Strippers, Booze, Weightlifting... academia: From NY

[clubfootedmijet]

"18 life and counting, and life you know, your crime and it's 18 and life to go..."


I am feeling incredibley nostalgic this evening.

I find that this is the predominant subject of reflection when I smoke pot.

I am remembering being in Summer School. drawing pictures of batman and selling them to skater kids in Auburn NY, thinking of the girls my stepsister used to introduce me to, learning about love, women and sex for the first time.

Back then nothing excited me more than the thought of having a magical summer... I would go to my fathers for the summer, meet girls, hopefully fall in love. I dreamt of summers with the kind of drama that are only shown in movies. My summers were filled with constant yearning and no action. My biggest regret is the way I ...fuck.. too high to type... may edit tomorrow.



*EDIT: Not high now. I am not particularly fond of my writing when I am high. But, I know what I meant. It just doesn't elicit the feelings I am trying to convey. Perhaps I should stop posting when I am high.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Coming down from a high... I can think more cogent thoughts.


I am annoyed that I can see the sun.

I am annoyed that it is so fucking muggy.

I have two ideas worth millions of dollars. If you want to invest PM me.

I am listening to Dr. Ralph Stanley.

This evening was a bust. It was humid, dark and though the women outnumbered the men, they were all too familiar to me.

Last evening I had yet another opportunity to speak to the pretty Italian girl. However, I was too busy hitting on other women all night. For some reason my confidence was renewed. Well, actually, it was that I was both high and buzzing from 3 mixed drinks. The alcohol tends to make me more sociable.

I spent the day yesterday with my Father. I haven't seen him in six months and three years before that, and 4 years before that... I think we get the picture.

I wish I could spend more time with my father. Sadly, I just don't enjoy his company.

We managed to argue. We always manage to argue.

It would be difficult to adequately describe my father. I can describe him in shades. He has a bitter disposition. A thunderous hollar and will often raise his voice when he argues. He never smiles unless he humors himself. He weighs about as much as I do but he is obese. I think people might say that he is always angry. This is how I generally would describe him. He makes no effort to be liked. He is a dreamer. Lately all he speaks of is what could have been. He is a master of manipulation. He attempts to manipulate me into feeling sympathy for him. My Dad has bought one close friend. He plays the guitar, drums, bass... he had a very succesful band in the mid 60's to the mid 70's. He was also a very successful radio personality.

He never really encouraged me. Perhaps there is an exception: He was always impressed with my drawing ability. I think Dad wanted to be a painter more than he wanted to be gifted musically. But, gifted musically he was. My father grew up poor. Very very poor. His mother was the only working parent. His father was playing with Benny Goodman on one of the horns. Dad's father rarely worked. He, his brother and their father lived off the salary of his mother. She was a school teacher.

I don't know.

Anyway, there wasn't a single person who I introduced my father to that came back with 'warm' feelings. However, those same people always come out smiling after spending time with my Mother. My father is truly the Dark, my Mother is the Light. Both have their addictions and shortcommings, but only one can light up a room with their presence, and the other can leave people feeling chilled.

I always envied other kids. Even to this day I envy my friends who have fathers who's relationships seem like close ones. If my the relationship with my father were somehow comparable to the relationship with my mother, I would probably have grown up to be a much happier individual.

Even though I am 26, I still feel somehow vulnerable in the presence of my father. I think he knows this. However, he won't push it much anymore as I refuse to react the way he would like me to. He knows that if he pushes me too far, I will leave again.

He is a lonely man. I believe his misunderstood, like he says. But I also believe he is misunderstood because he lied so much. He is a pathological liar. I don't feel at liberty to go into detail.

He is only 59. His skin is starting to sag and it is apparent as to what he will look like as he heads into the next stage of his life. His face is ridiculously fat as is his stomach. His legs are almost hairless as well as his arms. His limbs are skinny, relatively speaking of course. We are built much the same way. We are the same height, he was probably taller than I was in his 20's. Maybe 5'11. I am taller than he is now. We have the same big bone structure, big hands, big feet. We both wear 13's. We have the same mouth's. The same shape of our heads, the same long space between our noses and lips and the beady eyes. When I have a beard, sometimes I look in the mirror and I see my father staring back at me. When I was fatter, my stomach looked like my fathers. We keep weight in the same places.

Dad is left handed. I was left handed until I was about 4. I made the switch naturally. He plays guitar like a righty. I played violin like a lefty.

I admit that I do feel some sense of loss regarding my father. We don't really know each other very well. He is often trying to share with me what his intentions were. My response is one of indifference or of resent. He won't admit to his wrongs. He only alludes to them by explaining his intentions. He refuses to take responsibility. I think though, as he gets older and as he contemplates the nearness of his demise, that he feels that there is less to answer to. I am hoping that one day he will be honest with me and tell me how it was.

I know why he and my mother are not together. It was a mystery up until I was about 12. I grew up with my parents divorced so I was free from the burden of guilt for a failed marriage. But he has never come out and admitted that he knew why it was over. Soon, he will have no one but me left to confess to. I can see it in his eyes that he seeks redemption. When we speak of religion or faith he acknowledges that he has a lot to answer for, he is soul searching.

I desperately want to go back in time to meet my father when he was my age. I need to know what he was like when he was my age. I want to know why he is the way he is.

I suppose what upsets me most is that I feel like am supposed to have this hero as a father, and he has attempted to bolster something of a hero status at times, but instead my father is heavy with denial.


Dad was wearing a pair of shorts that must be 11 years old. His shirt was older.

His house, much like him, has not been maintained. It is not in complete ruins but it is not presentable to any women he may want to entertain.

Therein is another one of his problems. Dad, like Mom, is much brighter than your average individual. They both however, spend or spent a lot of time in bars meeting people. They spent thier time in local bars meeting locals. Mom managed to reel in some smart men, Dad managed to marry a woman 15 years younger than him. Though she was very very beautiful, out of shape and stupid, but beautiful....

She was not a bright person at all. She was average. Nothing more, nothing less. She made futile attempts at demonstrating her intelligence by buying all these math books, mensa tests.. so on and so forth to prove herself to my father. Her interest in these tests interested me. I was about 14 when I got hooked on testing. I was 15 before I finally asked my mom what my I.Q. was. I owe it all to that woman. She went on this testing bender for about a year. She was insanely jealous of me because Dad treated me so well. If I was being treated well, I could only have imagined what it was like to be treated poorly by my father. My mother, my step-siblings could attest to that.

I don't feel any grattitude. He still caused me much pain. He managed to alienate me from the people he wanted me to get close.

I figure that he used me as a gimmick to ellicit the type of attention that 'she' could give. His ex only knew how to respond to chaos. She was molested by her father.. and beat as well.. viciously beat.

Here is something interesting to note:

She left my father. Within a year she had married a man who had no legs. He was a bodybuilder who beat her worse than my father beat her. Dad of course wished death on him. And.. the man died. Yup! He fucking died of a heart attack. The guy was only 40. He died about two years after they married. She is a bit down on her luck right? Well, after that she is accused of stealing money from her employer to the tune of 30k. And then her father dies. Not that she was sad to see him go.. but she lost her husband, her job and her father in less than 6 months. She moved to minnesota.

Her daughter, my step-sister (who is also very beautiful) got pregnant when she was 19 (my step sisters mom got pregnant when she was 17, her grandmother was 17 and her great grandmother was also 17 when she got pregnant).

I'll tell her story some other time. I recently made an attempt to speak to my step-sister. I have seen her once in 11 years. Apparently she is married now and has two children. I met her daughter who is now 7 when she was 3. I was shocked to see that her daughter looked exactly like her when she was that age. She was adorable. I had dreams for years that I should go back and marry her to be the father of that child.

I would venture to say that the woman that was my step-sister is the single most important woman in the history of my life (with the exception of my mother). Until tonight I have never revealed anything about her in this journal. We have a history unlike any other. Maybe I will tell that story.

Anyway.. back to my father...

I can't even think really. I have written too much already. Maybe later.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Again.. fucked up.. read my last post when (from which was written in a fucked up state) and I write like a fuck up when I am fucked up.

