WEEKEND GETAWAY / THE POST-SEX BREAKDOWN THAT WAS

I promise that I will tell you the rest of the Niko story soon but if I try to write this blog in a strictly chronological order then it may never get told. Lets face it. I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Anyways. I came home this weekend. Not for any particular reason, just because my father offered to pay for it and who am I to turn down free airfare? And I'm so used to coming home and raging my face off and seeing a million different people and sleeping with a little less than a million people and just having an awesome me-centered time.

Well, I didn't really tell anyone I was coming home and then I got back and expected to be like "surprise! love me!" but instead it was sort of lame. Like I still raged my face off. But it wasn't what I expected. I spent my first 7 hours at home lying on my bed and singing along to Josh Groban. Finally got to dinner with a friend... one drink turned into 5 and then the night really began. Hit a pre-drink where a rousing game of Never Have I Ever revealed to everyone that there is very little I've never done. 2 bottles of vodka later we roll into town and it's like... dead.

That doesn't stop us from grabbing some drinks and some shots and moving to another bar where it isn't so dead. And I'm wasted and smiley and everything is good when I see one of my guy friends who does know I'm home. I see he's with a little group of our friends so I run over and give him a huge hug and when I step back I see the 4th person in the group.

Ninja.

Who then asks me where his hug is.

So I give it to him but I feel like I've been hit with a sledgehammer. Like... he's never out. Ever. I didn't expect this. So a bit of my drunk slips away.

Can't let that happen.

More shots, more drinks, double fisting. All the way, baby.

So at this point I'm sort of toying with the line between fun drunk and emotional drunk. And Ninja, being the wonderful man he can be asks whats wrong and is being so nice and I find out that the earlier upset we had was pretty much all in my head. That he didn't realize how upset I was. That I'm basically a big baby. So that's good. And we're good. It's all good. And then his wife pops up.

Death.

5 mins later he's grinding up on her and I'm sucking back my drink and someone else's as well.

This inevitably leads to me telling crying in public and telling two people who don't even know me that well that I'm in love with Ninja. Mortifying. One can only hope they were as drunk as me and forget. So I cry. Drink. Cry more. Then start my journey home. Which is where I run into the guy I hugged before (and thus he shall be called Ken) And Ken wants to hang out. SO we are going to go back to his place but our ride is really wasted so we walked to a nearby house instead. As soon as the tenants of the house go to bed I fuck Ken on the living room floor.

By fuck I mean we tried but being as intoxicated as we were it was more of an awkward messy bump'n'grind.

Wake up fully dressed next to a naked Ken a few hours later. I'm fucking freezing, I can't believe I've slept with him and I'm about on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Ken wakes up and is sober enough to go grab his bike to drive us home. The whole way I'm blabbering like an idiot and I can't tell if its the breakdown or if I'm still drunk or if maybe I'm just a fucking crazy person.

He drops me at home and I am literally acting like a fucking nutbag. I'm all "I hope you still respect me, I hope I'm not pregnant, please don't tell anyone, are you ashamed of me??" and Ken's laughter is slowly turning from haha (you're funny) to haha (you might kill me in a minute)

Got home. Cried for an hour. Sent overly dramatic facebook messages to Lizz and Shiv. Finally get to sleep at 8am. Wake up at 10 am, FUCK NO. Wake up at 12 and finally shower off all the vodka and scrub off the smell of condoms.

Honestly.. those fucking things like permeate your skin. I swear I thought my dad was going to be able to smell the sex on me.

I calm down a little bit.

See... I wasn't really upset about having sex with Ken. Let's be honest, I've made worse decisions before. But I just never thought of him that way and I was so upset about Ninja, to then go fuck his friend. Ugh. He's never going to love me if I keep being such a giant whore.

Not that he'd love me regardless.

But still.

I don't think I was emotionally stable for sex with someone that I didn't have that sort of relationship with. On one hand I was like haha I don't need Ninja I can get anyone to have sex with me! And on the other hand it was like.... Omg... I'll have sex with anyone...

Arg oh well.

PBA helped me get over it the next night.

But lets save that tidbit of gossip for another time ;)...

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

GIMPY McGIMPSTER

So I went out the other night.

Shocking news, I know. 

But I went out. 

Candi's baby sister was in town so we clearly had to get her wasted. So we went out. And we got wasted and we needed to sing out our little drunken hearts so we went downstairs to sing some karaoke. And while I was up there crooning out a mediocre version of "Use Somebody" some dumbass guy decided to mop the floor. 

