Am I the only one that, while dating someone forgets how much they like being single? Well, until I am single and then I wish I was dating someone.
It depends on who I’m dating I guess. I really wish my brain was wired like some of my friends who are able to meet guys and sleep around and not feel like each date needs to be either the start of something permanant or nothing at all. I just don’t feel comfortable casually dating more than one guy at a time. After the first date, if things go well, I immediately feel like I’ve been taken off the market and guilt sets in if I so much as talk with someone else in the bars. I need to get over that.
The other thing that I’ve noticed is that I’ve been dating older and older guys lately. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always liked older guys.. but once they’re 12+ years my senior I start to think about the math… when I’m 50 he’ll be 66. uhg. Pushing it.
I think 10 years is my soft limit to date. What do you think?
I went to see Jeremy’s films tonight at One Eyed Jacks in the quarter. I thought both were pretty good. You could definately see that his editing has improved in the second one, Hexing a Hurricane… a documentary about Katrina and it’s effects on th city as a whole. It was sincere without pandering to the hysterical anti-FEMA crowd. (Of which, I am one.)
The first, Don’t Worry Honey, I Live Here: How Local’s Celebrate Mardi Gras is just that… a look at the other side of Mardi Gras… beyond the breasts and the drinking. Ok, maybe not beyond the drinking.
Again, I didn’t really get to talk to him or anything… he was constantly moving around from one person to another.. each one of my hellos were replied to with “Hi, I gotta go.” Oh well. Jeremy if you read this, I enjoyed them. If anyone is reading this… buy them.
Last night I was walking to the Pub after work to get a drink and I saw a bicycle laying on it’s side next to the bar. Now, being the bike nerd that I am I felt bad for the bike and walked over to stand it up. (I feel the need to do this… I know….) any way, once I got close I realise it hadn’t fallen and was just set on it’s side. The dirty looks given to me by the bum talking to the gutter punks 3 feet to my right were my tip-off. I look his way and give him the hands up “never mind” motion and walk in the bar. After I went in, I decided I wanted to go home instead so I walked out and stood next to my bike, preparing my pant leg for the ride home.
As I stand there, the bum owner of the bicycle on the ground walks over and picks his bike up and in a loud voice proclaims “I better pick up my bike before it’s stolen by some DIRTY FUCKING FAGGOT!”
I look at him and say “Excuse me?” and he answers “You heard me, faggot.” By this time I had mounted my bike and started to ride away, saying, equally as loud, “I was just gonna pick your bike up for you, you fucking prick.” and ride away….
Suddenly I could hear him get on his bike and start to follow me, (Oh shit, I know) so I stop and turn and look at him. (Remember dear reader, the last time I rushed on my bike I wound up in the emergency tent at the convention center.)
He says “come here asshole.”
I reach in my pocket, knowing I’ve been wanting to spray my mace in someone’s face since I got it the first weekend I moved back… but it wasn’t there.
Damnit. I forgot it at home.
So I got back on my bike and rode as fast as I could, hoping I wouldn’t run into a cab.. or the pavement… again.
I’m such a wuss.
Ya know.. I had a really good weekend. If it wasn’t for the cost of the alcohol consumed it could be a contender for a personal best weekend ever. Yeah, I drank a bit. A bit.