manless dogless fireless

there are fires raging across this great state, and that is a true tragedy. on a smaller scale, it's a tragedy that i am "dating" five to six men, and i don't really want any of them. yes, all the free meals, free rides, free movies, and making out have led me to the conclusion that i am not smitten with any of these cats. tra-ge-dy. how is that possible? well, let me break it down. first, there's the oldest one, the one from my personal 80s movie. the one who would be in my best personal interest to like. we've only had two dates, the second being a hockey game, which was an excellent choice on his part. AND he bought me a present, two presents actually. he had two books sent to me on topics that showed he listens when i talk. how romantic. listening AND buying me something i would like for no reason. however, i still have no desire to kiss him again. on our last date, i got out of it because he recently got over a cold, so i used that as my excuse. i mean, it would be great to like him more. he's mature, stable, sweet, fun, lets me drive his car, which CLEARLY means he likes me, but i just don't feel it. still. and i'm sure i would know by now, right?

then there's the 31 year old, who i've been out on the most dates with. he's also very nice and sweet and smart, blah blah blah. HOWEVER, his conversational skills are still severely lacking. i am so tired of having to perform CPR on our fucking conversations and watching that shit flatline. it's so annoying! there are some people who are just not phone people, but who do quite well in person. he is neither a phone person or an in-person person. on top of that, the last time we made out, his hands we shaking as they were making their way up my shirt. i felt like some skanky 9th grade math teacher about to do the little virgin boy who sits in the back of her class. and i am certainly in no position to be the sexually experienced one in a relationship. although...maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea because a lot of guys out there think they know what they're doing, and they don't. just because they watched some porno and saw some dude slapping the shit out of some chick's clitoris, then they want to bring that shit into the bedroom, and that's not hot. that shit hurts! fyi. but i digress. so between the lack of conversation and the absence of desire to take my clothes off in front of him or have him take his off, i think that one is a no-go.

number 3. the 24 year old. the young, hot actor. well, that one...that one is certainly not going anywhere except the bedroom. yeah, yeah, i did it again. i said i wasn't going to sleep with him again, and i did. ah c'est la vie. it's only the second time i've gotten laid this year. i think it's okay. anyway, unlike the others, he's never bought me a meal, a movie, a soda. nothing. true, he's a struggling actor, but i'm not even sure he would if he wasn't struggling. of course, we are just "friends," so he's not really "supposed" to buy me anything, i guess. anyway, the sex was fine. he sweats a lot though. it was getting into my eyes, and they started to burn. then i think some dripped into my mouth. but aside from that, and the bruises on my ass, it was fine. but...i did...um...i was kinda thinking about my ex while we were doing it, which i think is a bad sign. it wasn't the whole time; it was more like a couple of quick fleeting thoughts, and then a quick smack of my ass would bring me back into the present. so what does that tell me? i'm not sure. i think maybe i should stop doing him if i'm going to be thinking about somebody else because that means i'm not that into him, i believe. and hell, he just gets to come over and have sex with me, and i don't even get a fucking jamba juice out of it? lame.

numbers 4 and 5 i will group together because they are friends/acquaintances of numbers 2 and 3, so i guess that kinda throws a wrench in things right from jump. furthermore, though i'm attracted to their personalities, i'm not attracted to their bodies (short and soft versus tall and soft), also a problem. oh and one is balding and one is a smoker, and those qualities will make me clamp on the chastity belt real quick. despite all these lil' hiccups, i did give them both a shot or two. but again, i'm just not feeling them.

then there's 6, the one i met on the street. he's really not even worth talking about, as his "family emergencies" have prevented us from having an official date. i mean, maybe your grandpa did get hit by a truck and maybe your mom did get her hair caught in an escalator. i don't really know, and i'm not one to second-guess anyone's reasons. shit does in fact happen. but it sounds a little suspect if you ask me.

so what's the point? i don't really like any of them, so i should get rid of them, right? or no? do i just enjoy their company and continue to go out and only tell them how i feel if and when it comes up? or do i tell them now and go back to my nights on the couch? i don't know. i don't know when or how to end things like this. and the worst part is that they're not bad people; they're great. they're gentlemen (for the most part), and i'm sure that some woman would be so happy with each of them. but it's not me. in fact, if they all disappeared, i wouldn't be at all devastated. so maybe this means it's time for me to get off the ride...
unbelieveable. out of 5 or 6 guys, not a one. not one gives me that feeling. that feeling that says, "screw everybody else. it's me and you." i have no desire to be the girlfriend of any of these men. and the one guy who i would like to be with is an emotionally unavailable gemini ex, who i think about when i'm messing around with someone else. twisted. i was hoping that one of these guys would rid me of all feelings for him, but that hasn't happened. so in an effort to purge myself of him completely, i told him i shouldn't hang out with him anymore. it didn't go over as well as i'd hoped. but it was necessary...i guess. i don't know. i don't know anything. this is all ridiculously un-simple.
i want to feel fire in L.A.