Listening to the Zombies- she's not there.

Listening to the mummies- stronger than dirt

this reminds me of the punk rock/emo girl from today. She is remiscent of the women in Austin, all of which I had crushes on from the tressle of my shirt... uh oh... anyway... nonsense

so, the girl.. punk-hardcore-emo... hot. She was a co-worker of mine at the new bar... she retired from there today... she quit.. she cuts hair! So I hit on her because I was fucked up and fucking happy... she acts dumb.. she was dumb.. has a kid.. that is fucked up.

No baggage.

I don't want a girlfriend really.. I just want that fucking attention..

So the girl and I make conversation.. she gives me her number and tells me to call her.

Then.. there is the other girl... Sara.. sara is a woman working at a coffeeshop in the area.. she is very warm to me.. however she is not so friendly to anyone else... she admits this at least.. and she tells me how she had made an exception for me (in making overtures for conversation) and smiled widely and said I was so nice.

That was strange. I cannot remember the last time someone said I was 'nice'. But she was being coy in a way.

I am attracted to her. She says things like "that is fucking retarded" and she was the first to reduce a conversation to feces in a conversation between her a friend of mine and I. Very funny. She is very much a skeptic and sarcastic. Very sexy. She seems like the type of girl I could drive down to Cornell and have a good time with. So... she essentially admitted to me she is attracted to me.

Then there is that pretty Italian Girl. This is the second night she has made it to my bar. She came last night (a night after she saw me standing out by the bar I work at talking with the bouncers..drawing the conclusion I worked there....fnsh later

 

[clubfootedmijet]

They never tell you how much they love you...

I am on this fucking Mummies Kick. Rock and roll.. it's greasy!

I spilled some polish remover on the table.. nauseating odors won't prevent me from writing..

Never anything new to report... I was thinking though..

You know what's not so cool about scoliosis? That if it's really bad, it makes girls look ugly.

I told a girl I was going on a fat bender the other night. Not that she asked, but she was asking for it. I noticed how she looked at the slight mass that hangs from my ribcage..I told her it was benign unless provoked.

I have a decent low mileage 89 plymouth grand fury that I am trying to trade for a decent low mileage retard. I don't care how he/she got retarded.. congenital birth defects, downsyndrome???!!? I don't care.. in order to write retard jokes.. I really have to observe them.. see what's so funny about retards. I will probably take my retard to places you wouldn't normally take them..

like dress them up in a lab coat, with a pair of glasses... and walk around with him.. in the mall.. and refer to him as 'Doctor' or Doctor Stupid??!? Whatever the retard wants, the retard gets!!

I don't like to fight much.. and I refuse to fight people who are bigger than me.. are you fucking kidding me.. I might get hurt! No.. I fight women.

Women are easy as FUCK to beat in a fight! I mean, have you seen a picture of me? I am fucking huge... and there isn't a motherfucking woman around who's ass I could not kick. You "tough guys" can fight other guys.. fuck that.. I am all about kicking the shit of women!


EDIT: You sissy's weren't offended were you?


I was bored. She was bored. So.. we fucked for hours. I have never seen a woman bleed like that.

My kind of woman is the kind that can take a punch in the gut.. get sloppy drunk, come to my house... vomit on my couch and shit my bed when she sleeps... waking me up gently with the sound of a shower running.. the shower she was taking before she was going to leave my apartment.

She'll say:

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you. Sorry about the bed. And.. uh.. about the beer.. I'll buy you more the next time we hang out. And uh.. Club.. did we fuck cause my pussy is fucking raw!"

As she walks out the door she say's "I think that looks cute" pointing to my arm, and then gives me a kiss on the cheek, gets in her car and drives off.

I look at my arm, it is covered by crusty trickles of blood. Her name has been carved into the side of my tricep.. she did it when I passed out... that is what I would come to learn.

My kind of girl.


The next time I see her she would be punk/hipster with her Ted Baker Sway skirt and Ben Sherman shirt... she'll even be wearing a head band.. with her hair pulled back.. to accentuate that piercing near her nostril above her lip... she'll wear black eye liner painted in an upslant. She'll be drinking a PBR... burping.. laughing with her horn-rimmed ironic blonde haired friend.. the one with bigger feet and ego.. they'll be ignoring the 'boys' trying to hit on them..

She'll see me.. and she won't care. She hasn't had enough to drink.

Not until she runs out of money... she'll come to me then. Her voice is raspy from smoke, booze and shouting she'll say...

"Clubby, could you buy me a beer?"

I'll say..

"Sure thing toots.."

Then she won't leave. She'll tell me what fuck ups her friends are, how her friend betty thought she had AIDS.. how her other friend Trish has a sweat rash from fucking on some guys pleather couch..and that the last time she had her period it looked like a black slug had been smeared in her underwear..

I'll say... FUCKING A

We'll buy a pitcher and be drunk.. she'll lead..

When we get back to my house she'll have me so pissed off that I punch holes through walls.. that I break tables...that I cut my hand for punching the stack of dishes I hadn't cleaned in a week.

I'll stand in front of her.. bleeding.. angry.. and wanting to knock her fucking teeth out..

She'll lift up my bloody hand... and kiss it.. blood on her lips.. she'll put my hand on her back and wrap my arms around her.. while she kisses me and tells me how she wants to fuck...

I tell her I have to piss first but I am too drunk to get to the bathroom.... she walks me to the bathroom and unzips my pants for me.. pulls out my dick and holds it for me while I piss.. shakes it... and holds me up long enough to get to the bed..

She hands me a pill.. tells me "Take this, for me." I take it.. she climbs on top of me.. with my bloody hand in hers.. being gentle.. kissing it.. pulling glass out of it. She reaches between my legs and squeezes my cock.. getting me hard... she pulls my pants down .. lifts her skirt.. pushes her underwear to the side.. and starts to ride me.. she rides me forever.. I ask her what she gave me.. she tells me Viagra. Fucking cunt..


This is love.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

You're fucking Queer. Shopping gave me AIDS!

Why do I bother?

I make the effort about once every two months to purchase new clothing. Why..

Existential Angst.. I know I am not alone.

Why is it that a designer cannot make an item of clothing advertised as an XL fit properly? They never fit my arms, they never hang off the shoulders correctly.

I feel like a moron trying on clothing. The woman assisting me with trying to find clothing was humored with my struggle.

"Stop working out" she says.

I know her intentions were benign, but still.. when I am this frustrated.. she is lucky to not have sufferred the wrath of a blunt criticism.

I know there are other more pressing world issues to lament, but....

When you start seeing grey.. learn to LOVE it! Especially the shades, it means that your efforts have been effective. Weight loss baby, it's where it is at when you are an egoist!

It is hard to be fashionable.


For me:

Style by Default



I am still looking for a decent pair of kicks. I am thinking Saucony's. Light, cheap... and breathable. Perfect for breakdancing practice. I also found some PUMA's that I liked.

Yes, I break dance. I never mentioned that either. Maybe I have.

Been going to practice consistently now for like 4 weeks. Getting itchy though.. haven't been out to a club to break a move in about that long.

Fucking clothes...


I decided to decline a position at the ISP I interviewed for. I enjoy my job bouncing more than I ever thought I would. I suppose it has something to do with the drugs and the people and the ease with which my job is performed.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Tonight was a significant improvement over last night.

All together this week has been good to me. Things are moving forward on an idea I pitched to my 'agent'. We are planning to arrange a meeting in July to keep the momentum going on this project.

The project is under wraps until I have some sort of confirmation or money in my pocket.

Aside from that...

Last night I went out to dance. However, for some reason I sufferred from a debilitating bout of depression. No particular reason why. I just walked into the club and it hit me all at once. I felt detached from the people and unnattractive. Thus.. I lost all my confidence. Although last night I did manage to come up with some great comedy.

