Posts Tagged music

Nearing the End of My Rope

Tensions were high between CK and I. Nearly every night, we’d find something to argue about. Although it didn’t always result in an explosive fight, there always seemed to be some kind of noise in the background. The honeymoon was officially over.

FightWhen we woke in the morning, CK apologized for the night before, as did I. As we got ready for work, we both agreed underwear was not something we should be fighting about. After making us breakfast, we ate, showered together, got dressed and made our way to the PATH.

A day prior, CK got tickets to see Hot Chip in Brooklyn from a coworker . He asked if I was interested in going. We had already planned to head to Brooklyn to visit Hip since he was recovering from his second hip replacement surgery, so I said, “Sure. Why not?”

StarbucksCaramelWhile we were at work, we nailed down plans via text and phone. Since I finished much earlier than he did, I hopped on the subway and made my way to his office. He wasn’t quite ready yet, so I asked for his coffee order and hit up Starbucks. I didn’t sleep very well the night before, so I needed something to keep me up and give me the energy to be a fun date.

While riding the subway out to Brooklyn, I asked CK if he requested the time off to join my family on vacation. He reacted to the question as if this was some big surprise. I’d only been asking him about it for a solid month. When he asked me to take time off and book a flight to Miami for his nephews birthdays, I did it without question. Now that I was asking him to take time off to be with me and my family, he didn’t think he could get the time off. I was p*ssed! I found it quite selfish. If he’d requested the time when I originally asked, we wouldn’t have gotten into the argument that ensued. As I said, we seemed to be fighting about everything.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe rest of the ride wasn’t pleasant. It grew to far higher proportions when we got off the subway. I wanted nothing more than to get right back on the subway and make my way home. I no longer had any interest in going to the concert, and I told him that. It takes two to fight, so I take half the responsibility, but he was being rude and treating me in a way I wasn’t willing to subject myself to. As a result, I skulked behind him as we walked through Prospect Park. As he yelled at me for not helping him navigate our way to the concert, I shouted back, “Fine. Just go without me! I don’t want to go anymore. I’m not going to have any fun.” I wanted nothing to do with him or Hot Chip.

I think he understood I was serious and responded by apologizing. “Can we just get past this tonight?” he asked. “Do we have to sacrifice our entire night over this fight?” I didn’t want to just put on a happy face and grin through it. I was angry, and to be honest, I wanted to go home out of spite. The concert was something he wanted to go to, and just as he didn’t put in the effort to come with me on vacation, I wasn’t going to come to the concert. I realized how unproductive this would be, so I agreed to go (not before numerous attempts to make my way back to Hoboken).

ConcertWhen we finally made it in to the concert, CK bought me a few beers, and we cut through the crowd to watch the concert already in progress. Surprisingly, I started to have a better time. Admittedly, I’d never heard of the band before we arrived, and I didn’t recognize any of their music. The fighting ended, and CK was being affectionate. We even made a few friends while moving from place to place among the crowd and managed to bum a smoke off some nice guys.

When the concert was over, it was far too late to visit Hip. I felt really bad considering he was the original plan and reason for the trip to Brooklyn. I wasn’t thrilled we sacrificed his visit for a concert, but in the end, it was CK’s decision.

On the walk to the subway, we found ourselves in a situation once again that birthed yet another argument. When we were a safe distance away from the situation, I began to calmly explain how p*ssed I was at him. Once again, he didn’t think it was a big deal and almost brushed it off as if I was overreacting. I didn’t care. To me, it was so much more. I told him explicitly how much I didn’t like these types of situations, and he completely disregarded those feelings. I don’t think he consciously acted in spite of my request — Quite the opposite. I don’t think he was thinking at all.

After arguing about the matter the rest of the way to the subway, I decided I wasn’t going to engage him in conversation any longer. Clearly I wasn’t getting through to him. We rode the subway with a large group CK decided to befriend. I wanted nothing to do with them. When he asked me questions or tried to introduce me, I simply ignored him. If he wasn’t going to take my feelings into consideration any longer, I wasn’t going to regard his either. I began to wonder if this was something we’d ever get passed. Maybe we were just inherently different. Maybe he would never be able to see things through my eyes. I began to think about what it would mean to end things. Obviously that would be my last resort, but I began to prepare myself for that possibility.

