Random Shit

Minutes before the New Year was about to ring in here on the West coast, my phone starts going off with a new text message. I thought it was my Wenchy, sending me a text to wish me a happy New Year. I was quite surprised to see who it was from when I opened my phone. HOLY. SHIT. Well if my eyes aren’t deceiving me. It’s Drew. Responding to a text that I had sent him in OCTOBER! Now I know text messages do not take that long to reach the East coast from California. First thing that popped into my mind was, “Why in the hell is he texting me now?!” He must have been drunk texting. I text him back, and of course he didn’t answer me back. Figures. I had found him on MySpace just a few days earlier, so I sent him a message. I put in the header field “Hey, Drew. FUCK! YOU!” and just signed it T. I figured that would get his attention, since he fails to respond to my texts, voice mails, and e-mails. It did. He sent me a message back, “Fuck me, huh? :o)”. I was surprised to get even that much back from him.

The next night, New Years day, he sends me another text. We text back n forth for a little bit, and then he tells me to log onto MSM. I wanted to know why in the hell he was avoiding me like the fucking plague since August. He goes onto tell me that it had to do with being jealous, but not in the way that I think. Uh, okay. So he explains that he has this jealousy fetish. Huh! I didn’t know there was such a fetish, but then again what in the hell do I know. I just found out there is actually a smoking fetish. Google it yourself if you don’t believe me. So yea, he has a jealousy fetish. What is that exactly you ask? Yeah, I had no idea either what it was. The way he explained it to me, for his particular fetish, is that he like to make himself get jealous on purpose. When he was with his ex, he used to ask her about all her past boyfriends and how they used to fuck her and such. Whatever floats your boat, eh. Well, I guess he had told a girl not to recently about this little fetish of his and she thought he was freak. Me? Eh. I could care less. I guess he thought that I’d be like her. I had to remind him, “Drew, as long as you’ve know me, have I ever given you the impression that I was like other girls? Yea, I don’t think in the same bubble as everyone else.” It’s funny, he knows that he can talk to me about any and everything and he knows damn well that I am not going to judge him for it. For some reason he thought I was going to react the same way.

So yea, now that Drew has gotten his little ‘fetish’ off his chest to me, we are back to talking status. Now I’m working on getting his ass out here to California to come and see me this time. He’s never left the East coast, I think it is about time that he fly out here and experience California. And you know I’m gonna have to take him to Berkeley and San Francisco, especially to The Castro District. My, oh, my will that be an eye opener for him. Vermont is gay and lesbian friendly, but Vermont is very small town that still has its small town mentality. It time he broaden his horizons a bit.

David. Yea, still haven’t heard from him since I called him a few days later after his no show performance. Last thing I heard from him was that he was going to send me the money that I wasted on my plane tickets to see him. He said he would send it to me before Christmas. Yea, I’m still waiting. Not like I thought that I would actually see a dime, just wanted to see if he’d be true to his word. Nope. I tried calling his parents house, as that is where he was staying since he and his wife separated. I was told that he no longer is living there. He got his own place just before Christmas, and his parents (or at lest his mom anyway) hasn’t heard from him since. Nice. So yea, he is MIA. I shot him an e-mail earlier tonight chewing his ass out for not letting me know that he moved, and for not calling me. So, we’ll see.

I mention earlier that I had called Mr. Love a couple of weeks ago after seeing my Grammy in the hospital. I didn’t elaborate much, except that it was him that I needed to talk to after seeing my grandma. We talked a bit. It was a little weird talking to him again after all these months. He still called me be-be, which was really weird hearing again. It’s funny how you can fall right into the same familiarity once you shared. He told me that he was sorry for not calling me. I told him that it was okay and that I knew that he wouldn’t. I just know him too well. He said that it wasn’t from lack of wanting to, he had my name on his phone quite a few times. He said he just didn’t have the balls to push the send button. He’s still afraid of me. Com’mon on now. Get over it man! Which leads me to believe, that he still loves me and still has not gotten over me? But what ever. That is his issue he needs to sort out, not mine. He goes on to tell me that he’s probably going to be moving to Oregon. Come March he has to move out of the house where he is renting a room and he has not been able to find anything around here that he can afford and that allows dogs. So he says he’s got friends up in Oregon that said would take him in until he can find a job a place up there. I know how much he loves the job that he has here and told him, “That sucks.” Yea, I realize that I am quite the conversationalist here. But what else am I going to say, “I’ll be sad to see you go.”? Not likely, we are no longer together, what I think is irrelevant. I am a bit sad to know that he might have to move to Oregon, but I’m sure in the hell not going to tell him that. I do hope for his sake though, that he can eventually find a place here so he doesn’t have to leave his job. If he does end up having to move up to Oregon, I hope he at least sees me before he leaves. I would like to see him before he goes. Before I finally let him go, he said that I calling may be an incentive to call and harass me now. I’m not really putting too much into that. If he calls, he calls. If he doesn’t he doesn’t.

Earlier this week I popped into Porky’s for the weekly Thursday’s banjo night, a pint of beer, food, and good conversation with the regulars at the bar. Yea, you heard me right. Banjo night at the ole Palace! Let me tell you, Elvira never sounded as good as on them banjos! Zenn just happened to be working that night too. I was outside smoking a butt when he came outside for his break. We talked a bit about this and that. Then as he gets up to go back in, he tells me, “I’m sure I’ve probably given you my number a few times already. Call me when ever you just want to hang out.” I shake my head, “Nope. Don’t have your number.” “Do you want it?” Fuck yeah I do! I’m thing to myself. However my appearance to him is me thinking about it. “Sure.” So yea, I’ve now got pretty boy’s number. Am I gonna call him? I dunno yet.

I went into Porky’s again tonight. I’d been cooped in my room since Friday afternoon; I needed to get the hell out of here for a little while. I’m at the bar for a good while when I see Zenn come in from a delivery. I had no idea he was working tonight. (It’s not like I am stalking the boy and know every single night he is working.) I had brought my laptop with me so I could sit outside, drink a pint, smoke some butts, and start this post. So I head outside and start typing away. About 5 minutes later Zenn comes out for his break and sits at my table with me. We start talking about random shit when he then begins telling me that he and a few of his friends are going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show tonight after work at the Parkway Speakeasy Theater in Oakland. “Holy shit! I didn’t think they still showed that movie anymore. Fucking classic!” He asked me if I wanted to go, but I passed. He was telling me how he was going to be all dressed up, with body fishnet stocking, and the whole works. Fuck! That would have been worth it alone to go. I being the old fucking lady that I am, and totally acting oblivious to him and all his offers, passed like a dumb shit. Oh well, it’s not like I don’t have his number. We continue to talk abut other random shit though, when the conversation somehow got on HIM and Ville Valo. I tell him that I don’t know what it is but I have a thing for tall, white, skinny guys with long dark hair and eyes. Where as he makes the comment, “Sorry I’m not skinny.” WTF? This boy could blow away with the wind if he got caught in a gust; which I tell him. I then tell him that he actually reminds me of my ex. I’m sure I am confusing the hell out of this poor boy. He’s given me plenty of opportunities of offers that I seem to blow off by seeming to be disinterested. Yet I talk about things like how I would love to photograph him and how I have a thing for guys that look like him. I think the knowledge of him being all of but 21 keeps me from taking him up on his offers. I know what would happen and I’m not sure I want to go there. It could be fun though. I dunno, I’m still testing the waters there. We’ll see. I just might surprise myself one day/night and actually call him.