Something about one of the bouncers I used to work with... he is a complete and total 'Herb'. He says the most preposterous and inappropriate things. So.. I made a comment about how attractive this one guy was, how he should have no problems scoring... but not to let Leland molest him... like he tried to me... he stuck his hand down my pants and told me he just wanted to touch the hair...

of course in the proper context.. and delivered properly.. this was a hilarious joke.. obviously it meant to gross you out.. to be creepy.. oh my god did we laugh...and dry heave.. Greg literally fell out of his seat after I said it.

I was also commenting on my beard.. the reason I have it is that I have a fat face... and this other guy who also had a fat face chimed in to commiserate.. I had seen him several times in the bar.. and I told him that I always thought we looked similar.. and I asked him.. So do you feel as ashamed of yourself as I do..I would, especially if someone told me I looked like me...

Someone finally asked me how I could "just" say such things...


Lack of Fear is the answer.

I then went off on the possibility's of a retard talent show. Bring your retard to win you a trophy... like.. one of the winners would be a retard who could read a paragraph from a book without sounding retarded. The possibilities for that joke are almost endless...


so.. yes.. the comedy was good... (btw, if you are judging my humor as not being all that funny, I assure you that when I am telling you the jokes.. you would laugh.. it is ALL about delivery and timing)

Then tonight started out slow. I went to dance again at a different club.


I stand against pole with my arms folded bobbing to and fro.. basic big man dance.. without moving... and these two women walk up. One is a thick sloppy Italian girl with a pretty face, the other is a beautiful red head with green eyes and a "smoking" little body. She was about 5'6 and 120lbs (generally too small for me) but in her case it was ok.. and she looks at me, at her friend.. and her friend goes and dances with this black dude.. she comes over to me and starts rubbing her hips into me.. fuck.. I wasted no time... I got into a groove and we danced...it was great.. all my dance practice has paid off I found... it is much easier to keep balance now and I move more fluidly... we danced for a few songs... and we danced well together.. she followed my lead the whole time.. my hands were all over her hips and ass pulling her into me.. pushing her away.. bringing her in close.. .. god.. it felt good to feel desirable again.. I almost prefer dancing to sex.

Why? Well, because there are no expectations. I don't feel responsible for making her come and living up to an ideal I have formed in my head...nope, with dancing.. you can get that connection... and the touching.. the sexuality.. and all that beautiful tension.. you can sweat.. and prolong the pleasure without climax... and you can do it with someone you don't know.. and not have to worry about getting AIDS, Herpes..so on and so forth.. you can kiss.. you can hug.. you can keep moving.. and feed off the energy of the other person..and if you're lucky you can do it to decent music..

I didn't bother to get the girls number. After we were done, she held my hand and lingeringly held onto it as she walked away, smiled seductively and thanked me for the dance. Then she walked away.

That about made my fucking week.


There are other developments. I made a 'friend' of sorts online. The guitarist for a band on this website:

http://www.mtv.com/asm/amp//

I am not going to list the band. But they are big in their area and in a particular scene. Fuck, even people I know around here are familiar with them.

He has been coming to me for advice on weightlifting and diets. It is interesting, he used to weigh 200lbs.. at 5'6.. now he weighs 130lbs.. we got into a long discussion about weightlifting and body dysmorphia.. his contention was that he wanted to tone his body, and I advised him to box or breakdance. He didn't like the answer as he wanted to lift weights, I made him understand his psychological predisposition to body dysmorphia. And how as having been a former fatty.. no matter what you do your appearance will always consumer your thoughts.. this was problematic in that if he wanted to lift weights, I told him he would notice the strength and size gains.. and then become addicted to it. He would become addicted to the look, and again he would go down the feckless path of perpetual self-improvement.. to the point of diminishing returns.. kind of like me. I told him how I wished in some ways I never started lifting weights.. because now.. I can never stop. I tried to turn him onto a physical hobby, like biking, breakdancing, yoga.. since he is concerned about fitness.. I told him let the body come to him as a result of a participation in a fun physical activity as opposed to making the effort in a gym. Why? Because he did not want to get "big".

Now if he were a woman, or just your basic newbie lifter.. I wouldn't worry about the effects of the change in his body and the effects on his mental well being...but addictive personality disorders tend to take things to extremes. Bah.. basic pop psych... of course the conversation was more in depth than this summary of it..

But the news is that when his band comes up to the area.. he is putting me on the guest list! And yes, I think I am cool.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Life is like....


So, there is this girl... her name is Sara. Sara and I get along very well. She is the barrista at the coffeeshop I frequent most often. My initial impression of her fell along the lines of apathy. She seemed apathetic and the feeling was mutual. However, after one night at work.. where I made a request to see her I.D. to verify her age... she seemed as though I made an attempt to slight her. My response to having 'shattered' her sensativities humored her.

When I went in for coffee the following week, she asked to see my I.D. I obliged. And from there we got on very well. She is one of the few women (let alone the general populace) with whom I can get along with. She seems truthful, ironic, funny and critical. When we spend time together we laugh most of that time.

Now.. for me... when I have a particular "type" of good time with someone.. I tend to ponder the meaningfulness of the time we spent together.. maybe she is a prospect for some form of relationship.

The difference between the time I spend with Sara and most other women is that I am not the one making the effort to find something to talk about. You can deduce that if I am the one making the effort in any conversation that the interest is shared by only one party in the conversation.

So, I am recieving some bona fide.. genuine... sincere interest. When the interest is real, I tend to believe that that person is attracted to me.

Then, I go into her shop this past Saturday and.. Sara is not working. I ask for her, and her roommate who also works at this coffeeshop says:

"Can I get you anything, that is not Sara?"


The roomate drops the ball.

I laugh it off and order a coffee. But now, it appears that my interest in Sara is more dominant than hers in me. Which, I don't mind. But I don't want to give off the impression that I am the one courting her. Why? Well, because when it is made too obvious the tension will break. The tension is the best part of the 'chase' and if you end it too soon, there is no reward. She will lose interest, or I would lose interest.

That night I go to a bar and she is there. Sara comes up and says hello. I tell her what happened at the coffeeshop. I relate to her that I think her friend is convinced that I am 'interested' in her.

Sara was drunk. So.. I don't know what she understood.

Later that night her friend sees me at this bar and runs over to Sara. Whispers in her ear (I am certain she meant to be obvious). Sara then walks over to me and I tell her that I am aware of what is going on. Of course, I was more clever with my words. I made a comment on her drunkeness. She laughed.


I didn't see her again until last night.

Last night I went to a biker bar before work. I went to the bar because there is another woman interested in me that works there as well as another woman I am interested in who works there.

The one interested in me was not working. The one I am interested in was working. She's the new object of my desires. I think yesterday she finally understood that I was interested in her. I don't know, but something about the way she smiled as she walked past me leads me to believe she knows something that I pretend to not want her to know about me.

The bar was packed. It always is. Lots of motorcycles and rock and roll. I sat at the bar. It was a hot day and I wanted mexican beer. Preferably Tecate in a can or Dos Equis draft. Nope, I had to settle for Corona which isn't all that bad either. But this hot weather reminds me of Texas. Texas weather is drinking weather in my opinion. So.. I ordered 4 shots of Yaeger Meister.. just like I used to in Austin... the bartender lines up the glasses... and hands me my second Corona. Now, I have an audience. I always have an audience for this. Not that I do it to impress anyone, but this is how I drink when I am serious.

I finish all 4 shots and drink half my beer in the time it takes the bartender to come back with my change. Everyone at the bar was noticeabley impressed. The bartender says "Holy Shit".

Now I have a buzz. Quickly that buzz turns in drunkeness. It is a great feeling. The hot weather, the constant chatter of conversation, the action.. it was beautiful. I hadn't felt so good being in one place for so long. Unfortunately I had to go to work in 20 minutes. I walk a couple blocks to work and then go to the cooler and smoke two bowls.

I am a bouncer.

I was 'fucked' up and burnt.

I am having a good time. There are many women for me to hit on. Then, Sara shows up with her roomate.

Initially I am upset because I am too fucked up to talk with her. But then I thought it was fitting considering the condition she was in last time I spoke to her. She gave me eyes and a smile. She tried to talk with me and her roomate antagonized me. I didn't want to participate in the conversation because I thought it would be obvious that I was so fucked up. I had to tell her that I was fucked up so that she wouldn't be mislead by my behaviour.