FriendsArgueI was also in a tough spot because I was spending the night at his place. By the time we resurfaced in midtown, CK finally realized I was ignoring him. He started to get irritated by this, and yet another fight broke out between us. This time, I didn’t care. I went nuts. I didn’t care who saw us fighting or what they heard as I laid into him. We argued back and forth about the severity of the incident at hand for some time. He didn’t realize it, but as each of these incidents came up, my tolerance for them dwindled more and more. Toward the end of the argument, I think CK finally got a clear idea of the zero tolerance I had left. I’m not the most bending person (and that’s an understatement), but this was one sticking point I wasn’t going to bend on. I didn’t care how small the infraction. He had a choice, and he needed to pick me.

He finally understood my stance and apologized for everything. He didn’t think this fell under my umbrella of discomfort. He finally understood that nothing in this realm would be acceptable to me. We were able to civilly walk the rest of the way back to his place, but the conversation was certainly nonexistent.

When we got back to his bedroom, I brushed my teeth, stripped down to my boxer briefs and climbed right into bed. CK finished what he needed to do before bed and climbed into the opposite side of the bed. That night, we didn’t go to bed fighting, but there wasn’t a lot of love in the bed either.

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Yoga from the Privacy and Comfort of Your Living Room

When Hoboken offered free yoga classes on the pier, I couldn’t turn down the chance to introduce myself to the practice. If you’ve read my blog, you are aware that I have come to enjoy yoga over the past few years. But, the free classes only last so long. Fall arrives, and classes move back inside. I have a very busy schedule, and I find it very difficult to make it to yoga classes. On top of this, traveling for work always throws off my workout schedule. And then there’s the cost of all those classes. I already pay for a gym and sometimes pay to swim. All these costs add up.

I needed to find an inexpensive and time-efficient way to continue practicing yoga on my own time. My Yoga Online offered just that. They bring the benefits of yoga, Pilates, meditation, dance, nutrition and holistic living to my fingertips.

When I went to My Yoga Online I was thrilled to find their endless library of yoga, and a variety beyond compare. With over hundreds of high-definition videos, you’ll get lost for hours in premium yoga content.

On top of that, I’m certainly no yoga expert. I’d hardly even consider myself intermediate, but they have videos for every level or proficiency. You can browse and sort by style, studio, teacher, level and length. M.Y.O. even has a word cloud to search videos. Not just looking for yoga videos? They’ve got many other holistic health videos to boot, such as meditation.

While I went to M.Y.O. for the videos, the community they’ve also built pleasantly surprised me. There are many ways to interact with other members, meet teachers, check out studios and read the latest blog posts. M.Y.O. even has a Twitter-like feed for its members to share with and learn from other members, even extending to Facebook.

Hate getting overwhelmed when you visit a service like this? The site is very customizable. After building your profile, you can set up a cache of your favorite videos and even share your great find with friends. You pick and choose what to focus on. If you’re like me, and you’re not fully versed in all the poses, you can concentrate on getting up to steam so your poses will stand out the next time you join a class.

M.Y.O. allows you to share your insights, ask questions and get answers, and learn and grow while keeping your Wellness Diary. You can keep track of your fitness and wellness goals, upload images and share with others, comment on blogs, track others’ progress, join forum discussions, ask experts and so much more. This site truly offers it all.

Trying to give your body a full overhaul? M.Y.O. has an entire health program you can gain unlimited access to with a premium membership. When you choose the perfect 8-stage program tailored to your needs, you’ll receive essential tips, expert insights, Q&As and yoga, wellness, and fitness videos. Or, perhaps you’ll want to check out the healthy living section to gain insight into a more wholesome lifestyle.

I was afraid I would miss the rest of the class, but that wasn’t the case at all. I never felt like I was practicing alone. Periodically, CK and I pull out our yoga mats together and take a class after a long day of work. It’s actually brought us closer together. Not only is the site customizable, but so too is your own personal yoga studio. Now, we rush home to unroll our mats, light a soothing candle, dim the lights and begin class. If we’re feeling like hot yoga, we turn up the thermostat. If we’re not feeling entirely motivated, we pull up a short class. Sometimes we just want some relaxing music to listen to while making a healthy meal. Everything is customizable to our mood and motivation level.

