I have been craving solitude lately. After several years of living alone, having roommates is just awkward. I have to be concerned with how my living affects two other people. I can't play my music at ridiculously loud levels or leave nasty dishes in the sink for a week. There's also my own weird issues of not wanting them to see how much TV I watch or how much time I spend on Facebook instead of doing something more "productive," and so I quickly disengage from these guilty pleasures when I hear my mom's footsteps coming down the hall. Like I'm 16 years old again, hiding shit from my parents. Plus, my parents- while very lovely people- tend to bring out some of the worst in me. Just the sound of my dad's voice can make me feel like ripping off my ears sometimes.
But one of the best things about them being gone for a week is.... boys. I get to invite boys over to the house! Talk about being 16 years old. I spent some time sorting through my local booty call responses and decided on Shane, a 31-year old recent transplant from Madison, Wisconsin who is a professional poker player who canvassed for Obama in several Wisconsin counties. Shane is witty and intelligent and easy to be around, and attractive in every way. He and I drank way too much whiskey, watched episodes of The Flight of the Conchords, talked politics and waxed poetic about our love for Obama. Shane was Friday.
Saturday I had a girls night out and Sunday was a different boy, Tim, a flight student from England. He was all British and great shoes and amazing kisser and knew way more about American politics than I do. And Pete just left, moments ago.
I don't have a boy lined up for tomorrow night. It seems a shame to have a night at home without the parents around go to waste...
... but you didn't say anything about the sexy time! Were any of them good enough to be programmed into your phone for future encounters?
ReplyDeleteAnonymous: I know, I know. I was going to, but then I felt a little skanky recounting the details. Shane definitely made it into the phone and am super happy to report that he texted me this morning. So, maybe I will have someone over on my last night of empty house syndrome.
ReplyDeleteTim, while an incredibly good kisser (which, to me, is prolly the most important part of sex), was a little reserved in the bedroom. There was a slight hesitation on his part. Which lead to some weird rhythm issues in certain positions. You know what I'm talking about, right? Like, when I'm on top the rhthym can get kinda wonky in some situations. Hmmm, maybe there's more to discuss here in a further post.
Pete was... meh. Bad kisser. I think if the kissing's bad, it's all bad.