The most epic week in history.

Firstly, I apologize for the lack of posts the last week. I really am very sorry (and appreciate the concern and emails); I am in fact ok, and I have just been up to my neck in sexy boys... that's all. :)

And secondly, if you had any idea what has been going on, you would understand my need to gather my thoughts before I write about it.

So. Let's do this day by day.


Last Friday
My potential hat trick, which ended up being one date with an excrutiatingly attractive, yet very odd little guy for lunch, being stood up at Starbucks (but scoping out a few major hotties that work there) and then meeting a few duds at the bar with my roommates. Plus a substantial amount of turning down the weird OKC hottie (Kelly) from lunch, who despite having said he was going to be too busy to hang out 'til the coming Thursday, kept asking if I would meet up with him again. I said no, and we made plans to hang out Thursday. I asked if he was a "smitten kitten." He wrote back, "meow!" Classic.


Saturday
After working all day, I rushed home to change, extravagate (v: to make extravagant) my makeup, and throw some overnight shit in a bag, and headed off to West Hollywood to hang with my super sexy gay friends. It was absolutely pouring rain so the drive took a bit longer than expected. While I was driving I got a phone call from Ken, a plastic surgeon in LA that found me on OKCupid, and we chatted for a bit and made plans to have afternoon mojitos for Sunday Funday the next day. I finally arrived at my friends' apartment where we had shots out of beakers and cabbed it down to Fiesta Cantina (quickly becoming my very favorite place) where we partied all night with some of the hottest guys I've ever seen in person (admittedly pretty torturous... but great eye candy nonetheless). I made a new BFF, Peter, a really sexy tall brunette who I hung out with all night, hand in hand, and he got me sufficiently drunk by buying me two drinks at a time. I intoxicatedly set him up for a threesome with two other sexy guys. Ha! Such is life. I've heard I'm a great matchmaker... guess it follows in the gay world too. Eventually my friends and I made it back to their apartment where I was so drunk I couldn't lay down without spinning, and was basically just a walking disaster.
We woke up the next day around 10 (thank the holy heavens I didn't have to work), though I stayed in bed 'til 1, unable to move without wanting to die instead. I texted Ken to tell him there was no way I could touch a mojito, and he agreed and suggested food instead. He called me soon after to cancel because he had to go calm down a patient in a panic, thinking his stitches were coming apart. Ew!
When I got back in the evening I freshened up and headed over to my new favorite Starbucks for my signature drink of choice and a little flirting with the boys behind the counter. I've decided to become a regular. Unfortunately, Hottie McFirecrotch wasn't working.... but one of the other hotties was.
After getting home, I spend a long while online chatting with a few different people; namely the Ex, who I've done quite a bit of texting/iming/chatting with on the phone as of late. Upon telling him about his long-lost redhead twin, he tells me he's probably evil and I should stay as far away from him as I can. And admits to maybe being a little jealous. Interesting..


Sunday
I worked all day as usual, somehow still a bit hungover. You know you've had a great time when you're hungover for two days, I always say. And it really doesn't happen often. Texted briefly with Ken about hanging out with him sometime this week... I can't say he's exceptionally attractive, but he's nice looking, passionate about what he does, ambitious, smart, and seems like a very nice guy. When I got home, one of my best friends imed me about a reggae concert on February 8th, which seemed random, considering I'm not really a huge fan of reggae or anything... I mean its ok, but I don't go out of my way to see it live. Anyway, she explained that she and this guy she's been dating for a few months were going, but that her guy was bringing one of his best friends (again, named Peter.... guess its a good name for sexy boys), who she described as REALLY REALLY HOT, and that I just had to meet him.
Ok, I'll take the bait.
So she sent me his myspace profile, and she wasn't lying. Not only does he have classically sexy, masculine good looks (strong jaw line, nice body, green eyes, tan skin, sexy smile, etc... think a young Val Kilmer) but he's really into kite surfing, he's an engineer (smart is oh-so-sexy), and is Czech.... and has a slight accent. So I start drooling on my keyboard and enthusiastically agree to go.
Ended the night as I have been for the past few weeks, texting flirty messages back and forth with the Ex. Hard to turn that back burner off, as it turns out.


Monday
After working all day, me and my friend C from work met up at my new fave Starbucks for some coffee and oogling... though yet again, my sexy redhead was nowhere to be found. The other hottie, the tall blue-eyed boy with shaggy brown hair and a disarming smile, was though, and I wasn't complaining. He made my drink and winked at me when I picked it up. C and I sat and talked awhile, and ended up going to Maki Monday since we were both starving. I managed to down a beer (after having professed that I was "never drinking again" the day before) and a few rolls. After telling her all about my most recent trip to Weho, we made plans to go next time our schedules both allow it.