And, if you were hoping this works on your iPad, I’ve got good news. The next time you go on a business trip, take your yoga instructor with you. All you need is an Internet connection.

I love being able to fire up M.Y.O. whenever I want in the comfort of my own home. As they say on Game of Thrones, “Winter is coming.” As I’m writing this, I’m watching the snow fall outside my window so thankful I don’t have to trudge to a yoga studio all winter to keep up with my workouts. And, the best part is, you can try it out here, FREE TRIAL, for two weeks before paying a single cent. I encourage you to check it out and see all My Yoga Online has to offer.

My Yoga Online was not only nice enough to hook me up, but they are also allowing me to offer ONE FREE YEAR OF PREMIUM SERVICE at My Yoga Online to the lucky reader of my choice. Submit a comment or send me an email telling me why you think you deserve to win the one-year free membership. Good luck!

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Just Add Water

CK and I were having a very long holiday weekend, and we were only half way through it. As CK wanted to go to the Scissor Sisters concert on Friday, which ended up happening on Saturday, I wanted to spend the weekend with my friends as well. We made plans before the weekend kicked off, and we were going to try to stick to it.

Early Sunday morning, CK and I woke up and quickly got ready for the day. We hopped on my motorcycle and made our way to Hoboken. We were catching a ride with K to her parents’ house on Mohawk Lake. Since it was an hour drive, K wanted to leave early. Of course, we made it back to Hoboken and finished getting ready just in the nick of time to stay on her schedule. K’s roommates, D and G, and D’s girlfriend were also joining us. The five of us were spending the day on the water, tubing, swimming and lounging in the sun.

When we arrived at the lake, we visited with K’s mother before prepping the boat. We all piled in, along with all the proper refreshments, and shoved off the dock. I was excited for a nice relaxing day on the lake. The weekend was off to a bit of a chaotic start, and I needed a day to hit the reset button. Everyone else was drinking, but that was the last thing I needed. For me, the sun was all I needed to be happy. I just wanted to lay out on the back of the boat and work on my tan.

Before breaking out the tube, we drove to the far side of the lake to drop anchor and hang out in the cove. The water was smooth, and there weren’t many people out on the lake. In usual fashion, wherever CK went, so did his music. We weren’t even out of the dock before he was plugging in his music. I wasn’t opposed to music in general, but he was playing all the songs we’d heard the night before. I could also tell, Scissor Sisters weren’t exactly my friends’ cup of tea. However, this was not something I was about to engage in. I found my happy place, laid out a towel, and tried to drift off in the warmth of the sun.

When I got hot, I decided to hop in. Everyone else had already taken a dip. It was the perfect Sunday. Everyone was relaxing and just enjoying themselves. We all talked about our weekends and caught up with each other. I’ve always liked this group of friends. They all felt like my “Seinfeld” crew. On top of that, I had my man with me. That always makes me happy.

When we were all hungry, we drove to the other end of the lake to grab a few slices of pizza for lunch. When we all finished eating, we snapped a few fun and patriotic pictures on the boardwalk of the lake.

Once we all managed to digest our food, it was time to break out the tube. K was an experienced whip cracker. Everyone took turns riding the tube with a partner. It was a blast. In her usual fashion, K was relentless when I was on the tube. I think I frustrate her sometimes, and she uses that time to take all those frustrations out on me. However, I usually manage to hold on for longer than expected. That being said, she always finds a way to get me off that giant rubber floating donut.

I especially had a lot of fun riding the tube with CK. We made a great team, and my friends snapped quite a few great shots of us both. I was happy to have such a nice day after how bad our Friday night was. We really needed a nice day together.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing however. Over the course of the day, I noticed K getting frustrated with CK. She was not only the owner of the boat, but also the captain. He wasn’t listening to instructions very well. When she was ready to hit the throttle, CK was standing on the back of the boat. When she’d need to maneuver to circle back to pick someone up who fell off the tube, he was standing to change the music. I was worried we wouldn’t be invited back again. Or worse. I would be, but I wouldn’t be able to bring him back again. I asked him to be more conscientious about her directions. “Whatever she said, goes,” I added.

When we were all sufficiently exhausted, we made our way back to K’s parents’ dock. We had a bit of a drive ahead of us.

