 You are pure, moral, and adaptable. You tend to blend into your surroundings. Shy on the outside, you're outspoken to your friends. You believe that you live a virtuous life... And you tend to judge others with a harsh eye. As a result, people tend to crave your approval. |
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Dance 360
Am I the only one watching Dance 360?
Tag 'em in, tag 'em in... Head to head, head to head!
Okay, but remember the original B-boy, Super Greg?
He was the bomb.
Monday, July 18, 2005
I Have an Internet Boyfriend
I've been chatting with Pookie (not his real screen name) for a while. About 3 years or so. Maybe longer. I nicknamed him Pookie after watching a marathon of the VH1 show Strange Love. Brigitte Nielsen and Flava Flav... Brigitte called Flav "Foofie Foofie". I decided I needed a Foofie Foofie, and my Pookie fits the bill. We've entertained each other, made each other laugh, shared hot intimate moments, supported one another through breakups, scolded one another when we got out of line... typical good friend stuff.
Pookie is a very attractive healthy male from Chicago. When I look at Pookie on his webcam, he makes me feel like I want to jump through the monitor and sit in his lap. Pookie is also attracted to me, and sometimes I wear special accessories on webcam that no one else has seen. He has seen me without makeup, just back from a sweaty workout, first thing in the morning and right before I leave for work. He is sweet enough to say that I look great no matter how I look.
Pooks is a workaholic, I think. I seem to attract them. I sort of like the situation sometimes, because I am the reprieve from the busy day, I am the mini-vacation they won't take. They appreciate me for what I offer, and tend not to smother me. They just don't have the time.
We've developed a bit of a psychic connection, even though we've never met in person. I tend to develop these types of connections with people I care for, usually close friends and lovers. Sometimes he hears my thoughts, sometimes I can close my eyes and see where he is. He's a skeptical Virgo, so we've run some tests to check the connection. He's flabbergasted, but to me it's pretty normal.
Pookie and I keep each other updated on our dating and sex lives. He was dating an Australian pilot who also happened to be a total psycho, and he was truly happy for me when I thought I had found "the One". When that "One" decided he was too fucked in the head to continue an adult relationship, Pookie was there to console me. I was a hormonal emotional mess due to the birth control pill, and he just talked me through everything and let me cry and wonder WHY until I got off the pill and onto a more rational state of mind, where I was calling the One "the Fish Fucker". Someday I will get to the point of indifference, but that time has not yet come.
Shortly after my loss, Pooks had his own crisis. We talked, we went over the details, the phone calls, the possibilities. Pooks had to end that one, and she didn't go gracefully. You know when a fellow member of your gender is acting like a fool and you feel embarrassed for them? Simply being of the same gender, you want to reach out and say, "Whoa, hold on sister. You're embarrassing yourself. Do a reality check, FAST." because they obviously have no same sex friends who will tell them. I ended up telling her via email, when stalking and just plain weird behavior escalated. We had it out on a few back and forths, and long story short, I won.
After my Wal Mart dude (see below post) raved about his love for camping and water slides, I declared that I would tell everyone I am unavailable. I have an internet boyfriend. Who has strange taste in music. And sometimes wears red dress shirts to business meetings while out of the country. And I accept all of that. Because who else understands the mossy feel in your mouth after eating a bag of baby spinach? Because who else eats a bag of baby spinach?
I have a trip to Chicago planned in the fall. Pookie is definitely on the agenda. I am open to hating him, making a good friend, having dinner and calling it a night, really liking him and not wanting to leave or being annoyed but still liking him as a brother. Anything could happen, and usually does when it involves the internet and a man.
Pookie is a very attractive healthy male from Chicago. When I look at Pookie on his webcam, he makes me feel like I want to jump through the monitor and sit in his lap. Pookie is also attracted to me, and sometimes I wear special accessories on webcam that no one else has seen. He has seen me without makeup, just back from a sweaty workout, first thing in the morning and right before I leave for work. He is sweet enough to say that I look great no matter how I look.
Pooks is a workaholic, I think. I seem to attract them. I sort of like the situation sometimes, because I am the reprieve from the busy day, I am the mini-vacation they won't take. They appreciate me for what I offer, and tend not to smother me. They just don't have the time.
We've developed a bit of a psychic connection, even though we've never met in person. I tend to develop these types of connections with people I care for, usually close friends and lovers. Sometimes he hears my thoughts, sometimes I can close my eyes and see where he is. He's a skeptical Virgo, so we've run some tests to check the connection. He's flabbergasted, but to me it's pretty normal.
