OMGWTFBBQ Italy & Ethiopia
Jesus titty fucking Christ what a night.
So, I had a date planned with a guy tonight. I wasn’t SUPER into him, but I figured I’d give him a shot at least. As he’s on his way, Chris called and asked if I wanted to go out to Ghost Machine tonight. I said hellz yeah. Chris and date dude ( who was Italian, so I’ll call him Italy) show up at roughly the same time. Italy brought me a dozen magenta colored roses. I told him my friend had called from minutes away, and could we try to do something as a group since I didn’t want to blow off either one of them. We agree the three of us will go to GM and have some drinks, and Italy would leave in time for him to go to work. I ride in the car with Italy and we start fighting almost immediately. He didn’t want to spend time with my friend. He wanted to be alone with me. We had great chemistry. I was his dream girl. I should go back to his place. He blew off another date and drove across town and bought me a dozen roses. I’m telling him that we don’t have a lot of time to go to his place, not if I want to spend time with Chris too. The club ends at 2:30. Its already 11. We would be rushed at his house. We end up fighting enough I was SECONDS away from telling him to turn around and drop me off and that would be the end of the night. We fight so much that we miss all the exits for the club and end up a block from his house. I tell him off. He’s pushy and clingy and he’s aggravating me. Finally, just to get him to let up and to get the night over with, I tell him I will go to his place for ONE HOUR. That I HAVE to be at the club at midnight, or Chris would freak out and call the cops or something.
We get to his house and watch TV. He kisses me a few times, telling me how amazing I am. How much money he makes. How exclusive his condo development is. How good his education is. What a big shot he was back in NY. How much his 4 bottles of Ed Hardy cologne cost. How I’m absolutely amazing and perfect and he’s never met anyone like me.
After an hour of this, he thankfully takes me to the club. He drops me off and I thank him for the roses and escape into the lovely smoke filled club pounding with industrial music. Chris and I sit at the bar and drink for a while. I relate the horror stories of the date to him. Chris finishes up his drinks before I do and heads to the floor to dance while I finish my rum and smoke. I get up afterwards to go to the bathroom, come up and just observe the floor for a while. I’m watching the dancers and leaning against the railing when a black guy comes up to me. He’s obviously not there for Goth night. He was wearing blue jeans and a white and blue striped button up shirt with half the buttons undone. Turns out, this was the third bar he had gone to that night. He asks me what time the Goth night ends and I tell him. We chit chat for a bit and he asks if he can buy me a drink. I agree.
We stand at the bar drinking and smoking for a bit. Just making small talk. He has a thick accent and it’s hard to hear him over the music. He ends up grinding against me at the bar, sitting on the bar stool and pulling me into his lap as he starts petting my hair and rubbing my shoulders. I laugh awkwardly and just play it off, till I can feel the obvious hardon digging into my ass cheek. I move away to get my drink and he cools down for a bit. Then he pulls me to him and kisses me. He bites and sucks on my lower lip hard enough that it HURT. I pull away and light a cigarette thinking he might get the hint. Instead, he buries his face into my chest and LICKS MY CLEAVAGE while sliding his hands up the back of my shirt. I move away and Chris comes and saves me for a bit.
Later, Chris leaves to go sit down as he’s totally intoxicated too. Me and the dude are talking and I ask where he’s from. He says he’s originally from Ethiopia. I comment that I had a neighbor from there when I was a child and she was an amazingly nice woman. He asks me if she ever killed anyone.
….
“I don’t know. I never asked.”
“I did.”
“Did what, kill people?”
“Yeah.”
“You DID, or still do?”
“I still do. Like, tonight.”
…… I thought he was joking. Odd joke, but he’s drunk and maybe he thinks that’s what a Goth chick wants to hear. I laugh it off and say that I could take him. That I would fight back. His reply?
“I don’t fight. You won’t see me coming. I’ll just kill you.”
…….
I grab Chris from the floor. He pretends like he’s having an emotional break down and we walk away talking and hugging as he pretends to cry. I see Ethiopia leave after a while. So Chris and I stick around. We end up dancing, and Ethiopia comes back, saying he forgot his cigarettes. He buys me another drink and tries to dance with me. So Chris and I dance together for a while. Ethopia tells me that he thinks he left his smokes in his car, after the song, will I go get them with him? I look at Chris, and Chris pretends like he’s going to puke. We walk outside till we see Ethiopia leave again. Go back inside, and go back to dancing.
