Recapping My Life

Tomorrow is Turducken.  I have yet to see Mickey, as I don’t have the time or the money right now to travel anywhere further past the Watering Hole.  However, tomorrow will be the first time I see him.  Needless to say it will be interesting. 

            I also haven’t talked to him in almost a week.  Honestly, I don’t know how this is going to pan out!  I am kinda nervous!  I don’t even know why I am nervous, its not like I don’t know the fucking guy!  But I am.  So there it is!  Blaa! 

            So, let’s recap whats been going on in the life of ME these last few days…

            I was on Facetime with one of my old friends.  He is actually best friends with The Ex, but he and I still talk all the time because he isn’t one of those jerk ass guys that ignores their friends after a breakup.  (Unlike the other friends he has that don’t talk to me anymore…  Even though I have known them all longer than I knew the Ex.  I guess that is neither here nor there at this point huh?)

            Anywho…

            I am talking to my pal and he is asking me about whats going on in my life man wise.  Well, were friends, so I tell him my whole (kind of) convoluted story of the goings on in my life.  I tell him all about Guy #1 (who, by the way I haven’t spoken too since I stayed with him the other night.  Fucking moccasins).  I tell him about Mickey and how I don’t know how that is going to work out.  Then I get to Jeff.  My friends face fell and I could tell he was disappointed!  But I didn’t know why! 

            “Whats wrong with Jeff?!”

            “I fucking hate that kid!”

            “I see that!  But why???”

            “Dude!  He straight up duffed his girlfriend in the face one night at JPC.  Granted it was like ten years ago, but it happened!”

            I am shell shocked!  I didn’t see that one coming at all!  Needless to say I have not seen Jeff since I learned this news, and I am contemplating even bothering to call him out.  I mean, I don’t need any more shit in my life at the moment so I doubt I am going to pursue this any further.  Been there, done that! 

            That’s that.

            Now, here I am at my new place of business and I am chatting with some of the nurses about life and doing the whole, ‘getting to know you’ thing. 

            “I am SO going to hook you up with someone!” says one of my co-workers.

            “I don’t like to shit where I eat,” is my response.

            “Come on!  It will be fun!”

            “Who!?  I have been here three days and have seen no one that strikes my fancy!”

            Sure as shit one of the guys walked in that she wanted to hook me up with and I am immediately red in the face.  Why was I red?  I don’t know, but I was.  Maybe it was because the first time I met him the other day he introduced himself to me using his last name, but whatever.  (Who does that?  Are you ashamed of your name or something?  Why not tell me your fucking name?!)

            “Hey!  Are you still dating that girl?” she asks him.  I turn away because I don’t know this woman and she is blatantly trying to work some kind of magic.  (If magic was real and this was the 1600’s she would be the first one to be hanged.  Not for her magical abilities, but for her stupidity and lack of couth). 

            “Naa.. We broke up a few months ago.”

            “Ohhh.  Sorry to hear that!”

            I decide to look over at him to appear as though I don’t know what the fuck is going on.  He looks at me and smiles, so I smile back because I am a nice fucking person.  He leaves and there we are.

            “You give ZERO fucks don’t you?” I say to her.

            She laughs and says, “nope!”

            Oddly enough, not even ten minutes later, the guy calls me at the clinic and asks if I would like some coffee from DD.  Hmm… Interesting.  Now, I don’t know what’s what some of the time, but I am not a fucking idiot.  It NEVER happens that when you meet someone and they clearly have a spark of interest in you that they are going to ignore you.  It just doesn’t happen.  In some manner or fashion or something, they will contact you.  He contacted me.  And asked ME if I wanted coffee.  Let's be serious; NO ONE is going to ask you if you want something for nothing.  He wanted to come back to the clinic for a reason, did he not!?  (Not that I mind because I like coffee). 

            He comes back and puts it on the desk as I am working with one of the kids, and pops his head in to let me know my coffee is there.  I say thanks.  And because I am VERY good at what I do, I actually say, “thank you,” and make eye contact for five seconds.  This engages them and makes them wonder.  Like I said, I am good at this shit.  He smiles and blushed a little then when I offered him money he says he got it and not to worry about it.  (Goddamn I am good). 

