Whirled World, Part II: Delphi

My Many Men, and The Persistent Adonis


June 17th was the day I'd been dreading since I got to London. While some of my classmates had anxious countdowns to get back to their loved ones in the States, I was in denial that I'd ever have to leave the UK.

I stayed up until the wee hours, doing the packing that I had put off doing (in favor of spending more time enjoying London... and Phil). As a result, I had about 45 minutes of quasi-sleep before I had to get up and start hurrying about, doing all the last minute "check out of the building" nonsense, and getting my bum (that's what they call them there) on a bus to London Gatwick.

Killer, All-The-Way, Two-Shots-Up, and I caught our EasyJet flight to Athens, and then promptly boarded a bus to Delphi (which was tricky in and of itself, as the buses in Delphi had frivolously gone on strike until 5pm that day. As it turns out, I really don't understand Greek transportation strikes).

On the way to Delphi, I took out my laptop. The night before, I'd downloaded an attachment from an e-mail that Phil had sent me. A script for a sci-fi/action movie he'd written. He had sent it to me with a note that I could read it on a beach and think of him. But I was bored on a bus (and Lady MacBook has been so fussy lately that I wouldn't dare risk bringing her near sand and/or water), so I read it then.

And it was seriously good.

I'm not supposed to say any more than that. But trust me. Good. Phil is very good at what he does. I kept having audible reactions as I read it (gasping, laughing, and the like) that made my traveling buddies look over to me with curiosity.

Look... I am not attracted to Phil because he's a writer. I'm not. I like Phil because he's awesome. But this whole writer thing? Huge bonus.

And as I noticed that, I realized that Phil's not the first writer I've dated... And then I started trying to make mental connections between Boyfriends #1 (Jake), #2 (Michael), #3 (Brian... although technically our agreed terminology was "metaphysically dating", but in retrospect I absolutely classify him as a boyfriend of time gone by), #4 (Daniel, The Filmmaker), and Phil. Here's all I've come up with:

- They are all writers in some capacity (3 of them did screenwriting; 4 have flirted with me in e-mail correspondence at the beginnings of the relationships; all 5 have had some sort of blog at some point while I was dating them)
- They're all 6-foot or taller. (Although really, I think that's just a coincidence. I've certainly been interested in -- and have quasi-dated -- men shorter than that. And I don't think I would have any problem dating someone shorter than I am... I'm 5'6", for the record.)
- They're all Caucasian. (Also probably a coincidence. My first kiss was with a Mexican guy... but then he stopped returning my phone calls and started dating a Mexican chick. They've now been married for 3 years, so I guess I can't really be all that upset.)
- They're all Christian. (Not a coincidence. 2 Catholic, 1 Protestant, 1 Non-Denominational, and 1 that I honestly can't remember right now.)
- They all like Sci-Fi.


Other potential patterns amongst them:
- 2 were in the Air Force
- 4 have brown hair
- 2 professional actors (and 2 others had acted for fun)
- 2 loved Lost (and 2 others enjoyed Lost, fell behind in watching episodes, and swore to me they were going to get caught up again)
- 2 were obsessed with Star Wars
- 2 really loved the Indiana Jones movies
- 2 liked the video game "Portal"
- 2 are only children
- 2 are eldest children
- 3 are Leos (well, 2.5... one was on the Leo/Virgo cusp)
- 2 are on the cusp (Leo/Virgo & Virgo/Libra... For the record, I'm on the Libra/Scorpio cusp. And supposedly people on the cusp are drawn to other people on the cusp. If you're curious, the 5th guy was a Cancer... and he's the one who's often the answer to "one of these things is not like the others" puzzle of this list)


And then I remembered something else... Music. They had all, in one form or another, given me music.

(Honestly, this is not an important part of the story, but I think it's amusing, so I'm going to elaborate.)

Boyfriend #1: About 2 months into dating him, he made me a mix CD. It reminded me a great deal of the song "Mix Tape" from Avenue Q in that I had no idea what he was trying to say with it. Some of the songs were clearly chosen because he thought that they lyrically applied to our relationship ("I Think We're Alone Now", "I've Got My Mind Set on You", "The Longest Time"). But some were about CHEATING... ("Tempted", "Roll to Me", "Runaround Sue",... I assume he chose the first two for their titles as opposed to by their actual lyrics). And some were just a big ball of mystery ("I, Don Quixote"... WTF?).

Boyfriend #2: He didn't make me a CD. No. Instead, he sent me lists of songs that I should download, or when he was on my computer he downloaded them for me. He once even acknowledged that he was just trying to submit me to his tastes, hoping they would rub off on me. He used a different verb, though, although I can't for the life of me remember what it was. I think it sounded like "submerge", but meant something more like "brainwash" or "indoctrinate". (Actually, this story is pretty telling of our entire relationship... Him trying to get me to convert to his way of life, and me letting him try while knowing deep down that it wasn't going to work.) His music included a lot of Wilco, The Decemberists, Elvis Costello, and Harry Nilsson. And then he told me how much he hated some of the music I liked at the time, such as a Basement Jaxx song I was obsessed with, the Butterfly Boucher jam that I was calling "my favorite song", and all of my Motion City Soundtrack.

(Side note: Boyfriend #2 also once refused to dance with me or kiss me while the song "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional was playing in the background, as he said it made him feel like he was on an episode of One Tree Hill. In contrast, I sent Phil that song and he freaking LOVES it. It's probably his favorite of all the songs I've sent him.)

Boyfriend #3: He made me CDs of songs that he thought I'd actually like. (Novel concept!) And he's the closest I think I've ever come to finding someone who had the same musical tastes as me. He introduced me to Kara DioGuardi and Platinum Weird (totally great). Strangely, he also had a thing for Disney stars. He sent me songs from the solo albums of Vanessa Hudgens and Ashley Tisdale. Yes, songs. As in plural. (*NOTE: I heart you, Brian. And the fact that you like that music? Totally endearing. Don't ever change.*)

Boyfriend #4: Before I took a 5.5 hour road-trip to see him, he mailed me a package containing 4 mixed CDs of music that he wanted to introduce me to. CD 1: Rock Opera. CD 2: Christian Rock. CD 3: Instrumental music from the soundtracks of movies and video games. CD 4: Electronica/Techno and a couple of random Rock songs. (Okay, go look at whatever random playlist is currently on top of this blog. Because I'm like 99% sure that no matter what playlist I've set it on now or in the future, you will look at it and wonder how he and I dated as long as we did. Seriously? Themes from Halo? Three songs by Naio Ssaion? I'm pretty musically eclectic, but I just couldn't listen to some of that.)

Phil: A week into knowing him, he made me a mix CD. He chose the songs lyrically, much in the way that Boyfriend #1 had attempted, but more successfully. Only 11 songs. Definitely NOT chosen for their titles ("Letters to God, pt. II", "Daniel", and "Death" are amongst them), but actually for what the lyrics mid-song are. And one ("Last Train Home") he explained is on the CD because he bought it earlier in the day on the day we met, so in his head it's forever linked to me. Some of them I love ("Enchanted", "Death", "Saturday Night", "Be Sensible"). I don't hate any of them, which I'm glad about (because seriously, I can't stand Elvis Costello, and I just can't go through that again).

(NOTE: If you are reading this post around the time I've written it, then some of the songs he sent me are on the playlist on the top of this page. "Daniel", "Last Train Home", "Apartment Story", "Enchanted", "Sweet Disposition", "Saturday Night" -- although a different version, "Death", "VCR", and "Hysteric".)

Yes. All this stuff was going through my head on the bus to Delphi. It was a long bus ride, and I'm a fast reader (and I'm generally a pretty quick thinker as well... it matches my fast-paced and erratic psycho-physical rhythm). Eventually I stopped thinking about my past relationships and started taking pictures out the window of the bus.

I didn't get a text from Phil all day, which was unusual to the point of being worrisome. But when I checked my e-mail he explained that he gets charged an extortionate amount to text abroad. Among other things, he wrote:

My life has an Angela-shaped hole in it right now. The last two nights have been so boring!

(My heart did a selfish little dance at that.)

Delphi was idyllic. Gorgeous. Like a little slice of heaven. The view of the mountains from the balcony of my 17-euro-per-person hotel room was unbelievable... and I don't even really LIKE mountains. I found a little piece of myself in Delphi that I didn't know was missing. We only spent a couple of days there, and it was hard to leave for Athens. I think we all knew that Athens wouldn't be as lovely as Delphi was.

I had the best tzaziki of my life there. I even got bold and ventured into the unfamiliar territory of lamb. I walked to where Apollo's oracle sat, and marveled at how far people traveled through the mountains to get to that spot. I bought super cool handmade ring made of sterling silver and rock crystal.

And I talked about Phil everywhere I went.

