Lets forget about that last wibbly post for a minute and get back to some debaucherous details. And let's talk about how either I've gone into a warp of coincidences or, despite moving to a bigger city, my sex social circle has some how shrunk...
See... I was out with Charlotte tonight (note: it's a thursday) and her "work event" turned into a full on night out and somewhere between the dancing on tables and enjoying the free bottle service I looked up and in the haze of flashing neon lights and fog I see Nathaniel.
I shit you not.
How is it that I went through 5 YEARS of manhattan whoring and only ran into my men a handful of times but here, in a much bigger city, I run into him a week later?
Lemme paint you a little picture so you understand just how ridiculous this is; in New York I went to, maybe, 3 bars on the regular. I had a pretty steady routine. Which meant that my odds of running into people that I picked up in bars was extremely high. But I never really did. I mean if it wasn't for my work hookups and the fact that Shiv's coworker kept dragging EMT guy around (I never did remember his name) I wouldn't have ever seen any of them!
Either I was spoiled and led to believe in unrealistic odds or this is a fluke.
Because I wasn't in the same bar, on the same night as before. No. I was half an hour across town in a club, not a bar, on a thursday for a work event! So yeah, I was a little surprised when Mr. Fancypants Nathaniel showed up in his perfectly pressed white button down and Armani jeans.
Damn that boy can dress.
Anyways. I see him, he doesn't see me. Which is good because I haven't managed to find a hair straightener here in the UK yet and my make up was subpar at best. So I'm pleased. But I'm still raging on the dance floor so it's not long before he has seen me.
Bad hair and makeup and all.
But I'm looking pretty decent in my LBD and nude pumps so at least I have that going for me. And then suddenly I'm back in middle school at the awkward dance and I'm jamming with my girl Charlotte and he's sort of half leaning on the DJ booth, half shuffling from side to side.
On opposite sides of the dance floor.
Like children.
Oh wait. He is a child. Well there's his excuse. And I will use vodka as mine. Because other than some, what I am told is, superb lip biting and sexy eyes-from-across-the-room moves I made no effort to actually go say hi or try to, I dunno, dance together.
What a concept.
So I guess the moral of the story is that as far as sex and vodka go, we're all still in middle school.
Oh.. and London is way to fucking small.
xxKK
Showing posts with label Men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Men. Show all posts
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
BROKEN RULES AND A CROTCH HEART
After the whole MainSqueeze thing blew up in my face I vowed that I would never again let my heart live in my vagina.
I admit I've had some set backs in the whole heart in the crotch department. I've grown attached to some of my men over the years but nothing as delusional as that first real man-stake with MainSqueeze.
Now I'd like to say that it's been a wonderful world of detached sex but it's had its ups and downs. I mean on one hand you're already playing the chance game of one night stands but then you also have the bedroom politics. Some men don't like a woman who plays the emotionless sex game. God forbid you scream their names at night then leave without a kiss goodbye in the morning.
But if you ask for a number then you're needy.
Oh sweet jesus let me just bask in the hypocrisy that is men.
I'm getting off track. Where were we? Oh yes, detached sex and not letting my chatch rule my heart.
Sometimes it gets lonely. Sometimes I just want someone to talk to and tell them how my day went. Some days I wake up and wish that I had more to look forward to with my partner than a morning orgasm.
Other days I just want the orgasm.
See, I'm not completely heartless. I do want to find a boyfriend. Hell I'd even like to find a husband before I reach 30. But I'm also aware that pining over one night stands and secret bad boy flings doesn't get me anywhere closer to that pipe dream.
It is brutally obvious that when I'm only in town for 2 weeks, the guy I take home from the bar won't be my soulmate. Hell, even when I'm in town for 2 years that guy still probably isn't the one I want to spend rainy sunday mornings with.
So why, WHY DEAR GOD, am I starting to harbor feelings for a fling?
It's not even a plausible one. It's not like I'm in love with Mr. FancyPants Sebastian and his high school diploma, who at least lives in the same country as me. Nope. I've gone and developed wibbly girly feelings for a guy that lives a world away. I dunno if I should even say which of my escapades I'm referring to because it's just so implausible.
We have nothing in common, we barely ever talk and it's doubtful we'll ever be in the same location for very long.
Yet here I am, sitting up at night, thinking about him.
Someone shoot me, I think I have a crush.
It's just... despite not having anything in common with him and barely ever talking he is the guy that I want to spent rainy sunday mornings with. I think we'd be happy spending a night together where all of our clothes stay on. I believe he'd find my love of water gun fights endearing and sexy.
My day dreams often involve water gun fights.
None of this changes that it's ridiculous and stupid and could never work.
Also this doesn't take into account that, while I do think he enjoyed screwing me, I have no idea if he even sees me like that. I gotta figure out a way to shake this.
No, the answer is not to get over him by getting under someone else. I've already done that. It doesn't work. So if you have any useful advice for me, please send it my way. Because I feel like a right idiot.
Stoopid Vagina
xxKK
I admit I've had some set backs in the whole heart in the crotch department. I've grown attached to some of my men over the years but nothing as delusional as that first real man-stake with MainSqueeze.
Now I'd like to say that it's been a wonderful world of detached sex but it's had its ups and downs. I mean on one hand you're already playing the chance game of one night stands but then you also have the bedroom politics. Some men don't like a woman who plays the emotionless sex game. God forbid you scream their names at night then leave without a kiss goodbye in the morning.
But if you ask for a number then you're needy.
Oh sweet jesus let me just bask in the hypocrisy that is men.
I'm getting off track. Where were we? Oh yes, detached sex and not letting my chatch rule my heart.
