Black Bieber: I'm a Blieber?

My life in the last couple months has been in shambles (more than usual, jerks) and I use my weekends as my time to let loose on a lot of the frustrations I have. My wonderful friends have been supportive and have let me crash on their couches and in their beds (mostly girls...mostly...). This past weekend was no different though it was a bit more shamble-y than normal. On Friday I found myself enticed with Black Bieber, and I am not really ashamed.

(ok...maybe I'm a little ashamed...)

I'd like to first provide you with a little context of how I met Black Bieber and how this night came about. Full disclosure....I have a girlfriend. I know, I know it's shocking. How can this flaming homosexual have a girlfriend? How does she not know he is gay? IS there something wrong with her? Well, to sort of answer that,  she is one of my original friends from college and we became a couple in a moment that I remember vividly, and she remembers in theory. It was a August 27th, 2007 and we had just moved into our residence hall at UMD. It was 1:30am when there was a knock at my door and there was girlfriend and her roommate, mistress (this will make sense in a minute... actually, it won't but whatevs) completely and totally drunk. 

mistress: We like that you are gay

girlfriend: I want you to be my gay boyfriend

mistress: And I want to be your mistress

Me: Doesn't sound like I have much of a choice do I?

girlfriend: Nope, not really *Lunges forward and kisses me*

*mistress then lunges forward and full on makes out with me*

And ever since then girlfriend and I have celebrated our month anniversaries as little accomplishments. It's sad that this is the longest and healthiest relationship either one of us has ever been in. (I know, I know its a shocker...maybe I should have "chosen" to be straight. I seem to be more successful...) This past Friday was our 56th month anniversary and we decided to celebrate it the best way we know how...with drinks at a gay sports bar followed up by dancing at a gay club. (girlfriend is secretly a gay man on the inside, she prefers to hit up ze gay bars. This may be why she is single, verdict is still out on why I am still single....ok, ok we all obviously know why I am still single, rude.)

We had dinner at Nellie's (the gay sports bar in DC where I am 90% certain no one gives a fuck about the sports on the screens. They are there for "kitschy" decorations, which is a stereotype I embrace) with an old friend from college to catch up. It was a fairly long dinner where shots were taken and men were stared at. At the end of dinner I was exhausted and girlfriend and I were both yawning, but I had promised some of my gay DC friends I'd make an appearance at a birthday party down the street and I am nothing if not a people pleaser. 

When we got there we were immediately ushered over to the drinks table and my friend Erik made me the strongest drink known to man and convinced us to make our way back to Nellies for a drank. I was so tired and wanted to go back home and sleep, but I felt obligated to go at least for one drink. (I know, shocker, I feel obligated to drink.) In my mind I kept saying to myself: 

I had to get my shit together so I could show girlfriend a night full of glitter, rainbows, and happiness. When we got to Nellie's we ordered a drink and a shot and I decided to put my head into the game and work it out. I was always told not to be a quitter (I am not sure my parents meant this for drinking, but at least I am applying the things I learned. baby steps...) When everyone decided to go to Town (big, gay, sweaty dance bar) we decided our night had not run its course yet and went along with them. As soon as we got in we grabbed drinks and listened to a little Britney Spears. After getting a little liquored up we made our way upstairs to the main dance area. It was packed and we were finally in the right state to be up there. We found our friends and began dancing our hearts out. 

Slowly we started noticing our friends disappearing and before long it was just the two of us surrounded by a sea of men and some women. (haha...seamen..semen...haha I'm 12) girlfriend was hit on multiple times by various lesbians tryna get a little piece of her Armenian lovin'. Like any good friend she wasn't focused on making a lesbian connection, we were focused on each other and the beats that were taking over our bodies. And then it happened, a gorgeous 6'2" black man walked up to girlfriend and began talking to her. 

GB(gorgeous black man): Hey are you two....together?

girlfriend: Nope just friends dancing

GB: Do you mind if I step in and dance with him?

Without words girlfriend started to walk away and letting him know that it was a-okay to dance with me. My heart stopped. I wasn't able to process everything that was going on. He sauntered closer to me and we began dancing furiously to the beat and holding each other closer and closer, both a little hot and bothered in this room that had become a sauna. And then....then he kissed me. 