No seriously, everywhere. As in, my travel buddies apparently started having conversations behind my back about whether to try to get me to stop talking about Phil, and if so, how to do it most tactfully. (Two-Shots-Up mentioned on our last night in Delphi that I'd been talking about him a lot, so I made the conscious decision to stop talking about him altogether for a while. It was actually quite challenging, as he had become my favorite subject.)

One of my conversations about Phil was with an American woman named Sharaine who worked in a jewelry store (and who sold me an amethyst ring for a much better price than she should have). She told me the story of how she met a man when she was on a trip to Greece, how he pursued her, how she came to visit him... and how they've now been married for 8 years. She told me not to lose my head over this guy. But she also told me not to rule him out.

Later that night, I found myself club-hopping with Two-Shots-Up. And by "club-hopping", I mean, "We went to both clubs in Delphi." The entire town has two streets. The two clubs are on the same street, about a 2 minute walk apart.

As soon as we walked into a club, a man handed me a tequila shot. People (well, men) were buying us drinks left and right. The bartender kept giving us free shots that he called "Sex on the Beach", but which we don't think actually were. The first 4 tasted like straight grapefruit juice; if there was any alcohol in them, we could neither taste it nor feel it. His recipe changed around shot 5, and then it tasted like grapefruit juice mixed with black licorice (which I can only assume was ouzo). Weakest drinks I've ever had (and I'm the kind of person who can taste the alcohol in EVERYTHING).

The bartenders loved us. And one of the DJs actually cleared a space on his DJ station because he wanted me to dance on it. So, of course, I did. Also danced on a bar. (Which I used to do semi-professionally in Chicago as part of Tony n Tina's Wedding, so I'm quite good at dancing on counters of various widths.) It was quite fun. Most of the people in the bar were teenagers from Spain, so that was a little weird, but still entertaining.

We had so much mojo flowing between the two of us that boys were appearing out of the air. I had to fight men off with a (metaphorical) stick. And by metaphorical stick, I mean I used variations on the statement, "I have a boy back in England."

One of the (many) men to hit on me was in a black undershirt and looked like he'd oiled his muscles that day. He wanted me to dance on a chair for him. I did nothing to encourage him. I even escaped to the bathroom at one point. But nonetheless, he asked why I wouldn't kiss him. So I exaggerated a little on my "boy back in England" line, and instead gave him a standard answer that I'd use in the USA: "I have a boyfriend." That made him leave me alone, but it left me feeling uncomfortable. It's easier to use that line when I'm single and it's a complete lie. It's weird to use it when I'm in a weird label-less, commitment-less, relationship limbo.

At the second club, the (hot!) bartender gave me flirty winks between free drinks. He backed off when he saw his friend Sakis trying to hit on me. He looked like he'd walked out of a time-machine from the 1980s. I explained to Sakis that I had a boy back in Britain. He kept insisting (in mediocre English) that he just wanted someone to talk to. But not long after that he started mentioning how we looked like a good couple in the mirror, complimenting my lips, and asking why I wouldn't kiss him. He gave me his phone number before I left the bar, and told me to give me a call if I needed anything in Athens.

Around that time, I tried to get Two-Shots-Up to leave the bar so that I could attempt to Skype with Phil before he went to sleep. It took awhile to pull her away from the masses of men hitting on her. (Have I mentioned that she's super-hot, really friendly, wears sexy clothes, and is a wicked dancer? Total heart-breaker, that one). But when we left the bar, she wanted to hunt down some food.

We ended up at the local gyro joint. They'd shut down the gyro machine, but some guys were sitting inside the restaurant and beckoned us in. They had some pizza for themselves and offered us some. One of them was a young hot guy (and had apparently been dancing with us at one of the clubs... although I didn't remember him from that). The other was funny and seemed nice. They had the idea that we should go get ice cream and keep talking. On the way, Two-Shots-Up noticed how built Young&Hot was, and he encouraged us to touch his muscles. And then I tried not to drool.

After we got the ice cream (the guys paid), it became apparent pretty quickly that they were trying to divide and conquer... The hot guy wanted me, and the other guy wanted Two-Shots-Up. The guy was nice enough, and we started having a conversation... but then he tried to kiss me (out of nowhere), and I pulled away. Like all the others before him, we had the exchange of, "Why won't you kiss me?" and "Because I have a boyfriend." But Hottie's response was (AND I QUOTE), "That's okay. I have a girlfriend. Doesn't bother me." And then he tried to kiss me again.

Greek men are persistent.

Yes, he was charming. Yes, he was cute. Yes, he had a really good body (OMG! SO GOOD!). And yes, technically, the boyfriend thing was a lie and I had no strings attached to me. But I was NOT going to make out with someone else's boyfriend. Cheating is dumb. I'm whole-heartedly against it, and I will not play a role in it.

And you probably know my next thought without me having to type it...

Even if the Greek guy were single, I wouldn't have made out with him. Not just because random make outs aren't really my thing (because they're not), but because it didn't matter how hot he was; I didn't want him.

All I could think about was Phil.

I was actually sad to be eating ice cream under the stars by beautiful Grecian mountains with my own personal authentic Greek Adonis who thought I was sexy and wanted desperately to make out with me. Yes, sad. In that moment, I would've traded it to be in a hotel room, laying on an uncomfortable bed, whispering on Skype (because of paper-thin walls) with an over-worked, sleep-deprived Brit.

The Greek guy tried to flirt, bargain, and plead with me to make out with him, but I refused. He even tried to sneak-attack kiss me (which, by the way, is so not cool. Why do guys think that's going to get a positive response out of me?) and I literally put my hand over my mouth to block him. The more he tried, the less attractive he appeared to me. I got to our room, checked Skype for Phil (who wasn't on), and went to bed.

When I woke up, I had an email from Phil apologizing that he fell asleep before being able to Skype with me. And also saying that, at my recommendation, he had rented the first season of Battlestar Galactica and had begun watching it. (For the record, Boyfriend #3 introduced me to it, and Boyfriend #4 became interested in me after hearing I liked it. See? I told you. All my men like sci-fi.)

I wrote Phil about my adventure, and about fending off the unwanted advances of countless Greek men. I wrote that all I could think about was him. He seemed grateful at that. And he wrote, "Yep, you're much better off with a pale-skinned, bumbling, neurotic Brit. ;)"

And I knew he was right.

Besides, that Greek guy probably didn't even like Sci-Fi.



To be continued...



May you figure out your patterns, both good and bad.

And may you have such great options in your life that temptation becomes easy to walk away from.

~A~

Love from the Wild Child

Hello all.

I am in Paris this weekend.

London has been amazing. I am squeezing every last drop out of it, I promise.

(me in Conwy Castle in Wales)

I went to see Hair, which has transferred over here from Broadway, and it totally changed my perspective on life. Normally, I am a pretty conservative person socially, sexually, and morally (although not politically). But when I saw Hair, I wanted nothing more than to do drugs and get naked.

Later that night, I went out dancing. At one point, the people I was with were getting drinks when I headed down to the basement dance floor of a club. It was just me, the DJ, and a bunch of laser lights. I took over the dance floor in a way that you've never seen. For two songs, I was more free than I ever remember being. I mean, I'm always free when I dance, but not like that. It was like I'd entered another state of consciousness. I wasn't fully cognizant of what I was doing, but somehow I melted into the room and became one with it. (And for the record, I was sober.)

You know what? I am free because I'm HERE. When crazy things happen, I just wink and say, "London". It is the best explanation and excuse in the world.

(Hanging out with my classmates the night I saw Hair. A little drinking was involved.)

I am totally boy crazy. And a little girl crazy, too. This might be crazy, but I think I'm bisexual. I've just been lying dormant for a long time. No, I'm not joking.

I think I already mentioned my crushes on the French circus boys. Yeah, I miss them. They were fun. Mmmm...

(hanging out with my French circus friends)

(Me with Julien. I seriously wanted him and we had fun on the dance floor. But he's in a relationship on Facebook... and doesn't speak much English.)

(Me and Flo. Being around him is joy-inducing. Sadly, he also has a girlfriend.)

(Nael and me. He's the one who actually kissed me, and it was completely awkward. Oh well.)

(Guillaume was totally cute too -- and totally trying to flirt with me -- but my roommate/classmate was crushed on him, so I was a good girl and backed down. And yes, my love Julien is totally kissing my head in this picture. *sigh*)

I have occasional crushes on my classmates, but they're usually fleeting. More than anything else, it's just an appreciation of them as people more than an active sexual or romantic desire for them.

(me with my classmate D-Train, wearing my famous pink and purple hat)

During a production of Macbeth at The Globe Theatre, I totally connected with the actor playing Malcolm. He kept making eye contact with me. I swear to you, at one point he gestured toward me and winked at me during a scene (in which he was in the background and had no lines). Luke -- the nice, cute undergrad who was standing next to me -- noticed my Malcolm moments and commented on them. After the show, Luke was going to a talkback with the actors, so I gave him my business card (which has my name, headshot, and e-mail address on it), and he passed it along to Malcolm for me (who is apparently actually named James). Haven't heard from him yet, but that's most definitely the most forward move I've ever made towards a man. Huge deal for me. (Unfortunately, the phone number on my business card in my American phone... I hope he has the sense to facebook me or e-mail me... Because CLEARLY he's going to contact me.)

