nice good looking  guy, she was won over. The guy, let's call him "Tim", seemed to have the whole package. He was handsome, smart, had a good job, and G was excited when they planned their first date. But of course she was blind to the signs. Here was a 30something year old man who had all these pros about him and why he was still single again? There had to be something wrong with him. Damaged goods at least.
 
So Tim came to Staten Island from Manhattan like the gentleman that he was and he and G had a wonderful dinner. The conversation was nice, they joked, flirted, G really thought there was some potential... that is until he asked:
 
"So, "G", how many men have you slept with?"
 
She froze. Did he really just ask me that, she thought. How dare a man ask that, especially on a first date. A first date is a time where you get to know each other on a thin level. You flirt and ask airy questions about common interests, or friends, family, and work even, but you never talk about your ex boyfriends on a first date, and more importantly, you never ever ask about someone's sex life either. G was flabbergasted. She politely told him that it was an inappropriate question on their first meeting and she decided to continue on as if he had never asked it. Again the conversation went smoothly, they talked about other things, and 20 minutes later G had forgotten about it. But Tim was fidgety in his seat, something was bothering him so he had to ask:
 
"I would really like to know how many men you've slept with because I don't wanna be dating a slut."
 
She literally spit red wine out of her mouth like in a movie. Not only was she shocked, she was appalled. Was he already judging her from an hour of table talk? Who the hell did this guy think he was? This is what you ask a woman you take out for dinner in hopes that something romantic would occur in the future? G scolded him for his indecent behavior and excused herself to the ladies room to clean the red wine off of her skirt. She was so angry and annoyed that she did something even better. SHE LEFT. Yes, she literally left the restaurant. She left him with the check and left him stranded on Staten Island. This was 2 weeks ago and until this day she never knew what became of him because she refused to answer his calls and deleted all his messages. Ta Dah!
 
This is where the lines of dating become blurry. So obviously this Tim guy was out of line when he asked for G's sex number on the first date, but when is the appropriate time to ask that question, and do you even ask it at all? Sex is such a tricky subject when it comes to dating. Some people are having it, some people aren't, and some people have too much of it. It's hard to define yourself to one category without labeling yourself a whore or a Mother Teresa. But really, what number is the right number? How do you satisfy your partner's curiosity of your sexual past without making yourself look like Jenna Jameson?

And that's the real dilemma: when it comes to dating and your sexual number, how high is too high and how low is too low? I personally would never ask someone about their sexual past because once you know the answer, you will never get that out of your head and it will taint the perfect boyfriend portrait you have in your mind. A perfect example of this is from the movie, "Chasing Amy", where Ben Affleck's character, Holden, is dating Joey Lauren Adams', Alyssa, who up until that point, was a lesbian. Once it's revealed that she had a dirty threesome with 2 loser guys in high school, Holden can't handle it. It doesn't matter to him how many women she had been with before him, but because she had a pornolicious encounter with 2 men more than 10 years ago, she's no longer that "girl" he thought she was and it ultimately destroyed their relationship. So what do we do? Do we ignore that part of our lover's past and pretend that you are the first person to rock their world? Generally, that's how it should be but you know that's never how it turns out. We get curious. We want to know the things your partner did before you. Was the sex better? Was it worse?
 
I have been asked this question a couple of times in my life and it always makes me uncomfortable. Not because I think I'm a ho or anything, but I don't want to disappoint the person. The image they have in their mind of me will immediately change the moment I give a number. If it's too high for them they will feel sick, if it's too low they will think I'm a prude or inexperienced. It's an absolute no win situation so it's easier to plead the 5th. Of course the lack of an answer will probably make you look bad anyway but at least you'll saving yourself a bigger issue down the line.
 
So in a society that is so drenched in sex and sexuality, the bigger question is: are we all sluts? We go out, meet someone, date them, sleep with them, and when it doesn't work out we do the same thing all over again with another person until someone finally sticks. Again the numbers keep adding up. Just because you're with your boyfriend for 5 years doesn't mean the 100 guys you slept until you found him doesn't count. It's the nature of the beast and something we have to deal with if we want to date to find a mate in this world. No one's shiny and new and no one's ever going to be the first at anything anymore. Until we learn to accept this and live our lives with the gratefulness of 'today' and not obsess so much about the 'yesterday', we will forever be dating by numbers.
 
Question 60 -
What number is the right number?

Currently listening :
Power in Numbers
By Jurassic 5
Release date: 2002-10-08

5:36 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

June 8, 2008 - Sunday

Date . 59 - The Roach
Current mood: bummed
Category: Romance and Relationships

The Cockroach. The Roach is a symbol of our humanity. No matter the ratio of people in this world, we are always out numbered by these pesky disease ridden vermin. This species has been around since the dawn of time and will probably be the only living organism to survive the end of the world. They feed off our scraps and shield themselves from light where they roam about free in the midst of darkness. With a brain the size of a speck of lint, they are surprisingly very intelligent for such vile creatures. That is of course until you step on them. What Gulliver's Travels we must be them. But as I speak of these small slithering insects, don't be fooled, there is a large vast population of our own species that are just as comparable if not downright similar to these prehistoric animals. Human beings can be just as swift, just as slimy, and just as small as the pests that hide in the crevices of our walls.

