Go to bed!

It's after 1am. I shouldn't be writing. I should be in bed. I know once I pop I won't stop, just like Pringles.

I'm drunk. No I'm not. I'm tired, but I did have four beers tonight so it's like beer-tired vs. tired-tired. I tried to figure out how many beers I drank in the last 10 years. I estimate I drink about 12 a week now, which means I probably averaged 18 a week in my early twenties. Why does 7,800 beers seem like so few??

Last night with Mick was great. Exactly what I wanted. We finally said everything we wanted to say to each other. I've liked him this whole time and was too much of a pussy to admit it, so instead I did stupid things to fight my feelings. I haven't shared this yet, but I was a bit of an asshole to him a couple of times, too. Like the time I wrote this long random email about how I didn't want anything serious with him or the time we were making out and I asked if he'd mind if I dated one of his friends. Yeah, I'm a schmuck. We've been equally schmucky to each other. Maybe this makes us soulmates. Schmuckmates. It's sad to think we sabotaged our relationship before it got a chance to start.

I'm not quite sure what will happen next. Probably nothing as he's dating that girl now. I guess this is for the best because I'm still a bit of a mess. (Rhyme?) As I wrote in my last post I realized that I've been scared shitless to date since Tat and Banana. Reasons I'm scared: having to break up with someone, having someone dump me, and getting married. So basically I'm scared of every possible dating outcome. Not good.

I decided I need to break through my fears, so this evening I made myself call that bartender from Saturday night, the one with the same real name as Banana. Let's call him Fiver, as he wrote his phone number on a five dollar bill. I left him a message and he called back about an hour later saying I should pop by the bar. I thought it was a little weird to go see him after having such a nice time with Mick last night, but I went anyways.

Um, Fiver is hot. Off the boat Irish hot. And he talked to me a lot too, not like the Crazy Ass owner I went to see a few weeks ago. Did I write about that? Crazy Ass owner told me to come by the bar so we can hang out and get to know each other. I went and he talked to me for all of seven minutes, then ignored my presence for the next twenty. It was really weird. Luckily Fiver was very attentive and cool, so I had a good time. Then this really sexy Black Irish girl came in (you know, pale skin and dark hair) and I almost creamed myself. She oozed sex. Seriously. Maybe she was a vampire. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and she couldn't take her eyes off of Fiver, so I knew I was screwed. He went over to talk to her and they were pretty touchy feely so yeah, done done little done done. At least I got free beer out of him.

Man, I don't know what it was about that girl. I wanted to be her and caress her. I guess that means I want to caress myself? I do have unusually soft skin for someone who doesn't moisturize. Maybe it's the sunscreen.

Fiver said he'd call me. I don't know, those two looked kind of cozy but maybe hot people are just like that. Also I do have the no dating bartenders or actors rule. After I hooked up with Krull a couple of years ago I realized my hours aren't flexible enough and I'm not secure enough to date a bartender. And actors are just fucking annoying. I wish they had an off button.

What an interesting boy week so far...is it only Wednesday? Oh wait, technically it's Thursday now. Yay for fake Friday (I have off real Friday)!

Alrighty, I'm off to bed. Good night, schmuckmates!