Huzzah!

Ok kids, I have to go freshen up so I can go pick up the NB the instant he gets home from work BUT I wanted to give you a few quickies for the moment:

#1
We're not going to California!!!!!!!

How good is that?!?

#2. Will gave me my gang name: Triple D Li. Y'all suck big donkey balls. No prize for you!

#3. Welcome Dina!

Ok, will relay other interesting events in excrutiating detail later...must primp.

Long Day's Journey Into Night (and then some) ****** Contest at End of Entry*****

I must admit that tonight I have one of those no sleep hangovers. I didn't drink too much last night although I did drink but we did see the sun rise and that has really left me hurting.

I went out with the boys, JoGina and Dina to the lovely Verona Inn. We started on the early side...about 5:30 and were out of there around 9 (I think although I can't be sure) and headed to the NB's place. I was on mission to secure 3 sixes and a pack of smokes for the NB who has resumed smoking after a yearlong hiatus. I was also left in charge of Jake (the BF or best friend) who was drunk out of his skull and behaving like a 6 year old. I secured the beer at the VI but when I pulled into On the Run he started having a temper tantrum that resulted in me turning into Bad Mommy yelling at him in the parking lot to "Shut the fuck up and stay in the car! I'll be right back!" Some guy in the parking lot proceeded to applaud and say "You tell him!" Two minutes later, smokes secured I returned to the car to find Jake shouting "Mommy! Mommy!" I drove to the NB's. Fast.

When we arrived we found the apartment populated by the NB, Bruce (the third of the 3 "boys" or "husbands), and, unexpectedly Jeffrey (previously known as SMF or SMS). I stowed the beer in the fridge and, as is my wifely duty, served the boys. Jake immediately got out of control and one look at the NB told me he was about to boil over. He got up, walked into the bedroom and moments later I heard the telltale sounds of him pounding the stuffing out of his heavy bag. I positioned myself in the living room blocking the entrance to the bedroom so I could keep Jake and the NB separated. I told Jakey I needed him to sit down and chill out and managed to get him settled in a chair sipping a beer and strumming a guitar.

So I hear the NB calling from the bedroom, "Li sweetheart, can you come here?" The living room erupted into laughter -- the man is beating the crap out of an inanimate object and is sweetly calling me to come in...certainly sounded like a domestic disturbance waiting to happen. Undaunted, I went into the bedroom. He grabbed me with gloved hands and said, "You know I'd never hit you or want to hurt you in any way, right?" I agreed. His next question? "Can you hold the bag?" So I wedge myself into the corner behind the bag and hold onto it while he pummels it into submission. I wasn't afraid of getting hurt but what surprises me is that I wasn't afraid of what I was seeing...this pent up rage unleashed... but all I kept thinking was how glad I was that he was getting it out.

For the next hour or so we were back and forth, alternately entertaining guests in the living room and playing Rocky in the bedroom. At one point I was sitting in the living room talking to Jake when I heard the punching again - really rapid fire. Jake looked at me and said, "I think you'd better go in there." I got up and went in. He looked at me in the oddest way and said, "I'm not someone you want to be with. I'm not someone you want around." My immediate reaction was to throw my arms around him, pull him towards me and tell him it was all ok. He crumpled like a child when I did. He melted right into me, kissed me and was, I think, seconds from tears. We stood like that a while until he finally looked up at me and said, "Ok. I'm ok now." We went back into the living room, his hands still in the fingerless practive gloves I'd gotten him.

I played hostess again, getting fresh beers and putting empties in recycling. When I got to the NB he took the beer from me, put it on the table and then held his hands up to me to take the gloves off. I took them in the bedroom and put them away. When I came back and sat down with him he was markedly calmer. Jeffrey started talking to me about my job and as soon as the NB got up to go to the bathroom Jeffrey took his seat. I was trapped in a conversation I couldn't get out of and there was too much touching involved. Frankly, I threw up in my mouth a little.

