Writing My Wrongs

I went to Louisville and had a relatively good time. Casual and relaxed.
He wanted me to go to a work function and I packed for it…but thought about it and was like…I don’t want to meet his friends or his family…coworkers included. I came to spend time with him, not everyone connected with him.
It was a lazy weekend. He took me out to the country, I mean the very middle of the country in Kentucky and 2 hours later, we are at the...


We took a tour and got to dip our own bottles in red wax. I thought it was cool even though the only time I drank Makers Mark was when I was out with my boss and I was trying to impress him when I ordered my drink neat. He was impressed and me…well my throat burned like I had poured acid down it and my stomach felt like hell in the pit of my belly.

I left that Monday and realized that this was probably going to be a return trip because I realize that I like country life. Or at least I think I do. I liked Charlotte or maybe I liked who was in Charlotte. I liked Charlotte…I think. I think I liked the thought of Charlotte. I like the thought of a country guy, a southern man.

I was back in NYC for 2 days before California came to New York. I wasn’t prepared. It was an ex that came for a “meeting” for his job. He was here Wednesday thru Monday. He stayed at my place 2 days and again…I wasn’t prepared. I don’t get how you love someone practically 20 years later. I don’t get it. I know he had grandiose visions of he and I getting back together. I’d heard him year after year telling me he still loved me…but I didn’t believe it. It’s exhausting trying to maintain a friendship with someone that wants to be your life-mate.

And finally…we come to Sexy Chocolate aka Just Chocolate.
I think I may be in some sort of infatuated state with him. I want him to want me the way I want him. Which is contradictory to the fact that I don’t think he is good for me.
But then…didn’t we all know I would say something like that.
Don’t we all know that I can’t equate myself with thinking I deserve some sort of wonderful instead of giving out my wonderfulness in bits and pieces to random ass.
Not really a question…no need to give your buck 76…lol

So tonight I had a date with someone that…might be ok to spend some time with. He is from Eygpt. His name is Mohamed, with Barack’s middle name. When I got into his car, he was playing Hall & Oats. I liked him for that. No rap, no smooth jazz, no crying R&B…

…I have some TMI info.
I don’t masturbate…nearly as much as I should.
Now, I do have “items” that encourage self pleasure…and let’s say I pulled one out this afternoon…
I turned down some quality poncha Friday night from the SOS…(I am somewhat holding out for Sexy Chocolate)…and I also had California in town…so why am I breaking out my “items” when I had the real life thing in my home? Well…
Right now I am just not in the mood for having a man inside of me. I haven’t had sex since…the last time I had sex.
So...I self pleasured today.
I had the strongest orgasm I have had in …ever…so intense…that is gave me a headache.
Now that is pitiful.
I am about to sex someone up soon…’cause masturbating to the point that it gives headaches is totally counter-productive.
The strain on my neck and head were so bad I was about to throw away my bullet. Almost. Not quite.

Bloomingdale’s has put up their Christmas windows. The tree at Rockefellar is up but not lit yet.

There are some things about myself that I love…and then there are some things that make me sort of wince. But I realize that…I am who I am. I could improve on those things that make me wince but then…those are the things that set me apart from others. And if I changed those things…then I’d be damn near perfect…and tell me truthfully, who the hell wants to be around someone that’s perfect?

That would leave others resenting me and sooner than later I’d drop off the invite list. I’d rather be imperfect…and be comforted by the fact that we are all imperfect instead of thinking about being that one muthaeffa that’s walking around all extra perfect and shit stuff. Being mediocre on a grand scale is nothing to turn your nose up at.
Reminds me of a conversation Zed and I had about being the middle of the middle. [Stratification, October 26th, 2006]

Lately, I find myself finding reasons to use words like lest and shall or unbeknownst and thou. I think it’s my unconscious way of preserving a romantic time of speaking. I also find myself using pet names that make no sense…and I use them at the end of every text I send…

I am headed to Louisville this weekend.
I think I am spending entirely too much time back in the DC area. Matter of fact, I have gone back and visited more since I moved back to NYC then I did in the months before I moved to MD.

I met a man. We've had some dates. I named him Sexy Chocolate. He’s 6’3, with a formidable hard sexy body…and he’s a pretty dark skinned hunk of lovin’. You know, chocolate is a natural aphrodisiac. And when I met him...all I wanted to do was roll around in his chocolateness...immerse myself in him. He was everything I liked and despite the fact that he was a gemini...I wanted him bad. No, bad!


Our first date I think I kept one of my body parts touching one of his body parts the majority of the evening.

Being with him made me want to see...well...I was ready to see if I was ready. Not like make a commitment or anything…but…just to see if I might be open to all that it might come with.
Budda, S.C. has convinced me that…
I am ready to have someone around but not necessarily for the commitment thing.
Then again, I am putting too much emphasis on “commitment”…I think that is always the part that scares me. Like…I’m really going to have to stay committed even if I don’t like you anymore?!?