Pookie and I keep each other updated on our dating and sex lives. He was dating an Australian pilot who also happened to be a total psycho, and he was truly happy for me when I thought I had found "the One". When that "One" decided he was too fucked in the head to continue an adult relationship, Pookie was there to console me. I was a hormonal emotional mess due to the birth control pill, and he just talked me through everything and let me cry and wonder WHY until I got off the pill and onto a more rational state of mind, where I was calling the One "the Fish Fucker". Someday I will get to the point of indifference, but that time has not yet come.
Shortly after my loss, Pooks had his own crisis. We talked, we went over the details, the phone calls, the possibilities. Pooks had to end that one, and she didn't go gracefully. You know when a fellow member of your gender is acting like a fool and you feel embarrassed for them? Simply being of the same gender, you want to reach out and say, "Whoa, hold on sister. You're embarrassing yourself. Do a reality check, FAST." because they obviously have no same sex friends who will tell them. I ended up telling her via email, when stalking and just plain weird behavior escalated. We had it out on a few back and forths, and long story short, I won.
After my Wal Mart dude (see below post) raved about his love for camping and water slides, I declared that I would tell everyone I am unavailable. I have an internet boyfriend. Who has strange taste in music. And sometimes wears red dress shirts to business meetings while out of the country. And I accept all of that. Because who else understands the mossy feel in your mouth after eating a bag of baby spinach? Because who else eats a bag of baby spinach?
I have a trip to Chicago planned in the fall. Pookie is definitely on the agenda. I am open to hating him, making a good friend, having dinner and calling it a night, really liking him and not wanting to leave or being annoyed but still liking him as a brother. Anything could happen, and usually does when it involves the internet and a man.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Dating is Slow
I'm going through a lull in dating. So I'll update with my recent dating failures.
I'll get to this guy with the Prowler in a second.
I've met men, talked to men, but nothing promising. I know I live in NH, but is EVERY man only into camping, hunting and fishing for fun? I even updated my match.com profile to specifically exclude these activities.
I was picked up last week by a man in Wal Mart. I went there after work to buy some soup. There's always a strange element at the Concord, NH Wal Mart, but at 11:30 pm, people get even weirder. So I hardly noticed a man staring at me throughout the store.
When he finally approached, he was VERY nervous. So nervous that I thought he might be strung out on some drug. He said I looked very familiar and didn't know where he knew me from. After a few minutes of discussing where we grew up, we could make no connected as to how he knew me. Not surprising.
He was there to buy Benadryl for his dog. Apparently the dog was itchy. I eventually gave him my number because #1 He had the balls to approach me - not many men do and #2 He wasn't nasty.
Even though I told dude I was there after work (reasonable assumption would be that I work at night), he called no fewer than THREE times the next day between 8-10 pm. Two messages and a hang up. He called again the morning after that, so we spoke. He said he is divorced, has an an eleven year old son, and loves to go camping, fishing and hunting.
Is that not a match or what [sarcasm]? It's funny how men list their own interests and expect you to want to do all sorts of manly things with them. I discussed this with my mom yesterday. If a man asks a woman what she likes to do for fun, do we answer with, "I like to go shoe shopping, paint my nails, go to the spa and have drinks with the girls"? No. We list things that we like to do with men, our partners, our dates. Are men really that clueless?
I asked him what he likes to do on dates with women. He said, "I don't know. I guess go out to eat. Maybe a water park. You know, with water slides?"
This is when I acknowledged ONCE AGAIN that my love life is a joke, and that someone up there is just laughing their ass off at my love life. I rolled my eyes. He asked if he could call me again that night. I'm not into being smothered, and several phone calls throughout the day "just to talk" are a big turn off to me. I asked him to call me the next day, or maybe the day after that. He hasn't called, so that's probably for the best.
Failure #2
Meet Jim.
Jim is a match.com reject. You wouldn't think so once you hear all he has to offer.
Jim is:
1. A scientist for a semiconductor company
2. The holder of a couple patents in his field
3. Greek and Italian, with an accent
4. The owner of a "yacht"
5. Also the proprieter of a photo studio
6. Single and looking to settle down
7. Well educated. A master's from MIT and several advanced degrees
8. A dog-lover
9. Clearly in shape and takes care of his temple
10. In addition to being a scientist and professional photographer, also sells ladies handbags at house parties
Anyone who has been out there dating is certainly skeptical of all his attributes. Does a scientist make enough money to acquire all these toys? Or is he a drug dealer?
