Whiskey.

Part of the reason I don’t want to take up smoking is the perspective of how simply permitting alcohol into my life has allowed it to permeate a now emerging lifestyle. Three shots later, I wish I had some whiskey instead.

But, only three. Not five. I should be able to maintain mental coherency through the entry. We’ll see.

It’s been one of those evenings. The good comes with the bad. Or the bad comes with the good. An evening that only sucked because it ended. So to speak.

I was at Melissa’s best friend’s boyfriend’s house. Follow? Good. There was also another Timmy involved. Imagine me in five years, obsessed with nothing but beer and boobs, more interested in cars, and less intelligent. *smirks*

*sips Panera Ale*

Mmm, my brain feels numb.

I know, I broke the golden rule of never drinking by yourself. But I’ve made an exception, goddamnit. It’s one of those nights!

I spent so much time resisting my urge to hold her. And to simply have my arms around her for an extended period of time was bliss. Yet, I wanted more. I felt her warmth, I felt her scent, and it was good. But I wanted to kiss her.

Physical communication can tell us a lot about people. Her body told me that she wanted me. She wanted it, badly. Yet, something was holding her back. Something pained her. This is consistent with her current situation. I am, very clearly, the rebound boy. Whether I am simply the rebound boy, or just interesting in a girl “on the rebound”, it’s to be seen.

(My eyes are having trouble focusing on the screen. Excuse my brain for technical malfunctions due to alcoholic impairment.)

I’m not sure what to say about the ex-boyfriend. Sometime she thinks they’ll get back together. She doesn’t want to lead me on. Ultimately, she doesn’t want to let go. This sounds disturbingly like Cliff’s situation with Jess. Almost.

*burps*

*sips Panera Ale*

Oh, it’s kicking in now. Most definitely.

I held her in my arms. Goddamn, that felt nice. I was lost in this perpetuatal feeling I had. As I’ve said to her, that’s all I’ve followed. “Hmm, I feel nice when I’m around this girl.” After kissing her a few times, I couldn’t help but reflect upon all the times in the past I’ve kissed a girl. That feeling of utter contentment.

I wonder if I’m a good kisser. I think I am. Maybe. Maybe it’s just relaxing and reacting to your partner, as opposed to sticking to one specific style of kissing.

I can’t feel my brain.

Girls are such perverts, rating their partners and their penis sizes.

Christine (Melissa’s best friend) was saying how she was going to test me. My initial reaction was to be “Fuck you”. Maybe. But I was reminded of how I, myself, test people. She’d be judging me just like I’d be judging anybody else.

“You have to pass a vigorious test before you can go out with Melissa.”

Or something like that. I believe I decided to just relax and take things one at a time. Referring to me as “Hey you with the penis, go do ___” shouldn’t offend me so much, as I enjoy referring to people in such a manner. Go figure.

I’m making more typing mistakes, but am still coherent enough to fix most of them.

*sips Panera Ale*

Yes. Whiskey. Next time. What did Kirk, no Bones, use in Star Trek V? Tennessee Whiskey, I believe. I think. Maybe. I’ll rewatch it just for that, it’s in the beginning. The “secret ingredient” to the beans.

Christine’s boyfriend struck me as the opitome of a male sexist redneck? I internally scratched my head why any guy would tell a girl to “get in the kitchen” in a way that could not possibly be taken as sarcastic. My group of friends says a lot of offensive shit, but that’s just not part of our genre. *shrugs*

But yes, I kissed Melissa. It made me feel… right. It felt right. It made me feel something I haven’t felt in nearly five years, I’d say. I want to say something I never felt with Paige, but then I’d be underestimating some of the emotional moments we had. We used to kiss so much, I remember.

She said “I’m sorry” so much. I didn’t want to be a dick. She pointed out that I wasn’t calling her a bitch and cursing her out. But I pointed out that I wanted to avoid being a passive-aggressive whimper and make her feel bad sort of thing. *blinks buzzedly*

Yet, I stayed well after she initially told me I should leave. I didn’t want to leave. I asked myself, “Why should I leave?” I saw no reason to leave. I thought that maybe she, deep down, wanted me to stay. Some kisses later proved me right on that account. Yet. Yet, I sensed something else beyond that. She so wanted me there; but she would be pained in the long run by me staying the night. We weren’t ready to sleep together.

She kept saying how she didn’t want to get attached to me. Then I pointed out how we were clinging to each other.

I have to mention a moment I had before all this really started. I’m in a foreign house, with a girl I like a lot, with a best friend who is bent on intimidating me, with two guys who are nothing like me. I don’t think my heart stopped racing all night, whether it be nervousness or.. Melissa-related heart-racing. I tried to calm myself. Take deep breaths. I tried to think of other people with me. Alex. I tried to imagine what she’d say, yet I could only draw blanks. Strangely, thinking of Erik made me feel better. Part of me wished he was there as my wingman. He makes me feel physically secure, that nothing bad will happen to me. Sounds weird, but it’s true. He’s got my back.