There were several times where I thought I had made my own grave because I was being so fucking stupid.

Then at the end of the night she came back in. The bartender pulls her aside and says:

"I think you have an admirer."

she says:

"I know. I think you should tell that person that I have a boyfriend in the military coming back from Iraq in late August."

The bartender tells me the story.

I laugh and say:

"I guess that is good news! She's essentially saying that I have until late August to make my move..so I'd better hurry up huh?"


So.. I sit back and think.. what the fuck.


Why didn't I see this coming? I mean, I did in that I always expect the worst. But in this situation I had gotten confirmation that she DIDN'T have a boyfriend from a party that knows her well.

So my feelings are of:

1. Confusion
2. Frustration
3. Disappointment
4. Curiousity

Then.. I think.. do I really care? The answer is no. I do care in that it felt good to believe that someone was interested or attracted to me. But now I doubt that attraction.

I discuss it with a friend and he believes that it was obvious that she made the effort from the beginning so it is no sweat off my back.

And.. I am going to go with that one. That is the winning attitude.


However, the next time I see her I will consider poking fun at the situation. This isn't the first time that this has happened.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Do you want to know how lazy I am?

I was in the bathroom, taking a shit, with about 50 comic books piled onto the floor. Why? Because my shits take a long time and when I have time to kill I like to be entertained.

(shit note: last night I was at a bar taking a leak, as I walk to the bathroom this "Rad" kid is waiting for his girlfriend to get out of the bathroom. I close the door and I overhear the door open and the kid ask two girls who came out together if they had seen his girl. They asked what she looked like. She was a cute short blonde with big boobs... they were like, "oh yeah, she's in there" he sighs and says "man" and the girls respond "it looks like it won't budge". I almost shit my pants. The kid makes a 'gross-out' noise and says "I really didn't want to know that." The girls laugh and walk away. I laughed almost hysterically.)

So I'm taking this shit. Usually I take off my shirt to shit. But I was in a hurry so I left the shirt on. And as I am sitting there looking at old comic books I am trying to decide if I want to take a shower. I did workout today and man did I work up a sweat. I started to think, fuck.. I don't smell that bad and it's not like I am going to get laid tonight.. I try to rationalize my lack of desire to take a shower when it is so obviously necessary. And what it boiled down to was pure and complete lazyness.

The truth is that I didn't want to take the shower because:

A. I didn't want to move all the comic books out of the bathroom.
B. I didn't want to take off my shoes and socks because they are too difficult to put back on after I am done taking a shower.


Honestly. That is why I did not want to take a shower.


I took the shower anyway.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

A recap on events:

Sara: we spoke. She doesn't know who her father is. I confirmed that she had an 'other' however she refers to him the way one might refer to a relative. We managed to keep each other entertained long enough to go to her car Saturday evening and smoke a joint. The tension is still there. The romance is not.

Last evening I spent at a friends house listening to music, getting stoned and talking. He has a nice little place on the hill, near a park and near decent Mexican food. He is by Syracuse University. The women in his neighborhood are beautiful and his apartment is unlike any apartment I have ever seen. He has a den of sorts above the garage seperate from the house. It has been remodeled and consists of several couches a plush rug and a small table. It is lit from the floor and really sets a mood. We stared out of his skylights and watched last evening thunderstorm.

Today was good. I had an excellent workout. I made an impression on a very attractive woman at the gym who lives above the place I work. I have decided that the next girlfriend I have will have to be as interested in fitness as I am. I find muscular women to be very sexy. Not bodybuilding women of the likes of a Bev Francis or Nicole Bass.. but a more sensual and muscular woman is a much more attractive one to me. A woman like that can appreciate the effort I put in at the gym.

After the gym I sat with a friend and had coffee. He was seeing his father for the first time in two years. Prior to that he had not seen him in 18 years. It explains much about my friend.

Then i worked....


This evening a ridiculously beautiful young woman came into the bar with her friends. Her two friends were of age but something was fishy about her I.D. She had a Conneticut I.D. and I thought that they had holograms of some sort on them. This girl had blonde hair, a tight muscular womanly little body.. she may have weighed 120lbs.. she was wearing tight jeans and a shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. She was fit, tan.. and her face was generic.. but soo beautiful.

I was high. Very high at the time she walked in and I did not want to consult the I.D. book to verify the I.D. so instead I read the back of her I.D. Fake I.D.'s like hers are sold online because they admit to not being a government I.D.

This is what the back of hers read verbatim, meaning all punctuation is as it is on the actually card:

"NOTICE
This is not transferable identification card
This card may be lawfully used and accepted for identification according to its class status.
It might be accepted everywhere the reason to accept seems to be the most satisfactory. The contents of this card in many cases mirror the information about the card holder, such as his first and last name, birth date.
It helps to prove the persons identity without consideration of person's birth certificate or national passport. This ID card does not substitute any government identification document of the bearer. Legal/1st amendment, non-government photo ID card."


I told her she couldn't come in. She asked for the card back and I told her that she could not have it.

They walked away. She was upset. Then five minutes pass.

The girl comes back and stands up real close to me, her shirt seems to have been pulled down to reveal more of her bosom, and she smiles and asks me if I would return her ID. She poses.
I tell her no.
She asks again, smiling and saying "pleassssseeee" leaning forward so I can see her breasts.
I say no.
She does it again, and this time gets closer to me.. uncomfortabley close as if she were going to touch me.
I don't move. I tell her no again.
She says "I'll do anything to get the ID back. I am just here from out of town and I really want that ID back can I please please please have it back."

No.

She then offers me money.

Now, I am very high at the time and all I am thinking about is that I have this very beautiful, nubile young woman standing in front of me throwing herself at my mercy. I have never felt so utterly dominant before (thanks to the pot). I pretend not to stare at her, but inside all I can think about is taking her to the backroom and having my way with her... and the whole time she actually wants me to... to exchange sex for the ID... it was on my mind.. and she was mine for the taking... it is as if the whole thing happened over the course of an eternity... the battle.. do I cave in and give this girl her I.D. because she is so goddamned beautiful.. or do I keep it. I wanted something out of it. I'll be damned if I give something like this away for free.. and while yes.. seeing her cleavage was nice.. it wasn't enough.


"No. Now leave the premises."

She walks off giving me longing eyes.

Fuck pretty. This girl will get more breaks in her life due to her beauty than I will get if I lived 10 lives. I'll be damned if I submit to her appearance and hope to get in her good graces so that I might have a shot at spending one night alone with her. I know it will never happen.

So on behalf of all the ugly people in this world, I kept that fucking I.D. and I don't feel the least bit guilty in doing so.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

I spent the last two days in the sun.

Day 1 I spent walking through the city.

Day 2 I spent walking through the woods.


After I got done walking through Green Lakes I drove down to the city and met up with a friend. He and I then met up with one of his friends. Liz.

Liz is blonde hair blue eyed girl who recently graduated from Bard. My first impression of her was that she reminded me of Michael J. Fox. She is a bit of a Tomboy in that she communicates with people as though she were a man. She burps, swears and can seem overly caustic at times.

We went to dinner and then we went to Breakdancing practice.

I gave her a ride to practice and to her home after we were finished. It turns out that Liz and I get along very well. She enjoys my sense of humor. Though hers at times would rival mine.

She is 21. She takes meds for her depression.

She is a composer.

We went back to her house and she invited me in to listened to her music..


Oh.. a phone call.....


And it is Liz... I am heading out to go pick her up. Will be back later to edit.


EDIT:

So Liz and I went out to the fingerlakes after she called. We went to one of my favorite places. A gully near my fathers home.

Liz looks like a prettier jodie foster.

I really don't have the energy to elaborate on her.

I will mention that she asked me twice if I was interested in her. And while yes my interest was piqued after spending time with her, I wouldn't go so far as to say that I am romantically interested in her. I am a bit frustrated by this development because I feel like I am being rejected before I have done anything.

That ain't even cool....