Maybe because I have been on so many dates with white dudes recently, but this felt like home. The saying is true...once you go black, you don't go back. It just felt right. Obviously, the classy guy that I am, I danced and macked it with him for awhile before thinking about checking on girlfriend, who had so graciously sacrificed herself so I could get a little lovin'. Just as I turn around I find her dancing with an attractive, shirtless, black man. Turns out he is GB's friend who had been really into girlfriend. (Is this really happening? Is this random night turning into a love connection? IS HE GOING TO BE MY BOYFRIEND???? i have issues I need to work through obviously....)

After a little bit more mackin' it GB  told me he had to go to the bathroom with his friend and he didn't want me to leave (so sweet, our first date is turning out so great! shhh, just let me have this) He gave me his number just in case I couldn't find him. (omgz its so serious guyz! preppin' to meet the fam next where they tell me I am what GB has needed for so long) girlfriend and I gab about the hotties we have bagged and how wonderful and glittery this night has been. How stupid were we to think that we should have gone to sleep instead of going out and meeting my husband! (yup...marriage is always on the mind. suck it) 

When they got back, the two gorgeous men pulled us up on stage and I started immediately mackin' it with GB so everyone in the club would know the man I was with. (I felt like a dog peeing on a house..this is MY man bitches, get in line! muhahaha) I decided at this point it may be a good idea to find out a few of the essentials...like his name.

Me: Sooo do you live around here?

GB: Oh, uh, yeah kinda. Not far. 

Me: Cool, so interesting! What do you do for a living? Are you an accountant, financial advisor, work for the government? (I had decided he worked as a lobbyist on the hill...)

GB: Uh well I am in school right now. Just studying away!

Me: Thats cool too, some people take some extra time to graduate. Are you a fifth or sixth year senior? Not that it matters! (I had now decided he was supporting his whole family while going to school! So noble! )

GB: Nope I go to community college, its my first year *Kisses me before I can say anything*

Me: Did you just get a late start to school? I know a lot of people who go back later. (I had now decided he had tried to start his own business when he left h.s. and that to make it a bigger business he wanted to get a college degree....so many excuses)

GB: Errr..no. I didn't take any time off

Me: Sooooo.....how old are you?

GB: My friend and I are both 18.

WHAAAAATTTTTTTT?!?!?! Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!! This isn't happening to me! It can't happen! I'm dying. This is what death feels like. I finally find an attractive, beautiful, black man and he is 18. I am almost 6 years older than him. I felt dirty. I felt wronged. I felt like the end of the world had just happened. I pulled on his hand and saw massive "X's" and I couldn't begin to process these emotions. Luckily for me GB and his shirtless friend needed to go to the bathroom, again telling me not to go anywhere. I turned to girlfriend and told her of our predicament, and do you know what she did? Do you know how she handled my heartbreak? She laughed. A lot. A loud hardy laugh. And kept saying "At least I didn't make out with mine" RUDE. We bolted out of the club before they got back and immediately got into a cab. On the way home we discussed all the reasons why this age difference was wrong.

1. When we entered college, they were entering 7th grade

2. When we were having our first drinks, they were discussing the SAT's

3. A majority of photos in this post won't make sense to them 

4. By the time they could legally drink, we will be closer to 30 than I'd like to admit

5. They probably know all the teletubby names 

6. THEY WERE BORN IN THE MID-90s

girlfriend just kept repeating that I had found my Black Bieber. And I will admit, if this tall attractive black man had been a multi-millionaire, my list of reasons why it shouldn't happen would go out the door. BUT, thats not what happened and instead I am left feeling like "To Catch a Predator" is waiting outside my door at all times. 

(This is the photo we left for the cabby on our way home...)

Fabulously Lost: Heartbroken and possibly wanted by Chris Hansen 

girlfriend: Still my only healthy relationship

Black Bieber: Too hot too trot, and still 18

Town: Where my dignity might be in the lost and found 

Mickey Mouse Club: Adult Edition

I don't know if you have been following or not, but I have gone on quite a few dates with people that seem to resemble cartoon or t.v. characters in some way or another. There was the man who walked exactly like Betty Boop, and the wealthy but cheap Dr. Chandler Bing, and most recently the beloved Harry Potter half-giant Hagird. Maybe it's because I have this incessant need to date all the fictional characters I have loved over the years or maybe its because I am just that blind when it comes to finding love, but this story is no different from the others.

