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| No, that's not me ;) |
“Crazy little thing called love” – Definitely
it’s crazy, not sure, however, if it’s little. My week has been a roller
coaster of emotion and elation.
First, Mr. Bond is becoming more possessive
of me (in a very sexy way). Friday night was a friend’s birthday party and we
ended up going to this midtown, penthouse rooftop lounge and pool. It was
crowded, too expensive, and over hyped. I think it was called Gansevoort. It’s
one of those places that want to be upper class, but they really are not, there
is neither quality nor class in that place. And the prices are nowhere near
being justified ($18 for low quality cocktails that are worse than ones you
find in dive bars). Back to the story, with our party of 15 – 20 people, with our
table and bottle service we still had fun.
When the guests arrived I realized a small problem. Out of the guys that
were there a few of them had attempted, unsuccessfully, to score a date with me
prior. Normally I wouldn’t care but I had come with a date that I did not want
to have to explain to why some of the men had turned hostile on him. Thankfully
Mr. Bond is very skilled in social arts and resumed talking to socializing with
other people in our crowd without me having to initiate it. As the night
progressed a few brazen strangers have walked up to me directly as I am
standing with my date to compliment me. I must admit there were some very
bizarre pickup lines and compliment I have heard that night, but what stunned
me most is how competitive men become around me. Here I am standing and
socializing with my date, with kisses being exchanged, drinks shared and eye
contact that would make most melt, and yet there are men attempting to cut in
and go for the kill irrespective of that. Very brazen, very rude, flattering
but still undesirable and as my friend puts it – “you and your pretty girl
problems”. What I loved is that instead of backing down, Mr. Bond had some very
interesting comebacks for them. I love confidence, but as the night progressed,
his definitely took a few blows.
One of the people that showed up was
an acquaintance that happens to be an attorney and went to a law school I was
going to go to. So he and I were talking for a bit about things career related.
I asked him how his practice was going and he about my real estate ventures;
Nothing particularly exciting. Soon after, my friend runs up to me telling me: “your
date just asked me if there is anything he should be worried about” in
reference to me talking to this guy. And then I realized, any one I socialized
with, Mr. Bond made sure to be within 5 feet away of me, eyeing me. Even when I
was dancing with a female friend, he stood there looking at me from a far, examining
all my body movements. Granted I became a tease and flirted with him from across
the room by suggestively dancing with that friend, knowing he’s looking at me. I know he couldn’t stop thinking about a
potential threesome but I told him it’s not happening, though I might consider
it for future ventures. Sometimes, I
love the social games we play. The chemistry is so tense, other people start
feeling hot. When this hunt between us
starts, even his best friends are afraid to approach, lest they get on his competitive
side. If most people chase, we hunt. We are two predators after one another and
we tear apart and destroy anyone that gets in the middle.
A night and the day following of
our crazy raging hot sex and a lazy day in bed I realize that even though he is
afraid of admitting it and is fighting it, he has fallen. He is more open to me
about his insecurities and readily tries to share his intimate works –be it allowing
me to read the script he is working on, or see an episode he was featured in,
or look at his photography. Not only does he willingly share all this, but he
makes it a point. When he couldn’t find something he wanted to show me, he went
crazy looking for it.
In public he is this confident,
well held example of a man that only exists in novels and movies. When we are
alone he becomes more like a boy, innocent, scared, vulnerable. When he
realizes this, he tries to (unsuccessfully) hide it. With my experience, men,
once fallen for a woman, always behave that way. Once in love, they become boys
behind closed doors. It’s actually very beautiful in its own way. Probably doesn’t help him since my hair and
scent is now all over his room more so than before, and I am pretty sure his
black shirt will not be dry cleaned for a while after I turned it into my
permanent lounge wear at his place.
He and I are not exclusive, and
knowing this he is still becoming more possessive and jealous. I was supposed
to go on a date today (still might) with a movie producer before he flies back
to LA, and Mr. Bond found out. Granted him and I both know the date is innocent,
nevertheless it did not stop him from sneaking in a hickey onto my neck.
Sneaky, since he planted it in blind spot where I cannot see it, but everyone
else can. After a friend pointed it out, I asked him about it, he tried to
laugh it off. Cute, sexy and hot ;) It
should be illegal for some people to be this sexy and smart, but I LOVE it.
In other news, I think one of my
close friends is falling for me again. That ship has sailed and sank years ago.
I don’t want to hurt him or lead him on, but he and I both know it is not
happening. Worst yet, is that he is a close friend of mine. He is even type
casting his women. Years ago when we
went out, he admitted he was reluctant at first because I have a little thing
called brachydactyly on my left hand (aka, the Megan Fox thumb). Imperfections
like that creep him out. Since then, however, he seems to have been dating only
women who have that. He even admitted to me that he now likes visible
imperfections in women because, according to him, perfection is unnatural and scary.
Granted that is not why I think he is falling for me, there are however, too
many other reasons I will not get into now that do allude to that fact
strongly.
Yup, ladies and gentlemen I present
to you, yet another poor soul I have traumatized for life. That makes it 3
people that I am aware of that typecast their dates to resemble me, even after
years have passed….funny since only one of them is my ex. I think my friends
are right; I need a visible warning label on me so men can read it before
attempting to get involved. I’m a health hazard.
Oh and here's a cool song I heard on True Blood. Enjoy :)
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