Tuesday
Worked all day again (I basically live there), and found out I finally got some time off to see my family up north; coincidentally where the Ex lives as well. He seemed excited about the news and we made enthusiastic plans to spend my first day together. At lunch I texted with Weird OKC Hottie (Kelly), who insisted that we have dinner, despite having been "booked" last time he checked. I gave in and told him I hate making decisions, so he picked a Japanese place by his house, and I headed over there after work.
It was the type of place where you order a bunch of little plates of stuff, which is really awesome except when you are, again, someone who hates making decisions. I told him just to order since he knows what I like, and he did, gladly. And for whatever reason that was a huge turn on. He wrote up a list of a ton of stuff on the back of the sushi sheet and handed it to our waitress. We had an alright conversation, a little strained, but the 4 glasses of plum wine helped a lot. By the end we were flirty, we walked out holding hands, and he kissed me. We ended up back at his apartment down the street (VERY clean... almost creepy clean) and watched Planet Terror (turns out Zombies oozing pus out of large facial boils is not the most romantic thing ever, but oh well) and cuddled, and made out a lot... which was good except for once every few minutes he'd shove his tongue down my throat out of the blue and I kept saying, "dude, chill out." But it didn't work. We laid there talking for awhile (and to be perfectly honest with you, a few of his comments and big sudden changes in mood were causing my crazy radar to go off, but.... eh), and it somehow came up that he has a "type," which has turned out to be, in blunt terms, fat chicks.
He told me that, in all honesty, I was just not his type physically because I'm too skinny (his word, not mine), but he just thinks that I'm so gosh darn beautiful that it doesn't bother him. Now, in my right mind, that would be an amazing thing to hear (what girl doesn't want to be told she's almost too skinny?) but, what? You're into fat chicks? What? He told me his ideal range is 160-250. Instantly this is a huge turn off (also, keep in mind that he's about 5'6", 145 lbs), but I'm kinda buzzed still and change the subject back to making out. Eventually he walks me out and insists that he sees me again; I agree to it for whatever reason.


Wednesday
Another long, tediously slow day at work, filled with gossiping about boys and eyeing the hotties I work with (one nice perk of my job) that I have crushes on... a girl can never have too many, if you ask me. Spend an hour on the phone with the Ex after work; I still get butterflies when I see him name on the caller id. Sue me. We hung up when he got a call on the other line, and I never heard from him again.