I sometimes wonder if I will forever be stuck in a cycle of singledom because of the peculiar choices I make in men. I have a very set and defined list of things that I would like to have from a man, yet it seems that I am the first person to throw that list out the door when it comes time to actually go on a date. I was messaging probably 10 or so guys between OkCupid and Grindr, where I was sheepishly looking for male attention and a free meal. This was before I was off Grindr (for the billionth time) which I promised all of you I was going to stay off of because I am not trying to be a hooker anymore (ok, ok, if I am going to be honest...I am back on Grindr. Not by choice. I was forced...by loneliness, such a biatch). 

I decided to settle on a nice gentleman with glasses who worked in a cubicle in College Park. He was a year older than me and seemed to be cute and clever and witty through online messaging. I was trying not to get myself hyped up about him, since I had been on quite a few duds before, but it was hard since he seemed so great.

One of the big tellers of what a person is going to be like, for me at least, is the restaurant they choose for us to go to. A solid 90% of the time I end up telling a person that I want them to pick out their favorite restaurant because you really can tell a lot about a person by this. Unfortunately, I never listen to the warning signs and I walk into horrific dining situations all the time. This fine gentleman chose Olive Garden as his favorite restaurant, which is a warning sign in my mind. Coming from a partially Italian family who knows how to cook, Olive Garden is a place where families go when they are going through a rough patch at home...not a place to connect or make a love connection.

Obviously I ignored this warning and showed up to the date about 10min early. I always like to show up early so I can scope out the scene around where the date is happening. (I needz to know my escape routes in case this guy is an axe murderer or I'd like to jump off the highest building to end the date). I get a text about five minutes into the date that he is going to be about 30min late. Now here is the question I sat and asked myself, did he mean he was going to be 30min late from when he texted or 30min late from the start of the date? I thought about this for a solid 45min until he actually showed up for the date (You can do the math on that one sparky).

When he did show up he looked like he was the before photo from the obviously airbrushed photos he had posted on his profile. Then he opened his mouth....and out came what I can only describe as a Mickey Mouse type squeal. Now I am not sitting here saying that I am the most masculine guy in the world and I certainly have a case of gay voice, but I know that when I talk I am not shattering glass around me. It took every once of will power I had not to show some sort of discomfort when he talked, but I am pretty sure I ended up looking constipated. (you win some, you lose some, yet my constipated face was still cuter than that sound.) 

We ended up getting a table right away, since it was now close to 9pm and most families who had come here had reconnected and are at home watching ABC Family. (I wish I was with them watching Pretty Little Liars...get on my level if you don't know what that is.#thisiswhyimsingle). Mickey Mouse seemed to be unaware of his cartoonish voice and was extremely talkative from the get go. He also seemed to be very comfortable with me because he delved into some serious issues really early on.

Mickey: Do you have a big family? Are you close with them?
Me: I have 2 brothers and a bunch of cousins. I'm pretty close with all of them! What about you?
Mickey: Well, I used to be close with my parents and sister, but then I came out and they kicked me out. My sister doesn't talk to me anymore except through random text messages telling me I am going to hell. 
Me: Omg, that's awful. I'm really sorry...
Mickey: Oh its okay, I'm sure it will all blow over. I am hoping for a boyfriend to show them I am stable. Maybe you will be the first guy I bring home?!
Me: Wow, uh well this is our first date! Lets see how things go before we meet the family.
Mickey: Totally makes sense, your family sounds great. That's my other hope, that I meet someone who has a close family and adopts me. You seem to have that kind of family!