In the mean time, there was this boy there named Aaron that was heart stoppingly gorgeous. I had been watching him all night, and we exchanged small talk once. As the music ends and hip hop night commences, I tap him on the shoulder and tell him that I apologize for being forward, but I’m drunk and I just wanted to tell him that he was absolutely beautiful. He gave me a hug. Awesome sauce.
Chris goes to the bathroom before we leave. I’m standing in a corner near the exit and who do I see coming for me but Ethiopia. He grabs my waist and asks if I’m leaving. I say yeah, with my friend as soon as he comes out of the bathroom. Ethiopia sticks his tongue down my throat. I push him away. He moves behind me, pinning my arms back behind my back as he grinds into me again. Then, he slides his hand down my pants and UP MY ASS CRACK as he’s kissing my neck. I manage to slam my fist into his stomach, pushing him away and twisting out of his grip. I see Aaron at the bar and I tell Ethiopifuck that I have to go say bye to a friend, figuring if I can make it to Aaron and his group at least they can keep me company till Chris comes out. Ethi keeps grabbing at me and I manage to run, smack into Chris as he exits the bathroom. I grab him and tell him we have to leave NOW and we book it from the club.
We sit in the car for a bit, coming off our buzz and I have to pee. We end up in the gayer gay club next door because Gipsy’s is now charging a cover to get inside. I scream the lyrics to Ke$ha’s Tik Tok as Chris humps a wall in there, then we leave, going to Del Taco where I promptly down a pound of taco and 10 pounds of fries. And here I am.
What a fucking night.
Filed under: annoyed, clubbing, dating, ethiopia, ghost machine, goth, jerks | 5 Comments
Oh right. There was a thing.
I forgot. I do have something to say.
Youtube.
Vlogging.
Things that I’ve been tempted to try doing, but have failed miserably in.
So, come August this awesome, awesome person who is also known as Dr. Noise is doing something he calls “Vlaugust”. *Add in magical hand expressions*. In Vlaugust he will be vlogging every weekday of August. So, I think I’m going to try it. I don’t think I have much of interest to say…and…I feel awkward talking to a camera. But, I feel like I’m missing out on something awesome by not being an active member of youtube. I don’t want to let this completely pass me by. I’m already coming into the game late.
If a bunch of other people are vlogging every day, I think it will give me motivation to just go for it. And do whatever the hell comes to mind, and just get me in the habit of talking to a camera, posting, commenting, rating and the like. Maybe I’ll meet some new people out of it. Maybe I won’t. Either way, it’s not like I have anything else to do with my time.
Filed under: vlaugust, vlogging, youtube | Leave a Comment
Pain. Lots of Pain.
I have got a massive headache and I just can’t sleep. This is fantastic. I napped from 9:30pm to 1:30am which isn’t too bad for me, but I woke up in excruciating pain. Managed to eat something, then waste time watching Iron Chef American on Youtube, but now here I am at 6:30am and I’m sort of out of ideas of what to do.
I don’t even have anything interesting to write about. Any rants I have that have built up are too hardcore explosive to deal with while in pain, not to mention while I don’t have any cigarettes. Any I don’t have anything mediocre that interests me right now, so there’s no way it would interest anyone else that may happen to read this.
So. Balls.
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Don’t look at me!
I feel like some ridiculous poop.
But for good reasons. I swear.
Went out to a goth night called Ghost Machine at one of the local gay clubs. From 10:30pm to 2:30am is the goth theme, with a drink deal. $10 and you get all the rum and coke you can handle. So needless to say I fulfilled my slight alcohol craving. Not that I drink excessively, but I had gotten used to having a beer or two a week, and I hadn’t had any in a while. But anyways. Was a fun night. Lots of dancing, which I enjoy doing even if I’m terrible at it. Lots of eye candy to stare at. Lots of rum. I think the music was better the last couple times I went, but I dealt with it and just had fun.
But the reason I’m actually writing about the night is because of the hilarity that ensued towards the end of my night at the club.
Goth night used to last until the club closed every Saturday night ( or rather, Sunday morning ). But not too long ago they changed it. Us gothy kids get the club till 2:30am. Then after that, it’s the gay hip hop night.
Yes. Gay hip hop night. Now, I don’t totally understand why the goth kids get the earlier segment of the night. I’m pretty sure we’re the ones that are more likely to still be prowling around at 2:30am. But whatevs, no real complaint since I wouldn’t want to twiddle my thumbs till 2:30 every time I felt like going.