Liz is an interesting young woman. She is bright, funny and clever. She has that 'dark side'.. something that seems symptomatic of molestation or early childhood trauma. I have yet to pry. She tells me that there is an abundance of clinical depression on both sides of the family. She is very gaurded and very sensetive. She reminds me a lot of .. me. She is dry. Very dry. Whereas I am blunt (though i can be dry, I just feel it alienates people moreso than being blunt)

I don't know what the attraction to her is. She would never be a candidate for a girlfriend. She is far too unstable to be up for consideration. I suppose I feel sympathy.. or empathy... an understanding of what she is.

I enjoy the time I spend with her. Our little day trip yesterday was nice. She listens well and she isn't afraid to speak.

Anyway.. time to go find a party.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

A good friend of mine will be spending some time in jail:


http://www.wtvh.com/story.asp?stid=6167

http://www.wstm.com/Global/story.asp?S=1356689&nav=2aKCGqgq


http://www.syracuse.com/news/poststandard/index.ssf?/base/news-6/1041431765224890.xml

 

[clubfootedmijet]

My weight is down to 244lbs. My bodyfat percentage is hovering around 17%.

I am shooting for 230lbs.

Do you realize how much a pound is? Imagine what a pound of meat looks like...How much space it takes up and how it feels in your hand.

That is quite a bit of mass when you sit and contemplate it.

I have managed to consistently lose 2lbs a week for the past three weeks. When I visualize the amount of space 6lbs of fat takes up I can better appreciate my efforts.


The past few weeks have been difficult ones. Not for any one particular reason or event. Prior to the 4th of July my daily events have taken on a tone of way-wardness... or.. of exemptoraneousness...my day's are loosely planned and I find that I wander into and out of circumstances.


An example:

A friend of mine, a dreadlocked, blind in one eye, raspy voiced Irish B-boy who works at an alehouse as the bartender.. who barters with pot... he's overly aggressive and absolutely the most antagonistic individual I have ever met... has no inner monologue and is so utterly redundant that time spent with him can be a test of patience...

I watched him get bit in the face by an 80lb pitbull... on the 4th of july..

he had it coming.


Anyway, I gave him a ride back to his home for a joint. He lives in a seedy part of town, where all the prostitutes walk the streets, and kids sling crack.. his house is sparsely furnished... and is relatively messy....

(finish later with an edit)

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Not interested in finishing the edit.


I have more pressing issues on my mind.

A few years ago I used to believe that there was a cosmic force attempting to detur me from ever achieving something I would aspire to. Everytime I made an effort I would quickly fail as a result of an unforseen or random event. There was never a correlation between my efforts and the event. I was always left feeling puzzled and dejected. When events like these begin to compile one can't but help to notice that the reoccurance of unforseen events that derailed ones efforts seem to appear as though they were an act of will by something as mystical as the repetition of those events.

The last of those events occurred March 18th 2002. I deny responsibility for the events that preceed that date.

Since then life has been relatively interesting and event free.

I have gone into a state of self-preservation. I haven't taken the chances that I would normally be inclined to.

However, recently I have become more ambitious. As I begin to feel more secure about what I am doing I find that I am eager to leave my shell. My weight has dropped to a three year low of 242lbs as of this morning.

In the past week, as I notice the decline in weight I have become more confident in my appearance. It is not a voluntary reaction to the weight loss, but I feel good that I am achieving something I set out to achieve. In the past two weeks I have gone through 6 women. 6 potential romantic interests.

Each of them was flawed. At first I didn't notice this pattern. Then tonight happened.

I met Erin two days ago. It was almost serendiptious. Erin is of average height, with dark hair and large blue eyes. She is very attractive and sits at the cusp of being considered 'sleek'. I met Erin through someone I met just that day who's tattoo sleave was done by the individual I consider the best artist in this country and I have since gotten in contact with that individual.. someone I haven't seen in seven years... all was fortuidous...Erin turns out to be a massage therapist. And I ask her if she would be willing to work on me. I told her I need to be stretched for breakdancing and massaged for weight training. She is immediately interested in the Breaking. We start talking and she gives me her number. We meet up at practice the next day and all seems to be going very well. She laughs at my jokes, she is intelligent, she listens to good music and she likes to dance.

I invite her out to the club tonight. She agrees to go.

My whole day has been spent in preparation of this evening.

At 7:30pm I decide I need a nap. I can't sleep. All I think about is the potential relationship that could evolve from this... how Erin fullfills all my criteria:

1. Smart
2. Funny
3. Good Looking
4. Has a scar on her face (I don't know if I have mentioned it here but I have a thing.. bordering on fetish for women with scars on their faces.. not burn scars, scars from a cut)
5. Likes to dance
6. Is a massage therapist (perfect for me for powerlifting or bodybuilding)
7. Is young enough to want to try new things, not looking to settle down

Now I am getting excited.

The clouds in my area grew darker, they portend of things to come. We meet at barnes and noble. We talk. We joke. We go to the club. I start digging a little deeper. Asking her questions.. such as why she didn't get a college degree. At first she didn't have a clear answer. Then she drops the first and most damaging piece of information.

Erin has a two year old child.

She is immediately crossed off my list.

Then to add insult to injury: as the night goes on and the other breakers arrive we start teaching her some foundation. I decided that while I am not interested in a relationship with her, I am still interested in her. And so I try to talk her up a bit. I treat her as though I am interested in her and I make small sacrafices here and there...as you would someone you are romantically interested in... I was being considerate.. selfless..kind of putting myself on the line.

Erin loses her Florida ID.

I feel badly and help her look for it in this huge club that is packed with people. She decides to check the bathroom. She comes out and tells me to hold on. She goes back to where the last remaining breaker is (by this time it is 1 in the morning) and they start talking. They talk for 20 minutes as I am left in the lobby area to wait for her. Then she dissappears. I am concerned. I look around for her and 10 minutes pass, then i notice she on the dance floor dancing with this kid. The kid is an Ashton Kutcher look alike...and now.. I am miserable.

Watching them dance I immediately felt possessive. I was so fucking angry that I waited around for this girl and she opted to disregard me by chatting with this kid and then going out on the floor to dance with him. Her hands were all over him and watching this made my heart rate triple.

I was so fucking angry. I don't even know how to express it. I felt badly because I was so angry and I didn't feel as though I had a right to.. but I really was. She came with me. She knew I was waiting for her in the lobby. We were going to leave. Together.

I took this very personally. I don't understand why. I was not interested in a relationship with her once finding out about this child she had. But I can't help but to feel as though she would have a bit more respect for me considering I was the one who invited her out, that I was the one who made all the effort to be in her presence and that had it not been for me she wouldn't be learning how to dance at all.

And then it dawned on me.. the cycle is beginning to repeat itself.

I am making poor decisions again.

In the last several weeks there has been:

Shera
Sara
Liz
Shannon
Kim
Kelly
Erin

Kelly is hands down the 'Coolest' of the women and the one who keeps my attention the most but there is an astericks next to her name.

Kelly is very pretty. She has tattoo's.. she is my age.. she is self sufficient and makes a lot of money.. she shares my discriminations and can identify with my many failures.. she has a small dog.. she listens to excellent music.. she dresses very well.. and she takes care of herself.. in a way.. Kelly is the one who approached me.. inviting me over to her house the other evening..

But kelly is overweight. We are talking upwards of 80-90lbs overweight. I am attracted to the way she thinks... and I really enjoy spending time with her.. but I cannot get past the fact that I am not physically attracted to her body.

Kelly used to be a drug addict coke.. heroin.. there isn't anything she didn't do... she is a rich kid who went bad.. she self-destructed... this is what I identify with. This is what I like about her. She also used to be thin. But she has a classic case of addictive personality disorder... she works two jobs, 80 hours a week.. drinks heavily.. and is something of a perfectionist. She is the manager of the premiere salon in the area.. she loves money.. She reminds me of Leah.

I enjoy her flaws.. but this weight thing... I am not one to make suggestions to people like her.. with as severe an intellect as she has.. and as sensative as she likely is.. she would interpret my suggestion as a weakness... and though it may be a weakness.. it is also a strength.

