Moving out of the darkness into the light

Depression cripples you… it’s like this dark secret you hide deep within, but it’s always there in the shadows lurking and pulling you back with a few whispers… “You’re worthless… you’ll never amount to anything… come back inside this shell with me… no one cares for you out there…you’re all alone!”

It always appears like a fog creeping in overnight and there is a crow making noise reminding you that you belong with them in the darkness… far from the light. The emptiness inside your soul, bones, mind and heart creates pools of tears at the drop of a hat to slide down your face…without notice, you’re pulled back into the abyss of familiarity that you once climbed far away from.

Yes…. I have a history of depression or just being sad…anxiety. Maybe it’s because we moved around so much in my childhood and I was always forced to reinvent myself, new friends, new life, and all during my high school years.

I remember my earliest memories in my early teens and my wanting to get lost in a sea of sleep. I just couldn’t get myself out of the feeling of melancholy and sadness that would overcome me like shackles…I carried the weight with me for years. Who knew then, that this would be a lifelong battle with periods of desperation and times that were so low, it’s miraculous that you made it out alive.

Well, my old nemesis that is Depression has shown its ugly head again over the past few years.

When things were not going well in my life, financial issues, when my apartment caught fire, or the ceiling caved in and I had to move quickly, or the time that I lost my love, or I was in so much pain that I ended up needing surgery on my spine…the other time I lost my love, plus the struggle of recovery to the time that I lost my job with no severance and lost my insurance 60 days post surgery. I’ve lost so much over the past few years…my house, jobs, pets, loves and have literally had to abandon things and walk away just enough to survive the flames called my life without getting burned up myself.

My challenges with depression have been a lifelong struggle. They go in waves, but lately and especially this year, it’s been severe with every hurdle, every path that I take is a journey on survival.

This was also why I went dark over the past few years and stopped writing… hiding the words and avoiding the voice inside me begging to come out.

There was a time that I wished that I would be able to fall asleep and wake up with all of this washed away. Then there are other times that would hold onto this like a long lost friend.

Lately, everything is better when it’s time to go to bed…I hate waking up and struggling with my plans for the day, reading my emails, applying for jobs, scheduling interviews, then seeing my bank account and knowing my best bet is to stay in bed.

My wish is to regain myself in 2018, get back to my core being, better health, heal my body, listen more, help more, be kinder, better, go to yoga more, date more, explore more, Love more and travel more. Let go of the things that are not serving me well and be more of a minimalist in some ways. Life isn’t about things…it about the moments.

Every day is a struggle, people are fighting silent battles all around you and in the end, try to be kind and be grateful for the people in your life that are there to help.

When you’re at you are feeling close to rock bottom, you’ll find out who your true support system is. These are The keepers… friends and family. Without them right now, I would be lost. I’m at my most vulnerable and am grateful every day that they haven’t given up on me yet.

I am so thankful that I have my family and friends in my life. With the holiday season upon us, they’re bringing in the light to my life right now.

Xx

Tis’ the season…

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T’was the weekend before Christmas and all through the studio apartment….the only creature stirring was my cat Luxe…. haha. Not really, he’s passed out on the bed…as I type away with a glass of wine in front of my Christmas tree.

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Sorry for my delayed posting, but with the holidays approaching quickly, my heavy interviewing schedule and trying to keep up with my friends, family, gift shopping and shipping…my world has been in overdrive…and as the end of the year 2013 nears… yes, there was a resurfacing in my life of a person that I thought that I once loved or possibly still do. Jury is still out on this one.

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I’ve debated on writing about him and due to my current feelings for him, and for reasons that I cannot understand, and mostly out of respect; determined that he needs to remain in the vault for now. Although, the tales are quite entertaining and would make most laugh; they need to be held tightly until I am capable of understanding them myself.

So, with this, I wish all of you a Happy Holiday Season… as I will be writing again soon enough, but taking a needed break over the holidays.

Thank you again for the follow’s and for all of your support. I look forward to sharing more of my life stories with you soon enough.

 

All the best-

Justagirlinnyc

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Free Drinks…What’s not to like?!?

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So, Friday comes around, and I invite a friend to join us at the party in Chelsea. The night seems simple enough, catch taxi, pick up friend, and get to Art Studio in Chelsea to a magazine party. Typical Friday night in New York City, right?

Whilst we were on our trek in the taxi, we get stuck in stand still traffic on 5th Avenue around Rockefeller Center and opt to get out and take a subway downtown. At some point, my phone rings while on the Subway and it’s my friends at the party telling me that “They’re leaving because there is a huge line and its bullshit!” Then, the call drops and I haven’t a clue where they are heading…so, we decide to go on to the party to meet them or wait to get above ground to call. As we’re walking in the freezing temperatures to the event, we get to the event and there is a massive line to get in.

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My friend sends me a text to come to the backstage and come to the seats (bypass the line).  At this point, I’m in no mood because I’m sober, starving and this place is a shit show full of a people standing in line for something.