 
Let me just tell you that the business world is not for me, thus far anyway. As I stated in the last entry, I had decided to go into the business world with my family's company - well, a month later and I'm already knackered! Working six days a week and trying to round about an extensive travel schedule is very time consuming and tiresome, not to mention running a couple of corporate stores every night as well. If I get my way in the next few weeks I may leave the business world all together. I have, and count 'em - not one, not two, not three, but six different scripts going for a possible deal with a studio this summer. If they pan out and my other work with Sundance continues, I will say ciao to the business world forever. What's good for the goose may not always be good for the gander. I bring this up because my lack of time has sort of diminished a way to meet some decent guys for potentials dates. I try to go out with my friends on the weekend but it gets tough with the days in between and when I do meet someone, it's never just gravy. There's always something. For example, getting back to my Roach introduction, I met "Patrick" Date 59 on facebook of all places. I hate that damn site but a mutual friend of ours thought it would be nice if we started chatting because she thought we would have a lot in common. Apparently she doesn't know me well.
 
Patrick was my age and was from Australia living here on a work visa for the fashion world. We chatted on facebook and did the whole back and forth exchange and we even talked on the phone. I was skeptical at first because I couldn't really tell if he was my type or not, his pictures were sort of funny or limited, I only agreed to meet up with him because his accent was too cute and I'm sucker for the Brits and the Aussies. So we planned a date for a Thursday evening right after my Writer's Workshop. I'm always exhausted after that three hour course so I was a little afraid about what he wanted to do. He suggested to go eat and that was fine. A little grub and convo and I was in. He said he would wait on the corner for me after I got out and that's exactly where he was when I met him. To my surprise there he was - a small, pink looking man, with reddish brown hair and a beard. His face was pointy and his body thin, like rail thin. He was wearing a leather jacket with some sort of beads hanging off of it. He had on skin tight black pants, so skin tight that his bulge was apparent and he accompanied this look with cowboy boots. His eyes were beady and tiny and he had a funny smile as he opened his mouth to greet me. Oh my God. Here I was on the corner of 23rd and 3rd, and I have just met a real life living - ROACH.
 
Think Ben from "Lost". He looked so bug-like, so small, like he would have been able to fit in any crevice or hole available to him. He had this Roach quality to him, it's weird. You ever see someone on the street and you think to yourself "wow, she looks like a bird", or "he has a horse face", that's what it was like with Patrick, except like you know, with a bug. To be fair he wasn't ugly, he just wasn't my type whatsoever. I'm a bit conservative at times and this guy was definitely setting off the fire alarm. But what to do? How do I get out of this? How do I ever so politely tell this man to go home and that nothing will never happen ever? I wanted to go eat as fast as possible so I could go home but get this - he decided that he didn't want to go eat anymore! I was confused, what did he want to do then? If he thought I was going bar hopping he had another thing coming to him. It was already after 10pm and I was exhausted from my workshop, if he didn't want to go eat I wanted to go home and I told him that to. Then he said he didn't mind coming back to Brooklyn with me. Yes, this Roach-like boy had inadvertently thought my wanting to go home was an invitation for him to join me!  When I explained to him that it was a bit of a ride and I lived in more a suburbish area of Brooklyn, he didn't care and still wanted to come. This guy wanted to come to Bensonhurst with me. Could you imagine? What the fuck was I gonna do? What if some of my Guido neighbors saw us? I'm not rude so I said "sure" and he came back with me.
 
On the train I couldn't have acted tired more. Seriously, I should get an Oscar. I yawned, closed my eyes, slept a little, did the whole exhausted bit so he would get the hint but no, he kept on trudging. I wasn't sure what he was getting at because though I was polite, I wasn't giving him the wrong idea and leading him on, or maybe allowing him to come to Brooklyn was, I dunno, but I definitely wasn't giving him any sparks. We got back to my apartment and he stood with me in the kitchen and talked about his life in Australia while I ate something. He was telling me about how he lived in Poland and dated a famous male pop star there for a while but he hated it because they had to live in severe secrecy. This would have been interesting and all but honestly, I just didn't care because I wanted him out of my apartment asap without looking like the biggest cock in the whole wide world. The conversation was then brought into my living room where I laid down and chatted some more. I had a feeling this was about to turn down a dark route. It hit me. It was after 11pm, we were both men alone in an apartment - this guy thinks I brought him home to have sex with him. And sure enough, he started to get impatient with our banter and he said "so what's the deal with you, mate? 'cause I'd really like to have sex with you right now". I kid you not. THEN, if I wasn't already choking on my own saliva from shock, he pulled off his shirt revealing his tiny skinny roach body, AND placed his hand on my chest and crotch. Apparently not only did this man look like a Roach, with his slimy come on, he embodied one as well.
 