My husbands were sitting on the couch talking and kept trying to pull me back into their conversation but Jeffrey is relentless. He just talked right over them and then, in a grand gesture that was either designed to woo me or piss off the NB or both, he insisted that he was going to send me flowers. He made a big production of it and then asked the NB for paper and a pen to write down my address. When NB went looking for it I told him to stop because "I don't want to play this game." He assured me it was harmless and that his good bud was just being nice. When Jeffrey continued to go on asking me if I wanted roses, the NB hit his point and pulled me into the bedroom. He asked me if I was ok as I'd told him previously that Jeffrey makes me uncomfortable and if he needed to say something. I said only that I don't want anything from Jeffrey. The NB came back out and got Jeffrey talking about something else.

The fun of the evening really started when Jeffrey and Bruce left. I can't even begin to tell you what went on. The NB, Jake and I sat up until 6am talking. We talked about everything...childhood, school, marriage, therapy, parents. All I can say coming out of last night/this morning is that I really love these two men and feel very loved by them in return. I said to my mother this afternoon that we're a family in our own way...that the beauty of our bond is that in spite of our families of origin we've created a family unit with whom we're truly safe. I told them things last night that I'd been holding back for the year plus that I've known them and they told me things they've never told anyone.

It wasn't all so heavy... we laughed a lot...especially once we got close to sunrise and we were overtired and giggly. It was absolute magic. I finally fell asleep on the couch sitting up. I remember telling jake to go fuck himself a couple times so he must have woken me up. Around 5:30 Jake left and the NB locked up again and told me to go lie down...that he was going to read for a bit but all I really wanted was to be with him. We finally agreed that we'd sit together a bit and then I'd go home so we climbed into the club chair together and had an extended snuggle...might have even dozed off for a bit.

When 6:30 rolled around he kissed me and said he wanted to go shower and then try to sleep a little but that he'd be around tonight. A long, tight, fantastic hug and many kisses later I got my keys and headed for the door. He walked me down, kissed me and said, "Call me please when you get home?" I told him I'd be ok and that he'd be in the shower or asleep anyway but he insisted. It's funny, he's just recently started to insist upon a call when I get home which is so sweet. He always says, "Don't expect me to answer...I just want to know you're ok" but he always does...even if just to say "Goodnight sweetpea. Love you." Funny, this is the man who's not my boyfriend.

I'm so ridiculously tired now. Tomorrow I'll tell you about how we came to create our own gang complete with street names (NB = Old Dirty Dog (aka ODD) Bruce = Rusty, Jake = Little Baby Jesus) and a secret handshake. In the meantime, I need some help coming up with my own street name...I'm told I'll have no "cred" until I get one. I'll rip off Laura and Jonathan's contest... suggest a street name, my gang will vote on it and the submitter of the winning name gets a prize.

They Call Me The Spindoctor

I GOTS ME A GROWN-UP JOB!! Yes kids, I'll be running PR and Marketing for a software company in Totowa starting in about a week. Now that I'm returning to gainful employment maybe I'll obsess less about my personal life...wait, have I met me? Of course I won't obsess less!

As a follow-up to my recent freak-out: I didn't fuck it up at all. As we all know when we're sane (you see the problem already), part and parcel of obsession is that we come up with worst case scenarios and send ourselves into this insane spin-out that involves tears, palpitations, unreasonable fears and over-reactions. What's the pay-off? When everything turns out OK it just feels so damn good. I recognize my psychotic tendencies folks and have managed to keep the external manifestations to the "loveably crazy" level.

The long and short is this: we talked, everyone is ok and we're still spending a lot of time together - alone and with the crew. The sex issue remains unresolved, which, being the deeply disturbed person I am, I have decided has to do with some deep-seated psychological issue of the NB's. Samantha, if you're reading this, I think both the NB and I are fodder for your incisive psychological analysis. Artwork can be provided to reinforce your conclusions.