Whooaaaa, he just married my family. Like literally, this man and I have been on a date for a solid 20min and he has committed to marrying my family and bringing me over to his family to fix their relationship. Also, he kept saying I have a great family, all I told him about my family was how many brothers I have and that I am "pretty close to all of them." I am well aware of how wonderful my family is, but I haven't told this person about any of this. For all he knows we could all be into Satanism and have a cult farm in Utah. I could be the child of polygamists where I don't really know who my mom is, but I've got an inkling who it is because one of my "moms" seems to favor me by giving me easier chores. (this is what I was thinking about as he rambled about his life issues...I've got an active imagination. My mother said its endearing. Ughhh, you guys make me judge myself)


Mickey: Yeah, so I don't have a college degree because they kicked me out before my last semester and cut me off. 
Me: That's terrible. Where did you go?
Mickey: I work a dead-end job and I live in the basement of this persons house not too far from here. But I can have guests over whenever I want! 
Me: Uhhh...err....thats nice? Do you like it there?
Mickey: I like the rent, the people are fairly old so I can't go crazy with partying. But I gave drinking up because I tend to get out of hand. No need to get arrested again. 
Me: Arrested? When were you arrested?
Mickey: Oh, for being too drunk in public! They put me in the drunk tank, it's not on my record so its not a big deal. 


Holy crap ballz. This man's life is a wreck. At this point I was more concerned for his well being then getting into his pants (which is a fairly big deal for me...looking for love can get stagnant! Gotta stay sustained somehow. WHATEVER....I get it...I'm a hooker. Rude.) I literally wanted to hug him and tell him it would be alright. Mickey sure knew how to mask his vocal issues by pouring his heart and soul out onto the table for me.

As I mentioned earlier, I am normally looking for a free meal on these dates, but due to the circumstances I paid for the dinner. He felt bad so he offered for me to come back to his place (since he can have people over whenever he wants!), but I politely declined the invitation to go to the Mickey Mouse club and bid him adieu. We stayed Facebook friends for over a year with him randomly commenting on my status', until I found out last week that he had defriended me. I felt a pang of rejection...because when you are no longer attached through Facebook...you are truly no longer friends.


Fabulously Lost: Out $50 bucks, and in need of more therapy
Mickey Mouse: Not your happy-go-lucky mouse
Olive Garden: When you're there, you have mediocre food with some bangin' breadsticks
My Family: Not into Satanism or in a cult....yet. Also not polygamist...to my knowledge

Harry Potter in Shambles

Most of my close friends are aware of my odd fascination with most things Harry Potter related. What I really mean by "odd fascination" is that I tend to try and fit anything HP related into my daily conversation. I think this is a normal thing, but I have been told that I should hide that type of crazy from most people until several dates in. (Other "odd fascinations" I have include, and are not limited to, '90s teen bop music, '00s teen bop music, '10s teen bop music {Shut it...Selena speaks to me], and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. And Britney.) Whenever I thought about which HP character I would end up with I, along with most human beings, imagined I would date Harry or Ron or even Malfoy (loves me a good bad boy. he's a fixer-upper.) I never in a million years thought I would end up on a date with Hagrid.

Now, my Hagrid (it bothers me that I can say "my Hagrid" forever and for always...), wasn't as hairy as the mythical friendly half giant that lived on the grounds of Hogwarts, but he wasn't too far off. This gentleman began messaging me over OkCupid and seemed decent enough. I had gone on a string of bad dates with people that had fit my "type" (which means they were black.) and decided that I needed to branch out and date people who were outside of my "type" (which means non-black). This was mistake #1.This seemed logical enough for me and gave me new found hope that I was supposed to find someone who I wasn't conventionally attracted to and that we would find love in each other because of our differences!

Hagrid worked locally at a restaurant and was 27 years old. He was 6' 4", had some light scruff, and only had face pics on the site. (this generally means he has something to hide, but as we know...I'm a desperate daisy and tend to forgo any warnings) He didn't delve into exactly what he did at the restaurant but he did say that he loved where he worked because of the regulars. This should have been seen as a red flag, but instead I saw this as him being a friendly guy who enjoyed getting to know the patrons of the restaurant he owned. (Notice what I did there...he said he worked at a restaurant and I convinced myself he owned it. #crazypartyof1) Hagrid told me he wanted me to come to his restaurant where he worked for our first date, but I decided I wanted to be treated like the gem that I am and wanted to go to his favorite restaurant in his neighborhood in Baltimore. This was mistake #2.

When I arrived at the "restaurant" that he chose as his favorite in his neighborhood, I should have probably turned around and left but I didn't. This was mistake #3. The outside of the bar looked like it was made of wood that scavenged from an old dirty pirate ship. The neon sign was like the little sign that could, flickering every so often to let you know they were O-EN.  There was also one window on the first floor and it was blacked out. I decided that this was just "rustic charm" and tried to give this dive a chance. 