But he has the kind of body that you could use as a jungle gym (Jungle Jim?) for at least a few weeks before you get bored with him. So I continued to correspond with him. If anything, I thought, I'd meet him to have another crazy funny story to tell.
After he emailed me from the yacht in Nantucket, Jim and I finally spoke on the phone. It was a tough call. It was noon, and he had just woken up. He was out late the night before, partying and drinking. Jim is 37 years old and wakes up at noon, hungover. Impressive. We spoke for about an hour, and I think I spoke maybe 2-3 minutes of that. Jim gave me his entire background, including his education, where his parents live (dad in Italy, mom South of France), how he acquired all the toys (parents paid for anything he wanted while in school - which might explain why he's a lifelong student), his past relationships, and his dogs. Ah the dogs.
Jim explained that the most tragic event in his life was when his dog died. It's been 9 years since the dog's passing and he is just now able to look at old photographs. He has a new dog now, who has his own set of toys, including a little dinghy beside the yacht.
When I was able to get a word in, I mentioned I was dog-sitting my mom's Pomeranian. He asked me far more questions about the dog than he did about me! But even that didn't last long, as he was also running errands while giving me his autobiography.
He asked me to hold while he paid for a bottle of Bufferin (for the dog's arthritis, of course) in Rite Aid. Then he had to get a coffee. On a first phone call. This brings up bad feelings for me from way back (sit down and talk to me, and if you can't, call later!), so I was turned off even more than I was from Jim's non-stop talk fest.
Jim said he took his match.com profile down because a girl in Miami had done something very mean to it. It was a very long story, did I have time to hear it? I said no. I don't have time. I have to go. I'll call you in a few days.
I didn't call him again. Normally I would just tell someone I didn't think there was much of a connection or chemistry, so they wouldn't expect a call. But Jim was clearly in his own world and probably wouldn't miss my phone call.
I'll get to this guy with the Prowler in a second.
I've met men, talked to men, but nothing promising. I know I live in NH, but is EVERY man only into camping, hunting and fishing for fun? I even updated my match.com profile to specifically exclude these activities.
I was picked up last week by a man in Wal Mart. I went there after work to buy some soup. There's always a strange element at the Concord, NH Wal Mart, but at 11:30 pm, people get even weirder. So I hardly noticed a man staring at me throughout the store.
When he finally approached, he was VERY nervous. So nervous that I thought he might be strung out on some drug. He said I looked very familiar and didn't know where he knew me from. After a few minutes of discussing where we grew up, we could make no connected as to how he knew me. Not surprising.
He was there to buy Benadryl for his dog. Apparently the dog was itchy. I eventually gave him my number because #1 He had the balls to approach me - not many men do and #2 He wasn't nasty.
Even though I told dude I was there after work (reasonable assumption would be that I work at night), he called no fewer than THREE times the next day between 8-10 pm. Two messages and a hang up. He called again the morning after that, so we spoke. He said he is divorced, has an an eleven year old son, and loves to go camping, fishing and hunting.
Is that not a match or what [sarcasm]? It's funny how men list their own interests and expect you to want to do all sorts of manly things with them. I discussed this with my mom yesterday. If a man asks a woman what she likes to do for fun, do we answer with, "I like to go shoe shopping, paint my nails, go to the spa and have drinks with the girls"? No. We list things that we like to do with men, our partners, our dates. Are men really that clueless?
I asked him what he likes to do on dates with women. He said, "I don't know. I guess go out to eat. Maybe a water park. You know, with water slides?"
This is when I acknowledged ONCE AGAIN that my love life is a joke, and that someone up there is just laughing their ass off at my love life. I rolled my eyes. He asked if he could call me again that night. I'm not into being smothered, and several phone calls throughout the day "just to talk" are a big turn off to me. I asked him to call me the next day, or maybe the day after that. He hasn't called, so that's probably for the best.
Failure #2
Meet Jim.
Jim is a match.com reject. You wouldn't think so once you hear all he has to offer.
Jim is:
1. A scientist for a semiconductor company
2. The holder of a couple patents in his field
3. Greek and Italian, with an accent
4. The owner of a "yacht"
5. Also the proprieter of a photo studio
6. Single and looking to settle down
7. Well educated. A master's from MIT and several advanced degrees
8. A dog-lover
9. Clearly in shape and takes care of his temple
10. In addition to being a scientist and professional photographer, also sells ladies handbags at house parties
Anyone who has been out there dating is certainly skeptical of all his attributes. Does a scientist make enough money to acquire all these toys? Or is he a drug dealer?