Thursday
Finally a day off for yours truly, thank GOD. Needless to say, I did hardly anything with it, as usual (other than the same boring errands as every other day off, and a trip, of course, to my fave Starbucks for a little sight-seeing.... Firecrotch STILL not there, what the heck??), until the late afternoon when I drove a friend to the airport. I'd texted Ken (the plastic surgeon) earlier in the day to ask what his plans are, and he said we should get dinner in the Marina. After I left the airport I was on my way up to LA, but made him promise we could go somewhere super casual, as I was in a pony tail and converse (which I can assure you with the utmost honesty is not how I would EVER consider presenting myself for a first date... But I didn't have time to go all the way back to my house and change, and just thought what the hell). I got there 90 minutes later (forgot about rush hour) and met up with him at the El Torito on the water.
Having thought he was a super sweet guy, I was unpleasantly surprised that he remained on his cell phone for the first 10 minutes of the date, yelling into the phone at his assistant about why he needs the window seat in the emergency exit aisle of the plane, or he's not flying. Hot. A totally self-obsessed, mannerless control freak? Sounds good to me! When he finally hung up we started talking, only to find that he was about 1,000% more egotistical and obnoxious than I had gathered on the phone. Eventually the conversation turned to a question I'm sure anyone would naturally have on their mind: "When you meet people, are you thinking about what you could do to them to make them look better?" He answered, "only on dates," which I laughed at, assuming he was being sarcastic.
What followed was a 5 minute, hands-on examination of my forehead in El Torito (him leaning completely over the table, pulling hard at my skin and angling my head in different ways); the result of which was a suggestion for a mere 40 ccs (or oz or grams or pounds or however you measure it) of botox every five months. He attempted to lift my chin off the table (which of course had fallen open in utter shock and horror) by telling me, "don't worry! No biggie! I'll do it at cost since I know you." Well, this was off to a beautiful start.
Eventually after he realized that was maybe not the perfect first date conversation, he went on to tell me why, other than a few "minor wrinkles" forming on my head, I have the ideal face, and described in detail how each of my features are ideal (other than the disaster that's going on above my eyes, apparently): How my nose is the perfect angle and size, my eyes are the ideal distance apart and a perfect shape, etc. I told him he was full of shit and he told me he majored in Classical Art before med school, and does medical illustration on the side. Fair enough.
Somehow, after picking at my salmon fajitas, he convinced me to go to this local hot spot in Venice, called The Brig (which is pronounced with a hard G, though it looks surprisingly like my nickname) and meet up with friend he went to med school with. This was all starting to sound like some gangrape set-up, so I insisted on taking my own car. I followed him (in his obnoxious black Corvette convertible... of course) and found that the place has a huge mural on the outside of a Cougar with a painful-looking cameltoe and a much older sugardaddy. And then my name painted in huge letters above it. I SO regret not taking a picture with my camera phone (sorry, this is the best I could find). I hope this is not a glimpse into my future.
We went in and got drinks, which he said he would pay for (duh) but that I should know right now that he's not the kind of guy who is going to "take care" of anyone, and that I shouldn't expect him to pay my rent. Are you serious? We got a table and by this point he was hardly speaking (other than him telling me about growing up in Canada.... what is it with me and Canadians lately??), but was pretty much just staring at me wistfully, and for whatever reason seemed to be getting increasingly nervous. I finally asked what was up. "Honestly... the more time I spend with you, the more I realize you're really fucking cool and the more I'm worrying about impressing you." Blah blah... told me he was totally smitten, etc. I'm not sure what it is I'm doing to guys this week, but I'm casting some sort of weird spell.
So his friend arrives, and is the complete opposite of Ken; he's a total hippie pot doctor with longish hair and a very calming demeanor. I spend most of the night talking to him because he's A. really cool B. married and totally not a skeeze and C. is clearly aware that his friend Ken is a total tool shed (ie apologizing for his forehead exam, etc). After a little while he disappears to play pool and somehow Ken ends up grabbing me and kissing me. Have you ever had someone kiss you, that you were totally not into kissing, so you forget to close your eyes, and here you are, looking right at this very unsexy person trying to make out with you with their eyes closed? It's not a pretty sight. I think I kissed back for a second but he has a goatee and I got grossed out by the whole situation and told him I had to go home (to which he kept replying, "just call in sick! I'll give you a doctor's note!"). He made me promise he could see me again. (Barf.) Texted with the Ex on the drive home, and told him all about the awful date of the evening and did some flirting as per the usual, though he seemed very distracted.


Friday
Back to the ol' grindstone for me. After I got off work I was just so freaking tired I couldn't even think about anything but putting on yoga pants and writing this. Sitting on my laptop around 9:45pm, I get an IM from the friend who invited me to the reggae concert for this coming Friday. She asks what I'm doing. I say nothing. She tells me she's sitting outside the random bar down the street, about to meet up with her boy and The Sexy Czechy and that she refuses to go inside until I get there. So I'm running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, trying to throw on something cute and put back on the makeup I'd rubbed off and make myself presentable enough to meet a MAJOR hottie.
I rush over and we meet up, I introduce myself, and spend the remainder of the night doing one of the following things: A. briefly flirting with him B. forgetting about/ignoring him (extremely effective when attempting to smittify [v: to woo someone into smitten-ness] those who are exceptionally attractive; it catches them off guard) C. making fun of all the ridiculous dancers at this really strange, trashy club in the middle of suburbanville, or D. drinking. By the end of the night, The Sexy Czechy was pretty much following me around like a puppy and his body language was a big "I have a big crush on you" billboard. After he bought me another drink I told him we had to go, and as the four of us departed, he grabbed my hand and held it all the way out to the car, where he insisted I give him my number (though I very coolly suggested he get my "contact info" from his friend when he said he had to see me again) hugged me for an extra long time, and then kissed me. And then again as I was getting in the car. Mission accomplished.
Texted with the Ex when I got home; didn't mention tonight's new boy. Got online and found this guy (we'll call him Fick) that found me on OKCupid (we've been iming/texting/talking on the phone, you know the drill) was online. He imed me and invites me to Taco Tuesday this week at his usual place, where I have never been, and tells me he's burning me a mixtape. Hot!


Saturday (yesterday)
The last day of our fiscal year at work, and completely out of control, but very financially successful. C and I met up afterwards at le Starbucks for some hottie-watching... yet again, the redhead wasn't there! What the f-! But as always, the cute shaggy-haired guy was working. As he was making my drink, he started making some awkward conversation with me.

