Starville

So I partied with Gene Simmons son Nick last night. I swear I've been meeting the strangest people lately...


The Hipster crew and I went to a party at the same Hollywood pad that the guys had hot tubbed at during my Birthday Fight Night. We were standing in the living room enjoying the band when we looked over and saw Gene Simmons son Nick kicking it in the corner in all his 6'9 glory. Ofcourse my ridiculous crew was all up in his and his friends mix in two shakes of a lambs tail. He was a cool guy. Didn't drink and was totally digging on Hippie Chick, much to Homeless Boyfriends irritation. She was happy though. It's nice to be reminded that you still got it every once in a while.

I loved the scene. Astro boy was off to the side having a rap contest with a group of randoms. Hippie Chick was basking in the affections of Nick while Homeless Boyfriend glowered from the corner. I was enjoying a drinking game with a set of dice and a drunken hottie. Douchebag was there as well, running around adding the word 'ville' to the end of his words. You know thnigs like, "sucksville" or "partyville". He would throw in an occasional, "That's what she said..." I'm starting to really love this guy. He's freaking hilarious! Man my surroundings have been nutty lately.

Although The Highlander is taking the cake when it comes to being nutty. He has gone from sweet to stalker faster than I can say, "get a life". I hadn't spoken to him since the night he decided to have that awkward I need to "absorb" conversation with me about our relationship status. I had honestly planned on calling him back at some point. I just couldn't bring myself to do it in a timely manner. I mean I've been stressed out at work, I was still dealing with Partyboy finding out about WCC, and quite frankly I just really didn't give a shit.

I had shot him a quick text the next day apologizing for not calling him. Looking back on it, I shouldn't have bothered. His response was annnoying to say the least.

Highlander: "I'm just kinda irritated that you couldn't just shoot me a quick text letting me know we wouldn't be finishing our "talk"?! Especially when I saw you constantly on your phone when you were at my apartment. Just doesn't really seem fair or considerate."

This guy can't be serious? I mean I was out with my friends dude. Why in the hell would you be a priority? And did he just scold me for being on my phone at his house? Get over yourself! Your not my dad. Your not my man.

"I hadn't realized we were planning on finishing our talk last night," I begin. "Plus I had still planned on calling you. I passed out. And I was texting you at my dinner. Until we began to eat so I stopped because I got yelled at."

God I'm starting to feel like I'm in a relationship with this guy! Of which I'm not. So annoying. But not as annoying as his next text.

"That's kinda odd because you specifically told me that we were gonna continue our talk after you were done with dinner," he starts with an air of hysteria," that's what your text confirmed as well. But regardless, I wasnt' asking you to call me while you were with your friends because that's just rude!I just believe it would have been courteous and respectful to shoot me a simple text saying we'd continue the conversation some other night. That's all. Pretty simple I think Especially since you made a point of mentioning that the talk was awkward. So it would seem that it's better to diffuse the 'weird' factor sooner rather than later."

I think diffusion is sort of an impossibility at this point buddy.

"Ok dude, let's move on. This is way to deep of a convo." I text back.

I'm over this whole thing! I wanted to be cool with him but he's acting like a pissed off boyfriend. I don't like getting scolded by a semi total stranger. I mean we only saw eachother one time! Who the hell does he think he is to me? This is getting stranger and stranger by the minute. I mean I'm starting to feel like I'm on the witness stand being crossed examined by a psycho.

"I really don't and didn't want to make it into a whole big production," He says.

Ha, that ship has sailed dude.

"Just seems to have played out that way," he continues. "Wait, what do you mean 'move on'? Go our separate ways or?!"

There's a split second where I consider taking this 'out'. I know I should tell him let's move on from eachother. But I don't because I'm still a nice fucking person.


Instead I tell him, "No. From this weird conversation."

"Ok. That's fine." he replies. I could feel his relief through my phone.

I stop texting him at this point. There's no where for me to take this conversation. Mercifully he leaves me alone. For the night that is. The next day I wasn't so lucky. I hadn't text him for almost 12 whole hours. For a weirdo loner like him that must have seemed like an eternity.

"No text? No call again?" he sends.

It's been a day dude. Relax.
I don't respond. I can't deal with this guy anymore.

"I really don't understand you!," he continues after about 20 minutes of texting silence. "All along you've been interacting with me and giving me a different impression, urging us to see each to eachother."

Oh my freaking god! Keep in mind people. It's been maybe 4 days since our initial meeting and now I'm receiving this psycho text. Atleast it looks like it's over now. I resist the urge to respond with something like,"Smell ya later," and continue on with my night.

The next day I go over to Glasses house to watch a movie and eat some food. When I arrived Partyboy was there. I was nervous. I hated the awkwardness from the other night. I preferred his overbearing affections to his distant anger.

But he was good. Not the same as before, but good. We all laughed and hanged and watched movies. Than we all completely passed out and had an impromptu slumber party. The next morning we got up and drank some coffee together. It was nice. I was having a super chill, and sober hang out with the Partyguys.

Glasses says his goodbyes and heads off to work. Partyboy and I stay a bit longer shooting the shit. We take Glasses dog out for a walk and continue our small talk. It's the first time I've ever held a normal conversation with the guy. In the past we were just make out central. Than we hit the awkward phase with his unwanted affections and transitioned right into him hating me for a night. But today? He's actually chilling with me like a friend. We head back into the house and I decide to read him a little WCC. I hate that The Whistle Blower left Partyboy with the impression that I was talking shit about him on my blog. I don't consider that what I'm doing. I talk about how I feel about things. I talk about me.

I read him 'New Year's with Partyboy' and 'Cravings'. I wanted to give him an idea of who I am and what I do without stumbling across anything to graphic or rude. He dug it. And he relaxed. Good.

We head out and he asks me what I'm going to do for the day. "Just run some errands and things. Why what's up?" I ask.

"Well there is this really cool coffee shop I like to hang out at. I just take my computer and chill there. Drink some green tea and such." he says.

"Well, if that's all your doing why don't you just run my errands with me and than we can go check out your spot after?" I ask him.

He agrees and we head back to The Plex together.

We walk in and say hi to Homeless Boyfriend who is sitting at his computer. I sit Partyboy down at my desk so that he can screw around on my computer while I get dressed. Just than Hippie chick opens her bedroom door and pops her head out.

I wish I could have taken a picture of her face. She takes one look at me and Partyboy together and her face splits into this huge grin. I walk away not able to stop myself from breaking out into the same silly smile. Man she loves it when Partyboy and I are together. She told me later that day that the energy that the two of us have when we are together is intense. She's right. We would be a sight to see as a couple. But we're not. So I settle for building a friendship with him. For now.

I shower and change while the boys hang out and smoke out. I'm smiling in the shower. Today is going to be interesting.

I finish up and we head out together. I need to drop off my old keys and cable box. He drives around town with me comfy as can be. About halfway through our day I stop by my favorite Jamaican joint near mid city. I buy us a few chicken patties and than head next door to We Jammin to order some fresh juices. Partyboy tries to give me some money for the patties. "Don't worry about it," I tell him. "I'm dragging you around with me, the least I can do is feed you."

"No really take it. I don't want your readers to think that Partyboy is cheap," he tells me smiling.

He is so freaking cute. "It's fine," I laugh. "I got it really."

He puts his money away until it's time to pay for our fresh blended juices. I let him pay for it. We're getting along and I want to keep him in a good mood.

After I finish my errands we head to Trader Joe's. I owe Mr. Boston and Homeless boyfriend dinner for helping me move so I want to pick up my supplies for the evening. Partyboy brings me a basket right as my phone rings. I look down and its The Highlander.

My heart starts to pound a mile a minute. Hippie Chick told me later that it was my bodies way of telling me that I was in danger. No kidding. I mean why was he calling me? Any other guy would have understood the blow off signals by now and moved on.

I let it go to voicemail, not thinking for a minute that the guy would actually leave a message. He does.

Don't worry reader. I'm going to figure out a way that I can link up his voicemail so that you all can listen to it. It is money man. The guy leaves me a 2:28 second voicemail. Do you have any idea how long a 2 minute voicemail is? Long man. Long.

I don't respond. Partyboy and I head back to The Plex. He knows I'm freaked. I let him listen to the voicemail. I don't get much of a response from him. I have a feeling he doesn't exactly want to discuss my other 'relationships' with me.

I get home and start in on dinner. I plan on making my world famous lasagna with garlic bread with lots of red wine.

The heavens were shining down on me that day because the lasagna came out amazing.

I had text Glasses earlier to come over after work to eat. It was so nice. I set up a 6 foot table in our dining room and we all sat down to enjoy my feast. It was Homeless boyfriend, Hippie Chick, Mr. Boston, Glasses and Partyboy. Man do I love my crew.

"Someone should say a blessing." Glasses says.

They all look to me.

Everyone links hands and I start in on my speech,"Well, I guess I just want to say how happy I am that I'm here with all of you. I love to cook but not when I'm alone. I'm so excited that I get to come home to all of you everyday and that I got to feed you all tonight. You are my LA Fam Bam and I love you."

Everyone 'Ahh's" and we lift our glasses for a toast. I'm loving it. Just a few months ago I was depressed and alone in my scary old apartment and now? Well, life is good man. Life is good.

I had played the message from the Highlander to Hippie Chick before dinner. I wanted her opinion on what I should do. She had told me that we should pose the question to the guys. We are done with our meal and just sitting around the table drinking wine when Hippie Chick gets everyones attention. "Ok guys. Carrie needs some help. Tell them the back story Carrie."

I give the table a quick rundown of the last few days events. They all ask a few questions and than we quite down so that I can play the voicemail for them. I place my phone in the middle of the table and turn on my speaker. The Highlanders voice echos in the quite dining room.

"Hey Carrie. It's me. It's been a couple of days since I've heard from you. So... and... uh you havent' responded to my text messages so I'm assuming that inspite of what you texted me that you don't want us to go our separate ways...well now your not talking to me anymore and you don't want to be friends..so that's uh. Makes me sad...." The guys snort in unison at this line. Mr. Boston and Hippie Chick are busting up. This is way more fun than I thought it was going to be. I start to feel better and a lot less freaked. The message continues.