But he has the kind of body that you could use as a jungle gym (Jungle Jim?) for at least a few weeks before you get bored with him. So I continued to correspond with him. If anything, I thought, I'd meet him to have another crazy funny story to tell.
After he emailed me from the yacht in Nantucket, Jim and I finally spoke on the phone. It was a tough call. It was noon, and he had just woken up. He was out late the night before, partying and drinking. Jim is 37 years old and wakes up at noon, hungover. Impressive. We spoke for about an hour, and I think I spoke maybe 2-3 minutes of that. Jim gave me his entire background, including his education, where his parents live (dad in Italy, mom South of France), how he acquired all the toys (parents paid for anything he wanted while in school - which might explain why he's a lifelong student), his past relationships, and his dogs. Ah the dogs.
Jim explained that the most tragic event in his life was when his dog died. It's been 9 years since the dog's passing and he is just now able to look at old photographs. He has a new dog now, who has his own set of toys, including a little dinghy beside the yacht.
When I was able to get a word in, I mentioned I was dog-sitting my mom's Pomeranian. He asked me far more questions about the dog than he did about me! But even that didn't last long, as he was also running errands while giving me his autobiography.
He asked me to hold while he paid for a bottle of Bufferin (for the dog's arthritis, of course) in Rite Aid. Then he had to get a coffee. On a first phone call. This brings up bad feelings for me from way back (sit down and talk to me, and if you can't, call later!), so I was turned off even more than I was from Jim's non-stop talk fest.
Jim said he took his match.com profile down because a girl in Miami had done something very mean to it. It was a very long story, did I have time to hear it? I said no. I don't have time. I have to go. I'll call you in a few days.
I didn't call him again. Normally I would just tell someone I didn't think there was much of a connection or chemistry, so they wouldn't expect a call. But Jim was clearly in his own world and probably wouldn't miss my phone call.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Pulled Over by the Police AGAIN
It may be because I leave work at 11 pm, but I have been pulled over by the police twice in the past 2 weeks. The most recent was tonight. Both for the same reason - running red lights. About a month ago, while driving home from Chen Yang Li, I got pulled over for "approaching the toll booth too fast" (just a warning since he couldn't tell me how fast I was approaching).
I am almost always honest with cops when I get pulled over. I tell them I coasted through the yellow light, or I thought I could make it, etc. I was let go last week with a warning, and again tonight with another warning. But tonight it was a little different. Dude couldn't stop smiling at me. And dude was kind of attractive, in a non-cop way. He asked me how my driving record was, and I told him, "Not so good".
He checked my license, didn't notice my car still isn't inspected (just my own laziness, nothing is wrong with my car), and told me he was giving me "the break of a lifetime". I was tempted to ask him back to my place to break my back, but I kept it under control (it's this summer heat and lack of relationship that's getting to me).
I half expected him to ask me out or if I had a boyfriend, the vibes were that strong. But instead, he smiled again and went back to his cruiser. So he's:
A. Married / Has a girlfriend
B. Gay and just liked my hair
or
C. Was on duty and kept his cool.
Just in case it was C., I came home and pulled up Craigslist and posted a Missed Connection. Here's my post: http://boston.craigslist.org/mis/83305160.html
Southern NH people also read Boston Craigslist, and although it's a very long shot, I'm hoping he or someone he knows will see it and tell him, email me, take me out next weekend and within 4 weeks will have me in handcuffs.
I'll keep you posted.
I am almost always honest with cops when I get pulled over. I tell them I coasted through the yellow light, or I thought I could make it, etc. I was let go last week with a warning, and again tonight with another warning. But tonight it was a little different. Dude couldn't stop smiling at me. And dude was kind of attractive, in a non-cop way. He asked me how my driving record was, and I told him, "Not so good".
He checked my license, didn't notice my car still isn't inspected (just my own laziness, nothing is wrong with my car), and told me he was giving me "the break of a lifetime". I was tempted to ask him back to my place to break my back, but I kept it under control (it's this summer heat and lack of relationship that's getting to me).
