He Hasn't Called & I Feel Like I'm Going CRAZY!

     Tyson & I headed to Sharky's on Washington to dance off some of our energy.  Before I knew it, it was 1:45 in the morning, and they were shutting the place down.  So we headed back to my apartment.

     It had been over six hours since we took the E.  I was still feeling waves of energy and emotions coming and going.  It felt kind of like riding a roller coaster.  For 20-30 mins, everything would feel normal, then the high would kick in again.  When that happened, I'd have the desire to touch Tyson, talk to him, and connect.  No wonder they call Ecstasy "The Love Drug".  I felt happy.  Euphoric.  Free.  No inhibitions.  Like a little kid.


    When we got back to my place, we hopped into the shower to cool off and calm us down a bit.  I definitely felt sexual and super touchy-feely. But I didn't necessarily have the desire to have sex.  When we toweled off, we climbed into bed next to each other naked and laid there waiting for our bodies and minds to settle down.  I could also feel Tyson's erection poking me in my side.

ME:  Will you be mad at me if we don't have sex?

TYSON:  No, I won't be mad at you.  I mean, I want to have sex, but whatever.

ME:  It's just, I want to just lay here and feel you.

Tyson was silent.

ME:  Plus, I heard that if you have sex while your on E it will never feel as good again.

He laughed.

TYSON:  That's an old wives tale.  I've had sex on it before, and afterwards everything was just fine.

I shrugged and cuddled in closer under his arm.  A few moments later, I could hear his breathing level off.  This was the first time he'd ever stayed with me through the whole night.


                                                          ***

     At about 9:30am, I heard someone moving around in my bedroom.  I rolled over and wiped a little bit of drool off of my chin.  The bed next to me was empty.  I looked over and saw Tyson peering at his own reflection in the mirror, and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

ME:  Good morning.

TYSON:  Morning.

He walked over and gave me a peck on the cheek.

TYSON:  I gotta take off.  My roommate needs a ride to pick up her car from the shop.

ME:  Ok.  I'll see you soon?

TYSON:  Sure.

He started out of the room, then turned back.

TYSON:  Drink some orange juice and go for a walk or something.  It'll help with the After-E blues.

ME:  Thanks.

     Well, the huge glass of orange juice I drank an hour later DIDN'T help.  Neither did sitting in the bottom of my shower crying for no apparent reason like I was in some 1980's movie starring Molly Ringwald.  I felt tired, depleted, and agitated.  So I fixed myself a huge salad, then cleaned my apartment from top to bottom.   By then, it was 4:30 in the afternoon.  I looked at my phone.  Nothing.  No call from Tyson to check up on me and see how I was feeling.  No call from my mom, or any of my girlfriends, not even a call from Marco.  No one loved me today.

    I tried to shake it off.  Maybe Tyson was right. Maybe a nice jog would make me feel better.  Instead of going on my normal route around my neighborhood, I opted for a run in Santa Monica near the stairs.  I changed into a Dodgers baseball cap, and old pair of cut off sweatpants with a Univ of Miami t-shirt.  I wasn't exactly winning any fashion awards today.

     It was your typical Southern California day. Bright, sunny with tons of people outside being active.  I remember thinking to myself, 'God it seems a bit TOO sunny out today. Can you scale it back a bit please?'  Then I realized my attitude was probably just the After-E blues talking as I put on my shades and did a few rounds on the stairs.  After stretching, I began a light jog towards the ocean.  Wow. This really DID work, I was starting to feel better.  Then I saw him.  But NO, that couldn't be him!  I stopped and dipped behind a palm tree as I looked at who I THOUGHT appeared to be Tyson sitting on a bench on Ocean Avenue with a tiny brunette.  I took off my sunglasses and rubbed my eyes.  He turned his face a little towards me and, yup that was him.

     My heart was pounding in my ears. I felt light-headed.  What was wrong with me? Why was my body reacting like this?  I'm sure it was just a friend, or maybe his roommate.  Then he leaned over and kissed her, and my heart dropped into my stomach.  The girl nuzzled up next to him and I could see that they were holding hands and their fingers were interlaced like lovers.  He'd never held MY hand like that. Then he pulled the girl onto his lap so that she was straddling him and I almost lost my salad.  I turned away from the scene and leaned my back against the palm tree trying to steady my breathing.  Who was this girl?!  Was it his girlfriend??  What was going on?

