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August 2009 I think was my friend Coco's birthday. The Jeanie Johnston pub in JP had karaoke and I was there with Abby and co. Coco was dating this guy named Andy, who was a punker, a nice guy. One of his friends sitting with him was this tall skinny guy with glasses and boat shoes. His legs were crossed and he did something kind of effeminate with his hands so I took him for gay. But he was cute and kept looking at me. Who could resist manic panic red hair after, all. Before I left he tried to get me to do a duet. I don't remember how we got together after that but we had a date at James' Gate and he told me all about how he currently was in a death metal band and in the past had done the whole hippie co-op thing. He'd also roadied for Against Me a long, long time ago, shit like that. Now he had a 9-5 job for blue collar job rights, wore a tie, had a dog, etc.oh look, i found a picture He actually owned a house. We watched family guy and had pizza, beer, and the only time I've ever done karaoke -"Talk dirty to me" by Poison. He went to Chicago on business while we were seeing each other and mentioned beforehand that he had a female friend there whom he'd probably sleep with on the trip.
You know, just letting me know beforehand. His dog was tiny, but very protective and bit my naked thigh once in bed. He could only sleep comfortably with a pillow over his head.
Once after a night of partying we got breakfast at a cafe near my house. The next day over the phone he admitted that while sober he didn't have anything to talk about with me and pretty much ended the relationship. It made me extremely sour. He also drove drunk. Whatever.
So yeah. The Captain was kind of crazy. He had a free bird tattoo on his neck. Also, a tattoo of a pin-up girl with small pox and a giant labia for a head. Abby told me that probably wasn't dating material. He always talked about the tattoos he'd give me-for free, after hours, but it never happened.
It annoyed me when he'd try to pressure-"When am I gonna get to tattoo you??" and I'd reply "I dunno, when ARE you?" because we both knew he wouldn't. I gave him an awesome drawing once which I was hesitant about because in the past I'd given other people drawings and the relationship ended soon after. Same curse here. I don't know why, it just always happens.
Some time late last year or early this year he was over at my place and got too rough. Biting or choking and I wasn't into it so he hit me across the face. And then when I freaked out he wouldn't leave. He stopped but wouldn't leave, tried talking or pretending to be sorry. I don't think he was, just that it was cold out and too late to catch a train back to Salem so staying at my place was easier. And as I was breathing fire he attempted to calm me down so it wouldn't be quite so awkward to stay. I've never felt so powerless. I just wanted to be alone and here the dude wouldn't even get out of my bed.
The last time I saw him was days before moving to Chicago. I had a bundle of foreign coins and was on Commonwealth ave, trading them in for american cash, strutting down the sidewalk, happy to be done at my job, possibly even whistling when I saw him coming down the street. He looked older for some reason, pale, dressed all in black with black hair, like a vampire. We were civil. The only thought in my mind was that he looked like the antichrist, but he'd probably like that.
There was a gap between the Captain and Kyle #2 last year when I briefly dated Jaimie. It was only for a month or so, Sept I think. Trying to count backwards here.
Kyle #2-winter 2010,
Jaimie-fall 2009,
Captain-spring/summer 2009,
David -briefly spring 2009,
Adam-fall 2008.
I dated the Captain in 2009. At the time I had pink hair and was still upset over being dumped a few months earlier by Adam, the prettiest guy I ever dated. I was living with Abby and her geriatric cat Ophie, who was in love with me. Her other geriatric cat Qipu had just passed away and she wanted to get a tattoo to remember him. Qipu's ashes were in a box on top of Abby's trophy for taint licking in her bedroom. We went to the best tattoo shop in Boston, just down the street from where we lived. I'd been there before but the Captain was a newish employee. About my height, mid-30s, jet black pompadour, covered in tattoos. Neck, hands, fingers, the works. While Abby was being worked on by another employee the Captain and I half-chatted and flirted. I don't really know how to flirt, by the way. Sometimes I try too hard or vice versa but this was nice and even. It was one of those magical times when you just know something's going to happen. My friend Coco also worked at the shop and warned me that he was okay but she was unsure of his attitude towards women. I also heard him talking to a friend while at the shop about some younger girl and wasn't being too polite...though his mocking of her fake Coach bag tipped me off that she was probably the kind of girl I'd openly mock as well. He was aggressive and alive. I liked it.
Later in the week we had a drink at the Brendan Behan pub and while I told myself to take this one slow I also knew it wasn't going to happen. Captain was his real name, he changed it from Robert or something a while ago. He was from Virginia or Kentucky but was obsessed with Halloween and while on a trip to Salem, Mass decided he wanted to live there. Something told me he had issues which made up and moving easy. I knew exactly how that was, after all. We left the bar and went to a hotel, partied like rock stars...and that's pretty much how the relationship went. It wasn't all sex. Like I said he was obsessed with Halloween and the devil and gore which drove me wild. His apartment in Salem was two floors of creepy shit with blood paintings and a cemetery in the backyard (not uncommon in Salem). We watched more horror movies than you can shake a stick at, had expensive dinners, licked each other's tattoos, explored Boston, loved Skynyrd.