So, basically everyone is doing fine....except, of course, that the California job is still an issue. His face-to-face is in 2 weeks. We talked about it the other night and he came out with, "All I'll have to do is get you to move out there." This was followed by further suggestion that if I don't move to Cali that he'd buy his apartment and I could live in it. Bizarre! The man who can't decide from minute to minute whether he's my boyfriend or not wants me to move across the fucking country with him. As further proof that he's insane and conflicted, I receive an email as part of an ongoing conversation that reads:

"You are an awesome friend of mine, I can talk to you for hours. I’m just not boyfriend material, trust me on that. (no I’m not in the closet)"

Later that evening, at his apartment, after we hang a painting and spackle (yup, we're a fun-loving couple!) and he's all sweaty he goes to hug me and realizes that he reaks...his comment? "Sweetpea, you have a very stinky boyfriend." Buddy, are you a B or an NB??? Let's get real here: there are 2 differences between the relationship we're having now and us being boyfriend-girlfriend:

1. Sex - we're not having any... hear BF-GF's do.
2. Using the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend"

Other than that - we're there. We do stupid housework together, spend a ton of time together, I am "dear", "darling", "sweetheart" or "sweetpea" (I can't remember the last time the man used my name) and he is, fairly uniformly "honey" with an occasional occurence of "sweetie", I wash dishes, schedule haircuts, run errands, make the bed. We are invited to events as a couple. Each of us is frequently asked to convince the other of something. If one arrives somewhere without the other they are immediately asked their whereabouts or when they will be arriving. Denial is not just a river in Egypt baby!

Now, to quote Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that." For now at least.

The F Word

I just got home from a night out with the NB. It was great, actually. I picked him up at 6:30 and we drove up to O'Neil's and had a few drinks. It was so strange in that I realized tonight that he and I had never gone out just the two of us. We'd ended up alone together but we'd always started out with a group. At first it was just like an awkward first date and then things relaxed a lot.

I don't want to go on for long because I'm tired but the gist is this: when I took him home he kissed me but I just felt like he was afraid of me...that he was trying to keep his distance. He said he'd see me tomorrow, which I'm looking forward to, but something was just weird. I started driving home when I picked up my cell and called him and said, "I wanted to ask you something...I think about making love with you...mmm... pretty much constantly and I don't know if we're on the same wavelength on this one so I need you to tell me what I'm doing wrong." His first response? "Why are we talking about this on the phone and not in person?" A million things shot through my head...because I need to obsess for a few minutes before a fully formed thought emerges, because I need the distance of you not being in front of me, because I'm a coward...but most importantly because I love you and I'm scared of you.

Here's the thing -- I don't know what to tell him and what not to. I'm scared that something I say is going to send him running for the hills. I'm afraid he's going to leave me. I hate to admit it but he's right. We should be talking about this in person. I should grow some stones and say what I have to say to his face. He said we'd talk tomorrow night and I know what I have to do. I have to be brave. I just have to do it. God, this could totally fuck everything up but I also know that we can't move on without it. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!

Zen and the Art of Not Boyfriend Maintenance

I think I'm experiencing a hormonal imbalance or something. For some reason I have been feeling ridiculously weepy lately to the point of complete and total lameness. This morning I was sitting on the couch having coffee and watching TV when "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants" came on. This movie is intended for a viewing audience with a median age of about 15. I cried. I wasn't even crying at parts where the average teen queen would cry. Basically I was just very glad there was no one around to witness this abomination.

I suppose I could just say that this is yet another byproduct of the relationship with the NB. The fucked up part is that things are relatively good. We had a great night together last night. We went out for drinks with the boys and then went back to his place. He was telling story after story which I always enjoy but it was getting late and I knew the evening would be ending soon so I initiated a conversation that went something like this:

Me: Honey, I love you...
NB: (interrupting) I love you very much.
Me: I love you and I love your stories but I need to be petted and stroked right now.
NB: I'm sorry...sorry to keep droning on.

So I lie down on the couch with my head against his chest and he puts his arms around me -- perfect. Perfect...and then he says, "I'm sorry that I don't know what I want. I have to figure it out." I told him I wasn't willing to have that conversation right now, that I love him just as he is and that I just wanted to enjoy being with him but I must say I do have some commentary that I'd like to share with you.

1. This is not as bad as it seems. For those of you who know the NB you realize that he ALWAYS knows what he wants or at least manages to state emphatically something he claims is what he wants so this admission is relatively unusual. Typical would be "I love you but I don't want a relationship." This is more like, "I might want a relationship so lemme think about it." As I said before, he already loves me, he just has to figure out how to deal with it. I must say I'm hopeful.