            So there I am with the man situation.  I am not saying I am going to hook up with this guy, but I am down for free coffee.  So back to Mickey…

            I guess there is nothing left to say about him tonight because tomorrow is going to be the big night.  The only thing I am upset about it having to spend those extra minutes in the shower shaving.  I fucking hate shaving.  A lot.  The things we do for sex, right?  (I am also not going to have sex with him tomorrow because were going to be at my BFFs house with 20 other people, not to mention my 2-year-old nephew.  I don’t need to pay for his therapy bills later in life).

           So there we are!  I will let you all know how things go at Turducken!  (Fingers crossed).

Rock, Paper, Scissors says shoot. Shoot.

            The other night was my first night in the clinic.  As in my new job, you know, the one that moved me home from warm and sunny and warm North Carolina?  Yes, that one.  Whatever.  I call Sando as I am walking out and we decide to go to the Watering Hole because that’s what we do when its 10pm and there is nothing to do the following morning.  (BTW, my wine-only diet is slowly fading back into my beer only diet, which means I need to start doing some sit ups)  But moving on…

            So we sit down and were bull shitting about our days and how work was and bla bla bla and in walks a pack of biker men.  Now, bikers (depending) do the same thing for me that firemen do.  (I think it’s more of a Jax Teller thing ya know?)  We know some of these guys so were all chatting.

            OH!  Backtrack for a moment.  I have another sperm donor for my dry and cracking eggs.  We have both agreed that there will be zero relations other than to have babies because being like Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell is definitely more my speed.  Ya know, no papers with deathly signatures of doom.  Just relationship without the licenses and paperwork.  Who needs that shit!?  It’s the most expensive shit and most likely, it will end in a divorce or infidelity.  Moving on…

            Chatting, chatting, chatting and were all chatting some more.  I was talking to one of these sexy men in particular and we were talking about sex.  Why not right?  It’s hysterical and I have opinions on the matter. 

            “Blow jobs are rated on a scale of 1-10 really.  Depending on how much you like or don’t like a person.  Depending on if you know this person.  Depending on whether or not you want to get yours.

            Gotta start out at a 4.  Let them know you know whats up but not being over anxious with it.  Right?  You don’t wanna jump right to the 10 spot and basically say to him, I am a filthy blowjob-giving mongrel.  No.  Start at a 4 and progress.”

            I had heard something similar in a movie I recently saw.  Hysterical movie, and I totally agree with her in having a blowjob 1-10 list.  No one likes doing it.

 “They don’t call it a job for nothin’”  -Samantha Jones.  SATC.

Sando and I find ourselves in a strange predicament.  Were both talking with him and whatnot.  So we decide to rock-paper-scissor for him.  HAHA!  Writing it and re-reading it sounds hysterical!  Who does that?!  Who the fuck rock-paper-scissors for something/someone anymore.  What are we, 9?! 

Anyways, she won, and that’s the end of the blog…

But seriously, she won and I lost and I don’t think I will be rock-paper-scissoring for a human being ever again.  I need to step up my game and learn my opponents before hand dueling.  

Wine=Bad Decision Making

            Friday night Reg and I had planned on going out.  We head to the Watering Hole at about 5pm just in time for some happy hour drinks and stuff.  However, we decided to get wine because we thought it would be classy.  I am an avid wine drinker but this particular night was one that I should have stopped while I was behind. 

            So were drinking and drinking and drinking and we go to 3 bars that night where we had more and more wine.  So we head back to the Watering Hole where we continue the wine. 

            “You know your gonna call Guy #1.”

            “Reg, I don’t even have his number in my phone!”

            “But you can find it!”

            So of course we go in and find it and shoot him a text…

            “Hey.”

            “Hey.”

            “See you soon.”

            “Ok.”

            Why not right?!  We go to his house where he is sitting on his couch and drinking a beer and what not.  So we chat for a few minutes and I don’t even know what we talked about to be honest.  I don’t think I said too much because I don’t know what to say to him.  I was so mean to him every other time I had seen him.  So we leave shortly after we get there.

            “You are totally going to have sex with him tonight.”

            “No, I am not.”