I have decided in recent weeks.. prior to meeting kelly... that I didn't want to be with anyone who didn't take care of their bodies. It isn't because I am shallow. It is because weight training is an integral part of my life. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't appreciate the effort I put into the gym.. I want to know that if I go on a diet.. that someone will be there watching my back and helping me. That I can have someone to commiserate with... Weightlifting is part of who I am...

I think Kelly could give two fucks..

Still though.. I conspire to find a way to get her into the gym. To get her to diet. She could drop 50lbs in 4 months easy.


What bothers me even more is that she really has the 'look' I like. She has the eyebrows, the tatts.. the shape of the eyes.. the lips.. the chin.. jaw..her face is perfect...

But yet again.. there is that 1 flaw... the weight... but like I said.. she suffers from apd... and that alone makes her unstable.. so if it wasn't the weight it would be something else I am sure...

Leah isn't perfect either. Leah has devoted her life to her work. I am going to keep Kelly in my life for the time being. I might get a better understanding of Leah through kelly...

Something else I may have discovered:

My ex-girlfriend always believed that Leah felt something deeper than plutonic friendship for me.. and I might be inclined to agree after our encounter this past April...

But through Kelly.. and my restrained interest in her.. (it could be interpreted as leading her on) I am aware that I could have romantic interests in Kelly if it weren't for this 1 thing. And the way I treat and interact with kelly is comparable to the way that Leah and I were way back when...

I am that sad.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

It was one of those evenings.

Recent events contributed to the coincedence that is the full circle.


Last evening I saw:

Classmates I haven't seen since 1995.
Liz
Erin and the Ashton Kutcher looking Bboy - they came to my bar.
My ex-girlfriend - the real ex.. not the psuedo ex's that I refer to as my ex's.. as they all have been nothing more than girls I used to date for either brief periods of time or extended periods of time.

Seeing the ex was really what completed this string of events.

She happened to come to my bar to drink while I was out getting sushi.


I was shocked to see her to say the least. I thought she was in Europe. She had recently returned home and was spending her last night in Syracuse with a friend of hers at my bar.

I look a bit different than the last time she saw me. I had just returned from Austin when I saw her decemeber. Now I am about 20lbs less than before. She noticed.

She doesn't look any older than she used to, which I suppose is good.. for her.


She didn't fail to cause a bit of drama. No thanks to her friend, a former manager of hers she used to work with when we dated. Her friend took the liberty of taking a few jabs at me when the conversation turned to her grad party. * I refused to attend the party because I would have to be in the company of all her ex-boyfriends... all of us have fucked her. And for her to request that we come together for her benefit seemed a bit selfish to me...especially considering the circumstances of our relationships to each other.* Anyway.. they were deriding my accomplishments, Mindy is dating a man who has a masters degree.. currently in the process of getting his PHD.. he is a professor at a state college and lives at home with his parents. As though a measure of an individuals success is decided by the length of his/her list of academic surperlatives. I didn't get too involved in the conversation.. it was a petty quible to say the least. Then the friend took a shot at my receding hair line. I don't mind someone criticizing my decisions as they are wholly my choices and are meant to reflect who I continue to be.... but to pick at something that I have no control over... pockshots like that are unwarranted and I react decisively to them.

I quickly retorted with a comment about the womans significant weight gain since the last time I had seen her. This woman was always attractive, blonde and intelligent with two master degrees...apparently her confidence was a fragile facade because it looked as if her entire ego was shattered in a single sentence. She quickly retreated behind a veil of self-righteous indignation.

I didn't apologize but to her. It set the tone for the rest of the evening.

She walked away and I apologized to Mindy for possibly ruining her evening.

I spent the rest of the night laughing about that little incident. I hadn't intended to ruin her evening as it was a product of circumstance. Still though, it humored me.


So what was meaningful about the evening? Why does it complete the circle?

Perhaps it served more as a reminder. Mindy was one of the worst decisions I had ever made. I felt robbed of my dignity when were dating. I feel that maybe I have been trying to recoup some of that loss ever since I broke up with her. That this insensative, coarse, shallow, chauvanistic persona that everyone seems to respond to is the only method with which I have to reclaim all that I lost in that relationship.

I have never been one to not admit to my weaknesses. And I am very aware of the cartoonish nature of my behavior.. but emotionally.. I am a child.

When I was considering Erin as a girlfriend.. I began to lament the responsibility's I would acquire in dating her. I began to anticipate how I would break it to her that I was not interested in a relationship with her and how it may hurt her feelings. How that would hurt me.

I was excited about the drama but loathed the thought of making an effort.

I am always excited by drama. Familiarity breeds apathy and I fear feeling apathetic towards the object of my desire. Even as a child I used to cry to my Mother about how I didn't want to get old because I would no longer be interested in my toys. I was in hysterics. I even remember the conversation. I was petrified at the thought that these things that I loved so much would in the future bring me no pleasure. No one would say that I was a happy child. I have always dwelled on sufferring in some form or another.

I enjoy misery.


I have spent my life longing for one thing or another. It is all that I know. And maybe it is all that I want. I am comfortable with failure so long as the failure is the result of a half-assed effort.

Real failures send me to the abysmal depths of depression. I work hard to avoid genuine depression. But I like to reach it's event horizon. I like to feel the nagging ache of bittersweet sadness.



I am thinking of moving to NYC. Everything I enjoy about large city's finds it's origin in New York. I don't need to travel to California to experience diversity.


Time for some cardio

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Drama.


I am crossing the precipice, I can feel it. The last two evenings I have spent at two different womens houses. Night one was spent at Sara's, Night two was spent at Kelly's.

Sara invited me over to her house at the end of the evening Saturday. We spent the night talking. She finally admitted to the fact that she had aggressively pursued me. Why I asked. She said that I was giving. I was puzzled. That she said and that I make her laugh. When I pressed her about this her belief that I was giving she stated that of all the people that she has met I was one of the few people who was genuinely nice to her. I am still undecided as to what exactly she means by this, the answers are a bit ambiguous. Not that I should be so concerned.


Last evening I was at Kelly's. She stopped by my work and invited me over at the end of the night. I got to her house and we proceeded to talk. As the night wore on she got a little more comfortable with me and started kissing my arm, then she would wrap her arms around my neck and cuddle up to me. The conversation began to die down and I felt compelled to leave. Kelly wasn't going to let me leave without something. She started kissing my neck, my cheek.. she started biting my ears. I had to push her aside and tell her no. Not now. The time isn't right.

I felt badly about stopping her, I didn't want her to percieve it as though I was rejecting her, but that I was rejecting this aspect of the time we spend together. This is what I would do with any woman who moved so fast. Women who move fast make me nervous. Not that they are slutty, I mean I love sluts as they make for some of the most interesting romances... but it demonstrates a lack of genuine confidence.

I am a talker. I don't know if you could categorize 'lovers'.. but if you were to I suppose I would be a talker. Intimacey can be expressed in so many different ways.. I just choose conversation.

I like to learn. I like to demystify women. They always end up feeling closer to me in the end and I have learned to view that as my 'reward'. Women like to say things like, "No one understands me as well as you do." Or "No one has ever figured me out like you have." "Why do you want to know so much?" ...even Sara spoke these words the other evening. "_______ I feel that you really understand me."

A woman who doesn't let me explore her mind won't get the satisfaction of having me explore her body. So... as it relates to fast moving women.. if I don't feel as though I understand them yet, I won't 'fool around' with them.


In all likelyhood I won't be selecting Kelly as a girlfriend so I don't want to lead her on. Now I am in a position where I have to delicately balance my words with my intentions and actions. I am already in a tricky situation in that I don't want her to feel rejected and then be twice as upset when she sees me with another woman..


And that is the thing.. I couldn't be with anyone exclusively at this point in time. Not as I am preparing to leave again. I am getting into that mode, that single mindedness is taking hold of my behavior and gathering momentum for my trip out west.

Talk myself in circles.

I have to go lift.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Fuck


I ended up explaining to Kelly that I wasn't interested in a relationship. She opted for the "if we can't be lovers then we can't be friends" option.