I half expected him to ask me out or if I had a boyfriend, the vibes were that strong. But instead, he smiled again and went back to his cruiser. So he's:
A. Married / Has a girlfriend
B. Gay and just liked my hair
or
C. Was on duty and kept his cool.
Just in case it was C., I came home and pulled up Craigslist and posted a Missed Connection. Here's my post: http://boston.craigslist.org/mis/83305160.html
Southern NH people also read Boston Craigslist, and although it's a very long shot, I'm hoping he or someone he knows will see it and tell him, email me, take me out next weekend and within 4 weeks will have me in handcuffs.
I'll keep you posted.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Part III
Richard began introducing to me to more of his culture. Without his knowing, I bought a book called The Immaculate Invasion. It was the most current book on Haiti and described the US Marines presence in Haiti. I asked him questions about certain Creole words I didn’t understand (like ton ton macoutes) but were essential to understand the story. My ignorance of Haiti and Haitian culture was broad. He shared more when he realized I was interested. I didn’t believe half of the things he told me, because they seemed so outlandish and improbable. Since then, I know he hadn’t shared the worst of it with me. There were good reasons his family came here when he was just 14 years old.
We entered autumn together. I wondered how many seasons we would spend together. We walked along the path at the Salem Willows as the leaves began to turn color, and I expressed out loud how good it felt to be entering a new season with him. I thought we would be together a long time.
We discussed children and marriage. I had concerns about raising biracial children, and what they would endure. Richard took this to mean that I didn’t want biracial children. I wanted to talk more about it and explore the possibility. I had never wanted children, and don’t now, but with him, I pictured us with ten kids, in a somewhat chaotic but very loving household. He is the only man I could have seen myself having children with. Even with this, Richard took my concerns as a personal rejection of his culture, and possibly of him. I tried to explain that to me, having children is such a monumental and important step, and I needed to explore every aspect of it, including any hardships my children would have to endure.
Richard and I had experienced different levels of racism as a couple, from both whites and blacks. It was worse in Boston. White men would look at me with disgust, and black females would subtly give me a hard time. Nothing outright rude or disrespectful, but some were sure to let me know that I didn’t belong. I felt sorry for both sides and hoped that they could experience the type of love Richard and I had, regardless of skin color.
He was somewhat possessive of me. This hadn’t bothered me. I think now I was comfortable with it because of my relationship with my father (which is a whole story unto itself). He was mildly jealous, a tad insecure about the relationship itself – I think due to his prior girlfriend’s infidelity. I was okay with it, everyone has their baggage… and when I got sick of it, I would tell him, “This is ME. I don’t do that. I’M not like that. If you want to be treated like shit, I’m not the one”. It would jolt him back to reality for a period of time, and I knew it would take some time and some trust building within himself to work it out.
Richard made me sad twice. One time was when he brought me into his mind for a brief glimpse at how he saw me. I felt my heart sink.
We entered autumn together. I wondered how many seasons we would spend together. We walked along the path at the Salem Willows as the leaves began to turn color, and I expressed out loud how good it felt to be entering a new season with him. I thought we would be together a long time.
We discussed children and marriage. I had concerns about raising biracial children, and what they would endure. Richard took this to mean that I didn’t want biracial children. I wanted to talk more about it and explore the possibility. I had never wanted children, and don’t now, but with him, I pictured us with ten kids, in a somewhat chaotic but very loving household. He is the only man I could have seen myself having children with. Even with this, Richard took my concerns as a personal rejection of his culture, and possibly of him. I tried to explain that to me, having children is such a monumental and important step, and I needed to explore every aspect of it, including any hardships my children would have to endure.
Richard and I had experienced different levels of racism as a couple, from both whites and blacks. It was worse in Boston. White men would look at me with disgust, and black females would subtly give me a hard time. Nothing outright rude or disrespectful, but some were sure to let me know that I didn’t belong. I felt sorry for both sides and hoped that they could experience the type of love Richard and I had, regardless of skin color.
He was somewhat possessive of me. This hadn’t bothered me. I think now I was comfortable with it because of my relationship with my father (which is a whole story unto itself). He was mildly jealous, a tad insecure about the relationship itself – I think due to his prior girlfriend’s infidelity. I was okay with it, everyone has their baggage… and when I got sick of it, I would tell him, “This is ME. I don’t do that. I’M not like that. If you want to be treated like shit, I’m not the one”. It would jolt him back to reality for a period of time, and I knew it would take some time and some trust building within himself to work it out.
Richard made me sad twice. One time was when he brought me into his mind for a brief glimpse at how he saw me. I felt my heart sink.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
It Sure is Getting Hot
Summer is here ladies. It's hot, it's sunny... summer makes you want to put a tube top on and go man watching. Well, it does to me!
