Posts Tagged ‘hook ups’

Somewhere God is Laughing

March 10, 2015

Or at least chuckling loudly.

Ever been in a room where you realize that you have, slept with two of the men in the same room, and oh, yes, so has someone else there, and you’ve made out with another, and oh, it gets better, you’ve asked two other men, in the same fucking room, out on dates.

All I needed was my ex boyfriend to walk in the door.

I knew.

I mean knew.

I was in some fit spiritual place when I laughed to myself.

I did not laugh out loud, but I smiled pretty hard.

It was funny.

It is funny.

Sometimes the world is a very small place.

Now, don’t get me confused with some sort of crazy woman, all these interactions happened at very different times and points of my life and sexual/relationship time line.

One of the guys I made out with?

It was five years ago and I’m friends with him and his wife, so like, no biggie.

The other guy, I, yes, hooked up with at Burning Man.

Come on.

It’s Burning Man.

One was a lover from before I went to Paris.

The other two were in more recent history, one guy I asked out about a year ago, and I have to say, he’s given me the best turn down I have ever gotten.

“I’m so flattered, thank you, but no.”

Quiet, sweet, firm.

We’re friends and run in the same circles.

And he’s got a girlfriend now.

The other guy, I asked out as one of the guys on my list of ten.

I was like.

REALLY?

This has never happened to me before and of in all places, the Inner Sunset?

Ha!

Then I got home and the guy who asked me out to a dessert date, even though I said I don’t eat sugar, happy to have tea with you, freaked out that I don’t eat sugar, and cancelled our date.

Whatever.

It’s all so laughable at this point.

Ah, dating.

And you know, its San Francisco, so yeah, of course there’s overlap, it’s a small world out there.

Also, I do have a community and fellowship that I prefer to date within.

They are the type of men I want to be in a relationship with, so it doesn’t strike me as so strange that a confluence of them were all in the same space.

I’m not sure what God is trying to tell me, but it’s fucking funny.

Even I can see that.

I don’t feel a bit weird about it, that’s the nice thing, I can take it all with a grain of salt and say to myself, “well, self, who’s next?”

I mean.

I’m not going to stop dating or trying to date.

Where’s the fun in that?

I believe that being light-hearted about it all is helpful, being silly can’t hurt either, not taking it so seriously, as I am wont to do with many things in my life, being easy and going with the flow and seeing what happens next.

It’s all a part of the story and the journey and life, dating, is messy.

Funny.

But messy.

I mean I don’t know a single woman or man who hasn’t had a number or horrific/silly/ghastly/laughable dates or moments in dating before finding the person they were supposed to be with.

Or not finding that person.

Or finding out that the best person to date is themselves.

“Take yourself out on a date,” I told her yesterday after we had done some reading and writing in the afternoon.

I gave her some examples of what I have done over the years.

Small things like: lighting candles when I am having dinner, buying myself flowers, drinking my water, sparkling preferably, out of a glass instead of straight from the bottle, sitting outside on the patio when the weather is nice, listening to jazz music, walking on the beach, getting a fancy coffee at a cafe.

To slightly bigger things: riding the F-Market train from the beginning of the line in the Castro to the end of the line in Fisherman’s Wharf, going to the Farmer’s Market on a Saturday at the Ferry Building and eating lunch on a bench overlooking the Bay Bridge, taking the ferry to Sausalito, spa days at Kabuki Springs, going to a matinée, walking through the rain, trips to the MOMA or the Legion of Honor, going to House of Air and trampolining, walking through the butterfly exhibit at the Conservatory of Flowers, walking through China Town with my camera, or playing pinball at Free Gold Watch.

I’ve even taken myself on some pretty fancy pants dates: one year I had a three course pre-fix menu dinner on Valentines Day at Le Zinc a French Bistro in Noe Valley, or going to Paris.

Yes, I do count that as a pretty big date, not when I moved to Paris, but when I went there in 2007 by myself for 10 days.

That was as stupendous date.

I even got lucky with a French man in the Pere Lachaise cemetery.

Well, we made out, and had I let him we would have gone further, but too many tourists around.

It was something else to have a wild-eyed dark-haired Frenchman named Philip lean me up against a 200-year-old mausoleum and kiss me silly.

So.

I know how to date.

I do.

And I make a good date.

The world is not as big as I make it out to be and so to be in a room where I had kissed three of the men, slept with two of the men, and asked out two others, isn’t such a huge deal.

A goofy deal.

A silly deal.

A nothing to take seriously deal.

Something to write about on a foggy night while I wait to see what happens next and who I will go out with this weekend.

So far.

No takers.

But you know.

The week is young.

And already weird.

I can’t wait to see what happens tomorrow.

