2005-09-04 - 11:21 p.m.

oooo, i am a ter-ror as thirty.

all the sudden that level of riotious self just cemented with rambunctious abandon.

i was at my good friends house tonight for an intimate dinner party and i rocked, "well in my twenties..." already once.

as i walked up i visually sideswiped a nice looking adult male also walking into the party. hmm, interest suddenly peaking. i walk up to cat calling me from the balcony. i love her. i enter the kitchen and notice this brown haired appeasing looking guy that smells just like an adult. like the type i'm newly appointed to give a standing chance.

like the type i secretly can't wait to love. can't wait to share with. laugh with. fall with. tumble.

the dinner was amazing. my friend is so very cool. he's this sharp witted new yorker who is filled brillant precision and cynism. wit mixed with a razor sharp edge. he's the one i went to liberty city with for the election. he's a doer. incredible rebel. i would want to be with him with the grave exception that cat has had a "thing" even tho they are only friends and she's with someone, it's a line i'd never cross. and they both know it. and he's too combative. it'd be a life of fights. of tearing down. and not in the seductive way that busy provides, the illusive way where you get that ounce and it fills you for months. for some reason he just doesn't trigger me in that way. i simply am filled with respect for him. tomorrow we are volunteering to fill trucks with goods for the south. i found out he organized and is paying for it all himself. because he doesn't want to wait for the government, he'll do it himself.

he is so cool because he live such a life of selection and yet isn't into snobbery. he had there this guy full of tattoo's, cat and i and this new guy. swordfish and white wine that tasted like clean water honey.

the new guy turns out to be very interesting. enough to cause me that inevitable self protective reaction of wanting to push. i spent the day reading about opening the heart, leading with love. that shyness is not adorable, it's just fear with a neeter name. fear. blanketed in fear. so i consciously stay in the game. looking into his eyes, letting myself fall into conversation. expressing thoughts. he grew up in russia, near chernoble. no accent at all. defected with his family at eleven. created his own major at berkeley. is a painter, has a day job because he is too attracted to living well as he describes it. very into his art. has this great open energy.

we are all talking and suddenly two beautiful women arrive. i am off in the kitchen or something. next thing i know he's playing his attention to this tall, thin, young women that looks like some yoga girl who is a bartender. i resist wanting to make her evil. wanting to compete. i hate making other women wrong at the expense of men. as cat says, ho's before bro's.

i come back to the table and we are all talking. at some point she is readying herself to leave and he stands and somewhat subtly turns and i see his phone out, he's getting her number saying something like, "i'd love to...". he's made his move.

checkmate.

i'm move right by, am on the patio on the phone. thinking to myself. "okay, open. remain open when every instinct wants to cry out, 'fuck it! i tried this open stuff, now i'll go back to self protection and get krunked.' so this is what like is? this is what being in the game is? ouch."

the woman leaves, we are all cleaning up the table...akward, i make a move to leave, am hugging everyone in my wake, i tell him nice to meet you blablabla, he pulls out his phone, "let me get your number, i'm sure we have a lot to talk about art etc." at first i uncomfortably said okay as i negotiated for some space. we move closer to exit and i say, "no. ya know, i'm not going to give you my number. you're not getting two tonight. you made your choice and i don't play seconds."

look of total shock and awe.

me: "you know exactly what i'm talking about. and i'm sure you'll be thinking about it in the morning."

he: "i'm thinking about it now."

me: "hmmm". sideways glance into his eyes, "good your quick."

pause, thinking, oo now, am i hurting him? is this too much? truth. brutality. i want him to know i like him, but i have a line in the sand that i'm playfully fingering.

me: trying, "which is too bad because i think you are very interesting."

at some point i nudge him, trying to soften more, "sorry, i'm trying out my new 30 year old sense of self."

he's stumbling now as it's all closing in on him, "well, yes, i'm very resourceful."

me thinking, oo good, maybe i'll be worth enough to him to track me down.

"we're both artists, maybe we'll run into eachother again."

deflation.

somehow i uncomfortably toss another goodbye at the host and start my descent down the stairs, to which the very smart vocal other guest said, aren't you too walking out together? i overhear him pausing to leave at a seperate time, "no, by her choice."

fucking asshole.

i'm sorry.

i'm *very* fucking irish.

stubborn.

the world would make much better sense of me if i had a head of red.

i feel bad about being harsh. but cooommmeee on. we make this great conversation all night, quality. and this tall cup of cake comes in and he's all over her digits? i know we are all single, but tact. integrity. soul.
pullleeezzee, if he's someone still seeking to run around "getting" as much as he can, dates, numbers, chances, then fuck that. i can go get that in gerth from busy. fuck that. (i say fuck a lot as a transperent mask over my hurt. raw. hurt. sensitive i am. with a *hard* candy shell.) if he's not someone large enough, unafraid enough to stand up to my in-the-face challenge of character, then i don't want what he has anyway.
......

...
..
.
or was i running?

from a first whiff of real?

from that evidence i was just asking for?

both. reality always swinging between the variety of persceptions.

as i drove off, i felt that horrible feeling that i just left something behind. that some cavernous space inside didn't get a proper fill. and i remembered, if love is already in me, i don't need it from another. if truth is in me, confidence, then i don't need anothers confirmation.

that's all new for me. i have been addicted to validation, confirmation. need.

i can't wait to see what my friend/host says about it tomorrow. he's got a very rough grain to him, sanding away anyone slightly unworthy. he'll give to me what i just can't give to myself right now. solidarity.

pss. cat and her boy and i talked about pirates and ballerinas. which soon became a trip to baja for day of the dead with the pirate and ballerina theme.