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A Risky Return

I paced the floor anxiously.  I stood up, sat down, stood up, sat back down.  I let out a disgruntled moan.

The time had come.  My cousin and his wife would be returning from their trip in only a couple short days and I needed to make a decision on where I would go next.
My mother and I were meeting in Bali in a month’s time, so it seemed silly to begin a new job and settle down in a new place, only to have to pick up and leave soon after.
I didn’t want to stay where I was so I considered travelling for the month, but was seriously low on funds.  I tried to find a temporary job doing farm work or fruit picking, but did not receive a single response.
The only option that really appealed to me was returning to the surf town.  I reasoned that I could get my old job back, have a few couches here and there to crash on, and that it was necessary because I really truly missed my friends and needed them in my life.  All that was true, but maybe the real subconscious reason for my decision was that I wanted to see Nick, even though my heart started pounding and my skin started sweating anytime I thought about seeing him.  It had been nearly a month since his announcement and I had yet to respond.  I knew that seeing him would be inevitable, so I decided to try and be the bigger person and call a truce.
My fingers trembled when I dialled his number.  After an eternity he finally answered, I took a deep breath and firmly spoke my peace.
“I’m trying to be happy for you, because I know that this is all you’ve ever wanted,” I told him.
“That’s not true -” he interjected.
“Do NOT interrupt me.  I’m speaking now,” I spat and he shut right up.  “Anyway, I’m coming back to town and I know we have all the same friends and I know I’ll have to see you so I wanted to tell you that I don’t hate you and that we’re cool, but in no way can I ever be your friend.”
He said he understood and thanked me for my call.  I hung up the phone and got to work planning my return.
Oh dear God, what have I done?


I had changed and so had the town.  It was noisier and more chaotic than I had ever remembered, chalked full of all the visiting summer vacationers. I felt reborn and vowed that this time around I would be the most social version of myself and say yes to every experience offered to me.

I met up with Kyle and the two of us walked the beach.  Of course, the second person we ran into was Nick…  He and Kyle chit chatted, while I stood off to the side.
“Nice to see you,” Nick smiled at me, “Otis is in the truck if you want to say hi.”
I spent the rest of their conversation cuddling Otis, who had become a full-grown dog in my absence.
After finally escaping the awkwardness that felt like it lasted a lifetime, I received apologies from both guys for putting me in such a situation.  I told them both not to walk on eggshells around me and that I was fine, but the minute I walked into Kennedy’s house I began drinking heavily…

That night we celebrated my return with an epic chicken dinner cooked by Jill, followed by lots of wine and joints and cigarettes, followed still by a quick ride into town where we would proceed to dance the night away.  I met up with heaps of friends including one in particular who had messaged me earlier in the day named Fred.

… A little backstory on Fred: He and I met shortly after I first moved to town.  Jill and I were sitting on the beach and a group of guys walked by and called out ‘cheers!’ to us while simultaneously tipping their beer bottles in our direction.  They were cute, friendly and drinking so we decided to join them.  They were a group of local street artists and I hit it off particularly well with Fred.  We all ended up getting loose at the bar.  Fred and I snuck out the back to smoke a joint and laugh about our same stupid sense of humour.
“You’re really cool, we should be best friends.  No, seriously, we should be best friends,” he insisted.
After that, we chatted back and forth and he ended up meeting me at the drum circle.  He insisted I come to the bar to have a drink and dance with him. It was getting late and I had work in the morning so I told him I was heading home.  He leaned in to kiss me.  In all my stoned glory, I dodged his smooch and yelled out, “Did you just try to kiss me?!”
“Um, yeah that was my intention…”
I was all too aware of some of his chick friends standing out of his line of vision and filming the entire scene on their phones.  I felt so incredibly awkward, truthfully, I was attracted to Fred in a lot of ways and I was curious to kiss him, but I had just started dating Nick and didn’t want to betray him.  Instead of explaining any of these things, I just turned around and ran out of the bar.  After that, Fred and I were less friendly, but we’d still chat here and there, I’d run into him every so often and we’d have a drink together…

But this time, dancing at the same bar where he first made a move, I didn’t turn away when he leaned in to kiss me.
When everyone began parting ways and heading home for the night, Fred turned to me and asked me to spend the night with him.  Back at his house, drunk and turned on by the prospect of a new partner, I threw him down on his bed and attacked him with all the prowess and seduction within me.
He was tender and attentive, thumbing my nipples and kissing my breasts.  When he took off his pants my jaw dropped at his size, the largest I’ve ever had without a doubt.  He fucked kind of fast, which was slightly painful, but I managed to slow down the tempo.


 

I woke up, naked and sprawled across his bed.  My mouth was dry and I was disoriented, but something had woken me up.  It was an older man standing in the open doorway, we made eye contact before he slammed the door shut in embarrassment.  I had a sudden flashback of stumbling into a grandiose house, chalked full of expensive looking art pieces.  And then it hit me: Fred lived at home.  Fred lived at home and we had just spent the entire night having loud, boisterous sex.  I was mortified.  Even more so when I had to get up and be introduced to Fred’s dad and even more so when he had to drive Fred and I into town because apparently we had cabbed into the middle of butt-fuck no where and Fred had lost his license earlier in the month due to a DUI.