i'm so hot right now i'm scaring myself (halloween reference)

sheer boredom is forcing me to write this. it's become increasingly difficult to pretend to work. and i'm tired of writing "bored" over and over on this piece of paper. in french. if perhaps i didn't share an office with the bosslady, it might be a bit easier. but i can only stare at the same document for so long. pretend to read or write the same thing for only so many hours before things start to look fishy. i can only hope she mistakes this blog, which i ingeniously type in a blank email from my work account, for a lengthy analysis of fundraising efforts.
on with the show.

i've had a fistful of dates lately. which for me is like a monsoon. to follow up the two from the week before, i had three last weekend. Friday's date was like an homage to days of thunder or some other 80s movie that involved speeding down the road next to the beach, top down on the convertible, hair blowing to the tune of Prince. and then there was driving through the mountains at 80 mph and then there was dancing to prince and smooching standing on top of the mountain overlooking the city. so fabulously cliche it all was.
however, when we did kiss, i felt...i felt nothing. well, i felt, "wow. let's not do that again." tragic because he did everything else so well. opening doors, asking questions, making reservations, paying attention, showing initiative. then there's the guy from Saturday, who took me out for a delicious meal. but i felt like if i didn't ask him questions, that we would sit there in silence. i literally felt like i was carrying the conversation on my back, across the sahara, in the blazing sun. i guess he enjoyed himself though because he asked me out again for this weekend, right after we did that "oh, are you going to kiss me?" dance, which ended with his lips on my hairline. Sunday, it was the one who is too young and too cute and too unavailable. we just laid on the couch watching Hook, so i'm not sure that really counts as a "date." and also, we're just "friends." who had "sex." "once."

so here's how the week progressed. Monday, i met a guy on the street. let me rephrase that. i met a guy outside a cafe (much more sophisticated). actually he was outside the blockbuster next door to a cafe, but that's not important. we talked, but no information was exchanged. no sooner do i get back to work than my phone rings. it was him. yet again, another guy with some of that good ol' initiative tracked me down on the internet through my job's website. i'm not sure if we'll go out, that remains to be seen, but damn i love a man who will take matters into his own hands (even if it does involve the internet). then mid-week i had a "business" dinner, but i think the guy kinda liked me. my suspicion was furthered when he invited me to a halloween party. the same halloween party that another guy (the one who doesn't ask questions) invited me to. AWKWARD. i think that's going to be a no-go on both ends. man, this being wanted business is sort of stressful. i think my eczema is flaring up.

i'm not complaining. don't get me wrong. i plan to ride this boat 'til it don't float no mo. however, it just reemphasizes how rare chemistry is. that one little thing that can make everything else, good or bad, obsolete. i haven't found that yet in my fistful of dates...well, not really. but i'll keep enjoying the ride until it hits me.
i am wishin' for a happy halloween in L.A.

part II

how is it that one can go from no dates for muuuunths to three dates with three different gents on the same weekend? i don't know, but see that's what i'm saying, if that can happen then surely i can get paid to entertain people (see part I). so i'm sure that having someone's tongue in my mouth and having boys call me has indirectly made me more optimistic in terms of my career. let me knock on my faux wood desk right now before my social life goes right back down the crapper and takes my optimistic toe nail with it (again, see part I). i met one guy at a work thing a few weeks back. my co-worker got his number for me and told me that he's from georgia (the country near russia). he was quite cute and about 28, i guessed. well, turns out he is not 28, he's 24. and he's not from georgia the country, but georgia the state, and of course, he just broke up with his girlfriend and is not looking for anything serious (i swear i could find these suckers in a tornado with a blindfold on). at least he was upfront from day 1, which is appreciated. and he is quite an exceptional maker-outer and pretty damn cute, so what are you going to do? it's so unlike me to just get it on with someone like that, but hey f*ck it...and f*ck me, i guess.

