Long weekend, long post

Wednesday turned to Thursday, and then the weekend began, so here's a recap:

When last I wrote, I was on my way out to drop off a package to a client, and in the process of doing so, my 50% Accurate-Reverse-Sense-of-Direction took over. Although I had a map, and directions from the internet, at a critical moment in the trip, I went left instead of right. At the point of taking the turn, I had a feeling it was wrong, so I called up CK, because: he lives close to where I was, happens to drive everywhere for his job, and to my knowledge has never gotten lost. He talked me to my client's apartment, and then I called him back on the way home to pass the time while driving. Between his cell dying from low battery, and mine conking out as I passed a signaling tower, it was a few calls, but I made it home safe. If there is anything I fear, it's falling asleep while driving and dying in a steaming, smoking, bloody, oily wreck.

I had thought I had made plans to hang out with the comic book guy on Thursday to watch the Wings play, but over the course of a phone call to confirm things, it turned into me feeling like I was inviting myself over and intruding on a night at his house with his friends playing cards. I did end up staying after the others had left, sitting on the couch, waiting for him to return from driving them and reading a magazine. Maybe I should've left when they did, but I stayed to try to figure out why I keep seeing him, when I don't think he's ready to date anyone, and I'm not willing to wait until he is. The biggest clues that it's not going anywhere fast? After more than 2 months of dating, he shows no inclination towards the bedroom (not that I'd go), and I'm still answering my cell phone while we're alone.

Friday night, the debauchery began... well, what amounts to debauchery these days. The lovely and talented Megs and her band, Red Eye Groove performed at the Hamlin Pub in Rochester; an establishment I've gotten to know over the past few months since 7venth Son plays there the odd Thursday and some weekend nights as well. I arrived a little before midnight, as I'd worked a bachelorette party earlier and changed clothes while driving - yet another reason I fear dying in my vehicle, I'm not the brightest crayon in the box sometimes. Megs informed me that not one, but two of her adoring fans had asked her if I'd be there that night, and were pleased when she assured them, multiple times, that I would be. Both of these fine men paid fair amounts of attention to me, and I enjoyed that very much. At the end of the night, another young stud approached the both of us and struck up a conversation about music (give Psyopus a listen if you're grindcore inclined). I wasn't sure what the plan was, so I chatted and smiled, and when Megs came back from talking to the manager and getting the business taken care of, we went to breakfast.

A quick digression: going to breakfast is one of my favorite things to do with a big group of people after a long night of partying. Seeing everyone in the bright lights of a restaurant while you're half-smashed and trying to keep food down and figure out who's going home with who is loads of fun. Anyway, that particular evening, it turned out to be just Megs, myself, and a guy who's asked to see her socially. No big story there, and I drove home alone to unpack my totes and check inventory while inputting orders and taking care of business. I fell asleep at sunrise... just about perfect.

Saturday was Meg's night off from performing this weekend, and the mission was to promote her next show in two weeks at the House of Shamrocks while meeting up with a few friends and possibly find her a boytoy or two. My wardrobe choice for the evening didn't quite pass, so she lent me a nicer tank top and we rolled to the first bar, got there in time to not have to pay cover, carried on a bit, and moved on, because the men there were either old, attached, or not approach-worthy. The next place was a bit more of the same, but Megs is close friends with the lead singer of the band playing there, so we sat around & had a few, flirted with the hunky bartender, and I managed to meet 3 guys who have promised to attend the show in 2 weeks, while Megs got the phone number of a very nicely built man who's name escapes me.

What held my attention most that night was the texting conversation I'd begun with a recent lust interest. He had promised to go to a somewhat underground party in a seedier part of town than Megs was comfortable going to, so I drove her home and promised to call her and let her know I was ok if I went. Heh, "if"... Anyway, I did go, since he'd sent me directions, I parked, paid the exhorbitant cover charge, and walked right in. Here is where a long story would begin, but I'm keeping most of the details to myself. Suffice it to say that we were attached at the face the remainder of the night, and I woke at 9am, fully dressed, on what I was told was a filthy couch in a mostly empty warehouse. This type of thing is why he's quickly becoming known to my friends as the "Adventure Sex" guy.

So that brings me to Sunday, driving home still a bit tired, and got a call from Liz, who needed breakfast and a place to print off some 30 pages of text for a class she has. Not a problem, considering how I love breakfast, and I have a printer just sitting there, already attached to the internet and begging to be used right here in my bedroom. I got showered, dressed, and out the door in a little over an hour and a half, moving slowly because of the accumulated alcohol in my system and no real sense of urgency. No makeup, barely brushed hair, but my Wings jersey was clean, and I was looking forward to seeing that same lust interest again, and his new living quarters that he'd just moved into the day before. A good day began with a western omelette and a quick nap while Liz printed out her reading materials, and I was out the door yet again.

It turns out that the "Adventure Sex" guy will be living in the home of a man who has shared custody of his sons (I'm not actually sure if there are 2 or 3 of them), and is in a nifty section of a suburb pretty close to civilization with lots of places to go and stuff to do. Living there is an improvement from his prior situation, as it includes a larger room and full use of a hottub once it gets delivered. All of this I found out while spending the day over there, and into the evening we watched an awful Dolph Lundgren movie (redundant?), episodes of Reno 911, and Apocalypto. That last flick... holy cow, way disturbing. I'm talking mood killing, stomach churning, I-can't-look horrific. I suppose it was a good film if that's your cup of tea, but, damn, it's hard to get frisky in the dark when there's human sacrifice onscreen.

I woke up around 8am, realizing that James has begun his new job today, and I need to get moving on the way ahead without him. For all the fun that the past few months have been, this next weekend needs to be my last irresponsible jaunt for a while. Steady work, taking care of my son, and a minimum of destructive behavior need to replace the sleep-deprived wild weekends and weekdays spent in bed. After Vegas, anyway... Memorial Day in Vegas... with HoV... it's going to be out of hand.