2. I can't help but wonder what he wanted me to say. Maybe I did say the right thing but as we all know, when we say things there's an underlying need or motive. If I say "I look fat in these pants?" the correct answer is "No sweetheart you're not fat, you look beautiful." I don't just think I look fat (although I do) I also need reassurance, a compliment, attention.

3. What do I do now? Part of me just wants to hard-line it and tell him what he already knows - that I'm in love with him, that I want to be with him and only him and that he wants the same thing he's just freaked the fuck out. I am not the person who's going to hurt him...it's just not in me. Probably a bad idea all around. I think the end result will just be him freaking the fuck out some more.

Look, one of you has to know something or at least have a good guess so post a comment, send an email, give my pathetic ass a call and throw me a bone cause I'm at a loss. I really believe at a certain point you habituate to another person...you know their nuances, their faces, their noises, their moods and you learn how to go with the flow. If you haven't you probably shouldn't be in it. We know each other so well it's scary (he's been calling me on a certain look I've been giving him lately that I didn't even know was on my face) and I'm a pro at NB management on a daily basis but I feel like we've hit this critical juncture and a misstep could really set off a landmine.

All Quiet on the Western Front

Sure has been quiet these past few days. The Darkside closing has created a major disruption in my routine. It's Friday night now and I have nowhere to go. The NB and his BF are working on their motorcycles tonight and then NB is heading south to see mom tomorrow so it looks like it's going to be a long, quiet, sucky weekend.

On the NB front: we went out to dinner with our friend Brendan last night. Brendan is getting married at the end of September and the NB is doing the photography for the wedding. When Brendan asked him to do it he said he couldn't possibly without me so now I guess I'm a roadie and we'll be attending the rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, wedding, reception, after-party and possibly brunch the next day. Brendan, or Doc as we call him (yes, he actually is a doctor unlike our friend Frank whom we also call Doc who isn't), is hot for us to spend the night in the hotel so we can hang out and drink our faces off with them after the reception so he has charged me with convincing the NB to do it.

At any rate, we had a nice dinner, the NB split and Doc and I went to have drinks at O'Neil's where I hung out before my Darkside days. Doc and I had a great convo but it was a surreal experience. All my old buds were coming up hugging and kissing me and Doc didn't know anyone so I didn't really want to get caught up with any of them....and then my ex Dave rolled in. He was semi-weird which is a way of life for him but I gave him a peck and went back to talking to Doc.

Shortly thereafter Dave's sister walked in who I always liked and she gave me a huge hug and we started gabbing. When the time came to go I went over to say goodbye to Dave et al and Dave looks at me and says, "Why are you going?" I mumbled something but mostly I was just thrown by him not being a total prick. As I turned to go he called, "See you tomorrow." Which leads me to the question - do I go hang out there tonight?

There are no worries about anything "happening" with Dave (besides, he has a very tiny penis - unfortunate for a man of his height). He was a douche to me for about 6 months and I'm over it...plus, more importantly, I'm stupidly in love with the NB. I think it's just that I don't want to fall back into that old group and that old groove. I love my friends and I have a place with them...I fit there. I guess this one's just a wait and see.

Last Days of Disco

I just made some great pesto and I'm feeling pretty satiated but a little bit moody-cranky-weepy. Let's be honest folks, I'm only beginning to mourn my loss...that loss being The Darkside. The Darkside closed its doors on Sunday night after a weekend of hard partyting, especially Saturday, the night of the closing party. I can sit here and tell you how much fun we had this weekend (which we did) and how much I'm going to miss everyone (which I will) but I'm just beginning to get to the heart of what has really been bothering me about this ending...it has more to do with the nature of friendship and relationships...they ARE about what you put into them and - to get right to the point - if someone actually has to pick up the phone and call you to make plans rather than just showing up at the bar at "the usual time"...they usually don't make the call and friendships fall off.