Sometimes it gets lonely. Sometimes I just want someone to talk to and tell them how my day went. Some days I wake up and wish that I had more to look forward to with my partner than a morning orgasm.
Other days I just want the orgasm.
See, I'm not completely heartless. I do want to find a boyfriend. Hell I'd even like to find a husband before I reach 30. But I'm also aware that pining over one night stands and secret bad boy flings doesn't get me anywhere closer to that pipe dream.
It is brutally obvious that when I'm only in town for 2 weeks, the guy I take home from the bar won't be my soulmate. Hell, even when I'm in town for 2 years that guy still probably isn't the one I want to spend rainy sunday mornings with.
So why, WHY DEAR GOD, am I starting to harbor feelings for a fling?
It's not even a plausible one. It's not like I'm in love with Mr. FancyPants Sebastian and his high school diploma, who at least lives in the same country as me. Nope. I've gone and developed wibbly girly feelings for a guy that lives a world away. I dunno if I should even say which of my escapades I'm referring to because it's just so implausible.
We have nothing in common, we barely ever talk and it's doubtful we'll ever be in the same location for very long.
Yet here I am, sitting up at night, thinking about him.
Someone shoot me, I think I have a crush.
It's just... despite not having anything in common with him and barely ever talking he is the guy that I want to spent rainy sunday mornings with. I think we'd be happy spending a night together where all of our clothes stay on. I believe he'd find my love of water gun fights endearing and sexy.
My day dreams often involve water gun fights.
None of this changes that it's ridiculous and stupid and could never work.
Also this doesn't take into account that, while I do think he enjoyed screwing me, I have no idea if he even sees me like that. I gotta figure out a way to shake this.
No, the answer is not to get over him by getting under someone else. I've already done that. It doesn't work. So if you have any useful advice for me, please send it my way. Because I feel like a right idiot.
Stoopid Vagina
xxKK
Sunday, September 23, 2012
ON POPPING MY BRITISH CHERRY
So now that I've finished my rant about women having the right do to whatever the fuck they want with their vaginas I decided to go out for a rage and.. well.. do whatever the fuck I wanted with my vagina.
So I met up with my london gal pal and partner in crime, Charlotte, and we headed out into the night equipped with our wedges, lipgloss and predrink buzz.
We ended up at this bar that mostly smelt like vomit with potent drinks (hence the vomit smell) and an... erratic DJ.
Seriously I have to assume this guy was trippin balls on ritalin laced with acid because his music selection was just.. impossible. We're talking savage garden followed by old school beastie boys then backstreet boys then just compilations of lasers and dying animals.
And the crowd was loving it! There was some serious raging going on on the dance floor.
At first I felt that I was a littttle out of my element. But then I said fuck it, theres booze, how out of my element could I be?
3 hours later we were smashed, had lost 5 of the 7 people we'd arrived with and were ready to crawl back home. Charlotte stopped to bum a ciggy off of some fine gentleman from Australia and that's when I met him.
His name is Nathaniel.
Nathaniel.
Seriously?
I must be in England because that's a fancy ass name. And he looked fancy to match it. Despite the messy sort of night we'd had and the messy sort of bar we were in, Nathaniel was still perfectly pressed in a crisp white shirt that was tucked into jeans that cost more than my monthly rent. And don't even get me started on his perfect fucking face.
Needless to say we did not go home and get into our jammies like good girls should, noooo, we stayed and had more drinks and then when we were really tired we went back to Charlottes house and had a few more drinks.
That's about the time that Nathaniel, in very polite and proper fashion, invited me home with him.
Well. It's gotta happen some time and if I have to pick someone to pop my British cherry with I'm gonna take a guy that looks like he belongs in a magazine.
So we head off and we're chatting and then it slips out. He's a bit younger than me. I think, not a big deal, if you remember I just had Giles, the 20 year old, back home. Young is clearly not a problem for me.
No biggie.
So we get home and have some really glorious sex. This was not a Giles re-do, this kid knew exactly what he was doing.
*sigh*
The sad thing about great sex is that it always has to come to an end.
Which it did. But in the morning I got to have round 2,3 and 4. So I guess I can't really complain ;)
And in the morning we're lying there in post-mind-blowing-sex glory and we start chatting some more and I'm being nosy and looking around his immaculate room in his immaculate apartment and I spy a yearbook.
I love yearbooks (I was editor in chief of mine) so I grab it to leaf through and look at what a fancy English boarding school looks like when I catch sight of something terrifying.
"2012"
....
It's printed across the front of the yearbook in great big golden letters.
So, trying not to have a full freak out, I casually ask "is this yours?"
He tells me yes, and I say "but it says 2012" and he says "yeah. I graduated in June."
As in.. June 2012. As in this past June. As in the kid I just spent hours having sex with was graduating high school a year after I graduated from college.
This prompted a litttttle bit of a freak out which led to him telling me that it's fine... he's old for his year, he's been 19 for ages.
Somehow that just didn't make me feel better.
Anyways, on that horrifying note I found it was about that time to put my pants back on and crawl back to Charlottes so that I could try to sleep away some of the shame.
Naps had no effect unfortunately.
Once I made it home and had brushed out the sex-induced knots in my hair and told the story to a few friends it didn't seem so bad and now I'm basically over the shock and into the phase where I pat myself on the back for pulling a hot guy who's actually awesome in bed.
Good job Kitty. Good to know the move hasn't hurt your game. If anything, in fact, it seems to have upped your skillz. I'm slightly more confident now. Still need to get a job and figure out all this relocation stuff but hey, at least I've got one thing down pat.
xxKK
So I met up with my london gal pal and partner in crime, Charlotte, and we headed out into the night equipped with our wedges, lipgloss and predrink buzz.
