I rang in the new year by jacking off some random guy in the attic of someone's house. In a room with no door, I might add. I didn't especially want to, but I calculated how much effort it would take to go through the argument that would surely ensue if I said no, and I decided that I'd be back downstairs quicker if I just did it and got it over with. Plus, I was on ecstasy, so I only half-cared.
It all started with that damned midnight kiss. I looked around for someone to kiss and saw this guy. We'd had a conversation earlier, and I figured for the 20 seconds worth of kissing that I was looking for, that was good enough. Well, 20 seconds of kissing (and bad kissing, I might add) led to a trip to the attic, which led to some questionable stains on my jeans. lurpy noticed a stain on my jeans at dinner the next day, and said I should do laundry. I explained that I didn't want to, as I'd done laundry the day before. Before he realized what he was saying, he suggested that maybe I should do a "special load." Ugh ...
I did meet some good people at that first party. There was one person especially ... when we first met, I found him really annoying and didn't think we'd get along well at all, but by the end of the night, I thought he was just the cat's meow. Now I can't wait to talk to him again.
Also, there was a magical little moment on the porch. I was standing on the porch with two smokers, and a man walked by and tried to bum $5 off of us, for a pack of cigarettes. None of us really understood at first that he wanted cigarettes, but when I finally got that, I told him to wait right there. I had had a carton of cigarettes languishing in my freezer ever since I quit two months ago (I had planned on giving them to He Who Shall Remain Nameless, but he never comes around anymore, and anyway, that's another story), and I knew that they were going to be doing a gift exchange at this party, so I brought them with me, figuring surely someone would want them. So I ran inside, grabbed them, and tossed them to this very confused man who, actually, wasn't half as appreciative as I expected him to be. Still, it felt really good to do it.
Anyhow, in the very wee hours on January 1st, I left the first party and headed out to a second party. By the time I arrived there, there were only two other people left awake, one of whom was very drunk and passed out shortly after my arrival. That was fine, because I had a great conversation with the other guy. We went out into the pre-dawn streets ... took an ambling walk to the gas station, and it felt just perfect to me: spending the first morning of the new year seeing this very private vision of Bloomfield, all back alleys and flashing traffic lights, quiet, save for the occasional jogger or dog-walker.
He kept playing with my hair, and playing the ecstasy hand game, lightly tracing his fingers over mine, and it was all very ethereal. We were like fast friends, and I was quite pleased that my evening seemed to be ending much better than it started.
And then, somehow, it was time to go home. I wrote out my phone number and email address for him. He said thanks and left. Harumph. I'm not even sure he said "thanks."
Which is, of course, not a huge crisis, by any stretch. Just another one of those little moments in life ... two steps forward, three steps back. And anyway, after some much needed sleep, I ended up at Milky Way with lurpy, ogling foxy boys (and exchanging email addresses with the foxy Israeli boy who looks just like bishopjoey).