D had his new car with him since he drove separately. I had yet to be in it, so I suggested CK and I ride with him, leaving the other two to drive together. On the ride home, we all planned to hit up D, K and G’s apartment for a bar-be-cue. It would be our last hurrah of the holiday weekend before heading back to work. D dropped us off at my place, and we got ready to head over to grill up some burgers. I quickly made a pasta salad as well because I didn’t want to show up empty handed.

I wasn’t originally aware, but we were also going to meet K’s new man. He is much younger than the rest of our group, and as a result, he spent the better portion of the evening trying to impress us. That’s a surefire way for me not to be impressed. I like genuine people, not people who put on airs and say what they think I want to hear.

Dinner was nice and very relaxing. It was the perfect end of the holiday weekend. My weekend started off very crazed and chaotic, and it ended very relaxing and serene. When it was getting late, CK and I said our goodbyes and made our way back to my apartment. I agreed to spend the night in the city at his apartment, so I quickly packed a bag before we hopped on the bus.

When we got to his place, neither of us had much energy. We quickly settled into bed and mentally prepared for the workweek coming up after having quite a few days off. CK tuned into The Rachel Maddow show while I shut my eyes and tried to fall asleep in the arms of the man I loved.

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Running with Scissors

Another Fourth of July, and another night of disappointment. I’d gone to bed that night contemplating my relationship. Was I strong enough to continue to deal with this? I looked to the future and ran numerous scenarios in my head. I asked myself, “Is this worth it? Should I get off this train now before it’s a complete train-wreck?”

When we woke in the morning, we discussed what happened the night before. CK apologized. He told me he didn’t know I was so black and white on the issue. That’s when I laid it all out for him. It was not okay nor would it ever be okay. We’d had this discussion before, and I wasn’t going to continue to have it anymore. I made it clear: I wasn’t going to stand by on the issue. He had a choice to make. He took that to heart and told me he would do whatever it takes. “I love you with all my heart, and I will do anything to keep you in my life,” he added.

It appeared we were finally on the same page, and we both went to work. I had a half day at the office, so when I finished, I went home and hit up the gym. I was finally getting back into the swing of things. I’d injured my shoulder lifting in the gym months prior, so it was difficult to motivate myself to continue going when I wasn’t able to lift to my full potential. When I hopped in the pool, I was able to get back into shape with low impact on my shoulder. This was my way to finally get back in shape while my shoulder healed.

When I finished at the gym, I went home and packed a bag to head back into the city. CK, Hip and I were all going to see Scissor Sisters in concert that night. After the argument getting ready for Matinee, I asked CK ahead of time to help me come up with an outfit to wear. I didn’t want this to turn into another fight. It worked out much better this time because I was able to pack my bag with confidence. I wasn’t nearly as self-conscious as I was last time. When I was ready, I hopped on my motorcycle and made my way to Hell’s Kitchen.

When I arrived, CK and Hip were prepping a pitcher with drinks to head to the roof to share a cocktail. They both seemed a little loopy, like they’d been drinking for quite some time. We grabbed the pitcher and made our way upstairs to watch the sunset. Within a half hour, we polished off the entire pitcher. When we ran out, we made our way back downstairs. I was in a drinking mood, so Hip and I ran out to get more libations while CK hopped in the shower. We came back and mixed up another pitcher. I sat on the bed with Hip watching while CK tried on about twenty outfits and permutations of accessories.

As I watched CK while we listened to music, something about him didn’t quite to add up. He wasn’t being himself. I grew suspicious and my attention was hypersensitive. I was noticing everything. Hip put on Cedric Gervais’ Molly. The song continued asking me if I can help her find “Molly,” and I began to wonder if the two of them had already found her. When Hip handed CK something small, and he placed it in a box on his nightstand, I grew even more suspicious. Who knows what it was, but everything wasn’t adding up in my mind. Nothing I saw was concrete. But, I still couldn’t shake the notion something was up. I felt it in my gut. Were promises being broken already?