     By the time I turned back around, they had gotten up and were walking in the opposite direction.  I stopped myself from running up to them and saying hello.  Probably because my feet felt like they were being held down by cement.  I touched my face and felt wet tears on my cheek.

Ecstasy Days, Moonbeam Nights

I was ten minutes late getting to the coffee shop on Venice to meet Brandon.  Lucky for me, he's consistently fifteen minutes late every time we link up.

BRANDON:  Sorry, Gia.  I lost track of time at the gym and then traffic was crazy on the way here and-

ME:  Brandon, relax. It's ok.  I got you a Cafe Latte non-fat w/ Splenda.

BRANDON:  You know me well.

ME:  Yes I do.

BRANDON:  So how's the new job?

ME:  It's fantastic!  I'm flying to New York in 2 days to do a fitness segment on Good Morning America.

BRANDON:  G! That's fantastic.  Wow!  A few months ago, I thought I was going to have to commit you and now-you're a star.

ME:  I wasn't THAT bad.

BRANDON:  I'm really proud of you.

ME:  How are things with you?  

BRANDON:  Couldn't be better.  My contract with "Generations of Bold Children" got picked up for a year.  I'm officially a soap opera star.

ME:  Suddenly, the world all makes sense.

BRANDON:  Not exactly my dream acting gig, but it's a hell of a lot better than slinging drinks at Birds.

ME:   Plus you get to make out with hot actresses all day long.

BRANDON:  Bonus.

ME:  What's your girlfriend think about all this?

BRANDON:  My lady?  She's cool.  Now I can actually afford a ticket to New York to see her more than once a year.

ME:  I don't know how you two lovebirds do it.  Long distance for 2 years?!  

BRANDON:  It's definitely not easy.

ME:  Why don't you just marry her and BE together.

BRANDON:  She's got her job in New York with the consulting firm making SICK money. There's no way I could ask her to give that up.

ME:  And I don't really picture you singing and skipping across a Broadway stage.

BRANDON: Uh, no.

ME:  So do you notice anything different about me?

BRANDON:  Your hair?

ME:  No.

BRANDON:  Hmmm...there's a little sparkle in your eye.  You got laid!

ME:  Bingo!

BRANDON:  Who's the lucky guy?

ME:  Well, I don't want to say much because I don't want to jinx it.  But we've been seeing each other for about 6 weeks now and it's pretty intense.

BRANDON:  Holy shit.  Giovanna has broken her celibacy vow.

ME:  It wasn't a VOW per se.  I was just waiting for the right guy and the right moment.

BRANDON:  Well good luck.  So when are you going to see him again?

ME:  Tonight.

A few hours later, I was waiting anxiously at my apartment for Tyson to show up with the goods.  As I checked my cell phone for the tenth time, I heard a knock at the door.

TYSON:  You look HOT!

ME:  Thanks.  Come on in.

Tyson plopped down on the couch and picked up the remote.  I sat down next to him excitedly.

ME:  So???

TYSON: I got it.  Don't you trust me?

ME:  That is yet to be determined.  Let's see it!

He pulled a small baggie out of his pocket and dangled it in front of me.

TYSON:  My boy, Mike told me this is the best stuff. Pure MDMA.

ME:  So what's the plan?

TYSON:  I'm thinking we drop it here, wait about 30 minutes until the sun is about to set, then head down to the beach.

ME:  Great idea.  

About 45 minutes later, sitting with Tyson on the balcony, I started to recognize the familiar signs.  My hands began to sweat.  The color of the palm trees suddenly seemed to glow a brilliant green, and they waved in slow motion as if saying "Hello, Giovanna. Look how beautiful we are."

I took a deep, slow breath and felt my heart pumping rapidly inside my chest.  Then a wave of emotion passed over me.  Suddenly, their was a moist feeling between my legs.  I looked at Tyson.

TYSON:  You feeling it?

ME:  Yup.

TYSON:  You ok?

ME:  I feel amazing.

TYSON:  Good.  Let's head to the beach.

As we drove along Venice Blvd, I leaned my head against the car window and let my hand dance in the wind rushing by.  I could hear everything so clearly-little children laughing, birds chirping, and I swear I could even hear the flowers blooming.  They all combined to create an orchestra of sounds that tickled my ears.  