Immediately I jumped up and told him nothing was going to happen. As he looked at me with little beady eyes, it was there that I saw it - rejection. Rejection in his eyes mixed with fear and disappointment. As much as I can be a dick, deep down I'm really not, I just want everyone to like me. So I lied. I lied and told him that I was too exhausted from my night to have any fun and that I would probably fall asleep on him. Sometimes you just need to sugarcoat your true meaning to spare the feelings of others. What would I have gotten out of if I told him he wasn't my type after I let him come all the way to Brooklyn with me? Whether he bought it or not he put his shirt back on and proceeded to leave as we both had work the next morning. This was a date that went nowhere. Why he thought this was a sex date was beyond me because we had never even mentioned sex in any of our conversations. But he trekked on his way home, promising to hang out again (we never did) and that was that. I was actually wide awake after he left and ate some pizza as I watched a DVR'd Project Runway.
 
There's no moral or meaning behind this date. This was just one incident that probably should have been nipped in the bud when we first met up. I honestly truly never believed he would have come to my apartment after he declined dinner that I asked to go get. In a way I was sort of hoping that he wasn't into me either. Telling someone no is never an easy feat. This happens to me in bars all the time. Guys come over who I have no desire for and it's hard to break away from them because 1) you don't want to be rude or act like you're mocking or better than them and 2) because by talking with them you don't want them to think you're interested. It's a hard process all in all. No one said dating was going to be easy but no one said how difficult it truly is. Besides all the failed relationships and broken hearts, bruised egos, STDs, unfaithful lovers, and just plain rude callous people, it's a battle that you automatically start off on the losing side. But just remember that when all is said and done and we're no longer on this earth, the cockroach will reign forever.
 
Question  59 -
When approached by someone you don't care for, is it easy or difficult for you to get away from them?

Currently listening :
Infest
By Papa Roach
Release date: 2000-04-25

4:17 AM - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

May 3, 2008 - Saturday

Date . 58 - I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For
Current mood: curious
Category: Romance and Relationships

I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through fields
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
Only to be with you
 
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
 
 
And I'm back. I apologize for the delay in updating it's just been a wacky busy couple of weeks for me. Besides doing some work for Sundance, I finished a new creepy script about a small town that goes crazy in South Carolina, and then I started circulating some festivals which was a task in itself. I also began helping a close friend of mine that just started shooting a movie that she wrote that's in Austin, Texas starring Heather Graham so it's been a bit of wild ride. Next up I'm starting a new feature of an updated version of Pinocchio about a transsexual who wants nothing more but to be a real girl! That will be some pretty hefty writing, heh. But aside from that I'm also in the midst of choosing a whole new path in my life, work wise. I've decided to leave my full time gig at the television commercial advertising joint to join my family's business. I know I know, I know what you're thinking. My sister has finally wore me down.
 
Though writing and film are my life (and they absolutely still will be) I think I may want to try my hand at the business side of life as well as writing. My family owns an entire soup franchise called Soup Man and my family's business partner is the man that Seinfeld made that Soup Nazi episode after (and for the record, yes, he is that mean). With over 50 stores in the US and Canada alone, I would have to do a lot of traveling and keeping track of every last cent. Tedious indeed but more money for me as well as a free car, blackberry, and lap top so the perks are good. How this will affect my dating life has yet to be foreseen. Of course if I end up shooting one of my scripts I will no doubt quit the family biz all together. I'm not that nice.
 
Now getting back down to the point of real business - the quote above we're all familiar with, correct? It's from the U2 song "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and it was this very song that got me thinking about dating and life in general. It happened to play randomly on my iPod stereo as I was cleaning my apartment and I actually thought about the meaning of the words as I sang them. That's when I starting thinking about my dating record. I've been on 57 dates thus far and I'm no where closer to meeting someone I'd like to settle down with than I was when I started this two and a half years ago. So what gives? What am I possibly looking for that I'm not getting? Or what am I not giving others that make the ones I do end up liking go away? I don't expect an answer, it's sort of a trick question.
 
So "Jairo", Date 58, came about in a funny coincidence sort of way. He had messaged me about a month ago on Match.com but I no longer subscribed to it after disappointing results (see Date 54 - How To Lose A Guy in 16 Emails) but for some reason the site keeps your profile up and lets you know when you receive a message but won't allow you to read it unless you sign up again. Well I was able to read his profile and I thought he was adorable but hell no was I gonna sign back up for that shit. Fifty bucks for what? For people I'm not interested in to continuously "wink" at me. Uh uh, no way. And so I forgot about it. That is until about a month later I saw him on Connexion which is very free and I was able to email him on that. It's funny how things have a way of working out, don't ya think? I was excited to hang out with him too because he seemed pretty cool and he was really cute. He was Cuban, originally from Miami and moved to NYC over a year or so ago. We made a coffee date.
 