Here are some of my A-list hot men. They may not be sexy or even attractive to some, but these are a few who make me get that really funny feeling. You know what I mean.
#1 John Malkovich
Fuck! He's hot. The man has an unbelievable voice that soothes and excites all at the same time... he's intense and I'll bet he has some skills.
#2 Chris Noth
Ok, so you may know him as Mr. Big. Is he not just lickable? I'll bet he can get into some shenanigans.
#3 Paco
I know Paco because he is a beautiful Spaniard who visits Boston a few times a year, so I made it my business to know him. He is polite, charming and humble. The smile... the eyes... perfectly symmetrical physique... this man gives me a very funny feeling deep inside.
#4 Jim Cramer
Mr. Cramer founded thestreet.com, has an entertaining radio show called Real Money, and hosts a show on CNBC called Mad Money. He is the author of one of my favorite books, Confessions of a Street Addict. If you've seen him on tv, he's usually yelling or at least very animated. He cuts through the bullshit of investing and trading, and I love his straightforward approach.
I'm not sure why I find Jim so appealing, but I get excited when I see him. We met in Boston a few years ago at a financial expo, and he signed my copy of Confessions. He looked great, and I, unfortunately, had a fever. Jim is happily married to the Trading Goddess, Karen and has a daughter, so I will respectfully say that he is a very attractive, stimulating, sexy (damn! I can't help myself!) man.
#5 Dave Attell - the hottie on the left
Some of you already know my history with Dave. Back when I had cable TV, I used to watch Insomniac on Comedy Central. Dave was appealing in an odd way. He looked like he just needed some Becky lovin' in a bad way. But how would he know that he needed it if he'd never met me? I decided to meet him.
Long story short (my male friends are saying, "Thank God!"), I went, alone, to his stand up show in Hampton, NH, got a front seat and waited afterwards to meet him in person. There was a long line of fans waiting for him, and I kept moving to the back of the line so we might have more time to talk. I ended up writing him a short note with my phone number, and when it was my turn to approach, I swore my heart was beating so loud he could hear it.
I shook his hand, placed the note inside, he said, "Ooh, a note", without letting my hand go and pulled me into him for a hug. His other hand felt very hot on my back and I really just wanted to get out of the horrid venue and go sit and "talk" with him.
He didn't call. My Venus is in Aries, so I can be a little persistant when it comes to these things... so I emailed a short note to an email address I found on his website. I got a reply, I replied, and the next came back from his personal email address. He said he thought I was with a guy that night (duh, that's why I went alone!). We emailed for a few months, he updated me on his travels and sent a few pics.
Dave admits to being a "liquid adventurer" (his words) and a workaholic. Not my style. Had to let that one go. :-(
#6 James Dean
James Dean was the type of guy that would make any woman, no matter how assertive, circle her foot on the floor while looking up and back down sheepishly. He was masculine and his presence seemed comforting and troubling at the same time. Who wouldn't love a chance to kiss him once? There is a resemblance between him and my ex-fiance, Rob.
Who gets you hot? Men can participate, too!
Here are some of my A-list hot men. They may not be sexy or even attractive to some, but these are a few who make me get that really funny feeling. You know what I mean.
#1 John Malkovich
Fuck! He's hot. The man has an unbelievable voice that soothes and excites all at the same time... he's intense and I'll bet he has some skills.
#2 Chris Noth
Ok, so you may know him as Mr. Big. Is he not just lickable? I'll bet he can get into some shenanigans.
#3 Paco
I know Paco because he is a beautiful Spaniard who visits Boston a few times a year, so I made it my business to know him. He is polite, charming and humble. The smile... the eyes... perfectly symmetrical physique... this man gives me a very funny feeling deep inside.
#4 Jim Cramer
Mr. Cramer founded thestreet.com, has an entertaining radio show called Real Money, and hosts a show on CNBC called Mad Money. He is the author of one of my favorite books, Confessions of a Street Addict. If you've seen him on tv, he's usually yelling or at least very animated. He cuts through the bullshit of investing and trading, and I love his straightforward approach.
I'm not sure why I find Jim so appealing, but I get excited when I see him. We met in Boston a few years ago at a financial expo, and he signed my copy of Confessions. He looked great, and I, unfortunately, had a fever. Jim is happily married to the Trading Goddess, Karen and has a daughter, so I will respectfully say that he is a very attractive, stimulating, sexy (damn! I can't help myself!) man.