"Especially since it was over a quote unquote 'awkaward conversation' that we had." (Oh god. The guy is quoting me again.)"....and the conversation should have been continued so that it would have moved out of that stage. And it never was. Instead it was continued via text and that's not the best medium to have resolved anything or reached any kind of conclusion. Anyhow I just want to tell you that uh I would hope that you would call me so that we can talk this out."

The guys in the room start to debate. They think that The Highlander is coming to an end and want to discuss what a freak he is. I quite them down. The Highlander isn't done yet. There is still a minute and 28 seconds to go....

"I like having you in my life. It took alot of courage on my part, for lack of a better word, to initially contact you and than to move it to the point where I would see you. Your the only person I've seen outside of the people I've already known in the last 7 months."

Bingo! The room erupts again. "That's what it is," says Glasses. "Your the only person he's spoken to in ages. He's clinging onto you for dear life."

Just than Hippie Chick nudges me from under the table. Partyboy had stood up about 20 seconds into the voicemail and left the room. He mumbled something like,"I've already heard this." He was now walking around trying to find something to do. At the time I thought he was just restless. I wouldn't doubt if the guy had a mild case of ADD. "That's not it," HC tells me later. "He didn't want to listen to the voice mail. He likes you dude."

Great. I have a stalker that wants me and a ex lover who can't have me because he's an idiot. Man being single is a pain in the ass sometimes.

The Highlanders voice is still carrying across the room, "...and that should mean something to you. Um...I just would like to..I don't want to end things on these terms. I would like to atleast be able to talk to you to straighten some things out if it's possible and if its not than to just not leave it where we have...based on our last conversation. Because that conversation was I guess kind of awkward. It was difficult for me to have with you but I thought that we were both on the same page. And it would have been mature and respectful to know where we were each coming from and know what the expectations were. So hopefully I'll hear from you. Um, I don't know what else to say or do since obviously communication requires two people to participate and you've chosen for whatever reason to not to at this point.....Um....I hope your well and like I said I hope to hear from you soon...take care...bye."

We all sit in silence for a minute letting the crazy sink in.

"Don't call him back," Homeless Boyfriend tells me. "One word from you and his obsession will start all over again. He'll just want to debate anything you say and talk you out of it."

"So you guys were dating?" Mr. Boston asks.

"No. I told him from the beginning I wasn't interested in dating."I respond.

"Dude, she only hung out with him one time," Hippie Chick chimes in."She sat and had coffee with him and that's it. The guy is majorly off."

We continue our debate for a while longer until HC decided that we should all make a Yogurtland trip. We pile into the cars and raid the local yogurt shop. Glasses has to work in the morning so he heads home. Partyboy jumps back in the car with us.

We head back to the Plex and continue our wine drinking. I'm good and toasted at this point so I go into my room and sit on my bed to watch some tv. Partyboy walks in and asks if I could give him a ride home.

"Sure," I tell him. "Just give me a sec to relax."

I'm lying. I'm a little drunk and a lot tired and am loving the idea of hanging out with PB for the night. I mean we had a great day. No awkwardness. No weird sexual chemistry. Just friendly and cool and fun.

He lays down on the floor. I have an awesome 4 inch thick shag carpet in my bedroom so I know he's comfy. I throw him down a pillow and count the seconds before Mr Narcolepsy passes out. It doesn't take long. He's out like a light within 15 minutes. I cover him with a blanket and than slip into my bed.

I get a text from Glasses right before I drift off to sleep. "I'm glad you guys made up and are able to hang again."

I smile. Me too.

The next morning Partyboy wakes up before me and asks if I can give him a ride home. It's raining outside and he's hoofing it.

I get up and quickly throw on some clothes. He has an appointment he needs to get to and I'm feeling really guilty for making him stay...ok. I don't feel that guilty, but I should drive him none the less.

We head out and he asks if I want to grab some coffee at his spot. He really wants to show it to me. Cute.

We walk in and I instantly love it. Its a large coffee shop with two patios and tons of little hidden nooks with drinkers and readers hanging out with their laptops and espressos. He grabs himself a green tea and pays for my tea latte.

We go outside to take a seat next to one of the fire pits.

"Hey, how you doing man," Partyboy says to a man sitting in the corner. He's older, with a bit of scruffiness on his chin and that layered directors look. PB introduces me and we take a seat at the table across from him.

We all start to chit chat and I find out that this guy is a somebody. An old songwriter/rockstar/actor. He's sister helped shape the career of Leonardo Di Caprio and he helped Madonna to gain some focus back in the day.

Partyboy has done some modeling and promo work. He may have even done some movie work but I'm not sure. I've never really asked. This guy starts to give him some advice. I'll call him the Hollywood Guru.

"One thing you need to do man, is dress down a bit more. Your a really good looking guy. To good looking. You need to switch up your style. Walk into agencies looking more normal. These people can tell a faker in a second. You need to let your worth ethic and drive proceed you. You do have a great lookbut you'd have better luck if you do what beautiful women do. For instance Michelle Pfeiffer. She is stunning in person. So she often goes out without any makeup. Without it she still looks amazing but more versatile. They are more apt to take her seriously. And you need to find out what your character is going to be. Create the kind of person people want to watch. For instance if you look at Robert De Niro early work. The man was well..."

"Bland," I offer.

"Exactly!" he responds. "He had to figure out how to use is looks and strangeness in a way that made people want to watch him for hours. You should get a video camera. Record yourself. Learn your face. Control it and make it work for you. All stars have one thing in common. They have a darkness to them. The casual observer doesn't realize that ofcourse. All they see is a star. But trust me. That drive and darkness is there. Bubbling under the surface. Pushing these people to stand out and work harder and focus on who they are and who they want to be."

I'm loving the conversation. The Guru isn't one of those guys who name drops. The man is just dropping names.

"So what do you do?"He asks looking over at me.

"She's a writer," Partyboy answers.

I smile. It's the first time I've heard someone call me that, and of all people the words come out of Partyboys mouth.

"Really? What do your write?" The Guru asks me, looking genuinely interested.

"I write about my life out here in Hollywood. I run with a crazy collection of artists and creatives. I write about who they are and who I date." I tell him.

"Yeah, she and I used to 'hang out' for a bit...and I just found out about all of this." Partyboy adds.

"Found out? What do you mean?" the Guru asks.

"Well, I'm sort of blogging out my pages right now to the public. Letting them help shape my writing. Only a chosen few know that I do this. Partyboy was never supposed to know. It just sort of happened."

"Ok ok, so do you write about everyone or do you just concentrate on a few characters?"Guru asks me.

"I write about anyone that I have an emotional connection to. I keep my characters pretty one dimensional although I've began to flesh out a few. I pick the mood and emotion that I feel for them and I go from there.Everyone is anonymous. Everyone has a nickname. I write about my surface thoughts about them and my life. You know, the shit talking that all of us do in our heads but never act on. Well that's what WCC is made up of. She is unfiltered and raw. She is my inner monologue. A lot of people have been able to relate."

"So have you thought about turning it into a screen play?" he asks me.

Only in Hollywood man. Everyone either wants to be in front of the camera or behind it. I'm not interested in either. Atleast not when it comes to my writing

"No." I respond, probably shocking him. "If someone comes along and wants to do something like that for me that's fine. But that's not what I want to do with this. I love to read. I love to write. I want this to be a book. Hell, maybe a series of books. I'm a good 2 years out from that though so for now I'll just keep blogging out my pages. Than hopefully when I'm ready to publish I'll already have a fan base. I plan on making business cards and dropping them in bars with my Blogspot url. I'm going to have stickers made that I can start to put up in bathroom stalls. I want to keep WCC underground. I love the process and I want to do this right. We'll see what happens."

He looks at me and smiles. "You see that?" he says looking over at Partyboy. "That's what I'm talking about. I was pushing a few buttons right now. I wanted to throw out the screenplay idea to see what she would say. She knows what she wants. She is someone who is in control of her craft. Her moves are intentional. She is smart and focused and I wouldn't be surprised if in a years time she has the biggest blog in the nation."

This man officially rocks. We sit and chit chat with him for about an hour. I wish I could have recorded the conversation. He truly was an interesting character. Than again, most stars are. It's what makes us all want to watch.

Partyboy is now running late so we say our goodbyes and I take him home. He gives me a quick hug and thanks me for the last few days. I drive away and he shoots me one last text. "Thanks again for the adventures, the gluttonous bliss and saving the day!"

I had a great few days with him. I always say that Glasses is my heart. Well so is Partyboy. We definitely have a connection. We don't need to be in a relationship for me to enjoy it. I just love kicking it in this guys space. I'm glad that he found out about WCC. Atleast now I can actually get to know him.

No more boys for me though. I'm just going to write. Keep my focus. Find my inner darkness and become that person that people want to watch.

I drive home running everything the Guru had said to us in my mind. I love what I do. I know what I want. And I'm glad that someone recognized that.

Hopefully I'll see you soon Hollywood Guru. Just know, I plan on proving you right.


WCC

Absorb This

Partyboy knows. About me. About Carrie. Shit.

I went out with the Hipster crew last night to a party at The Street Artist House.  We had stayed out till 5am the night before so we were all pretty tired.  A mellow houseparty sounded awesome.  As always it was a blasty blast. One of the crew was dj'ing all night as the rest of us ran around bouncing off of each others energies. 

The Twisty Twins from New Year's Eve were there with a few additional members to their bedazzled group.  Theses girls are a funny bunch. Underaged, underweight and overdressed as usual. They have a ring leader. A blond straight out of Mean Girls. They cling to Hippie Chick and I hoping to ride on our popularity. I'm dancing around the living room on my own when the ring leader comes over to groove with me. Whatever. More the merrier. Except she gets closer than I would prefer. Than the rest of her group roll up on us and now I'm dancing in this tight little Twisty Circle.