Hagrid was sitting there at the end of the bar when I walked in and his "scruff" was a full fledged beard and when he stood up, he not only towered over me, but he was twice the weight of me (and I am no tiny duckling). Instead of the normal handshake to say hello, he engulfed me in a hug...and smushed my face into his beard nest thing. Not running away at this point was mistake #4

Hagrid: You look just like I thought you would! I hope you like my choice, I'm a regular here.

(There he goes again with the "regulars"....)

Me: You look...just like....you. This is an interesting place...do they have good food/drink specials. 

Hagrid: Well I wouldn't say they have good food, but the chef knows how to heat up a good burger. 

Ummm he knows how to heat up a good burger? What the hell does that mean? This is a restaurant shouldn't they be cooking the burgers fresh? Shouldn't it be a specialty since that is standard bar food?? WHERE THE HELL AM I?!?!

Me: Well it sounds like you know a good burger...what are their drink specials

Hagrid: Beer

Me: Oh nice, uh..err...do they have anything else?

Hagird: I'd stick to the beer

Me: So I guess I don't really need to look at the menu do I? (mistake #5)

Hagrid: That's the spirit! I knew you'd like this place.  I hate sissy fem gays who can't handle a little roughness around the edge. 

So... I don't think about myself as a "sissy fem gay" but I also like the finer things in life. My family never taught me how to camp and I like new clothes and nice restaurants and being treated well and staying in hote....ok so I might be a little bit of a "sissy". (who the hell cares. Suck it judgers) On the same token, I loves me a good dive bar because they tend to have good greasy food and cheap drinks. This place just looked like it was mice infested and hadn't been cleaned since the mid-1800s. I let him do all of the ordering because I couldn't understand the garbling of the bartender when she came up to us. She looked like a cross between and amazon woman and a yeti. Impeccable english.

(This is a real painting. All I had to type in was "Yeti Woman" and soooo many pictures came up. people are weird)

 We tried to make small talk about everything and anything and slowly began to realize we had very little in common.

Hagrid: Do you like dogs?
Me: Yeah, I didn't grow up with dogs but I like the idea of small to medium sized dogs. My bffl has a boxer that I'm in love with
Hagrid: Oh...I have a great dane. He is kinda unruly, like me! 
Me: Ha..ha..thats cool. What do you like to do for fun on the weekends?
Hagrid: I work most weekends at the restaurant, so I don't have a lot of time to hang out. 
Me: Right! What kinda restaurant is it?
Hagrid: It's actually almost exactly like this place a few streets over...its owned by the same guy!
Me: *shudders* Fun....so what do you do there? (mistake #6)
Hagrid: Well I was a bartender, but I drink too much sometimes so I was demoted to bar back. He can't fire me though cause I blew him once. He's afraid I'll tell his wife. *begins a hearty bellowing of a laugh that almost knocks over our "beers"*

As you can see, we have very little in common. For starters, our dog choices are not compatible. While this seems minor in this very moment you have to remember that I am on the search for long term lovin'. This means that if he prefers bigger dogs, later in life (Not that we would EVER get there) he would want a big dog. I have no urge to have my kids learning to horseback ride on our dog. Second, he works most weekends because he is a bar back. I work during the week and usually use my weekend for "extracurricular activities." Finally, I have no issue with his job choice or that he works at a bar that looks like you get herpes from sitting in it, but that he is proud of his job security due to blowing the owner at one point in time.

The really 'effed up part of this (disturbed that we haven't reached the effed up part yet? ME TOO)  is that after we awkwardly finished out food (and by finished I mean I pushed around the charred circle that resembled what used to be a burger) Hagrid asked me if I was okay walking him back to his place....and...I...said...yes. HOLD YOUR HORSES. I had no intention of going back to his place for hanky panky, but I was intrigued by the adventure of seeing where a half-giant lives. (I hear you judging me. I feel it with your eyes. That's just rude. Can't a guy just walk a giant home?) This is mistake #7.


