Hunting.

The trill of the hunt is what drives us. Right?

I mean, boys want girls that they can't have or doesn't want them right now... and well, we women love being the object of affection/attention.

But, I think it boils down more to what exactly we are hunting for. I mean clearly some are on a mission just for sex, a good time, a good night or a good partner.

To be honest (which is all I do here), I want to find all of that-- in one person. Which, I realize is a fucking stretch. But why?

Why is it so much to ask that someone be good (low end spectrum of tolerance) at sex, a good time, a good sleeping partner (actual sleeping) and a generally good person to be in a relationship with... I feel like I am reaching for the stars with that.

I think I have a certain amount of naivete on my side-- despite all the shit that I have been through relationship wise. I think that comes from good (subjective term) relationship models (everyone on my mother's side is married, together and seemingly happy), and an un-healthy diet of classic literature where everything is redeemable/fixable/un-regrettable and obstacle free.

But after everything I have been through in my relationships, I don't want to settle for a man (yes, MAN-- not a boy, not a dude). I mean, I've come close to settling. Trust me.

Due to the extreme amount of lying/fronting/faking (the faking on my part) I have actually become A LOT better at spotting them.

Now, here I could go through the various list of cads I have dated... and full on disclose their lying/fronting/faking deeds. But I wont.

In stead, I will say what I did.

I've:

- faked being cool with disinterest in me.

- faked being cool with driving half-way around the world multiple times for multiple dudes.

- fronted that the relationship wasn't a sham.

- fronted that things were ok when they were falling apart.

- fronted that no one else knew what was going one.

- fronted that I had no clue what was going on, when I had a clue, the truth and the proof.

See.. I can see that we are all guilty of it. Only... I didn't pretend to be someone I'm not, I didn't lie to cover up what I was doing.

And maybe I am trying clean the slate, a little, since I found a new guy that I am really into. And, I am not fronting with this guy. I am totally me. 100% me. even more so than with every other guy. I don't edit myself at all with him. I misspell things, say the wrong thing, and speak without thinking. And, he admits to liking me for it. Which I still find shocking, but exciting.

I mean he appreciates my thoughtful phrasings, gets my jokes and gets the stuff that I am into. Maybe he is too good to be true... Maybe it is all just a sham to get into my pants. But it is a sham I am buying into.

And there was some conversational overlap with MKSA.

Which. THAT is... an accident. I was talking to both of them. However, I was dating neither of them. And I know that seems a bit, shady. But MKSA ha his shot, 2. actually... And as much as I adore(d) him. He fronted this time around, and lost me. Do not front. It is not worth it.

And well, this new one (without a moniker still) is someone I have cultivated a friendship with. We are actual friends. Only recently, to me, has there been the development of something more. I am not sure how much more, but I am not ready to lose sleep over that yet. But I like the prospect of something actually new, something history-free and for someone to learn/get to know me for me (the version apparently no ex could with).

Now, I realize I am probably sounding bitter... And maybe I am, a little. But I am a grown woman how knows that happily ever after is a long sought after myth, so I take it with a grain of salt.

But all myths started with some basis of truth. Right?

It is inTENTS, really.

I've been busy.

I working really hard, then got on a plane to California (instead of to Boston).

And since i've been in California it has been a whirlwind of activity leading up to my birthday, the 13th.

And yesterday was full on Recovery Day, lots of eating, sleeping and some hair of the dog for good measure.

But don't think I have been neglecting my duties as a blogger and observational humorist. I have been keeping tabs on those things with my tiny notebook and thoughtful notes.

Run down of notes:

AIRPORT

I wrote this little piece about how nice it is to forced to separate yourself from your stuff and all connections to the world outside of the airport (Southwest does not offer wifi). But then I got distracted by DJ MarcRonsonWannabe (for all I know, it could have been him... but I doubt it was). BUT this guy DJ MRW, had case after case (3 actually) with him as carry-ons (how he got 3 and I only got my backpack is still a mystery. Anyways, he just makes himself at home... as we all did, there were only 65 or so people on the flight, so we ALL had a section of seats to ourselves. Which, I can now confirm is the best way to spend a flight, alone, not talking to anyone stretched out across 3 seats like a fucking princess.

But DJMRW keeps looking over at me the entire flight. Not in a checking me out or finding me odd and worth of such observation, but more just... keeping an eye on me.

Which, I found irritating. I was only sitting there, listening to my ipod, reading my fashion magazines. Not Earth shattering shit. In fact, quite normal, borderline shit.

So yeah, I was un-nerved by his "fascination" or irritation with my behavior.