Like I've said before, I don't need a partner to dance and I definitely don't need this type of safety in numbers attitude. I break free from their insecurities and hop my way over to an empty area of the living room.

 The Street Artist comes over and pulls me off to the side. Our fake relationship on Facebook has been progressing nicely. Over the last 2 weeks since the Foo Fighters concert our status has gone from "It's Complicated" to "In a Relationship". We have taken to writing each other wall messages about our dates. Of which we've had none ofcourse but it helps with the authenticity of our relationship.

He takes my drink from out of my hand and places it on the end table. Than he gets down on one knee and produces a thin silver $5 ring from his pocket. "Carrie, will you be with my forever, sometimes?" He asks me.

I laugh and tell him yes as he slips the ring on my finger. He stands up and gives me a kiss on my cheek.
"So should we post that I'm knocked up on Facebook to help explain our quick engagement?" I ask him.

"No no. It's to soon," he tells me panicked. "We need to make this legit. Let's give it like a month. My co-workers have barely started congratulating me on my change in relationship status."

I laugh and agree to wait. This gag has started to take on a life of it's own. But I have no commitments or love interest at the moment so if I can display a healthier fake relationship than real I'm all about it.

We head out of the party at around 3am. I shoot Glasses a text to find out how his night went. He had gone to a party at the Playboy Mansion that evening so I was hoping to score some details.

"Where are you at," he sends me back.

"Leaving the houseparty now," I tell him.

"Come pick me up. Let's go to Douchebags," he sends.

Sounds good to me. I head over to Glasses house with Hippie Chick, Homeless Boyfriend and Astro Boy. Hippie Chick is good and loaded and ready to go home. Astro has been nursing a sprained ankle for a few days so he is ready to roll also. But Homeless Boyfriend and I? Well we're ready to party with The Party Guys.  It's 2 against 2. We win out due to the fact that I'm the one driving the car.

I know I should be going home. I only got about 3 hours sleep the night before and I have to work again the next morning. But it had been a few weeks since I'd been out so I didn't want to end the night so early.

Well, that's not the whole truth. Honestly I was hoping to see Partyboy. I missed that guy. I hadn't seen him in a few weeks, partially because I was busy. And also because his girlfriend had came into town the weekend before. I was careful to avoid any areas where I could run into them.  I'm not at a place where I could comfortably hang with the two of them. I was just barely getting used to the strange relationship he and I were building.

We get to Douchebags and Glasses and I walk up the stairs ahead of the group arm and arm. We open the front door and see a few bodies lying under blankets in the living room. The one on the couch is Partyboy. He is curled up under the blankets with a spiky haired blond. The second he sees me he freezes. Hell even I had that feeling of busting his ass. He immediately jumps up off the coach and tackles Glasses.  After a struggel Glasses manages to dislodge himself from under PB. He heads to teh bedrooms to say hi to the rest of the Party Gang.  Partyboy looks up at me from the floor and says, "Come down here and give me a hug."

He must be kidding? I just walked in on you snuggling with some ugly blond and now you want some floor time with me? No thanks.  I jump over his torso and continue through the apartment to say hi to Douchebag and the other roomies. I'd much prefer a Douch hug than a fake 'I have a girlfriend so this means nothing other than I'm trying to be cute'', squeeze.

Partyboy hops back up after I dodge him just in time for Hippie Chick to pull him into the kitchen as she walks through the door.

I didn't think anything of it at the time, until Glasses clued me into the behind the scene info. I guess in her drunken state Hippie Chick had decided to give him a piece of her mind about us.  She told him to stop treating me like shit. That he was an idiot for not being with me. That there was no way he was really into his girl.

He countered that he was in love.

"Because you feel obligated," she tells him with a punch in his arm.

"No, she stayed with me through alot of stuff. I love her. We're gonna get married," he says.
(Yeah. That's called obligation.)

That line made me giggle. Seriously dude? It's not that I don't think that the guy has genuine feelings for her. I know he does. I just can't stop thinking of them as two dumb kids playing grown up.  I've been married. I know what it should look like and how one should act. Partyboy had..slash that. Has real feelings for me. He wouldn't feel that way if he had marriage emotions for his girl. That's not the way it works buddy.  And don't even get me started about his snuggle time antics with the spiky hair girl that I walked in on earlier.

I guess she berated him for a while. I was clueless at the time.  All I knew was that he was on my jock a little more than usual that night. He kept telling me to not ,"be a brat" and saying that he loved me. He kept wrapping his arms around me and actually gave me a few kisses on my cheek. As usual I tried to avoid him as much as possible. He still treats me like a girl he's into and its maddening. I never stay friends with guys I hook up with. I'm a out of sight out of mind kind of girl. I only tolerate his presence because I have to. He is best friends with Glasses and I'm best friends with Glasses so we all just deal with our twisted friendship Triangle.

After an hour we all head out. Partyboy walks us down stairs. I walk ahead of the crowd to pull up the car trying to avoid any uncomfortable goodbyes from him. Everyone piled in and I drove off right when I think he was trying to walk around to say goodbye to me. Sorry dude. Don't want to deal.

The next day I'm exhausted at work. HC and HB have plans to go to a huge house warming party in Silver Lake. I can't do it. I call up Glasses instead to see what he's doing. He answers the phone totally wasted. At 5pm. Drunkard.

"Come down," he slurs to me. "It's 'Chicken Parmesan' Night."

I laugh. He's been chanting the words,"Chicken Parmesan Night" for three days like its an event instead of just food.  I'm in. A good dinner with friends sounds perfect. Plus I love when Glasses is drunk. He's funny as shit.

That's when I hear a voice in the backround. It's Partyboy. Should have known he would be there.  It actually motivates me more to head over. What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment.

I head over at around 7pm. Right before I step up to the door I get a call from The Highlander. He had texted me earlier asking if everything was ok. He said that I had seemed distant every since our meeting.

Yes. That's right. I finally met the elusive Highlander. And man was it a let down. I mean he definitely resembled the photo he had sent me with the exception of his bad teeth and funny shaped head. He looked to be about 25lbs lighter. Weight loss from the accident I suppose. He also looked about 15 years older than the photo I had seen. Which I'm sure he was. He was shorter than I had hoped as well. The combination of his weight, height and aged look was his downfall. I couldn't do it. I wasn't attracted. I had went out for coffee with him and had an ok time. I mean he was still the same person. Same warm look in his eyes, same easy banter we always had. I just wasn't into him.

So he calls me up and we had the most uncomfortable conversation ever. Long story short he wanted to know if I had any feelings for him. Not that he was pressuring me into a relationship or anything. He just wanted to know if the door was open. You know, be friends now and than when I was ready forge into a relationship?

I'm dying. I mean it's more than a little premature to be having this conversation. I had barely even given the guy a hug the other night. You'd think he would have taken the hint. Apparently not. I don't want to lie to him or lead him on. I'm totally not interested. I decide to lay it down for him.

 I tell him that I'm not interested in being more than friends. I'm not looking for a relationship and I don't even want to have to think about when I would be ready for something like that. Plus, I wouldn't be interested in getting together with him. He just had so much going on in his life right now. I didn't want to be included in dealing with the aftermath of his accident. I had spent most of my adult life taking care of the men I was with. Time and time again I would jump into relationships with guys who drained me of all my good will and energy. I always feel the need to take care of others. Right now I was trying really hard to just take care of me for a change.

"Not that I think that's what you would do. I just don't want to be in that position again. I need to try to be me right now. I get tired just thinking about it." I tell him.

Ok so I'm not being completely honest with him. But I figure this statement is better than telling him that I think his head is funny looking.

"Well I don't think that's really an issue," he tells me. "I wouldn't do that to you."

Grrr.

"I know. But you asked me how I felt. You wanted to know if you should invest time in me romantically so I'm being honest with you. I'm not. I think your way cool though. I really do want to still know you. I want us to be friends.."

"Ok," he says. "Well I think I need to absorb this for a second."

Huh? He needs to 'absorb'? Absorb what? Gay.

"Ok well I just got to my friends house so why don't you absorb and I'll give you a call later ok?" I send him.

"Ok," he says. I hang up. OMG. Did that just really happen? I feel so drained and down. I hate being put into that position. I don't like being responsible for someone else's feelings. I shouldn't have to be in this situation. I mean we had met ONE time. That's it.  The whole point of me being single is so that I don't have to deal with this shit.

I knock on the door and Partyboy answers. Instead of a hello he tells me, "Hi Blogger."

Great.

"Oh, ha. Hi," I say back. I'm too upset about my Highlander conversation to engage so I give him a quick hug instead and walk in. Glasses and his roommate are in the kitchen along with the whistle blower himself.

I had met WB during the Superbowl party. We had bonded over our individual artistry's. He was a writer to, and I had read him a few of my blogs. He gave me some great advise and had unofficially become my new writing partner. The downside was he apparently didn't know how to keep his mouth shut about it.

"I'm so sorry Carrie," he tells me when I walk in. " I didn't know that I shouldn't tell him."

"What part of don't tell anyone about this didn't you understand?" I ask.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Look, I think you two should talk this out. I think Partyboy has some unresolved issues about this." he says pushing me towards Partyboy.

I look over at him. He's right. I could see it all over Partyboys face. He barely gave me a hug when I walked in and he is totally avoiding eye contact with me now. I mean last night I couldn't keep the guy off me. Now he looked...well...kind of broken.

"What issue's do you have?" I ask him.

"What? I don't have issues," he responds, still not looking at me. "I'm cool. Honestly I don't really care. This conversation is just not really very interesting to me. Lets smoke." he says as he reaches for the bong.

"See. He's fine. Let's move one." I tell WB.

But it's never that simple. Like I've said before. Men are sensitive creatures that can't handle shit. Partyboy is no exception. He is weird with me for the rest of the night. Usually I can't get him to leave my side, but the entire evening he actually goes so far as to avoid being in the same room with me.

I'm upset. I mean first I had to deal with The Highlander, and now this?  I don't want to be responsible for other people's emo! Arg. My only reprieve that evening came from Glasses's drunken antics.