We ended up at this bar that mostly smelt like vomit with potent drinks (hence the vomit smell) and an... erratic DJ.
Seriously I have to assume this guy was trippin balls on ritalin laced with acid because his music selection was just.. impossible. We're talking savage garden followed by old school beastie boys then backstreet boys then just compilations of lasers and dying animals.
And the crowd was loving it! There was some serious raging going on on the dance floor.
At first I felt that I was a littttle out of my element. But then I said fuck it, theres booze, how out of my element could I be?
3 hours later we were smashed, had lost 5 of the 7 people we'd arrived with and were ready to crawl back home. Charlotte stopped to bum a ciggy off of some fine gentleman from Australia and that's when I met him.
His name is Nathaniel.
Nathaniel.
Seriously?
I must be in England because that's a fancy ass name. And he looked fancy to match it. Despite the messy sort of night we'd had and the messy sort of bar we were in, Nathaniel was still perfectly pressed in a crisp white shirt that was tucked into jeans that cost more than my monthly rent. And don't even get me started on his perfect fucking face.
Needless to say we did not go home and get into our jammies like good girls should, noooo, we stayed and had more drinks and then when we were really tired we went back to Charlottes house and had a few more drinks.
That's about the time that Nathaniel, in very polite and proper fashion, invited me home with him.
Well. It's gotta happen some time and if I have to pick someone to pop my British cherry with I'm gonna take a guy that looks like he belongs in a magazine.
So we head off and we're chatting and then it slips out. He's a bit younger than me. I think, not a big deal, if you remember I just had Giles, the 20 year old, back home. Young is clearly not a problem for me.
No biggie.
So we get home and have some really glorious sex. This was not a Giles re-do, this kid knew exactly what he was doing.
*sigh*
The sad thing about great sex is that it always has to come to an end.
Which it did. But in the morning I got to have round 2,3 and 4. So I guess I can't really complain ;)
And in the morning we're lying there in post-mind-blowing-sex glory and we start chatting some more and I'm being nosy and looking around his immaculate room in his immaculate apartment and I spy a yearbook.
I love yearbooks (I was editor in chief of mine) so I grab it to leaf through and look at what a fancy English boarding school looks like when I catch sight of something terrifying.
"2012"
....
It's printed across the front of the yearbook in great big golden letters.
So, trying not to have a full freak out, I casually ask "is this yours?"
He tells me yes, and I say "but it says 2012" and he says "yeah. I graduated in June."
As in.. June 2012. As in this past June. As in the kid I just spent hours having sex with was graduating high school a year after I graduated from college.
This prompted a litttttle bit of a freak out which led to him telling me that it's fine... he's old for his year, he's been 19 for ages.
Somehow that just didn't make me feel better.
Anyways, on that horrifying note I found it was about that time to put my pants back on and crawl back to Charlottes so that I could try to sleep away some of the shame.
Naps had no effect unfortunately.
Once I made it home and had brushed out the sex-induced knots in my hair and told the story to a few friends it didn't seem so bad and now I'm basically over the shock and into the phase where I pat myself on the back for pulling a hot guy who's actually awesome in bed.
Good job Kitty. Good to know the move hasn't hurt your game. If anything, in fact, it seems to have upped your skillz. I'm slightly more confident now. Still need to get a job and figure out all this relocation stuff but hey, at least I've got one thing down pat.
xxKK
Sunday, September 16, 2012
THOUGHTS ON DOUBLE STANDARDS
Todays post is going to be a little different than my usual foray into manventures. I was talking this morning to one of my guy friends about his various lady problems and I was giving him some advice about how to drop a summer fling and how to avoid being friend zoned. Somewhere in the mix I said how I would have made such a better man than a girl.
And I do believe that on some level. I always end up hanging out with the guys and I've had way more close guy friends in my life than girl friends. I've always been attracted to the more masculine things in life. I like video games and taking apart electronics and football etc, etc.
And I often lump sex into that.
That's a problem. It's a double standard. I'm basically saying that it's more acceptable for guys to be sexually experienced. And yeah, sometimes I make poor decisions and I don't always have the best judgement when it comes to partners but does that mean I should be looked at as a slut or be given a bad reputation? If I were a guy I might get a little judgement for the quality of ass that I pulled but it wouldn't be seen as slutty or wrong.
How can I agree with that? When did I start letting other people tell me how I should live my life? Do I think I've made mistakes? Yes. Have some of those been sexual? Yes. But in the grand scheme of things does it make me a worse person?
No.
It doesn't. I enjoy sex and in my perfect world I would have a boyfriend who gave it to me regularly but just because I don't have the boyfriend doesn't mean I can't have the sex.
I have regrets but most of those revolve around the times that I've hurt someone. It's not like "oh no! I slept with someone else and am not immoral and slutty and stupid and I hate myself." No. It's usually "oh no... I didn't realize the effect that would have on that person I care about. I feel horrible that I hurt them."
So I'm taking back what I said to my friend this morning. I do still think my life would be easier if I were a man (I mean... no more cramps would be nice) but easier doesn't mean better. And being a girl I get to do things I wouldn't as a man... like give birth or wear high heels or change the double standard that comes with sexual experience.
I'm a girl. One who likes sex and has a lot of it. And I'm a goddamn fucking lady. And I refuse to let anyone, including myself, tell me otherwise.
