Purses and Butterflies

So. There is a new man in my life.

A new woman, that is: the sister of one of my really good friends. We met last night while my friend was visiting her here in NY. Since both her and I are fabulous and pretty damn good looking (I know, I toot my own horn way too much–you can toot it, too, if you really wanna ) , we hit it off right away. We already have plans for gay-clubbing (hyphenation allowed, darling), coffee, and other stereotypical fag+hag activities.

On a sidenote — I was never a fan of the term “faghag”. it sounds ugly and degrading. Before you shit a brick– no, I am not a feminist, and no, I’m not some womans’ rights activist [I am, however, pro-choice and pro-gay marriage, for the record. as if you even thought of thinking otherwise]. I just do not see the aesthetics in the term fag hag, and don’t see why any girl would willing to take on such an unpretty title. Therefore, I wont use it to refer to girls who only hang out with me because of my sexual orientation/fabulosity.

Off the sidenote — before I could even meet my newfound BFF4L x a million, I had to get into the place where her and my friends were. Disguised as a bar, it was really the UES chapter of Pike, fraught with pretty girls looking to be fucked by frat-tastic dudes looking for pretty girls to fuck. This place was not obvi not my scene. I was coming from the mets game (…I know, i lost a lot of gay points last night), and I met up with my friends at the front of the line (my one friend and his sister were already inside). I was looking very cute in my t-shirt and jeans, but by no means did i appear fratty. regardless, I was told by the people I went to the game with that I’d be able to get into the bar without a problem.

Wrong.

At the door, B3 (big, _____, bouncer) politely notified me that, in dis club, there is “no tshirts”. Bitch, please. He clearly did not know who the fuck I am, and his 7 ft 450 lb frame positioned between me and my much needed cock(tails) was definitely not any position I enjoyed. I needed a plan to get past The Rock, but my sobriety meant I couldnt carry out my master plan: climbing in through the windows when the Big Kahuna was pre-occupied with all the pre-britney’s whining to get let inside. Imagine [four octaves higher]: “its my birthhhhdayyy let me in. lettttt her innnnn. Lauren just go in. GO IN. fuckk this. we dont have to listennn. come onnnn. we’re going in side. ahhhh wahhhh eeeee wahh wayyy wannn wahhha blah blah etc etc.” God, I had never been so happy to like dick in my life.
Except those times when the dick was really fucking nice. Then i was really happy. Anywho, King Kong let Princesses Bitch and Moan in after ten minutes of ear drum torture.

I really need to brush up on my pre-gaming strategy, which I guess just means I either forgot everything I learned from welcome week or I’m getting old. I’m not getting old. Thankfully, though, despite my lack of inebriation, instead of having to put my monkey skills to the test my rebellious intelligence made a much needed appearance. It told me, “get your friend’s shirt.” So, thats what i did. BORING, I know, but im a huge pussy [as in i love breaking the rules, but i get scared. again, pre-gaming would have fixed all of this--most likely in a very interesting way]. So, through the open windows, I had my drunk-ass friend take off his collared shirt and pass it to me. Dont get too excited. he had an undershirt on and even if he did not you probably wouldnt be that excited, anyway. Sorry, dear. I went around the corner, put it on, probably looked a bit ridic (we are not the same size) and proceeded to wait back in line for 15 minutes. Again I realized just how happy I was to be NOT into girls. good lord.

Bossman let me in with a quick glance of the ID and a headnod, and then I got to meeting up with my friends. I gave the shirt back, and noticed a least five other dudes without collared shirts. they were built, rather sexy, surrounded by twat, and most probably large douchebags. I totally understood why they were allowed in sans collared shirt. [actually there's no sarcasm there.]

so, said friend’s sister and I fell immediately into pretend straight-love. It made me so . Eventually, when it was time to go, we walked passed el Diablo and he noticed that I had my t-shirt on. “I ‘member e’ryone. i don’ forget people, man. now don’t even try and come back here.” BITCH. PLEASE. clearly, people need to start knowing just who the fuck I am.

i know you’re just edging to know what happened

i know its hard, but just take your hands off your KEYBOARD for a second, darlings

[whoever finds the most sexual euphemisms in the above wins a prize ]

I just got back from working out, so the endorphines are flowing through my heads. im proud of myself…i bought a gym membership. it was expensive, so im forced to use it. maybe now i’ll be able to get some ass. a charming personality (trust me, i have one) only gets you so far in the new york scene. but im new here so im sure ill learn the hard way.

ok. count those, too, for a bigger prize.

apparently m.hal has a fan club. im jealous. so im writing this little follow up  instead of him. its ok because as the man in the relationship i get to make the decisions. except for when im being the woman, which is sometimes nice.

so as the legend of le boy and pretty pretty princess goes…

both of our protagonists had parted ways…and sure as a suicide bomber, they had to let it all out. The only way to do this, naturally, was to turn to their blogpowers in hopes of experiencing some sort of catharsis. jerking off just wasnt an option i guess