#5 Dave Attell - the hottie on the left
Some of you already know my history with Dave. Back when I had cable TV, I used to watch Insomniac on Comedy Central. Dave was appealing in an odd way. He looked like he just needed some Becky lovin' in a bad way. But how would he know that he needed it if he'd never met me? I decided to meet him.
Long story short (my male friends are saying, "Thank God!"), I went, alone, to his stand up show in Hampton, NH, got a front seat and waited afterwards to meet him in person. There was a long line of fans waiting for him, and I kept moving to the back of the line so we might have more time to talk. I ended up writing him a short note with my phone number, and when it was my turn to approach, I swore my heart was beating so loud he could hear it.
I shook his hand, placed the note inside, he said, "Ooh, a note", without letting my hand go and pulled me into him for a hug. His other hand felt very hot on my back and I really just wanted to get out of the horrid venue and go sit and "talk" with him.
He didn't call. My Venus is in Aries, so I can be a little persistant when it comes to these things... so I emailed a short note to an email address I found on his website. I got a reply, I replied, and the next came back from his personal email address. He said he thought I was with a guy that night (duh, that's why I went alone!). We emailed for a few months, he updated me on his travels and sent a few pics.
Dave admits to being a "liquid adventurer" (his words) and a workaholic. Not my style. Had to let that one go. :-(
#6 James Dean
James Dean was the type of guy that would make any woman, no matter how assertive, circle her foot on the floor while looking up and back down sheepishly. He was masculine and his presence seemed comforting and troubling at the same time. Who wouldn't love a chance to kiss him once? There is a resemblance between him and my ex-fiance, Rob.
Who gets you hot? Men can participate, too!
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Met Him on a Thursday Part II
Part II
Tina and I talked on the phone over the weekend about our night at the club. The typical club de-briefing. Did you see him? Girl, stay away from him, he has three baby’s mommas… she is a skank, did you see what she was wearing? And so on. Tina said she told her friend Kim about the man I met. She swore he looked just like Mase. At the time, I had no idea who Mase was, if he was attractive and if he looked anything like Richard, I needed to see him. After seeing him (and now I listen to a bit of his music), I see it’s one of those things where at certain angles there is a resemblance.
She asked if he had called. We analyzed the ins and outs of when a man calls, how soon, what he would say, how I could tell if he was a player, because sometimes they’re so smooth, you’re already caught up before you realize you’re dealing with a class A player… He hadn’t called. I was 99% sure because I kept the cordless phone at my bedside all weekend and in the bathroom while I showered. You could say I was slightly interested.
It was Tuesday when he called. I had already started to give up hope, so I wasn’t very enthusiastic. He wanted to take me out. He told me he lived in Boston. I told him he would need to come to me. At the time, he didn’t have a car, but he made it.
Richard and I spent the next few months talking about anything and everything. Long walks through city parks talking. Sitting in the car when it rained, talking. Riding in the car, my hand on his neck, his leg or holding the big soft brown hand that caressed my skin without even trying. Phone calls every night at 8:05 pm when we weren’t together. Creating silly bets on stuff I didn’t care about, like baseball. Talking and feeling the vibe.
We discovered much about each other that summer, like the day I saw the red in his skin. The deep, deep red that showed how much of his ancestry was Indian. It was a sunny day. We had just finished feeding the ducks outside the Danvers town library. We sat on a bench, and as we usually did, talked. I looked down at his forearm and saw it. The lovely medium brown with strong red just beneath it.
My hand in his… it looked so very different. I got to ask him all my white girl questions, like why did black skin get ashy? He took no offense, he knew I was very curious and was not in it for the “black experience” or “jungle fever” as some white men like to call it. Richard and I connected on a level that I had never been on before. It was at a soul level. THIS was DEEP. THIS was PROFOUND. But I was still cautious.
We had been dating for a few months when I decided it was time to be intimate. We had already become mentally intimate. We had shared much. I had been holding off as long as I could, because I feared that as soon as I slept with him, he would be gone.
We visited my ex-fiance’s sister who was in the hospital, then got some dinner, then went to the hotel. I had packed everything I needed. It was our first night together. It would be fun, it would be new, and it would be a little scary. But I was ready.
I got in my pj’s and lit some candles around the room. When he came out of the bathroom, he seemed a little startled, as if he was surprised I was sort of kicking things off.
Things got hot and I was a little nervous. It was like a second de-virginization. Most of all, I wanted him to enjoy it and for one of the very few times in my life, my pleasure was secondary.