then there's this guy who i met when i was out watching last week's presidential debate. we talked for quite a long time, and he hung out with me and the people i was with the entire evening, but when he left, we didn't exchange info, which i thought was odd, but whatever. well, little did i know that mr. smarty pants felt that he had acquired enough information to be able to find me, if he wanted to, which he did. equipped with only my common first name and place of employment, he found me and emailed me. he's very nice, and older. my guess is mid 30s. stable (at least it appears that way), with a good job (something to do with software) and no kids. just a strong chicago accent and an affinity for beer and whiskey. we were supposed to go out yesterday, but he got called into work, so he had to cancel. but as an older, mature gentleman should do, he 1) apologized, 2) gave a legitimate reason as to why we could not have dinner and 3) rescheduled during the same phone call with BONUS) a plan as to where we will go and a promise to 4) make it up to me. well done.

then there's my co-worker's friend, the one who i mentioned when i went to the cemetery to see Alien. well, he was also at the debate watch with me, my co-worker and her husband, and per my co-worker, she sensed that this he got a little jealous when this other chicago guy was being so attentive. keep in mind, he'd never asked me out or asked me for my number, so it was sort of surprising when he called me on saturday, and i ended up seeing him for dinner and following that up with a night out at a bar with excellent music with the young guy (see paragraph 1) for a mutual friend's birthday. between the saki and beer i had with dinner and the amaretto sours i had at the bar, i was feelin' alllright. and for a "non-drinker" such as myself, that alllrightness came on pretty quickly. and i was looking rather fly that night (as both of them pointed out), and other gentleman at the bar took notice, which i think prompted young guy to want to mark his "we're just friends" territory by touching, smacking, grinding my ass whenever possible. oh, what fun.

i have to actually do some work now in L.A.

part I

yawn. it's another Monday. at my job. i'm still here, slumbering through meetings and agendas, mindlessly taking rsvps and ordering table cloths. blah blah blah. this was all supposed to be over. i could have sworn by now that i was on my way out. see, i was finalist for the WB writing program, and i was pretty sure they would take me, and i was pretty sure i'd be on my way to bigger and better things in a matter of months. but life, with her ever-fickle, always unpredictable self would have no such thing. after having several weeks balancing the fine line between self-confidence and self-doubt, optimism and preparation for the worst and after having finally convinced myself that this is what i deserved, this respectable workshop was god's way of finally opening the door for me and having mercy on my soul, i got the call that it was not to be. they went with more experienced individuals, they said. and i cried. cried a little bit in front of this very computer at my desk, cried a whole lot more on my couch into a piece of chocolate cake (cheesecake factory's linda's fudge cake). i blubbered because i realized i'd been banking on this for quite a while, and suddenly it was gone and along with it, any immediate prospect of occupational bliss. i snotted at the thought of having to do this job for the foreseeable future without one ounce of hope. it was the promise of something better that had allowed me to endure, and that was gone. and so i was just left with the reality of what IS sans the shimmery life raft of what could be and should be.
but i didn't immediately plot my return to texas. nor did i decide that clearly, i'm on the wrong path. as much as it pained me to see that opportunity float away, somewhere, deep inside my right fourth toe's nail (or perhaps the left...i dunno), that little part of me knew that i would be okay. knew/knows. i don't know when, and i don't know how, but everything will be okay. and i can't believe i'm actually saying that, let alone believing it, considering things haven't ever looked this bleak. but '08 is all about change and new shit and realizing the impossible, is it not? in '08, experience is all relative and often times inconsequential. so i just need to wait for the right sucker to take a chance on me. i'm not asking to like lead the free world or anything, just let me write. that's all.
i am a changed woman. i am. although, my optimism could simply be resulting from the mere fact that i've been making out a lot and finally got laid (go 2008!). but that's part 2.
i believe nothing says "hope" like a lil' bump n grind in L.A.

overdue

this weekend, i went to the hollywood land cemetery to watch Alien. for those who don't know, hollywood cemetery is huge cemetery in LA where famous and regular folks are buried, and during the summer, they show movies there. outside. on a wall. it's like a drive-in with gravestones and no cars. i thought it'd be a little freaky, but in actuality i felt bad for the dead people (and their families). i mean, who wants 1000+ people picnicking, getting drunk and watching a movie at the cemetery where their aunt ethel is buried? and who comes up with such an idea? anyway, i'd always wanted to go. i'm glad i did, but it was much better in theory than in reality. i think i was uncomfortable because i was so cold and damp, and the couple in front of me kept fondling one another, so i had to keep moving to see around them.