That was a week ago.


Then Liz.. this has become interesting.

Liz tried calling a week ago. Liz questioned me about being interested in her previous to her trip to Georgia. I told her to fuck off.... she was being presumptious.

She comes back and she calls me. We eventually end up spending time together on Sunday. The day started out plutonic enough. I picked her up. We drive around and end up at a coffeeshop. We talk.

I am too tired to complete this.... must sleep

 

[clubfootedmijet]

So to complete the story...

we are at the coffeeshop.. sharing. Now to appreciate the circumstances you must understand that Liz is a very guarded individual. Liz is very smart, and has recently become very attractive. Previous to 'blooming' liz wore braces, glasses, was about 15lbs heavier and had a little bit of acne. Liz is maybe 5'1 and now about 103lbs. She earned a degree in Dance and Music Composition from a prestigious liberal arts college downstate. I met her through a mutual friend who I practice breakdancing with. She is incredibley athletic, and looks like a prettier Jodie Foster. Now being that Liz is so intelligent and was treated so poorly through her formative years, she is a bit cynical, overly critical, anti-social and altogether sensative. Now that she recieves so much attention from men since her appearance has improved she struggles to be ladylike. She never developed the social skills that would allow her to gracefully extingiush any sexual overture made on the part of a man who might hit on her. She is easily threatened by men and instead of being nice about it, she is very abrupt and downright cruel. Thus, when she couldn't tell as to whether or not I was hitting on her she decided to ask me. I really don't like that. It is childish.

So I blew her off. I think that by blowing her off it created interest or curiousity.

We talk. Being that she is so sensative and imature I never developed a romantic interest in her but she remained a curiousity. We found out that we have a lot in common.

Liz doesn't really know how to be affectionate so instead she will behave like a child to demonstrate her interest, either by laying on my lap, jumping on my back... punching me.. she is very playful. When she does this I find myself caressing her. Rubbing her thighs, her legs, all of her muscles...(this is a bit of a fetish of mine, I am very attracted to muscular women and Liz has a dancers body so all of her muscles are well developed) so this caressing becomes a bit more intimate. Liz will say things like "I don't understand why you are so nice to me." or "I never let anyone touch me and I find it strange that I let you touch me"... this is basic manipulation. She is seeking attention. However, with Liz it becomes more obvious that she uses her sexuality to acquire affection/attention .. as she begins insinuate that we should have sex.

For example the next day Liz calls me on the phone and says "I had a dream. We were having sex." or.. the day after she calls and the first thing she says is "I don't have AIDS." referring to her recent medical exam.

Our time together becomes more and more intimate.. now we are at the point where I regularly have her naked and she lets me do whatever I want with her.

I haven't had sex with her. Not yet at least. The reason being that I genuinely like Liz and I feel that if we fucked... it will change the nature of our relationship. A womans vagina is connected directly to her heart. Now Liz would have me believe that no man has touched/understood her in the cliche'd way that I have... and perhaps if I were younger I might fall for this ploy...

The way this is supposed to work is that I fall in love with Liz and then someday soon tell her how much I care about her and how she is so unique and that I haven't felt this way for anyone ... this would bolster her ego. She would of course deny me and I would be one more person who's heart she has broke.

Or... she is just eager to see my big dick and really wants to fuck and will lose interest in me if I don't capitalize on breaking down her barriers.

Liz is a very sexual person. She spends more time talking about sex than anyone I have ever met short of Leah. Liz reminds me a lot of Leah just as Kelly did. I can't help but to romantacize this in hopes that all these women are preparing me for my next attempt at Leah.


So what do I think will happen with Liz?

I think that this will quickly burn out. I don't think I am going to fuck her. I give this about one more week, if that, of life before she bores of me because I won't play her game.

Or.. Liz might break down and decide that she actually has a sincere romantic interest in me and I will spend the rest of my summer with this girl and having fun.

Of the two scenario's which would I prefer? I am undecided. I think Liz is a sophisticated but emotionally unstable young woman who is struggling to find her identity. And like all brilliant 20 somethings she is making life more complicated and dramatic than it needs to be to sustain her fragile ego.


I can go both ways.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Lapse of.... or how hearts break

Last night he came through for me. Brought me 90mg's of morphine. It was nothing like I expected. I chased it with a bowl of goo. There was no euphoria. I felt high, slow and languid. I was expecting elation.

No doubt, I felt good. Just not as good as I had hoped for.

Liz and I both.


Liz and I ended up spending the night at her house. We arrived home sometime around 3 in the morning. I carried her into the bedroom. I laid her down and we talked for a moment.

I finally made an effort and she recieved it with open arms. I will go into details later. I haven't slept in some 40 hours. I am hallucinating.

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Kelly stopped by the bar tonight.

She decided to start talking with me again. It had been two weeks since I last spoke with her. What compelled her to come back? I don't know. A deep desire to be with me I suppose. A false hope? When she decided that we could not be friends if we couldn't be more than friends I obliged. I didn't bother to try to talk to her or call her. I was let down we couldn't be friends but I wouldn't torture myself over it.

Apparently she has. It has me concerned. She wasn't behaving normal. She was creating drama over my unwillingness to compromise. Compromise implies that we might become more than friends, or that I do not attempt to obstruct the possibility. Eventually she caved and decided that she would take what she can get from me. If I sound cruel, it is not my intention. I am adament in my position and I understand her well enough to be presumptious.

Again I believe she has rarely been told no.

This does create a dilemma. Lately I have been spending a large amount of my time with Liz. I spend so much time with her that I didn't even lift weights today. This was fine with me. I am still trying to recover from the weekend.

Liz dropped by today in her Fathers sports car. She was wearing heals and a skirt. She wore the heals because I convinced her they would look good on her yesterday. I didn't expect her to wear them today.

Liz and I have not had sex yet. We have been intimate but it has been awkward as I have been denying her sex. Liz wants to have sex, desperately she wants to have sex with me. I have put it off for about four straight days since she openly stated her desire. Though I have put it off I have been putting a lot of effort into breaking down these walls she has set up so that I feel comfortable enough to have sex with her. All it seems that liz knows is geeky, goofy, childish sex. Kiss kiss, touch touch and they do it. That is what she knows. At least, that is what she leads me to believe she knows.

I have been trying to get her to kiss more. To express her affection and her desire to be affectionate by being subtle and gentle and then moving into something more akin to passion. She has said that all she is passionate about is sex. She hasn't mislead me. Slowly though she is coming around. Unfortunately all that I seek to do with her could easily be interpreted as romance. Maybe it is. But even if the goal is casual sex I like it to feel like the real thing. I want good sex. Not cheap sex. Why make such an effort right?

Liz is at the brink. She is either going to fall for me soon or she is going to push me away. I too am coming upon that precipice. I want her to fall before I do. I want her to make the leap of faith. If she leaps, so to speak, the sex we will have will be great. It will be better than anything she has ever had before and it will probably be similar to my previous experiences.

Sounds trite.

I am 26. I have had lots of sex. I know what I like. Sex is dirtier, it is more fullfilling, it is raunchier, it is more sophisticated and it is plain better when you care about the person you are with. I am only going to care about Liz when she demonstrates that she cares about me.

I am not trying to be a teacher, though i think that is somewhat a role I have adopted in this relationship and I don't mind it, I am not trying to change liz for her own good, to be her savior.. no. I am trying to do what is best for me if I am going to have sex with Liz. It just happens that I think that what is best for will also be what is best for her. She doesn't need to be my girlfriend, she just has to care.

Why do I want her to care?

Because I know that if she did, the sex would probably be unlike any sex I have even had before. She is smart, aggressive, creative, funny... she is almost perfect. She just represses so much... I want to let it out. I want to know what her passion feels like. It is such a turn on. I want her to be vulnerable and so far she isn't budging. There are these hints of vulnerability, the effort she makes and the subsequent emotions when her efforts aren't reciprocated with sex.

Today she says:

"We spend so much time together, you touch me, you convince me that I am pretty, you make me laugh, you make me feel good, and yet you won't have sex with me."