Once in town, we went to part ways.  He asked what my plans were for the night and I told him about a show I was meant to go to.  Not even an hour later he messaged me saying he had gotten a spare ticket and would see me there.  I couldn’t help but grin.
“Be careful,” all my friends warned, “He obviously likes you a lot.”

My friends had ditched the show and I hadn’t seen Fred anywhere.  I was just about to leave myself when there he was, leaning against the front door frame, chatting to one of the ticket girls.  When I saw him, he looked embarrassed as he pulled me close to him,
“I was just trying to guess where this girl is from.  I thought Germany, but my friend thought Russia so I had to come over and find out,” he explained nervously.
I just laughed and brushed it off, happy that I had finally run into him.  We spent the rest of the night dancing, drinking vodka and making out against the bar.  When he took me home I told him how uncomfortable I felt meeting his dad.
“My dad really likes you, I’m glad you met him.  I don’t bring girls home very often, and I want you to get to know my family because I want you to be around a lot.”
I blushed.  My friends were right, he obviously did like me… a lot.


Fred asked to see me the following night, but I told him I needed a night to myself.  He expressed his disappointment, but asked me if he could cook me dinner at the beach on a following night.  I could barely contain my excitement at the prospect of such a romantic date, but felt sideswiped when he mentioned that a couple of his friends would be joining us.  Ashamed that I had misread the situation, I desperately texted Jill and begged her to join us.
Once we were all sitting and I was desperately trying to relax, who should walk over, but Max and Brandon and Kyle and bevy of the rest of Nick and my shared friend group.  I knew they were also planning a barbecue but thought they had chosen another spot.  To my horror, they decided to join us and I let out a huge sigh of relief that Nick was not amongst them.
Long story short, we all got stinking drunk and Fred and I disappeared back to my tent, but ended up just passing out on top of each other.

I woke up covered in sweat and with a vicious hangover, I rolled over and groaned with the pain.  Fred awoke and suggested we treat ourselves to a lazy hungover day at my campground.  We smoked weed and swam in the pool, smoked more weed and got breakfast, smoked even more weed and had sex and then smoked a little more while hanging out in the jungle.  We finally left the grounds to catch sunset and smash a pizza on the beach.  We parted ways and promised to get together soon to watch a movie, but after that day things changed drastically.


Fred stopped responding to my messages, whenever I’d see him out he’d make an excuse to leave, yet he would tell me how beautiful I was and kiss me in public, but then I’d hear stories about him leaving with other women.  I confided in my friend Reese and she insisted none of it was true.
“I know Fred really well, he’s not the kind of guy who picks up random girls at the bar.  He’s a sensitive artist type.  Trust me, he’s a good one.”
Maybe so, but it seemed he had moved on from me and I wondered desperately what had changed.

On Aussie Day, high on M and feeling alone, I made the mistake of calling him up and telling him I wanted to see him.
“I’m fucked up,” he admitted, “I want to see you too, but I don’t know if I can make it back into town, you could come here though.”
“Why don’t you text me the address and I’ll try to get a lift,” I suggested.
“Yes, that would be awesome.  I’ll text you right now, I really hope I get to see you.”
I never received a message and I spent the next day wallowing in my hangover and hating myself for being such a fool.

A couple days later, I saw him out, but walked away before he could notice me.  Sitting down on the patio with my friends, I tried not to notice him leave with a skinny brunette.
When Reese arrived and I told her, she was in disbelief and disappeared to get the scoop from one of Fred’s friends.
“Okay babe,” she said upon returning, “this is going to hurt really badly, but it’s better for you to know so you can move on.  That girl he left with is his girlfriend, apparently they’ve been dating for a while.”
Ouch.
“And on top of that, supposedly he fucks a new girl every week.  I’m so sorry, he had us all fooled.”
Double ouch.

I tried to be strong and laugh it off like I didn’t care, but I fell apart.  All the Nick issues I’d buried inside came bubbling to the surface.  I told everyone I didn’t want a boyfriend, but I’d used Fred to distract myself and to replace that giant gaping, Nick-shaped hole in my life.  I cried, a lot.  I could not stop.  I left the bar and went home where I cried myself to sleep.


At 7 am I staggered into work hungover, sleep deprived and depressed.  My co-worker and I smoked a joint before starting on our cleaning duties and the weed helped numb me.  In fact, all I’d been doing since I’d returned was drinking, smoking weed and using hard drugs and the chemicals were reeking havoc with my emotions.  On top of it all, after finishing my shift, I received an angry phone call from my dad, accusing me of being a shitty daughter.
“You’re right,” I admitted, “My life is an absolute mess right now, but I’m going to try harder.”
I wanted to go back to sleep, but my tent was too hot so instead I met some friends at the beach.  The moment I got out of the water I made eye contact with a smiling Fred, walking towards me, blissfully unaware of the revelation I’d just received.
I panicked.  I had no idea what I wanted to say to him.  So I did what I do best and quickly ran away from the beach.