We continued getting ready for a few hours. This was all new to me. I never went to concerts and got ready with friends. I was just taking it all in. That’s when CK insisted I change my clothes. He wanted me to join in. I told him I was already wearing my outfit, but he wasn’t satisfied. He insisted I try on his jeans instead of my own. He felt they were more suitable, and I was embarrassed. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I protested, but he continued to insist I at least try on his jeans. When I couldn’t get them past my thighs I pulled them off and put a stop to the whole conversation. I was already on edge with my suspicions. I insisted I was going to continue to be myself. I had my own individuality, and I didn’t need to compromise that for him. “Are you embarrassed by me? I’m not just some Ken doll you can play dress up with,” I protested. I got dressed again and made my way to the living room. He successfully put me in a bad mood, and I was really tempted to tell him to go without me. I wasn’t looking forward to this concert at all.

I sat in the living room while they continued to get ready in the bedroom. Time was passing quickly, and it was getting later and later. I was continuing to refill my glass while I waited. I figured if I was in a bad mood, at least I could get a little drunk to put me in the proper state of intoxication for a concert. When they finally decided on an outfit and realized it was past time to go, they couldn’t locate the tickets.

I made an effort to look for the tickets with them. CK insisted he left them in a specific spot, but they were no longer there. I remembered seeing them in that spot, so it was obvious someone moved them. After being accused of moving them numerous times by CK, only to respond declaring my innocence, I decided to stop looking. I sat back and watched the frenzy. This was not my problem. I never touched the tickets, let alone having them in my possession. I didn’t even want to go to the concert at this point. First CK was insensitive about my attire, and then he insinuated I lost the tickets he misplaced.

As time passed, CK got more and more agitated to the point he started throwing things around his bedroom. His accusations became more and more pinpointed on Hip and I. He was taking no responsibility for misplacing the tickets that were in his possession. As his frustration level rose, so too did mine. I wasn’t going to stand there and take his verbal abuse when I was 100% sure of my innocence. It was clear he was intoxicated, and I wanted nothing to do with this situation. It was time for me to go home. I began to gather my things to leave when the situation got physical.

When he started to get aggressive, Hip intervened at my request because I wasn’t going to get into a shoving match. I had my fill. I wasn’t going to fight with an irrational man. I was just going to leave.

As I made my way to the door while CK got in my face and shouted hurtful things at me, Hip separated us, pulled me aside and managed to convince me to stay, but after all that, I was done. Against my better judgment, I stayed. I sat on the couch and waited for someone to find the tickets. I was in for a miserable night. Regardless of what was to come, I chalked the night up to a complete failure…

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Never-Ending Date

I’d begun an amazing date with a spectacular man, and I couldn’t wait for what was to come next. Although I had been to Frankies 570 multiple times before with multiple dates, this time was special. I had an amazing guy to share a meal with. Ironically, my meal from days prior was so good, I ordered the same the again.

Conversation over dinner we great. It flowed like water downhill. We were both very flirtatious and chatty. On many of my other dates, there were long awkward pauses, but not on this one. Everything was just so easy. When I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, he leaned in requesting a kiss first. It was incredibly sweet and adorable. I really liked this guy. He was everything I was looking for.

I was just taking extra care to make sure I didn’t get ahead of myself. I had a history of falling for guys who would hurt me or not be interested in pursuing anything further. While in the restroom, I looked in the mirror to keep myself centered. All I could do was smile at my reflection like a giddy schoolgirl.

When I returned to the table, the conversation picked back up where we left off. My hand was on his leg under the table. His body language was very positive.

Our meals came, and we shared them with each other. Both of us were very happy with our selections. When the meal ended, we agreed to order a dessert to share. We got the crème-brulee. I dug my spoon into it and fed him a spoonful. It felt incredibly romantic. He smiled as his mouth closed around the spoon. We finished dessert and began to chat about what to do next. He was dancing around what I can only assume were his true motives. He said, “We can go have more drinks.” I interjected, “I don’t want to drink anymore.” “We can drop our bags at my place and go out. We could grab Pinkberry…” he added. I cut him off at the pass saying, “You can stop dancing around it. We can go back to your place.” He immediately smiled and agreed that was the best idea.

I wasn’t thinking we were going back to his place for sex. I knew there would be making out and a lot of heavy petting, but I wasn’t planning to give it up that easily. We hopped in a cab back to his apartment. He asked if I wanted to go to the roof, and I told him I would default to him. We were on his home turf. He could run the show. I picked the bar and restaurant. It was his turn to drive. Before we got to his place, he warned me of the condition of it. He informed me he lived like a frat boy.