It was to be a quick one because we both had prior plans but we wanted to meet up. We did and instead of going for coffee we went to a diner so he could have a snack. The company was good and he was very chatty and warm. I found him attractive also (though I couldn't tell if he had a large faint scar on the right side of his face or if it was from teen years of bad acne skin) and he had a nicely toned body. I mean the date lasted a total of an hour and 20 minutes so I really can't say much about the guy but for what it's worth it was a nice hour and 20 minutes. But it wasn't so much the date itself that had the wheels in my head turning. I couldn't help but wonder if this was what I was looking for. Was he what I was looking for? That's a lot of pressure to put on someone, to be your whole ideal listing of what you desire and it's no wonder why we as a species have trouble in relationships. Is it possible to actually meet someone and know that they automatically fit the criteria of the person you should be dating?
 
As of now nothing came of Jairo and I after that one date besides a few text messages here and there between us. That's fine, it's just another failed date to add to the tally. But how long until I find what I'm looking for? And will I know it when it when I see it? And will I be satisfied once I've found it? Probably not. I have a genuine fear that I will never find what I'm looking for, that maybe it doesn't exist at all and I'll continuously sleepwalk my way through life pretending to feel something, pretending to be in love. I also don't want to find something that I think is what I want only to discover down the line that it wasn't what I was searching for to begin with. It truly is a double-edge sword.
 
I don't think anyone knows what they're looking for, not entirely. At least I don't. I can only hope and pray that when it does cross my path I'm able to recognize it. I don't want to climb mountains and run through fields for someone as the song suggests, only to find out they really weren't the one for me. I want to be sure. I want to know. And unfortunately that's the most scariest aspect of dating. The unknown. 
 
I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through fields
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
Only to be with you
 
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for...
 
Question 58:
At some point in your life, did you find what you were looking for? 

12:48 AM - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

March 21, 2008 - Friday

Date . 57 - Feast Or Famine
Current mood: hungry
Category: Romance and Relationships

I think these two quotes say it all:
 
"Who riseth from a feast with that keen appetite that he sits down?" - William Shakespeare - Merchant of Venice.
 
"Fools make feasts and wise men eat them." - Benjamin Franklin
 
Why is it that when we compare the world of dating to the act of food consumption, we’re always left starving or a big fat glutton? Feast or famine, is it not? Are we not always one or the other when it comes to dating? Isn’t it for some always a grand ol’ feast while for others a ravenous drought drenched with the pangs of hunger? Think about it. I know everyone of you can relate to this one. There have been times in your life where you felt like the Belle of the Ball because you had two people that were interested in you at the same time. Then by happenstance another person catches your eye. Then another, and another! Soon it’s a feast fit for a King and you’re juggling three, four, and five guys! - making plans with this one, chatting on the phone with that one - texting some - iming the others - all this is going on as you mentally decide which of the potentials you like the most until suddenly:
 
Poof!
 
Just as quickly as they came - one by one they’re gone and once again you’re left famish with no real source of food in sight. And there you have it - it’s either a Feast or Famine. You’re either never full or painfully malnourished, but rarely ever sated. And it’s such a mystery too. One would think that when you’re feasting, the chances of finding someone worthwhile is larger partly because you’re basically auditioning a bigger group of individuals to be your lover, but as someone who can voucher feasting experience, that just isn’t the case. I think what happens when you’re feasting is that you may get focused more on one or two of the potentials that you think you like best and your attention deserts the others causing them to lose interest and stray away. Eventually you find out that the last few won’t work either and then you’re left with (let my inner Guido come out) "stoooogots". Nothing as usual.
 
My latest dating experience wasn’t exactly a full Feast or Famine trauma but definitely contained elements of the breach. I conveniently met "Ethan", Date 57, on gay.com on a night when I wasn’t really searching. I was immediately drawn to him because he was physically exactly my type. He was Lebanese so he had olive skin, black hair, and a scraps of black scruff across his chin and cheeks. Not that it matters but he was also 34 and a make-up artist. I had broken my own phone rule because we ended up talking on the phone that night for close to four hours. I felt like a giddy school girl twirling my hair and lip smacking my gum but due to my own past experiences, I knew not to be fooled by the phone relationship (now that I mention it his voice sounded like Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley). Though I admit I was looking forward in meeting him, I knew how to prepare myself for the worst. Now Ethan’s Mother was coming to visit him for a week so we had made a date to hang out the night after she left. In between that week we greeted each other with texts and short phone calls so when the next Friday came along, I was excited. We met up and went for dinner during which I have to say was a bit awkward. Ethan was a funny sarcastic guy, well from what I gathered on the phone anyway, so why was he so quiet during dinner? He would make random jokes and then smile a lot. I wasn’t sure if he felt intimidated or just wasn’t into me
 