But I let it go, I mean.... it's not like he was ACTUALLY Marc Ronson, right.

NIGHT ONE

The boys in the 'hood.

The neighborhood I am staying in is so lovely.

I mean the people, the food, everything. It is just perfect.

So I went out with my friend to a BBQ. The guys there, mostly in a band called the MO-AGS. Were exceptionally sweet, friendly and hospitable, until I was offered a jello shot that tasted like pure lighter fluid. But that is not their fault. It was the very loud girl who made said shots, it was her fault.

Sadly, I suffered from a case of too much too fast, the flight the drinking, the not eating... caught up with me and I was a bit of a mess.... not a vomming, stumbling mess but a tired, untalkitive freaking out mess.

NIGHT TWO

We headed over to La Poubelle.

This great cozy bar/restaurant.

We met up with a few of her friends for a pre-birthday celebration for me.

It was all fun and games and drinks, until a boy in the group crossed a line. He pulled a little Mean Girls move that landed him in Social Siberia with my friend. But seeing how she is of the forgiving kind... she didn't totally out him there.

She and I were heading back to her house after a serious bout of Martini-itus. Mine being of the Suped-up Cosmo variety and hers of Supa-dirty variety.

As we head back we invite the MGB (Mean Girls boy) back up.

Now before the porno music starts rolling in your head, it is not like that. I am not like that. She is not like that; WE are not like that.

However, we were all very very drunk.

MGB decided to sit a little close, to me. And got too snuggle-y, with me.

MGB got thrown out on his ass.

My friend and I hold no animosity toward one another. And we both have total respect for eachother and eachothers choice of boys.

That being said, MGB making such an error in judgment... well... got him kicked out.

And as he was being kicked out, the defensive innocence on his face (well practiced, possibly, he is an actor). As he repeatedly told my friend "Wait" "Listen" "But I love you" she repeatedly told him "Stop" "Shut up" "No" and "Just leave".

There is a chance this was all a huge drunken misunderstanding by all of us. But regardless... if you are hooking up with my BFFFE and then turn your attentions to me... expect to be thrown out. Seriously.

*note since then the issue has been cleared up

NIGHT THREE

We stayed in.

We watched a ton of TV and cooked and ate.

It was nice. I love playing catch up.

Plus, we needed the night off to prepare for my Birthday.

MY BIRTHDAY

We were up early (because we were not sleeping off some booze). We spent the day shopping and cruising Los Feliz (the Happy). I picked up some great jewelry, vintage tees, and books as a birthday present to myself. I got a GORGEOUS cake (white cake with lemon custard and raspberry filling). Had a champagne filled lunch. Came home. and Got ready to go out.

We landed ourselves at La Poubelle, with drinks flowing and friends showing up.

I met some people, though I can't really recall the names. I was on a lemon-drop high.

But the people I met... wow.

The ladies were lovely. The bartenders fantastic, plying me with lemon drops and chocolate cake shots.

The dudes... there was IINU (Interested IN u) the guy who kept asking me so many questions about myself, it felt like a Proust survey. I don't doubt he was interested. But there was such a level of intensity to his pressings that I found it... alarming in my drunken state. I hope I came across as polite. I know I gave him the address for this blog... I hope he enjoyed it.

There was AM (Actor Man) a guy who was pretty much in love with my friend. Which I adore watching. I love to watch them fawn all over her and then fall powerless to her feminine wiles. It is fascinating. I understand it though, the dark hair (long and healthy), great skin (olive complected and blemish free) and startling green eyes, it is a tough package to disagree with. Unless you are just not into attractive women. There was YM (yoga man), the friend to AM who was into me. YM was attractive, tall enough, tan enough... with the body of an yogi. However, him telling me how he lives in a tent, in topanga canyon... kinda put me off. Also a desire to live in a yurt. And how he just got back from a week long intensive yoga retreat in Joshua Tree was off putting as well.

*I never thought I would have to make living in an actual dwelling a requirement to date me... but yeah. I do now.

So now you're caught up.

Between the boys and the booze... and a total recovery day yesterday.....

And now today, with everything fun and new still waiting to happen.....

The Most Selfish Thing I've Ever Done

Well... Once again I have been neglectful.

Somehow, my life keeps getting in the way of my writing. I mean, I should be out living... or else I wont have anything to write about.

I had a melt down yesterday.
A total full on shit-losing affair about my trip.

I backed out.
I changed my trip... 2 days before hand.