            “I’m texting him from your phone.”

            Welp, put it this way I went over there after I drop Reg off at my parents house and I walk in to his house without knocking.  I sit on the couch that I always sit on and I start talking.  Because that’s what wine does to me.  I talk.  A lot. 

            “I have to tell you that I am sorry.”

            “Sorry for what?”

            “I threw everything in your face.  Everything I was mad at The Ex about I took out on you and it wasn’t fair.  I miss you as my friend and I wish we hadn’t slept together because now it’s weird.  I don’t want it to be weird.”

            “Don’t worry about it…”

            “And I am sorry I threw water on you.”

            “I forgot all about the water thing.”

            “No you didn’t!”

            “Your right.  I didn’t.  But it’s ok.”

            So we go on to talk for about 20 more minutes and by the end of the conversation I stand up to leave because I told him we were not sleeping together anymore.  And he says to come over and sit with him for a minute.  I know what that means…

            I go and sit with him on the couch and then we're lying on the couch and then he starts running his hands on my back.  “What are you doing?”

            “Nothing…”

            Bull shit.  But did I let it happen?  Of course I did.  And why?  Why not?

So were going on the couch for a few minutes and I told him I didn’t want to have sex on his couch because his windows were right there and the blinds were shit and can we just go to the bedroom if were gonna do this?

            We get off the couch and walk to the bedroom.  I turned around to see what was holding him up, and he does not have any pants on.

            “What the hell happened to your pants?  I didn’t even see you take them off!”

            “They’re pajama pants!  They come off easily!”

            Then he walked behind me and grabbed me from the back and kissed my neck and we made it to the bedroom.  The funny thing was this though; it was funny sex.  It was the first time that we laughed during it and we had fun.  I know it sounds weird!!  But it was funny and we were laughing by the end of it. 

             So were laying in bed after and he pulls me into his side and places my right hand on his chest and covers my hand with his, and he is playing with my hair with his other hand.  We fall asleep for a few hours and he is woken up because he has to be at work.  It was definitely interesting.  Not to mention I was talking to one of my other friends who knows someone that hooked up with him a while back and she told me that he has these night fits and is violent in his sleep.  Funny thing, he was never violent with me when we were sleeping, so I wonder...            
           But now here we are and we haven’t spoken and I doubt we will for some time.  But whatever, I think we broke some new ground and things are kind of in the past right?  I guess we are going to have to play it by ear and see what happens. 

            It’s sure good to be home. 

Ohhhh Watering Hole

Before reading this blog, just let it be known that there are like 3 new ones here.  Thanks to the hurricane that left me powerless and internet-less, I have a few things happening in the life of ME!  Just a forewarning, you have to read the first blog of November to get the references in the following blogs.  Sorry for the wait, and your welcome for the entertainment.  I mean, I was entertained enough and therefore, you should be too!  Oh!  And ps. I actually talk about sex in the November blogs because I actually am having it again and I don't have to talk about socks or provocative-go-nowhere things!  Get excited because shit's about to get WEIRD in the life of the Naked Napper.  

            I met my group of friends out the other night, first night out back at home, and oddly enough we went to the Watering Hole.  WEIRD!!  Anyways, were all sitting there throwing back the drinks and catching up and whatnot.  Sando and I go outside to smoke really quickly, and remember a few months ago when I said to you all that I shouldn’t be allowed to drink and bring my cell phone with me?  Well, this time it wasn’t even my fault!  Anyways, we go out to smoke and I come back in a few minutes later to discover Cheese texting someone. 

            Lo, it was MY phone she was texting on. 

            “Cheese!  What are you doing?”

            “Ohhh nothing…  Just helping you out.”

            I try to grab the phone to see what she is saying and to whom.  And she is texting the Cousin, who will now be dubbed Mickey (hahaha.  I laugh because I feel so much better about not calling him Cousin anymore, and because Mickey is just funny to me for some reason that I am not fully aware of at the moment).

            “What?  He texted you and I saw the phone go off and I saw his name scroll across the top so I answered for you!” Cheese says to me.

            This is what transpires;

            Mickey, “Ohhh welcome home. Thanks for the call.”

            “You didn’t call me!”

            “You were the one coming back!”