First we couldn't get him out of his bedroom for dinner. He had locked himself in with the sound of running water. I finally coerced him to open the door. I found him hot tubbing it in his board shorts. He looked so funny laying in his tub under the bubbles.  His roommate came in and pulled his ass out.

We all sat at the dinner table to eat the famous 'Chicken Parmesan.' Glasses was right. It wasn't just food. It was an Event. We lit some candles and poured some wine and ate our brains out. Next time 'Chicken Parmesean' night comes around, I'll be spreading the word.

After dinner Glasses begins to hop around the room calling himself a Tiger Cub. He would jump up onto the fireplace, his hands drawn up under his chin like paws and bucking his teeth like a rabbit. "I'm gonna pounce on you like a Tiger Cub," he kept announcing...right before hurling himself at anyone within his jumping range.

I finally got him to lay down on the couch. I was sitting next to him and Partyboy was sitting next to me. It's the closest we had been the entire night. I was looking at Glasses's roommate in the other room when I felt PB's eyes on me. I could tell he was looking at me pretty intently. "Interesting."  I hear him say under his breath.

I look at him and he looks away.  The comment is still haunting me. I mean, what did he mean by that? What's interesting? Why is he being so emo?

It gets late and I put Glasses to bed. Literally. I tuck him in and hang around his room until he drifts off to sleep. Partyboy lays down next to him and immediately pass's out. I walk over to the bed and lay next to him so that I can draw on his hands with the black pen I found. I put a teardrop on one and three dots on the other. I draw smiley faces on the balls of both his hands and an X on his index fingers...with the matching O's on his middle fingers. I consider drawing on his face but then decide against it. He's already pissed at me. Lord knows what he'd do if I messed up his pretty boy face.

I gather my things and turn off the bedroom light.

I'm a bit blue as I drive home. At first I think its because of the conversation I had with the Highlander. But if I'm being honest with myself, I know it has more to do with Partyboy. My sadness quickly turns into anger. I mean what the hell? What right does he have to be upset with me? I mean he was the one who stopped seeing me. He's the one that decided to get back with his out of state ex. He doesn't have the right to have feelings for me anymore and he sure as hell shouldn't be hurt by me.  I was the one he used to keep himself warm until he got back to his girl so you know what? I've decided that I'm pissed at his ass.

It's kind of liberating actually. Now he won't hang on me all the time. Now he won't try to be cute and place his forehead against mine when he speaks to me. No more gazing at me from across the room or trying to let everyone know that he knows who I am. Be with your girl man. Leave me alone. You can't have both of us.

I want more. Deserve more. More than you.

I get home and receive another text from The Highlander.
"Guess were not continuing our talk tonight? :( " he sends.

Seriously dude? God tonight is draining.

"No sad face...I just got home. Long hang out as usual. I'm gonna pass out now." I send back, trying to lighten the mood.

"So when will we finish our talk?" he replies.

Finish what talk dude? What does this guy want to talk about? I mean, I've said my peace. Either he wants to be cool and be friends or he doesn't. No more long drawn out conversations necessary.

I don't respond. Partially because I honestly don't know what to say. I'm upset over Partyboy and could give a shit less about The Highlanders unusually clingy request. But also it's because I'm stoned and two seconds away from passing out. I smoked with Partyboy earlier and was barely holding onto to reality.  I slip away a few minutes after his last text.

The next day Glasses gives me a call. "I really think that I need to stop hanging out with you. Your just way to crazy for me," he says.

I laugh and ask how he's feeling.

"Ok. I was so trashed. Thank you for taking care of me. I think everyone needs someone like you in their friend circle." he says.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask him.

"You know, your always sober and you take care of us." he replies.

Funny and totally true. I take in. I take care and I occasionally take over. It's who I am.

"Dude. Partyboy was so weird with me last night. He acted all hurt." I tell him.

"You know what I think? I think he feels like an asshole about what happen between you guys. Aannnddd, I think he still likes you." he says.

"I know he does. And its not fair. He made his decision. I'm over it."

Alright. I'm lying again. I'm not over it or over him. Not just yet. But I'm getting there. It's not easy. True chemistry is hard to find and he and I have it. I need to create some distance so that I can calm those feelings down.

Damn hormones. Always making horrible decisions for me. I need to put those assholes in check.

So Partyboy found out about my alter ego. What ever. He's not my problem anymore.  And now that I think about it neither is The Highlander. I refuse to feel bad for not liking someone. I need to be true to me and my feelings.

I think I'm going to put a pause on the whole dating thing. Maybe become a nun. Or a lesbian.

Oh who am I kidding. I'll just take my new found bitterness out on the road again.  Save your emo for your relationships boys.

I'm WCC. Still single and free.

Screw the Flowers. Send me a Creeper.

I expected some random Valentines day text messages but nothing prepared me for this.

I had spent the entire weekend moving out of my old apartment and into The Plex. No partying for me. I was all  business. I rented a Uhaul Saturday morning and with the enlisted  help of Homeless Boyfriend, my dad and my fourth new roommate, Mr. Boston, we knocked out my place in 14 excruciating hours. We had planned on attending a Zombie Ball Saturday night,  but once 10:30pm rolled around, we had actually become  Zombie's. I owe them both dinner. I plan on making something next week once the horror of the move has faded a bit.

I finished up my last load on Sunday night at around 12:30 am. That's when I received the first of my Valentine's text messages from my sweet Highlander.

"Goodnight boo, hope you're feeling better," he sent me randomly. We had exchanged a few texts  over the weekend, but he knew I was in moving hell so he had kept his contact to a minimum.

"Thanks...the cough is better..Still moving...night!" I respond.

"Well glad to hear it hasn't affected your health. Btw, Happy Vday!" he tells me.

Wow. Valentine's hadn't even crossed my mind. I mean I knew it was coming but it had been of no real concern to me. I've never really been the type of girl who needs to celebrate greeting card holidays. I don't care much for flowers and have no need for a fancy dinner. Valentines never much mattered to me when I was in a relationship so now that I'm single the day hardly exist in my world. It's sweet that The Highlander of me though. I guess I have a Valentine after all.

"Ha...now there's something I didn't think about...happy Valentines Day," I reply back.

"Well leave it to me to plant subliminal ideas in your head disguised as topical pleasantries," he reponds.

Huh? This guy is funny.

"Did you really just say, topical pleasantries?" I text.

"YES! Add it to my tab. I'm certain it will be an ever growing list of phrases and word combos that you've never heard!"

Oh I've heard them. I just don't know anyone who would use them. I'm not sure how to respond. I honestly just want to text back the word, "Nerd". I decide to send something less offensive.

"I'm sure it will."

Simple I know, but it was all I trusted myself to say. 

I was pooped so I headed off to bed. The next day at work I received a few more text. The first that morning was from 10 Points.

"Happy Valentine's day," he texts. I can't help but think that I was one of many who he had sent this simple impersonal message to. 

"And Happy Valentine's day to you," I respond.

Now here's a guy I didn't really care to hear from. I had asked him to send me a photo the other day for his caller ID picture on my phone. The real reason I asked him for one was because I wanted to get a better view of his face. I mean  Daria and I had already established that he had a rockin body. But I still wasn't sure if his 6'4 height was enough to compensate for his possible hideousness. It wasn't. His  height may have given his face an extra 10 points but his face started in the negatives so it definitely wasn't enough.

What's worse is I think the guy is kind of a Douche. When I asked him for a photo, he sent me a model shot within seconds.  I made a joke about how quickly he had came up with a pic to text me. His response was, "Well I model on the side sweetie. I have to have them  on my phone ready to go."

Don't know what that means. All I know is that I hate to be called sweetie. Then when I asked him if he wanted to come down and help me move, you know, so that he could put his muscles to work, he responded by laughing at me.  On the flip side I was receiving messages from The Highlander all weekend apologizing for not being able to assist me due to his injury. I'm so over Mr. 10 Points. I need to blow him off but I haven't decided how to do it yet. Hippie Chick came up with an idea.

"You should just tell him that your a lesbian," she told me.

I laughed at the time but now I find myself considering it.  Maybe I'll tell him I've decided to  get back with my ex girlfriend or something.  It might be pretty funny.  I'll let you know my final decision later dear reader...

A few minutes later I received a text from my bestie, Glasses. So sweet.

"Happy Valentine's boo boo!"

I laugh. I had told him once that in order to not screw up guys names I would just call them boo. He has taken to calling me that on occasion. I love my friend.


"Same to you Bestie!" I send back.

But its the third text that blows my mind.  Totally unexpected. I had to look down at my phone twice to make sure I was reading it right. I received a text from, drum roll please...The Creeper.

He texts, "3 weeks later after no contact Creeper texts me out of nowhere and of course on Valentines day. And in true Creeper fashion he texts none other than, "Hey, wanna be romantic and trade Bj's in my garage? You first."

"Lmao! You rock!" I reply.

"And then you answer withhhhh, 'Lmao!  You rock......I'll get drunk and see you around midnight?' Creeper returns with. 'Cool, I'll clean up a little.' " 

"Make sure  to light some incense," I add.

"Wait...for romance or for the smell? Need to understand what your context was?" he says.

"Sorry. I wrote that the last time I went to your place that not only was it super clean but I swore I smelled something scented," I tell him. "Missed you Creeper."

I meant it. I had missed his character. I missed his strangeness and our ridiculous banter.  He was my random text at night. My puzzle box. I had heard a song the other day that had reminded me of him and it had made me a little sad. I regretted telling him about my blog. I wish I would have kept it going so that he could continue to make occasional cameo's in my crazy life.

"Ok. So real deal, " he continues. "Come over for some emotional hugging followed by me giving you an 'alright' orgasm all built up to me beating off, convincing you to get slightly more interested in the activity at hand and then me cummin on you this time.  Sorry sacrifices  have to be made. What do you think?"