I had been planning to MKSA. In Boston.
MKSA got himself into trouble... I won't detail it (it is none of your business) but suffice to say, homeboy is without a car and a place to live.
NOT COOL.
You cannot make such errors in judgment when you have someone coming halfway across the country to see your ass and see you for 10days. You. Just. Can't.
So. I thought I could be cool with it, be all hippie and bohemian about not having a place to stay at nailed down.
I couldn't.
I thought I could deal with the fact that he hadn't really talked to me for like 2 weeks (only once to say he was in trouble and another to say I should calm the fuck down).
NOPE.
All of this, plays into yesterdays meltdown.

It hit me yesterday that he hasn't grown up or changed (much).
I just... I couldn't deal.
I mean, I knew I had built him up in my mind. I knew I had built the trip up in my mind.
I was also pretty convinced nothing would live up to the image I had developed in my head.

So... I changed my flight today.
I am going elsewhere to see my BFFFE.

Maybe this makes me a bitch.
Maybe this is the most "selfish" thing I have ever done.
But you know what....
This is my time. My money. My vacation.
I want to be HAPPY. I want to spend it with people who I know LOVE me, regardless of anything. I want to have fun. I want to... I want it to be a vacation.
I work way too much and way too hard to be worried on my vacation about where I am staying.

I reserve the right to do what I want to do.
If you make stupid decisions, and expect to be rewarded with my presence... you are seriously delusional.
Plus, no "guest" wants to have to drop 600+ dollars on places to stay when that was not part of the plan... at all when the plan was made.

So, I got a new plan.
A better plan.
A GUARANTEED good time  :)

I realize the illusions of romance I had were.... just that. Illusions.
I wanted to see something in someone soooo bad.
I was in a lonely place, still wounded from a shitty breakup. I wanted something comfortable and familiar. I wanted something that couldn't hurt me.
It is really hard to hurt someone from 1000's of miles away.
I bought into it.
I turned a blind eye.
And I got disappointed.

Correction... I was almost disappointed.
I acted, and got the fuck out.

Drought

With Tax-Free weekend behind me, I am out of retail hell until November.

But between now and then I have a few work things to do (evaluations and homework for a company meeting/retreat) BUT more importantly I have a vacation that is happening in 16 days.

I am working really hard to NOT check out.

But... It might happen.

Last entry I covered my hilarious and irrational travel fears... well... now, there is has been an added one. Things have happened and I will have to get a hotel room for like 10 days. Which, is really, all well and good. I love hotels (when they don't suck or are dirty or they forget to change my sheets and give me towels).

However, booking one from a zillion miles away is proving both problematic and not budget friendly. I had budgeted for a FEW nights stay, not my entire stay.

AND seeing how it is my vacation I am thinking about winging it.

Yeah, winging it.

I normally plan an entire trip out. Down to the last details.

Well. Not this time.

Let's pretend I am not totally terrified of sharing my personal info over the webs.... And even if that is my reason for doing it... So be it.

I feel like I need that type of adventure again.

I need a little unpredictable.

Because, seriously, things are majorly predictable around here. Boringly predictable.

LAME.

So how does this tie back to relationships/help etc.

Well...

MKSA and I were pretty good about solving our problems together. So, I am sure we will be able to figure things out.

But more importantly, no one wants to be in a boring/predictable relationship.

I am not dismissing the benefits of stable, balanced and a certain amount of predictable that come with the life of a long term relationship. If every Thursday night is Chinese take out and movie night... then that's your thing.

I just need more variety than that. At least rotate the take out. I much prefer pizza to Chinese.

Same goes with in the bedroom.

You need A LITTLE spice in there.

I am not going to quantify what or how much spice is needed. But lights off, under the covers, missionary all the time wont cut it... FOR ANYONE.

I am not saying you need to go full on BDSM in there... so you know what I mean.

I've always seen boring and routine in relationships as fuel for the breakup fire.

I managed to keep my mouth shut about partners lack of prowess in the bedroom... to them. In the heat of many a fight I didn't throw out their literal "short-cummings." I kept it, knowing all the little white lies we girls tell in the dark of the boudoir were for his ego, and for my secret knowing for the lack of fireworks the next girl will see.

And again, I could blast a few of those non-dutiful dudes here.

But I wont.

I much more enjoy the squirming I know they are doing wondering "Is it me? Was it the guy before me? Couldn't be me..."

Boys forget we sometimes lie for sport.

Not HUGE lies (like a pregnancy scare-- that's just fucked up) but little ones... like about size, shape, ability and how you are the best we've ever had blah blah blah how much we enjoyed your foot fetish blah blah blah.

When really... we don't like it, you're not good at it and it creeps us out.