So, Chris had already left and it was just me, Jason and Christa. Christa and I were taking a break from dancing and sitting on some couches near the entrance having a clove or two, when we glance up at the door and the hip hop kids are starting to trickle in. Wait, more like hip hop hoochies. Not to sound racist, but every single person to walk in was a black person, and every black girl was in their finest hoochie wear. One girl was in a super tight, super short white dress. She walked past us and went to sit next to Jason, but before doing so bent over to ask him if the seat was taken. And people, I saw right up into her soul. Her vajayjay soul that is. My goodness.
Christa and I decided that after our smokes were done we’d head out to the floor to dance with the pretty people one more time before booking it. But as we’re finishing up we’re just watching these girls. And some of them look TERRIFIED. Surrounded by goth kids. Corsets and fishnet and chains and piercings and tattoos and technicolor hair. Stomping and flailing and writhing to our own particular brand of clubbing music. One girl wouldn’t even sit on a couch. She perched herself on an end table, trying to take up as little room as possible and not touch anything. Like maybe if she didn’t move, we wouldn’t see her. Acting like she was a fluffy little hoochie bunny and we were all demon possessed wolves. She stared around wide-eyed, watching the dancers in what quite honestly looked like abject terror and brief flashes of panic. I about busted a gut laughing. It’s been a long time since anyone has looked at me like that.
I used to get harassed a bit as a kid for being gothy. Not that I really thought of myself as goth back then. But I hung out with the goth kids. I dressed the part and listened to the music and for the majority of my middle school years no one cared. Till Columbine happened during my 8th grade year. Then the spooky shit hit the fan so to speak. My parents were uncomfortable with the way I dressed for years. My grandparents even moreso. I nearly got kicked out of a Walmart once, just for how I looked. I was a young teen, had gone in with my parents, and while they were checking out I wandered off to use the bathroom. The greeter through a fit and tried to get me to leave. I had to point out my parents, tell her I was simply trying to use the restroom, but if she held me up there any longer, I’d just pee on the floor and it would be her problem.
She let me go pee.
But I haven’t had any sorts of issues like that in many a year. Tattoos are commonplace. Bizarre colored hair is nothing to glance at. Piercings and plugs and dark colored clothing, oh my!
But man. I guess hip hop hoochies have been out of the cultural loop. That or they’re tourists from some itty bitty town way out in the backwoods. In that case, we gave them a hell of a story to go home with.
Filed under: clubbing, ghost machine, goth | Leave a Comment
Just shut the hell up.
People aggravate me so fucking much sometimes.
As of April, according to Google, Nevada has an unemployment rate of 14%. bls.gov confirms this and also let’s us know that this is the highest unemployment rate in the country. I have been trying so, so hard to get a job. I put in applications to everywhere that is possibly hiring, and more than a few that say they aren’t. I worked under the table for a guy in Boulder City for a couple months and that’s all I’ve had in YEARS. Part of the reason being I don’t really have any specific skills. All my experience is in retail and office assistant type things, and there’s plenty of people with more experience in those areas, not to mentions more years of life under their belts, that I haven’t been hired. But it’s not for lack of trying. I would accept just about any legal job that I am capable of doing right now, just to have something.
So, tonight I went out with some friends for a while. And though I’m complaining about something here, they are my friends and I enjoy spending time with them. But they come up with the stupidest reasons for quitting jobs. Not too long ago they were both gainfully employed in a store we all know well. One of them quit because he was having anxiety attacks. I can’t understand that. Maybe not the best reason, and it could have been something he could have worked through, but seeing as I quit a job due to anxiety once too, I don’t have a lot of room to talk about that one. She worked at the same place, then quit it when he did. The reason she told me was there was a “scheduling conflict”. What scheduling conflict? It’s your job. He doesn’t have one anymore so he has nothing but free time. What conflicts with your work? But I didn’t say anything.
Then recently she got hired back at another place she worked at years before. She’s only been there for a short period of time as far as I know. A couple months at the most. She was saying that the hours aren’t very good and no one there really knows what they’re doing. I would listen and just tell her that she’s lucky she has a job.