I know I should be disgusted or at the very least, insulted by his text. The funny thing is,  I'm not. I think it's hilarious.  He's quoting lines from my blog almost verbatum. To funny man. The last we spoke I had sent him the WCC blog spot link. He had read, "The Creeper," and had completely flipped out on me. He had  text me all night nonstop trash talking about my blog. He had called me trite and said that in every line I was patting myself on my back. (I had almost text him back, "You get me man...you get me," but in the end, I decided against it.)  That I had made myself the hero of the story at his expense. He said that I was simply giving a clever lecture instead of allowing for both sides to give input about the relationship. That I should post his side of the story and then see what my readers would think.

He was right. Well partially. I actually write myself not as the hero, but as the SUPER hero of my stories. No one wants to hear your side of the story Creeper. If that's what you want to do then write your own blog. I write about what you show me. In real life there are no confessionals. Women seldom know the reasons behind why a man is being a dick. All they see is the dick.  I write about what you DO, not what you think. We are defined by our actions. Not the vision we have of ourselves in our heads.

"Ah. Sweet Creeper. Don't ever change. You will forever be my pervy boo," I send him.

"See you at midnight/1am," he says.

Like that's ever going to happen. I may have missed his occasional pervy text but there is no part of me that wants to see this fool again. Plus I'm pretty sure that if I showed up he would be waiting for me with a baseball bat.  I think it's safe to say he is not a fan of WCC.

"lol...Lord knows what you would have waiting for me, " I text him.

"Just some crymaxing. It's cool," he sends.

Ew.

"I'm afraid to ask what that means, " I  send.

"Tears for lube, " he replies.

"Annnnnndd that would be why.."  I respond. "Sorry. No more visits to Creeperland for me...I do wish I could have known you on the other-side of the rainbow though."

It's true. I wonder who this guy is outside the perv. Since the first time I met him I wanted to see him in his own environment.  He was so strange one on one. I mean who is this guy outside of his stoner garageland? Guess I'll never know.

"Ha ha. I don't give the real me out to anyone," he says. 

Interesting.  I think this guy has been seriously damaged. I'm not sure what exactly happened with his ex but man was he hurt. He has completely separated himself from well, himself.  He has turned dating and women into a game. (I can respect that)  He told me once that he had intentionally turned himself into what every women hated most.  He talks about BJ's and never takes them out. Since I've met him  all he does is get stoned in his garage while shooting out disgustingness to the female population of Match-dom. 

That could explain my constant confusion with him in the past. I could sense the pain. He would occasionally show his sensitivity. Then he  would completely throw me off with his doucheness.  He has built up his walls and shows women what he wants them to see in an attempt to not show them who he unfortunately is. A sensitive insecure man who was wrecked and who still remains angry at the bitch who wronged him.

"Ha. Same here. I thought there was something about you I liked," I tell him.

I think that's the part I miss most about The Creeper. The fact  that we were both playing each other. And neither one of us cared. We didn't try to hide the fact that we were playing a role. We just engaged in our faux relationship and kept it going to avoid the boredom of being the real us.

"So you'll be here in 10-15 orrrrrr?" he sends.

Or what?  I choose to ignore you, pop some popcorn and write all this shit down? Yes, yes I will.

I end the texting here. There is no where for this to go. I love the Cameo but I honestly can't keep up the banter. Plus I definitely have no plans of ever seeing the guy again.  For one, there's no way I couldn't stomach allowing him to touch me again. Second, I realize that it's not Creeper 'the man' I miss. It's Creeper 'the character'.  I love the people  I write about. Not because of who they are but because of who I make them. I kept Creeper  around because to me he was a colorful pervy character. But in reality he is just a pervy asshole jerk who I really shouldn't be talking to . 

I posted this last exchange in loving memory of you Creeper. I think going forward I'm going to have to leave you dead. Once again, RIP Creeper.

I got  off work at around 6:30pm. Traffic was a bitch. I had a few friends  text me inviting me out but by the time I had braved through the 1 hour traffic of the 10 fwy I was toast.

When I got home the whole crew was there. It felt  so good to not have to walk into an empty home. The lights were on and the place was warm. Hippie Chick comes out of her room and asks me how work was.

"Long,"  I respond.

She then asks if I want to go to the grocery store so  that we can pick up some dinner. Man I'm loving this roommate thing already.

We  pick up a huge slab of salmon and some wine. Once back at The Plex,  I put on some music and we cooked our boys a feast. Baked teriyaki Salmon with tomatoes, brown nutty rice, mash potatoes, green beans and 2 healthy bottles of Red wine.

I rummaged  through my boxes and found 4 colorful cubed candles that we place on a long dish for our table. We dimmed the lights and  ate our first family dinner  together. It was so nice! It was just me, Hippie Chick, Mr. Boston and Homeless Boyfriend. Perfect. Valentine's with my new Hipster Roomies. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

We sat in our little breakfast nook eating for about 2 hours just shooting the shit. I had myself two glasses of wine so you know I was loaded. I decide to send The Highlander a text.                    .

"How was your Vday?" I send.

"Not very eventful. How about you?"

"Had our first "family" dinner here at The Plex.  Nice, still chit chatting over wine. I've had two glasses. Which means I'm loaded," I tell him.

"Yes I recall your alcohol equivalence. Too bad I'm not there to take advantage of You!" he responds.

What?! Did The Highlander just come onto me?  I didn't think he had it in him. All I know is that I'm a bit drunk and I like it.

"I'm not far," I text back.

"Ha ha," he replies.

He's  right to laugh. I'm totally stuffed and buzzed and tired and really comfy in my new home with my new Plex family. I'm in for the night.

"Yeah, I'm full of it," I admit.  "But I could torture you with my junk tv as we lay on my bed and eat popcorn."

"Yes, I know you're full of it!" he tells me.

Hey! I can say that not you mr.

"Don't challenge me...that's it! I'm back in..." I tell him.

"I was gonna actually invite you over today in homage to Vday. But sadly never heard from  you and now your to drunk.  Oh well..." he says.

Now who's full of it.

"Yeah right," I respond.

"I'm being serious!"

"If you wanted to invite me you should have just called," I tell him.


 Now I'm a bit sad. I believe him. I would have loved to finally meet the elusive Highlander.

"Well I just wanted to see what the universe had in store for today...guess you were meant to spend time with family. You usually bug me at some point during the day and it just didn't happen this time."

"Hey! It was my first day back to work after a long weekend. I was slammed. Then an hour in traffic. I didn't get home until 7:30pm. But its sweet you thought of me," I text him.

"Yup! It's just as well because I was feeling melancholy today and wouldn't have been good company," he says in what I can only assume is an attempt to make me feel bad for him.

"Oh no worries there. I would have snapped you out of that in a jiffy," The wine texts back. I mean I text back.

"I see your two glasses over your maximum," he replies.

"I know. I'm officially useless...except for cuddle time. I could totally do that really well right now."

"Yes I realize that but sadly we are apart," he tells me.

This is fun. This is the first time The Highlander and I have really ever flirted. I know I should stop. I mean I'm supposed to be keeping this one on the friend tip. Damn wine. You're such a flirty creature.

"If only there were a way for you to get here without getting into a wreck?  Hmm..." he continues. "If only there were a way."

"I'm not that drunk," I respond.


I actually am but whatever.  He doesn't know that.

"Ha ha...I'm happy that you had a great Vday," he tells me.

"It was nice...but the prospect of invading your bat cave would have rocked too," I say.

"Ha. Don't worry. Soon," he responds.

I hope so. I've obviously totally thrown the friend thing out the window. When I meet you sweet Highlander, it's gonna be game on.

I turn back to my roomies.  We are now gathered around Homeless boyfriends computer watching random YouTube music video's. We talk for another hour or so about what we should name the bowling league we want to start and when we should have our housewarming. Soon 2 am rolls around so we all say our good nights and head to our beds.

This truly was a great Valentine's day. I spent it with my loved ones.  My true LA Fam Bam.

Today was a day worth remembering.

Happy Valentine's Roomies!  And to you Dear Reader. I hope you spent it with someone you love.

I know I did.

 

WCC

Highlander - There can only be one.

I think The Highlander and I are fighting.These guys are funny. I don't know how I manage it but I always seem to find the most sensitive of the male race. 

I've been texting back and forth with The Highlander for a few weeks now. He doesn't want to meet. Not just yet. Not until he is further along in his rehabilitation. You see The Highlander was in a motorcycle accident about 5 months ago. A man drove into him sending his bike flying 100 feet down the road. As for The Highlander? 50 feet. He told me that you could see the impression of his knee in his gas tank.

He suffered some serious road rash, a concussion and when he looked down at his leg he found it facing the opposite direction. Horrible.  I don't know all the details. From what I've been able to glean from him he had 5 surgeries in one week. There were skin graphs and metal plates involved. He was in a wheel chair for a long time. He's finally on crutches and close to walking with out them.  I guess someone took the "there can only be one" line a little to seriously.

The Highlander was already a super shy guy to start with but now any previous insecurities have been tripled. He lost so much. His job, his home, his independence.  He doesn't want to see me until he knows he can walk up to me on his own two feet. Sweet. And unnecessary. I wouldn't care. He is kind and handsome and I want to know him.

I almost pulled back when I heard his story. I was afraid of hurting him. I'm not looking for a relationship and I don't want to sensationalise his life or hardships. But then I took another look at his picture and all my rationalities went out the window. I mean have you seen Christoper Lambert?  The man gives me goosebumps. The Highlander is his younger spitting image. I have to meet him.

I pulled back a bit in our interactions. I told him let's take the dating option off the table and just be friends. Honestly I'm not even sure if Highlander and I will even click. From what I can gather he is very well educated.. He is a sweet considerate yet hot nerd.  He is the only person I have ever met that text's me using complete sentences. He uses words like 'intriguing' when I try to flirt with him. The larger his words the more I dumb down my response's. He knows I'm doing it in an attempt to loosen him up. He tries to joke back. It's cute.

