Take Care

You want to feel good? Reacquaint yourself with Bob Dylan. I imagine it's been awhile since you have listened to him. There is so much new stuff coming out all of the time, an avalanche of deliriously good and fun pop music. But put on Highway 61 Revisited. Load it up on to whatever music device you have. Plug in your headphones and walk around New York City. Ride the subway. Look at the people and things around you and listen to this great fucking album and realize that life is pretty awesome.

Friday night, I was supposed to go out dinner with the superhero dude at a very nice restaurant. He told me to choose some place really nice, wherever I have always wanted to eat, that it was on him. I was miserably tired from Halloween, having gotten only about two hours of sleep before having to work in the morning. I told him I would need to take a raincheck on the dinner but that we could still meet up for his fantasy of superhero roleplay later in the night, of him punching me, Batman, in the stomach. Anyways, I slept and slept and soon woke up to an annoyed message from him saying he thought we had plans, that he would find someone else, that I should take care.

Saturday night, I was supposed to go on a date with this cute guy I met through a friend. He had texted me a couple days ago and asked me to reconfirm that we were still on for Saturday night. He then made what I guess was meant to be flirty banter, saying, "I hope you're a top." My interest in him went spiraling down with that comment, that what I had really been looking forward to, a proper date with someone, something with some potential for romance, something sweet, something where I might make some connection with a person, was before that even had a chance to happen was now no different than any conversation on Scruff with the numerous sex-hungry creeps who live near me asking first thing, "top/bottom?" And I am well aware that I am one of those sex-hungry creeps in your Scruff radius of guys as well, so I am not judging not too much, or at least not removing myself from my own judgementalness. 

Long story short, I sent him a message canceling due to being busy with school work. He messaged me back, saying he believed I was canceling because of the texts. I told him he was correct. He then sent me a bitchy response.

So I am doing real well with the fellows this weekend. Bring it on. Anyone else want me to let you down, flake out, cancel plans, and be a generally unreliable person? Please let's plan to go on a date so I can mess that up.

I am feeling just about as great as I have in the longest time. And that's because I know what I want and (more importantly) know what I don't want. And I have got Bob Dylan to listen to, this city to explore, and my own hands to make me happy in the late hours of the evening.