My classmate Wifey thinks that Luke has a thing for me. He keeps trying to get me to salsa dance with him, and just generally appears to go out of his way to talk with me and be around me. And I think another undergrad named Nic might have a thing for me as well (he's sweet, and he keeps offering to take my picture with various landmarks). And most likely an IT guy who works for the program named Deron who wanted me to watch the finale of LOST with him.

(Me with Deron)

I have a crush on a Blue Badge tour guide, whom is significantly older than my usual self-limited datable age range. (my Google-stalking suggests he's 39, but I'm guessing that information is old). Dude, intelligence is sexy. Also, he has a great sense of humor. And I'm pretty sure he was flirting with me in Westminster Abbey.

(Me and Blue Badge Seán)

People over here love me. I think it's my cute American dialect. I have been hit on by so many people (men and women) that I've lost track. And the guys here keep asking me if they can make out with me, to which I say no. I don't care how cute the guy is. I am not going to make out with any random nameless person. There has to be at least SOME backstory involved. Dancing with me for 3 minutes does not count.



See those two hot chicks? Yeah, they both wanted me. No, I'm not joking. Look at them, and then look at me. Clearly, they are the hotties in that picture. And believe me, it does not do them justice... They had tight mini-dresses on, and legs that went on for days. And they were really great dancers as well. They wanted me to go to another bar with them, but was celebrating a friend's birthday that night and felt like I couldn't ditch her... In retrospect, I regret the decision. They were HOT.

I've been asked on dates by men from at least 4 countries.

The first was Blake, an American who works for the program in an R.A. sort of way. He's actually younger than I am. He started flirting with me about an hour after I landed in this country.

We had a nice long talk one day, and he asked me out for coffee (which has yet to come to fruition). Then last weekend, I spent a good amount of time hanging out with him in Liverpool and Wales. We talked, danced, and flirted. He sent me text messages telling me that I should come hang out with him in various locations. But the last night we were in Wales, he ended up making out with some other chick on the dancefloor at a club (I don't know who she was... either a Welsh chick, or an undergrad). No big deal. I have other men around... But then this morning our trips aligned briefly (mine to Paris, and his to Amsterdam), and he was both flirting with me and actively following me around. And then he sent me a text message from Amsterdam saying that he wishes I were there... So we'll see.

(Blake and me on a hill in Llandudno, Wales)

Actually, at one point I was pretty sure that another guy with Blake's job was flirting with me as well. But he ended up going for my classmate/roommate instead of me (same classmate/roommate that went for circus-boy Guillaume, actually), so that shut the door on him.

A statuesque black man in a suit approached me in a club and wanted to get to know me better. He's a Brit named Nsikan who works for the United Nations. I gave him my e-mail address instead of my British phone number (because I hadn't memorized it yet), and he has been actively pursuing me through that medium. Unfortunately for him, I have a very busy schedule...

A Palestinian man named Wael wants me as well. He's a musician. And tomorrow, in London, he's performing in a show that Will.I.Am. and Cheryl Cole are also scheduled to appear at. I think he's in the opening act or something. He told me he could get me in backstage, but unfortunately, I'm in Paris.

(me and Wael in a Reggae club)

So far, I've only actually gone out with one of them. He's an Italian (who lives in London) named Alessandro, and he's delightful. As Captain Hammer would say, "Not my usual, but nice." He took me to a really terrible Bollywood dance-based show with a pathetic excuse for a plot. And then we went to a bar and got drinks that were called "I Can't Believe It's Not Watermelon". And then we got on a double-decker bus to Trafalgar Square, and I learned that my usual apprehension regarding public displays of affection does not apply in foreign countries. At all. The next day, he took me to the Camden Town market (which was great fun), and was just charming and lovely the whole way through. He really, really wants me. He wants to steal the purple and pink hat that I'm always wearing, and not give it back to me until I come visit him in Italy.

(Alessandro and me in Camden Town.)


But enough about boys.

I bought a great dress. I'm in love with it. I saw a girl wearing it around town, and I stopped her and asked her where she bought it. She told me it was at TopShop for 70 pounds (roughly $105). But when I got to TopShop, it was only 60 pounds (the tax is included) and I get an international student discount there, bringing the total to 54 pounds (roughly $81). Expensive, but it's the first major purchase I've made after being abroad for over 3 weeks. And it's totally worth it to me. Dude, I look hot in it.

Note: That photo makes me look deceptively skinny. I have actually gained weight since getting to London. I don't usually think of myself as being on a diet, but I watch what I eat (which is usually mostly made up of South Beach Diet bars and SmartOnes frozen meals), and I'm not doing that at all here. I have started eating ice cream, french fries, and mayonnaise here (all of which have been on my Forbidden list for awhile back in the USA).

I'm a wild woman.


Anyway. I thought you all deserved an update of my plot.


May you find your wild side.

~A~

The Engineer

(Me and Two-Shots-Up at karaoke, 11/23/08)

I haven't been posting on a regular basis. And I will continue that trend, just so you know. They keep us hopping, and my free-time is sporadic. Not to mention all the guilt I feel whenever I'm working on ANYTHING that isn't centered around making myself a better actor. Blogging seems like a distraction from my REAL purpose (my other blog seems more in the correct vein, hence why I'm better at keeping up with that).

The only truly consistent thing about my schedule down here is that I get Mondays off. So naturally, Sunday night is party night.

Y2K led the initial movement to hit karaoke up on a Sunday, and people followed. But now, it's become even more important to Two-Shots-Up and me than it is to him. We go every week. And we love it.

We dance like maniacs. Seriously. MANIACS. And we've done our "Viewpoints" movement homework on the dancefloor more than once. In fact, now it's part of what we do there, regardless of whether it's required for class. We think it's funny.

I usually sing a song or two, and I'll do a duet with Two-Shots-Up, because she's not confident enough to hit the mic on her own.

A couple of weeks ago, Two-Shots-Up and I were the only people from our group in attendance. We made fools of ourselves, and we met a lot of interesting people in the process. Like the guy who says he's a band with two former members of The Allman Brothers, and the former drummer from Bad Company. And a creepy drunk guy who asked for my number, and when I said I didn't give it out ("for safety reasons"), responded with, "What? I'm not dangerous!"

We also met a nice guy wearing a Bayside Tigers shirt (a clear sign that he was friend-able). He's an engineering student, and the drummer in a not-yet-named band (I remind you all that I have a thing for drummers). He seemed cool, and it was right around the time that 2SU and I were looking to find friends outside the program, so we both got his number and said our friends and his friends should hang out sometime.

He's been text messaging me ever since. But it was hard to think too far into that, as he was CALLING 2SU. One day she came into class and said they'd talked for an hour the night before.

And where did that take my mind?

Shockingly, not to the bad place. I never crossed into the land of, "He wants her and not me. Just another guy picking another girl over me. What's wrong with me?"

No. Perhaps my self-esteem level is improving, because where I HONESTLY went was, "Oooh! I hope they date, and then we can hang out with his friends! I bet he has cool friends, and then I'll know people outside the program! Wouldn't that be awesome?"

Last week, The Engineer was in L.A. (which happens to be the home of 2SU, giving them even more to talk about), so he missed karaoke.

We had several people from our group there. And at one point, Y2K tried to confess his feelings for me. OVER THE MICROPHONE. He started a song that had a "let's get together" vibe by saying, "Angela? Let's cut through the s***..." He walked off the stage platform and over to me on the dancefloor (cut to me, looking terrified), and then said, "And, um, you too, [Two-Shots-Up]." Crisis narrowly averted.

Later in the evening, 2SU and I sort of hinted that we were a couple in front of Y2K... Which we're not. And it seems cruel in retrospect. But in that moment, I felt like it had to be done. I didn't want to have to hurt him by turning him down. It seemed like a better choice to convince him not to take the risk.

As a side note, it's really too bad that neither 2SU nor I are interested in women. Because we would make such a great couple. And I'm pretty sure it'd be hot. We have a lot of chemistry (which is probably why we keep getting paired together in exercises with vaguely lesbian undertones in Acting class).

(Tangent: There's a part of me that always worries that being straight makes me sexist. Like I'm making a statement that men are better than women somehow... But then if I say that being straight is a sexist choice, then I'd have to say that being gay is as well... And since I don't believe that being gay is a choice, then I guess I have to admit that I was probably just born this way.)

Anyway.

A few days ago, I got a text from The Engineer:

"I really want to take you out sometime, if you have time! :)"

Wait, wait, wait... Is that... a date?