Then tonight when we were out she checked her back account. After paying her overdraft fees she had less than $100 in the back. And she starts ranting, saying she wants to quit her job. That it’s not giving her what she needs and isn’t doing anything for her. And I lost it. I told her I would LOVE to have a job that gave me $70 every two weeks. Because right now I get absolutely no money and I’m just sinking more and more into debt as my student loans and whatnot that I took out years ago just keep nagging behind me. But I don’t have a job. And I can’t get one no matter how hard I’ve been trying. And that there are a LOT of people in this town that would be happy with any sort of job, any sort of income. And they have NO money. He still doesn’t have a job. They never seem to have money for gas. They pawn things for money and for cigarettes and food. Not judging that, I’ve done it before. But if you have nothing, and you are the only person in the house that is working, you don’t just quit after a few months because it’s not as good as you want. It might not be the best job or the best money in the world, but it’s better than nothing. It’s better than having nothing. And doing nothing.
Ahhhhhh just thinking about it gets me all frustrated all over again.
Filed under: annoyed, work | Leave a Comment
Really.
I am so frustrated with some people lately!
Like one guy that I don’t really know all that well. We were casual friends online about a year or so ago, but he would always ask me and my other female friends for naked pictures or to see us on cam or if we would watch him on cam. We would always just ignore the requests and move on. Not too long ago he IMed me to apologize for treating me like an object back then. And in that same conversation, asked me for naked pictures. Again. And now tonight he’s doing the same thing. Talking to me about porn. Asking to see me on cam. Asking for pictures of me. Asking me to view his cam. Really? I’m glad he quite obviously meant that heartfelt apology he gave me.
Guys are such friggin’ jerks sometimes.
Filed under: annoyed, jerks | 3 Comments
What’s “bad” these days anyways?
Following up my last post about dating, I was browsing some of the recent posts here on WordPress and I stumbled across one asking if men preferred “bad girls”. What really counts as “bad” in this day and age?
And it got me thinking again. Which is a side effect of it being 6:30am and being awake with nothing else to do with your day. Anyways. I was talking to Chris about what I’m looking for in a guy this last Saturday as we were lost and accidentally heading out to the lake in the middle of the night. And what I want is pretty contradictory.
I have a weakness for tall, scrawny, perhaps slightly goofy looking men. The taller the better. I like someone that is passionate about something. Someone who’s a bit nerdy and geeky. Someone that likes music. So far, this all sounds pretty basic, and there’s plenty of men like that out in the world.
But then we get a bit more complex. I want someone spontaneous. Someone that is open to late night random adventures. Someone that can be polite and trustworthy, but maybe sometimes a bit crude. Someone that can be a complete sarcastic, cynical ass now and then. Someone that can handle me.
They need to have gone through some things in their life to date. Men that have always been entirely stable bore me, and I think I might be too harsh and crude for them. It has to be someone that has done stupid, stupid things at one point, but learned from their mistakes and became a better person for it. Someone that will occasionally go out to a goth club with me when I feel like a party, which is rare. Someone that will sit at home with me eating pizza and watching movies all night. Someone that knows how to properly use punctuation and express themselves through the written word. A hopeless romantic. A rebel without a cause. A gamer. Someone to survive a zombie apocalypse with. Someone to laugh with and scream with and cry with and explore life. Someone that not only understands the overwhelming, nonsensical emotions that wash over me when I see something I consider beautiful, but someone that has experienced that too. With an appreciation for things that are sad and lovely and poignant.
Someone that is dominant but not domineering. Someone loving and understanding and supportive. Someone with dreams and goals. A free spirit that knows when I need to be held.
I don’t think all the things I want and need really exist in one man. But how I hope they do. And I hope that all the things he wants and needs exist in me. And that he finds me before the world makes me too bitter to recognize him.
Filed under: dating, love, relationships | Leave a Comment
Dating Sites
I’ve had an account on a free dating site for the last 4 years. Last night I was feeling bored and lonely, so I just started clicking through the guys it suggests as matches for me.
My goodness.
1.) I am AMAZED how many people move to Las Vegas in order to become professional poker players.
2.) I’m also surprised how many ridiculously ripped, egotistical body builders are on it.
And I’m thinking, God I’m so picky. I don’t want to be matched with someone that hasn’t graduated high school. If you profile starts with “My name is ____. I am ___ years old. I like ____, ____, and _____.” I’m going to move on because that’s BORING. If you think “alot” is spelled correctly, I’m going to skip past you. If you don’t use periods, I’m going to skip you. If all your favorite things are stereotypical hipster douchbag answers, I’m going to skip you. If you try too hard to be philosophical and “artistic” but just come across as ignorant and pretentious, I’m going to skip you. If you think you’re God’s gift to everything, I’m going to skip you.