He likes to ask me a lot of questions. He has asked about my writing. I told him that I am working on a book which is a partial truth. I read him "Birthday Countdown." He loved it. In return he recited  a poem to me that he had wrote in college. I was surprised and impressed. I plan on having him email it to me so that I can post it. It is lovely.

I soften myself when I speak to him. I genuinely want him to move out of his depression and back into the light. I think it's working. I'm one of the chosen few he actually bothers talking to. He said something really sweet to me the other day while we were texting.

Highlander: "I'm sure we will be in eachother's life for some time. Especially if our interaction continues at this pace. So there should be alot of opportunity to gauge our commonalities."

Let me translate the geek talk. He is telling me that he is already attached to me and that we were moving really fast. So we have plenty of time to better understand all the many ways we were similar.

I didn't know how to take this statement. I was at dinner with the hipster crew waiting for the Foo Fighters show to start when I first read it. He and I are from two completely different worlds. To him we were progressing nicely in our relationship. For me? Well I was tired of waiting around for him to man up and see me. I'd hardly call a few phone calls and texts a growing relationship.  Or so I thought.

I don't know how it happened but our texting took an odd turn tonight that ended with my feelings getting hurt.

"Feeling better?" he text me at first.

"Actually yes. It's not gone but better." I respond. 

"Glad to hear it? U should really take better care of yourself. Sounds like uv been 'burning the candle at both ends' for awhile. & eventually that catches up w U."

God this guy is sweet. He has been checking in on me for the last three days to see how I've been feeling. Mean while I've been running around town to strip joints and Foo Fighter concerts.

"I always burn hot. I have a hard time allowing myself to relax." I text back.

"Well being older & WISER than you, just saying you should learn to handle that better; and slow things down a bit." Ok dad.

"Well if I had someone mellow I could hang out with maybe I could learn to relax." I respond. I do this every conversation we have. We've made a game of me asking to meet and The Highlander dodging my requests.

"Haha, I really don't think your all that impressionable! Even if what you were saying was true. Plus that would require a significant investment of your time; a commodity you have in short supply." (I'm not making this up. He really talks like this. This is his text verbatim.)

I'm slightly insulted by this statement. I am the multi tasking queen. He has no idea that not only can I make time for him but I could make time for atleast two other guys comfortably. And everyone of them would get my undivided attention. Hopelessly devoted remember?

I text back, "I prioritize. I make time for what I want to do."

"Maybe if you sized back some of your existing commitments and time constraints, that person would materialize in your life....you can talk about prioritizing all you want but the fact remains that there are only so many hours in a day."

Ok, now he is starting to piss me off.  He's treating me like I'm some insane party girl who never sleeps and pushes away her chances of meeting anyone because of it. I mean what the hell? He doesn't read my blog.  How in the hell does he know that?

"Your not looking deep enough. There are reasons why I keep so busy. It keeps 'the lonely' away." I reply instead. He is starting to make me feel shallow and I don't like it so I decide to get real with him.

"I've actually considered that! But I seriously don't think you could feel lonely even if you cut back 20% of your current activities. Firstly, you don't strike me as someone who's not comfortable with herself or is desperate for company. Secondly, in order to bring something or someone prominent into your life, you need to create a vacuum to attract it."

Now I am insulted. I hate when I am being truly honest with someone and they call bullshit.  And whats worse he's trying to tell me that I won't be able to attract a man. Me? Please.

But you know what I think bothers me the most about this text? The fact that he is the man that I am currently talking to. I take his statement as a personal dig. I think for one he is partially jealous of my busy lifestyle. He has been stuck in his bed for months only leaving for rehab or surgeries. And second he sounds worried that I won't have anytime for him or the type of relationship he is looking for. Both possibilities irritate me.

"I'm actually trying to be ok with not looking. This is the first time in 15 years that I've been allowed to just be me. I'm trying to learn to be ok with that. I mean I was married for over a decade. I miss waking up and knowing my place in the world.  I'm trying to figure out who I am outside of a relationship. " Now I'm being brutality honest with the guy and I'm not loving it. I'd rather keep things light. I mean I haven't even met him yet, but what he's saying is bothering the hell out of me.

"I wasn't kidding when I said let's skip the dating thing, " I continue, " I love meeting new people. Finding out who they are. I want to know you. That's all."

"I wasn't suggesting that you weren't serious and think you should dedicate time for yourself! I just don't want you to burn out and risk your health in the interim." he responds with a smiley face. "I don't believe that I said you should be dating anyone at this point in time, even if that person were to be me."

This statement calms me a bit. I mean why am I getting so worked up over this?

"Just writing my thoughts down. You suggested that I wouldn't be able to find someone unless I created time and space for them. I was just saying I'm ok with that...and then I took a jab at the fact that I wanted to know you but your too much of a isolated hermit to hang lol...get out of the vacuum man!" I respond hoping to lighten the mood.

"From what I've seen and heard so far, you have ALOT of people that you put into a 'bestys' category; correct me if I'm wrong. And I just want to be distinguish between the few close friends you have and everyone else. And I wouldn't want to feel that I'm just one of your minions, whether as a friend or more. Finding someone was to suggest that you would just have to be pigeon holed into a intimate relationship! I was speaking generally about anyone that would be close, important and impactful in your life." He ends this with a smiley face with its tongue sticking out.

I know I should be enjoying the fact that he wants to be special to me. That he doesn't want to just be one of the crowd. I should appreciate his minions line. That was funny. But I can't seem to get past the first sentence.

"I have 5 people who I consider my 'Besty's'. My dad always told me that if you could count your friends on one hand you should consider yourself lucky. I know people, but only 5 know me."

Its damn true! Daria, Henny, Hippie Chick, Pop a Squat and Dimples....and Glasses is getting there.

He responds, "FYI I'm NOT isolating myself! If I were, we would never have met. I'm just easing myself back into socializing because it doesnt' come naturally to me and I've been through a very traumatic experience not less than 5 months ago."

Now I feel bad. I mean what is wrong with me? I don't know why I'm taking everything so personally.  I mean the guy has a point. I HAVE been burning from both ends and I've made more friends in the last month than I did most of last year. He's trying to be a concerned friend and I'm acting like he's a jealous boyfriend. I calm down and turn back on the sweet.

"I know. I want to help. Trust me. I'm good at this." The whole point of continuing to talk to The Highlander was to help get him over his accident and out of his shell. I need to focus.

"And don't I know it!" he tells me. "If I didn't believe you were trying to help, I wouldn't be investing so much time trying to get to know you! Which by the way, is more than anyone else I've met on Match."

Ok. Things are back to normal again. Just then I walk by a mirror and get a good look on my dye job from earlier today. "Omg!" I text him. "I just looked in the mirror...my hair lady made me so freaking blond! I'm glowing lol..."

"Well guess that's gonna go a long way to proving to those that might be so inclined to think of you as an angel." he texts. Ahhhhh. Nerd compliments. I love it.

"Lol. It's my role. To help others. To entertain. To give. To show. I figured that out a long time ago. That's why I was pushing to meet before. You need to loosen up man. Let's just hang in your empty apartment and watch Family Guy on your bed while you complain about your achy leg."

I'm dying at this point to go over there. I want to meet him. I want to see him. I want to look into his eyes and figure out who this guy is.

"I don't really feel like that's your 'role'. Any healthy relationship is mutually beneficial and balanced. And I definitely don't want to talk about my leg anymore! Have to live with that 24/7 and not much of a complainer; because I just rather not attract anymore negativity into my life. And just because I haven't met with you yet doesn't mean that all your efforts have gone unnoticed or unappreciated!"

Most guys would have made some pervy comment about my "lets watch tv in your bed" line. But not my Highlander. My sweet nerd.

"Than let's say it's been my role. But if I can make you feel better I'd be getting something out of it don't you worry Mr Man. It would make me infinitely happy to see you relax a bit." Now I'm starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. We are having ourselves a pretty serious talk considering that we are both still strangers to one another. Without eye contact I feel like I'm talking to a ghost.

"Ha ha. Yeah yeah., " he responds. "There's only so much you or anyone can do! Most of my problems and concerns are circumstantial and it'll take along time to get over. But thanks."

I'm getting frustrated again. I don't know where all of this is going. I mean it doesn't seem like we're going to meet anytime soon. I'm beginning to tire of all the texting. I mean what if we finally meet a month down the line and he doesn't look anything like his photo? Or even if he does the chemistry isn't there? I mean maybe he is weird or has a twitch or something? All of these deep conversations would feel like such a waste if we meet and end up not speaking afterwards.  I decide to tell him my concerns.

"Just looking to give you some sort of a reprieve...and honestly texting with a stranger makes me nervous. I texted and spoke with a guy from Match for two weeks before. We talked about our families and other deep things. Then the day after we finally hung out we never spoke again. I don't like all the chit chat with a profile pic. Just a 2 second meet and greet so I can look you in the eye." I'm hoping this statement will create some sort of eta on when we can meet.

"Well you should know that I'm not the typical guy by now! But I understand your concerns and will try to accommodate them in some manner that will be acceptable to both of us. And enough with all the texts already! lol I wastn' expecting this to be such a lengthy conversation."

First of all I love the texting. Easier to copy your words to my blog page my dear. And second, what does he mean by accommodating me in a way that's acceptable to both of us? I mean does this guy have some alternate form of meet and greet in mind? Is he trying to make video chatting the second phase of our dating relationship or what?

"My reception sucks at home. I could just come over and shoot the shit with you in person if you want." I know he won't agree to this but I thought it would be cute to ask again.

"Here we go again! lol You know there is no rush to get everything said and done between us RIGHT NOW. Think your the one who needs to relax."

That's the line that did it.  I hate to be told to relax. I mean seriously dude? Not only has it been two weeks already but your not even giving me a date as to when you'll be ready to join the real world again. I enjoyed the texting at first but it's getting harder and harder for me to think of him as a real person. He is just a voice. A text in my phone. I'm running out of things to say. I need to categorize him first. Is he going to be a friend or lover?  I can't answer that unless I meet him. I need to see if there is a spark.

