What you desire and what you would actually allow to happen, or what you actually want to happen are not always the same thing. Desire is funny like that, and sometimes (often times?), it is better left as some erotic possibility, something unvocalized, not acted upon, in those nether regions of pleasure and sensation. I was thinking about this when I woke up a short while ago in a boy's shirt whose name I do not even know. And no, I did not do anything stupid - okay, I defintely did - but I did not do that.

Last night, I went to a few gallery openings with Christy, Niki, and Jessica, drank lots of beer and wine without regard to the effects of mixing the two, and don't remember much of what I saw except the Sabine Horning show at Tanya Bonakdar, which I really liked. I may talk about the show more later if I see it again. My thoughts are too unformulated right now and would sidetrack this attempt at narrative too much.

So yes, beer, wine, art and then plans to go to two parties in Brooklyn. And Niki and Jessica had people they wanted to see, so we splintered. Niki to see Ramsey. Jessica to see some rock and roll boy. Christy and I to our respective apartments to consume food, but all of us planned on meeting up at Sterling's party. I will fast forward and let you know that that did not happen, that Christy called me and said she was too tired, and the other two, God knows where they ended up last night but it was not at Sterling's.

I get home, make some food, answer my phone, and it is PKDB who says he wants to go to these parties. I was not that excited about attending them with PKDB and sort of regretted answering a phone number I did not recognize, but later when no one else I was supposed to go with showed up, I was very glad, very glad indeed for the company of Mr. PKDB. We went to some party off the Montrose stop where Dara's new band, The Party, made their official debut. Jessica's vocals were not loud enough and I could barely catch any of the lyrics. They sounded good though, and they did a fun cover of Duran Duran's "Hungry like the Wolf". After their set, I started talking to some boy that Dara introduced me to. And why Dara introduced me to this really hot homo now that I am with a boy, I do not know. But we talked, flirted out of control, and after complimenting each other's shirts, decided to trade shirts. I am now in an old Mickey Mouse shirt that is a little big on me, and he ended up with my favorite shirt in the world that was a little small on him. It is this blue button-down western shirt that I stole from Jamie. I don't know if I am going to get it back. Basically there were lots of innuendos and lots of non-innuendos exchanged. Comments like, "I thought Dara's roommate was going to be really nerdy and someone I wouldn't want to sleep with." I think that fits into the non-innuendo category. Lots of touching was occuring also. And then, Micky Mouse boy, PKDB, and I headed off to Sterling's party.

Walking back to the subway, I realized how out of control I was being and decided I needed to take it down a few notches. Mickey kept touching me on the way there, but I stopped returning these touches, and decided that I was not going to go home with this boy, that that would be wrong. We got to Sterling's party and I was doing my best to give Mickey cold body language, but I think I had flirted too much earlier for that too have any effect now. We hung around for a while, drinking beers, and I kept trying to think of how I could escape, and how much I knew that no one from that gallery group was going to make it out to Sterling's. I finally was up front with Mickey and told him that I was not going to go home with him, that I would feel bad. And he still kept hitting on me. I wanted to escape the party so bad, and was looking for an opportunity to flee.

I made out with some dog and it was really hot. This dog was really hyper and kept shoving his tongue down my throat, we kept bumping teeth. Mickey went to the bathroom, and PKDB and I ditched him and the party. We scurried down the stairs, out the building, and around the corner towards my house, leaving Mickey without even saying good-bye. In retrospect, I realize that was assholish to abandon some boy at a party where he did not know anyone, but hey, you do assholish things when you are drunk - and if I had not done that, I really think I may have ended up going home with him, so which assholish action would be more asshole? I think you know. I knew. And I just had to run away. And so I did. I picked up some fried chicken, called Matt, told him about the dog, about how hot it was, and he sounded pretty disgusted, which amused me a lot.

I went back to my house. PKDB came for some reason. I ate the chicken and wanted to go to bed so bad. PKDB just sat there on my couch talking about something or other, I kept closing my eyes in the hopes that PKDB would get the hint and leave and also because I really was starting to fall asleep. Finally he left, and I went to bed, so tired at only two. But that is what happens when you start drinking at six. The moral of this story: Make out with dogs and don't trade clothes with people you just met.