I'm taking a stand and taking back my sexual identity. This is my body and these are my choices and I'm going to continue to make mistakes but I'm also going to continue enjoying my life and living by my terms.
xxKK
And I do believe that on some level. I always end up hanging out with the guys and I've had way more close guy friends in my life than girl friends. I've always been attracted to the more masculine things in life. I like video games and taking apart electronics and football etc, etc.
And I often lump sex into that.
That's a problem. It's a double standard. I'm basically saying that it's more acceptable for guys to be sexually experienced. And yeah, sometimes I make poor decisions and I don't always have the best judgement when it comes to partners but does that mean I should be looked at as a slut or be given a bad reputation? If I were a guy I might get a little judgement for the quality of ass that I pulled but it wouldn't be seen as slutty or wrong.
How can I agree with that? When did I start letting other people tell me how I should live my life? Do I think I've made mistakes? Yes. Have some of those been sexual? Yes. But in the grand scheme of things does it make me a worse person?
No.
It doesn't. I enjoy sex and in my perfect world I would have a boyfriend who gave it to me regularly but just because I don't have the boyfriend doesn't mean I can't have the sex.
I have regrets but most of those revolve around the times that I've hurt someone. It's not like "oh no! I slept with someone else and am not immoral and slutty and stupid and I hate myself." No. It's usually "oh no... I didn't realize the effect that would have on that person I care about. I feel horrible that I hurt them."
So I'm taking back what I said to my friend this morning. I do still think my life would be easier if I were a man (I mean... no more cramps would be nice) but easier doesn't mean better. And being a girl I get to do things I wouldn't as a man... like give birth or wear high heels or change the double standard that comes with sexual experience.
I'm a girl. One who likes sex and has a lot of it. And I'm a goddamn fucking lady. And I refuse to let anyone, including myself, tell me otherwise.
I'm taking a stand and taking back my sexual identity. This is my body and these are my choices and I'm going to continue to make mistakes but I'm also going to continue enjoying my life and living by my terms.
xxKK
Saturday, September 15, 2012
RECAP AND CATCH UP
Hey kids,
Long time no see. My fault, I know. I've been a little MIA for the past, oh I dunno, 3 months. But I had this whole debacle happen with Skip and Eric and then some work drama and moving drama and moving away from New York drama and it just all got a little much.
But its still not fair. I promised debauchery! And things are a little different now so I don't know how much of that promise I'll be able to keep but by god I will try.
Let's catch up.
So Skip found out that I had hooked up with Eric and stopped talking to me.
I vowed never again to see Eric but then Skip still didn't talk to/ forgive me so when Eric invited me out for his birthday I went.
That "early night" turned into triple shots of jager and crawling back into Erics bed.
Eric, instead of being fun drunk, decided to get all deep and emotional and thats not really my thing so that was a buzzkill. He still tried to insist on birthday sex... and we sort of did but he was drunk and couldn't keep up so my birthday present to him was pretending it was good for me.
After that he started texting and calling me all the time. Started talking about how he knew all the guys I slept with. In a creepy he-remembers-better-than-I-do way. Told half the people I know that we were dating and the other half that we had soooo much sex.
This was a clingy situation and, frankly, not to my liking so I cut him from my roster.
Run into Skip a few days later and he's completely find with me. like no problem at all. Because he wasn't mad.. no of course not.. he was just busy with his new job. I mean... why would he be mad that I was hanging out with his best friend? Right?
Yeah...
That awkward answer led to him asking if I'd slept with Eric... it's a small town. People talk. I wasn't going to lie to him! So I told Skip the truth and then he was mad for real.
But whatever.
You can't sex breakup with me and then get mad when I sleep with your best friend! I mean I get that it was kind of slutty but it's not like I knew who he was when I met him. Gosh.
After that I took some detours along the slutty train to make out with some ex-coworkers and a boy in a hot tub.
Then I took a trip to uncharted territory.
I became a cougarette.
I was partying with some boys I know from high school and they had this hot guy I'd never seen before with them. And he gave me that look. The one that lets you know that they want to take you home. And they get what they want.
I wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such a look.
I swooned.
Now lemme paint you a little picture. This guy, looked like Josh Harnett, circa 2002, with blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.
Swoon with me this time kids.
So we start talking and its charged and sexual and he invites me to an afterparty where we make out until one of my old buddies from HS tells me exactly who I'm kissing.
This is Giles... Charlie's baby cousin. Who is 20. Who just turned 20. And is three years younger than me and related to my very serious ex.
I tell Giles this isnt a good idea but hey, he's young, they're second cousins and he's very persuasive.
So we go back to his apartment and I learn that some kids just don't know how to use what god gave them.
So disappointing.
But at least I got to look at that beautiful face while I was disappointed.
The next morning Giles tried to get my number so we could hang out and I laughed a little and then told him I was leaving in two days. He was sad, but that's to be expected. Oh well.
Two days later Skip calls and wants to get together on my last night at home. I think we're gonna make up and... make up... but after a drink that I stretched a painful 2 hours and a rousing conversation about my big move he kissed me on the cheek and wished me well.
What the fuck?
You don't just call up a sex buddy that you aren't speaking to for drinks and then not sleep with them. It's just mean.
So being a child I instantly texted one of my guys friends, Austin, about my disappointing turn of events and he invited me over to remedy the situation.
Now... this was a little out of the blue. I mean I've known Austin since I was 14 and other than this one time when I was 15 where I made out with him for like 20 seconds I haven't had any interaction like that with him before. We're buddies. He helps me with my inability to fill motor vehicles with fuel and I provide witty commentary and banter.
But I was bored, super stressed about the move and 5 minutes from him so I threw on my sweat pants and went to Austins.