I thought he wanted 2SU. I was pretty certain of it, actually. Which made me unsure as to whether I should bring it up to her. On the one hand, I wanted to know if he was trying to hook both of us. On the other, I didn't want to rub her face in it if she wanted him...

I decided it would work itself out.

Last night we went back to karaoke. Me, 2SU, Y2K, and a handful of others. I sang "Whatta Man" by En Vogue & Salt n' Pepa. (note: the words are NOT on the right beat for that song... you have to ignore when they come on the screen). I sang "Killing Me Softly" by The Fugees (with a friend doing all the "one time/two times" bits). 2SU and I did "Love Is Strange" by Mickey & Sylvia (from Dirty Dancing).

The Engineer showed up. He bought me a cherry coke. And he made it quite clear that he wasn't chasing after 2SU. He wanted me.

After all of us did a rousing rendition of "The Y.M.C.A.", the bar closed and we were shoved out into the parking lot, where we hung around discussing constellations.

He asked if he could walk me to my car, which was all of about 20 feet away. I let him. He kissed me. I stopped him. I felt weird about it happening with Y2K right there. Not that I had been hiding the fact that I was flirting with The Engineer all night... But making out with him in front of Y2K in a parking lot just seemed wrong. Mean, in fact.

We discussed going out for coffee, but then admitted that neither of us drinks coffee. We said in unison that we normally get hot chocolate. But then he said that he's trying to cut carbs and sugar out of his diet, which is EXACTLY what my Movement Professor told me I should be doing. We laughed. And then he proposed taking me out for water sometime.

His schedule is as chaotic as mine (he has work, school, and band practice), so we haven't figured out a time that we can meet... And I'm going to see my family in Connecticut for Thanksgiving, which cuts out a chunk of time. But I know we'll be seeing each other again at some point. And I'm a little excited about it.


May you find someone to drink water with.

~A~

A Wild, Wild Party

I've had a post window open ever since I walked in the door a few hours ago, but I haven't been able to figure out how to write about everything that happened last night.

Last night was the karaoke going-away party I threw for myself. And it rocked. Or, at least, from what I remember... I may have had a lot to drink.

Luckily I had the foresight to bring a notebook with me last night and write down names of people who came so that I wouldn't forget in case I was insanely drunk... Which is good, because otherwise I wouldn't know that 35 people came to the bar to say goodbye to me during the course of the night (that's assuming I didn't forget anyone). Coworkers, Tony n' Tina's folk, NaNoWriMo buddies, bloggers, college friends, an ex-boyfriend (Ex #2, who is the one who inspired me to start this blog), a former roommate, and even a high school friend. It was pretty epic.

I felt so popular.

The funny thing is, the people who were my best friends in the city last spring were not in attendance at all. None of them. And you know what? It didn't matter. I've made so many new friends since then that I didn't even notice until I was reviewing my "who came" list just now. Weird.

Other notes on my list:

- My friends Jim and Mike both said "You're special" to me at the exact same moment. Clearly, that means it's true.

- My first drink was something the bartender made up called a "G-Spot". It tasted like it was made with pixie sticks. Loved it.

- My second drink was made by the other bartender. He said it was an alcoholic version of a kiddie cocktail. He called it a "Drew Barrymore" (ha! I get it!). Delicious.

- "Lisa bought me something awesome". (No idea what that was. In fact, no idea how many drinks I had total, or what any of them were.)

There were other notes in my book that are in other people's handwriting, and I have no idea who wrote them. But oh, am I glad they did.

- "Danced on the bar -- to "Baby Got Back" "

- "Spoke with EVERYONE in the bar. And liked it."

- "Danced with half the people in the bar (and John the bartender)"

- "performed the hell out of the Black Eyed Peas - great job!"

- "Ditto - Jim"

- "Despite what some people said, never ran out of energy"


I clearly have awesome friends.

I remember that I sang "Ignition" by R. Kelly (which was way lower than I thought it should be), "Where Is the Love?" by The Black Eyed Peas (pretty drunk at that point, so it was probably pretty funny), and "The Remedy" by Jason Mraz (a random girl at the bar actually took my camera from me and took a video of that one, so I have PROOF that it was a trainwreck).

(Shoot... Tried to upload video, but there's an error. Oh well.)

A few people gave me going away presents, which I wasn't expecting. Jenn gave me a great picture book that alphabetically lists interesting things about Chicago so that I won't forget it. My former boss gave me a Coach locket keychain that has a ladybug on it (a wink to the fact that she calls me "Jitterbug"). My friend Jim burned me a DVD of some anime that he likes, and also a CD of an unfinished song he's writing called "Farewell to an Angel" (awww!!! How adorable is he?).

What else do I remember... Let's see...

I know my former coworker sang "Sweet Home Alabama". Pete and Joy sang "Paradise by the Dashboard Light". Pete rapped something, and some other random guy grabbed a mic and rapped with him. My friend Mike sang "One Week". I danced on the bar multiple times. I think I danced on a chair, too. I found out that Ex #2 is still dating the girl he started dating directly after he dumped me (good for him!). I remember Dan Mega doing origami with bar flyers (he's rather adept at making hats, for the record).

That's pretty much all I can think of right now without anyone helping to jog my memory

Maybe the reason that I don't remember much of the night is because I'm so distracted by what happened after it...

I made out with someone in the bar. No, not the Sicilian bartender (he couldn't make it). A very hot guy whom I know, but not all that well. And I went home with him.

It was great, for the record. Unexpected. Shocking, in fact. And fun. I'm still processing everything that happened. (Don't jump too far in your assumptions; I still have a V-Card.)

Forgive me for not writing more about this one, but trust me when I say I have good reasons.

I'm not sure if I'll be seeing the bartender tonight or not. Haven't heard from him. I'll let you know if anything happens on that front.


May you find your wild side.

~A~


P.S. I'm currently the Featured Blogger on 20 Something Bloggers!!! HOLY CATS!!! Thank you to everyone who nominated me!

Closing the Bar

It's after 5:30 in the morning. The sky is light and the sun is beginning to rise in Chicago. I just walked into my apartment, am mildly intoxicated, and spent a second night with the bartender.

I have a matinee tomorrow. Tomorrow night is my going-away party. I haven't finished writing about the events of last weekend. So why the hell am I still blogging?

I don't know. But I'm fairly certain that I promised Nico that I'd drunk blog again. And I like keeping promises. So here goes.

I went to a coffee shop tonight to try to attend one last NaNoWriMo Write-In before moving. Sadly, I was the only one in attendance. And around 7:00pm, right as the barista handed me my drink (some sort of tea with ice and milk that the bartender recommended, and it was delicious), my phone rang.

It was Nick, the bartender. He said that he was working at a bar, and that it was boring (4pm to 4am on a Tuesday, and he was the only bartender there). He wanted me to come visit him. He also said that he will be in another state next week, and he had hoped to see me again before I moved.

I ostensibly freaked out and asked for advice (check my twitter page if you don't believe me).

************************************************

(See that line? That would be when I fell asleep. Whoops. FAIL! I'll continue where I left off.)

I hemmed and hawed over the decision of whether to go or not. If I went, knowing what I now knew, would that make me guilty in all of this? No, I would only feel weird if we made out or something, and he would be working until 4:00am... And there was no WAY I was going to stay until 4:00am... So it would just be like a goodbye between friends. I'd show up, he'd be working, I'd be there for thirty minutes, get bored, and leave. Completely G-rated. Harmless.

I went home and changed out of the short halter-dress that I'd been wearing all day. I wanted something less... sexy? Less easy access? Less "look at my body"? Something like that. I put on jeans and a brown shirt. Casual. Cute. Not trying too hard. (Men, take note: women spend a lot of time freaking out about what to wear. I'd say it's a universal truth.)

So I eventually went. I got there right around 10:00pm. Again, my intention was to stay for thirty minutes. The bar was mostly empty when I walked in. There were four people sitting at the counter, the shift manager, and Nick. Because it was a Tuesday, Nick was the only bartender there the whole night.

I wished I had brought my camera. He looked really hot behind the bar. But I had only brought what I could fit in the pockets of my jeans.

Nick introduced me to Tony, the shift manager, knowing that I'd need someone to talk to while he was working. Within the first fifteen minutes of talking to Tony, he complimented my eyes, said I smelled great, and called me beautiful.

(Ladies and gentlemen, I don't know how I got this much juice, but I'm overflowing with it right now. Angela got her groove back. *snap, snap*)

Nick started looking at a menu and said he was ordering himself some food at the bar. He asked if I was hungry. I said I was, but not to worry about getting me anything. After all, I was planning to leave soon. But after some discussion, he somehow changed my mind, and I put in an order. That, my friends, was unplanned decision #1.

At one point a great song started playing, and, as I am wont to do, I began dancing. A regular (an old man who wastes his pension check at the bar) started dancing with me. Somehow he managed to turn out his pockets and drop everything he was carrying in the process (which seemed to be a bunch of meaningless papers and scraps of cardboard... no idea why). He then insisted on buying me a drink.