            “You were the one that was already here!”

            “Yea yea, excuses.”

            “You’re full of excuses.  When are you coming up here?”

            “I'll be up there Friday.”

            “Lemme know if you wanna hang.”

            “I'll definitely hit you up.”

            Not too too bad right?  Wrong.  Wrong because again, like an ass clown I go outside and leave Cheese to chat with Mickey but then Jeff chimes in and texts me leaving me vulnerable to all.  He starts the conversation by saying that he is not going to meet up with me out that night because he is home watching a movie.  To which my FRIENDS respond…

            “Waste of my time.”

            “Listen!  I tease and I joke.  There is no need to get rude with me when I am laying in bed.”

            “Watch a better movie.  Correction… Lets make a better movie.”

            “Bit time talker!”

            “Is that a challenge?”

            “Just stating a fact.”

            “You don’t want to worry about a camera.  You just want me inside of you.  There's nothing wrong with that.  I don’t mind at all.”

            I was not at all floored by this comment.  He is a dirty talking man, and I dig it.  But I am pretty sure that Cheese almost fell off her barstools when she read it!

            “So who is the big talker now?”

            Then he goes on to say something about me being a lesbian because, you know, that’s a fucking reoccurring thing in my life these days.  First my dad asks me if I am gay for not having a boyfriend, now this kid is telling me I love the muff.  To which my FRIENDS respond…

            “Not as much as you like mine…”

            “Depends!  I have never been involved in a threesome.”

            “My grandma wears those.  You haven’t lived much have you?”

            “Do you think I could handle it?”

            “Not even a little bit.”

            “I guess I will never find out.”

            “I guess you’re not adventurous enough.”

            “Would you ever want to share me?”

            “I don’t play well with others.”

            “I don’t mind being not sharable.”

            Insert… what the hell does that even mean?  Is that his way of telling me he wants to be monogamous?  Because I can say one thing right now and it’s this; FUCK NO.  Sorry, pal, but I don’t exactly want to be in a relationship when I have all these prospects! I am making up for almost 6 years of lost time here and I don’t have the time to put into a relationship right now!  I just wanna bang.  Is that kind of a man thing to say?  Fine, let it be a man thing, but I guess I am going to have sex like a man and not give a shit.  That’s what they do right?  Just bang and not care?

            The conversation pretty much ends there and then the door to the Watering Hole opens up and I am not paying attention to who is walking in, but then Sando knocks my knee out and I turn at her to say something like, “what the fuck!?” and then Cheese is on my other side poking me.  I don’t know whats going on because they’re both acting weird, then I smell him.  And then I hear him.

            Guy #1.

            “Hey you.  How was everything down south?”

            “It was good.”

            “Apparently not good enough.  Your home for vacation or good?”

            “Good.  Got a new job up here.”

            Then I stopped talking to him. 

            We didn’t converse for the rest of the night, but that was fine with me.  And then I talked to Mickey today, Jeff is probably petrified of me, and Guy #1… I laugh in his general direction.

            Moral of the story; Don’t leave your intoxicated friends in charge of any conversation your having via text unless you know they are only going to get you laid.  Ergo, my friends are pretty sweet.  Not only do I get laid a few times a week, but also it looks as though I am going to be double dipping before long. 

Welcome home!

Fathers Thoughts

            I am going to meet up with Jeff and before walking out the door to leave my dad turns to me and looks me up and down.  I am wearing yoga pants, a long sleeve shirt and a vest or something (I don’t remember at the moment what I was wearing shirt wise).  My hair is up in a bun and I am wearing my glasses.  Granted, dad thinks I am going out to a bar to watch the Giants game with this man, he doesn’t know I am going to watch the Giants game at his house on the big screen.  I am almost 30 years old and I am still lying about my whereabouts and feel as though I cant tell him the truth about it because I feel like a dirty stay out!

            So he looks me up and down and says, “you’re going out like that?”

            “Christ, whats wrong?”

            “Well, I mean, you look like a lesbian.  Are you a lesbian?!”

            “Jesus Christ, Dad, no I am not a lesbian. I am going to meet up with a boy!  Just to prove to you that I am not a lesbian.”