He greeted me in basketball shorts and a wifebeater, looking pretty fine, and then we just chilled out for 2 hours. We were sort of watching Transformers but that just turned into my ragging on Megan Fox and her bitchy cheekbones so after a while he turned it off and asked what I wanted to do.
Well... you know me..
Anyways I won't give you the details because this is just an overview, a quick catch up and it's getting pretty long, but I will say that it was the best fucking stress relief I've ever had. And Austin is fucking mad cool so I'm really hoping that we continue to... help each other out... whenever I'm home.
He's one of like... 3 people I talk to regularly from home.
Well.
That was summer back home. I have one story from my brief visit back to New York and a load of stuff to tell you about my new home but for now I'll just bid you adieu and say I've missed you and I hope that you're still checking in every now and then, even if I did desert you for a few months.
Love love love.
xxKK
Long time no see. My fault, I know. I've been a little MIA for the past, oh I dunno, 3 months. But I had this whole debacle happen with Skip and Eric and then some work drama and moving drama and moving away from New York drama and it just all got a little much.
But its still not fair. I promised debauchery! And things are a little different now so I don't know how much of that promise I'll be able to keep but by god I will try.
Let's catch up.
So Skip found out that I had hooked up with Eric and stopped talking to me.
I vowed never again to see Eric but then Skip still didn't talk to/ forgive me so when Eric invited me out for his birthday I went.
That "early night" turned into triple shots of jager and crawling back into Erics bed.
Eric, instead of being fun drunk, decided to get all deep and emotional and thats not really my thing so that was a buzzkill. He still tried to insist on birthday sex... and we sort of did but he was drunk and couldn't keep up so my birthday present to him was pretending it was good for me.
After that he started texting and calling me all the time. Started talking about how he knew all the guys I slept with. In a creepy he-remembers-better-than-I-do way. Told half the people I know that we were dating and the other half that we had soooo much sex.
This was a clingy situation and, frankly, not to my liking so I cut him from my roster.
Run into Skip a few days later and he's completely find with me. like no problem at all. Because he wasn't mad.. no of course not.. he was just busy with his new job. I mean... why would he be mad that I was hanging out with his best friend? Right?
Yeah...
That awkward answer led to him asking if I'd slept with Eric... it's a small town. People talk. I wasn't going to lie to him! So I told Skip the truth and then he was mad for real.
But whatever.
You can't sex breakup with me and then get mad when I sleep with your best friend! I mean I get that it was kind of slutty but it's not like I knew who he was when I met him. Gosh.
After that I took some detours along the slutty train to make out with some ex-coworkers and a boy in a hot tub.
Then I took a trip to uncharted territory.
I became a cougarette.
I was partying with some boys I know from high school and they had this hot guy I'd never seen before with them. And he gave me that look. The one that lets you know that they want to take you home. And they get what they want.
I wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such a look.
I swooned.
Now lemme paint you a little picture. This guy, looked like Josh Harnett, circa 2002, with blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.
Spitting image.
Swoon with me this time kids.
So we start talking and its charged and sexual and he invites me to an afterparty where we make out until one of my old buddies from HS tells me exactly who I'm kissing.
This is Giles... Charlie's baby cousin. Who is 20. Who just turned 20. And is three years younger than me and related to my very serious ex.
I tell Giles this isnt a good idea but hey, he's young, they're second cousins and he's very persuasive.
So we go back to his apartment and I learn that some kids just don't know how to use what god gave them.
So disappointing.
But at least I got to look at that beautiful face while I was disappointed.
The next morning Giles tried to get my number so we could hang out and I laughed a little and then told him I was leaving in two days. He was sad, but that's to be expected. Oh well.
Two days later Skip calls and wants to get together on my last night at home. I think we're gonna make up and... make up... but after a drink that I stretched a painful 2 hours and a rousing conversation about my big move he kissed me on the cheek and wished me well.
What the fuck?
You don't just call up a sex buddy that you aren't speaking to for drinks and then not sleep with them. It's just mean.
So being a child I instantly texted one of my guys friends, Austin, about my disappointing turn of events and he invited me over to remedy the situation.
Now... this was a little out of the blue. I mean I've known Austin since I was 14 and other than this one time when I was 15 where I made out with him for like 20 seconds I haven't had any interaction like that with him before. We're buddies. He helps me with my inability to fill motor vehicles with fuel and I provide witty commentary and banter.
But I was bored, super stressed about the move and 5 minutes from him so I threw on my sweat pants and went to Austins.
He greeted me in basketball shorts and a wifebeater, looking pretty fine, and then we just chilled out for 2 hours. We were sort of watching Transformers but that just turned into my ragging on Megan Fox and her bitchy cheekbones so after a while he turned it off and asked what I wanted to do.
Well... you know me..
Anyways I won't give you the details because this is just an overview, a quick catch up and it's getting pretty long, but I will say that it was the best fucking stress relief I've ever had. And Austin is fucking mad cool so I'm really hoping that we continue to... help each other out... whenever I'm home.
He's one of like... 3 people I talk to regularly from home.
Well.
That was summer back home. I have one story from my brief visit back to New York and a load of stuff to tell you about my new home but for now I'll just bid you adieu and say I've missed you and I hope that you're still checking in every now and then, even if I did desert you for a few months.
Love love love.
xxKK
Sunday, July 29, 2012
LIGHT ME UP LIKE A GLOW STICK, BABY.
After the injuries of last week I decided I needed to a) not hook up with vag breakers anymore b) probably find a new playmate and c) rave the pain away.
Success on all counts.
A) I saw Grant at happy hour and, despite the fact that I basically walked into a trashcan, I managed to play it cool and just give him a friendly wave.