At first, I said no, as Nick had been giving me free cherry cokes since I'd walked in the door (by the way, it is SO NICE to know a bartender... that man comped me on pretty much everything). But the old man insisted.

I'm pretty sure that's the first time a stranger has ever bought me anything in a bar. (Yeah, juice!) I mean, a random guy who worked at a clothing store gave me his employee discount once because he thought I was cute, but this is different somehow. A drink from a stranger? That's the kind of stuff that happens in movies. It was awesome.

So since old man was buying, I decided to switch to something alcoholic. That was unplanned decision #2. Because once I go into real drinks, I don't generally go back to my cherry cokes (no matter how fun it is attempting to tie the cherry stems into knots with my tongue...).

The food came, and it was actually pretty good. Nick insisted on paying for mine, which was unexpected, but nice.

At one point, Tony went out to smoke (yay for the Chicago indoor smoking ban! I can leave bars without smelling like an ashtray!), and Nick took his place right next to me (the bar was still empty, so it didn't matter). And I asked one of the questions that I'd been dying to ask...

Angela: So, exactly how Sicilian are you?
Nick: I don't understand the question.
Angela: You told me you were Sicilian.
Nick: I am. One hundred percent.
Angela: Yeah, right.
Nick: I'm serious!
Angela: So why did Lucas tell me you were Puerto Rican?
Nick: Lucas? Who is Lucas?
Angela: From the kitchen staff.
Nick: Oh God, no. That guy? He's lying to you.
Angela: He called you Boricua.
Nick: He likes to mess with me. Why would you believe him?
Angela: Well, you are fluent in Spanish...
Nick: It happens.

With that, he hopped back behind the bar to serve someone.

When Tony came back from his smoke, I decided to fact check (because clearly, I am Perry Mason).

Angela: Hey, what nationality is Nick?
Tony: He's Italian.
Angela: Seriously?
Tony: Yeah. Sicilian, I think. Why?
Angela: Someone told me he was Puerto Rican.
Tony: No, he's not. But he, um... His... His babies' mother. She is. Puerto Rican. I think.

Tony then looked at me awkwardly as though he'd let some sort of secret slide. I just nodded, not at all jarred by the mention of Nick having a baby mama. I didn't really feel the need to ask any more about her past that. Confirmation that she existed was enough for me.

Tony then started complimenting my "big brown eyes", and we had a whole discussion on astrology. Tony was the first person who has EVER in my ENTIRE LIFE been able to guess that I'm on the Libra/Scorpio cusp. Mind you, I did tell him I was on a cusp, but he nailed it on his first try. Something about me having sex appeal, but not being as overtly sexual as an Aries led him to think I was a Scorpio? I don't know. I generally don't believe in that stuff, but there are definitely some things about me that my sign hits perfectly.

Not long after that, a group of males came into the bar, and Nick was rushing around getting their drinks (many of which appeared to be water... who goes to a bar and orders water? Even I'M not that lame. I at least get a sodapop). I started playing with my cell phone, when one of them said, "So are you actually waiting for someone, or are you just faking it?" I responded by pointing at Nick, but the guy was persistent. He kept trying to start up a conversation with me. He smelled like some kind of smoke (pot? I'm not sure what pot smells like, but I think it may have been pot), and was acting high.

Nick gestured for me to move to the other end of the counter, so I did. Once there, he started in on a whole diatribe about how he thought the guy was being rude to me, and that he wanted to get me away from him. He then said something about not wanting to get in a fight with them because they were paying customers (well, some of them), but he felt like he needed to get me out of the situation. He then said it had nothing to do with jealousy, and that he would've been watching out for any girl around guys like that, even if he didn't know her.

(I don't know why I included that story, but I felt the need to.)

The night wore on. Nick kept putting drinks in front of me, and I kept drinking them. I kept insisting that I was about to go home. And I believed it every time I said it. But I just stayed...

Nick was too busy to talk at most points. I spent a decent amount of time watching Family Guy with the subtitles on and trying to guess what the lines were going to be before they were posted on the screen (note: I'm a HUGE dork). But strangely, I wasn't all that annoyed by it. Every so often, he'd look at me from across the bar, smile, and wink. I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but it made me feel a little giggly whenever he did it. Warm and fuzzy on the inside. That's part of the reason I didn't leave: I wanted to hang around to see if he'd wink at me again.

At one point, a chick said she recognized me from the bar where she works (which is coincidentally the site of my going-away party tonight, which I hope you can attend). She bought me a shot. I don't know what the hell Nick made me, but it had the consistency of a half-melted sno-cone and was delicious.

I started talking to a guy who was apparently a cop at one point. He bought me a shot. (Are you keeping track? That's THREE strangers who bought me drinks... I was on FIRE last night.) And then he and I were playing games on this video-poker machine that were NOT card games. Like "spot the differences between the pictures" and "find the hidden words" and whatnot. Considering the fact that I was not sober, I did pretty well.

The manager came into the bar as it was closing. He said he remembered me from last week, although I didn't remember him. He then told me I had the cutest nose he'd ever seen. I don't think my nose has ever been complimented before. I wasn't entirely sure how to handle that one...

Next thing I knew, the only people left in the bar were Nick, Tony, the manager, and I. I remember yelling across the counter, "Nick! Why the hell am I still here?"

Tony kept saying how cool of a girl I am. And that bartenders have all the luck. When he said, "It's sad that you're leaving so soon," I responded with, "I think the fact that I'm leaving is half my appeal." Nick turned to me and smiled flirtatiously.

It's weird to see a bar after it's closed and all the lights are on. It starts to look like any other workplace. More like a room than a bar. So insubstantial. It reminded me of when I worked at a customer service desk at a mall. Getting there before anyone else, or leaving after them, it gains a whole new atmosphere. Like a big empty fortress. And not really a fun or interesting place at all. Just a place where people work.

I stayed until they finished closing up (which was close to 4:45am, if I remember correctly).

Nick drove me home. We talked briefly. I gave him a head rub. Somehow we ended up in the backseat making out (something I've never actually done before... probably because I didn't have my first kiss until college), but my memory is fuzzy on the "why". He tried his darnedest to be invited up to my apartment (because of how awkward the car was), but I solidly refused. He asked if I wanted to go back to his apartment, but I said no because of the matinee (and because he said he had to get up at 7:30am anyway...). But he said he's going to try to rearrange his schedule on Thursday so we can see each other again.

Niiiiice. ;)

What? I'm 23. I'm leaving. I'm having fun. Don't judge me.


May you have reasons to keep hanging around.

~A~


P.S. I wanted to make the title a "Starry Night" pun using "Bar-y Night" instead, but it looked weird. And "Barry Night" made it look like I was dating someone named Barry... Yeah. Oh well.

The Naughty Bartender

I'm barely employed at the moment (for like 2 weeks... yay for a break!), so you'd think I'd be a more frequent blogger. But no. If anything, I feel lazier than normal without my scheduled hustle. I have several things to write about, but I'm going to break them up into several posts (which I intend to shoot out as soon as I finish them. Two posts in one day? It might happen... *gasp!*).

I'm glad so many of you enjoyed that last post of mine... I slept through my alarm clock and ended up at work an hour late (but it was my last day, so I don't think anyone cared). If I had gotten up at the normal time and not had to rush to work, I'm sure I would've taken it down before I left. Instead, I remembered that I had written it around 10:00am. I went to take it down, but saw how many amused comments there were and decided against it. Nights like that come few and far between in my world. It's not a bad thing to have a record of impulsive fun. When I'm dying in grad school, I'll probably look back on it fondly.

Later in the day, I got a facebook notification that the bartender had accepted my friend request from the night (morning?) before.



Yes, that photo is him. I feel weird about posting one of his face, as I didn't ask permission or anything (besides, there are only a handful of pictures of him on there, and most contain other people). But that's just so there's proof that I didn't make him up or anything.

I learned a lot of jarring information in a brief period of time. Let me walk you through it in the order that I saw things, along with italicized bit of inner-monologue...

1. Directly after accepting my friend request (we're talking within two minutes, according to his feed), his relationship status became "It's Complicated".

(Wait, what? What was it before that? Was it single before and now suddenly it's Complicated? That had better not be about me. But oh God, if it's NOT about me, then was he cheating on someone with me? Am I the "other woman"? It does NOT say "open relationship", so the odds that she would be okay with this are not good... Wait, maybe SHE broke up with HIM, because it doesn't say it's complicated WITH someone, and that's how facebook handles it when the other person initiates the break up... But what are the odds that it would happen within two minutes of becoming my friend, hours after making out with me?)

2. I notice his status says "is moving."

(Oh my God! He was totally living with his girlfriend, and then he probably came home at like 4:00am and he told her he made out with some random chick and she threw him out! OH MY GOD! I'M A HOMEWRECKER!)