After dinner he suggested that we get a drink which I was fine with and we went to a local bar in the area. We managed to snag two stools by the DJ, him sitting and me leaning and we just scoped the place out. Again, conversation was minimal. I couldn’t have made it more obvious that I liked him and when I asked that if he wanted to go home he said no so I wasn’t sure what his deal was. That’s when the Feast and the Famine began. Suddenly this extremely DRUNK guy stumbles over to me (of course to me, not to any of the other people in bar, just me) and confesses how attractive he thinks I am and goes on and on about just moving here from San Francisco. First of all his breath smelled like shrimp. Second of all, couldn’t he tell that I was on a date??!! I didn’t need this rift-raft cramping my style. I thought Ethan would save me but you know what he did? He got up and went to the bathroom and let this drunk fool stand there and flirt with me! And when Ethan got back, the Drunk Shrimp Breath Boy still didn’t get the hint and still talked my head off even though I barely spoke and mostly nodded. As I glanced at Ethan he looked none too pleased.
 
After Drunk Shrimp Breath Boy left, Ethan still wasn’t conversing with me. WTF. Was I supposed to bend over backwards and perform a circus trick for this guy to pay attention to me? Then guess what? Another guy came over to me. This one didn’t exactly get the nerve to talk but he literally stood RIGHTNEXT to me and kept staring for me to get his attention. I knew he was doing this but I purposely drew myself closer to Ethan who of course noticed the guy all up on my ass. Finally he walked away only to be replaced by yet ANOTHER guy who decided to strike up small talk with me. Can you believe this? All while I was on this date. I’m not a fan of going to bars while on a date but because he requested I thought it would be fine. I guess because Ethan wasn’t talking much to me, people saw that as us being "friends" and not anything else thus giving them leeway to come talk to me. I will note however that no one came over to Ethan and I’m not sure if that’s why he was sulking or not. Hmmm.
 
Ethan was also the one to point out that two guys were cruising me. I had seen that they were but I didn’t want to make an issue out of it. He even said one was attractive and that I should go for it. Was that humor or sarcasm? I have never in my life been approached or cruised by 5 guys in less than an hour at a bar. I couldn’t even make this story up. If I had been at that bar say with my best friend Joe, NO ONE would have came up to me, but because I was on a date, the universe thought it would be funny for me to have a feast on a bunch of boys I couldn’t really talk to. Then Ethan started getting sarcastic and saying things like "wow, you’re pretty popular tonight, you sure everyone doesn’t already know you?" I wasn’t sure but I think he was a little irritated at my new found popularity. But in reality all I wanted to talk to was HIM. So if he was jealous of the attention I was getting, why wouldn’t he give me the time of day? It was now 10:30pm and we had been in the bar for less than an hour when Ethan declared that he wanted to go home. I was pissed. Not only did I trudge into the city for less than two hours but the evening had gone poorly. He said that I should stay and for a minute I toyed with that because at least I’d be able to talk to someone who showed somewhat interest in me. In the end I decided to go home too. I wasn’t in the mood for a feast especially since Ethan had put me in such a famine mood.
 
On the walk to the train we passed a man who was no doubt going to the bar we just left. I wasn’t paying attention but Ethan said he saw the guy looking at me and then said "what are you wearing, magic cologne tonight?" The comment was funny yes, but under it all I was embarrassed amd pleased at the same time. Embarrassed at the attention that I received (which honestly and I swear to this - never happens. Sure a guy here and there every time we go out, but 5? Never. Was a boost in my confidence that’s for sure.) and I was pleased because I thought the situation struck a nerve in Ethan, making him possibly want to talk more on a next date. We said our goodbyes and parted ways. I never spoke to him again. Not a phone a call, text message, email, zilch. Nothing. Then again I never reached out to him either. I was still sore from his early exit on the date. It was one of those things that just, I don’t know, ends. It came, it happened, and now it’s gone. A memory. An experience.
 
Doing this experiment sometimes you have to get into Feast mode. Sure there have been times when I’d have to juggle a few guys but some people do this on a weekly basis. I don’t care who you are, when you’re single and in the dating world it’s only natural to rack up dates. It’s just something we do, like trying on new shoes. You have to find one that fits just right. And of course we all go through the Famine stage as well. It’s this lonely period where we can reflect on the person we are and person we want people to see us as. Though Feast and Famine are both extreme ends of a tightly wound scale, I’m happy to say that some people are able to find a happy medium in between both. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll finally be satisfied.
 
