american nights

For the first time since that terrible New Year's Eve of a couple years ago, I got a psychic reading, this time at the Marc Jacobs Arabian Nights party in the Rainbow Room, a weird setting, loud and distracting, to get a tarot card reading in, but also for that reason, for having to silence that out, to focus my attention and lean in close to hear, a good setting. Plus there was the night skyline of Manhattan to look out onto as this reading was being done. She told me things that I found to be true, or things just vague enough to have broad applications to my life, telling me that there had been changes in the past three months in a close relationship, that I am thinking about moving to somewhere closer to nature (or to live with someone closer to nature, she said), that I am going to get a new job or move after the new year, that I am nearing the end of a nine year cycle (as I will turn 27 in June), and that until that point, for the next six months, I am going to be processing a lot of things and cleaning my emotional house, and that after that point, I am going to fall in love. I enjoyed this reading a lot. There had already been some whiskeys consumed by this point, allowing me to enjoy it even more, to approach it earnestly.

The party was amazing. So much money must have been spent on it. There was the space itself, which must have cost some change, then the full open bar, the buffets, and then all these performers - tarot card readers, sword swallowers, and dancers galore. Everyone was dressed in really amazing, extravagent, and sexy costumes. So many sexy costumes, man oh man. I talked to some store people that I had never talked to and they were really nice. I talked to Adrian and made out with him. I exchanged numbers with this one boy, and who by the time I finally got home had already found me on myspace and written me, and these interactions were nice, were pleasant, and yet were like a lot of my interactions with boys lately, in that they are nice and pleasant, that there are boys that like me and that I exchange numbers with, maybe make out with, but that things never seem to go far beyond that, that I am not giddy enough over these boys to muster the will to hang out with them. But I am thinking about calling some of these boys up that I have met recently and trying to make giddiness.

Later in the evening, Gabriel and I tried to sneak Ben in, which proved quite difficult, but which we did finally succeed in doing, however the process resulted in Gabriel not being allowed back in. So the three of us left there and went to the Kiki and Herb afterparty, were there for a bit, it feeling weird to see all these often seen homos in the swank setting of the National Arts Club. Things seemed more appropriate when the party migrated to Nowhere. I drank more there, hit on more boys, exchanged some bjs with people, and then despite seeming successes with boys went home alone. The last time I slept with a boy, spent the night with one, was weeks ago, was Diego. Right now, I couldn't say what it is that I want, but last night, walking home alone, the thing was to not be walking home alone that I wanted, to not know that I would be sleeping alone.