I rationalized that I was overreacting. Nobody was out to get me, yet I was feeling like I was under attack. I decided to just take it as it came. Brian and Timmy pretty much ignored me, anyway.

But, Melissa.

*head falls off neck and waddles around, before righting self*

*sips Panera Ale*

I like her, okay? I kept asking myself what I’m supposed to do. What I want? I was thinking entirely in uber-short-term, then. I was thinking, “I have you in my arms and I never want this moment to end.” Long-term? I’m still in pray-for-a-date mode. Reminds me, I need to write DateATimmy when I wake up tomorrow.

No hangover. Which reminds me AGAIN. She was drinking last night. See, she was wearing shorts last night. But when she woke up, she was wearing pants. Her own pants which she had brought with her, granted. But, she has a huge blank in her memory.

The three/four of them all smoked. It’s not really my thing, and it really made me feel excluded. Not that I didn’t feel excluded anyway. It wasn’t my scene. It wasn’t my comfort zone. Maybe I’ve just kept inside that comfort zone of my friends for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around new people who are not like Timmy.

*tried to keep head steady*

She said she’d call me tomorrow. Will she? What will she say? Will she even have anything to say? Don’t know. One way or another, I’m the rebound guy. She’s going to need a LOT of time to sort out her ex-boyfriend. Part of the reason I stayed is because I needed to access of pouncing was the right move. (I ascertained that it was, in fact, not a good idea to dominantlypounce her.) Instead, I was physically affectionate in a … non-threatening way? I don’t know.

I have not touched Melissa’s boobs. Her ass is another story.

*sips Panera Ale*

Erik has the morning shift tomorrow. Saturday. Maybe I’ll drop by before his shift ends and pester him. I’m not going to sit around waiting for Melissa to call. I can’t play that game. I..

I was two shots in when I decided to call Liz. It’s kind of funny, I’ve met this girl mere weeks ago, yet I feel like I want to share this event with her. As I said to her in a voicemail, I have enough friends, people I can call, but not too many I know in person. It makes a difference. She seemed so excited for me, I thought she’d appreciate an update. I’m bad at telling these sort of things to my guy friends. So I figure I might as well just tell a friend with a Vagina.

(My mouth is starting to feel a little numb. But I can still type. Goddamn, I was really far gone when I wrote that drunk entry!)

I openned today in a few hours sleep, worked ten hours, took my dad to the Home Depot because he needed screen door advice, then called Melissa. I napped at her behest, then called her back. I met her at a quickie mart where she took me to Brian’s house. Yadda, yadda.

I couldn’t help but joke tonight about how I never have normal relationships with girls. I go through things, learn something and think I’ve discovered everything. Then the next relationship confronts me with something completely different. Normal? Does anybody really have normal relations?

Too buzzed to really consider that. I’m an economical drunk, indeed! I got the impression we were supposed to drink tonight, but we never got around to it. Well, Christine made um something which didn’t taste much like booze. But beyond a tidbit of that, I didn’t have anything else. Didn’t ask for beer, nor so I smoke.

I want some Sacagawea coins. Those are cooooooooool. I’ll get twenty or so from the back, next time I’m there. Yeah. Balls in my mouth.

My self-censor is off a lot. But get three shots in me (like I have now), and damn, the self-censor is off COMPLETELY.

I wonder if Melissa got wet at all. Probably. My cock twitched enough. Plus, I was kissing spots on her neck/shoulder. I didn’t get too positive of a reaction, but eh, whatever. I would have needed more time and privacy to find the arousal spots.

Every time I’ve annotated a list of why I like a girl, it ends up completely blowing up in my face. Or the list becomes completely irrelevant. I like Melissa because I enjoy being around her. Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be like?

The extended farewell scene. We held each other for so long. She cried a bit. She walked me out to just inside the door. We kissed and kissed and hugged. Then she walked me to the van. We kissed. Goddamn, that was good. Then her phone vibrated, which just happened to be situated between our respective genitalias.

I felt too weak to just let her go. I wanted more. I wanted to kiss her more. She told me she’d call me tomorrow, and she managed to force herself away from me.

*yawns*

Getting out of the van and walking back to the condo, an SUV passed my sights. Somebody yelled at me,

“Get a job, you hippie!”

I shouted back,

“I do have a job, I work 40 hours a week!”

WTF? I don’t even have long hair anymore.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some agua to avoid a hangover (just in case), and then collapse like a sack of heavy potatoes. Because light potatoes just don’t fall so hard.

And damn, I need whiskey. *holds up his wine glass of Panera Ale* Cheers.