Anywhoz, what I saw there is something that both shocked me and left my jaw dropped for days. Hagrid opened the door to his Baltimore row home and let me into what looked like the island of misfit...well...misfit everything. As soon as I walked in there was artwork on the wall that was large and in charge and had pizza smeared on it. I could tell it was pizza because there was a slice stuck to it in the top right hand corner.

Hagrid: We had a party that was a little wild 
Me: Oh wow, is it like an after work thing on the weekends?
Hagrid: Uhh...no it was like a Monday? I don't know, whatever the first Monday of the month was.


Nowwwww, we were closing in on the beginning of December, so this Pizza Artwork had been left on the wall for almost a month. But WAIT...it gets better! We moved past this Picasso and moved onto the living room where clothing made up what should be where a carpet was. Men's, women's, and children's clothing was strewn about. (Did you squint at that for a second? Did I just say children's clothing? Yup, yup I did) I also saw random children's toys laying all over the place and began to question what I had gotten myself into and just as I turned towards the door I was almost completely knocked over by a massive furry bear of an animal.

Hagrid: DOWN NICKELBACK! GET DOWN! 


You'd think I'd be startled by this stampeding elephant dog but, in reality, my mind immediately went to the fact that his dog was named after Nickelback, the widely hated American rock band. Not only did I find this a dumb name for an animal, but I also was appalled because I don't like this band and I have never found their songs (which all sound the same) all that exciting or great.

Me: Did you say your whale dog's name was Nickelback?
Hagrid: Yeah, they are the greatest band of all time. I have a tattoo dedicated to them on my body, you'll see it later if you're a good boy. *winks*
Me: I think I'll pass, I generally don't need rewards for being a good person. Why the hell are their children's toys and clothing everywhere?
Hagrid: Um, they're my roommates sons clothing. You remember the bartender from the bar we ate at? I live with her and her 3 year old son. Don't worry, when we have parties he stays at his grandma's down the road. 


Yup, he calmed my nerves. Hagrid let me know that the child is  not around for their pizza slinging, wolly mammoth stomping, incoherent garbling, beer guzzling parties. I am now completely comfortable with the situation I have gotten myself into, THANKS for that Hagrid. It was at this point, and only now, did I feel that I was ready to leave. As I walked towards the door I could hear him following me to let me out. I turned around to the most surprising event of the evening. This was the final mistake, mistake #8.


Hagrid lifted me off the ground, put me against the wall and planted a kiss on a majority of my face with his giant man bearded lips. I felt like my head was being taken over in an alien death kiss as my feet wiggled in the air. After what seemed like eons, he put me back on the ground.

Hagrid: I have wanted to do that all night. You have nice lips
Me: Uh, well I think I should go.
Hagird: If you ever wanna go out again, let me know. I can get you free drinks at the bar...if my boss isn't there. 


I, as I know it must surprise you, did not take him up on this kind offer. I cut down the beanstalk, sans any golden eggs, and never saw the giant again.

Internet Dating; Infinity
Fabulously Lost: Curbing Harry Potter Fantasies
Mistakes: Blatantly obvious to everyone but me
Voldemort: He won this battle.

Gay Mecca

You may be asking yourself where I have been over the last couple of weeks and why I haven't been as active. I wish I could say it was because I was on safari in Africa or because I was promoted to some amazing position and I had no time for silly things like this. In reality its because I moved home, had an existential crisis, went to San Francisco, and began working a horrific shift at work. Now this may sound depressing, but in actuality it...it...well, yes, it is kinda depressing but I am a fairly upbeat person, so I am looking at the silver lining, I am still single and ready to mingle! (this also sounds depressing...) So I can write about my love life for a little longer!

So I mentioned that I had the pleasure of going to San Francisco for a work trip a couple weeks ago, which also happened to be my first time in this Gay Mecca. To be honest I went into this expecting to see Rainbows on every street corner and for it to sound weird for people to go to "straight bars." I was surprised when I didn't find this upon entry of the city, but I did fall in love twice while on this 4 day trip. (I move quickly on the west coast apparently).