Let's Not... And Say We Did

I've been thinking about writing, only because the act of actually writing seems so.... difficult.

I can't make myself pick a topic and commit to writing about it.

Changing that now.

I will write about my looming (yeah) trip to see MKSA.

Suddenly, it has now dawned on me that my trip is in 21 days (holy crap) and I will flying across the country near the 10 year memorial (anniversary?) of NINE-ELEVEN (dundundun). Either I am a total genius (lighting never strikes the same place twice) or a total idiot (because, um, yeah... totally a national tragedy).

This is also bringing on a fresh bout of 'fear' of airport security.

I am convinced that I will strip-searched, in public... or worse, private. SO, you can bet your ass I am taking minimal stuff with you and it will be expertly packed to avoid this potential situation. Now, you are probably rolling your eyes and saying AE, you don't look like a terrorist. WELL, dear readers, YOU are right. I am not. But apparently 6 year-olds and grandmas do not pass the test, ergo, I assume that my tattoos and piercings SKYROCKET me to the top of the ol' watch list.

I am probably being a bit dramatic... A lot dramatic.

But moving on.

Aside from normal paranoia about missing connecting flights, delays, and lost baggage... I should be fine.

But wait....

THERE IS MORE (isn't there always?)

I am convinced (ok, not totally, but enough to be worried) that MKSA will see me again for the first time in years (since 2007ish) and instantly regret me showing up, baggage in hand (hopefully).

He assures me this wont happen... I remember that ANYTHING is possible, even if it is not that likely. This is also, at the same time calling into question my feelings about MKSA. Yeah... all those feelings once boxed up, and put away deep deep in my heart... now, much much much closer to the surface.

Now, maybe I am worrying for no reason (likely) but regardless... I can't stop my mind from going there. I am on an SSS (Self-imposed Single Sabbatical).

So... Here I am... Wondering if I made the best decision booking this trip all those months ago.

NOW... This is where I nay-say all the thoughts I've been having. Like, how regardless of how this trip goes, I am doing something I love (traveling) and going somewhere I have never been. I see this as an adventure (of sorts): like, if this turns out to be a disaster, I'm booking myself a luxe room and renting a car and I'm going to enjoy being alone. I'll take amazing pictures, eat great food, blow all my money.... OR if it goes great, and we fall back in love and want some kind of happily ever after (can't help being the sap romantic that I am deep down under all the cynicism), well, dammit, I will have my happy ending (hahaha).

So maybe I shouldn't get so worked up. I mean, I can clearly see the two obvious ways this could go... But here is the tricky bit... What about the ending that I actually want? What about what I would like to see happen....

Ohhh, yeah....

This is why I have developed such trepidation. Because I can start to identify what I would like to have happen. And oh, sure, I am sure MKSA could weigh in on this... BUT this is about me. At least the writing.

I probably should be having this as a conversation with either my girlfriends or MKSA. I should probaly voice these 'fears' and possibly let people talk me down from the proverbial ledge that I am so delicately perched. But keeping it inside, means it isn't real. It means it is just in my head, and the little said about it will keep it as good as it is (or isn't) in my head.

It is a problem I have always had.

I am so rarely in the moment.

Even in most pictures, there is a look on my face that say whatever I am feeling is forced.

It is because I have to break it down. I have to remind myself that whatever is happening is 'fun' not 'painfully awkward' and to remove that look from my face. OR I catch myself caught up in the irritants of the memory... like I don't remember the party, but I remember some bitch ruining my shoes or spilling my drink.... I don't remember the 'fun' I was supposed to be having.

This is probably the big fear.

I literally fear that I will be so in my head analyzing the trip, and analyzing what is going on with MKSA and I that I wont enjoy the damn trip, or our time together.

(that is really sad, I am pretty sure you are about to tell me to pull my head out of my ass, get my shit together and live my life, not analyze it).

This is my attempt to remedy that. Right here. Right now.

I, AE, vow to enjoy my g.d. vacation to the fullest. Come hell, high water, or terrorist attack. I will embrace the change, challenges, good and bad that come with this trip. I will also FORCE myself to BE IN THE MOMENT for the entirety of my trip (save for travel times-- plane, train, car only).

There you have it.

In print.

For all the world to see. My promise to myself to do this trip right (and justice).

Deep down, I clearly do not want this to be a "lets not and say we did" situation. AT ALL. I feel way to strongly going in... and definitely will on the way out.

How To "Get With" Me

I don't think it is fair to make guys figure me out... I mean seriously, we as girls expect boys (the same ones that threw dirt at us and pulled our hair) to figure us out. I think I'd have an easier time collecting Dodo feathers.