After a long stretch of exhausting texts, my friend comes to the line to retrieve us to enter the party….we bypass the line, gate keeper, walk through a maze of hallways into a strange room, where there are half-naked men/some women changing (presume they are model’s). I spy one guy with his hands down his knickers playing with his balls and wondering, “What in the hell kind of party is this?”

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There are some people drinking, and then I realize that we are in the back stage area and it is separated by a sheet to the fashion stage (front).  We walk through the sheet and are seated to the right front row seats for the show that is about to start.

Imagine an extremely hot and overcrowded room and there are people all around standing; photographers to the left waiting for the fashion show to begin.  It’s hotter than hell in this tiny room…I’m pulling off my huge coat, and presume that I look like I’ve just worked out with the amount of sweat rolling down my back.

I am completely mesmerized by the people watching here tonight, there is a cross dresser in a strange dress, makeup melting with the high heat and the Adams apple and goatee are clear giveaways.

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Then, I’m caught staring across at a woman in a moo moo type dress with zebra’s stitched in the dress (What in the hell kind of outfit is this?) and she is wearing some strange shoe hybrid that is a blend of a high-top sneaker and wedge. Around this same time, I catch another woman giving me the stink eye or possibly, that is just the way she look’s normally, and she is wearing a huge necklace resembling medium sized bowling balls around her neck and I’m wondering how much it weighs…as it is awful.

I’m thinking to myself and by this time, and probably saying it out loud, “Why am I Sober? Where are the free drinks? ” At some point, I know that I was thinking that this is why flasks were invented. I was definitely complaining about the fact that I was too sober to be in the venue with this show and I was trying to hold back my laughter as there were serious fashion people taking photos and among us waiting to see this new line.

I’m sitting in a chair and the show begins with a brief show with clothed models…then, they announce that we are preparing for the second show to begin in 5 minutes. There were random men walking about in their underwear.

Then the lights are lowered and within minutes and low and behold, there is a cock in my face. I am staring at men modeling briefs as they walk by me…his junk is in my exact line of vision, approximately a few feet from my face, and I am asking myself, “How funny is this? Wait, is that a tattoo on this guy, or is he wearing a tiger tooth?”

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I’m trying to do anything that I can, not to laugh.

Yes, you are thinking Marky Mark (Mark Wahlberg) wearing boxer briefs in the Calvin Klein ad, aren’t you? Well, if that were the case, I would be smiling and content. However, imagine a dirty version of juveniles, covered with tattoos, and wearing sneakers and jungle themed jewelry. Hahaha… some of my friends would love that image, I imagine.

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Then, even in the hottest venue I realize, ”Hold On….I’m going to take photo’s as no one would believe this is how I spent my evening.”

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I know that you’re wondering… how did I end up here? Oh yeah…

 

The Email:

Hey guys,

Let’s go to this party on Friday! What’s not to like? Free drinks and all…All you need to do is send a confirmation message with your names.

See you Friday!

-X

(No mention of men in underwear)

Me:

Sounds Great!! I’ll touch base on Friday and see you there!

-H

In looking back at this invitation, there is no mention of underwear clad young men traipsing about showing off their manhood, but it was a great night with friends and every time I think about it, I laugh.

I finally got that drink after we finally left this place, but managed to be home and in bed by midnight with a great story; however, not before sending cock shots of my evening to my friends to share the love. 🙂

This event was a complete shotshow

Chinatown & The Happy Ending…

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I should have known this was going to be a strange day….any day in New York City can turn into an adventure quickly…New York City is a bitch, but I love it.

As I stand waiting on the platform, I notice the train schedule time is not changing frequently, it’s actually saying 2 minutes, but it’s now been 5 minutes and the time is now going up. There is a strange amount of traffic walking into the subway platform, which is a bit concerning to see it filling up so fast, with no relief of a train…meanwhile, we hear a muffled message about local trains being delayed downtown. This is when simultaneously, two older men, one to my left and one to my right start screaming obscenities about the costs of the subway and the “God Damned Delay’s!! We pay money for this shitty service!” one screamed, while the other screamed, “God Damn It! I got delayed 3 times yesterday on the fucking bus!! What the hell is wrong with the MTA!?!?” and he throws his paper into the subway tracks. Note to self, do not sit next to these men.

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Meanwhile, I am monitoring the platform fill up more and more and wait patiently for the train.  It finally arrives and to my surprise, it’s not a normal 6 train with the blue newer seats…it’s one of the older subways that runs on the west side with the brown panels and orange and yellow seating, no electronic messaging or notification of the times, delays, or next stops…which means that the speaker system is not the best either. I think, “Shit, what in the hell am I doing on this train!?”