We parked the car in the lot and I immediately dashed towards the water.  Putting my feet into the sand felt like a mini-orgasm.  I bent down to touch it and let it run through my finger tips.

ME:  Do you FEEL that? 

Tyson walked up behind me smiling and tousled my hair.

TYSON:  Feels good, huh?

He took my hand and we walked down to the water's edge.  At some point, we must have kicked off our shoes because when I looked down, both of our feet were bare and the cold, salty water was creating a pooling around our toes.  Tyson suddenly scooped me up and chased the tide as it headed back out towards the skyline.  I screamed with delight and begged him not to throw me into the water.   

A few moments later, we were laying on our backs in the dry sand staring up at the sky.  It was streaked with lines of blue, purple, orange, and red.

ME:  Do you think God considers himself a painter?

TYSON:  I don't know if there is a God.

I rolled over onto my side and leaned on his chest.

ME:  You don't know if there's a God?!  How can you look at that and not feel the presence of God?

TYSON:  How do you know God's a guy?  If there is a God, I think she's a woman.  That's the only way to explain natural disasters.  God's on her period and feeling moody for no apparent reason.

ME:  Oh PLEASE!

TYSON:  It's the only explanation for why everything is lunar and cyclical. 

ME:  Do you want to have kids?

TYSON:  How'd we end up here?

ME:  I don't know. It just popped into my head.

TYSON:  I don't know if I'd make a good dad.  I'm really selfish.

ME:  Isn't it natural to want to leave a piece of yourself here?  So when you're gone, there's a part of you that will live on.

TYSON:  This world is really messed up.  I'm not sure I'd want to bring a kid into all of this.

ME:  Well I do.  I think I'd make a great mom.

TYSON:  I was talking to my roommate, Terri about kids and she said if everyone who wanted to have a child adopted one first, there would be no more orphanages or foster kids.

ME:  That's very noble of her.

TYSON:  Most animals just come together to mate, then they move on.

ME:  Are you comparing humans to all the other beasts of nature?

TYSON:  I mean, if you think about it, it makes sense.  Man and woman stay together long enough to create their progeny, then once the child has survived the first few years of life, they go their own separate ways.

ME:  What about love?

TYSON:  What about it?

ME:  Don't you believe that two human beings can connect so deeply that they want to be together forever?

TYSON:  Combined, my parents have been married a total of six times.  My dad has 7 kids by 5 different women.

ME:  He was a rolling stone.

TYSON:  Speaking of rolling, this E has me wanting to move.

I looked back towards the line of bars and clubs on Washington.

ME:  I hear some music coming from that way...

TYSON:  Let's go! 

Sex-capades and Strip clubs

     The power of S-E-X is overwhelming.  After hooking up with Tyson a few weeks ago, we've been engaging in citywide Sex-capades.  We did it in his car. We did outside of a bar.  We did it on the beach. We did it and I screeched. We did it at his mom's house. We did it while I wore a blouse.  And then we did it some more.

We were like 2 teenagers who just couldn't get enough.  Sometimes, we'd go out to eat. Other times, he'd just come over for an afternoon delight and head to the golf course right after.

     We even somehow ended up at a strip club near LAX, drunk out of our minds.  He insisted on buying me a lap dance for the both of us. We went to the semi-private room and I chatted with the stripper through the entire thing.

    "So, how long have you been dancing here?"  "I like your belly button ring."  "Can you say no if you DON'T want to give someone a lap dance?  Like if the guy is old and fat and gross?"  "Did you take a class to learn all this?"


     When we left the strip club, we only made it a few blocks away before we were tearing each other's clothes off.   So Tyson pulled his car off into a Target parking lot and we did it there.  And then,  he surprised me.........

MARCO:  He wants you to do ecstasy with him?

ME:  Yeah.  As we were getting dressed, he asked me if I ever did ecstasy before. I told him, of course I had.  I mean, I was a teenager in the 90's and have been to a rave or two in my day.  And then he suggested we roll together.

MARCO:  Ay dios ME-E-E-O!  What are you going to DO???

ME:  I don't know. I mean, it's been years since I've done it.  But why not.

