THIS HEART, IT FRACTURES

We interrupt this blog to bring you a non-humorous emotion update:

So Ninja and I have been chit chatting for a few weeks now. Well... for quite some time. But he's married and I respect that so I've been keeping it strictly friendly. Every single time I feel that it's getting too far or crossing a line I pull back. I have done nothing wrong. 

But now that it's only a few days until I'm home for the weekend and it's Tori's birthday he's being horrible to me. And not like... aggressively mean but like... not talking to me, making me feel guilty or bothersome for trying to have a conversation with him. 

And I'm over it. 

Because I could handle loving someone who didn't love me back and I could handle supporting his marriage despite my feelings and being the one who backed away from the inappropriate conversations but I can't handle him using the marriage as some sort of weapon. It's like he's putting more and more pressure on my heart and now it's starting fracture and it fucking sucks.

I can find another guy to talk to, another guy to hook up, another guy to obsess over. 

But he has my heart and he's treating it like shit. 

I feel like shit. 

If I wasn't at work I'd be elbow deep in ice cream and tears. 

I guess my OneRepublic pandora station is't really helping.... 

I was just holding onto some small hope that maybe, just maybe, if I was good enough and worked hard enough and stayed around that maybe one day in the future he might be mine. It's not as if I was sitting at home waiting for him but it was always in the back of my mind.  I supported his marriage, his career choices, I've never doubted or criticized anything he did. Yet when I go on a date he doesn't talk to me. I have an actual problem and he can't be bothered to care. And when I just want to talk, like the friends I thought we were, he throws his wife in my face like I should be ashamed or guilty or something. 

So I'm withdrawing. I'm not going to try. I refuse to go on offense or defense. Right now I'm Switzerland. And maybe some day I'll love someone the way I love him. And maybe I won't. 

Either way it has to be better than this emptiness. 

xxKK

ONE NIGHT WITH NIKO

After the ordeal that is The Weekend That Was I took a little break from fun times. I re-evaluated my life and decided that perhaps the time for dragging drunk randos home has come to an end.

We'll see how long that lasts.

At first everything was going swimmingly - I was busy with work, happily crafting away in my spare time. I even read like.. 5 books.

And then that week was over.

It was a friday and Niko, another intern at my company, had been unusually chatty.

Let me tell you a little bit about Niko...

Niko showed up at work one day - no introduction, no explanation - and started working out in the main quad. To be perfectly honest it took me about 3 weeks to realize that he worked there and that he was the intern people kept talking about. I went by and introduced myself. At first he gave me an impossibly long Greek name and I smiled while thinking "there is no way in hell I can say that name." Then he laughed and told me to call him Niko.

In the following month I spoke to him maybe 3 more times. We were in the same meetings, working for the same people but I was pretty much glued to my desk and he was rolling in and out whenever he wanted.

Now sometimes he caught my eye - I mean he's decently pretty and looked enough like a man's man that I was mildly interested - but it was never anything more than a passing thought.

Until the day he got fired.

That day he came into my office and dat down all chatty and I got to know him. He's an artist and suddenly I'm learning all about him and his family and hey let's get a drink.

So we do.

Work ends and me and him go to get a drink. Which leads to us going to brooklyn to see an art show. Now there are few things that can drag me to brooklyn but a cute boy who wants to talk about art and might want to take my clothes off is one of those things. So cut to dirty  BK and I'm listening to an unwashed boy croon into a decade old mic and theres some sort of prayer circle going on and the art is part pop culture massacre and part wibblewobbles on canvas. Some giant scandanavian man named Cub tries to pick me up and Niko is surprised when I turn down his offer of a warm $5 can of heiniken light.

After about an hour of me not saying anything (which is very rare) Niko decides I've seen enough and he proposing coming back to my place for a drink and some painting. We wake up Lizz and her spouse and make them entertain us for a bit while Niko shows off his paintings of... well... paint. Different color paints all across the canvas in a sort of unabashed splatter.

Then he decides its time to paint. We retire to my bedroom and start painting (how erotic, I know) and I paint the eye of a bird.

He paints mud.

Then I start to make him up a bed on my couch (the one in my room) because thus far he's only shown interest in painting, spilling his guts and spouting bro vs. artist philosophy. He watches me and waits until I've finished making said bed before saying that "after painting together I'd feel wrong not sleeping in the same bed. I just want to be close to you."

Eh.

Why not.

So he gets into his skivvies. I get into my PJs. I get into bed and roll over to go to sleep.

Then Niko starts talking.

Now, for me, the bed is for 2 things. Sleeping. And sleeping with someone. No time for deep conversation and chit chat. I sleepy.

Well he's rambling on about shit and then he breaks it down for me. He wants to kiss me. I say.. okay. Then he say that he's going to kiss me, bite my neck, take off my shirt and have sex with me. If thats okay.

Eh. Sure.

So those events progress, I grab a condom and we start. Now I'm sober by this point. I've had several hours of Brooklyn, no alcohol and talking to sober me up. But not our boy Niko. No, no. He's wasted and soon out of breath and it seems like he's really getting worked up. I am really tired. So I propose we switch positions so he doesn't have to work so hard and I can put my face on the pillow without him noticing that I might possibly be taking a teeny tiny nap.