            “Yea right!  Whats this boy’s name?  Where is he from?  What does he do for a living?  Oh, so he makes money.  Where are you going?  When are you going to be home?  Do we get to meet him?”

            “You’re not meeting him anytime soon.”

            “Fine whatever.  But you need to do something about how you look.”

            “Why, dad, why?”

            “You look like a lesbian, we don’t want this boy to not like you because you need to get married and get out of my house.”

            “Thanks Dad!”

            So of course I go to the bathroom and pop in my contacts and do nothing with my hair and do nothing about my clothes.  I am so very sorry to disappoint you, Dad!  But my ‘date’ has seen me in nice clothes as well as “the workout look” clothing.  And he doesn’t care!  I am also lying about where I am going so I know that my ‘date’ is going to be in sweats anyways!  Why am I going to go out of my way to look all nice nice for someone who isn’t going to see me in the light of day or even by the light of a fucking lamp because the game is going to be on and the lights will be off.

            I come back downstairs and he, again, looks at me with a look.  You know the “look” that parents throw out there when they have nothing to be disappointed in but there is something that disgusts them?  THAT LOOK!  Well I get that look and just huff out the door.  My sister and dad are laughing at me as I leave and my mom, the only person in the damn house that was nice to me that day, says, “Have fun Pie!”

            Upon arriving at the house, I am worrying now about looking like a lesbian.  I don’t think I looked like a lesbian.  And I am not saying that look is bad or whatever, I don’t have a problem with people’s choices, but I am just saying.  It’s not for me.  Moving on… I called Cheese.

            “Dad just told me I looked like a lesbian!  I am sitting in Jeff’s driveway at the moment.  There is no time to turn back!”

            “Why would he call you that?!” she asks laughing.

            “My outfit!  Then he said I need to make men like me because I need to get married and move out of his house!”

            “Ohhh my god!!!  I love your dad!  Hey, Thad, ‘names’ dad just called her out on looking like a lesbian.”

            Then I hear Thad in the background laughing.

            “Whatever, jerks, I have to go!”

            Let’s just put it this way, Jeff didn’t care what I looked like!!  So, BAM!  In your face dad!

Homecoming

            I drove home to NY this weekend.  Let me just say that driving by yourself is two things; 1. Cool for the first 4 hours because you can do nothing but think and work out plans in your head and do whatever you want!  And 2. It SUUUUCCKKKS!  There is no one to talk to and not a whole hell of a lot to do unless you wanted to stop every hour or so and do the “tourist thing” in whatever town you were in.  But me, I powered through it and drive 9 straight hours only to stop for gas and to pee.

            I get to my hometown and pick up Reg at the Dunkin, then we head to her house where we caught up, drank a few brews, and smoked a few butts.  It was my sisters birthday weekend and my plan was to surprise her at the bowling alley that night where she would be.  But being that I don’t like surprises and I wanted to see her we had her come to Regs’ house.  Long story short, she was surprised to see me but claimed that she knew the entire time that I was home!  Right!!  Yea right!!  I got you!!  I know you’re going to read this! 

            Moving on!

            We went to the bowling alley later that night and we all sucked at bowling, but that’s no surprise, and the lady working in the bar area was a wretch.  I dubbed her Bertha.  I have never seen anyone take a pouring pitcher job so very seriously. 

            Now, being that I lived down south for a few months I haven’t talked to any of the male suitors that lived here for a few months.  But that night I get a text from Jeff that says, “Back in New York?”

            “Yeaaa buddy!”

            “Apparently I didn’t make the cut.”

            “You didn’t?  What are you speaking of?”

            “I miss you.”

            “Are you intoxicated?”

            “No, just sad I don’t get to see you.”

            “Aww!  I miss you too!  And you can see me whenever you like.”

            “How long are you home for?”

            “Forever as of now.  New job up here.”

            “Get out!  What are you doing tonight?”

            “Bowling for my sisters birthday.”

            Bla bla bla.  That was basically that conversation.  But now I am wondering why he hasn’t spoken to me in 3 months and I am now home and he ‘misses’ me and whatnot.  I mean, I know I am awesome and stuff but wtf?!  Not a peep in months and now I am getting these texts everyday and he wants to hang out every day?  I mean, I am fine with it, but I am starting to think he likes me.  “Likes me,” likes me.  (Again, who wouldn’t?  Look at this!  HAHA.  Kidding).