My co-worker and I flew out of Baltimore on the Thursday, which turned out to be one of the worst flights ever. We boarded Southwest, which is known for their friendly flight attendants and....and...welp, that's about all they are known for and that's all we got. We both checked in rather late for the flight, ensuring that we would be forced to awkwardly sit in the middle seat for our 6 hour flight to LA. As I got on the plane I prayed for a lone isle or window seat (I actually looked to the sky and asked little baby Jesus for this), but was unfortunate enough to sit next to two tragically awkward, but nice people.

As you all might have gathered in the past, I tend to have a fairly addictive personality and when I find something or someone I love, I generally cannot get enough of it. Several days prior to the trip I began reading The Hunger Games and decided this would be the best thing for me to focus on during my plane ride. (I was so torn...Team Peeta or Team Gale. I decided, since its a fantasy world, I will take both of them! Such a harlot). These two humans sitting on either side of me decided to overrule this plan and take turns talking my ear off. It was like Taxi Cab Confessionals except I couldn't jump out of the moving plane to stop listening. The gentleman in the isle seat was severely socially awkward and told me so (I felt like this was an awkward first date...that I couldn't escape)


Isle Geek: So...are planes your thing?
Me: Umm, I'm not really sure what you mean by that...but I do like flying.
Isle Geek: Oh cool...me too. I'm heading to San Jose for a computer science conference. 
Me: Cool, I am going to San Fran for a work conference. Is this for your job?
Isle Geek: Nope...I am just going to take notes on the public speaking so one day I can talk at these things. I suck at talking to people. 
Me: Well you aren't doing so bad talking to me.
Isle Geek: Cool. *silence for what seemed like an hour but was probably 30 seconds* Well I will think of more things to talk about, I think we have about 5hrs left. 


.....At this point my mind went into panic mode. Surely this man didn't want to talk for 5hours straight. I usually get sick of my closest friends after 2hrs. (if you are a close friend of mine...I didn't mean that. I have a gun pointed to my head?....you're pretty?...I take it back! ughhh) I kept looking down at The Hunger Games and it was teasing me with its strong black cover (we have discussed my affinity for all things black, mainly men) and its enticingly beautiful pages. This man was encroaching on my date with Peeta. (Rude!) I told him that I was going to try and catch some Zzz's and I immediately closed my eyes. Much to my dismay, I realized my evil plan was foiled because I wouldn't be able to read with my eyes closed. I sat there for a solid 20min listening to him talk over me to Window Woman. I slowly tried to insert my headset into my ears without the two them noticing, while my eyes were closed. Either they are as dense as I hoped they were, or they realized I wanted no part in their banter over their favorite Anime characters, because they left me alone for a good portion of the flight.

The connecting flight from LAX to San Francisco is where I fell in love for the first time. The plane was less crowded and I had an awesome window seat near the front. I was one of the first people on the plane and I almost immediately whipped out my book and began reading. As people boarded I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that a gentleman sat to my right in the isle seat. Luckily, we ended up not having anyone sit between us and could spread out a little more. Within moments this gentleman decided he wanted to talk to me....I was not pleased...until I realized he wanted to talk about The Hunger Games. When I looked up my eyes were met with a very handsome man!

Mystery Man and I completely hit it off and he made the flight go by rather fast. I stuttered several times because I apparently become a teenager when presented with fine specimens on a plane. We started talking about music and what we were into, who we listened to, what our current obsessions were. Then Mystery Man revealed that he was an artist himself coming back form recording in Nashville. (I blushed when he told me this. As if he had just complimented me. But he hadn't...all he did was tell me his job.) I was sitting next to the famous Youtube singer, Jeremy Passion. This dashing gentleman has an awesome sound and he ended up giving me his two CD's. (As a half-jew, he had me locked in when he offered me free things. I am a sucker for a deal. A deal and famous youtube personality, if we weren't on a plane I would of offered to drop trou) Unfortunately for me, in this one instance, the attractive man to my right happened to be straight. We had to part ways...but not before exchanging numbers and following each other on twitter. (It's not true love unless you follow each other on twitter. Facts of modern day love) 

The second time I fell in love in this Gay Mecca came the day after I had heart palpitations for Jeremy Passion. I was alone in this great city walking around and exploring. After I had decided I had seen enough, I made my way to the massive Westerfield mall across from my hotel for some retail therapy. I walked in and out of a few of my regular stores and then fell upon Lucky Brand. The men in the store were cute and as I circled, I realized I couldn't afford most of the things in the store. Not wanting to seem like just some joe-shmo from the East Coast, I ended up buying two $25 pairs of underwear. (It's at this point that I received the affirmation that it is extremely expensive to be gay.) I have no idea why I did this or why I felt the need to prove myself to these pretty gay men in the store, but I did and now I have some wonderfully comfortable underwear that cost me two days worth of food. Don't worry it gets worse.