MARCO:  Chica, it doesn't sound like you two need any ecstasy.  Everything sounds ecstatic enough already!

ME:  It does, doesn't it?  (I blushed.)

MARCO:  Well, let me know how that goes for you.

ME:  How are you and Ryan doing?

MARCO:  Ay, chica.  Ryan is straighter than George Clooney.

ME:  But I thought you said you guys had chemistry.

MARCO:  We do! But I don't think the chemistry is romantic.  He's YOUNG!  I'm a viejo.  He's white. I'm a fiery Latin lover!  I think he may be curious, but the boy is definitely not gay.  And I am not interested in twisting & turning anyone out. I need a MAN.

ME:  Well good for you.

MARCO:  I think he'll be a great friend to me, but lovers we are not.

(I looked down at my watch.)

ME:  Oh Shit, Marco!  I'm supposed to meet Brandon in 5 minutes.

MARCO:  Oooh la la, BRANDON!

ME:  Please. We're just friends.

MARCO:  You say this, but whenever I see the two of you together, I feel magico!

ME:  I think everyone feels magico when they're around Brandon.  It's his biceps. They are marvelous.

MARCO:  Oooooooh!

ME: Stop it. You're making me think dirty thoughts.  Ciao Mi Amor.

MARCO:  Ciao Mi preciosa!

He said sex doesn't feel as good with a condom

      After leaving the BE Fit Magazine offices, I felt like a celebration drink was overdue.  So I called my girlfriend, Veronica who worked as an assistant for a record label in Beverly Hills.

ME:  Vergina!

VERONICA:  I hate it when you call me that.

ME:  I know. But I have good news. Guess who WON'T be standing on the unemployment line anymore?

VERONICA:  Who even stands in unemployment lines?  Isn't all that crap on the internet?

ME:  Uhhhh!  Will you stop asking silly questions and get excited for me please? I GOT A JOB!  Let's go celebrate.  Happy Hour drinks on me.

VERONICA:  Now you're getting my Vergina wet.  Where shall I meet you?

ME:  Rodeo Drive baby!

VERONICA:  What?

ME:  I've always wanted to say that… get it?  Pretty Woman?  Kit?

                            SILENCE.

ME:  Nevermind.  Just meet me at Villa Blanca.

     Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up to Villa Blanca and promptly pulled away.  $25 for valet parking!?  Were they kidding?  I mean-Mama got a new job, but she hasn't gotten her first paycheck yet.  I found street parking and hoofed it to the entrance of the swanky Mediterranean restaurant just in time to meet Veronica.

ME:  Hey lovely.

VERONICA:  Oh, please!  I just got my period and I feel like a bloated cat in heat.

ME:  Horny period?  That happens to me too. 

VERONICA:  Is it possible for a woman to get blue balls?

I laughed as the hostess led us to our table on the front patio. 

ME:  I think a woman can get blue lips, but not so sure about the blue balls.

VERONICA: Well in that case, my lips were so blue last night they were black.

ME:  What happened?!

VERONICA:  So I went out on a third date with Eric.

ME:  You're still seeing him?  I thought you said he was too short for you.

VERONICA:  Girl-I've changed my mind.  I've decided I like them short, white and whipped just like Eric.  And he's really been blowing my skirt up.

ME:  What kind of kinky shit are the two of you into?  What is he blowing up your skirt for?

VERONICA:  Gia, that means he gets the "Vergina" moist.  He blows up my skirt!

ME: Oh, ok. Got it. Go on.

(Veronica is from Trinidad & I'm constantly confused by her "Island Speak.")

VERONICA:  So I go back to his place after our date for a nightcap.  And things start getting all hot.  Next thing you know, I'm naked and he's naked.  And of course, I ask him where the condom is at.

ME:  And?

VERONICA:  And he says, he doesn't like them because it doesn't feel as good with a condom.

ME:  Is he serious?! What are we, in 10th grade? 

VERONICA:  I know!

ME:  What did you say?

VERONICA:  I told him what feels even LESS good is not having sex at all.

ME:  Then what?  Did he tell you he was allergic to condoms too?

VERONICA:  Nope. Then he said he didn't have any.

ME:  How convenient.  Then he asked to just put the tip in, right?

VERONICA:  I think he thought about it.  But I didn't give him the chance.  I put my clothes back on this hot body and marched myself to my car.