            The next morning:

            “Hey, whatcha doing?”

            “Heyyy, jus recipe hunting.”

            “Still searching for that perfect sauce?  Look no further!  I’m right here.”

            Such a dork!!!  Suck a dork.

            “Ohhh you!  Other than my perfect man sauce, I am looking for some Turducken recipes.”

            We go on to chart for a few more minutes and he is trying to get me to go out and meet up with him.  Of course I know the whole time that I am indeed going to do this thing and he is trying to make me feel bad about it.

            “Do you even want to see me?

            “Are you reverse psychology-ing me?!”

            (I am onto people’s games.  I know the mind and how it works!  I can see right through this plastic.  And guess what?!  Before I suffocate, I am ripping it the fuck down!  Try to reverse psychology me!  I think not!)

            “No, I am not.  I guess I was just curious if you missed me too.”

            “Maybe a little…”

            (See, I’m good at this shit… don’t hate the player, hate the game!  BAM).

            The rest of the conversation is a little boring.  But lets just say this; I did go down there and I did have sex for the first time in months and woot!  The blog is no longer going to be about my pathetic sex life and the lack there of, and random shit.  I think I might incorporate some sex right in there!!  

I Love Being Compared To Famous People

           So, before the big move north, I thought it would be best to bring my car in for a little doctor’s visit.  I think she needs to be tuned up and she definitely needs an oil change, so here we are!  She is sitting in the garage being poked and prodded, (I wish I was being poked and prodded, but whatever, it’s the car’s turn), and I am sitting down the road in a café sipping on this delicious peach, raspberry, blueberry, strawberry smoothie trying to think of something to blog about. 

            I order another delicious smoothie (Blueberry, banana, and mango) and am sitting at my table when the very cool, very chic owner of the place comes up to me and pops his hip with his hand and says, “you know, I don’t know if you have heard this before, but you look a lot like Marion Cotillard, you know, from Batman?”

            “Let me see what she looks like,” I say.  I pull her up on Google and it’s the girl I had been compared to before, I just never knew her name.

            “Definitely look like her!” he says.

            “I have heard that one before!”

            “She’s beautiful.”

            “Well, yes, she is.  Thank you?”

            I didn’t know if that was a compliment or his way of telling me he thought I was beautiful.  I don’t know, but I dig it.  She is a pretty lady and it’s the thousandth time I have heard that I look like her.  I am going to have to do more research on this when I am home I cant just pull her up right now and compare myself when he is standing behind me at the cash register.

            I have also heard I looked like Christina Ricci and Katy Perry.  He didn’t think I looked like them and he is stuck on Marion.  I can get into looking like her.  I think she’s lovely.  Not to mention it gives my readers a bit of a visual as to what I could possibly look like, right?!  Now they know something!

            When comparing me to someone famous, why couldn’t it be because I too, am rich and powerful and I can get out of DUI’s, and smuggle coke in my ass, and get to have mental breakdowns where I shave my head and beat people up with umbrellas.  Wouldn’t it be so much more fun if I could do something like that?  Damnit!  I need to be more adventurous.  Apparently I am not celebrity enough for myself.  I need to be a celebrity!  So we know what we have to do!? 

PROMOTE THIS BLOG!!!

Be good, little, readers and promote the shit out of this so I can act a fool and get you and your friends out of DUI’s and we can beat people up with umbrellas! 

I would love some feedback, and maybe even a blog idea.  So contact me at my amazing and inventive Gail account!  NakedNapper@gmail.com  I know, right, ingenious!  

What To Expect When You’re Not Expecting

            That’s a witty title isn’t it? 

            And how fitting it is!  I am not talking about babies and shit, clearly that ship has sailed.  I am talking about men in general.  I am talking about what to expect if you don’t actually expect anything to come from anything.  Ya know what I mean? 