That evening, I was still too terrified to face him, but instead constructed a long text message.  I knew it was the cowards way out, but I didn’t want to see him and I had to get some things off my chest for my own sake.
I just told him that I thought we were friends and he really disappointed me by being like every other Aussie guy.  I explained that I never wanted a relationship, but would have appreciated honesty and a bit of respect.
He apologised for being distant and blamed it on his upcoming move, before asking me to hangout the next day.
My response?
“The reason I’m saying these things is not because of you being distant.  We live in a small town, and I’m not an idiot.”

I didn’t expect a response and wasn’t surprised when I didn’t get one.  I seriously questioned my judge of character, took a deep breath and tried to make the most of my remaining days in town, thankful that I had Bali to escape to.

 

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Emotion Rules Supreme

For a while I felt on top of the world.

I had a decent guy in my bed and a couple more on the side.  I felt like a pimp and the emotion-free sexual deviant I had always strived to be.  Until a few days ago at least…

Cut to my last encounter with Ted.  It was early in the morning and we had just finished having sex.  We lay in bed cuddling and chatting before he had to get up and get ready for work.
Ted turned to me and said, “I had the craziest dream last night…”
“What was it?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I dreamt that I was having a threesome with you and Kennedy,” he laughed.  “I don’t know, I guess I just always think of the two of you together.”
His comment caught me off guard and made me feel extremely uncomfortable.
He begun getting ready while I stayed in bed.  He came back into the bedroom to give me a kiss and announce he was leaving and that I was welcome to sleep as long as I wanted and let myself out.  I slept a while longer and then headed home to get ready before making the drive to Auckland to show my car to some potential buyers.
Throughout the day, his comment kept coming into my mind, I just couldn’t seem to shake it.
During my drive, I caught up with Kennedy on the phone.  She asked about Ted and I brought up his comment.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she stated, “On that first night he wanted to hook up with us at the same time.”
“WHAT?!” I cried in dismay.
“Yeah… I told you this!!”
“You most certainly did not, or else I would have NEVER slept with him again.”
“I swear I told you… Apparently he told Chad he was going to invite us over to look at the stars and try to fuck us both at the same time.”
I was mortified.  Ted and Kennedy were always on friendly terms before he and I ever got to talking and I always assumed he was interested in her, but I thought maybe that changed when he met me.  When he messaged her that first night and invited the two of us over I thought it was because he was too shy to get a hold of me and invite me over on my own.  Not because he wrongfully assumed he could fuck us both and ended up with me as some sort of consolation prize…
I told myself it didn’t matter and to just let it go, but I couldn’t shake the hurt I felt.  Kennedy is usually the centre of attention when it comes to men: they all love her, they all want her.  She is flirtatious by nature and is instantly interested in most guys she meets.  It doesn’t really bother me because I’m not into said guys, that and I am actually quite confident in my own looks.  Yes Kennedy is hot, but I am too, we are attractive in two completely opposite ways.  That being said, sometimes I can’t help but feel like her short, frumpy sidekick.  On top of all that, my and Kennedy’s lives are already so intertwined: we shared a car, a house, a room, friends, experiences, everything.  Just for once, I wanted to be seen as an individual, at least to the guy I was sleeping with.  The same guy I thought was nice and into me.  Once again I had played the part of naive fool.

Shortly after I arrived in Auckland, I received a message from Chad asking where the fuck I had been hiding.  We talked a little and I asked why he never told me about Ted’s true intentions.  He immediately asked who had told me that and then got to work denying it.  I said it didn’t really matter, that I was just curious and left it at that.

On Thursday I worked an event and my co-worker and I went across the street to the pub for a drink when we’d finished.
From my spot on the deck I spotted Ted walking down the road from his house.  He came over, gave me a hug and then went to join his friends for a game of pool.  I didn’t want to see him and perhaps my feelings were obvious.  When he left, he came over and said goodbye and then messaged me later to apologize for not inviting me over, explaining that he was really tired.
I messaged him back saying it was fine as I was also tired and not into sex at that particular moment.
That was 2 weeks ago and I hadn’t heard a word from him since.  Until this weekend…


I was happily clad in sweats and about to settle in for my nightly Netflix binge when I got a message from Chad, insisting I stop being a wiener and come out with him.  At the same time I got a message from my buddy Kurt, announcing that he was back in town and asking me to come out.  I made the same tired excuses, but in the end I gave in.  I had been hiding under a rock for too long and besides, I knew Kurt wanted to get with me and I was kind of curious myself.

I showed up at the pub and made my way through the thick crowds, clutching my jug of beer awkwardly.  Neither Chad nor Kurt were anywhere to be seen.  But I did see Ted, chatting up a sexy brunette in this distance and doing his best to disregard me.  I saw a couple other friends and sat with them for a while.  Ted whisked his companion off for what I can only assume involved mediocre sex at his nearby abode.  Despite my best efforts, I did notice them leave together, but I wasn’t mad, in fact it all made a lot of sense.  But knowing he was banging someone else did give me that extra incentive for my actions later in the night….
Chad finally showed up and was acting like a wasted idiot and had no idea where Kurt was.  I was nearly done my jug and was contemplating calling it a night and making the long drive home until Kurt finally showed up.  They convinced a few of us to go over to the bar before last call.  I figured since I was out anyway and had a place to crash I may as well make the most of it.  We did a couple shots and then went back to Kurt’s.  We smoked copious amounts of weed and that’s when I started puking.  And puking.  And puking some more.  I eventually managed to drag my wasted ass off the bathroom floor and onto a cot in Kurt’s room where I immediately puked into an awaiting bucket.  He told me that if I felt better I was welcome to join him in his bed.