Captain talked so fast you could hardly get a word in and when he asked things about me I had short answers but he didn't really listen. He just waited for his turn to talk. He was so crazy and exciting it was fun for a while. I couldn't really call him a real boyfriend but was okay with what it was. After a while the sex became too rough. He'd roll over and sleep with his back to me and when I tried to spoon him he farted. I became annoyed with staring at his tattooed butt while he slept. I became annoyed with his lewd jokes and nose picking and trying to go down on me if I had my period or had just taken a dump. Sometimes you just don't want it. We saw each other once a week or so.
I moved into a different house in the same neighborhood and my bedroom window opened onto a back porch on the second floor. Captain would knock on the window after midnight and crawl inside. It was June and so fucking hot, 100 or hotter for days and days with no air. His sweaty body in my bed became too much. Pretty soon his attitude towards women became all too clear. Not a woman hater but certainly a sadist. Too rough, too much pain. The Captain had a kid back south but clearly just needed to be selfish and was like a big kid. I couldn't handle it.
finish later
kyle #2
two summers ago when i returned to work from the hospital there had been some new hires. one was a very young massart student. tall and lanky and dark curly hair. i had a small crush on him but everyone did then. very harmless. like a boy scout. i thought nothing of it. too young. i had been in the hospital over my infatuation with a thirty-seven year old man so it was nothing. i was surprised i found someone younger than me attractive at all. early in our friendship he saw me vomit behind a tree after leaping out of our co-worker's car. the winter after that he was in france and it was only when he was gone that the idea of possibly even started to show up in my mind. when he came back with giant curly hair i shrieked and fawned over him, only half-seriously. he was so nice and normal, completely untouched by popular culture. like he grew up without a tv and was home-schooled or something...but not in that creepy/socially retarded way.
our friendship grew over 2009 as i was fucking around with whoever but when the fall came i realized that i genuinely LIKED him. i couldn't think of a thing i didn't like. working saturdays was so awesome, looked forward to it all week. sometimes i'd say something coy or tried to get it out there without being too direct, but any half-assed attempts to show anything were politely shot down. i'm sure he saw me as 1)his boss, 2)too old, 3)risque. because all three were true. his arms were thin but kind of muscle-y. his white tshirts were so innocently transparent that i'd have to look away. there was a halloween party at my house and he came and stayed later than anyone. we sat in my room drinking and tattooing. i'd been bugging him for a while to tattoo me and that night when we sat cross-legged on the floor across from each other and he held my wrist up on his knee with both hands to tattoo it i felt "the feeling". not in a sexual way, but in a way that my heart started pounding in my chest and i couldn't breathe. so pure. like in a movie. i couldn't believe i hadn't felt it before.
we'd hang out a lot more. i got him into the cure and depeche mode. we'd hang out alone, watching movies and shit. sometimes he'd just fuck around with instruments and i'd lay around and watch. i drew him a picture, which is a huge thing for me. it was like crazy best friend shit. when we'd sit on the couch or floor and he'd tattoo my wrist i'd ever so slightly stroke the palm of his hand. when we started to go to the symphony i think i caught him looking at me a certain way. still nothing happened.
i think in january i slept on the couch at his place and we both lay awake in the dark in different places, considering. talking about it later, oh yes, it was too strange, we couldn't be like that, let's not talk about it again, silly. then one night we were laying side by side on my bed on our stomachs like a couple of kids looking at my old foreign coin collection listening to sigur ros or something, half-drunk, and he slung his arm over my back. i think i made a sound like "huuuuuhhhh......." and he pulled me into spooning, teasing that in the past i'd casually mentioned that spooning at any time would be acceptable. i think doves flew out of my chest.
just spooning that night, that was all. soon after that the same thing happened at his house, but i turned on my stomach and kept my face close to his, half-mashed in the pillow, staring at him until he kissed me. sex came within days, i believe. at my house, almost naked, i was terribly hilarious. on top of him, about to shimmy my underpants off(or down around the ankles would have worked, too) i got very serious and confessed that i had a secret, that i wasn't...all...woman...down there. and i think he was going to just roll with it. of course it was a hilarious lie. i am a terrible bitch.
the sex wasn't bad at all. i'd suspected he was a virgin before, but then changed my mind. he'd just been burned badly in the past and hadn't touched a girl in years. sex face to face with someone for the first time, someone who'd been like your best friend was almost too much, i really enjoyed being on our sides, hearing him breathe behind me like i've never heard him breathe before, hands on my hips, pushing against me. i lived on the top floor of a veggie co-op on a hillside in jp, a hippie/gay/dominican-populated area in boston. my bed (a hand-me-down futon, possibly just a mattress on the floor at that time) was under the window with just a solid view of the moon, nothing in the way.