 

Boogie Nights

November 11, 2014

Some of the ladies have been reaching out to me about dancing.

Ladies.

I am down.

Downtown down.

Let’s do it down.

Let’s get down.

At the moment the two options on the table are the Opulent Temple benefit at the Armory on Saturday the 22nd of this month.  The other is the BRAF (Black Rock Arts Foundation) Artumnal.

Burning Man people

Actually Opulent Temple would be a lot of Burning Man folks too.

The BRAF part is expensive though, $60.

The Opulent Temple $20.

Either way, I am going out dancing.

I am ready to do it.

Get out and shake some tail feathers.

I mean, yes, I did go out dancing on Halloween, but it was an amateur dj, I mean, I love that the venue was of service, but it wasn’t the quality or caliber of music I like to get down to.

It would be divine to have some grooving on the dance floor.

And maybe ask someone on a date.

I need to get myself back in the mix.

I don’t know what next, but yes, that thing when you ask someone out.

I just haven’t anyone on my radar at the moment.

Suggestions?

OkCupid is just not panning out, I mean, I have had a profile on this site for years, I think I may have had a date or two that went well, but for the most part, really not good fishing.

Time to move to another pond.

I know all the kids are doing Tinder and I have waffled on whether or not to try it.

I get the distinct impression it’s really about hooking up with someone, not dating so much, but casual sex partners.

Nothing wrong with that, but I’m not sure I’m ready to peddle myself out like that.

There was little opportunity for me this weekend.

Well.

That’s not entirely true.

My friend who helped me with the scooter is someone I have on again off again considered, but he’s such a heavy smoker, I just can’t take it.

Anytime I think I might want to kiss him, there’s a smoke in his mouth and riding in his vehicle is like being in a giant rolling ashtray.

He doesn’t give a shit and figured he’d be dead by thirty, so smoke ’em if you got ’em Johnny, but I’ll pass on asking you out on a date just because of that.

I did talk to a guy Saturday about going out, but we got our wires crossed and didn’t end up exchanging numbers.

It felt good, though, to ask, to not be hung up on the last dating experience I had, and move on.

I’m not going to be sad Sally sitting by the phone.

Nope.

I got things to do, places to be, boys, er men, to kiss.

As a friend recently pointed out he was a little concerned that the only guys I was seeing were 2 and 4.

Those would be the monkeys I nanny for.

And wow.

They were a handful today–first day back, Monday, longest day for me on the job, swimming lessons, up and down routine, and a grand temper tantrum from the oldest boy.

Which happens, but they can be exhausting.

Temper tantrums usually stem from an inability to express or communicate what is needed, and often times are exacerbated because the child wants something and knows how to get it be throwing a tantrum.

I’ve seen a few in my time.

I just patiently wait them out and go about doing my thing, but it’s hard, and it can get exhausting and I was looped by the end of the day.

Not tired enough to not cast an eye about my environs this evening for a possible dating candidate, but no one stirred my interest.

I thought about one guy, and then thought, nope, he’s sweet, I know him through friends, but there’s nothing there, just friendship.

I have another guy who always tries to engage with me, we went on a date a few months before I moved to Paris, he was unaware I was moving he told me at the date, and was only interested in pursuing something that would have longevity.

Which was fine with me, it was the easier softer way to let him down, he excused himself from the pool before I could turn him down.

But I see him on the occasion and he’s definitely interested and I am definitely not.

He has not asked and I won’t even give him an opening, and I know better than to suggest we go out just to fulfill my goal of a date a week.

That would be a shoddy thing to do to someone.

I’ve got to be principled about this the best way I can and show up as my best self.

My passionate self, mind you, I still want that, the singing in the blood, the pull of the moon on my heart, the flutter in the stomach, the shyness, then the boldness, the touch of electricity that zips and zings along my nerve endings, I got to have that.

So dancing it seems like a good place to start.

I get to be myself, I love to dance.

I get to dress up.

I get to be sexy.

I get to flirt.

And hopefully I will get an interested party.

I don’t doubt something will come of it.

And in between, I keep focusing on today, and showing up, and doing the next actions in front of me for graduate school.

For instance–I received an e-mail back from the admissions department and the program that I want to apply to, I do NOT have to write the 8-10 page academic paper with sources.

Yes!

I still have a letter of intent, a CV to formulate, and an autobiographical statement to write, but really, I do that almost every day.

The letter of intent is one page, the CV will be one page, the autobiographical statement is 6-8 pages.

I got that down.

I have one more letter of recommendation to secure from a second source, and to order my transcripts on-line this week.

Plenty to keep me occupied.

And then.

The dancing.

Oh yes.

 


%d bloggers like this: