So it finally happened today...the it's not you it's me conversation. I knew it was coming and low and behold it did. And now I feel incredibly silly as I sit preparing to write this post because I realize I am more upset about this man that I only went on three dates with than I have been about people I dated for several months.
Date 1: I should have known from the minute I got out of my Uber and met him in line at Mike's Pastry's how this would end, and if I'm being honest I think I did. Our first interaction was an awkward handshake and beginning of a conversation and this look of disappointment at the way I looked. Such is life I guess but I allowed myself to get attached anyway. The Hufflepuff is tall, dark and handsome, a D1 track athlete who works with students requiring an IEP at a special school. He has political aspirations, a husband dick, an amazing body, and is genuinely a really nice person. He is kind with a charming personality and I was really feeling it.
We grabbed cannolis and cappuccinos at Mike's and proceeded to walk to the area by the Coast Guard where you can sit and see the Boston Harbor. After that we walked around and the conversation flowed well and I came to like him even more. He is a man's man and again, just genuinely a nice person. He has a big vocabulary because he reads and he seemed genuinely interested. We grabbed some apps and a drink and then he drove me home. I kissed him goodnight and then went inside. A really respectable first date with a really nice guy.
I should mention that we met on OKCupid and he messaged me first. I think it's nice to know that at least on paper at one point he was interested....again....sort of my MO.
Date 2: We went to dinner and then ended up getting dessert. It was fun and the conversation again flowed easily. He insisted on feeding me cake when we went to get dessert which I find both sickening and was secretly loving. I really do want a man who wants to dote on me and feed me even if I might pretend that I am sickened by the thought.
He ended up spending the night at my place with the understanding that we weren't going to have sex. He was the big spoon and we fooled around and I was and still am in awe of his body. He has muscles everywhere!!! What else was nice is that he gives pretty good head. He wasn't super aggressive in bed, which was a little bit of a bummer, but I thought I would let it slide since I genuinely liked him.
Date 3: We ended up going to a trampoline park and to a brewery which was great. We were active and we fooled around and made jokes the entire day. I really did enjoy myself and getting to see him act literally like a giant kid at a trampoline park was so much fun.
When we got home my roommate was here with her mom who was recently diagnosed with cancer. She was going to be spending the night on our couch. I wasn't sure if the Hufflepuff would want to venture back to NH or spend the night so I made the offer. He opted to stay with us and we made a cake and then watched a movie while we fell asleep.
We fooled around that night be we never actually ended up having sex; just dry humping and some oral fun. I guess one interesting thing is that I never actually came with him. I made him cum a few times but for some reason I could never quite get there with him. I don't know if I was intimidated or nervous. I actually orgasmed once but I didn't ejaculate
*** I guess as an aside I should say, I have acquired this strange ability to orgasm without cumming. I don't know when it happened or why, but it's a new skill and it has happened to me on more than one occasion in the last few months. Its really confusing to me, but it is even more confusing to the people I am sleeping with because they think I am faking an orgasm. I can understand their reticence to believe me, but it really is the truth. So I think that perhaps this played into everything as well though I don't suppose we will ever really know. ****
The next morning the Hufflepuff woke up and shared a pot of coffee with me and my roommate and her mother and then was off to go rock climbing. And right before he left I got this weird feeling about seeing him again.
I had planned on driving up to see him on Valentine's Day since he had always come down to see me, but then I got a cold and I continued to get a sense that he was not really interested in seeing me. I don't know what it was necessarily, but I think it was just a difference in text message response time. I know that sounds stupid, but there was something different about the text composition, both grammar and prose were off and I knew that there was something more afoot.
In Mounting Securities, I think all of my fears came to a head and then today when we met they were confirmed.
We went and grabbed coffee and walked around the bike path in Somerville until we got back to my house. Once back he had a cookie sat down and said, "So how do you think this is going?" Never a good sign...so I told him that while I thought it was going well I got a vibe that perhaps he didn't think that way.....
I could have a been a dick. I could have dragged it out. I could have made him feel horrible. But as he looked at me with trepidation and concern in his eyes I realized I had seen this coming. This has happened to me before. Othello was one in a myriad of perfect men for me who in one disarmingly charming way or another 'let me down gently'.
So in the same composed-nurse way that I tell a patient that they have HIV and that everything is going to be okay even though I have no idea if that is true or not. I looked him in the eyes and said, "It's okay. I'm a big boy. Sometimes things just don't work. It's cool. I'm fine." He looked surprised and relieved all at once.
Then almost on cue he said, "Are you telling me the truth or are you doing that nurse thing where you pretend everything's okay when it's not?" At this point I had two options: 1) Double down and confirm that I was a mature person capable of rationale thought with control of my emotions or 2) Tell the truth, that I was secretly dying inside wondering if this was all my dating life would ever amount to...an almost or a just not quite right.
You just can't devastate a Hufflepuff...that's fucked up. So I doubled down. I offered the friend card like I do with everyone I've ever dated and he seemed happy and content and most importantly relieved. He kissed me goodbye and I told him that the ball to hang out was now in his court.
I'm disappointed.....mostly in myself....I never get attached like this. I don't usually tell people, particularly my family about who I'm dating and I broke all of my rules with this guy. I fucked up. I let him get to me and now I feel like shit. But such is life and sometimes....you just feel like a useless piece of shit.
So what do I do? I go back to the one thing that I know I can always have....my patients. I put stew in the crockpot and headed out to check on all of my beautiful disasters. Even if nobody else wants me....they're stuck with me.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Thursday, February 16, 2017
Alcoholics Abound
There have been countless times in my dating and professional life where lines and boundaries have gotten....well let's say blurred. I walk into the waiting room of the STD clinic to find a guy that I , dated or have previously fucked. I'm out at the club and one or another of the dancers wants to ask me questions about the bicillin shots that I had given him earlier in the week to treat his syphilis. One of the disease intervention specialists is given my name by a patient who thinks I may have been a contact to their rectal gonorrhea. Luckily for me I have come up with two sure fire ways to deal with these types of situations: 1) I ALWAYS use a condom and 2)I ALWAYS offer to talk about things more at the office and can provide my phone number for you to leave a voicemail on.
Recently a new situation came up for me though where the lines between casual friendship/fuck buddy blurred into a more nurse patient relationship. A guy that I have previously hooked up with....LOC....asked me if I thought he had a drinking problem. I think this was the first time that someone I was hooking up with had a questions about their substance use disorder. I mean in the past I have had guys I dated interested in doing drugs, but they never involved me in their drug use. There was something about the way he framed the question though that really threw me for a loop.
"Like do you think I have a drinking problem? No seriously I have been thinking I might need help but I want your professional opinion?" At this point I was so flummoxed that the only thing I could say was, "Well how much do you drink a night? and what happens if you don't have a drink one night?" The answers to both questions indicated to me that LOC would require a little more TLC to get his life in check. Drinking 3-4 drinks per night and getting shaky by 6 if you haven't had a drink yet is almost certainly an indication that you have a drinking problem.
And I can't help myself....so with true grace and class I said, "Yes I think you need some help." and I gave the number to a detox or two with the expectation that he would never follow through. But now what do I do? Do I continue to hook up with him? Do I try to use myself as leverage to get him to seek treatment? Do I just ghost him?
Ultimately I decided on none of the above. Instead what I did was provide the patient/LOC with info on places where he could seek treatment and encouraged him to do so. I also continued to talk to him like a friend and someone who I had slept with a while back but still enjoyed flirting with. I think I am going to try and treat it in the same way that I treat chlamydia/gonorrhea in a guy who is really interested in me. I give it some time and if the interest is still there, but the original problem is taken care of then I give them a second chance. If any piece of that is screwed up then its back to the drawing board for me but at least I can't be accused of not giving people a chance.
Recently a new situation came up for me though where the lines between casual friendship/fuck buddy blurred into a more nurse patient relationship. A guy that I have previously hooked up with....LOC....asked me if I thought he had a drinking problem. I think this was the first time that someone I was hooking up with had a questions about their substance use disorder. I mean in the past I have had guys I dated interested in doing drugs, but they never involved me in their drug use. There was something about the way he framed the question though that really threw me for a loop.
"Like do you think I have a drinking problem? No seriously I have been thinking I might need help but I want your professional opinion?" At this point I was so flummoxed that the only thing I could say was, "Well how much do you drink a night? and what happens if you don't have a drink one night?" The answers to both questions indicated to me that LOC would require a little more TLC to get his life in check. Drinking 3-4 drinks per night and getting shaky by 6 if you haven't had a drink yet is almost certainly an indication that you have a drinking problem.
And I can't help myself....so with true grace and class I said, "Yes I think you need some help." and I gave the number to a detox or two with the expectation that he would never follow through. But now what do I do? Do I continue to hook up with him? Do I try to use myself as leverage to get him to seek treatment? Do I just ghost him?
Ultimately I decided on none of the above. Instead what I did was provide the patient/LOC with info on places where he could seek treatment and encouraged him to do so. I also continued to talk to him like a friend and someone who I had slept with a while back but still enjoyed flirting with. I think I am going to try and treat it in the same way that I treat chlamydia/gonorrhea in a guy who is really interested in me. I give it some time and if the interest is still there, but the original problem is taken care of then I give them a second chance. If any piece of that is screwed up then its back to the drawing board for me but at least I can't be accused of not giving people a chance.
Mounting Insecurities
Shortly after restarting this blog I met someone online. He is everything I have always thought I wanted. Tall, handsome, friendly, ambitious, a total Hufflepuff, sexual chemistry, a GRE level vocabulary...he is essentially the hot gay nerd. I struck gold. We have been on three amazing dates, he has slept over twice, he met my roommate. I have gushed about him to my friends and coworkers. But for some reason this week I got this sinking pit in my stomach that I shouldn't get too attached. I hadn't thought once about jumping ship and then this week it hit me that I was nervous about what was going to happen next. There is some part of me that is petrified that what happened with Othello is going to happen here. I have been protecting him from the blog, because usually by the time I write a post about people that means they are not long for my dating world. I realized tonight that was ridiculous. Tonight is the first night that I have sent him a text message and he hasn't responded. I know that's stupid, and I know I'm being ridiculous and that this might mean nothing, but in my experience this is the beginning of the end.
By the third date the charm of dating someone who works as much as I do for my patients who have nothing has worn off and you want someone who can devote more time to you. By the end of the third date, you're sick of my swearing sailor mouth and want someone who can just chill and be cool. By the end of the third date you realize my life is really a fucking shit show and I am rarely in charge of what I am doing from one second to the next. By the end of the third date you realize that my room is always messy and I really don't care much about my appearance. By the end of the third date you realize my taste in everything from clothing to music isn't eclectic its just fucking weird and you are over it. By the end of the third date you realize I really am not that nice of a person and that the reason I have my jobs is to give me some chance of not going directly to hell. By the end of the third date you realize that I am more trouble than I'm worth and it would be way easier to get some Grindr slut to suck you off. By the end of the third date you realize that until you have a conversation with me about where we are in terms of dating I will assume that the buck stops there. By the end of the third date if I am still interested I have already become the clingy, annoying, and desperate boy that no one really wants to date.
So here I sit....several days after the end of the third date....and all I face are mounting insecurities about things that I have said, actions I have taken, and text messages I have and have not sent since we started dating.......waiting patiently to hear the chime from my phone indicating a text rather than the depressing trill of some horny Grindr queen.
By the third date the charm of dating someone who works as much as I do for my patients who have nothing has worn off and you want someone who can devote more time to you. By the end of the third date, you're sick of my swearing sailor mouth and want someone who can just chill and be cool. By the end of the third date you realize my life is really a fucking shit show and I am rarely in charge of what I am doing from one second to the next. By the end of the third date you realize that my room is always messy and I really don't care much about my appearance. By the end of the third date you realize my taste in everything from clothing to music isn't eclectic its just fucking weird and you are over it. By the end of the third date you realize I really am not that nice of a person and that the reason I have my jobs is to give me some chance of not going directly to hell. By the end of the third date you realize that I am more trouble than I'm worth and it would be way easier to get some Grindr slut to suck you off. By the end of the third date you realize that until you have a conversation with me about where we are in terms of dating I will assume that the buck stops there. By the end of the third date if I am still interested I have already become the clingy, annoying, and desperate boy that no one really wants to date.
So here I sit....several days after the end of the third date....and all I face are mounting insecurities about things that I have said, actions I have taken, and text messages I have and have not sent since we started dating.......waiting patiently to hear the chime from my phone indicating a text rather than the depressing trill of some horny Grindr queen.
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Post Date Anxiety
I have been actively dating and looking for a long term relationship in Boston for going on 6 years, give or take. I have been on literally hundreds of dates. Some of the dates were total trainwrecks, others were as exciting as watching paint dry, some were good, and a select few were fucking amazing. No matter how many dates I go on, or how much fun I actually had on the date, there is one thing that always happens; post-date anxiety.
For the first 2-3 hours post date I am filled with the anxiety that I think most people probably experience prior to their date. Did he like me? Why did I say that? What did he mean by that? Fuck, I'm an idiot. Will he call? Should I call him? Do I want him to call me? What would my mother say? What would my fag hag think? It is a series of endless questions that can be easily assuaged by a simple text from the other person. A yay or nay, a thumbs up or a thumbs down.
What's odd is that I don't have any of these anxieties prior to the date. I'm not nervous. I don't worry about what I'm wearing or how my hair looks. I simply go with the thought, "This is me....fuck it I can't do anything about it." Somewhere between meeting my date and spending some time with them I go from "fuck it" to "God I hope he liked me". Even on bad dates, I want the other guy to like me. I don't ever want to be the guy someone tells his friends about as the worst date of their life.
If I liked the guy and it was what I would consider a good date, then "God I hope he liked me" quickly divests into a series of insecurities about how I look, my physicality, my clothing choices, my word choices, what I ordered, and my choice of body language as we said goodbye (i.e. why did I hug him, a fist bump what the fuck were you thinking).
I'm not sure if I will ever really get over this. Its a product of my own self esteem I think. When left to my own devices I am able to convince myself that I have my shit together, but the minute I compare myself to anything in the outside world I rapidly feel inadequate and unaccomplished. Further fueling my inadequacies is my desire to be with someone that might actually give a shit about me.
I often profess how comfortable I am being alone and single, and more often than not, that confession is a complete fallacy. I worry about being alone forever. I am concerned that I might never get the family I want. I fret that I will have no one to share my professional accomplishments with when I come home. I brood about what adulthood would be like if the only men in my life were Ben and Jerry and Jose. I agonize over wanting the American dream and being satisfied with an alternative version of it.
The one thing that I am grateful for about this post-date anxiety is that it never pervades my preparation for another date. If the post-date anxiety becomes too much then all I need do is schedule another date with someone else. It's kind of like having an eye opener to stave off a hangover. Probably not the best idea in the long run, but sometimes we all need the quick fix.
Later
Tchau!!
For the first 2-3 hours post date I am filled with the anxiety that I think most people probably experience prior to their date. Did he like me? Why did I say that? What did he mean by that? Fuck, I'm an idiot. Will he call? Should I call him? Do I want him to call me? What would my mother say? What would my fag hag think? It is a series of endless questions that can be easily assuaged by a simple text from the other person. A yay or nay, a thumbs up or a thumbs down.
What's odd is that I don't have any of these anxieties prior to the date. I'm not nervous. I don't worry about what I'm wearing or how my hair looks. I simply go with the thought, "This is me....fuck it I can't do anything about it." Somewhere between meeting my date and spending some time with them I go from "fuck it" to "God I hope he liked me". Even on bad dates, I want the other guy to like me. I don't ever want to be the guy someone tells his friends about as the worst date of their life.
If I liked the guy and it was what I would consider a good date, then "God I hope he liked me" quickly divests into a series of insecurities about how I look, my physicality, my clothing choices, my word choices, what I ordered, and my choice of body language as we said goodbye (i.e. why did I hug him, a fist bump what the fuck were you thinking).
I'm not sure if I will ever really get over this. Its a product of my own self esteem I think. When left to my own devices I am able to convince myself that I have my shit together, but the minute I compare myself to anything in the outside world I rapidly feel inadequate and unaccomplished. Further fueling my inadequacies is my desire to be with someone that might actually give a shit about me.
I often profess how comfortable I am being alone and single, and more often than not, that confession is a complete fallacy. I worry about being alone forever. I am concerned that I might never get the family I want. I fret that I will have no one to share my professional accomplishments with when I come home. I brood about what adulthood would be like if the only men in my life were Ben and Jerry and Jose. I agonize over wanting the American dream and being satisfied with an alternative version of it.
The one thing that I am grateful for about this post-date anxiety is that it never pervades my preparation for another date. If the post-date anxiety becomes too much then all I need do is schedule another date with someone else. It's kind of like having an eye opener to stave off a hangover. Probably not the best idea in the long run, but sometimes we all need the quick fix.
Later
Tchau!!
Sunday, January 8, 2017
A Birthday Weekend Extravaganza
I know that I may have been gone for a while, but some things have not changed. I turned 27 this last week and I am still a total work-a-holic (I'm up to 4 jobs now) and I still am single as ever. I have never had a boyfriend despite my best efforts and I currently don't have a single prospect.
So what is a 27 year old guy to do on his birthday weekend... I took it off...I didn't work a single job, all weekend. Instead I planned to go out and drink and dance and have a good time. Of course life is never simple and there is always a wrench to be thrown into the plan.
Let's take it day by day shall we:
FRIDAY
I wasn't really sure where I was going to go or who I was going to go out with, but I was determined to do something fun. So I left work late, per usual, went to the gym and then headed home to eat and get dressed. As I was eating, one of my regular hook up buddies hit me up.
What you all need to know about this regular fb, let's call him LOC (Lawyer Of Color) is that the last time we fooled around I found out that he has a boyfriend. After multiple hook ups with LOC, he finally told me that he has had a boyfriend for 16 years and that they have been living together since 2006. Per LOC they are in an open relationship and it is completely okay to sleep with others. However, LOC spent the night the last time he came over and received multiple text messages from his boyfriend/common law husband in the morning. That seems to be a pretty normal reaction, but what was strange is that LOC didn't simply say that he fell asleep at the house of his hook up, instead he said that he was at another friend's home. Why lie if it was okay and you had an arrangement? It seemed odd, but I decided to let it go. I wasn't looking to make him my husband so what do I care about the logistics of his own long term relationship.
I tell you this to explain that on Friday night when LOC hit me up, I told him that he could come by, but I was going out. He was excited to go out because in his relationship state this apparently does not happen that frequently. We ultimately decided to go to Paradise and he came to my place so we could uber together. Then as I was getting ready he proceeded to get somewhere between 5 and 20 text messages. None of them were happy. I decided I would give him a few minutes to call his hubby and I encouraged him to tell his hubby to join us at the bar. I figured if there really were in an open relationship it would be fine. Then about 10 minutes later and uber became unnecessary because his hubby was coming to pick us up and drive us and accompany us to the bar. Cut to perhaps the most awkward car ride of my life. I sat in the back, alone and was talked about while in the car by both LOC and his husband. OH yes a full on tense conversation that I tried to intersperse with funny anecdotes or stories, which received no response from either party. I may as well have talked to myself.
When we finally got to the club, I immediately headed for the bar, where much to my surprise LOC's Hubby bought me a drink. Finally after two scotch and waters the hubby started to become talkative. It was probably half an hour into a rather typical night at Paradise when one of the other guys I have recently been dating walked in.
The other guy (who waltzed into the awkward night that was me as the third wheel to LOC's marriage) is a young black opera singer originally from the South. He is super nice, has a great singing voice, and an ass that you could bounce a quarter off. He is currently in grad school and working at one of the local colleges while still managing to go on auditions. I will call him Southern Divo for the blog for obvious reasons.
Well Southern Divo was not alone. He brought with him ProfAK. ProfAK was Southern Divo's voice teacher while he was in undergrad at a school in Arkansas. Apparently the professor and his student had hooked up after the professor finally left his wife. The two of them were now getting together in the city of Boston and decided to come to Paradise.....of course, where else would such a relationship be tolerated. To describe ProfAK I need only say he is exactly what you would picture a recently out southern opera voice teacher to look like, complete with spectacles, pale white skin, and large grandpa sweater despite being rather handsome.
Well the odd couple ended up joining the odd thruple on the dance floor and we actually had a pretty good night. It was a weird combination of jealousy and drama for me though. I guess I have been out of the gay club scene for a while and forgot how messy things can get when alcohol and emotions are involved. Ultimately I spent my night alternating between flirting and dancing with Southern Divo and LOC while ProfAK and LOC's Hubby were alternately flirting with me and giving me the evil eye. I felt a little like both sets of guys were competing to see who I might go home and have a threesome with, which was really strange.
When the club finally closed, LOC and Hubby were barely speaking to each other, but both wanted me to get in a car and go home with them. I politely shot them both down, insisting that I was going to take public transit so they didn't have to go out of their way to drive me home.
Then somewhere between the exit of Paradise and Mass Ave (not even a city block) I decided I would invite Southern Divo and ProfAK to brunch with me the next morning. Naturally when they agreed I also invited them to spend the night at my place since my roommate was away.
********************************NSFW***************************************
One thing led to another and before I knew it both Southern Divo and ProfAK were naked in my bed and we were fooling around. In no time we went from harmlessly making out with each other to seeing which one of us was most adept at shoving two cocks in their mouth at the same time.
You would think having two men that specialize in opera and vocal performance that they would both be able to open their mouths wide and really just go for it, but I ended up being the double stuff champ....who knew....(let's be honest...I did....if there is one thing that I have learned in the two years that I have been away its that I really love sucking dick and sometimes a passion for cock sucking is even better than the most skilled tongue). '
After a few hours of mostly oral, handjobs, and fingering, no one was ponying up to get fucked. I don't think that any of us had really planned on having anal sex that night and none was willing to take a time out to get ready. Eventually I started to get sleepy and I decided enough was enough and one by one, I shoved my finger in an asshole and swirled my tongue around a dick head and watched two giant loads shoot across bare chests. It was really hot and fun, but I was exhausted and it was bed time. I threw each of them a towel and then shimmied myself in between Southern Divo as the littlest spoon and ProfAK as the big spoon, still hard, but not wanting to let my horniness subside. I figured the minute I came I would instantly regret the almost threesome and I didn't want to ruin the moment.
We all fell asleep within minutes and did not wake up until my phone buzzed with a text message from one of the programs I am in charge of to let me know that one of my patients was brought to the ED. I hopped out of bed, read the text message and as I was crawling back in between the two men in my bed I realized that ProfAK was up and horny. I think having recently come out, this was probably the first all male threesome he had ever experienced and was still raring to go from the night before. I placated him, making out with him and giving him a handjob before ultimately shoving my middle finger up his ass, finding his prostate and gently tapping it until he shot a second load all over himself.
While he was in the bathroom cleaning up Southern Divo woke up and thanked me for the night before...he also thanked me for taking care of his professor this morning without him because "I'm not really into him and I'm afraid he thinks that I am going to want something."
********************************************SFW*********************************
Around 10:30a we all started to wake up again to the warnings about the snowfall. While I have a car and don't mind driving in the city I decided that I would rather not drive in the snow to brunch especially since I really wanted a bloody mary. Both Southern Divo and ProfAK went back to Southern Divo's place to get ready and come back to my place to uber to brunch.
SATURDAY
Brunch was largely uneventful and I found myself reveling in the talk of two true opera nerds. The ease with which the professor and his student were able to talk about famous directors, companies, schools, and pieces made me feel like I was in the inner circle and the inner theater kid in me was thrilled! I really do miss performing and every once in while its fun to think about how differently my life would have been if I had pursued musical theater instead of nursing.....but I digress.
My plan for Saturday quickly changed as more and more snow started falling down. Instead of going out to a straight bar and meeting up with one of the nurses I work, I became more and more focused on a guy who started to booty call me around 7p.
Normally, anyone who would booty call me around 7p would automatically be out...for you to be so desperate and so needed so early in the night there would have to be something seriously wrong with you and I just don't need anything else seriously wrong with my life. But, something about the mounting snow Saturday evening somehow made a 7p booty call acceptable.
Then when the guy finally showed up I remembered why I had been so negligent in replying to him the week after Christmas.....his voice was a huge turn off. I know that is a really superficial and bitchy thing to say, but it is the truth. Via text this guy is wicked hot. He is kind of cocky, really aggressive, and has a somewhat expansive vocabulary. In person this guy has not only an effeminate voice, but a really really gay inflection. Now I really don't have a problem with a gay inflection at all...I have dated guys with more than just a lilt to their voice, but they never tried to Dom me. The idea that a Dom Top would have the voice of Beverly Leslie from Will and Grace.
It's a travesty really. Otherwise the guy is pretty hot....not in the traditional rippling muscles sense, but he has a swagger. Ultimately about 5 minutes into sucking his dick I got cold and bored and decided that maybe we should just cuddle and watch a crappy movie instead. Luckily, this guy is on the girthier side and an eater and I had lamb, a roast, and risotto in my fridge to appease him.
We ended up watching this terrible movie on Netflix called Maximum Ride and then simply going to sleep. Sunday morning I woke up again to a text message from my caregivers about one of the patients who was not feeling great in the snow. I responded and promptly ignored Beverly Leslie's pleas to finally get him off. It wasn't until ten o'clock when Beverly Leslie told me that he had called an Uber and was going home that I finally got out of bed and said goodbye. That will surely be the last time that I invite him over. Get tricked by that voice once or twice that's one thing, but more than four times and then you're just a fucking idiot.
SUNDAY
I had intended to spend this day trolling OkCupid or some other dating app for a date this week, but instead the snow inspired a Betty HomoMaker like experience and I ended up making muffins, and bread, and a delicious hearty beef stew. Some days when I spend the whole day alone just cooking and cleaning I find so much joy in what I do that I become ever more ok with being alone forever. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing really, only just that its a fact.
I guess the one thing that I am going to take away from this birthday weekend is that going into 27 I am going to take a play out of a television show called Being Mary Jane, everyone in my phone is getting a nick name. Just like I give guys nick names on my blog I am going to start naming them in my phone that way so I don't forget who they are and what I like or don't like about them. Seems silly, but I am hoping that it will help prevent some PLCs like Beverly Leslie from happening again.
Well until next time.
Tchau!!!
So what is a 27 year old guy to do on his birthday weekend... I took it off...I didn't work a single job, all weekend. Instead I planned to go out and drink and dance and have a good time. Of course life is never simple and there is always a wrench to be thrown into the plan.
Let's take it day by day shall we:
FRIDAY
I wasn't really sure where I was going to go or who I was going to go out with, but I was determined to do something fun. So I left work late, per usual, went to the gym and then headed home to eat and get dressed. As I was eating, one of my regular hook up buddies hit me up.
What you all need to know about this regular fb, let's call him LOC (Lawyer Of Color) is that the last time we fooled around I found out that he has a boyfriend. After multiple hook ups with LOC, he finally told me that he has had a boyfriend for 16 years and that they have been living together since 2006. Per LOC they are in an open relationship and it is completely okay to sleep with others. However, LOC spent the night the last time he came over and received multiple text messages from his boyfriend/common law husband in the morning. That seems to be a pretty normal reaction, but what was strange is that LOC didn't simply say that he fell asleep at the house of his hook up, instead he said that he was at another friend's home. Why lie if it was okay and you had an arrangement? It seemed odd, but I decided to let it go. I wasn't looking to make him my husband so what do I care about the logistics of his own long term relationship.
I tell you this to explain that on Friday night when LOC hit me up, I told him that he could come by, but I was going out. He was excited to go out because in his relationship state this apparently does not happen that frequently. We ultimately decided to go to Paradise and he came to my place so we could uber together. Then as I was getting ready he proceeded to get somewhere between 5 and 20 text messages. None of them were happy. I decided I would give him a few minutes to call his hubby and I encouraged him to tell his hubby to join us at the bar. I figured if there really were in an open relationship it would be fine. Then about 10 minutes later and uber became unnecessary because his hubby was coming to pick us up and drive us and accompany us to the bar. Cut to perhaps the most awkward car ride of my life. I sat in the back, alone and was talked about while in the car by both LOC and his husband. OH yes a full on tense conversation that I tried to intersperse with funny anecdotes or stories, which received no response from either party. I may as well have talked to myself.
When we finally got to the club, I immediately headed for the bar, where much to my surprise LOC's Hubby bought me a drink. Finally after two scotch and waters the hubby started to become talkative. It was probably half an hour into a rather typical night at Paradise when one of the other guys I have recently been dating walked in.
The other guy (who waltzed into the awkward night that was me as the third wheel to LOC's marriage) is a young black opera singer originally from the South. He is super nice, has a great singing voice, and an ass that you could bounce a quarter off. He is currently in grad school and working at one of the local colleges while still managing to go on auditions. I will call him Southern Divo for the blog for obvious reasons.
Well Southern Divo was not alone. He brought with him ProfAK. ProfAK was Southern Divo's voice teacher while he was in undergrad at a school in Arkansas. Apparently the professor and his student had hooked up after the professor finally left his wife. The two of them were now getting together in the city of Boston and decided to come to Paradise.....of course, where else would such a relationship be tolerated. To describe ProfAK I need only say he is exactly what you would picture a recently out southern opera voice teacher to look like, complete with spectacles, pale white skin, and large grandpa sweater despite being rather handsome.
Well the odd couple ended up joining the odd thruple on the dance floor and we actually had a pretty good night. It was a weird combination of jealousy and drama for me though. I guess I have been out of the gay club scene for a while and forgot how messy things can get when alcohol and emotions are involved. Ultimately I spent my night alternating between flirting and dancing with Southern Divo and LOC while ProfAK and LOC's Hubby were alternately flirting with me and giving me the evil eye. I felt a little like both sets of guys were competing to see who I might go home and have a threesome with, which was really strange.
When the club finally closed, LOC and Hubby were barely speaking to each other, but both wanted me to get in a car and go home with them. I politely shot them both down, insisting that I was going to take public transit so they didn't have to go out of their way to drive me home.
Then somewhere between the exit of Paradise and Mass Ave (not even a city block) I decided I would invite Southern Divo and ProfAK to brunch with me the next morning. Naturally when they agreed I also invited them to spend the night at my place since my roommate was away.
********************************NSFW***************************************
One thing led to another and before I knew it both Southern Divo and ProfAK were naked in my bed and we were fooling around. In no time we went from harmlessly making out with each other to seeing which one of us was most adept at shoving two cocks in their mouth at the same time.
You would think having two men that specialize in opera and vocal performance that they would both be able to open their mouths wide and really just go for it, but I ended up being the double stuff champ....who knew....(let's be honest...I did....if there is one thing that I have learned in the two years that I have been away its that I really love sucking dick and sometimes a passion for cock sucking is even better than the most skilled tongue). '
After a few hours of mostly oral, handjobs, and fingering, no one was ponying up to get fucked. I don't think that any of us had really planned on having anal sex that night and none was willing to take a time out to get ready. Eventually I started to get sleepy and I decided enough was enough and one by one, I shoved my finger in an asshole and swirled my tongue around a dick head and watched two giant loads shoot across bare chests. It was really hot and fun, but I was exhausted and it was bed time. I threw each of them a towel and then shimmied myself in between Southern Divo as the littlest spoon and ProfAK as the big spoon, still hard, but not wanting to let my horniness subside. I figured the minute I came I would instantly regret the almost threesome and I didn't want to ruin the moment.
We all fell asleep within minutes and did not wake up until my phone buzzed with a text message from one of the programs I am in charge of to let me know that one of my patients was brought to the ED. I hopped out of bed, read the text message and as I was crawling back in between the two men in my bed I realized that ProfAK was up and horny. I think having recently come out, this was probably the first all male threesome he had ever experienced and was still raring to go from the night before. I placated him, making out with him and giving him a handjob before ultimately shoving my middle finger up his ass, finding his prostate and gently tapping it until he shot a second load all over himself.
While he was in the bathroom cleaning up Southern Divo woke up and thanked me for the night before...he also thanked me for taking care of his professor this morning without him because "I'm not really into him and I'm afraid he thinks that I am going to want something."
********************************************SFW*********************************
Around 10:30a we all started to wake up again to the warnings about the snowfall. While I have a car and don't mind driving in the city I decided that I would rather not drive in the snow to brunch especially since I really wanted a bloody mary. Both Southern Divo and ProfAK went back to Southern Divo's place to get ready and come back to my place to uber to brunch.
SATURDAY
Brunch was largely uneventful and I found myself reveling in the talk of two true opera nerds. The ease with which the professor and his student were able to talk about famous directors, companies, schools, and pieces made me feel like I was in the inner circle and the inner theater kid in me was thrilled! I really do miss performing and every once in while its fun to think about how differently my life would have been if I had pursued musical theater instead of nursing.....but I digress.
My plan for Saturday quickly changed as more and more snow started falling down. Instead of going out to a straight bar and meeting up with one of the nurses I work, I became more and more focused on a guy who started to booty call me around 7p.
Normally, anyone who would booty call me around 7p would automatically be out...for you to be so desperate and so needed so early in the night there would have to be something seriously wrong with you and I just don't need anything else seriously wrong with my life. But, something about the mounting snow Saturday evening somehow made a 7p booty call acceptable.
Then when the guy finally showed up I remembered why I had been so negligent in replying to him the week after Christmas.....his voice was a huge turn off. I know that is a really superficial and bitchy thing to say, but it is the truth. Via text this guy is wicked hot. He is kind of cocky, really aggressive, and has a somewhat expansive vocabulary. In person this guy has not only an effeminate voice, but a really really gay inflection. Now I really don't have a problem with a gay inflection at all...I have dated guys with more than just a lilt to their voice, but they never tried to Dom me. The idea that a Dom Top would have the voice of Beverly Leslie from Will and Grace.
It's a travesty really. Otherwise the guy is pretty hot....not in the traditional rippling muscles sense, but he has a swagger. Ultimately about 5 minutes into sucking his dick I got cold and bored and decided that maybe we should just cuddle and watch a crappy movie instead. Luckily, this guy is on the girthier side and an eater and I had lamb, a roast, and risotto in my fridge to appease him.
We ended up watching this terrible movie on Netflix called Maximum Ride and then simply going to sleep. Sunday morning I woke up again to a text message from my caregivers about one of the patients who was not feeling great in the snow. I responded and promptly ignored Beverly Leslie's pleas to finally get him off. It wasn't until ten o'clock when Beverly Leslie told me that he had called an Uber and was going home that I finally got out of bed and said goodbye. That will surely be the last time that I invite him over. Get tricked by that voice once or twice that's one thing, but more than four times and then you're just a fucking idiot.
SUNDAY
I had intended to spend this day trolling OkCupid or some other dating app for a date this week, but instead the snow inspired a Betty HomoMaker like experience and I ended up making muffins, and bread, and a delicious hearty beef stew. Some days when I spend the whole day alone just cooking and cleaning I find so much joy in what I do that I become ever more ok with being alone forever. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing really, only just that its a fact.
I guess the one thing that I am going to take away from this birthday weekend is that going into 27 I am going to take a play out of a television show called Being Mary Jane, everyone in my phone is getting a nick name. Just like I give guys nick names on my blog I am going to start naming them in my phone that way so I don't forget who they are and what I like or don't like about them. Seems silly, but I am hoping that it will help prevent some PLCs like Beverly Leslie from happening again.
Well until next time.
Tchau!!!
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
I'm Back
So my life got a little crazy for a bit and I stopped blogging. If truth be told, my computer died and it has literally taken me two years to buy a new one. I am a sick combination of cheap and lazy when it comes to myself and some of my personal choices in life.....which is probably why it is more than two years later and I am about to turn 27 tomorrow and I am still as single as when I first started this blog, oh so many years ago.
Prior to starting this blog I had worked for many years at honing my commitment phobe skills. I practiced diligently at being able to dodge almost every sign that a relationship would become serious. Recently a rather formative relationship came back to really confuse the hell out of me if truth be told.
One of the first guys that I dated while I was in college I actually met at a club that was 18+ with one of my friends. We dated for several months and I really liked him and he seemed to really like me. I am going to call him Diego for the purposes of this blog. Well Diego and I were going along swimmingly and then there was an incident. We were out walking his dog and these two little girls came over to pet it and their Mom yelled at them to "Leave they're dog alone"
In that moment something inside me woke up and just started screaming. I felt awful about it and that was when I think I first realized that I was a commitment phobe. I mean who gets upset that a stranger thought that two gay guys walking a dog would be a couple who owned the dog....I'm insane, or so I thought.
The other day at work I was going about my day as usual and went into the waiting room and called, "Paul" and who stood up but Diego. This has to be at least 6 years later, but I was sure that it was him. So sure in fact that I said, "Diego, sorry I called Paul." and in that moment he said, "yea its me" and followed me to have his vital signs taken. While I was taking his vital signs I tried to ask him if he remembered who I was and he simply looked at me and smiled the same stupid smile he had given me a million times before and said, "A lot of people think they know me, maybe we've met before" and with that kind of a response I simply put him in his room and notified his doctor of his arrival.
Then the freak out began. I just couldn't believe that there was Diego in my clinic. That there was Diego in my clinic and that he was seeing one of the more established HIV doctors. Then I had to enter the vitals in his chart and I saw that he has been HIV positive and tenuously in care since 2008.
Its sobering....
For years I thought that there was something wrong with me in that relationship and the truth was, I had been lied to for months. There wasn't anything true about the relationship at all, even the name I use to call him was different than the name in the hospital computer.
The other layer that I had to unpack is just how close I had come to being infected with HIV. I have since been tested many times and recently tested negative again (I went 1-2 days after Diego came to the clinic, I know that is crazy, but I needed to do it). I am on PrEP now which is a change since the last time I was writing on here. I have still never had sex without a condom something that I am forever more and more grateful for now.
I talk all the time in my lectures and in my job about how really anyone could become infected, but I think that deep down in some recesses of my brain I thought, 'Yea but probably not me' and this one person totally destroyed that thought in my brain.
The only good thing that came of Diego coming in to clinic to see his MD for the first time in over 1.5 years, I realize now that maybe I'm not a commitment phobe at all...maybe it isn't my own undoing. I think viscerally I knew that Diego had been lying to me. I think that some part of me always knew that there was something very wrong with our relationship, and in hindsight my gut was right. Truthfully, the whole thing was rather comforting to know that I wasn't wrong about him. In my mind if I was right about this, then I will most certainly be right about when I have found the perfect match.
So here's to hoping that 2017 shapes up to be an amazing year and that I don't join the 27 club...
Until next time...
Chau!
Prior to starting this blog I had worked for many years at honing my commitment phobe skills. I practiced diligently at being able to dodge almost every sign that a relationship would become serious. Recently a rather formative relationship came back to really confuse the hell out of me if truth be told.
One of the first guys that I dated while I was in college I actually met at a club that was 18+ with one of my friends. We dated for several months and I really liked him and he seemed to really like me. I am going to call him Diego for the purposes of this blog. Well Diego and I were going along swimmingly and then there was an incident. We were out walking his dog and these two little girls came over to pet it and their Mom yelled at them to "Leave they're dog alone"
In that moment something inside me woke up and just started screaming. I felt awful about it and that was when I think I first realized that I was a commitment phobe. I mean who gets upset that a stranger thought that two gay guys walking a dog would be a couple who owned the dog....I'm insane, or so I thought.
The other day at work I was going about my day as usual and went into the waiting room and called, "Paul" and who stood up but Diego. This has to be at least 6 years later, but I was sure that it was him. So sure in fact that I said, "Diego, sorry I called Paul." and in that moment he said, "yea its me" and followed me to have his vital signs taken. While I was taking his vital signs I tried to ask him if he remembered who I was and he simply looked at me and smiled the same stupid smile he had given me a million times before and said, "A lot of people think they know me, maybe we've met before" and with that kind of a response I simply put him in his room and notified his doctor of his arrival.
Then the freak out began. I just couldn't believe that there was Diego in my clinic. That there was Diego in my clinic and that he was seeing one of the more established HIV doctors. Then I had to enter the vitals in his chart and I saw that he has been HIV positive and tenuously in care since 2008.
Its sobering....
For years I thought that there was something wrong with me in that relationship and the truth was, I had been lied to for months. There wasn't anything true about the relationship at all, even the name I use to call him was different than the name in the hospital computer.
The other layer that I had to unpack is just how close I had come to being infected with HIV. I have since been tested many times and recently tested negative again (I went 1-2 days after Diego came to the clinic, I know that is crazy, but I needed to do it). I am on PrEP now which is a change since the last time I was writing on here. I have still never had sex without a condom something that I am forever more and more grateful for now.
I talk all the time in my lectures and in my job about how really anyone could become infected, but I think that deep down in some recesses of my brain I thought, 'Yea but probably not me' and this one person totally destroyed that thought in my brain.
The only good thing that came of Diego coming in to clinic to see his MD for the first time in over 1.5 years, I realize now that maybe I'm not a commitment phobe at all...maybe it isn't my own undoing. I think viscerally I knew that Diego had been lying to me. I think that some part of me always knew that there was something very wrong with our relationship, and in hindsight my gut was right. Truthfully, the whole thing was rather comforting to know that I wasn't wrong about him. In my mind if I was right about this, then I will most certainly be right about when I have found the perfect match.
So here's to hoping that 2017 shapes up to be an amazing year and that I don't join the 27 club...
Until next time...
Chau!
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