When we got to his place, we stopped in his apartment on our way to the roof. I didn’t think he was as bad as he let on. We began making out on the bed. This, of course, led to many other things. Slowly but surely, clothes started landing on the floor in scattered piles. Eventually, we fond ourselves naked and engaging in a myriad of sexual acts, but penetration would never occur.

He was a very passionate man. I have found it nearly impossible to find a man whose intellect, wit and sense of adventure outside the bedroom matched their passion in the bedroom. He was a diamond in the rough. I wasn’t going to let this one go without a fight.

I noticed he was very into music. It was like he needed a soundtrack. I liked it. Every minute I was learning something new about him, and it was all making me like him even more.

We never made it to the roof. We ended up passing out on top of each other’s naked body. In the middle of the night, we both woke up. It was around 2:00. He offered for me to stay. I was under the impression that was already happening. I assumed I would just stay the night. We cuddled some more, and he turned out the lights.

When we woke in the morning, things weren’t awkward at all. I felt very comfortable with him. We talked about how we didn’t have sex and how that made us both happy. We didn’t need to rush things. I mean, I was spending the night on a first date, but I was happy true sex didn’t occur. I was also thrilled he was the type of guy who would just bring that up and not keep it inside for fear of saying the wrong thing. He spoke his mind. I needed to get back to that. Being with him might help me get back to that.

He was amazing. There was no question about it. We were both starving and decided to get dressed to hunt for some breakfast. We stopped by a few places before finally settling on Jimmy’s American Grill and Bar. We grabbed a table outside and picked up the conversation where we left off the previous night.

I let my freak flag fly. I felt so free with him. I told him all about me and my idiosyncrasies. I explained my Christmas Bash and all the work I put into it. He referred to me as Martha Stewart, and I expressed my hatred for that referral. I didn’t like that my cooking and entertaining had a feminine connotation. I told him I was more the Nate Berkus type. He laughed and agreed it was a better reference. I told him about my crazy coworkers and how we would make an amazing reality show. I told him about growing up on a farm. Everything I could think of, I brought out. He loved it all! I learned about where he grew up and his career in advertising. Every word made me like him more and more. He also told me about his friends. They texted him while we were eating to ask him to come to brunch 2.0.

Somehow, we got on the topic of The Hunger Games. I was reading the books, and he had already seen the movie. I told him I was looking forward to seeing the movie. He told me he would go see it again and asked if we could go see it Sunday. You could have knocked me over with a feather. He was already planning date number two before date number one concluded. I was thrilled and immediately accepted.

He walked me to the PATH to say goodbye before heading downtown to meet his friends at Elmo. We kissed each other goodbye and gave a long lasting hug. There was a homeless man panhandling next to us who said, “Get a room,” through a smile. He began laughing, and I started to crack up since I was the one facing him. I said to my amazing date, “That made my day.” Immediately, he replied, “You made my day.” I was in heaven. I said goodbye and went down the stairs to the train.

Later, I learned from checking his Twitter that when he checked in at dinner on Foursquare, he wrote, “Easy conversation + tasty food + hot boy = great date on a Fri night (@ Frankies 570 w/ 2 others)” and the next day at brunch, “When last night’s date becomes this afternoon’s brunch date (@ Jimmy’s American Grill & Bar). He really did like me. I was just finding it hard to take. It was like a dream. I couldn’t really believe it. I didn’t want to get too excited because I didn’t want to get hurt. But, honestly, who gives a f*ck. I was happy, and that was all I cared about.

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Finally, Someone Who Knows What They’re Doing!

So far my trip was turning out to be a flop. I had on traumatic experience and an ex who tried convince me to have sex. I needed my luck to turn around.

Last time I came to San Francisco, tried to meet up with a friend of mine I met a very long time ago on manroulette.com. I’d known him for almost as long as I’d known about the site — roughly two years. We exchanged Skype names and kept in touch. I can remember having conversations with him long ago. He was a great guy who had been through a lot. My heart always went out to him when he told me his story. On top of this, he was incredibly sexy. We’d fooled around on Skype numerous times, and every time I yearned for it to be the real thing with him.