I don't respond. My feelings are hurt. I feel like I've been scolded and I'm not enjoying the conversation anymore.  I know I'm over reacting but I can't help it. I'm frustrated. I'm a doer. When I decide I want something or someone I make it happen. Some call it impulsive. I like to think of it as being decisive.

I never text back. He sent his last text about an hour ago.

Now that I've written down the conversation I realize it really wasn't all that bad. He was just asking me to slow down so that I could rest.

I should have more patience with him. He is injured and recovering and has put aside a decent amount of time for me. So he doesn't want to meet. So what? What is my rush? Do I think I'm going to like this guy? No, I don't think so. Then what's my deal?

Who's running this show?

It must be The Loneliness. I need to fight that bitch back. She has a nasty habit of forcing me into a relationship. Whether I'm ready to or not. And I am not.

Then there is Carrie, my alter ego. I definitely need to restrain that nut. She is a little devil and is dying to jump this guys bones. She loves to hear a nerd moan.

I think I'll text him back tomorrow and let him know I was hurt. He'll love my sensitivity. For now I'll leave him with my silence. Maybe that will put some fire under his ass.

Hope to see you soon Highlander.  Your not The One, but I think you can be my right now. If I can just get you out of your house and into the light.

When you do, I'll be here waiting.

WCC

Cool Rider

Leave it to me to forget to charge my phone and miss a photo op with Superbads McLovin.

I had a super mellow day today. Nothing much was going on with work. I was thinking about heading down to Orange County to see a friends band play but was still playing it by ear. I haven't been feeling well so I wanted to see how I felt at the end of my day before I committed. I also had the option to go kick it with Glasses for a few hours tonight. He's a few Blogs behind so it was time for me to go by and give him a reading.

At around 3pm I get a text from Hippie Chick, "Any interest in seeing the Foo fighters tonight? Secret show but we have to pick up tix at 5pm in echo park. $20 each."

I mean did she seriously need to ask?

"Uh hell yeah!! I have cash on me..what time would I need t meet up with you?" I text back.

HC, "Gonna leave The Plex at 4pm. Are you home?"

I tell her I'm not so we decide to meet at the EchoPlex at 5pm.

The only problem was I didn't get off work until 6pm. There is no way I'm missing the Foo Fighters. Luckily for me my assistant manager had been nagging me to call the doctor all day. I've been hacking up a lung for the last couple of days and being the mama bear she is she was concerned. So I tell her I'm going to call the doctor in the back. I pick butt in my stock room for a few minutes and then come back out to the sales floor in a panic.

"They said they can see me today but at 5pm...I'm going to call someone in." I tell her hurriedly.

She falls for it and an hour later I'm in my car speeding down the 101 freeway to the EchoPlex.  I feel a tad bit guilty using her concern for me like this. Not enough to deter me but my guilt has been noted.

I barely make it in time. I call up Hippie Chick and she guides me to a parking lot next to the line. The Street Artist comes running up and pulls me back to where she is waiting. I hear a grumble from behind me as I slip in next to her. I'm oblivious and luckily give off a strong enough bitch guard to keep the complainers from speaking directly to me. Five minutes later we hear the announcement.

"The line cut off is here," he says gesturing about 10 people behind me, "Congratulations. You all will be getting tickets. Anyone behind this mark. Sorry. No wristband. No entry. Have a good night!"

We are thrilled! The three of us High five each other and do a little happy dance.  Then we get a call from Astro Boy. We all look at eachother sending a silent, "Uh oh". The Street Artist answers and tells him the bad news. HC and I can hear his screams of sorrow through the phone.

Street Artist hangs up and tells us,"Dude he is freaking out. He was screaming and talking about how shitty his life is. I mean if I was walking down the street and heard him I would have been afraid. This is bad. I mean like suicide watch bad."

We all look at each other not sure what to do. There is no way he can slip into the line at this point. The security gaurds all over us and if we let in one more person there will be a riot for sure.The line starts to move again so for the moment we let it go.  We walk up and after paying our $20 and showing our ID's we receive a wristband (which they place securely on our wrists) and a map to the actual performance location. The Echoplex was a decoy. The performance is going to be held at Spaceland in Silver Lake. Those tricky tricksters.

We all link our wrist banded arms together and run to the car hoping not to get jumped by the 50 people who are still waiting in line. We pile into my car and drive down to meet up with Homeless boyfriend at a Mexican food joint down the way. He is already on the guest list for tonight so he was able to skip the chaos. We call up Astro to join us.

He walks in and looks beyond bummed. We order up a few pitchers of margaritas and keep refilling his glass until the suicidal look leaves his eyes.  Dinner was silly fun as usual. We chant our waitress's name in appreciation everytime she approaches the table and the Street Artist and I decide that we were each others dates for the night. To make it official we both pull out our phones and change our Facebook status to "In a Complicated Relationship". We decide that for the next few weeks we would leave public love messages to each other and have an occasional 'wall' fight.

These are the types of moments I love having. I love not having to answer to anyone. I can have a fake boyfriend if I want too and I can show up to random concerts whenever I want and I can sit in this damn booth and drink my alcoholic beverage and not have to call one damn person to explain any of it. Being single really rocks sometimes. As you know this is the first time I've been single for more then a month in over 15 years. I'm really starting to get into my groove. Man I've been missing out.

It's nearing show time so we all pile into our cars. Hippie Chick and Homeless boyfriend in theirs, me and my date Street Artist in the other. We tell Astro to cruise down to Spaceland and meet us. I mean you never know? We might be able to sneak his unhappy ass in.

We get to the venue lickity split. Its a small nondescript building at the base of a hill. The billboard out front reads, " The White Limo" after the Foo Fighters new album.

I guess back in 1995, Club Spaceland opened its doors with a small unheard of band opening for Beck. That band was the Foo Fighters. Today was the last day that Spaceland would have its original name. It was fitting that the Foo Fighters would close down the place they first opened all those years ago. The venue's new name was going to be Satellites. Lame.

After securing some parking, Street Artist and I roll up to the front of the club arm in arm. We see Astro waiting in line along with 30 other people. Man this sucks so bad. Getting him in is starting to look more and more like an impossibility. We ask if HB and HC are inside. He Shrugs his shoulder so we head into the venue to take a look. No wait. No hassle. We just flash them our magic wristbands and in we go. Awesome.

The place is tiny! I can't believe I'm actually going to see the Foo Fighters in such an intimate space. There are two rooms divided by a small waist height wall. Up a short flight of stairs is a pool room with a second bar that overlooks the stage. The stage itself is just big enough to support a full band. The walls are covered by a metallic blue and silver curtains. The lighting and sound system are decent. On stage a punk band is destroying the music world with their shitty rendition of punk rock. The Street Artist and I decide to make the most of it and dance around while waiting for the bartender to take our order.

All of a sudden The Street Artist bolts across the room towards the door. I look over and to my surprise I see Hippie Chick, Homeless Boyfriend and oh lord I can't believe my eyes, Astro Boy all locked into a hug! The Street Artist crashes into them and they all swing around in his embrace. I yell out a, "No freaking way!" and run over too. We are all hugging and screaming as if Astro just got back from war. I don't know how he did it but Homeless Boyfriend worked his line bypass magic and got him in.

"Please remind me about this moment the next time I say to any of you my life sucks ok?" he tells us. We all laugh and high five each other. I know we all must look completely nuts but none of us care. That's one thing I love about the Hipster crew. They are all confident individuals that could give a shitless about what they look like in front of others. These aren't Party Chasers. They are the party.

Street Artist and I lead the crew back over to the bar so that they can order a drink. I stand to the side. I had one Margarita at the restaurant so im good to go. I'm still feeling pretty shitty so I decide to stick to water the rest of the night. I start to look around the room when I notice a familiar face a few heads down the bar. It's Dave Grohl.

"Oh my god, Street look!" I say to Street Artist as I pull on his shoulder.

"Holy shit" he says.

There the man was just kicking it at the bar in a black hooded sweatshirt and a beer in hand. And here I was cameraless. My phone had died when we were at the restaurant. Unfreaking believable. I settle for staring. It will have to do.

"Hey look, there's Mclovin." Street Artist says as he swings me around.

Now I'm pissed. I always have my camera and the one time I don't I miss a photo op with Dave Grohl and Chistopher Mintz the actor who played freakin Mclovin in Superbad.

"Let's ask him if he wants to go outside and smoke with us,"The Street Artist says grinning.

"Let's do it!" I reply laughing. I start to walk towards him when Streets stops me. "Wait. Let me look up his real name." he says pulling out his phone.

"Good one!" I tell him.

We are both hunched over his phone looking it up when Mclovin comes walking passed us. I push down Street Artist's phone so that he doesn't see our stalker ass's looking at his head shot.

"Fast thinking," Streets says laughing.

We get his name and tell the crew our plan. We leave them at the bar laughing and Street Artist drags me through the crowd after Mclovin. We figure it will be easier to approach the guy if Streets has a hot chick by his side.

We pull up next to him and Street says,"Hey Chris, How are you? I just wanted to see if you wanted to come out with us and hit the pipe for a sec?"

Mclovins eyes open up wide and then he throws his head back and laughs. "Thank you thank you but my asthma has been really bad so I've had to cut back on that stuff. But whats your name man?"

"Street Artist," he tells him as they shake hands.

Then Mclovin's eyes fall on me and he asks," And yours?"

"Carrie" I tell him as he gives my hand a squeeze.

Street and Mclovin exchange a few more words that I don't catch over the shitty bands screaming. We give him a wave and then walk away. That was fun. Mclovin. Funny.

We head back to the gang just in time to see Kathy Griffin and Ron Jeremy walk through the door arm in arm.  Could this night get any better?  I love Kathy. Love love her. Her honesty and uncensored non existent filters remind me of someone near and dear to me....

The horrid band finally finishes up and The Foo Fighters step onto the stage. I can't believe how close I am to them. I mean there is seriously barely 200 people in this joint. It's unbelievable!