Question 57 -
What’s the most number of dates you’ve "feasted" on at one time, and how long was your longest "famine" and why?

Currently listening :
Feast or Famine
By Chuck Ragan
Release date: 07 August, 2007

11:05 PM - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

March 9, 2008 - Sunday

Date . 56 - Hell Hath No Fury
Current mood: infuriated
Category: Romance and Relationships

Anger. Wrath. Rage. Fury. Furious. Ire. Indignation. Flames. Hellish.
 
All the things that describe what I'm feeling as I go back and write this entry. Seeing red? Understatement. Steam blowing from my ears? Precisely. And all in all the one person that I can honestly say that these flare of emotions are directed to... is none other than: ME. I myself am to blame for being so blind and optimistic and not trusting my intuition as I should have. Sometimes you just have a gut feeling about something and it's hard to ignore, but wise to listen to. I should have done that but instead I went out in a limb thinking that maybe, just maybe, some people change after all. They don't so don't expect much. That piece of shit that you stepped into when you left your house is still going to be a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe when you get home. The goal is to learn how to scrap it off and not step in it again.
 
To be fair the guy involved isn't really to blame, well not entirely. He was just being his shady deflective self so I shouldn't have expected much. So here goes. "Alex", Date 56, wrote me a message on myspace stating how attractive he thought I was and was hoping that I'd like to get to know him. Being the natural born investigator that I am, I dug a little deeper until the facts came clear: I already knew Alex. And I say that loosely too. FLASHBACK - Back when I was 19 and a Guido, I was wide-eyed and naive. I was still wet behind the ears when I met Alex, then 17, but I knew that I liked him. He was from Staten Island, a complete short little confident Guido with a mouth like Joe Pesci, and the grin of the Cheshire Cat. What people don't really understand is that the gay life between Brooklyn and Staten Island, especially back then, are very close. Everybody knew everybody and would frequently venture this gay club called Spectrum in Brooklyn (it was where Saturday Night Fever was filmed and they still had the same lighted floor, I kid you not) so it wasn't odd that Alex and I knew the same people. But we all know how it is when you're that young, it's all about a Fling n' Flee so that's what Alex and I became. The only problem was that Alex never told me this was a Fling n' Flee and instead chose to never talk to me again, respond to my emails, nor return my phone calls. For no reason whatsoever. Like, what the fuck? I never did understand those guys that disappear into the woodwork but whatever, after writing Alex off as a complete and utter ASSHOLE, I dusted my shoulders and went on with my life.
 
That all came flashing back to me the day I read that myspace message. What do I do? Do I pretend that I didn't remember him and see what he says?  Do I tell him that I knew who he was or do I ignore him all together? I chose to tell him that I knew him and you know what the best part was? He couldn't remember me! Ha! Could you die? I'm sorry but back then he went down on me in his truck parked next to a cemetery, even I remember that. Now I know that was 8 years ago but come on, it wasn't like he was some club boy that I kissed once in a back room, we used to hang out a lot! How could you not remember? Either I'm so completely forgettable or he was full of shit and/or was just plain dim. So apparently even though he didn't recall our first rendezvous he still wanted to "get to know me". And this is where I fell. I knew deep down that this guy was a jerk from the previous time but there's a bit of an optimist in me, a sliver really, that just kept saying "give him another chance, he was 17 last time, maybe he's grown up".  I mean 8 years really is a long time and I know I've certainly matured since I was 19 so why not give Alex the benefit of the doubt? I did the unthinkable and gave him my number.
 
 He texted me the next day while I was at work and eventually got tired of "texting" so he called me and we spoke for about hour. There was that Joe Pesci voice that I heard once before, that Staten Island Italian-American accent that so delicately flowed off this tongue. Apparently a lot had changed since we last spoke. He had went to college for fashion, decided that it wasn't for him after he graduated, and now runs a tanning salon ( I know, I know) while going to school to be an EMT. Aside from the tanning salon stint, it was refreshing to see that he had gotten his life in order because so many of our fellow Brooklyn/Staten Island Italians have fallen through the cracks. And unlike Cal from the previous blog (Date 55 "Sicko"), Alex knew he was a Guido and was proud of it. I just has to decide whether I wanted to be caught up in all that again.
 
That Alex was a charmer though and persistent too. He was determined to hang out with me before the week was over. We made plans for Saturday night but he couldn't wait that long. Now every Thursday my friend Chrissy has a LOST party because we're equally obsessed and devoted to the show and each week the party is amazing (the amount of food that is made and consumed is shocking). During the show Alex had texted me saying that he wanted to hang out when I got home which would be after 11. I was off the next day and he wasn't but he didn't seem to mind. Apparently he really couldn't wait till Saturday. So when I got home Alex drove over from Staten Island and the two of us chewed the fat for hours. Seriously. It was actually a lot of fun. I was half expecting him to be this bad version of Tony Manero but I was pleasantly surprised that he had a lot more to offer.
 