I was hoping I would finally get to live out my fantasy. I made plans with him to grab a drink Thursday night after work. He asked if I’d like to meet in The Castro, but I asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to my neighborhood in the Wharf since I trekked up there the previous night. He agreed, and I asked the concierge for a good spot to grab a drink and chat with someone. He gave me a great spot to check out two blocks away — Parlor. It was perfect. We could easily head back to my hotel room after a few drinks.

While I waited for him to get ready, I excited myself with some porn. I wanted my libido revved when I met him because I wanted to live out my fantasy completely.

When he was nearby, I made my way to the bar. There weren’t many people there. It was perfect. Good music, but quiet enough for us to chat.

When he arrived, he came up to join me at the bar, and we exchanged hugs. I was very happy to see him, and I think he was equally happy to see me.

We sat and talked for hours. He’d been seeing a therapist over the past few months, and he’d really been having some breakthroughs. He has a tough time with his family as they’re not accepting of his lifestyle “choices.” I told him my coming out story, and he was very happy I for me that I had such a supporting family.

Three beers later for each of us, and the conversation was going strong. Our conversation hit the pause button when we both heard someone at the other end of the bar making a gay comment, not in reference to us in the slightest. Our ears perked up ready to be on the offensive but there was no need. When we finished our fourth round, I asked him if he would like to come back to my hotel room. He accepted my invitation, but said he couldn’t stay too long since he had to work early the next day.

He proposed we stop for wine along the way, and I agree. He paid for the wine — He was such a Texas gentleman, even if he hadn’t lived there for years. When we got back to the room, we each finish a large glass of wine before I pounced on him. We made out for a solid fifteen minutes. I was really enjoying him. He had a great body, amazing lips, and he was a spectacular kisser. One of the best I’d ever experienced. My fantasy was on its way to reality.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. One by one I peeled off his clothes until he was naked. I took it all in with a big grin on my face. From the first time I laid eyes on his “big swinging d*ck” as I called it, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. It was beautiful, and I sure as hell had some fun with it.

He immediately went for mine and started orally pleasing me, front and backside. He was very good, but also very loud, moaning as his head bobbed up and down. This wasn’t something I was used to. I wanted to finish for him. I wanted to show him the fireworks I could set off, but I just couldn’t concentrate. After some time passed, I went to return the favor, but he stopped me. He told me he had to go because he had to be at work early the next morning.

I was so disappointed. He was really good in bed, and I needed that. I also had been looking forward to that for years now. But, I completely understood. Around midnight, he got dressed to head home. As he was leaving, he told me how great I tasted and how he wasn’t going to wash his hands or face for days. This was very dirty and very sexy. I’d never had anyone respond to my body that way before. He kept coming back for more as he made his way to the door. I could tell he didn’t want to leave, which made me happy. I was also purposely teasing him with my body, as I lay naked on the bed. I didn’t want him to go, but I still had one more night in San Francisco, which means I had one more chance to take him to bed…

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To Kiss or Be Kissed

Goodbye 2011 and all the hardship that came with it. 2011 was a tough year, and I was ready to kiss it bon voyage.

New Year’s Eve had arrived, and so did Boston. He came to New York City to celebrate with some friends. They were staying at a hotel in Hell’s Kitchen and going to a bar to ring in the new year. We’d been in close contact about meeting up while he was visiting for some time.

We made plans to meet that night before I met Smiles for dinner, however these plans would be broken. As the night’s close grew nearer, Boston realized he wouldn’t have time, so we agreed to try to meet on New Year’s Day.

Instead, I killed time spying on my neighbors across the street with my roommate before venturing into the city for the night. It appeared we’d discovered two ‘mos living over there after some close examination. However, their blinds have been drawn now for quite some time, hindering further “study.”

Smiles and I had been texting about our plan for the evening. We were going to grab dinner somewhere along the way to the party on the Lower East Side, but when he tried to make a reservation for the restaurant downstairs, he realized the difficulty that may pose. Instead he proposed to make beef stroganoff for the two of us at his apartment. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea because I was looking forward to a romantic dinner for two, but it would have to suffice. (Now you can begin to see why I hate New Years).

After we finished eating, we took a cab to the apartment. Smiles spent a good portion of it on the phone with his mother. I’d already made all my new year’s calls on the walk to Smiles’ apartment from the PATH. I didn’t want to be on my phone the rest of the night trying to call people so I got it out of the way before starting our night together. I thought what he was doing was rude. When he hung up, you could cut the tension in the cab with a knife. Neither of us had anything to talk about. The night was not off to a good start.