The other night I made dinner. He came over after helping his sister move all day so he jumped in the shower. I closed the door to the hallway that leads to the bathroom and I sat in the livingroom and giggled at the fact that the man that I wanted in my home…was really here.
I felt like a schoolgirl…fiddlin’ with my hair and straightening my shirt and trying to find the most sexy, yet cute way to sit on the couch. Jumped from couch to loveseat to see which would be better. I settled on the couch and sat to one end to see if he’d sit by me or…sit somewhere closer to the other end.
He chose to practically sit on top of me with his damp body.
I wanted to ask him if he wanted me to rub baby oil on his smooth chocolate muscles back, but ended up just sitting there watching him while contracting my coochie muscles in anticipation of what I would one day feel when I decided that I wanted him between my legs. I didn't want to risk molesting him on my couch...in the livingroom...while in the middle of a World Series game...
But here he was...with nothing but a towel around his waist...and my actions were...stuttered. I froze up.

So, I just sat on my hands and we sat and watched the World Series…we talked about randomness, much of what I don’t remember because I swear I only heard what I wanted to hear and most of what I thought he said…was no where near what he said.
I heard, "I like you, I like you, I like you…aaaaa llloooootttt Bloopty!"
…and then around 2am he looks at me and I could see that things were about to go another direction and I wasn’t sure if all that I had anticipated, was really what I was ready for right at this moment.
You see, I wanted him sexually when I met him. Wanted to taste him and touch him and feel the weight of his body on me as he he slowly went in and...
...but now that that could very well happen this night...I was caught off guard. I didn't think it would happen this soon...I wasn't ready. Not mentally.
You see, it was much easier to just want him; crave him...without any real follow through.
I know...I've been told time and time again that I am a...contradiction.
The only time I've ever been this way was with the last Gemini I was with. The one who I wanted to marry, who wanted to marry me...the relationship I sabatoged apurpose. The one man that I'd probably get misty-eyed if I ever saw again.

I already knew but I asked anyway…”you aren’t going home, are you?” And he nodded his head no and told me he was tired from moving. I wanted him to stay. But, now that it was time for him to actually lay his head in my bed…I was scurred.
Silly I know, but…silly I am.
We moved into the bedroom and his big body took up my entire bed…but I climbed over that big ol' chocolate mountain and we went to sleep, with me half on him and him half smothering me with his big trunk of an arm. It felt good.
With that said. It also felt awkward and I woke up wishing he had driven the 2 hours back home the night before. At least he doesn't snore.
I am only 5’5…but when I sleep, I sleep all over my entire bed. Having someone in my bed just irritates me sometimes. In this single life, I haven't gotten used to waking up to someones face. I know I will one day but...
I can see at this point in my life that if I ever got married again, I am going to need to have a guest room because the first couple of years months…I am not going to like sleeping next to someone every night. I need my space.

Next day…
I got a phone call from someone even sweeter than Sexy Chocolate.
Hopefully I will be able to see the new sweetness when I get back in town.

Last night I had another strange dream…Sean Combs was in it…and he wanted me…bad. Heeheehee
Then there was this chick that I haven’t spoke to in about 4 years… And a dude I had about 3 dates with who this chick gave my blog addy to after I said something “not too nice” about him. I didn’t find that out until a year later but whatever at that point. Anyway…so in this dream…chick and dude were trying to do me dirty, so to speak. Spreading lies and sabotaging everything I was involved in. So, Diddy came over and he was all over me trying to be apart of my world…and I was like, all right then Sean. So, I made him take me to obscure spots and tried to hide him so that these two shady ass mutheffin scheisters didn’t sabotage my new love interest. The last I remember is that he bashed in the head of the chick and the dude just went away and forgot all about me. Sean and I ended up moving into my grandmothers old house and he quit the “business” and he grew old and puttered around, growing tomatoes in the backyard.

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I know I have been the slacker on not keeping up with this blog. Even when I do, it’s filled with random nothingness…and void of humor, interesting content and/or anything worthwhile…
…I just don’t have a desire to expose myself anymore… [that's not true]
…next month will be 6 months that I have lived back in NYC…and although it was the best thing for me to do at the time…a part of me wishes that I didn’t have to move. Kev and I were talking and I was mentioning to him that looking back over all the men that I had dated, or had a relationship with…I’ve never had any regrets. Well that holds true for all but one. I regret ever having met the person, from the beginning of the year, from the past year and a half. I don’t feel any anger or angst towards him…I just regret the time that could have been better spent doing something else…anything…even knitting or say…picking boogers.
Anything would have been better than wasting time with him. Nothing can be done about it now…

I am off to the Dugout, across from the Yankee stadium, to watch (what I know will be) the last game of the World Series. I am sure I will be tipsy before the game ever starts. I will need to pace myself…lol

Go Yankees!