            I have been thinking long and hard about a lot of things that have been going on in my life for the past few days and weeks and months.  Last night for instance I was talking to one of my good friends and we were chatting about whether or not we were ready to move on from our past relationships.  I want nothing more than to forget my past life (as I am calling it) and move on to something new.  But do I want that something new to be something complicated?  No!  Of course not.  I already did complicated.  I don’t want to do complicated again.  And I don’t want a long distance relationship of any kind. 

            I am starting to think of myself as the black widow that leaves my victims alive, they just like to move away from me and hurt me.  The boyfriend I had before The Ex moved to a new college, we wound up breaking up obviously.  But that breakup was not because of the distance thing, it was because he was a fucking scumbag who liked to hit people, and his inability to keep that small, Cheeto sized dick in his pants.  Then there is the Ex.  Who said we “grew apart” and I was an “introvert.”  Introvert my thinning, no-longer-that-fat-ass.  Fine, so here I am, alone again for the first time in 7, almost 8 years.  (That’s disgusting to me). 

            The thing with the Cousin is this; I don’t know what I want from him.  Other than the no sexy time until after Turducken.  I seem to have the ability to take a fuck buddy and turn him into a boyfriend sooner than later.  I can’t have a boyfriend that lives in the Bronx.  I live (or will be living, again) 40 minutes north of the Bronx, so I cant have that. 

            Can we go back to the not being alone for almost 8 fucking years?  Please, just deal with my rant for a moment; 8 FUCKING YEARS!  8 years!  Of having a constant boyfriend, of having someone other than a friend and a family member in my life.  8 years of shit.  6 of those 8 were great with the Ex, but now I am alone and I apparently am lost in learning about myself.  I don’t know how to do things by myself when it comes to relationship shit.  Meaning, I am a clinger, I like to be loved and I like when I am called and asked, simply, how was your day babe?  I don’t have that now, and that’s fine, but how can I find myself if I don’t know myself?  Ya know!?  Not to mention, I don’t have time to fucking find myself!  I am pushing 30 here and have zero children and my eggs are drying up as we speak, and I have zero love from men (boyfriend wise) in my life.  Where does that leave me?  I’ll answer my own question; being a black widow with no babies while being habitually single. 

            This is what I need; I need a night out at NYC’s finest firemen bar.  THAT’S what I need.  I know for a fact that I am not going to find a husband there, because lets be honest, most firemen are cheaters (Rescue Me anyone?  Anyone?  Love that show, love me some Tommy and Franco and Shawn) are they not?  If you happen to find a good one, good for you, but as of right now, I am going to go ahead and stick with my convoluted knowledge of firemen.  So, no, I am not going to this bar, where the local hotties who put out fires for a living unwind, to find a husband, I am going to simply have a look around, maybe find a one night stand man.  Again, this is a sex blog that has turned into my rantings about lack of children and what color my fucking socks are today!  I need something a little bit more juicy than telling you my daily plans and how I am “feeling” right?! 

            Feelings are SO not cool. 

            I am not expecting to find a man right away that is ready and willing to settle down and have babies with me.  I am not expecting anything to come of this Cousin thing.  (I need a name for him, because calling him “Cousin” is starting to make me feel like an inbred).  I am not expecting anything because that way I will be surprised and floored when I actually do find someone willing to deal with me for at least 18 years.  (When the kid moves out).  Back to the original plan of poking holes in condoms with the “Mr. right person” I just have to be the Black Widow and choose my victims…

Turducken

So, I have asked the cousin to come with me to our annual Turducken Feast hosted by Sav at her home.  Let me preface this in saying that every year my friends and I alllll get together and eat and drink and play games for our own Thanksgiving dinner.  Every year there is something awesome that occurs, and every year we can wait until the following Thanksgiving to do it again.  Why do we call it Turducken you ask?  Google a "Turducken" and you tell me whether or not you would want something so scrumptious and then we can talk about it.

Back to the story; I invited the cousin to come with me to this thing so I wouldn’t be the only one there without a goddamn date.  He agrees and its fine, whatever.

Going back to this past weekend:

Friday night was a good night; I hung out with my aunt and drank some wine and we chatted, as is the usual thing to do most every night.