For some reason, as I was walking out of the mall I was drawn to Kenneth Cole. It was like a magnetic pull, even though I knew nothing good would come from this little adventure. (and ohhhh was I right) As soon as I walked in I was greeted by most attractive sales person I had seen in a really long time, we shall call him KC Hottie (because I am 12 and spell hottie with an i-e, and if I were writing it on paper it would have a little heart for the dot). KC Hottie and I began making eye love (which is deeper than eye sex or eye fucking) and he followed me into a couple of the different areas of the store. He had this boyish smile and I was roped into every word he said. He was whispering sweet nothings like:

KC Hottie: Sooo have you been to Kenneth Cole before?

and

KC Hottie: Are you looking for anything particular? 

As you can see, it was love at first sight. We were meant to be together and all I had to do was pretend to be interested in buying something, for him to continue paying attention to me. (I have done wayyyy worse to keep a mans attention....shut up...this is a judgement free zone) He started asking me more personal questions like:

KC Hottie: So are you from out of town? *flashes a sheepish grin*
Me: *trying to be coy and cute* HAHAHA How did you know?? Is it that obvious?!?!
KC Hottie: Welll...*points at sweatshirt*...your sweatshirt does say MD
Me: *turning bright red* Oh. Yes yes I am from MD, this is my first time to San Fran. Is it your first time too?
KC Hottie: Haha *Grins again* No, I work here, but I am originally from Southern California. I like it better up here though
Me: I like it better up here now too. Uhhh...I mean...I've been to LA before...and I liked this better?

As you can see, we were destined to have small babies together and live a domestic lifestyle. (Or as Rick Santorum likes to call it, "the deathstyle". Bringing down heterosexual families, one gay family bbq at a time) We were close to the register when I picked up a random pair of jeans and decided I was going to buy them in order to redeem myself for the awkward nature of my initial conversation. I should have looked at the price tag, tried them on, and decided like a normal person if this was the most financially sound decision, considering I had just spent a portion of my retirement fund on underwear 30min earlier.

KC Hottie: Do you want to try those on? They are a great pair
Me: Haha nah, I know my size! I have gone shopping here before...
KC Hottie: Oh, I thought this was...nevermind *flashes huge grin and looks me dead in the eye* I am sure they will look great on you
Me: HAHAHA shoooj me too  
 (Yes I did actually make a sound that could be spelled "shooj", because when I really like someone I revert to animalistic sounds to communicate with them) 
KC Hottie: Would you like too...
Me: Yes I would
KC Hottie: Uh...I didn't finish the question, hahaha. Did you want to donate $10 to Haiti?
Me: Oh...yeah. I saw that when I came in. Of course I do...I love Haiti.

I want you to sit with that for a minute. I just cut him off during his sales pitch and then finished with "I love Haiti," as if this is a normal thing to say to people. (I wonder if he writes a blog about his love life and my nickname is Haiti Lover. ahhh I can only hope *swoon*)

KC Hottie: That's awesome *smiles with a glimmer in his eye* I love when someone seems passionate about things. Your total is $105.78
 Me: Well I hope these pants are magical.... *grudgingly hands over credit card and pays*
KC Hottie: What? Oh..er...yeah they are?  Have an awesome trip, and come back and visit me! 

Why yes, yes I did spend over a $100 on a pair of pants. No, no I don't have that kind of money to spend on jeans. I feel like this is almost how a person feels after they pay for sex. There is a little bit of buyers remorse, but at the same time the product makes you feel like a million dollars. KC Hottie will always be one of my fondest memories of San Fran, and when I go back...we will for sure get gay married.

Fabulously Lost: Broke, homeless, but stylish
San Francisco: Poppin' with hotties left and right
Prostitution: A constant theme in my blog, and possibly similar to buying expensive jeans
Southwest: Always the worst airplane to take to the west coast