We arrived at the party and were greeted by a very nice gentleman who was not the host. He was one of the guys Smiles had gone to Six Flags months earlier (whom he didn’t remember without a reminder). A trip I wasn’t invited on and still bitter about. When the host emerged from the shower, Smiles volunteered to run to the corner store to get necessary supplies. Apparently he wasn’t the best of hosts (or so said Smiles). He asked if I wanted to join him or stay and made sure I was okay with staying.

I took the opportunity to get to know the guy who greeted us while I waited for Smiles to return and more guests to arrive. More people joined us in waves, and it was a pleasure to meet them all. I sat on the couch talking to one in particular for some time. He seemed like a really great guy. Later in the night, I would learn from Smiles that this guy told him how great I was after learning we were together. “He had nothing but glowing praises for you,” Smiles divulged.

A majority of the night, Smiles wasn’t paying attention to me. He was far more concerned with standing in as host. He made sure everyone had a full drink at all times, including me. I had to tell him to cool it because I was getting too drunk too fast. I don’t think he realized I was also filling my own drinks besides what he brought me. I was making plenty of conversation with a lot of the other guys at the party in the meantime. Ironically enough, we were talking about dating. I was giving some of the younger guys my “fatherly advice” from my experiences, which is absurd considering I’m out less than two years. I did all this without mentioning my blog once, no matter how much I wanted to direct them to it. Smiles was still unaware I was writing OneGayAtATime.

When the ball was about to drop, the whole crowd gathered around the TV in the host’s bedroom. Smiles asked if I wanted to pile in, but I told him my lack of interest in watching the ball drop. We huddled by the door as Smiles snapped pictures of the group from the doorway. When 2012 arrived, he turned to me and laid a nice kiss on me. When he pulled back, he went in a second time. It was one of his better kisses and it was sweet, but I’m not sure it could make up for the lack of attention I received all night. It was like we were at the same party, but we certainly weren’t together.

As I talked to the other guys, I felt like I was revealing a big secret that Smiles and I were dating. No one knew, and it was as if I was letting the cat out of the bag. I felt uncomfortable about that.

The music came up and the furniture was pushed aside. The living room was now a dance floor. Smiles and I have never gone out dancing together, so I was relishing the opportunity to have a little fun with him. I started dancing with him, and he started laughing at me. It wasn’t completely insulting, but it was also a slightly belittling. I think I was making him uncomfortable (and I am not a bad dancer by any means!).

When I went to refill my drink, Smiles was in the middle of the group dancing up a storm just as I’d seen him bust a move in Central Park. I was hurt. He didn’t want to dance with me, but he did want to dance with everyone else. When I looked down, my cup had only ice in it. So I made the conscious decision to drink away my sorrows. Johnny Walker Black and I huddled in the kitchen and had a good time together.

When someone asked if I wanted to go smoke on the balcony, I jumped at the opportunity. When I got out there, there was a small group including the guy who told Smiles how great I was.

This is where the night gets foggy. There was a guy who was late to the party who was fawning all over me from that point on. He told me I was gorgeous and paid me more compliments than I can remember. I vaguely remember pointing out to him that I was dating Smiles, but that didn’t stop him. He kept laying it on thick.

From that night, the next thing I remember was walking home behind him p*ssed because I was chasing after him. We weren’t walking together. I was walking about ten paces behind him.

Smiles woke me in the morning. I was naked, so I knew we had sex, and I had an uncomfortable moist feeling between my cheeks, so I knew I was the bottom. I thought back and could remember flashes of sex from the night before, but I couldn’t remember anything about leaving the party.

After I searched for my underwear and my dignity, neither of which I could find without assistance, I picked up my phone to check messages. Apparently in my drunken stupor, I wiped out my phone trying to get into it too many times with a failed password. It was back to factory settings.

I told Smiles, and he recounted the walk home. It involved me arguing profusely that we were headed in the wrong direction (Isn’t that ironic). It involved me tapping a French woman on the shoulder and welcoming her to the country. And it involved Smiles being annoyed by my antics.

“And I haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” he added.

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