I woke up in the morning and felt stupid and disappointed.  Rather than chalk the entire experience as a loss, I got up, brushed my teeth, climbed into bed with Kurt and seduced him.  It was exactly what I imagined sex with someone nearly 10 years my junior would be like and I can only pray to God that I did not take his virginity.  I told him what to do and got mine before passing back out.  Everyone was starting to wake up so we went to the bakery for food.  That’s when I got the message from Ted:
“Hey, I’m really sorry last night.  I think I’ve been going a little crazy cause I know I’m leaving soon.”
I was genuinely confused.  Sorry for what?  Fucking someone else?  Ignoring me?  Did we have some sort of fight or interaction that I couldn’t recall?  I asked him why he was apologizing.
“Maybe it’s not a big deal, but I left with someone else last night and I feel like an asshole.”
That’s when the rage hit me.  What the fuck was this idiot hoping to accomplish?  Did he think his apology would keep me fucking him?  Or did he genuinely feel guilty and was trying to clear his conscience?  What did he expect me to say in return?  What a dumb mother fucker!
I thought about my response.  I knew I should probably ignore him completely, or better yet, come up with some breezy response along the lines of ‘Whatevs, I’m fucking other people too.’  But in that moment that’s not how I felt.  I had to say something and make it icy so as to ward off any future attempts to fuck me and what came out was:
“You and I always knew this was just sex.  You’re free to do whatever/whoever you like.  But after 2 weeks of not speaking to me, don’t message me some paltry excuse and apology, it’s not making you look like a nice guy.  And don’t bother responding to this message.  Have a good one.”
Too cold perhaps?  For me it felt just right.  And he got the point.  When I saw him at the pub again later that day, he made no effort to speak to me and he and his friend left shortly after for the bar.

Once again, I let my emotions into what should have been a carefree fling.  Now I’m more desperate than ever to get the fuck out of this town and its people.

Maybe I’ll have better luck next time.  Or maybe I should just give up on the notion of no-strings-attached.  Clearly it’s an unobtainable goal.

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We’ve Come A Long Way

When I first started this blog it was a means to vent about my failed relationship without further annoying my patient friends.
It then allowed me to organize my thoughts and do some soul searching.
Soon after it became a platform to discuss hot sex and cute boys.
The sex dwindled and I started writing a number of hasty, short articles about whatever popped into my mind.
Now?  I don’t know what to write about.  I can’t say what my blog is or where it’s going.  It’s rather representative of my life.  I never know what I want or what path to follow.  Maybe I never will.  But I know I’ve come a long way, even just in the last year.
My mind used to be consumed with thoughts of sex and men and potential boyfriends.
I’m still that crazy ultra-sexual woman, but my thought process has shifted.  I can’t just have sex with someone I feel half-hearted about.
Believe me, I’ve tried.


LipRing was my last and that was once and months ago.  He and I have slept together only a handful of times in the last few months.  After our last encounter, I was determined never to go back.  The sex is subpar and not worth putting up with his weird and rude antics.  There’s very little I like about him and because of this, I barely find him attractive anymore; I’d rather be chaste than have to spend any more time in his company.
Luckily, he also backed off and provided me no opportunities for temptation.

Last weekend our paths inevitably collided.  It was the weekend of Rip Curl Pro and the town was swarming with hot foreign surfers.  I was on antibiotics that would cause me to vomit uncontrollably at even a drop of alcohol so needless to say I was completely sober.  But I still attended the after party, I really wanted to dance and possibly talk to a cute guy.
It was an amazing and fun night.  I love socializing with a clear head and knowing that no one will remember anything I say or do, it’s a powerful feeling.  Naturally, LipRing was one of the first I saw and he was smashed.  He stumbled over and began rustling my hair until I pushed him away and yelled, “SCRAM!”
I did my best to avoid him, but it seemed every time I turned around he was beside me with his tongue down the throat of a gorgeous leggy brunette.
Two days later he started messaging me, whining about how we hadn’t seen each other in so long.
“I saw you on Saturday…” I informed him.  He seemed abashed.

The following weekend we saw each other yet again, only this time my mind was definitely not clear.
He asked me again and again to come home with him and every time I said no.
“I’ll drive you home in the morning!”
“Or you’ll make me walk home again, in the rain…”
“No, I swear I’ll drive you.”
“Even so, it’s not happening.”
Finally he relented and said, “Okay, I guess you have your reasons…”
“I have a lot of reasons,” I slurred, “But none of them matters, what matters is I DON’T WANT TO and so I’m not going to.”
“You’re missing out,” he threatened.
“YOU’RE missing out,” I countered and then did my best to dodge him for the remainder of the night.
When I woke up, I smiled through my hangover.
I was proud of myself for sticking to my guns and going home alone.