3. I try to look at his past statuses to see if I can find proof that he was already in the process of moving, or to see if he had been in a relationship with someone before. I discover that he hadn't had any activity in over a week before I requested him as a friend.

(Wait, didn't we have a conversation last night about our most recent break-ups? We totally did! I don't remember most of it, but I know he was talking about an ex. Which means he just got out of a relationship. Or he was lying to me because I told him that whole story about how anti-cheating I am, and that's why I wouldn't get with the guys who had been hitting on me... because they all had girlfriends. So he lied to me and said he'd broken up with his girlfriend! HOLY CATS! I AM THE OTHER WOMAN! But is that my fault? I mean, if he lied to me, how could I have known? But I SHOULD have known! I'm just so gullible! No, not gullible... I'm TRUSTING! And he betrayed my trust. HOW DARE HE!)

4. I go back to his main page. Less than five minutes have passed since I first looked at it. His relationship status has now changed to "Single".

(Wait, maybe they broke up a while ago, and he just hadn't changed his relationship status. After all, he's not on Facebook very often. He hadn't been on at all for over a week... That's not so bad. No problem... I wonder if anyone wrote encouragement on his wall regarding a break up...)

5. Only 4 posts on his wall, total. One was from the night before from a female who thanked him for going out on Sunday (I was reading this on a Friday, for reference). The others were months before.

(No mention of a break up, but clearly he's been hanging out with women at bars... so he's probably single... Right?)

6. The wall post directly before that? From April 28th. It says, and I quote, "Your daughters are so adorable!".

(OH MY GOD! HE HAS DAUGHTERS! OH MY GOD! Daughters with an 's', meaning PLURAL! He probably just broke up with his baby mama! OH MY GOD, WHAT IF HE WAS MARRIED? Calm down, Angela. Maybe you misread it. Maybe it's an inside joke... Nope. Definitely not.)

7. Look at his photo albums for evidence of daughters. Find pictures with two ADORABLE little girls. He refers to them as "My girls". There is also a picture of a woman who looks like she could definitely be their mother.

(I'm a horrible person. I'm going to Hell. This man has two children and a baby mama. Wait, no... HE'S a horrible person! Unless he's single. The pictures have clearly been there for awhile... I CAN'T BELIEVE HE HAS KIDS AND DIDN'T MENTION THAT! But then, I know EXACTLY why he didn't mention that. It would be a stupid thing to bring up... Must show female coworker and ask for advice.)

8. Coworker asks to see picture of him. I find a couple and realize just how Hispanic he looks.

(Oh man, he's the biggest liar ever! He was going off about how he was 100% Sicilian, and how his grandmother was the youngest of 11 children and was the first one born in America. And he told me the story of how his best friend's mother spoke Spanglish, and that's how he started learning Spanish... But he totally looks Hispanic in these pictures! How did I not notice that last night? Oh, wait... I DID notice that last night! And I asked him if he was Mexican or Puerto Rican or something, and he said he was Sicilian, and I said I didn't believe him because he was fluent in Spanish... He is SUCH A LIAR! And I am SO GULLIBLE! Oh my God... What ELSE did he lie about?)

9. Check his birthdate. His birthday is in December, and he's 30. Just like he said.

(That doesn't prove anything. He's still not an honest person... He's... still... really hot. Damn.)

I do a lot more freaking out.

The coworker that I showed everything to started coming up with conspiracy theories based on her experiences with dating players in the past. She thinks he told me he was Sicilian so that if I talked to him around any other girls that he had hooked up with, our stories wouldn't match and we wouldn't realize we were talking about the same guy. She also said to stay away from him so that I don't have to deal with any baby mama drama.

(Have you seen the movie The 40 Year Old Virgin where Jay starts warning Andy that Trish's baby-daddy might be in prison and have boys on the outside who were going to hunt him down? It felt like that kind of conversation. Pretty funny, in retrospect.)

Then begins the second part of the drama...

At some point, I guess I sent a text to my TnT buddy Dan saying that I had experienced a PG-13 night. To be honest, I'm not really sure when (or why) I did that... Dan then tried to get me to tell him who the guy was, via text. I wouldn't. Dan texted, "then at least tell me who went to the bar," clearly assuming that it had been someone from TnT. I wrote back that I never made it out to the bar. I guess I thought that'd be the end of the story.

So imagine my surprise when I walked into the dressing room half an hour early, and one of the actresses said, "so I heard you made out with Nick last night." Um, WHAT? Color me shocked.

As it turned out... Dan had arrived at the theatre early. He asked the handful of people who were there if they knew where I'd gone the night before after the show. Carol, the costume mistress, told him that she thought I had gone to the bar. The others said that no, I hadn't. Carol said, "well I left her with Nick and the kitchen staff... And Nick said he'd take her to the bar." Dan then proceeded to tell them what he'd heard from me, and the rumor was born.

And my freak out reaction to said rumor? Well, that confirmed it.

Fantastic. So now? I'm pretty sure that everyone in TnT knows.

One of the girls actually told me how jealous she was, saying that she thought he was hot. She then said that the reason she hadn't gone after him was because she thought he was gay, and was glad to know that he's not.

Happy to help?

I think that at least one of the guys in the cast is actually bitter about the whole thing... Jealous, I think. Oh well. Sorry buddy. It's not like I planned it.

I ended up talking to the kitchen staff before the show, and they confirmed that, to their knowledge, the bartender is not actually 100% Sicilian. One said, "I think he's half-Italian, half-Boricua" (Puerto Rican). When I asked if they knew why he had tried to convince me of his Sicilian background, he said, "I think he wanted to impress you."

The funny thing is, it wouldn't have mattered if he'd told the truth. I had a massive crush on a Puerto Rican named Pedro once. (Mmmm... Pedro...) I would've been equally excited (impressed?) by that background. Hell, my first kiss was with a Mexican guy. I have a thing for Hispanics. He really gained nothing with that lie (except maybe a harder to follow trail for his baby mama's private investigators).

Remember when I wrote my theory of the fine lines of personality? This guy is TOTALLY the Charming/Con Artist... with a dash of Sexy/Evil.


May you know what you're getting into,

~A~

Hot Stuff

Note: the following post may contain significant spelling and grammatical errors, as I am currently heavily under the intoxication of alcohol while composing it. Then again, it's me... and I'm not the sort of person who would normally allow that sort of thing, so I wouldn't be surprised if, even while intoxicated, the errors aren't numerous. Nonetheless, I felt the need to forewarn you.

Secondary note: Yes, I'm a pretentious b**** when drunk.

Tertiary note: Not always. Just when I'm drunk-blogging, apparently.

Wish me luck!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am drunk.

I just had an extraordinarily hot encounter with a 30-year-old Sicilian bartender.

I have to be at work in less than (fewer than?) 5.5 hours (probably more like 4.5 by the time I finish writing all of this with as few typos as humanly possible).

But despite this (and ignoring the fact that I'm pretty sure I blogged yesterday-ish), I'm going to tell you some strange semblance of the story.

Drunk-blogging, here I come!

His name is Nick. He used to be a bartender for Tony n' Tina's, back when they needed two full-time bartenders (we're talking like 5-6 years ago -- the show is not running out of massive demand at this point, but rather because it's a "family business", from my understanding). Nick also used to be a drummer in the band, back when there was a TnT band (they have since replaced the band with a DJ after realizing how much money it would save them to only pay one person instead of four).

For the record: I have a thing for drummers.

(But honestly, even if he weren't a drummer, I totally would've gone for this guy.)

I first met him several weeks ago when he was filling in for our usual bartender. I saw him a bit more during Frankie Avalon week (when we actually needed two bartenders). And then I saw him tonight, as he filled in for our usual bartender (not sure why, but I don't really care at this point... do you?).

After the show tonight, instead of going out to the bar with the rest of the cast, I made the unusual choice to wait with the costumer as she did some repairs and did a couple loads of laundry. The new costumer, Carol, has only been around for a few weeks, but she and I are becoming fast friends (due in no small part to our mutual affection for Neil Patrick Harris in "Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog"). I decided to keep her company.

When we were finally leaving the theatre, we ran into replacement-bartender-Nick and the kitchen staff (three Hispanic men, who are hilarious and cook darn fine Italian food) at the bar of the reception hall, drinking. Nick invited Costume-Chick Carol and I to stay. We both refused (Costume-Chick Carol had to drive home to Indiana, and I had promised to make an appearance at the bar), but Nick eventually convinced me to stay, and gave me a bottle of water. Then I let him talk me into a cherry coke. And after that, a Corona. I'm not entirely sure how all of that transpired at this point. I do remember joking with the Hispanic men (who all speak Spanish far better than they speak English -- Nick speaks Spanish relatively fluently despite not being Hispanic, which he claims is due to his bar-tending experiences).