But I was texting with the Cousin earlier in the day and he said he would give me a call later.  Now, I am not one to wait by the phone (thank god for cell phones; it makes the girls job of not waiting around that much harder! *Sarcasm* Instead of putting post its around the house that state "DONT YOU DARE CALL HIM FIRST!"  Or "STEP AWAY FROM THE PHONE WITH THE CURLY CORD, LOSER!" we are now saddled with having the phone on our hips and checking for a missed call or a text every 18 seconds.  It's pathetic isn’t it!?)

Does he call that night?  No.  Was I expecting him to?  Not really, but whatever.  Instead, I get a 4:30AM phone call from him.

"Hey!"

"You realize it's 4:30 right?"

"I'm druuuuunnnkk!"

"Your an idiot.  Why are you calling me at 4:30?"

"Maybe I was thinking about you."

What do people at 4:30 REALLY think about when they’re drunk and somehow awake?  Think about that one for a second.

"I hate you right now."

"WHY!?  And why are you mad at me on Facebook?"

"I don’t know.  I got into the wine and needed something to say."

"When are you coming home?"

"I don’t know yet."

"I’m drunk."

"I know."

"I’m going to bed."

"OK.  Good night."

Short and sweet HAHA.

So the next morning I text him and ask him how he is feeling.

"I feel hung-over as shit, why do you ask?"

He doesn’t remember talking to me at all!  WTF?!  I feel very important at this moment in time.

"Um, oh, I don’t know.  Maybe the 4:30AM phone call I got from you."

"I talked to you?!  I must have been thinking about you.  How was our convo?"

"Woooow!  I feel special.  It was a short conversation"

"Oh, wait, I kind of remember now.  You told me you were mad at me"

"I told you I got into the wine"

"So you just get drunk and hate on me haha."

"Whatever bro, you get drunk and call me at 4:30"

"That’s cause I was having happy thoughts about you.  Not cause I was mad!"

"Nice cover!  You don’t even remember the conversation!"

So that was Saturday afternoon.  And that night we all went out for the UNC/Duke game to this sweet bar in Chapel Hill.  My family and some of their friends and the VERY large $4 Blue Moon Pumpkin ales were all getting along very well.  I had about 4 of those (no joke, they were probably 30oz glasses) and then switched to wine.  As if I needed to do that!  But I did cause I am awesome and apparently have a liver of steel.  (I wonder what my liver looks like in all seriousness, probably mushy and green; that’s how I picture it).

So I text him, "I am starting to drink.  Expect texts later."

"I have been drinking for hours!"

"Are you telling me that were going to have 4am phone calls?"

"I don’t know if I am going to last that long!"

"Guys should never say that to girls... just saying"

"HAHA I have no shame."

"I already knew that haha!"

I proceed to get drunk.  Not to the point that I don’t know my own name.  But to the point of no return and I talk a lot.  Wine makes me talk.  Which is not necessarily good.  But whatever.  So I get home with my aunt and continue the party.  We sit on the porch and open another bottle and proceed to drink until 2am maybe?  I don’t know.  She goes to bed and I am sitting out there smoking my last cigarette when my phone goes off.

"Been waiting to hear from you."

"I was just about to text you"

We go on to talk about phone sex and nudie pictures.  NONE OF WHICH HAPPENED!  Please, I dont need to send that shit out and about for the world to see.  Does he think I am an idiot!?  I might have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night and I have some shred of dignity!  (Although it's fringed and frayed).

We went to talk for another day and a half.. Some of it was definitely provocative and he wants to hang out when I get home.  So now, I was talking to Finny about this and I told her that he was coming to Turducken with me.  She said, "awesome!  Sexy time or no sexy time?"

"No sexy time until after Turducken is over!"

"Why?"

"What if he’s bad?  I don’t want to have to sit through a meal with him and all my friends and that weirdness"

"Well, things could be worse, I guess."

"Says the person getting laid every night.  I’m currently on the path

to re-virgination!"

"Ohhh that could be fun!"

"Or not."

"Well, fun for him."

"Ugh, I have to fucking shave."

I need input here!  I am right, right, when I say that there should be no sexy time until after Turducken (mid November) for the sake of saving face?  Right?  But I know myself!  I can’t hang out with a prospect and not experiment!  Damn!