The other night, while watching Archer I found myself seriously attracted to Stirling Archer.  Turned on by a drawing of a man, yes it’s gotten that bad.
I considered just finding a decent looking guy, any guy, and seducing him.  After all, there are two Kiwi men who have been pursuing me lately.
One is nearly ten years my junior.  He lives at home, works for his dad and is into extreme sports.  He’s sweet and attractive enough, it could be fun to bed him and show him the time of his life.
The other is a few years older than me and is the definition of an adult.  He lives on his own, is an engineer and a base player.  He’s nice and has a good body.  His hairline is receding, but he’s attractive enough.  He could know his way around a woman’s body and it could be fun.
Enough is the key word.  They’re nice enough, attractive enough, but enough is no longer enough.  I don’t want to settle to appease my sullen vagina.
I want intrigue and passion and excitement.  I want to WANT someone.  I want to be mad with desire for the next man I have sex with.


I was talking to Dillon and as always, our conversation turned to sex.  Dillon admitted he’d been rather slutty lately while I admitted to being slightly prudish.
“It’s not for lack of trying,” I insisted, “I just can’t find anyone who interests me even a little and I can’t be bothered to have meaningless sex with strangers.  What’s happened to me?”
“That’s probably a good thing,” he suggested, “It means you’re growing up.”

Growing up?  I guess it had to happen eventually.


I patiently await the day I meet a person that makes my heart pound and my breath ragged.
Until then, it’s nice to know that I’m happy and content on my own.

My blog may always be a mishmash of thoughts, but at least I’m starting to find my way.

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The Return of LipRing

3 more weeks passed by and I had given up hope of seeing LipRing again.
He hadn’t been at the last few Summer Jams, I hadn’t run into him on the street, I couldn’t even find him on Facebook (the fact I was unsure about his name probably didn’t help me in that regard.)  I wondered if perhaps he had been a sexy spirit who returned to roam the Earth one final night before disappearing forever into limbo.  Or maybe he had just left town.  Whatever the reason, I decided it was time to forget about him and move on.

Sunday had rolled around and I was debating going to the weekly instalment of Summer Jams.  Kennedy was working late and my roommate Terry and I were sitting on the couch, watching Chappelle Show and sipping beers.  I was more or less put together as Terry had initially indicated interest in attending the Sunday festivities, but was rapidly back peddling.  Anyway, the two of us decided to drive into town for more beer.  While in town, I suggested we go into the bar, just to check it out.  They weren’t charging cover yet, it might be fun to have a beer and see what’s happening.  We walked across the street to the bar, but did not make it in.  The bouncer banished me for not wearing shoes.  Also, they had already started charging cover.  Fuck that noise.

The two of us retreated home and continued to sip beer and shoot the shit.  Kennedy texted me to announce that she was almost done work and to invite me in joining her at the bar for a quick beer.  I was reluctant, but didn’t want to waste my cute ensemble so I drove back into town.  We entered the courtyard of the bar and were met with the last dying notes of the performing DJ.  We ordered beers and looked around, quickly seeing Argentina, who had become a regular sight at these Summer Jam sessions.  He came running over and gave us each a huge hug, before turning slightly to the guy trailing behind him and asking, “Have you met my friend?”
I looked into the face of his friend and immediately saw the glow of the silver lip ring.
“You!” I exclaimed.
“Right, I forgot that you two have met before…” Argentina trailed off with a smirk.  He and Kennedy began chatting.
I turned to LipRing, “I’m glad I finally ran into you, I wanted to explain why I ran off so awkwardly.”
“Yeah, what was that all about?  Such a huge disappointment for me.”
We started chatting and flirting.  He told  me how he had moved into a house no less than 5 minutes from my own.
When Kennedy reappeared she announced that she wanted to go home and offered LipRing a ride.
“Yeah, that would be great, maybe we could have a couple beers on my deck?” he asked me.
“I’m keen.”
There was no need to discuss it, we both knew exactly what would be going down.

Back at his house, the two of us were struggling to juggle a blanket, a bag of popcorn, beers, smokes and a speaker in order to continue our party out on the deck.  Just as soon as I had everything balanced precariously in my arms, he leaned over and kissed me, then kissed me again.  My arms relaxed and I dropped everything onto the floor.  He pushed me up against the wall as we continued to passionately make out.  Needless to say, we never did make it outside…
After the third time and as the sun began coming up the two of us finally fell asleep, cuddling in his single bed.
In the morning, we went at it two more times before retreating to the shower and throwing together a hasty breakfast of bread, cream cheese and ham.  I literally felt week at the knees as I walked home in the afternoon heat.