ME:  Good for you!

VERONICA:  I've had one too many slip ups, slip offs, and period no-shows to risk another one with him.  And we're not exclusive.  I don't know what other whore he's sticking it in.  My new rule is ALWAYS make him wear a condom.

 ME:  Speaking of condoms, I think my new boss may need one for his eyes?

VERONICA:  Oh, wow!  Already?  Didn't you just start working there?

ME:  Yes! But when he looks at me, he does that thing with his eyes that makes me feel like I'm wearing lingerie.  And not La Perla or Intenzioni, but Fredericks or TRASHY lingerie.

VERONICA:  Yuck!

ME:  Thank God I get to work from home.

VERONICA:  What's the gig exactly?

ME:  I'm writing for this online magazine called BE Fit and the owner of the company is this ex-Mr. Olympia.  He's tall with this creamy milk chocolate skin.  And he looks like he could still bench press a Ford truck.

VERONICA:  Ooooh.

ME:  But he's married. I definitely saw a ring. And I saw pictures of his kids in his office.  I don't know…maybe it's just me.  Maybe I'm being overly sensitive.  He's probably not even thinking about me in that way.

VERONICA:  Honey, look at you. I'M thinking about you in that way.

ME:  Veronica you're crazy.

VERONICA:  But so what?  He wants to bang your back out.  Big deal.  How many executives do you think hire someone because of the slight possibility of seeing their nipsy russels.

ME:  Veronica! He hired me because I'm a great writer!!

VERONICA:  Of course you are. And you've also got a sweet ass.  You just have to set your boundaries with him and everything will be fine.

ME:  Okay. You're right.  Where is our waitress?

TEXT THIS!

Single men, take note. I'm about to spit some knowledge that will increase your chances of getting a woman to go out on a date with you, which, in turn, will raise your chances of getting laid. Are you ready? STOP TEXTING!!! Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. But sometimes a woman's got to get loud for a man to really get it.

A few weeks ago, I attended a Christmas party for my friend's production company. An open bar and some top quality sushi led to a few conversations with some eligible bachelors. One particular blue eyed, muscular gentleman seemed to take quite an interest in this unemployed writer. We chatted throughout the night, danced to some reggae and snapped a few photos with my new iPhone. After messaging the pics to my Christmas party paramour, he sprang to his car when his boys gave a whistle. And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But he did text me a few hours later inviting me to join him for a late night meal with his friends at a local diner. I promptly declined. My girlfriend had driven us and was anxious to get home to her man. But Mr. Muscles was sweet enough to text me again later in the evening to make sure I got home ok. AND he invited me out for a dancing date later that week. I accepted and we continued the casual texting throughout the week.

As Thursday (a.k.a. First Date Night) approached, I became a little anxious that he had not actually called me on the phone to check in, chat, and plan our evening. And as it turned out, I had a writing workshop Thursday evening that I knew would probably run pretty late into the night. So when he texted me Wednesday evening, I informed him of my scheduling snafu. His immediate text response?
"That's okay. I was thinking of inviting the crew out anyway."

The CREW?! Who was The Crew? I didn't know any fucking crew! Did he mean his friends?? Who invites their friends out on a first date without running it by someone? Red flag #1.

I immediately texted back my displeasure....
"Really? I thought it was just going to be me and you on our date?"

He responded...
"Yeah we can def do one on one. I just gotta figure out what to do with myself until 10 when your class ends."

And there was red flag #2 waving in my face. As far as I'm concerned, a 41 year-old man should not have a problem occupying himself until 10pm. And if he can't, it isn't my concern. Bitchy? Maybe. But I'm from Miami and we keeps it real!

I could feel myself becoming very annoyed over this text conversation, so I decided to end it with my final text.....

"Ok. Well I'll let you think about it. Call me in the morning so we can talk."

But the next morning brought no phone call from Mr. Blue Eyes. Red flag #3. In fact, it wasn't until 4pm on First Date Night that he finally texted (NOT called me).....

"Sup mama?"