B) While out on Thursday night I found myself in VIP with bottle service with some old coworkers and I met two new hot boy friends. One, who right now doesn't really matter, and Eric. A blue eyed bad boy with a wicked smile and sense of humor. He worked pretty hard to keep my attention and, not only did he ask for my number, but he also used it. He used it to send me sweet nothings and make plans for the next night.
C) About that next night. There was a rave at one of the bars so after I went to happy hour, dinner and drinks with Marie, I met up with Eric and my girls and went down, dressed in a blindingly neon green shirt and sunglasses. Because I wear sunglasses at night. Because I'm a douchebag.
Now, for the record, I haven't been to a rave since I went through my... precarious party phase in New York. And I don't really rage like that anymore so I went thinking I'd have a few drinks, dance under the strobe light, head home early.
NOT THE CASE.
I had a few drinks, danced under the strobe light, fell down some stairs, raged like a true raver, ended up on stage at some point, got yelled at by the bouncer and, at around 2:30, blitzed out of my mind, left with Eric.
First we went back to Eric's friends house to listen to a really weird mix of music and do vodka shots and be weird. Left around 6 am. Went to Eric's where I promptly demanded to be horizontal and opted out of a shower so I could climb into bed.
Probably a bad idea. I was so dirty.
I had god only knows what in my hair, I was sweaty, covered in booze and neon paint and I looked worse than I've looked in a loooong time. But when Eric got back from his shower none of that dirtiness stopped him from jumping right into bed with me. At first, respecting the post rave exhaustion, he just cuddled and rubbed my back. Once I'd slept a while we began to play.
No sex but a lot of fun.
In the morning we realized that, having left his bike in town we had no trans so Eric starts to text his nearby friends to see if anyone will give us a ride. And we're snuggling and I can see him texting and I notice that he's talking to someone named Skip.
Yup.
Skip.
My Skipper.
And here Eric is... asking him to come pick us up. So I mention that maybe, just maybe, that's not the greatest idea. Because I know him.
In the biblical sense.
And this it hits me. This is Eric. This is Skipper's best friend Eric. Who Skip has told me about in detail. HIS BEST FRIEND. So of course immediately Eric tells Skip that he's with me.
Radio Silence.
Apparently Skipper didn't want to sleep with me anymore... but he also didn't want his friends to either...
Oops.
I mean... what's the protocol for something like this? What does whore etiquette dictate for accidental best friend seducing?
The good news is that being Eskimo buddies with Skip doesn't seem to bother Eric.
We ended up calling a cab and I got redressed in my neon green dress, looked at myself in the mirror and tried, in vain, to pull myself together into some semblance of normalcy. Because I looked like shit. On top of the previous nights mess I now had bed head and some serious pillow marks.
Plus you know how after you've raged you wake up with everything looking different. Like your eyes are dull and your skin is gross looking and you smell like death.
Yeah.
That.
So I threw on some emergency makeup, tried to tame my hair into a bun and walked out in a slutty slutty rave outfit.
Neon Walk Of Shame.
When I stopped to get cash out it was mortifying. I'm dressed like a fucking highlighter and everybody is staring at me. A bright light of shame. Or game. Either one.
Anyways, I think it might have been worth the shame because I found a fun playmate for, hopefully, the rest of the summer. I thought that, like most boys, he would just sort of disappear. That once I was out of sight I'd be out his thoughts too. But no. It's Sunday and ever since I left his side yesterday I've had a constant stream of lovely messages from him and he has been quite convincing in trying me to come over. I mean he promised me a back massage! Thats some serious willpower kryptonite. But luckily for my dignity I have no trans. I'm trying to make him work for it.
Wish me luck, lovelies.
xxKK
Yup.
Skip.
My Skipper.
And here Eric is... asking him to come pick us up. So I mention that maybe, just maybe, that's not the greatest idea. Because I know him.
In the biblical sense.
And this it hits me. This is Eric. This is Skipper's best friend Eric. Who Skip has told me about in detail. HIS BEST FRIEND. So of course immediately Eric tells Skip that he's with me.
Radio Silence.
Apparently Skipper didn't want to sleep with me anymore... but he also didn't want his friends to either...
Oops.
I mean... what's the protocol for something like this? What does whore etiquette dictate for accidental best friend seducing?
The good news is that being Eskimo buddies with Skip doesn't seem to bother Eric.
We ended up calling a cab and I got redressed in my neon green dress, looked at myself in the mirror and tried, in vain, to pull myself together into some semblance of normalcy. Because I looked like shit. On top of the previous nights mess I now had bed head and some serious pillow marks.
Plus you know how after you've raged you wake up with everything looking different. Like your eyes are dull and your skin is gross looking and you smell like death.
Yeah.
That.
So I threw on some emergency makeup, tried to tame my hair into a bun and walked out in a slutty slutty rave outfit.
Neon Walk Of Shame.
When I stopped to get cash out it was mortifying. I'm dressed like a fucking highlighter and everybody is staring at me. A bright light of shame. Or game. Either one.
Anyways, I think it might have been worth the shame because I found a fun playmate for, hopefully, the rest of the summer. I thought that, like most boys, he would just sort of disappear. That once I was out of sight I'd be out his thoughts too. But no. It's Sunday and ever since I left his side yesterday I've had a constant stream of lovely messages from him and he has been quite convincing in trying me to come over. I mean he promised me a back massage! Thats some serious willpower kryptonite. But luckily for my dignity I have no trans. I'm trying to make him work for it.
Wish me luck, lovelies.
xxKK
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
ON MAKING OUT WITH MITCH
So last week we learned about Jay, my work husband and one time playmate.