I usually get a ride home from TnT person at the bar, so I was planning to head over. Nick said not to worry, and that he would give me a ride home. But somehow we didn't make it to my house. I had already told him that tomorrow (today?) would be my last day of work, and he convinced me to go out to a bar (claiming that if it were my last day of work, no one would care if I showed up hung over). And, as with most intoxicated logic, it made perfect sense at the time.

Nick tends bar at some random place uptown that I'd never heard of before. We ended up there. He bought me a lot of drinks. I danced to "Pour Some Sugar on Me" with one of the regulars... Then he tried to kiss me in the bar. I remember resisting at first and saying, "What are you doing?" Past that, I think I just went with it.

Actually, now that I think about it, I think he may have tried to kiss me before that. I remember at one point him leaning in close to me... I put my ear toward him, but he didn't say anything. And then I said, "what," and he said, "I wasn't trying to say anything," and me saying, "then why did you lean into me," and him saying, "you really don't get it, do you?"

Yes, I really am THAT oblivious when guys are flirting with me.

Not long after that, he kissed me. While sitting at a bar. I don't think anyone has ever done that before. I don't think anyone has ever kissed me while sitting at a bar counter before tonight. I'm also pretty sure that I haven't ever kissed them back while sitting at a bar before tonight. So it's safe to assume that I hadn't ever had a second-base makeout session at a bar before tonight.

Holy cats, it was hot.

And far from the cries of "get a room," it seemed more that we were being applauded. Or, rather, I think he was. Probably at least in part because he usually works at said bar and people knew him. And in part because they thought I was hot.

Not to say that I AM hot. I'm not vain enough to proclaim such a statement self-referentially. I'm just saying it because I heard a drunk regular say it.

Oh, boy. Just saw clock, and it's 3:36am. No matter. I'm going to keep going. Because I've come this far, right?

As soon as he kissed me, I pulled away and said, "What was that for?"

He responded, "It's for me wanting you since I saw you play Hot Cocoa during Frankie Week."

No, I'm not kidding. Those were his exact words. And despite the fact that I played sultry, flirty, horny Farina tonight, for some reason he (and most other males in the cast, inexplicably) is more attracted to Hot Cocoa. Go figure.

Did I mention that he kept buying me drinks? Because he did. Strawberry Stoli mixed with cranberry lemonade. I'd never had it before, but boy, he nailed me. It was the perfect sort of drink for me. Didn't taste like alcohol or oranges, but certainly contained alcohol.

Generally, alcohol does not lower my inhibitions. But I thought, what the heck? He's single, which is more than I can say of most of the men who've hit on me in the last month. He's HOT. He's straight. And he's exactly what I've been looking for...

You know, I've actually never had a random make out session before. I've never kissed a guy that there wasn't a back-story with (if not someone I was dating). This is completely out of character for me. And I sort of loved it.

I won't go into details, but let's just say that being kissed in a bar was not the only first for me tonight. There were a handful of firsts. For example, I've never been fearful of being arrested before. But that definitely happened tonight. To say anything more would be TMI (hey, look at me! Self-censoring while drunk! Impressive, is it not?).

We ended up parked in front of my apartment building for a long period of time. I ended up breaking things off out of necessity (i.e. I really had to pee), and he played the "Goodbye Game" (i.e. doing anything you can think of to make the other person forget that they were about to go) with me for a long, long time. I told him that he was not allowed up to my apartment (for multiple reasons... 1. I have a twin bed. 2. My floor is covered in boxes. 3. I have work at 8:30 today. P.S. Why am I still typing?).

At the end of the night, as he begged me not to leave, we exchanged numbers. I may or may not see him again. He said that next time, he hopes I'll end up over at his place.

By the way, he knows about my sexual history already. Or, rather, my lack thereof.

Right. Probably shouldn't be writing this on the internet (as this is something that I've struggled with not-saying for months), but the hell with it: I have never had sex.

Had you guessed that already? Does it surprise you? Well, in any case, it's the truth. Perhaps I'll elaborate at some point. Perhaps I won't. As you have no doubt noticed, I am a complicated and confusing person even without that aspect of my life dissected, and it is only a minute fragment of the being that I am. So I think it best not to discuss it at length online (for a multitude of reasons, actually).

Anyway.

Have I mentioned that it was hot? Because it was. And I wouldn't mind revisiting that.

I can count the number of people I've kissed on my fingers. And that INCLUDES the people I've kissed on stage. In fact, a few weeks ago I was concerned that the people I've kissed ON stage might overtake the number that I've kissed OFF stage. But lucky, I just threw another mark in the OFF column.

Have I mentioned that he's HOT? Because seriously, he is. I don't think I can name a hotter person that I've ever made out with. Wowza. HOT. Wish I had a picture to include, because all the ladies that read my blog would be hella jealous. Yes, I just used the word "hella", proving how drunk I am (as I normally contend that it is NOT a word).

May you feel sexy out of the blue.

~A~


P.S. I love Donna Summer. Hence the post title. Don't hate.

The Woodwork

On Friday nights, before the performance of TnT, there is a rehearsal. The director attends and runs the choreographed and scripted parts of the show over and over again, working out any kinks.

If an actor has stopped connecting with the material and gone on auto-pilot, he'll make him repeat the monologue 15 times in a row, giving him direction until it becomes believable again. It's painful to watch, and I'm sure it's embarrassing for the actor, but it's the right thing to do. Otherwise, doing a long-running show can become mechanical and lose its humanity.

Apparently, the director had to ask the stage manager to remind him what my name was at the rehearsal, but he knew who I was. And, for the duration of the rehearsal, he gave me a character to watch: Sister Terry.

That's right, I said Sister. I watched the nun.

Not necessarily the role I was dying for, but I was so happy to have a character to watch that I didn't care much.

Sister Terry is Tina's cousin. I can't tell you much about the character without ruining things for you if you should come see the show. Let's just say that there's a bit of "nun gone (mildly) wild" during the reception. So that'll be fun.

Of course, watching a character in rehearsal is NOT the same as being assigned a character. I haven't gotten a character book yet, and being switched to another character to watch is entirely possible. We'll see what happens.

I'm just glad the director knows my name now.

As a side note, an EXTREMELY ATTRACTIVE GUY started flirting with me as "Carmella" during TnT last night. The kind of guy that I could never, ever get in real life. *sigh* And yes, I know he was flirting with Carmella and not with me, and only because it was a character in a show and was entertaining for him... But still. Made me feel AWESOME.

But anyway...

I've been extremely social the last couple of weeks. Trying to distract myself from over-thinking things, perhaps. Going out so that I don't stay in. Because when I stay in, I get stuck inside my head. And that's not a fun place to be locked.

When I say I've been social lately, I mean that I've been hanging around a lot of random guys. I don't really have any core group of friends in Chicago that I hang out with regularly. I've spent so much time in my own little world between blogging, novel-ing, acting, grad-school-prepping, metaphysically dating... I never really noticed that I don't have friends. It didn't bother me, I suppose.

Frankly, the vast majority of the phone calls I've made since August have been to a certain cell phone in Nebraska. And that was enough for me.

Now that things are different, I guess I've needed people more. And I don't know where they've all been hiding, but they're here now that I need them. I don't know how many of them are friends, but they're close enough.

People have been really supportive and wanting to buy me drinks and go out for lunch and things. And most of those people happen to be male.

I've always been better at making friends with males than females. Maybe it's because I have brothers. Maybe it's just because I'm not a particularly feminine girl. Not to say I have no female friends. I do have Megan, after all. And Anna. But I rarely talk to either of them these days.

Last week, I wondered when the men would come out of the woodwork...

You might think to yourself, "Didn't she just say males keep buying her drinks and asking her to go out to meals?"

And you'd be right. But I didn't think that they were the Woodwork Guys. They just happened to be guys. Who happened to start hanging out with me lately. After I happened to become single. Coincidence.

But then I remembered something about myself...

I am generally dense when it comes to guys flirting with me and/or being interested in me.

No, seriously. A guy would be so much better off taping a sign to his chest that said, "I'm flirting with you" than attempting to actually flirt. I just completely miss it.

Adding to my inability to pick up on things is the fact that all the males I know are presently under the label "As Good As Gay" (which I discussed the rules for in Flipping the Switch). Why? Because regardless of what the quasi-relationship I've been in for the last several months was, I treated it like a relationship. And therefore I had relationship blinders on. When I'm involved with someone, EVERY OTHER MALE becomes "As Good As Gay". That's just how I operate. Due to the fact that these guys have not successfully "flipped the switch" yet, I'm oblivious to whatever advances they may be making.

Unless a NEW male were to approach me (one who had not already been lumped under the mental label), I'd miss it.

So I started thinking about things that had happened, and this weekend I started paying more attention to things as they were happening. And I think I'm picking up some flirtation and interest (it's possible I'm reading too much into things, as it is me... but when it comes to this topic, I doubt it) coming from a few directions... I think that the Woodwork Guys are there. I just didn't notice them.