Sure he was still everything that I wasn't looking for and represented so much that I was running away from. He worked in a tanning salon! A Guido to say the least, haircut and all, with six tattoos one being of his first name etched across his stomach, with the possible desire of getting another of the Italian flag across his arm. He also smoked which I hate. But through all that typical Staten Island Italian ignorant crap, I could see that he had something going for him. We actually had real conversations - like full blown intellectual conversations and for the first time I felt like I wasn't with someone from my area that I didn't have to talk down to. Maybe we did have more in common than we expected. Maybe I shouldn't judge based what's on paper. We both admitted that neither were our usual types. He usually dated steroid pumping Guidos, neither of which I am, and I usually went for Middle Eastern or scruffy rockerish types both of which he certainly wasn't. But we were both open to something more. And soon that something more grew apparent because we started making out, heavy making out, up until the point where were rolling about in my bed. And I thought I was aggressive? I had nothing on him. Tired of just making out, he nearly ripped my shirt off and couldn't get my jeans down fast enough. It was like that time in the truck all over again, only with less dead people. When we were done it was 4:30am. Yes, 4:30 and he had to be at work at 9.  But he was very adamant about our date on Saturday night. He wanted to make sure we were still on and that this night was just a preview and that I wasn't to make any plans. I promised that we were and I kissed him goodbye. Maybe I was wrong. He did change. He did grow up. And for the first time in a while, I went to bed that night happy. I was 19 again.
 
Trouble was, I'm not 19 anymore and I should have known better. The next day Alex texted me frequently which I thought was a good sign. I felt guilty about writing him off so quickly especially over something that happened 8 years ago. I shouldn't have held a grudge and it was nice for him to redeem himself in my book. Saturday came along and suddenly I got the 'phone call'. Alex's brother surprised everyone and was in town from college and Alex wanted to spend the day with him... he asked if we could switch our date to Sunday. He apologized profusely and I said it was fine. So I switched my Sunday plans to Saturday and all was well... until: Sunday morning he texts me (do you see how downgraded the communication got? From in person to a phone call to a text message) and tells me that he as a "headache" and his "stomach hurts". Uh oh, not a good sign. I ask him about our plans for that day and he writes back "i'm gonna lay down for a bit. hopefully ill feel better. ill call you when i wake up."
 
and I never heard from him again. ever.
 
WHAT THE FUCK MAN?
 
So now you see why I'm furious! I'm seething with anger, nearly foaming at the mouth. Not at Alex but at me for trusting his shady ass again! What's with the ruse? Why waste so many minutes of your life trying to get to know someone when you really don't have any plans to? He nearly ruined my weekend because he made me leave my days open to go out with him. Why bother telling me that? He did exactly what he did 8 years ago which was exactly what I was afraid he would do. What the hell is his problem? Did he really just want to fool around and constructed this whole song and dance just to get it out of me? Go on Manhunt or Adam4Adam if you need play. I'm the one who feels like the fool because I thought he may have changed and gained a little more substance. I guess I was wrong. What is else new? I trusted him with no solid evidence that he was different and in the end I'm the one left with pie thrown in my face. And it's not that I'm bitter I'm just upset that I let myself fall into the same trap I fell into when I was 19. I should know better. I'm nearly 27, I have a shitload of experience under my belt. I write a dating blog for Christ's sake! I just don't like playing the victim and I'm not used to being vulnerable. It's that whole "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me" kind of thing. I gave my optimistic side a big scolding and promised myself that if I saw a duck I'd call it out as a duck. Trust my instincts. Truth be told: People don't change they just become a more or less altered version of themselves.  
 
When you're that angry, who has time to key someone's car, smash in their windows and slash their tires? Me? I'd rather blow the whole motherfuckin' thing up.
 
Question 56 -
When it comes to dating and relationships - do you tend to be more of the one causing the 'anger' or the one who always ends up angry in the end? Anything a crazy angry ex did to you?

Currently listening :
Hell Hath No Fury
By Clipse
Release date: 28 November, 2006

4:45 PM - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

February 29, 2008 - Friday

Date . 55 - SickO
Current mood: sick
Category: Romance and Relationships

So life as I know it has been going swell so far. The writers constructed a deal with the studios thus ending a three and a half month crippling strike, my political candidate is doing great (and no, it's not Obama) and the New York City winter season has been surprisingly mild for this time of year (fingers crossed!) so I'm eagerly awaiting summer where I can be in tank tops, sandals, and shorts again. It's only a matter of time before festival results are in, pre-strike negotiations finally materialize, and a new creepy script is done. Until then it's all about enjoying what we have in the now and staying positive until the next wave of change comes along.
 