Mop the floor so that when I triumphantly pranced off stage in my 6 inch heels I slipped and fell all the way down. 

Oh yes. All the way. As in I was flat on my back.

And I felt a little twinge of pain that progressively got worse but the 9 drinks I'd had helped me numb that pain. Cut to an hour later, two more drinks and a shot of jager and I was teetering my way out the door. Went to Duane Reade, got snacks and trashy magazines, went back outside and made out with a random Irish man (much better looking than Samwise) then walked Candi to 10th ave to get a cab. Then went home.

Cut to the next morning when I wake up and try to get out of bed to get some much needed water and Boom. Blinding pain. 

I find that I am completely unable to bear weight, or any slight amount of pressure, on my right foot without blinding pain. So I, being my crafty little self, manage to use the many piles of crap around my bed to get onto the floor on my knees and I half crawl, half drag myself out of the bedroom. 

Mugwugs in the living room watching TV and I lay on the floor (because it hurts so bad that I literally can't go any further) and start crying and telling him I think I broke my ankle. 

He doesn't even get off the couch.

He looks at me. Lying on the floor in agony and actually laughs. Because he thinks it's so funny. After what felt to be an hour of me lying there I finally realized there was no chance in hell that he was going to get up and help me so I asked him to at least roll me my office chair. Managed to pull myself up into it with a substantial amount of pain and roll myself closer to him. 

He shrugs off my pain and starts watching a marathon of Locked Up Abroad. 

Which isn't even that good of a show. 

And he lets me sit there for 6 hours in agony until Siobhan can get off work and come get me to take me to the hospital. And it's not like he was ignorant of the pain. I can handle a lot of pain.. I have a lot of practice with all the injuries I've had and my fairly chronic joint pain. But I was in pain. I was so in pain that I was willing to go to the doctors. Now I am not someone who likes doctors. In fact I hate them. I would rather stay in bed with a 105 degree temperature than go to a doctor. I'd rather wait three days before going to a hospital to get my fractured wrist looked at. I'd rather take an advil than go see someone about the everyday pain I have. I don't like doctors. I don't like hospitals. I don't like them. 

So when I say that I need to go to the hospital it means it's serious. It means it's bad. It means I feel so horrible that I will put aside my extreme hatred of all things doctorly to get whatever's wrong fixed. 

It means I think I've broken my ankle. 

So I tell him I need to go and I need someone to take me (hint hint) and he doesn't move. Doesn't offer to help. Says he'd put me in a cab and let me go alone. 

Dear MugWug, if I can't get into a cab alone how the hell am I supposed to get out of it and into an ER alone?? Are you really this much of an uncaring fucktard of a human being? 

So I sit there. For six hours. In pain. 

He left to get lunch and gave so much lip when I asked him to pick me up something. I shouldn't be surprised. The boy wouldn't help me and my potentially broken ankle off the floor, why wouldn't he facilitate more pain through starvation? Clearly this is not someone who gives a shit about me. 

So the very wonderful, incredible, awesome, super powered Siobhan got off of work at 4:30 and came over. She helped me out the door, down the stairs, into a cab, out of a cab, into a wheelchair, into the ER and, even though she was cutting into her very sparse free time between her jobs, she sat with me for an hour and a half while the doctors took my stats and felt my leg and she kept my mind on things other than how much my ankle hurt. And even though she had to leave before I got discharged she waited until she knew I was okay, I was going to get crutches and until the last possible second. 

So I got x-rayed and poked and prodded and the doctors asked me all sorts of wonderfully awkward questions and then I got the results. 

No break but a very serious sprain with some torn ligaments. I was told that it was good that I came in since putting any pressure on it for the next 7 days would be detrimental and would stop it from healing properly. So I have to stay off the leg for 7 days. Then gentle and gradual increments of weight can be applied. And they gave me crutches, but anyone who's had crutches will tell you... they are not fun. So when I'm at home I use my office chair to get around. It's got wheels and goes quite speedily along so it's easier. Plus I can carry things in my arms while I roll around.

Pretty much I'm a genius. 

I'm saving the crutches for when I leave the apartment... which I haven't done yet because the stairs are really tricky and my foot is still too swollen to fit into any of my shoes. (except for my bright blue wilderness slippers which Siobahn and NP and vehemently told me they'd disown me if they ever caught me wearing them in public.) 