This week lets talk about Mitch.
His boss.
So remember how I said I try not to do anything blog worthy at my job? Oops. I fucked up.
Twice.
First with Jay and then with Mitch.
See the night after I hooked up with Jay I decided to hang out with the crew again. Now technically I had finished my internship and no longer was a member of the company but I was still seeing them pretty frequently.
Anyways.
Jay, Mitch, myself and two other employees decide to go out for Korean munchies and drinks after work the day after Jay and I hooked up. It starts out as just a few drinks and food and fun and all that goodness. Then the suggestion of karaoke comes up.
In case you didn't know already... I love Karaoke. LOVE.
The last time I went to Karaoke with this crew of characters we got so wasted that Jay took off his shirt and effectively molested our head of HR.
Clearly this is an experience we all need to repeat.
So we roll down to K Town for some good ol' fashioned singing fun. Belt out a few jams. Then everyone decides to pack in ti pretty early. Jay ditches for home the first and then everyone sort of peters off.
Then it's just Mitch and I.
Which is sort of weird because Mitch, being one of the bosses at the company, is not really someone I ever spent alone time with.
As the only one who doesn't have a job to get to in the morning I was expecting to have to go home early but was more than happy to oblige when Mitch suggested we get another drink.
Now heres a little background on Mitch.
Mitch is a sexy, 30 something, who dresses wonderfully, is ridiculously sweet but still can joke like a bro.
Oh and he's married with two beautiful children.
So we go to a bar and order a pair of beers and Mitch starts to open up. Like a lot. About how horrible his marriage is and how his wife doesn't love him and I'm like... I'm 22... how do I help a grown man with his grown up problems?
So we nurse our beers for about an hour and I try to help him with some super deep and drunk advice.
We decide we've been nursing our, not yet finished, beers for long enough and he offers to drive me home.
Who am I to turn down a free ride, right?
So we walk towards Mitch's car and right before we get to the parking lot he pulls me aside and, in the cutest way ever asks if he can kiss me.
Now I know what you're thinking. He's married! And that is a huge dealbreaker for me. It always has been. But he had just bared his tortured little soul and he asked so nicely and he's so sexy and I was so drunk.
So I said yes.
Pure sidewalk makin' out.
It was great. We then pull apart and head to get his car. Get this... he opens the door for me. Like... for real. He seems almost flabbergasted that I would even presume to open my own door.
Oh my god its a fucking Gentleman. I thought these had gone extinct!
I get in the car and Mitch pulls out of the car park annnnnd into a parking spot.
20 more make out minutes. He throws on some sweet jams and we're talking and kissing and if you forget about the wife and kids it's actually really nice. But you can't really forget about the wife since she calls him and asks where he's sobering up. Not exactly a mood maker.
Anyways. Mitch drives me home. Pulls over to let me out annnnnd more make out.
And he is just laying on the compliments and is acting so cute and he's asking if he's okay at kissing and I feel like I'm back in high school and teaching boys how to kiss. And usually a man needing validation in his skills is a turn off... like... don't be so needy. Don't fish for compliments. I want a man to be so self assured and confident that he doesn't need me to tell him how great he is.
But I'll make an exception in this case. Because he was so damn cute about it.
So we kiss and confer for a little while but then it's 3 am and where did the time go? He walks me to my door, more kisses and then leaves. And I'm like... what the fuck just happened?...
Oh My God.
Who am I and where did Kitty Kat go?
ugh.
xxKK
This week lets talk about Mitch.
His boss.
So remember how I said I try not to do anything blog worthy at my job? Oops. I fucked up.
Twice.
First with Jay and then with Mitch.
See the night after I hooked up with Jay I decided to hang out with the crew again. Now technically I had finished my internship and no longer was a member of the company but I was still seeing them pretty frequently.
Anyways.
Jay, Mitch, myself and two other employees decide to go out for Korean munchies and drinks after work the day after Jay and I hooked up. It starts out as just a few drinks and food and fun and all that goodness. Then the suggestion of karaoke comes up.
In case you didn't know already... I love Karaoke. LOVE.
The last time I went to Karaoke with this crew of characters we got so wasted that Jay took off his shirt and effectively molested our head of HR.
Clearly this is an experience we all need to repeat.
So we roll down to K Town for some good ol' fashioned singing fun. Belt out a few jams. Then everyone decides to pack in ti pretty early. Jay ditches for home the first and then everyone sort of peters off.
Then it's just Mitch and I.
Which is sort of weird because Mitch, being one of the bosses at the company, is not really someone I ever spent alone time with.
As the only one who doesn't have a job to get to in the morning I was expecting to have to go home early but was more than happy to oblige when Mitch suggested we get another drink.
Now heres a little background on Mitch.
Mitch is a sexy, 30 something, who dresses wonderfully, is ridiculously sweet but still can joke like a bro.
Oh and he's married with two beautiful children.
So we go to a bar and order a pair of beers and Mitch starts to open up. Like a lot. About how horrible his marriage is and how his wife doesn't love him and I'm like... I'm 22... how do I help a grown man with his grown up problems?
So we nurse our beers for about an hour and I try to help him with some super deep and drunk advice.
We decide we've been nursing our, not yet finished, beers for long enough and he offers to drive me home.
Who am I to turn down a free ride, right?
So we walk towards Mitch's car and right before we get to the parking lot he pulls me aside and, in the cutest way ever asks if he can kiss me.
Now I know what you're thinking. He's married! And that is a huge dealbreaker for me. It always has been. But he had just bared his tortured little soul and he asked so nicely and he's so sexy and I was so drunk.
So I said yes.