So here ya go boys (I know a few of you read this) a "road map" to me.

1. DO NOT ever (ever!) whistle at me in a bookstore. Do it once, it is a little flattering but weird. Twice is both creepy and irritating. And how you didn't see me flipping you the bird with my hand just above my ass (which is probably whistling in the first place) and decided to whistle a 3rd time... you are an idiot, and ergo, not my type.

2. DO spend time with me. It is not a joke when I say I am perfectly happy with a case of beer and the Sopranos. That sounds like a good night to me. Will it do every night? No. Will it do for most, yes!

3. DO feed me. I like to eat. I like food. This is not complicated. DO NOT however, force feed me things I do not like (i.e. tomatoes) but DO get me to try new food (i.e. Sushi, Indian).

4. DO NOT see other girls while seeing me, I do not like to share.... I assume you don't either. And if you do, you're not my type.

5. DO NOT buy me useless shit. Yes, bonus gifts are nice. Esp if it is because you are super sweet like that and feel like buying me things. I truly only expect a gift on my birthday, Valentine's Day and Christmas. Handmade gifts are best, food second and everything else third. Triple word score if you can make an entire meal (aps through dessert) for me as a gift.

6. I like my alone time, give it to me.

7. I like my quiet time, give it to me.

8. Enjoy crap movies with me.

9. Take in the occasional artistic endeavor with me. Join me on a photo trip, go with me to a museum, go with me to a weird art-house movie.

10. DO NOT be generic.

So maybe this isn't detailed. Maybe it comes across as demanding... which, it might be if you are not a creative, caring, interesting and into me.

Did you really think I would tell anyone how to "get with" me?? Is that what I do here?? NO.

Why did I even attempt this?

Because I found the list of things my Ex's have called me.

And the word DEMANDING was on there. I feel this is there the same reason all guy's Ex's generally fall into the "psycho-bitch" category (when it is entirely possible that person is not a psycho, yet possibly a bitch).

I sat back and I thought "Am I demanding?"

I generalized that I could be, at times, when I feel like my needs are not being met.

I am a "totally" demanding woman in a relationship.

I am sure my no cheating on me policy lands me in that demanding category too.

But most of this is a joke.

True, I have a few demands in a relationship... But nothing that NOT EVERY SINGLE GIRL EVER HASN'T WANTED.

Quality time. Respect. Honesty. Affection. Attention. Support. To name a few.

So, I have this to say. To the boys I've dated, you wont find another who was as laidback and as "ok" with your bad behavior as I was. Which, by now, I hope you know doesn't make it right. I like knowing that some day my name will flit across your radar when you are wondering why the hell your girlfriend/wife/partner is nagging you about something and you remember... "oh yeah, she didn't nag" and you'll remember all the names you called me in the heat of youthful dramatics that come with the territory. And you'll remember that's why I've denied your facebook requests since, ignored your emails, blocked your numbers, moved away, moved on and forgot all about you.

Arms

I haven't had a spare moment to write.

Seriously, between 60 hour weeks at work and a strong desire to sleep...

Regardless, just because I haven't been writing doesn't mean I haven't been observing (which I always do... I am only missing the tiny notebook to jot said observations down a la Jane Goodall).

Observations

* you can tell a lot about a guy from his arms

* you can tell a lot about a couple by what they do with their arms

Think about it... A guy with decently toned arms either a) works out (like a normal person) b) has a job that requires heavy lifting or c) jerks off waaaaay too much.

Option A means he is a total meat head... a potentially buff even sexy meathead. Option B is most desirable, he has a job. And Option C is well... TMI

So why do arms matter?

Maybe they don't, but they do to me. I find myself much more interested in a guys arms. Sure, there is something to be said about eyes (the windows to the soul or some shit), a slow smile and good hair. But really, arms and hands are my thing.

Part of it is because at the end of a hellish day, I want a strong pair to fall into. And all too often in my past, the arms I was falling into didn't catch me, or were too feeble to catch me.

Also, arms tell a story... one mapped out by veins, bruises, scars and (hopefully) tattoos.

Same goes for hands. They tell a story. And when a guys calluses come from playing guitar (or bass, or drums or the didgeridoo), it is not enough. And what girl wants feminine girly-man hands on her... no. Not this girl.

No I want strong arms and semi-rough hands. the kind that mirror hard work.

I spend all day dressing guys (helloooo retail). And occasionally I get the pleasure of feeling an arm or touching a hand (I have touched Justin Beiber's hand, twice.). And yeah... there are a few too many girly men out there.