before the movie, we all sat on blankets and chairs and ate. my co-worker's friend was there...this guy she has been trying to match me up with since February. the first time i saw him, i wasn't paying much attention because i thought his friend was cute. the second time, i thought "absolutely not." this time, i thought "maybe." what got me was the fact that he REMEMBERED shit that i'd said the last time we saw each other. like he actually was listening. when we were in line at the cemetery, he asked me how my fantasy football teams were doing, how my writing was going, who the cowboys were playing the next day. when we sat down, he even poured me a glass of wine because as he said, "i remember that you don't like beer." it was incredible. listening and retaining information is SUCH a turn on. i was so dumbstruck that i couldn't even think of smart things to ask back, or say for that matter. like when i said i was probably going to close my eyes during Alien because i thought it would be scary (it wasn't), and he said something like, "well that kinda defeats the purpose." and i said something like, "well, i'll just pretend i'm blind and experience the movie as a blind person would." omg. dumb! it felt dumb coming out. a train wreck of words. i can't believe i finished that sentence. he just nodded and smiled. he was such a....what's the word...jen-- gyn-- gentleman! that's it. he was such a gentleman. he gave me some of his cheese and bread and offered me some salami, which in my book, equates to "romance."

when the movie was over, he came over and asked, "how'd you like it?" his friend answered, so i assumed he was talking to him, but when i looked, he was staring at me, and again i found myself completely thrown. like, you just got up off your blanket and took three steps over here JUST to ask me what i thought about the movie? my response was, "i'm alive." what? of course, you're alive. as if the alien was going to jump out and eat you. dumb. then i managed to say something like "it wasn't that scary." to try to make my previous statement make sense. to top it off, when we were trying to figure out what to do next, he turned to me and said, "what are YOU up for?" me? are you talking to me?

clearly, my standards for simple men-women exchanges are below low. that's sad. anyway, he's in his early 30s (a good thing) and has a job and an education and all that, so he's a good guy. but i'm still not sure we would ever date.

anyway, i got home a little before 2 a.m. and proceeded to put on my pajamas and a pair of platform heels then clomped around on my hard wood floors. i decided that if i have to listen to my neighbor stomp her chunky feet around and be annoyed then i would do my part to annoy her at the most inopportune time. i'm not sure if it worked, but it made me feel good.

switching topics...let's say you're single and your friend or co-worker tells you about her boyfriend or the guy she's dating and how wonderful he is and how many trips they take and how much money and orgasms he gives her. now let's say at some point, you don't want to hear it. does that make you a bad friend? i'm inclined to say yes. now...don't get me wrong. i think that being subjected involuntarily to those tales is slightly cruel and unusual. it's like telling a carnivore whose jaw is wired shut how juicy your t-bone steak was or telling an amputee how great you think your legs are. yet in spite of the fact that it can be difficult...IS difficult at times, i still say it's rude to not want to listen. obviously, i'm speaking as the listener here, not the story teller. and it isn't always bad...in fact, sometimes, i want to know, as a someone who wants to share in her friend's clitoral and financial joy. sometimes i want to live vicariously. but there are times...many times...when stories involving love and multiple orgasms in a maserati are the last things i want to hear.

this leads me to my final (and totally unrelated) point of the day. today, my mom said to me for the millionth time, "that just means god has something better for you" in reference to something i didn't get. what prompted her to say that is irrelevant. i wasn't really all that burnt up about not getting it anyway, but that time-worn statement got me thinking. is that really true? does god always have something better for us? or is that simply something we tell ourselves to make ourselves feel better (those of us who have told ourselves that)? can you honestly say that every person who's had their heartbroken has ended up with someone better than the last person? has every person who's been fired ended up with a better job? it doesn't even have to be in the immediate future. but long term? i don't think that's the case. maybe it's the fault of that individual (i.e. if they'd stop falling for the same assholes or stop limiting their potential they WOULD get something better). then again...maybe not. i don't know. i'd like to believe it. i do...most of the time. however, one might consider rephrasing it to read, "god will eventually give you something better. maybe not this year or next. maybe not even for several years. but eventually, you'll get yours. if you don't go crazy first."

i am on some philosophical shit today in L.A.

rehab

i did my part to help end global warming this weekend and went absolutely nowhere. well, i didn't drive anywhere. saturday, i left my house when i ran down the sidewalk barefoot in my pajamas, chasing after the pizza man because i forgot to give him part of his tip, and i didn't want him to think i was a cheap-ass. sunday, i left my house between the cowboys and the colts games for some chin chin and pinkberry, but that was on foot, and all my items were to-go, so my human contact was limited. i'd had enough human contact on friday when, after i work, i met a friend at fatburger (delicious food, yet it always seems to have oddest, grimiest crowd), and then i spent the remainder of the night at the laundrymat. i planned, yes planned, to go on friday night because i thought no one else would be there. i was mistaken. it was like the breakfast club times 20 except without the rich girl or the jock, just all the other delinquents (don't think i'm excluding myself. afterall, i was there on friday night with them). i even saw a homeless man who appeared to casually "shop" through the clothes left in an unattended dryer. i also saw a baby roach. laudrymats gross me out. lord only knows who stuck their clothes in the washer/dryer before you. yeesh. a shirt of mine fell on the floor while i was transporting it from the washing machine to the dryer. i thought about throwing it away. i certainly couldn't put it in the dryer with the clean clothes. i still haven't decided what to do with it. right now it's lying on the back of a chair at my house, awaiting its sentence. i could keep it until i go back to that godforsaken place, but who knows when that will be. i was kinda over that shirt anyway...