Or something like that.. close enough.. As nice as that sounds to me.. it isn't enough.

She tries to kiss me. But her lips thin out, and she pulls back. When I look at her she doesn't look me in the eyes. She tries, she tries to kiss me. It makes me believe that I am a bad kisser, and to be honest, I haven't been kissing her as well as I could be because she is such a shy kisser.

Tomorrow, if things work out, she is going to be an excellent kisser or she is going to teach me how she likes to be kissed. Kissing is absolutely necessary for great sex.

It is all about connecting, and we cannot connect correctly if we can't kiss each other well.

Ranting...

 

[clubfootedmijet]

Where are we now?

So I have a story to tell...

Liz and I have been trying to have sex all week. Liz is persistent in her attempts to persuade me to have sex with her. I back off for two reasons. But then i decide I want to have sex on Friday. We don't have anywhere to go, hotels are too far away and I have 90 minutes to get to work. So, we go to a bar in the middle of the city as I know that there is a third bathroom for the disabled and two others. The mens bathroom conviniently has condoms so we swing over. I run to the mens room and the condoms aren't there. From there we drive back to a store to buy some condoms. We drive back, go to the bathroom.
As I have gotten older I have mastered the art of repressing my sexual desires, so I no longer get hardons on the drop of a dime. Now I am relaxed up until the point the woman and I are going to fuck. In this situation I was letting my control loosen up. I got her clothes off and her bent over a sink, I am slapping her ass one hand between her upper thighs touching her...I am biting her back.. licking her ears and and neck...I squeeze her hard and pull her head back by her hair.. I slap her ass again.. and break open the condoms.. As soon as I am about to get the condom on, someone tries to open up the door. That's it, I was done. I got so fucking shy I couldn't continue. It's not that I went limp because I have a problem, it's because I was distracted and nervous.
I was disappointed and played it off like it was due to a desire to be in a more meaningful place or something.. which in part is true.
Now Liz and I have been spending every day with each other for the last 14 days.. and for hours on end.. it has been strange for me. I keep repeating that this will all end soon so I shouldn't expect much and started to realize the amount of time we spend together was more than I had ever spent with anyone I just met.
Anyway... I was thinking a few days back that her and I might consider taking a break from each other before we kill the chemistry with over indulgence. However she was PMSing and her mood swings allowed me to demonstrate my domincance and couth in the relationship... she said a few things to get my attention and I called her on it, she was testing me. That is the only purpose of seperating for a bit, to see if you are still interested when you come back.. anyway.. I call liz to see if she is around and she isn't.. she turned off her cell phone. I drive over and she said that she turned off her cell phone so she could be alone today. Then she told me she expected that I would show up as a result.
That irked me. It irked me because I considered not showing up very heavily. But I went with what I thought seemed to be more dominant by expecting something of someone else. When I got there she said that she said we spend every day together. It seems excessive is what she said. I said that was fine and told her I was leaving. I left.

The rest of the day I spent wondering if I did any of the right things. How it would be interpreted. I at first thought I played it right when my thoughts become more dour. This is it this the end. I am upset that I never made good on our time together.

The night gets longer and I get angrier. I try to console in a few aquaintences who's outlooks seems to mirror mine. Then I start wondering if she won't show up. I even anticipate her arrival, and if she does show that means this isn't over just yet.

She doesn't show. Now I am nervous. I can't stop lamenting over the situation. How I finally after such a long wait (Since Leah) have found someone I genuinely desire to spend quite a bit of time with. She ends up making the comment in the weak that if I ever expect a woman to care for me talking about leah in the way that I do would make it difficult for any person to get close. (That is the point) try to protect a fantasy.

So.. I am very sad. How could I blow this, why did I get involved... this girl was a child music prodigy writing music at the age of 8.. she graduated from a college I wanted to attend downstate. She is interesting, funny, sexy and athletic.. she is shy in the ways I like women to be shy and outspoken in every way I want her to be. She makes me laugh so much the thought of not being able to spend time with her gnaws at me. If this were to end, I would never talk to her again. Unlike Kelly, I keep my promises. So I began to fear loss. This is not where I wanted to be.

I drive home after hell breaks loose at work and there is no message on the answering machine. I check the last call to our phone number and it is her, she called some 2 hours after I went to her house.

So, she wants to talk. That is more promising than what I thought I was going to have to do. Which is to not make any effort to contact her at all. Tomorrow I give her 50% chance that she will call. So.. I am in a better position now than I was the last we saw each other.

But now I wonder if I want to continue with this. I have a sincere interest in her and the thought of appearing vulnerable in front of her only to lose her interest after doing so weighs heavily on my conscious. This is what I anticipate to happen if we pick this up and go forward.

Either way, I am happy to know that she tried calling me even if that is the end.

On top of that this other Liz I have mentioned in this journal is trying to contact me. She emailed me and then called me last night. It was so strange to hear from her. Here are the emails she sent me:

Email 1:
"hey,

just writing to see if you still check this email address. i hope so. i'm in austin for the summer, and though i'm fairly sure you're back in new york, i keep looking out for you. i'm not sure if you know or not, but i'm living in london now. it's wonderful, and i'm very happy there.

anyway, no point writing a lengthy email if i don't get a reply, so.... i hope you're well. i'd love to see you if you're still in new york. i'm going to the east coast for a month in a couple of weeks.

take care,
elizabeth


Email 2: after i reply to her email

" , i'm so happy you replied... a little shocked too. but you did. i'm very pleased to hear you're still writing, or a least practising till inspiration strikes. perhaps you need a muse. (cue trashy hollywood script)





.......................................this signifies much time passing........................................







.....................................here's some more...............................................


look, i've just spent a really long time writing and rewriting what should be a pretty simple email to you--"i'm glad you're enjoying being back home and writing, don't lose any more weight, you've always been fucking sexy, yes i want to see you, blah, blah, blah" but i really want to get something off my chest first. please don't be shy or write me off as a drama queen, okay? it's important to me. that "talking to" you gave me was really instrumental in helping me after we stopped seeing eachother. i'm not a drunk, my life's in decent order, i love where i live, what i'm doing, all of it. i'm really happy. i'm embarrassed that we met when i was such a fucking train wreck, really embarrassed, but that's how it goes i guess. so, i wanted to thank you again. when i thanked you before i was ashamed of myself and was only just begining to realize that you could cut through all the bullshit and tell me to lose it without it meaning the end of our friendship. till august last year things were still hellish --all under my own instigation, of course!-- september was rough, but then i got to london and worked my ass off, spent a couple of months almost always alone, and then started to make some good friends. i'm sure without you seeing what an actual process this was, this might sound weird. but like i said, i really wanted to get it off my chest. i thought about you and what you said to me a lot, and it really helped. so once again thank you so much. (by the way, i'm aware that this could easily start sounding a little creepy if i keep adoring you like this. it's very tempting to start to talking about shrines and shit!!!) cheers . you're a doll.

so, now that you're eyes are exhausted i can repeat what i was saying about "glad this, glad that, sexy you, blah, blah, blah" i'd love to see you in new york. however i should let you know, unfortunately, that my money situation only allows me to get to manhatten and back, with 5 days there. i'm clueless as to the geography of new york, but is it too much to ask if you could come meet me there? or are you far away? let me know soon. i'll be in austin till aug 22. i'll try to give you call, if only to be disgusted by your thick accent. fuckin' yankies.

well, i guess that's only as much as i should write for now. i'm off to light a candle in your honor and chant a few (myname) mantras. (totally unfunny if i follow that with a phrase that assumes you have no sense of humour, like "you know i'm joking, right?" but you do, right?!)

great to hear from you,
liz xxx

Email 3: after we speak on phone when she called me:

" god, what a trip you are. i loved talking to you last night. you're a doll. i'm a tool. well, i just wanted to use the word tool...but you are a doll.
xxx"





This is also the second time in a week that a women has made a subtle request to be my muse...


So this liz might be coming up to NY towards the end of August and wants to get together with me.

Things might get complicated here soon. Complicated and painful.