One guy even listed the specific BMI range a girl had to fit into to talk to him.
With this being the range of men I seem to find in Las Vegas, no wonder I’ve been single for over a year and the last two boyfriends I DID have were from California and Arizona, respectively.
Filed under: dating, love, okcupid, relationships | Leave a Comment
No, to be that kind of dreaming girl, I would have to sleep. Which I really have problems doing.
It’s 10:30am. I’ve been awake for roughly 18 hours and show no signs of being able to sleep anytime soon. I can’t sleep until I’m exhausted. Either physically, mentally, emotionally or some combination of the three. And when I can’t sleep I get anxious and start having panic attacks for no apparent reason. So I’m pretty much on the edge of lucid thoughts at the moment.
I can’t sleep until I’m exhausted because otherwise my brain doesn’t stop. I can’t stop thinking about negative things. Bad things that have happened to me recently, or bad things I worry about happening to me.
Today I think it’s because when I came home last night Dad freaked out. He didn’t think I was going to be out that late, and ever since he was in the hospital, then his dad was in the hospital, he’s been more on edge than ever. Which is saying something since we’re pretty sure I get at least some of my anxiety issues from him. So last night he freaked out on me, leading me to hole myself up in the bathroom to cry and hyperventilate for a little bit. And ever since then I’ve been completely on edge and can’t get comfortable for the life of me. I just feel like breaking down in tears and throwing up.
What a stupid thing to get all bent out of shape about. I don’t know how to handle my anxiety as well as I act like I do. I just want to sleep. I want a nice, steady, refreshing eight hours of sleep. I’m all out of sleeping pills, and I can’t ask them to buy me more, so I’m stuck trying desperately to fall asleep like normal people do, all the while inching ever closer to a full blown panic attack and hallucinations.
My brain just doesn’t work quite right.
God, I wish I could sleep.
Filed under: dad, mental, sleep | Leave a Comment
That’s cute.
Went out downtown last night with Christa to just wander to strip and take random pictures. We got into a conversation about what sort of pictures we prefer taking. She leans towards landscapes and nature. I prefer candid shots of people, and urban scenes with a bit of a grungy feel to them. I’ll have to put my pictures up on flikr later.
After we got to my house, much later in the night, we were looking up random people we knew on Facebook seeing as Jason has been out of the loop for quite a while. On a whim I looked up Ryan so I could show them his new girlfriend. She had a photo album titled “Ryan and I” so naturally I had to take a look. And while it did make me a little sad, more than anything it made me laugh.
There were pictures of him in various places and situations, but what made me laugh quite literally outloud were her captions. Things like “Only I know what this smile means”. Lady, I invented that smile on him. I know exactly what that smile means. I know the tone of his voice when he’s smiling. I could hear his smile in his voice. I could tell you about each and every one of his smile lines. I have seven years worth of that smile under my belt. And he doesn’t look at her in those pictures like he looked at me. Sure, he’s happy. Sure, you can tell he loves her. But not like he loved me. He and I were a different kind of love. One that may have been too intense and passionate for our own good, and it burnt out.
But I can’t help but notice every picture on his profile is one from the life he and I had together. His default is one I took of him. His albums are ones of what we did together while living together in Reno. He and I are almost completely out of contact. But, he still called me once, drunk off his ass. Talked to me for hours. Told me he still believes I’m his soul mate.
I’m not saying I want him back. He’s not any good for me, especially not the way he is now. He hurt me too much to take any of that back. But it just makes me smile in a sad but cynically amused way to see her thinking she’s the first for him for anything. I guarantee you at least 50% of the things he’s done with her, said to her, were things he did and said with me. Maybe not now that they’ve been together for a bit, but most definitely in the infancy of their relationship.
I know him better than anyone. Inside and out. I know his mind, his heart, his body, his soul.
So don’t think that little quirky smile is just for you. He’s given it to me long before he knew you. Those eyes of his held so much more intensity for me once.
And, even though I know in my heart of hearts that that’s true, it means nothing. Because before you, there was someone else too. There was a cheap prostitute on the streets of Reno that he gave that smile to. That he paid to respond in kind. He’s not the best person in the world. And for me at least, he’s unforgivable. But you, you get that smile for now. Just watch out for what lurks behind it.
Filed under: love, photography, relationships, Ryan | Leave a Comment