Pure sidewalk makin' out.
It was great. We then pull apart and head to get his car. Get this... he opens the door for me. Like... for real. He seems almost flabbergasted that I would even presume to open my own door.
Oh my god its a fucking Gentleman. I thought these had gone extinct!
I get in the car and Mitch pulls out of the car park annnnnd into a parking spot.
20 more make out minutes. He throws on some sweet jams and we're talking and kissing and if you forget about the wife and kids it's actually really nice. But you can't really forget about the wife since she calls him and asks where he's sobering up. Not exactly a mood maker.
Anyways. Mitch drives me home. Pulls over to let me out annnnnd more make out.
And he is just laying on the compliments and is acting so cute and he's asking if he's okay at kissing and I feel like I'm back in high school and teaching boys how to kiss. And usually a man needing validation in his skills is a turn off... like... don't be so needy. Don't fish for compliments. I want a man to be so self assured and confident that he doesn't need me to tell him how great he is.
But I'll make an exception in this case. Because he was so damn cute about it.
So we kiss and confer for a little while but then it's 3 am and where did the time go? He walks me to my door, more kisses and then leaves. And I'm like... what the fuck just happened?...
Oh My God.
Who am I and where did Kitty Kat go?
ugh.
xxKK
Sunday, January 1, 2012
STARTING THE YEAR OUT RIGHT
So in 2010 I wrote 73 blog posts.
In 2011 I wrote 37.
Instead of reversing the numbers this year I think I should aim to just add them together. Lets aim for 110 blog posts! After all... without a regular update (like the past few months) y'all might just forget about me. We obviously can't let that happen.
So far it looks like this year will be just as equally disappointing and dramatic as before.
Last year I ended my new year eve shoeless, boyless and classless. Just envision a hot mess in lace with mascara dripping off her face.
Dat wuz me.
This year I manages not to lose my shoes or dignity (completely) and I didn't cry.
Still boyless though.
Although.
Sort of. In the most depressing way.
You see. Last night I was approached by THREE separate men.
They went on about how sexy I am, how much fun I am, how they wish they could be with me, how it sucks that I'm only home a few weeks a year, etc etc.
Sounds nice, right?
WRONG.
All of these guys have girlfriends.
All of them.
So all of their "you're so sexy" came with a "but.... I'm dating someone"
Like, really??
What was the point of this?
Like why bother telling me all of these things if you can't deliver.
Like this lady doesn't run on would-of, could-of, should-of's.
The first one was sort of sweet in a misguided drunkery way.
Then came numero dos... who decided that after he showered me with compliments and what-ifs that he would then bemoan having a girlfriend... because he loves her, he truly does, but he just wishes that you and him could have your shot.
Oh! But wait! He has a great idea! "We" should convince his girlfriend to let us ALL hook up and have fun together!
Yah. That's not happening buddy.
But my all time favorite was the third one. Who pretty much rehashed everything from the second guy and THEN went on to try to pump me up. "Oh you're going to find a guy who sees you like I do. Someone who deserves you/appreciates you/etc etc." Like... a 20 minute fucking love pep talk.
Ugh things I don't want to hear when I'm drunk and lonely.
Like, I realize that one day I'll find someone but that doesn't help me right now... that doesn't help with my problem of getting involved in douchebags who are definitely short term.
Urg. Anyways I'd flush this out with more snark but frankly I'm tired and I'm rushing to get this posted before it is no longer the first day of 2012.
Now I'm off to clear out the glitter covered golden seahorse that I found in my purse last night.
xxKK
In 2011 I wrote 37.
Instead of reversing the numbers this year I think I should aim to just add them together. Lets aim for 110 blog posts! After all... without a regular update (like the past few months) y'all might just forget about me. We obviously can't let that happen.
So far it looks like this year will be just as equally disappointing and dramatic as before.
Last year I ended my new year eve shoeless, boyless and classless. Just envision a hot mess in lace with mascara dripping off her face.
Dat wuz me.
This year I manages not to lose my shoes or dignity (completely) and I didn't cry.
Still boyless though.
Although.
Sort of. In the most depressing way.
You see. Last night I was approached by THREE separate men.
They went on about how sexy I am, how much fun I am, how they wish they could be with me, how it sucks that I'm only home a few weeks a year, etc etc.
Sounds nice, right?
WRONG.
All of these guys have girlfriends.
All of them.
So all of their "you're so sexy" came with a "but.... I'm dating someone"
Like, really??
What was the point of this?
Like why bother telling me all of these things if you can't deliver.
Like this lady doesn't run on would-of, could-of, should-of's.
The first one was sort of sweet in a misguided drunkery way.
Then came numero dos... who decided that after he showered me with compliments and what-ifs that he would then bemoan having a girlfriend... because he loves her, he truly does, but he just wishes that you and him could have your shot.
Oh! But wait! He has a great idea! "We" should convince his girlfriend to let us ALL hook up and have fun together!
Yah. That's not happening buddy.
But my all time favorite was the third one. Who pretty much rehashed everything from the second guy and THEN went on to try to pump me up. "Oh you're going to find a guy who sees you like I do. Someone who deserves you/appreciates you/etc etc." Like... a 20 minute fucking love pep talk.
Ugh things I don't want to hear when I'm drunk and lonely.
Like, I realize that one day I'll find someone but that doesn't help me right now... that doesn't help with my problem of getting involved in douchebags who are definitely short term.
Urg. Anyways I'd flush this out with more snark but frankly I'm tired and I'm rushing to get this posted before it is no longer the first day of 2012.
Now I'm off to clear out the glitter covered golden seahorse that I found in my purse last night.
xxKK
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