There haven’t been many nights where AB is not out with me, so when a Girls’ Night Out is planned… well, stupid things like me eating a piece of moldy bread with brown mustard smeared all over it at 2am are bound to happen. As much as I make favorable decisions when we’re out together, I am completely worthless in making careful decisions for myself.
A friend-of-a-friend introduced us to her new (cutie) girlfriend this past weekend (after being engaged just this past year… to a man). I am endlessly fascinated — not just with hot lesbians, of course (isn’t everyone?), but with sexual identity in general. I have a solid acceptance of my own sexuality, and I love the stories from when someone finds another who completely changes their supposed “status” and outlook on his/her own place on the Kinsey Scale. Be that as it may, there were many R-CALLs (Random Conversations About Lovely Lesbians) Saturday night (and perhaps some inappropriate finger-banging of cleavage). I also asked inconsonant questions such as, “Why isn’t anyone bisexual anymore?” (seriously, where did all the polyamorous go?) and promised friends my boyfriend’s giant penis if they came home with me. Heh. Giant.
Moving on…
The night progressed, and I attempted to convince AB to meet us out after he spent majority of Friday & Saturday night working…
Mel: Looks like we’re staying in Lakewood. Sure you don’t want to come out? Hot lesbians. Heh.
AB: Haha. Not Lakewood.
AB: Now I’m thinking about hot lesbians. Thx a lot.
Mel: OMG I’m horny for lesbians. Porn tmrw for sure
AB: Haha
AB: Cool. I can copy paste a text 
Mel: To whom?
AB: Craigslist SWF seeking SWF
Then I ignored him until an hour later, when I asked for assistance in getting a driver to pick me up in fucking Lakewood.
It took over an hour to FINALLY find a cab (the one I called — fuck you, Westlake Cab NEVER showed or called). Not realizing until this morning, looking at text messages to clear, did I notice that I sent another text to AB at 2:15am: where are you?
He said it took a while for me to find the bedroom after I arrived home (all my clothing and accessories were on the bathroom floor in the morning). It’s apparent at this juncture that I texted him from our kitchen, trying to find him. How frustrating for drunkie to find her boyfriend in our ONE bedroom apartment! I might have to put the brakes on this Christmas Ale.
And, then there was porn on Sunday because I pray to vaginas.
Most importantly, Cleveland people, non-profits and the like, I am looking to devote my time and energy to matters of the LGBT community. If you have suggestions, I would appreciate the connection. melinda {at} pursuitofyourboyfriend {dot} com or leave a comment.
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January 2nd, 2010 at 12:49 pm
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