Sometimes, however, it's hard to stay positive when you're not feeling well. It's even harder when you're just plain sick. A few weeks ago I had a bad case of bronchitis. Between my wheezing and fever induced consciousness, I managed to go to the doctor who prescribed me Zithromax or Z-pack as it's commonly called. Now Zithromax is so strong that you just have to take six pills. Two the first day and the last four the following days after. Because it's so strong it also does a number on your stomach and that's an understatement. It literally says on the packet that it can cause: diarrhea, nausea, and/or excessive vomiting for a few MONTHS after the medicine is taken. Months later! How lovely is that? You trade one ailment for another. Can you imagine shitting and puking your brains out for months on end just because you took some antibiotics to get rid of a sickness? Your ass would be whistling dixie for weeks.
 
A week later I was fine and ready to go without so much of a cough and luckily no symptoms of those scary side effects "forewarning" had occurred. I thought I was in the clear. I was feeling so well that I decided to accept a date from a guy that had been asking me out since before I had gotten sick. "Cal", Date 55, was an Italian guy around my age, and was from New Jersey. I was reluctant to go out with him at first because he was Guido and we all know how I feel about that (see Date 42 Kiss Me, Guido). Did he go to the tanning salon? Check. Did he have the Tony Soprano accent? Check. Multiple tattoos? Check. Shaved/waxed body including arms and legs? Check. I called Cal out on this very early on and he sort of took offense to it so I stopped teasing him but I knew what I was going into.
 
When we met up for dinner I noticed that he had a bag with him, I mean like a purse. It was like this big giant Puma bag clutched over his arm. I thought it was a little peculiar and I teased him playfully during dinner (he claimed it to be a gym bag) but I knew better. I could tell he also wasn't wearing any underwear because every time he leaned over I was able to see crack. How hot is that to see right before dinner? Dinner and a show, anyone? Now because of the shit/barf medicine I decided to play it safe. Being a vegetarian I chose a simple vegetable wrap with a side of fries. Simple, not stomach churning, I assumed I'd be in the clear. God must of had other plans. After I ate, the moment I placed my fork down my stomach suddenly started to do a wave of destruction. He was talking to me and all I heard was "blah blah blah blah blah". I breathed in deeply and struggled to speak. Cold sweat started to gather across my forehead. I was about to blow chucks any second. The side effects of those poison meds that I thought I successfully passed over was suddenly having the last laugh. On a date no less. Now the bathroom in the restaurant was a single one and constantly occupied so I couldn't go in there especially if this was going to be a time consuming visit. I only had one option - be honest.
 
I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it home so I had one last resort - work. I looked Cal in the eyes and I said: "Look, I'm about to be sick and I have to leave, you're welcome to join me as I run to my office or you can go home which I would understand completely". And you know what? He wanted to come to my office with me! Great. Here I was giving this guy a way out and he wanted to accompany me on my vomit journey. Like a bat out of hell I flew to the subway and hopped on a train a few stops to my office. I nearly didn't make it. I had to keep doing breathing exercises from letting my nausea overcome me. Do you think how hard it is to keep your cool when you're trying to hold down a throat full of scalding vomit? When we got out of the train I was walking fast and nearly doing sprints. Now I'm a walker and a runner but poor Cal looked like he hadn't ran a block since high school because he was flushed, out of breath, and begged me to slow down to keep up. Perhaps he would have liked it if I threw up all over him as I waited for him to "catch up". I nearly wanted to grab a hold of his Puma purse and use it as a leash and drag him the few blocks to the building. So I burst out of the elevator, show him to my desk and tell him to play on my computer until I get back and I make for the bathroom where I threw my guts up. I threw up so much I wouldn't be surprised if my liver or appendix flopped up into the bowl. After 20 grueling minutes I was done but I felt dehydrated and sluggish. I wanted to go home.
 
I went back to my desk where he was checking his email and looking at Perez Hilton. He wanted to know what I wanted to do next such as a bar or something. No, buddy, I just threw up my liver, I wanna go home. We were in the middle of the conversation when suddenly I had to throw up again! Damn you Zithromax and your harmful side effects! So after yet another bout with the toilet bowl I was ready to call it a night.We were ready to pack up and go home when to my surprise (and I'm sure you'll agree), Cal kissed me! Yes, I had just finished losing my dinner no less than 20 minutes earlier, and TWICE as a matter of fact, and he still kissed me! Surprisingly a little throw up didn't exactly throw him off. He was interested to say the least. Is that a good sign or a bad one? A little surprised and uncomfortable, I lingered a few minutes more and told him we should leave which we did and parted ways at my subway while he walked a block further to his.
 
Normally a situation like this would have embarrassed me but because I think I wasn't feeling Cal early on into the date, I didn't mind. He was a good guy but there really wasn't any chemistry and I felt that way before I made my glamorous exit. I also learned to never make a date within a month's span of taking Zithromax. Take my advice people - carry a brown paper bag and a diaper