Well then he breaks it to me...

"Let me know when you're done... I'm doing this for you."

WHOA WHOA WHOA.

No.

Right now, I am doing you the favor buddy. I'm tired as hell. And frankly sort of over the sensitive artist thing. So I quite frankly tell him I'm tired and want to go to sleep and if he's not going to finish then he might as well stop.

Anyways thats done and I finally get to sleep.

Wake up to the sounds of jackhammers. Stare at the ceiling for several hours until he finally wakes up. He gets dressed, I walk him to the door and then I, in my cool, morning after way say "don't forget your paintings." Then he says "mind if I leave them here? I'll come get them later.."

And then he's gone. And I'm left with paint on my boob, a room to clean up and a pile of paintings that look like mud.

And that was my one night with Niko.


Oh wait... did I say I only had one night with him?... my mistake...

xxKK

THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 3)

(I'm so sorry that it's taken me almost a month to post part 3 but I'm like... really busy...


and ashamed)


Okay... so where did we leave off?..

Oh that's right. EMT disappoints and then departs.
Everything I want in a man and more...

(I really hope you read the sarcasm in that)

Anyways. Come sunday and I am not sure if the ground has turned to marshmellow or if the world is spinning extra fast but walking is not my friend. In fact general co-ordination is defying me. It takes me about 10 minutes to figure out how to put on pants. Get stuck at the zipper and decide to opt for a dress.

You might be wondering what someone in my, obviously impaired, state is doing getting dressed at all. I mean obviously I should be in bed with a banana and a blindfold.

Oh hush you dirty birds... banana to help the hangover (potasium) and blindfold to keep out the light (headache)

But alas, such comforts aren't afforded to this little boozehound. No, instead I force myself into clothes and drag myself uptown to meet the rest of the crew for brunch.
Or as us manhattanites like to call it: a classy excuse for pre-noon drinking.

The only problem with brunching is that any place worth the price of admission usually has an hours long wait. And thus we began our champagne and orange juice gorging long before the eggs benedict came. So I was about half in the bag before breakfast.

Oh lets be honest... I'd fallen through 2 bags into the bottom of a bottle.

I was drunnnnk.

Did I mention that this was also the finals before the superbowl?
So naturally after 3 hours of booze and foodz we decided to go (where else?) to a bar.
A few beers, slurred words and shots later I find this dashing young gentleman who is a medical student. He too takes some shots, we shoot the breeze for a while and yell at jocks on the tv screen.

I do love a man who can yell.

So I decide I need to go to my house and sober up. Funny how the bar is a block from my house. Mick (my new doctor friend) decides he too could use a glass of water and a quieter place to watch the game.
Get to my place.
I go to the bathroom for 1 minute to check my face and push some makeup around on it. I come back and guess what I find...

NAKED MICK.

As in, he has stripped down and pulled the naked man and was sitting on my couch ass naked.

Well shit.

Not much I can do now... so I move his nakedness into my room and join him for rounds 1 and 2.

And they weren't great rounds. Short, fast, over.  And frankly any man who has the balls to pull the naked man should make sure he has the cock to match them. And Mick didn't have the dick.
Sad times.
Anyways.

I know what you're thinking... 3 days of drinking, two sex buddies. How more unclassy can this be?

OH... let me tell you.

I'm lying there naked and Mick is talking to me and letting his hands wander and like.. whatever. Because I'm over it but I'm also drunk and not about to turn down extra fun. And his hands move lower and it's sort of sexy and then he prods me. Yeah. There. And not in a sexy way. And then he's like... staring at my vag and I'm like... excuse me? Go away. And he's like (I fuck you not) "Babe, it's okay, I'm a doctor"

WHAT??

Are you trying to give me a subtle vag exam?? Are you my OBGYN? Did I just get tricked into a pap smear? NO FUCKING WAY.

I then have a minor freak out because, lets face it, the fastest way to kill the mood is to go from play time to playing doctor.

So by this point, as far as I'm concerned the night is over. I'm tired, I'm annoyed, I want him to leave and I want to finally sleep off my shame.
But my girls NP and shiv call and they're out so I drag my ass back into clothing to go meet them.

Goodbye Mick.

Nope.

Mick wants to come.

So he jumps in a cab with me and we go meet my friends. Such a weird situation. The random guy I just banged (and then had try to medically examine me) playing pool with me, Shiv and Shiv's high school boyfriend Vesty.

And like.. Mick isn't bad looking. In fact he's pretty cute. Could use some fashion tips and maybe a little bit of proactiv but he's cute. But he also just pulled a weird med student thing on me and I dunno. I'm  drunk and it's weird.

Finally we call it a night and Mick and I split a cab home. I got him number  (yeah... haven't called that hot mess) and I slept on a pile of towels to avoid the bed of sin that I'd created.

The next day at work I looked as bad as I felt and I'm pretty sure I was oozing vodka but after hiding my face all day and managing not to vomit I felt like I'd paid the price for having such a bender.

It wasn't my finest hour but it probably won't be my messiest either.

and now it's time for bed.

xxKK