while willingly confined to my house i read new moon, the second book in the twilight series. yes, i'm one of thooooose people. watched countless hours of football, the wire, cheaters...and whatever else wasn't going to end with someone caressing someone else's face.

saturday night, i got a text from someone talking shit about the cowboys. i didn't recognize the number, so my inner nancy drew kicked in. i dialed a fake number using the same area code of the text. ohio. deductive reasoning ensued. "the cowboys are playing the browns. who do i know that likes the browns?" i deduced that it had to be this guy who i hadn't talked to since...january maybe. we met at a lounge. went out once. he was a "texter," and one day, i blocked text messages on my phone, so that was the end of that. i figured he thought i just decided to ignore him since i don't think he knew about my texting situation, so i was surprised that he would contact me after all these months and pick up where we left off...talking shit. we sent a few messages back and forth, made a bet which he lost the next day, yadah yadah. amidst all of this, i start to think, "hmmm...maybe i could...he was funny and nice...why didn't i....oh, yeah..." funny, nice, motivated, yes. attractive he was not. not to me. not the second time i saw him. not from the front anyway. his profile was cool, but head on... i don't know. it's weird because at the lounge, he was cute from the front. but at the restaurant, not so much. and by the time we got back to his house, i was over it. claiming that i was freezing, i put my coat over my head and balled up on the couch like a rollie pollie in hopes that he would not try to put his lips on me. i was still pining over the old boy at that point too (home depot boy), so i'm sure that didn't help.

speaking of which...i sort of broke that promise about having nothing to do with him anymore. of course, i did. between wednesday and friday, we exchanged 20+ emails in a conversation which started by me asking if he thought we would ever date again (which was sparked by someone asking me). his response, in typical boy fashion, was "i can't answer that. i'm not clairvoyant. however if you're asking if i think we COULD ever date again, then yea. why not? why? what do you think?" i responded by saying, "i'm not clairvoyant, but yea. why not?" more emails followed (including him asking me what i REALLY thought) and at the end, i was more confused though he'd said nothing negative. so for real now. i'm gettin' clean. no more. i can't deal. i need simple, straightforward love and lust.
my name is manlessdogless, and i have been clean for three days now in L.A.

there are no words...

think about your most annoying co-worker. now imagine having sex with that person.

that's what i did last night in one of the many weird dreams i had. interestingly enough, my most annoying co-worker is a chick. not like a hot chick. but a frumpy, nose-blowing, only eats lentils and wheat germ type chick. a chick who laughs after everything she says even when it's not funny. "my computer's not working. ha ha ha." "hold the elevator! ha ha ha." a took her cousin to the prom chick. an every time she speaks i cringe chick.

not only was i having sex with her, but it was non-reciprocal sex. i was doing all the work! my face was fully in her stash (omg! i can't believe that a) this happened and b) i'm repeating it). it was a full on cunnilingus tutorial, and i was the expert.
i need a moment...
okay, so as i try to forget that i imagined what her hairless vag looks like, i wonder what the f made me even go there in the first place. you probably think that deep down, i want her, well let me just clear that up with a "hell no." obviously, the first order of business is to recall what i was thinking about when i feel asleep. i was lying on my couch, listening to alicia keys and, per yesterday's post, thinking "i'm through with men." now, i just meant through dealing with them and thinking about them not like switching teams. but perhaps my subconscious didn't know the difference. and in an effort to convince me that that was a bad idea, it concocted this dream as if to say "are you sure? you sure that's really what you want? you want to be through with men? oooookay, well this is what you're going to get." okay. okay! i'm sorry. sweet lord. i'm sorry. i apologize for accidentally telling my subconscious that i was about to pull a lohan. i'm sorry! now please erase these images from my mind. and if you'd REALLY like to convince me, you could send me a nice penis attached to a funny, monogamous, ambitious, childless, clean, intelligent male. thanks.
i am afraid to go to sleep tonight in L.A.