"How's your night going?"
"...eh...Good.... how's yours?"
"Good now, I'm about to get off."
"Cool.... how long have you worked here?"
"Since July. Where do you work?" I told him, he asked me which location, I told him, he asked me what part. Hmm.
He finished making my drink and went to hand it to me, but took it back and looked at my name on the side, "B*******, huh?"
"Yep."
"Well mine's Randall. It's nice to finally meet you," ....uh.... "You were in here the other day right? You were sitting over in that corner for awhile, on your phone?"
".... yeah."
"Cool... (about 10 seconds of really intense eye contact) Well it was nice to meet you, B*******." And winked.

So I go sit with C, and after a few minutes he comes over with a tray of samples, which he offers to me, using my name. Oh jeez.
My roommate calls me and talks me into going with her to a party that's being thrown by a guy she was friends with in college, but hasn't talked to in over a year, and won't know anyone. Me and C rush back to my house, throw on heels and more appropriate party attire (uggs and a polo just weren't gonna do it for me) and head over to a house party that turns out to be straight out of a movie. They have a huge, very nice house in the pocket of a culdesac, that is the quintessential bachelor pad: four 25 year old guys living in a house complete with a pool table, a "love den" (seriously... a sunken room with shag carpets bean bag chairs and a fireplace), two gigantic tvs, Wii, a full built-in bar, a beer pong room, and (cherry on the sundae) a stripper pole. Needless to say, all of those elements were utilized by all three of us at some point during the night, though not necessarily in that order.
As it turns out, her friend from college throwing the party is VERY cute, VERY funny, VERY nice, and VERY flirty. Throughout the night we hung out and flirted and took shots and such every once in awhile, and I was crushing on him in a big way (though I think he's just a flirty guy). At some point I start telling him and his roommates about this guy I went out with the other day that likes fat chicks (Kelly, the weird OKC hottie), and since there were a few at the party, we decide its a good idea to call him and tell him to come over and meet them, which I do. In my drunken state this seemed like a fabulous plan, but as it turned out, he was incredibly clingy to start off with (for example, kept KISSING me in front of the guy throwing the party, and all the other cute guys I'd been flirting with all night.... what a cockblock) and then hurt that I was "trying to pawn him off," and then was totally dramatic when I was trying to explain that him liking fat chicks is just kind of a huge turn off and it was just not going to work out between us, even though I am painfully attracted to him and he really hasn't done anything wrong.... literally to a point where my friends had to come over and talk him out of bursting into tears. He finally says he has to go, and wouldn't even hug me goodbye. It was horrendous, and in hindsight I realize I was probably being a very awful (and drunk) person but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing. Eh.
My friends and I leave around 3:30am because 2/3 of us had to work today (me and C unfortunately) though the party was still definitely going strong. Her sexy friend walks out with us, with his arm around my waist and asks if he'll see me again, I tell him to call me (and then recall the drunken note I scribbled on the back of a receipt I found on his desk that says "Dear J***, you're cute, I wanted you to know I think so, call me love, B*******" except with no phone number, that I left on his laptop)
Finally, around 4 in the morning I crawl into my bed, drunk as a skunk and dreading work today.


Today
Got ready for work slowly and carefully, as to not wake the hangover monster lurking inside of me. Turns out only C and I were working, so it turned out to be a pretty fun day.
Headed over to le Starbucks after work to grab a coffee, but neither hottie was there. Came home and started this entry (literally HOURS ago), and got an im from the Ex, saying that he doesn't know why he "always lies" to me. GREAT. He fills me in on everything he's really been doing this week, though he's been telling me completely other things all along: meeting some girl visiting from Kentucky, spending almost every night with her at his friend's house, hooking up with her, taking her to the airport, and now missing her and talking to her all the time. Once again, the Ex has the uncanny ability to make me go from happy-go-lucky to sick-to-my-stomach anxious in less than 10 seconds. Eventually I told him I couldn't talk about it anymore, and after apologizing to me extensively, he was off to bed with the resolution to be a better person to me from now on.
I'll believe it when I see it.

Other than that crap, which I'm really over (though I've been saying that for three years and my feelings still haven't changed, which I wish I could explain), there are a lot of promising things happening this week; mainly Taco Tuesday with Fick, and the reggae concert on Friday. I haven't heard from Czech Peter since we met on Friday, but I figure maybe he's following the three-day rule.

Should be another good week. I'll try to fill you in on a more consistent basis, if schedule allows. :)


(P.S. Talk about recovering from a dry spell!)