We had exchanged numbers, but I didn’t really expect to hear much from him.  A couple days later he added me on Facebook and sent me a message saying that he had written my number down wrong and couldn’t text me, but wanted to invite me to a barbecue at his house.  I begged Kennedy to accompany me for at least an hour and she begrudgingly agreed.  When we arrived, LipRing offered me a beer and wasted no time in inviting me to stay the night.  Once again, we had fun, but that night I could hardly sleep.  His bed was too cramped and his room too hot.  He was pressed right against me, big spoon style, and I was pinned against the wall.  There was no where to move and every time I tried to readjust, his arm would still end up underneath my neck.  I considered getting up and walking home to the comfort of my own bed, but knew I would inadvertently wake up his entire household in the process.
I tossed and turned and had repeated nightmares about LipRing doing terrible, douchey things towards me.  I was actually relieved when I woke to the sound of my alarm, Kennedy and I had planned to drive to a neighbouring town for the day.  He tried to convince me to stay, but I could not be swayed.

The following Sunday I was at Summer Jams, dancing up a storm with my Canadian friends.  Of course, I bumped into LipRing almost immediately.  I tried to play it cool and do my own thing, but by the end of the night we were all over each other and together we began making the long walk home.  As we walked, we talked and as we talked, I began to get a little peeved with his personality.  I hate when people try to present their opinions as facts.  Like when they tell you a song or artist you like is rubbish and then act as if their word is the final say.  I also really dislike when a man rambles on and on about himself and fails to ask even a simple question about yourself.
Regardless of these annoyances, I was on a mission to have sex, not a conversation, so we carried on back to his house.

I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing.  I was naked and sprawled across a mattress strewn on the floor.  LipRing lay beside me groaning, “Make the noise stop!  Please make it stop!”
I began rustling through scattered belongings and finally found my phone, groggily I answered.
It was my work, asking me if I could come in because it had been a really busy morning.  I knew the rational thing to do was get my ass out of bed, go into work and make an extra hundred bucks to keep me going.  But when I rolled over and looked at LipRing – his bronzed, naked body, his mess of blonde hair, the stubble that ran across his strong jaw line – I just couldn’t bring myself to leave his bed.  I made up some excuse about going somewhere for the day and then pretended to lose reception and hung up, quickly nestling back into his awaiting arms.  I had every intention of getting up and doing something with my life, but the day slipped away from me.  It was a blur of sex and breakfast and cuddles and long conversations and surf movies along with the occasional nap.  Before I knew it, it was 9:00 pm and we had barely left his bed, much less his house.  I insisted that I finally retreat home.  We said our goodbyes and once in the safety of my house, I flew into a panic:
Why did I spend the entire day with this guy?  I didn’t really even like him.  I SHOULD have gone into work and made some extra cash.
Things were feeling way too familiar, questions had been broached regarding past relationships, I did not like the direction we were headed.  I didn’t want a boyfriend and I didn’t want to waste time with someone I’m not really into, because that’s less time spent meeting new people and persuading personal interests.
I resolved to create some distance.

Another week passed without a word.  It was, yet again, Sunday.  I was standing behind the counter at work, willing the time to go by faster, when who should appear next to me? LipRing, of course.
“Hey, how’re you doing?” I asked with a big grin.
“Hi, I applied for a job here last week and was wondering if you’re hiring.”
My face fell – he actually had no idea who I was.  Granted I was wearing my glasses and had my hair straightened, but he completely did not recognize me.
I went bright red and felt lost for words.  I tried to explain that we may be hiring next week.
“I like you’re glasses,” he said, as he turned and walked away.
Did he recognize me finally?  Or was that a random compliment?  Even though I wasn’t all that into the guy, it made me feel entirely unmemorable and kinda crappy.
When I got home, I replayed the awkward scenario in my head over and over again.  Finally I messaged him, “Did you seriously not recognize me today?”
“I’ll admit, it took me a few minutes.”
He started trying to flirt with me, but I was entirely turned off.
At Summer Jams, my roommates all insisted I stay away.  After all, he barely spoke to me when I did spot him.  We all left early and I contemplated saying bye to him, he would probably persuade me to spend the night with him and I just was no longer into it.
I did receive a text at 3 am insisting I spend the night and next day with him.  Then a subsequent text the next afternoon apologizing for the booty call.

Another disappointment.  Maybe if I get desperate I’ll hit him up, otherwise it’s onto the next one.

0

Repeat Offender

The last couple weeks have been a blur.  A busy, hectic, stressful blur.  On top of a non-stop work schedule I was also struggling to get myself organized and packed.

On one such day I was riding my bike to work, calculating the amount of hours of work I had left when my phone started ringing.  My phone was in my pocket and I can talk through my headphones so I answered without looking at the call display.
“Hey, how are you?” asked the male voice on the other end.
“Who is this?” I hesitantly asked.
“It’s Matthew!” he exclaimed, clearly offended, “I can’t believe you don’t have my number anymore.”
“No, no, I have it.  Just on my bike so I can’t see who’s calling,” I countered. “Anyway, how’s it going?”
I wasn’t all that surprised to hear from him, he had been Snap Chatting me non-stop over the past month and I had partaken in the flirty banter.  I may have sworn off Matt months previously, but I had reconnected with him in the hopes of having wild passionate goodbye sex before I took off for my adventure.
He told me how excited he was to see me when I got back into town and we made small talk before I arrived at work and said goodbye.
What an interesting turn of events.