They they thought and they thought. Tangoing with their inner bitch, wrestling with their respective egos, and finally figuring, “hey. what the hell”

after each was able to read and react to the others digital diary, lo and behold, a miracle doth come! In the form of text messaging, the little gay messiah sparkled from the 248 to the… well 248. via the 212. but anyway. Sans awkwardness and suspense, txtmsging cnt’d. There was no anger or triteness or sarcasm. In fact, it was slightly annoying since i enjoyed a day of peace. :sigh:

And as with any good fairy tale (get it?) it wasnt long before apologies were proffered and the whole situation was thrown by the wayside. It was out of our heads like perez is out of the closet. I believe the cause for this amazing phenomenon–throwing by the wayside, not being out–is a rare characteristic, indeed found amongst very few who find themselves in similar scenarios. That phenomenon is called maturity. or, sometimes, good ol fashioned rationale. By golly, these people can deal with shit. i know right, i dont get it either. someone call the networks, we’ve got a show to pitch (please. call them.)
So, after prince charming kissed snow white, rapunzle spun her hair (idk how that one ended…) and ariel became a human (ok, bad decision number 1), Barbie’s happy, el Chico’s feliz, and Walt Disney isn’t turning in his grave.

The world hath continued to revolve and text messeges hath not ceased to flow-ith. It’s understandably a difficult time for those who thrive off other people’s difficult situations (if you could call the situation difficult), so if you’re in need of some consoling I’d recommend just posting a comment or something. and if you realllyy need something else to do, count all the sexual references in this post. or tell me how much more you love “the other’s” writing. either way, i hope you all are maybe a little more towards the edge…of your seat.

that was so lame.

the response

Well this one should certainly be interesting…and long. but thats how i like them. [joke it up.]

I’m not in the mood to write…I suppose I should have written when i was in the mood, this morning. But I had to go to work. C’est La Vie.

I *thought* maybe i could escape a bit of drama this summer…i mean, this is New York City. Okay, I’m naive, but still…can’t i lose myself here? (don’t take that sexually).
This is supposed to be a time for change, exploration, breaking barriers, busting boundaries, and doing everything i’ve been holding myself back from doing. (Take that sexually, if you want.)
Clearly, when they say new york has everything, that means everything, including the drama.

Well it’s partly my fault. There will always be drama†. its part of being human. people are people and they react to things. You can’t change people [i learned this the hard way. yeah, the hard way.] But you CAN change your reaction to them. [no, it's really not easy, i don't care what you say.]
Alas, I have stopped dealing with bullshit/unnecessary and/or misplaced bitching/stupid drama/etc.
at the expense of friendship? shouldn’t be. did i react a little to extreme? probably.

So let’s talk a bit of specifics, since the drama’s in the details. and im all about communication when it comes to problems. did we communicate? hardly. should we? uh huh.
and that logic right there, my friends, may be the extent of my maturity. but i’ll be damned if it doesn’t place me higher than most of the people in this world. I talk when i have problems. i don’t walk away. [no. that wasnt an allusion to anything.] there’s more i can say on that philosophy but it’s not necessary here.

***
†drama. what an annoying, ugly word. Overused, generalized, and so devoid of any significant meaning (unless you’re talking about a theatrical work, etc.) it bothers me to rely on it so much here. But it is what it is.
***

ok back on track.

I’m a heartbreaker. What can i say? I know this. But I’ve had my fragile little organ [okay, i know you're giggling at that] {i was referring to my heart} played with [i just cant help myself] in all the wrong ways too many times. I’ve been affected by life. It takes time to figure shit out, put things in their place, apply the lessons you’ve learned the right way, the best way–and no, thats not something you can do without time, without conscious effort, and without screwing up a few times.
I’m slower than most people…i can’t jump right in and be the person i should be, or that you want me to be. patience may be an issue here. but perspective is definitely the issue.
And like i said before, I’m immature. Well, I’m mature…but only to an extent. I think i told someone that. and im one of those double-standard holding people. Do what i say, not what i do. my advice is sound, my actions, not so much. but im working on it. who said at 21 you had to be god’s gift to human morality? I’m working on it though, i swear I am.

this all my sound very broad and general, and it is. but thats my brain for you. so im going to try to take this train towards the specifics, like i told you i would.

to begin, a math lesson:
friend A>>> friend B >> M.Hal
is not true. bad equalities. ti-84 says wha?

let’s try another (who ever thought id use what i hate to do what i love?)

[(alcohol + strong emotions + conclusion jumping + [jealousy/jealousy]) + 2immaturity + (me)] = this weekend with emphasis on saturday night.

Why’d it happen? Let’s just start from the beginning. I know, im all over the place here. but that’s my style, yo.