That's very true, but let me go right on ahead and confess what's really been bothering me. I have been ridiculously in love with the NB for a year now. For the past year I've seen him just about every day, we email throughout the day, we're in constant contact and now here we are at the end of the day (so to speak) and I'm terrified of losing him. We're at this bizarre seemingly critical juncture in our relationship that I'm having enough of a hard time navigating when I do see him all the time. The doors of this bar closing also gives him a fall back position - an excuse to hide.

Honesty time kids, I realize that he is a total shit sometimes but I also know that he knows me like no one else does. No matter how many times I tell him I'm fine and smile he can just cut through all the bullshit, look me in the eyes and ask me what's wrong. Over the past two months we've grown closer and closer. He said to me the other night "You and I are at the point where we literally finish each other's sentences...I love that. I love you. You're perfect." I almost cried...and I have thinking about it since....partially because it's exactly what I need to hear and what I've wanted all along and partially because when I get something sincere and heartfelt and emotional from him it's accompanied by a retreat.

Case in point: we spent all afternoon and evening together yesterday. He told me how important I am to him, how much he loves me, etc. and finally tells me that he's like me to spend the night and maybe even stay while he's at work - this is huge for him. He ends up inviting another male friend as well and we hang out til an obscene hour. During the evening he and I talked fairly candidly to our pal about each other, our relationship, etc. The NB was very affectionate and touchy all night.

When bedtime rolled around, however, he got into bed with Auto Week. When he turned out the light he wedged a pillow between our bodies and he literally didn't touch me the entire night. More approach-avoidance for you. I'm finally at the point where I actually believe he loves me but there's nothing I can do to help him deal with it. Now, here's the real kicker...the tearjerker....he's interviewing for a job in L.A. Every time he mentions it I start crying. He's actually doing a phone interview right now and I'm waiting for him to call me and tell me about it.

Anyone want to take bets on whether I get the call or not???

Just Call Me B.B.

Yes, I am the Beer Bitch. The Beer Bitch on call to boot. I was hanging out at The Darkside on Friday night with the NB who tells me he's going home...alone. I stay and hang a little then decide to head home an eat some friggin pasta. As my car coasts into the driveway my phone begins to ring. It's the NB, he wants me and 2 six-packs at his house ASAP. I turn the car around, hit the bar, get mocked by my friends who know where I'm headed as soon as I say "2 sixes of Bud to go" (hey, I'm a Mic Lite girl cause I'm a Mick lite).

So I take my ribbing and head out with the brew. The door is open, I head up the stairs and find the NB half passed out on the couch. I'm putting the beer in the fridge when his nibs comes over and starts hanging on me telling me what an ass he is for making me deliver beer....and then he asks the magic question: Why do you do this stuff for me?

Well kids, I answered honestly and loudly, "Because I'm your bitch!!!"

Then I went home.

Now, the funny (a.k.a. assinine) part is that last night I got another call - I was still at the bar then - and I went. When I asked for the beer...from my fave male bartender (hey, Jo Gina and Angela are my girls!!) he called me out...yes, he dubbed me B.B. - the Beer Bitch. Just the same, off I went only to find that SMF, who I have now renamed SMS (Single Male Stalker), is chillin' on the NB's couch. Now it took a while but I froze him out of the apartment...or so I thought.

Imagine with me the scene: NB and I alone, kissing, cuddling, talking, possible moving toward knocking boots when Lo! the NB's Nextel goes off and it's SMS. SMS tells him that he's just getting ready to pour a Gran Marnier and hop in the hot tub then he's off to bed. They hang up and like clockwork 1 minute later my phone rings - SMS. I tell him in no uncertain terms that I am still sitting where he left me on the NB's couch and that I fully intended to stay put. Using his magical power to tune me out he said he'd leave the door open so I could "surprise" him.

I didn't get laid.

By anyone.

Again.

Anywho, to end things on a good note I have to mention that I had a spectacular Saturday with Jo Gina which commenced around 12:30 in the afternoon and involved the two of us, alone in the bar, drinking, eating, bonding, smoking and drinking a lot more. I had a fucking blast! As a testament to my stamina I proceeded to stay until 11pm-ish. Hey, it was Bartender Booty night... what's a girl to do?