So I've been home. For 51 hours. And I still had people over for Sunday Family Dinner yesterday (even though it had to be delivery pizza instead of home cooked goodness) which was nice but now it's just me. Me and hours and hours of Grey's Anatomy. 

Oh.. and the asshole who couldn't help me off the floor. 

So it's really fun times. 

Really. Really. Fun times. 

xxKK

INTO THE FIRES OF MORDOR

So as my life goes as soon as I start complaining on the interwebs about how I'm lacking in a particular area of life BOOM interweb jesus decides to fix it for me. Which then makes me look very hypocritical and flaky but whatever. So in my typically ironic life as soon as I'd finished typing about my boring sexless life I got laid.

Me and Shiv were out and it was a fairly quiet night but we were hanging with this Irish boy (very very adorable and cute but I'll let Shiv name him since... well... that comes later in the story)

Anyways we're hanging out with the boy at our favorite late night Karaoke spot, singing a little Britney, drinking a bit of Magners. The usual. And I pop off to the bathroom and come back to a very very cozy looking Shiv and boy.

So I detour to the bar where I am stopped by another Irish man. This one is shorter in both height and attractivity (yes I know that's not a real word) than Shiv's but he's Irish and I'm a sucker for an accent. He asks if he can buy me a drink. Clearly I'd just bought myself one so.. no. Then we talk about my two friends who are now sucking face on the dance floor.

Then I signed out my tab (since it was 4am and the bar was closing) and leave. Shiv and boy come with. As does other Irish man. Lets call him... Sam.

So I say goodnight to Shiv and boy and start to head home before Sam pulls me aside. We kiss a bit and he invites himself home. Now I hadn't had enough to drink to be slutty enough to go without some convincing but when he made it clear he wasn't leaving I was like, eh, what the hell. Might as well.

So I take him home. And the entire three block walk from the bar to my house he complains about how far it is and every third of a block he, quite roughly, pulls me aside and starts to kiss me.

See... usually a little force would be a turn on but like... it was a bit much. And a little annoying. And frankly a little more forceful that I would like. To the point that I started to regret the decision before I'd even gotten him home.

So just as a precaution in case he tried to murder me post sex I texted Siobhan he was a potential killer so she should maybe call the cops if she didn't hear from me in a few hours and told Sam that I had two roommates who would be home at any moment (total lie. only have MugWug and he was in Cali for the weekend) so he better be nice and quiet (and please not kill me)

Anyways I get him into my house and I was sort of expecting something great... like.. he was so freaking pushy on the street I expected him to be controlling and manly and sexy in bed but... no. He was decent but he was not well endowed and not much of anything. Like don't make me think you might be a killer if you cant even get me off.

Okay that sounds bad. Like I might have my priorities a little screwed up. But hey.. I'm just saying follow through!

Anyways the kissing was bad, the sex was meh but everything else was nice. He had the accent and he didn't care that my room looks like a laundry bomb went off in it and he was quite happy to make up for his sexual shortcomings with a little manual labor, which I appreciated. And he was adventurous. Like I haven't ever had sex in my own NY apartment before and with Sam I had sex all over my apartment. I definitely made up for two years of sexless habitats.

You might be wondering where the title of this post comes from. Mordor and sex? Since when are the Lord of the Rings a sexual thing? (Well... when Legolas or Aragon are speaking or on screen it was pretty sexual for me but I have a thing for glorious manlocks and men who fight with swords on horseback.)
Okay.. enough of the side track.
In the middle of my (mediocre) bang I couldn't help but equate my irish lover to a hobbit. He was sweet but short and skinny and irish and seemed a little clueless about what he wanted. But he wasn't as cute as Merry or as funny as Pippin. He definitely wasn't the main event like Frodo so I guess he was like... Sam. Samwise Gamgee.
Sweet but annoying. Not the hottest. Not the ugliest either. Just... Sam.

Anyways, in the morning (and yes he was still here in the morning) we did a little more making out and he gave me some glorious back rubs* but then he like... wouldn't leave. Like at all. He was glued to my side. And I was like.. wow. You really are Samwise Gamgee. What next? Am I going to run away from you in a boat but have to go back because you almost drown trying to swim after me when you can't swim?? Are you going to start stalking me and claim Gandolf told you to watch over me? Am I going to start wanting to hang out with Gollum instead of you?