What happened that night is something that I still cannot talk about without blushing (yes, me), rushing over my words, being at a LOSS for words and really just unable to describe what was going on. To THIS DATE, I consider it to be one of my stranger (in a good way) encounters. The only people who know what I mean when I say “twist” are those who have slept with talented Haitian men. An old co-worker used to date a Haitian man and knew EXACTLY what I was talking about.
So needless to say, the sex needed no help. No awkward “Mic” moments, no “talks”. Everything was on point.
He didn’t dump me. He didn’t stop calling me. He didn’t change. I was relieved. Tina had been wrong. Tina stopped talking to me at this point. Haitians were HERS. I had crossed the line into something that belonged to her. I was supposed to stick with the baseball cap wearing weight lifters. It’s odd that a best friend since junior high would take offense at this with ME, but I guess she had her reasons.
Tina and I talked on the phone over the weekend about our night at the club. The typical club de-briefing. Did you see him? Girl, stay away from him, he has three baby’s mommas… she is a skank, did you see what she was wearing? And so on. Tina said she told her friend Kim about the man I met. She swore he looked just like Mase. At the time, I had no idea who Mase was, if he was attractive and if he looked anything like Richard, I needed to see him. After seeing him (and now I listen to a bit of his music), I see it’s one of those things where at certain angles there is a resemblance.
She asked if he had called. We analyzed the ins and outs of when a man calls, how soon, what he would say, how I could tell if he was a player, because sometimes they’re so smooth, you’re already caught up before you realize you’re dealing with a class A player… He hadn’t called. I was 99% sure because I kept the cordless phone at my bedside all weekend and in the bathroom while I showered. You could say I was slightly interested.
It was Tuesday when he called. I had already started to give up hope, so I wasn’t very enthusiastic. He wanted to take me out. He told me he lived in Boston. I told him he would need to come to me. At the time, he didn’t have a car, but he made it.
Richard and I spent the next few months talking about anything and everything. Long walks through city parks talking. Sitting in the car when it rained, talking. Riding in the car, my hand on his neck, his leg or holding the big soft brown hand that caressed my skin without even trying. Phone calls every night at 8:05 pm when we weren’t together. Creating silly bets on stuff I didn’t care about, like baseball. Talking and feeling the vibe.
We discovered much about each other that summer, like the day I saw the red in his skin. The deep, deep red that showed how much of his ancestry was Indian. It was a sunny day. We had just finished feeding the ducks outside the Danvers town library. We sat on a bench, and as we usually did, talked. I looked down at his forearm and saw it. The lovely medium brown with strong red just beneath it.
My hand in his… it looked so very different. I got to ask him all my white girl questions, like why did black skin get ashy? He took no offense, he knew I was very curious and was not in it for the “black experience” or “jungle fever” as some white men like to call it. Richard and I connected on a level that I had never been on before. It was at a soul level. THIS was DEEP. THIS was PROFOUND. But I was still cautious.
We had been dating for a few months when I decided it was time to be intimate. We had already become mentally intimate. We had shared much. I had been holding off as long as I could, because I feared that as soon as I slept with him, he would be gone.
We visited my ex-fiance’s sister who was in the hospital, then got some dinner, then went to the hotel. I had packed everything I needed. It was our first night together. It would be fun, it would be new, and it would be a little scary. But I was ready.
I got in my pj’s and lit some candles around the room. When he came out of the bathroom, he seemed a little startled, as if he was surprised I was sort of kicking things off.
Things got hot and I was a little nervous. It was like a second de-virginization. Most of all, I wanted him to enjoy it and for one of the very few times in my life, my pleasure was secondary.
What happened that night is something that I still cannot talk about without blushing (yes, me), rushing over my words, being at a LOSS for words and really just unable to describe what was going on. To THIS DATE, I consider it to be one of my stranger (in a good way) encounters. The only people who know what I mean when I say “twist” are those who have slept with talented Haitian men. An old co-worker used to date a Haitian man and knew EXACTLY what I was talking about.
So needless to say, the sex needed no help. No awkward “Mic” moments, no “talks”. Everything was on point.
He didn’t dump me. He didn’t stop calling me. He didn’t change. I was relieved. Tina had been wrong. Tina stopped talking to me at this point. Haitians were HERS. I had crossed the line into something that belonged to her. I was supposed to stick with the baseball cap wearing weight lifters. It’s odd that a best friend since junior high would take offense at this with ME, but I guess she had her reasons.
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