But there's a problem: some of these guys were AGAG for other reasons. These males have certain qualities that ring as red flags on my AGAG radar. Things like:

- He has a girlfriend
- We work together
- He lives far away

No good. No good at all.

I think one of them may have asked me out. I think that was his intention, although at the time I thought it was more of a, "We should hang out sometime, buddy" kind of thing. Yes, I'm blind. But he's AGAG...

And even if these problems didn't exist, I don't know that I'd want to be pursuing anything now anyway. I'm leaving. And many of the people I interact with on a regular basis have no idea that I'm leaving (the TnT people... not telling them until middle of July, I think).

Actually...

To be completely and totally honest...

The moving thing is just an excuse.

The truth is, I don't think I want to date someone new.

I'm not ready.

I'm not mad anymore.
I'm not even sad anymore.
But I'm still not healed.

I'd just be making mental comparisons the whole time and realizing that the new guy didn't measure up. That he wasn't what I wanted. Because I know what it is that I want. And it isn't some random new guy. It's something that I can't have.

I'm still talking myself out of wanting it.

Makes me wonder why that one guy asked me out. Doesn't he know that I'm still in recovery mode? That I'm still working through some issues in my head? That my heart isn't healed, and I don't know when it will be? Just seems like logic to me.

Still, I guess it's nice that these Woodwork Guys exist. It makes me feel like maybe I am still desirable, even though I don't always feel that way.


May you notice when people start coming out of the woodwork,

~A~


P.S. ♫ And from the first to the last time, the signs said 'Stop', but we went on whole-hearted. It ended bad, but I love what we started. ♫ ~ Fiona Apple, "Parting Gift"

Getting Through It

I've been sending myself emails all week of things that I want to write, but I'm not really sure how to write. Instead of trying to weave it together to create something cohesive and interesting, I'm just going to put several of my random thoughts here.

- Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. I can't tell you how much your support has helped me get through the past week. I guess break ups are a pretty universal subject. Previously, the most comments I'd gotten on a blog post was 24. And at last count, that post was at 40. You guys are great. I love my friends/readers/dotcomrades!

- I decided not to cry anymore. I'm going to be okay.

- When I push you, it's not because I want you to fall; it's because I want you to push back.
(This one was almost the subject of a post on its own.)

- Everything happens for a reason. Like losing my cell phone in Omaha, for example. When I was at the airport, I looked at all the old text messages I'd saved from Brian. I tried to convince myself to delete them, but I couldn't. Now I don't have to. I don't have to delete the special Platinum Weird ring-tone I had for him, having Kara DioGuardi reminding me to consider "taking chances" whenever he calls (if he ever calls again). I don't have to take him off speed-dial (which I wouldn't have done). Everything was done for me. It's probably all for the best.

- I have entered into the sort of facebook relationship I thought I'd never be in. The kind that used to make me roll my eyes. I am now "in an open relationship" with a girl. My non-sexual soulmate Megan, to be precise. And it's far more comforting than I had anticipated.

- I started reading He's Just Not That into You on the L, and it's actually really helping. Very comforting. Makes me think that Brian was never as interested in me as he claimed to be or thought he was. Makes it seem like I've done nothing wrong, and that someone out there WILL be that into me someday. Rather than being depressing, it actually gives me hope.

- It's really hard to argue with someone who won't argue back. And sometimes, you just really need to argue.

- I ordered two "somethings" from The Something Store a couple of weeks ago. One for me, and one for Brian. He texted me yesterday that he got cuff-links. I got a USB hub, which is about as useful to me as cuff-links would have been. But the "what could it be?" anticipation was worth the money.

- My iTunes keeps playing "Don't Cry out Loud" by Melissa Manchester. Over and over again. What are you trying to tell me, iTunes?

- Took my computer in to The Apple Store because the sound stopped working right while I was in Nebraska. They say I need a new logic board, and that they'd have to confiscate my computer for 5 days. I'm not sure I could survive without my computer for 5 days. My MacBook is like an extension of my body. It even comes to work with me most days, in case I want to work on my novel at lunch. I wouldn't be able to blog, work on my novel, surf the net, watch DVDs, watch television... for 5 whole days? I would surely die. So I'm keeping computer at the moment and hoping that the logic board doesn't just up and self-destruct on me. Because I think I'd have an emotional breakdown if it did. And I've had way too many of those lately.

- After my last two break ups, men started coming out of the woodwork. Ex #2 showed up a couple of days after Ex #1. Brian asked me out the night Ex #2 broke up with me. (Wait, does Brian count as Ex #3?) No men have come out of the woodwork yet this time. Part of me wishes they would, because having juice always gives my self-esteem a temporary boost. And another part of me just wants to swear off men entirely.

- I just realized I probably won't have any romantic male presence in my life until, like, 2011. No point in getting into a relationship in Chicago when I'm leaving so soon (and clearly long distance doesn't work in my world). And once I get to grad school, I know I won't date anyone. Dating a classmate is a horrible idea in a program that small, and I have no desire to date a townie. I guess I'll just remain locked in my celibacy cellar for the next few years.

- Brian did read my last post, despite my warning. And he's upset. I sent him a text to tell him that I'm okay. He wrote back that after reading my blog, he's not. *sigh* I didn't mean to hurt him. I care about him too much to want to hurt him. And I hate that he's upset.

- On the other hand, why is HE upset? Isn't that my job? And why am I suddenly being so mature and cool with everything?

- How can you transition into being friends with someone you were in a non-relationship with? Where is the line between long-distance metaphysical relationship and long-distance friendship? Is it just that during phone calls you don't say what you're wearing and stop mentioning how much you want to hold the other person? If he thought we were never more than friends anyway, this transition shouldn't be too hard, right? So why doesn't he want to talk to me?



And on to our regularly scheduled story-time...

I've been relatively useless at work, but my boss is being really cool about it. I think she understands that I'm not quite in my right mind at the moment. I'll just have to work doubly hard next week to make up for my sluggishness this week.

I went out after work with a bunch of coworkers on Friday, which is something we haven't done since January 2007. And they convinced me to drink. A lot. People just kept handing me beers, and I kept chugging them. I remember beer #7, and I know I kept going after that, but I can't remember how many I ended up having. I remember wanting to text Brian, and them taking away my phone more than once. After that event, I called my friend Ian, thinking it was probably a better idea to call him than Brian. I'm sure most of what I said was completely incoherent... oh well. Ian dealt with it.

For the record, before Friday, I don't think I'd had any alcohol at all since... that night when I put on the blonde wig, drank Midori out of a plastic bowl, and made people music videos on Facebook. I think that was... middle of January. Yeah.

Last night, I had a performance of TnT. I didn't feel up to playing the "Carmella" role that I have created and loved (high energy, low intelligence, cheerful, loves to dance, obsessed with reality television and thinks global warming is a good idea). And as a waiter, I'm pretty free to switch up my character if I wish. So I started a new character based off of some playful conversations I had with Brian using a sort of "black-cent" (her name is "Hot Cocoa", she's from Indiana but thinks she's ghetto, weddings depress her because they remind her that she's single). One of the other Black Staff (Dan, who played Vito) worked out a story line with me (Vito and Hot Cocoa used to date, but he was flirting with too many other women, so she left him) that made the evening particularly amusing.

After the show, I hit up the usual bar with the cast. My friend Dave came out and joined us. I met Dave doing a show a year ago, and he was vitally instrumental to me in getting through my break up with Ex #1. And all the times I've ever spent with him are marked by a common theme: Dave giving me alcohol and getting me very, very drunk. Dave, Dan, Lauren (the SM), and I stuck together for most of the night, and headed to another bar at one point. I don't remember too much, aside from Lauren confiscating my phone from me for the majority of the excursion. Probably for the best. I wish I could remember how much I drank... I'm pretty sure that at least 4 vodka cranberries and a couple of random shots were included.

I had a text conversation with Ex #1 last night while we were both drunk. It's actually the most I've felt like his friend since we broke up. For some reason I told him about Brian via text... because I had been drinking and didn't realize that it probably wasn't a great thing to bring up... But he was cool about it. Said he hadn't heard, and that he was sorry things didn't work out. How weird is it that things ending with Brian may have brought me closer to Ex #1? Didn't see that coming.

I'm going out to lunch in a minute with my friend Daniel. I'm going out later tonight with Cleric. I'm pretty sure I'm meeting up with someone else tomorrow night, but at the moment I'm not even sure who it is (sorry!!! If it's you, please remind me!!! Drinking is frying my memory). And I'm meeting my friend Beka on Tuesday...

Probably best to keep busy. It's a good distraction.

I'm sure there are like 30 more things I want to say, but this is probably good for now.


May you find ways to get through the bad days.

~A~


P.S. Jenn made a lovely little diagram to illustrate how she was dealing with her break up. I made one too. It's not funny like hers. But I made one. I can't make it bigger than this for some reason, but if you click on it you'll see a large version.