I worked my double and started to bike home when my phone chimed with the sound of a text message.  I peered down at the screen: It was from Jess.
“Hey, back for the weekend.  Are you in town?  I’d really like to see you before you go.”
I am not exaggerating when I say the last time I spoke to Jess was when we slept together nearly 3 months prior.  I hadn’t heard a peep from him, but I knew he had been away working the entire time so I didn’t think too much of it.
Damn, am I that good that the last couple guys I slept with are desperate to get in one last roll in the hay before I leave?  All I need is a message from Dan and I’ll be 3 for 3.
(I was slightly hopeful, but of course, that never came.)
Back at home, I began my reply:
“Long time no talk.  I leave Monday actually!”
“Damn!  We should overnight” he suggested playfully.
I sat on my bed for a long time just staring at my phone, trying to come up with a response.
The smart, responsible part of me reasoned that I was way too busy to host him.  But the horny and desperate part of me thought back to our last encounter with excitement.
Forget what you should or shouldn’t do.  What do you WANT to do?  I asked myself.
It didn’t take long for me to decide and I typed out a response:
“We should overnight.  How about tomorrow?”
“Cool, I’m in town with a friend though.  Can she crash?”
An unexpected obstacle.
“Sure, I work late but I’ll text you when I’m off.”


When I finished work, I sent Jess a quick message and began my journey home in the pouring rain.  When I walked into my house I saw Jess’ head stick around the corner, “Hey!” he said with a huge smile on his face.  He and his friend Ashley were hanging out, waiting for me to get home.  I suddenly felt overwhelming discomfort.  Was I supposed to entertain them?  Did she know what he had come here for?  Should we just immediately retire to the bedroom or should we have a bit more tact?
“I have a nice bottle of wine, if you guys wanna have some,” I suggested.
We drank the wine and chit-chatted, Ashley was really cool and I enjoyed hearing the two of them reminisce on childhood memories.
Jess rolled a joint for Ashley and I to smoke and I felt myself begin to relax.
I loudly vocalized how tired I felt.  Jess followed me downstairs to my bedroom.
We briefly caught each other up on our respective lives and then got down to business.  Once again, we only kissed twice and there was little to no foreplay.  It was exactly what I needed.
In the morning he made Ash and I breakfast and the two of them left to go surfing.  They invited me to join, but I bemoaned all of the packing I had to deal with.  We hugged, said our goodbyes and parted ways and I began attempting to sort out the chaos that was my bedroom.


I barely made it out of town in one piece, but somehow, despite all the procrastination, I pulled it off.  I said goodbye to most of the people I wanted to and stared out the bus window sadly at the passing scenery, wondering if I would ever return back to this magical place.

When I got back to my hometown and set up at my moms house I was bombarded with messages from Matt asking when we were going to hang out.  Now that I had gotten my kicks from Jess I didn’t feel the same enthusiasm about reuniting with Matt.  I felt bad about the way I had completely cut him out when I left town and did genuinely want to reconnect with him.  I knew if I saw him that I’d probably want to sleep with him and I just wasn’t sure if it was wise to go down that path again.  He and I had history, it wasn’t as simple as sex.  I made plans to go for coffee with him the day before I was leaving to visit my university friends.  We sipped our cappuccinos and he asked me if I wanted to smoke with him back at his house.  Since I was on a mission to smoke all the ganja I could before leaving the country and since I was enjoying his company, I agreed.  We sat on his deck listening to music and passing the pipe back and forth.  I decided to go home and start getting organized for my weekend in the city and he took it upon himself to join me.
Umm, okay?
Back at my mom’s (empty) house I packed while he tried to flirt with me.  I was still on the fence.
“Sorry to be rude, but I’m gonna quickly call my friend back, I missed his call earlier.”
He dialled and lifted his phone up to his ear, “Sorry I missed your call man.”
The volume was up so high I could hear his friends response from across the room, loud and clear as he said: “Yeah you were too busy fucking your girlfriend.”
Matt chuckled and responded: “Not yet, but soon enough man, soon enough.”
That was enough to make my decision for me.  Matt had not changed; he was still a pompous asshole who bragged about me to his friends and honestly believed he was in control of our relationship.
“I really need to get organized here, I have to ask you to leave,” I told him as sweetly as I could muster.  He looked shocked, but we hugged and parted ways.


Part 2:  Back in the City

Cut to Friday night.  My girlfriends and I were crowded around the mirror, primping and prepping for a night on the town.  I was determined to dress up, look like a lady and dance up a storm in the city.  I stepped out wearing a modest, black dress that hugged every curve and showed off my slender legs adorned in high leather boots.  My hair fell in beachy waves around my made-up face.  I hadn’t seen this glamorous side of myself in almost 6 months.  I looked damn good.
We met up with some friends at the pub and began to drink excessively.
“Oh my god, it’s that ginger that I made out with at your party!” Jane exclaimed.  “I feel like I should apologize and buy him a drink after how rude I was to him.” (An entire other story in itself.)  Off she went as I continued to slam drinks.  It was nearing midnight and I was desperate to go dancing.  I was dancing on the spot and calling out to Jane and Andi (who were busy chatting up Gingy and his friend.)  Jack laughed and pulled me in for a hug, “Get your girls, go dancing, find a sexy man and take him home with you.  You deserve it!” he told me.
I laughed, “I just want a dance, I’m not looking for a man,” I assured him.
I finally dragged my friends and their new tag-alongs downstairs to the club.