Really? Did he really think we were on the 'Sup mama' level already?
I quickly let him know that I had expected a phone call in the morning. In fact, I prefer to speak to a person a few times on the phone before going out with a relative stranger. So a date tonight was not going to happen. He apologized for not calling and gave me some excuses about being busy in the morning and going to the gym. Typical muscle Head excuse. But in my mind, he'd already been dismissed. Honestly, if he didn't have the time or inclination to pick up the phone to chat with me, then I certainly didn't have the time to drive 25 minutes to meet him for a date.

So the red flags can stop waving. I see ya.

Second Chances.....(continued)

I just got off of the phone with Rodrigo. After ten minutes of breathing into a paper bag, I have regained my composure enough to sit down and decide if I'm going to see him.

It turns out he's going through a divorce with Jana. They've been separated now for a few months. He's pretty emotional about the whole thing. Not like, crying on the phone emotional. But definitely still in the processing stage. He said he's been spending alot of time alone thinking about what went wrong. They grew apart and want completely different things out of life. The marriage finally ended after 2 years of arguing. They don't have any children together. The two kids in the photo with him are his nephews.

Before we hung up, he invited me to come down to San Diego for his birthday this weekend. A few of his closest friends are flying in to cheer him up. They'll be hanging out at a bar in PB, shooting some pool and having drinks.....

I'm not sure if I should go. Of course, I'd love to see him, but the whole divorce thing kind of makes me feel weird. We'll see.......

At Least I Showered Today....

Even a confidant, beautiful, avant garde goddess has a bad day from time to time. A day where you deserve a standing ovation for just making it out of bed and into the shower. Today was one of those days.

I am an unemployed writer. There. I said it. And yes-it hurt. I finished my last project a month ago. I did re-writes on a trashy romance novel that's being adapted into a screenplay. Oddly enough-I have no romance in my life right now. Although my existence has been playing out like a bad romcom...Just this week, one of my girlfriends, Leslie, really pissed me off. She is an out of work executive assistant who's been living off of her boyfriend, Rick for the past year and a half. She's funny. Smart. Slightly overweight, which one wouldn't realize, except she points it out to people. Leslie is 98% bubbly spirit and about 2% ambition. She has almost no drive when it comes to her career. In fact, Leslie's shown no real initiative or desire to return to the work force. Leslie is not a writer. She's never expressed any interest, talent or dreams of writing. And three days ago, she called to tell me she got a new job. As a writer. Even worse. She's a travel writer. Yup. She stole MY dream job. She'll be writing stories for "The Voyager's Journal", an online magazine that I've submitted my work to multiple times. And the title of her first article?
"Up, up, and Away...Traveling First Class for the First Time"

I wanted to throw my phone at the wall when she told me that. First-for the corny title and second because she STOLE MY JOB. But I kept my cool and set down my cell. Lord knows I don't have the cash for a replacement iPhone. And instead of expressing my jealous outrage and indignation at how God could allow such a travesty to happen - I congratulated her and told her my kitchen was on fire and I'd have to call her later. Obviously, Leslie didn't take the hint, because she called me again last night to tell me Rick had proposed. FANTASTIC! Throw another nail in the coffin of my youth.

Don't get me wrong. I am happy for Leslie. It's just kind of hard to jump up and down with her as she celebrates her amazing new career and engagement. While I sit at home alone, 31 years old, out of work, single, and with no discernible dating prospects on the horizon. Leslie pretty much has the life I'd imagined for myself at 31.

So I allowed myself to mope for 2 hours today. I layed there in bed and let the envy and jealousy to wash over me. I imagined the beautiful house that I'd buy if I was bringing home Leslie's paycheck. The wedding dress that I'd wear if I were getting married "next September 8th at the Ritz Carlton in Marina del Rey". I thought about how I'd graciously thank all of my guests and look surprised when my muscular new husband scooped me up and carried me out to the white Rolls Royce waiting to take us to the Santa Monica airport to catch a private jet to our honeymoon in Bali. I'd toss my bouquet over my shoulder as an after thought while we sped off. And upon our return to the States, I'd write an article about the wonders of traveling through Southeast Asia with your best friend, husband and partner. And of course, I'd get nominated for a Lowell Thomas Award and I'd receive a Solas Award nomination.

And then, at 11:45am, I called THAT'S A WRAP! on my moping session. I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I stared into the mirror and faced my true reality. As I turned on the water and the mirror began to steam, I thought to myself-Hey, at least I showered today.