Like give a girl a break.  I need a little space here, stranger!

No man should ever overstay his welcome and I would have been perfectly happy if he'd left the night before. But he lives in the Shire, I mean, Queens. So that would have been a long trek from Hell's Kitchen so I was fine for him to spend the night. But then get up and leave in the morning. Or get up, have sex again and then leave.

DONT stay in my bed until 2:30pm when I literally have told you I need to go somewhere for an HOUR. Have some dignity man. Pick up those little hairy hobbit balls, that have clearly fallen off, and get out of my bed!

Anyways. Sam was annoying. He made me give him my number before he left so I might have to dodge some phone calls but I doubt he'll make a repeat appearance. Especially since he gave me stubble burn. His stubble was so hard and rough and he kept rubbing his face on mine like a deranged cat so I literally have a rash on my face from him.**

Thanks for the memories, Sam, but I think I'll be jumping into the fires of Mordor before I let you talk me into taking you home again. Oh and thanks for not turning out to be a killer.

Yours,
Kitty.


*which gain him mad points because I can forgive a lot for a good back rub. Back rubs are orgasms for your skin.
** However, skin orgasms are quickly counteracted by skin rashes and stubble burn. So I retake those mad points and give them back to myself. Because I'm awesome and clearly deserve them. Meow.

HOLY FUCK IT'S JUNE...

And it's fucking hot.

I don't know where the rest of you kids are but I'm in the big apple and it's mother fucking melting over here.

I can't believe it's June already. So much has happened and I havent had a single moment to sit down and compose it into one cohesive train of thought.

School is done. I graduated. No more homework or 8am lectures. Which is nice. But also sad.

Working on becoming a US citizen now.

Been getting into the usual drunken trouble.

Fleetweek just passed which was supposed to bring the glory of many a good lay but unfortunately Mama Nature has been after me ever since I accidentally murdered all of the lillies in my neighbors yard (I was 9) so I had an unwelcome guest in the form of my freaking period during the majority of Fleetweek. I still went out and winged for my girlies NP and shiv but it was sad not to hook a sailor.  On the last night I was finally finished surfing the red sea and I nabbed the hottest little seafarer at a dark bar. After beerpong and ass grabbing I was sure we were headed to my apartment (conveniently located a block from his ship) but thats about the time the excuses started pouring out of his mouth. He couldn't leave the bar, he only had 40 minutes left, the other marines might worry. Clearly his only solution was to propose bathroom sex.

Excuse me?

Bathroom sex?

No.

I am not a five buck fuck in the back of a strip club.

When he wouldn't let go of this idea I mentioned that we didn't have the proper equipment (read: condoms) but instead of leaving the bar to go to my house where I have a stockpile of 9 (don't judge me, I'm just prepared) he decided to go to Duane Reade and buy a pack to bring back for bathroom sex. Despite the fact that the time he would spend in line would take three times as long as walking to my house.

Anyways.... Mikey the sailor was hot but as soon as he left me at the bar to buy condoms I downed my drink and left.

Dear Mike, if you read this, you are a smoking hott catch of a man and I'm sure that your tragic flaw is that you are painfully aware of this fact. Despite you being hott and me being ridiculously in need for a good bang I do have standards and they include not fucking where people regularly piss. Yours, Kitty.

That pretty much sums up all of my Fleet week adventures. In the middle I hosted some crazy boys who thought that by causing my many grey hairs and making so much noise that my neighbors now cut their eyes at me when I walk by makes them bad ass. They played basketball inside my house, did "parkour" (i.e. they jumped on shit) in Times Square and fell asleep at a bar while going beer to beer with me and NP. According to the rumor mill I had sex with one of these over sized children but that's been put to rest. When someone accused me of denying the truth I pointed out that I would be very happy to get laid but I don't like taking credit for things I haven't done.

My mama raised me better than that.

Anyways... that catches you up on the last few weeks. Everything else is less interesting and frankly I'm too tired to keep typing.

Things to address in the next post:
- PBA coming to town next week... wants "casual stress relief sex"
- Ninja still playing with my heartstrings and I'm playing with the idea of telling him I still love him
- MugWug moved in with me. I don't like to share and I don't play well with others so this is quite a stressful bit of news.
I'd go on but it's late and I already set my alarm for 8am so I need to get in a catnap.

Love to you all.
xx KK