At the club, Jane and Gingy immediately disappeared, Andi disappeared shortly after and I was stuck with Gingy’s friend.  The friend was cute and nice enough, but he kept trying to cuddle with me.  While waiting for a drink at the bar a young guy approached me, “This is going to sound really weird, but I went to high school and elementary school with you, although I was 4 years younger and I was so totally in love with you growing up and I just had to tell you,” he said, starting away.
“Wait!” I called, “Who are you?”
We started to chat about elementary school and the like when suddenly the Friend grabbed my wrist and pulled me away, “What the hell are you doing?” I asked, “I was having a conversation with him!”
I sat the Friend down and told him straight up: “Look, I’m not gonna get with you, I’m not interested in you, I wanna go dance and do my own thing, so you may as well give up this chase now.”
“I can’t help it, you’re just so hot,” he complained.
“I know…” I said, still feeling insanely confident.  “Here…” I grabbed him by the collar, made out with him for 30 seconds and then pushed him away.
“Man you just made it so much worst,” he moaned.
I abandoned him to join Andi on the dance floor.  I’m used to dudes trying to cut in when I’m out doing my thing and that night was no exception.  But one such man immediately caught my eye.  This one was different: he was tall, blonde and insanely gorgeous.  The two of us started dancing up a storm; we were spinning and dipping and grinding and shaking.  Within minutes we were pressed up against the glass, passionately making out on the dance floor.  I felt 19 again.

The bar was closing and I went to gather my jacket while he got us some water.  We went up the street and he excused himself to go get his coat.  I stood with my friends, swaying back and forth, “Should I go home with him?” I asked them, “I really want to!”
“Do it!” Andi insisted, “He’s fucking hot.”
When he re-emerged we climbed into a cab.  No words needed to be spoken, we both knew it was going down.  In the cab, I asked as an afterthought: “Hey, what’s your name?”


There was no one home at his townhouse and the two us retired to his room and began to go at it.  He stripped down to reveal a chiseled body, covered in tattoos and the hugest dick I’d ever seen.  I was in heaven.  This is going to be AWESOME!  Oh how wrong I was.

The sex was… too rough… and too short.  5 minutes into it he stopped suddenly and stood up.
“The condom broke,” he informed me.
“So?  Put another one on and let’s keep going.”
“No, I’m done.  I’m not going to be ready again for a looooonnnggg time.”
“Wait, what?  It broke?  And your done?” My head was swimming.
“Don’t worry about it, there’s something we can get for you in the morning…”
I wasn’t concerned about that (I always have a back up form of birth control, thank you IUD!) I was more upset about the possibility of having anything less than a clean bill of health.  I pride myself on being very safe and careful and now all of that was destroyed.  While I lay there lost in my own thoughts, there were several knocks on the door.
To my shock and horror, he called out: “Come in!”
The door swung open and I dove under the duvet in shame.
His friends chatted with him at the door and then one asked, “Is there someone in your bed?”
I stuck my head out shyly.  “Hi,” I said timidly as they awkwardly introduced themselves.  They left and closed the door behind them.
“Do you want some chips and juice?” he asked excitedly, “I’ll get us some.  I have Dorrito’s Cool Ranch, Dorrito’s Spicy, Dorrito’s Original.”
“Anything besides Dorritos?”
“I have Miss Vickies!”
“Perfect.”
He disappeared in search of the chips while I tried to sort out this random turn of events.
He reappeared, chips in hand and started setting up Netflix.  There was a knock on the door again and a girl entered and informed him, “I’m going to pick up some stuff.  Do you want in?  Give me money.  Also, I need to borrow your scooter.”
Suddenly it made so much sense.  This guy wasn’t drunk.  He and his friends were ridiculously high on coke.  And about to do more, at 3 am.
“Shit, I forgot the juice, I’ll be right back!” he exclaimed excitedly and ran out.
This is all too much to deal with.  I didn’t sign up for chips and a movie, I signed up for spontaneous, random sex.  I’ve got to get out of here.
I started gathering all my stuff and getting my clothes on.  When he returned he seemed genuinely disappointed.
“You’re leaving?”
I walked out past all his friends and said a hasty goodbye.  He walked me to the front door.  I can’t remember if I left without a word or I may have said, “Well, it’s been interesting,” but my exit was awkward and uncouth.  I walked towards the street, while crying on the phone to Kennedy.
“Every time I try to have a one night stand it is SO disappointing!” I whined.  I cabbed to her friends house and the 3 of us smoked copious amounts of weed and talked about our nights.  I declared that the next time I slept with a guy, he was going to have to really work for it.  I don’t need a relationship, but some sort of sentiment or anticipation would be nice.


 

Now here I sit.  En route to New Zealand on a journey to find myself.  I have no solid plans, no expectations and have no idea what the future holds for me.  But I’m just going to go with the flow, say ‘Yes’ to every opportunity and hope for the best.