Now I've been a fan of the Foo Fighters. I mean they've had more then their share of hits. But nothing prepared me for this. Right before Dave hit his first note Astro turns to me and says, "Be prepared to have your face Rocked Off." He takes his hand  and passes it across his face. Ok my man. Bring it on.

Rocked off was an understatement. The concert was life changing. The band was perfection. Dave's voice flawless. They played every single song from their new album and then proceeded to play every hit they've ever released. We were going nuts! We were bouncing and dancing and laughing and singing along. Astro yells in my ear, "Can you believe how shitty this crowd is?"

He's right. You could see our enjoyment all over our bodies but these boushy wanna be's surrounding us barely even moved. I mean this was a real rock concert. It was loud and hot as satans crotch in the room but we didn't give a shit. We bounced and sweated our way through every song. Meanwhile these losers just sort of swayed there. Not being able to take it anymore the Street Artist empties out his pockets and hands his beer to me.

"I'm going to go stage dive!" he tells me.

Ok. Go for it man.

He takes off through the crowd only to return after 10 minutes looking pissed. "Dude," he says,"These damn losers man. They wouldn't let me get up there! What kind of concert is this?"

Before I can respond I feel Hippie Chicks nails dig into my shoulder."What?" I ask her.

"It's Gwen freaking Stefani." She tells me, her eyes opened wide.

"What!? Where?!" I say back shocked.

"Behind you. Behind the DJ booth against the wall...Next to Gavin Rossdale.." she replies between her teeth. "She looks so beautiful!"

I can't bring myself to turn around. I'm seldom star struck but come on? Its Gwen. I looovvvve her!

I grab HC by the shoulders and turn her back to the DJ booth so that I can look over her shoulder without making it obvious. She was right. There she was. She was leaning up against the wall wearing an oversized black off the shoulder shirt, her hair pulled back into a platinum pony tail with her trademark red lipstick. She looked amazing!

I grab Street Artist and tell him the news in his ear. He asks where she is but then we can't get him to look at her. "I can't look...I can't," he keeps repeating. I grab him by the shoulders like I had HC and place my back to Gwen so that he can look at her over my shoulder.

I can't get the guy to look up. He has securely buried his head into my shoulder and is shaking it back and forth. I laugh and grab the back of his hair and force him to look up. I see his eyes pop open as he spies her with his little eye and promptly turns around to scream.

Just then the Foo Fighters start rocking out another hit. Dave has opened up a water bottle and pours it over his head. He starts swinging his hair around to the music and rips off another rockin wail into the mic.

"That's it!" The Street Artist yells out."I'm surfing!"

He hands me back his beer and sprints through the crowd. A few minutes later I see his little moccasined feet rise into the air. "There he is!" I scream out to HC and HB.

There was our little Street Artist riding the crowd 4 feet away from the Foo Fighters. He would disappear every few seconds down into the crowd and then reappear back up into the air. He had a pretty good ride until security reached over from the top of the stage and pushed him back down. Awesome.

He comes running back to us smiling from ear to ear. We all give him high fives and hugs. I can see Mclovin a few feet away giving us a thumbs up. Then I look over at Gwen and see her staring at us. The women is only about 8 feet away. Like I said the crowd was pretty dull so I know our little group with all its exuberance is sticking out like a sore thumb. I know that look on her face. She wants to hang. I'm tempted to go over and ask her to join our little noisy crowd. But then I think better of it. It will be sort of hard to speak to someone you can't even bring yourself to look directly at.

Her and Gavin take each others hands and walk down from the booth. They are now standing right behind our little group. Astro boy walks over and says to Gavin, "hey man. there are still about 15 people waiting outside in line. Anyway you can do something about that and help get them in?"

Gavin throws back his head and laughs. Leave it to one of ours to try to get a star to help us bypass the line for the dearly rejected outside.  Gavin takes Gwens hand again and they walk out. Gwen seemed blue. She had that, "I'm fighting with my man" expression on her face. Where ever you are Gwen dear, next time, come kick it with us.

The concert seems to go on forever. I think it actually lasted about 2 hours. The boys rocked out atleast 30 songs. I've never seen anything like it. Hippe Chick and I begin to get tired and are way to sweaty to comfortably stand in the crowd anymore. We leave the boys and head upstairs where the air conditioning seems to be located. We take a seat at a booth next to Kathy Griffin. Damn I wish I had my camera. She is so stinking tiny. I had no idea. I could seriously fit her into my pocket.

HC grabs us a couple of waters from the bar and we both sit side by side watching the band from behind the glass divider. I can't believe what a great night its been. I feel so good. I can see the boys down below bouncing around and hugging each other. Homeless Boyfriend is swinging his long hair around doing a pretty good impression of Dave. I giggle to myself. I love this. This is what I needed. To just be able to go out and be me and have a good time. Just then a guy walks by and pauses for a second seemingly staring at my shoes. "Love the black pedicure," he says to me and walks away. "Ew, foot fetish, " HC says.

"We need to find you someone" she says scanning the room.

"Honestly," I tell her, "I'm good. I feel really good. There is not one ounce of me that feels the need to meet someone tonight. I feel good being here alone."

And it's true. I think about my relationships of the past. I mean there is no way Huge Asshole would have been ok with me being here. He was totally insecure and jealous. The whole time I would have been texting him reassurances that I wasn't getting groped all night. Or worse. I would have had to invite him here just so that I could watch him scanning the room moodily looking to see who was looking at my ass.

Then there was Nutty as a Fruitcake. He wouldn't be looking around the room or at the band or necessarily socializing with anybody. He would have had his huge arms wrapped around me in an anaconda like embrace, not caring that it was hot as all hell in the joint. He would have just been looking into my eyes in his,"I worship you more then god" way and telling me how cute I was. It's funny how I really enjoyed his attachment to me in the beginning but soon I tired of being his entire world. It was so draining. He was my first experience with the, "If I can't have you no one can" type of scary breakup. But that's a story I'll save for another blog.

"That's great Carrie," Hippie Chick tells me," Honestly, this is the first time in a long time that I've seen you being you again. This is the Carrie I remember. It's wonderful."

"I know," I tell her "I let my relationships over the last couple of years take over and drain me of who I am. Its crazy how 2 months ago I was a total wreck. I feel so much better being alone now."

"I know," she says. "But I still have my eye out searching for someone for you."

I laugh,"Well I know what I want. When The Street Artist pulled me through the crowd by man hand it made me realize what I wanted from a man. I need a guy who's a leader. I need a guy who brings me to these events not someone who tags along with me. I need someone who is confidant and strong and I don't have to babysit. I mean I just wrote that in my blog the other day. About how I was glad things didn't work out between me and Partyboy. He is a guy I would have to bring here and then babysit. Just another guy I would have to take care of."

"Yeah, but you two have mad chemistry" she tells me."You could see it when you were together."

"I know. It's still there. Whenever I'm around he still tries to get my attention and let everyone in the room know we know eachother. The other night he was leaning on me at the strip club like this." I lean over and demonstrate for her.

"Oh my god dude, he is totally like a little puppy." She says.

"Exactly. He reminds me of Huge Asshole. I know how hard it is to find someone you have chemistry with. I mean I never would have stayed with Huge Asshole as long as I did if it wasn't for the damn sex. It kept me there way longer then I should have stayed through all of his bullshit."

"I know what you mean," she says. "It's hard letting go of something like that. It's great that you know what you want. I mean your older and you've been married and had a few really serious relationships. Your at a point were you can identify what you need from a man and not settle. But just know. I've got my eye out for you."

I laugh and turn back to the band. Just then they pull out another hit from their ass so Hippie Chick and I run back down to the boys to bounce around to the hits.

Dave finally says his goodbyes to the crowd. The Foo Fighters exit the stage, but we are all from LA and know the drill. An encore will be had. Which is the problem with these wanna be snobs in the audience. They give some half ass cheers and applause. Not nearly appreciative enough for the band to fake like they were forced back out onto the stage.

Astro boy takes the problem into his own hands. "Foo Fight. Ers! Foo Fight. Ers!" he begins to chant at the top of his lungs, punctuating each syllable with his fist. Street Artist, Hippie Chick, Homeless boyfriend and I all start to scream out the chant with him. It takes us about 8 chants before the weak crowd finally takes up the chant. But it works. The Foo Fighters step back onto the stage and rock out 5 more songs.

Now that was a freaking amazing concert. This goes down as my favorite of all time.

The night is over. We all head outside so that the boys can get a few interviews for their website before we go. The boys finish up and we all walk back up to our cars.

I pass out hugs and and get in my car and head home a little sad that I'm not heading back to The Plex with the rest of the hipster crew. I'll have to start packing tomorrow for sure.

I had an amazing night. Alone. With no man. I could get used to this being single thing.

But I know the euphoria won't last. We all get lonely. Even me. But now atleast I know what I want.

I'm a huge Grease fan. I own part one and part two. There is a song in part 2 that Michelle Pfeiffer sings that I can't get enough of. I can't say it any better then this so here is it:

"If you really want to know
What I want in a guy...
Well, I'm lookin' for a dream on a mean machine
With hell in his eyes.
I want a devil in skin tight leather,
And he's gonna be wild as the wind.
And one fine night, I'll be holdin' on tight...

To a coooool rider, a coooool rider.
If he's cool enough,
He can burn me through and through.
Whhoa ohhhh
If it takes forever,
Then I'll wait forever.
No ordinary boy,
No ordinary boy is gonna do.
I want a rider that's cool.

That's the way it's gonna be,
And that's the way that I feel.
I want a whole lot more than the boy next door,
I want hell on wheels.
Just give me a fine motorcycle,
With a man growin' out of the seat.
And move aside, cause I'm gonna ride... "

I want a man with hell in his eyes. I want a man who makes me feel like a silly girl everytime he enters the room. I want a man who thrills me. I want a leader. I want a man who is the party. Hell better yet someone who makes the party. I want a man who knows what I need. I want someone I can give into and let him know I'm his for the taking. No ordinary boy will do for me. Not anymore. I want to burn. I want to ride.

I want a Cool Rider.