no one at work suspected a thing. my last night in boston we went to a raw restaurant for dinner with the coop, i became ill with nerves. spent the night in intervals of restless sleep and vomiting. he tried to comfort me. in the morning we went to pick up the rental car, packed it and said goodbye outside his house. we said we loved each other, which was true. i cried while driving. for a long time i knew i'd move to chicago. what happened was terrible timing but i wonder if it really was. if it had happened sooner i may not have moved...and it was my time to move. we may have had a long and messy breakup. this way there wasn't a chance. for two months we talked on the phone every night, phone sex sometimes which i'd never done before. i saw him during a layover he had at midway at the end of march, just hugging for twenty minutes. after that, sometime in april? he told me it was too difficult. we didn't have a plan, you know, just this surprise thing that happened right before i moved. he said he couldn't come visit me in chicago as a lover. i hung up and we haven't talked since then. he graduated college and moved to providence, doesn't have a friend there. much like the boat i was in when i moved here. it hurt to ignore him knowing he was so alone and how hard it is as i'd just done it and he had been there for me, on the phone every night. we've written letters twice though. i want to stay his friend even if it hurts, we'd been friends long before the little romantic blip at the end. he's just a fantastic person, doesn't even know the meaning of a one night stand. so different from any other guy i've met. i'm sure when he does date again it'll be someone really awesome, some innocent girl who doesn't wear makeup and would rather make stained glass than go to bars. i sincerely hope he's happy whatever he's doing.
there's no denying it. i'm a dirt-worshipping tree-hugger. i've seen the video of crazy hippies crying and praying in the forest to logged trees and it did make me chuckle. there's a kind of extremely lame and obnoxious hippie out there that everyone has probably come in contact with. i don't really fit in there.
my job is making me vegetarian again, slowly. i've never seen so much dead meat in my life. sometimes in the walk-in cooler there's giant ribs stacked to the ceiling. when you work in a pretty well-known rib place there's gonna be meat everywhere. i don't know the quality of life of the animals before they come to us. the boss buys pretty quality/expensive stuff but i'm not sure if that means anything. i've enjoyed eating meat for most of my life. i don't hate people who do. right now, for me, i can't do it without being disgusted. last month i had food poisoning, which probably has part to do with it. my stomach is still sensitive and most food turns me off. i get hungry but every little thing turns me off. ehhhh.
my sister is having a baby. my cousin is getting married. my other cousin is having another baby. i don't quite feel like a mutant, accepting that i'm in no place to be married or have a kid right now, but it does widen the gap of me vs. family. or, people i'm related to. i have trouble using the word family. there's no bad feelings, i just cannot get close to people. sometimes i feel a hum when i'm with my parents or sister, knowing we have the same blood. i just cannot get close to people. most people. even those i date. sometimes i end up looking at them like i don't even know who they are. but that's a story for another day.
tomorrow is my 27th birthday. so i've been alive for 27 years, entering my twenty eighth year of livin'. i get strange and down during this time of the summer, trying to ignore that as in this fairly new relationship.
he asks me what i want for my birthday.
i don't want a computer, camera, clothes, stuff. there was a point, even like four years ago, where i'd like something brand spanking new. a new tech thing. something to make me feel cool and more in tune with city-living. i watched mtv religiously as a teenager and felt totally inadequate all the time. it's taken a while but i just. don't. care. anymore.
if a guy would surprise me with a shopping spree i'd probably dump his ass pretty fast.
not trying to "hate" on people, women, people who care about cute shoes or whatever new apple product there is. but if they're drowning in shallow treats to ignore the deeper, more natural ache they feel, trying to fill a void with stuff...i can't be down with that. and i don't know how to fill that void. i have a huge hole blasted through the middle of myself. but clothes, expensive haircuts, and cameras only remind me of the natural resources abused to get them. labor, oil, dyes, chemicals. it makes me feel dirty. i'm trying to get by in the city knowing that everything i touch and use daily, someone/thing else has suffered as a result of.
i don't really want anything for my birthday, but i love the dude for wanting to please me. i wonder if he's been on edge since the coke fiasco. fiasco meaning i left a party when there was a chance it was around and when he came home hours later admitting he'd done it, sweating and slurring and breathing too shallow/fast, i snapped.
make no joke about it, i hate coke with a passion. i can't explain why. i think it's dirty, gross, and people who do it are lame hipsters or bloated scumbags. i've also had friends/dated people who do it. while it makes me uncomfortable, everyone is their own person. gotta just let them live. i take prescriptions to keep from having a nervous breakdown and blowing my head off and some people might think that makes me weak. some people hate prescription meds because of how they're tossed around like candy and can just make people worse. but i won't date someone who does coke all the time. nuh uh. on a rare occasion i get wasted, want to party and go balls-out. but doing that often, even every weekend just screams "i have issues". i can't respect people who do that. i'm not in a place right now where i get drunk many times a week. maybe the time will come again. but right now i just can't handle that kind of destruction, or in someone i date.
so the coke thing only happened once.
right now just trying to figure shit out. i'm 27, unskilled and morose. i like teeth. i'd go to dental school. i also have a need to help right now. i'd like to take this fall and go down to the gulf and help, doing whatever. i'm also interested in WOOFING.
though that doesn't pay...and i'm not sure it should.
ah, i feel better from just writing things down. thanks, blog.
wrasslin'
no?
ok.