The first thing ill say is that i dont believe that people can help what they feel. you don’t have control over your emotions. sometimes you dont have control over how you react to those emotions. some people are stronger than others, and can change their reactions faster and easier. I’m pretttyyy far from those people. Time takes care of it though. time, and time again. its like you’re falling down the Graph of Life. Its kinda like gravity…if it goes up, it must come down, and if it bounces, itll never get as high as the first bounce (thats..inertia?). thank you joosh barclay physics. ew

anywho, as i digress more and more…
you can’t help what you feel. so you feel it and it just FUCKS with you. all day and all night. and that, for better or for worse, is how it is. maybe, when i know certain things, say, how certain people are feeling, i should not let my feelings go unspoken. again, no one likes to be in that situation, no one likes exercising the balls/maturity that those conversations require. I’ve been on both ends. and neither one is fun. its the part of the graph where you’re falling for awhile, hoping you stop before you hit the x-axis. bad math joke? that wasn’t even a joke, was it? sorry.

ok here’s a list of things. totally out of context, but totally in context.

1. someone should have said “no i dont want to go.” preferably BEFORE the 1 am subway ride to the wrong side of town. my directional-bad, though, i think.

1a. im going on record here, and this will come back to haunt me, i know, but really, it wasnt that bad. i’d go back. :gasp: it could be a good time. ur not looking for your “Person B”, and if you are, you’re too young. it’s a party, but not half as bad as some stuff that does go on other places. it can be fun.

2. the ditching was mutual. i dont do bullshit. you made bullshit about something (see 1a, 3, and 4).

3. jealous? please. with a lil’ logic, numero uno above would have been the one-stop-shop for all your problem solving needs. and maybe some pre-planning. but mostly, some communicative lackings needed to be not lacked.

4. two aforementioned characters (A and B) could have been removed from the equation (i think thats the jealousy/jealousy) with a simple “no.”
4a. one of the above persons, yes, i did really want to see. im sorry, but im allowed.
4b. the other–honey you couldnt be more wrong in your assumptions if you assumed them in swahili.

5. I’m sorry about your deeply unfortunate, scary, and awful encounter. I should have been a better friend there. yeah, that was way wrong of me. But that’s why you shouldnt volunteer at homeless shelters, though.
5a. last sentence = joke.

6. try and talk? if you’re referring to that night, well i was pissed too. if you’re talking about the morning, i believe it was you who initiated the silence. like i said, ive learned to ignore bullshit. ill perfect that quality soon enough/never.

7. yeah, ive got priorities. not that what you said we’re mine, necessarily, but still, mine are different than yours. wanna fight about it? kayz.

8. it takes two, darling, two to live, two to love, and two to fight, among other things. its not all what “I” did so much as its what “you” did, as well. and sometimes i even think I’m being weak when i concede, but i suppose maybe that’s just a little more maturity than i thought i had.

9. congratulations on the subterranean confidence boost. Although, personally, i think meeting people on the subway is gross. i prefer the internet </sarcasm>? hmmm.

so that’s that. now on to a bit of personal reflection.

its funny how i find myself on the opposite end of things. that was so not meant to be sexual.
relationship-wise: you’re the pursuer, and the pursuee is just, playing along. its a mind fuck, even if they tell you its not. even if they think its not. even if you think its not. some shit just don’t work out, and that is the universal tautology in the philosophy of life. Why? Because. Acceptance is key…fighting is key, too, but time will eventually teach you to gauge the two. drill that into your godforsaken brains, people.

now, turn the tables. you’re the pursued. what do you do with the pursuer if you yourself dont know your own feelings. whats right to do, whats wrong to do, lets take the easy way out and do nothing. so often thats the case…or just lie. lead the person on. those last two are often, and understandably, seen as one and the same. although they are different if you ask each party in the situation.

but because you’re dealing with two different people, you’re not going to often have one-and-the-same. you’re going to have similar, related, relative, cooperative, supportive, and lots of other good -ive’s, etc. so, the key is understanding yourself. you have to do that first and foremost. the general problem with this, though, is that most people, at whatever age, don’t really understand themselves. again, life is for living. you’re lucky if you figure more than half of it out before time’s up. if you’d like to get into a “whats the meaning(s) of life” discussion, id appreciate if you’d spare me since its relatively frivolous (we’re living, deal with it), but more than likely i’d entertain the idea of such a conversation.
or, maybe its just a maturity issue. or a character issue. or how good you are at pretending? honestly i have know idea. again, Just Because. we know nothing. that probably has a negative connotation but i dont mean it as such. boggle your mind for a bit, bolster the intelligence of the human race, you will be thanked greatly.

so what is this all about? understanding.and perspective. that with a side of typical bullshit. naiveté. maturation. living. dealing. being. working. god i feel like this is straight out of a Rent song or something.

anyway, the point is…what’s the point? C’est La Vie.

i dont know. after reading through that, it doesnt seem like a fitting end. maybe thats just because its not the end? of some things at least. of others, maybe.

–

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