...And Then We Went To My Place To Read The Bible.

Ay ay ay...what a weekend. I feel like I type that phrase a lot, and I truly do aspire to the moment when I won't anymore. Because life in the fast lane is HARD for this recovering couch potato!

Friday night I had a second date with someone new; we'll call him Navy Guy. We went to a club/lounge in the City (yes- I actually left the comforts of Brooklyn and ventured back to the Manhattan nightlife!) that was actually really nice and kinda fun, with all the swank of what you'd imagine a City lounge would have and only 30% of the pretension. Actually maybe more like 40%...2 drinks came to a whopping $30; don't even get me started...

So Navy Guy is a taaaallllll drink of dark chocolate with beautifully brown bedroom eyes and- Jesus help me!- sexy tattooed arms. And when I say tattooed I mean TATTOOED, like lots of them, like enough to make my head spin. And when I say sexy I mean S-E-X-Y, like he could be in one of those calendars where the dudes are topless, in a waterfall, looking really hard at something in the distance.

But let me not give you the impression that he was just eye candy, because I know I have a bit of a rep for only wanting eye candy. We've had a few nice conversations before this and our first date, and actually had a nice chance to talk at the lounge in the roof section (which had a really nice view of the Empire State Building...such a perfect NY moment!). So it was like a real date.

I learned some more about his past (yes, Jack, I will give you the details as soon as you get back online!) and he of mine, and I found out that he's not much of a drinker because a couple of Ice Teas nearly knocked his ass out. But that's okay; contrary to popular belief I don't always have to drink. I can adjust to the speed of whomever I'm with at the moment.

We danced, drank, danced, joked on some people of the drunk variety (especially some dude who decided he was a Chippendale's dancer and took off his shirt!) and danced some more. And in the midst of all that I made note of the fact that 1) he smelled really, really nice, 2) I'm a little shyer than I let on and 3) he's a really good kisser. Like feel it in your everywhere good kisser.

Saturday, I blew off a brunch date to just sleep off my date and bask a bit in the really good night (and morning) I'd just had, eat some Indian food and enjoy a bit of a smoke in the comfort and privacy of my nice, clean and empty apartment. And because I had another date later on that evening.

That date was with someone I met about a month ago at the Sean Paul concert (along with a female I had assumed was his girlfriend) whom we'll call SVA Guy. I can't say that I was particularly attracted to him on first meeting- he's not hideous or anything, just didn't see him that way, but we'd had a couple of conversations and he seemed like an interesting person. So I agreed to meet him for a couple of drinks in The Village.

I know what you're thinking, but no, just because I spent the entire weekend partying in Manhattan it DOES NOT mean that I've abandoned Brooklyn, no way, Jose! Just, you know, a little change of pace every now and then does a body good.

We had a couple of drinks at a place on Sullivan Street (damn that place reminds me of the 90's!!) among the oh-so-annoying NYU crowd, and then moved on to a bar on the East Side that made really good french fries in the wee hours of the night/morning. The conversation was of the getting-to-know-you variety, nothing out of the ordinary, and he revealed that in a previous life (read: just a few years ago) he worked in the Hollywood scene, and I immediately asked if he'd ever met my sweet love, JC. But alas, no, he said he was never fortunate enough to have made John's acquaintance. And no, he didn't put it like that, but he should have.

I have to give him points, though, because I laid all my crazy out on the table, as I like to do as a test to see who's strong/cool/worthy enough to earn my friendship, and he was not plussed. Kudos to him.

Come Sunday, though, I have to admit, the drinking, etc, from this weekend just took its toll on me and I had to cancel my meditation date with Lani (who was not too heartbroken about it, either...what were YOU up to, Missy!?!?). Instead I just crashed HARD on my couch some time in the afternoon in the middle of last week's episode of Brothers and Sisters.

Did either of these dates end in junglistic, sweaty, orgasmic good times? A lady never tells. And neither do I.

But I will tell you this much, and I know I say this a lot, but for real this time: I'm getting too old for this shyt! My next free weekend, man, I'm just going to stay home, watch a JC movie marathon and knit myself a nice winter scarf!!!

*smooches...for the 200th time!!!*
-----------
...That flash, where white
Lets black get close, that dagger of not-quite contact,
Catspaw panic, quiver on the wheat
Field before thunder -
There. That's it. That's her own self, in paint, Splitting what she was from what she is. As if everything that separates, unites.