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As we finally get moving, the conductor tells us that we are now running express from 42nd to Brooklyn Bridge due to an accident at 33rd. Then, we get another message as we are being held again that there is now “No Service below 42nd on the 4, 5, or 6 trains and the train is being re-routed for uptown when we get to Grand Central!” WTF! I think to myself, “Damn…it must be a jumper”…and exit at Grand Central. I call my friend that I am meeting for lunch and tell her I’m delayed and walking there…meet me in 30 minutes, as I have to walk there.

I walk west across Bryant Park to head south to Eataly to meet my friend for lunch, when I finally make it there, this place is so fucking crowded with tourists and she is nowhere in sight. I text her and she says that, “she cannot talk now, but will call/text soon?!” WTF?!  Today has been a complete shit show…I need a drink.

When she arrives, we have a bit of a wait for the table, then I order my food with a huge glass of wine, then another.

At this point, I’m being grilled by her on the trade secrets of dating in the United States, well specifically in New York City, as she is from the Philippines.

I’m like, “well… It’s difficult to meet people at our age, let alone date.” At this point in my life, I settle for a good book, a hot bath and a bottle of wine most weekends.  However, she knows that I have been actively dating and have been in relationships, as the 2 times that we have both met and gone out, I have been involved with men. Yes, the only 2 men that I have been with in over a year happened to be timed right around the same time that she has been visiting in the New York City area.

She asks way too many questions. At some point, I tell her this. As she asks me more questions, I am reminded of needing another glass of wine. Yes, if they could pour the entire damned bottle in my glass, I’d be happy at this point.

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The constant grilling of questions is reminding me of an interview and quite exhausting. Especially, when I cannot seem to figure out the “code to dating in NYC, let alone in America.”

I have been really good at being single most of my adult life. I could be voted off the island for this, I presume. One of my guy friends, recently told me that he needed to start lying to people about being “divorced” now, as people look at him funny because he’s in his 40’s and has never been married, let alone engaged. It’s sad because I can definitely relate to his dilemma, as I’m in the same category.

After lunch, we walk down the Highline, through the West Village, The Village, and Soho and to Chinatown, where she wants to buy me a Bubble tea and the plan is for us to get cheap massages. After walking 8-10 miles today…

I think to myself…”A massage does sound nice.” In my mind, I’m thinking spa…this is where that phrase, “Little did you know” comes into play. Let the fun begin.

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We walk down Canal Street, and then we wind through the back alleys of Chinatown that I have never explored before. Imagine a fucked up maze of tiny streets with bright neon signs for massage parlors that are lit up and you know, they don’t look very clean, nor do they look very legitimate. My inner American girl that grew up in a middle class, southern/midwest family is screaming, “What the hell are you doing here!?! GO HOME!” However, she’s leading us deeper into the evasive maze and says that she always goes here when she is in New York. So, I let her lead the way.

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As we wind through the streets, we pass many massage parlors, nail salons, hair salons and etc. all on the left side of the narrow street.

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Then, we go into the smallest, thinnest store front with some strange writing on the wall and a fake rose bush on a table to the left of the hallway with a bright massage menu that I glimpse at as my friend is barking commands to the man and ladies in waiting area, that are greeting us as we walk in. The people that work here do not speak much English; they speak some words, but nod a lot; they smile and bow.

My friend seems to raise her voice louder to them acting like it makes them understand her more, since her voice is raised…this reminds me of something my mother would do and I laugh to myself.

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The girls that work here are dressed in a strange “dirty” girl kind of looking way, maybe it’s to entertain the big, older gentleman that I just saw dive into one of the stalls with a younger girl for a “massage”.

The area that you walk in has some strange pleather sofa’s to the right, then you walk through a doorway with beads, yeah beads like the 70’s draping down to a darker area with red lighting and there are strange curtains hanging up on both sides of the room separating the massage tables, I guess.

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They point me to one on the right. Mind you, it’s fucking freezing outside, so I have got a huge puffy coat, pants, sweaters, boots and etc. on and have a huge bubble tea in my hand. I walk beyond the curtain to undress and the space is obviously where they store crap, as the massage table is pushed up at the end against a small sofa with big bags all over it and shit everywhere. The massage table is so close to the curtain, that my legs hang out of it into the middle of the walkway and hands keep coming through the curtain as I undress. I place my belongings at the end of the massage table on the sofa with the other junk. The area around the table is about 6-12 inches from the wall/curtains on all sides. I finally get down to my panties and think, “Damn, whoever is massaging me must be in the Circus, as they’re going to have to trapeze into this tiny area and hang on strings to get around me to massage me! What in the hell did I agree to?!?”

Then, as I lay there practically naked, someone comes into the area around the sheet and for all that I know, my arse is possibly able to be viewed by anyone in the walk way. I’m trying to relax enough to enjoy a $40 hour full body massage.  Someone starts rubbing my back and maneuvering around the table…I’m a ball of pins & needles and I cannot relax.

In my mind, I’m thinking…”What the fuck am I doing here!? Only $40? Am I still in New York? This place is scaring the crap out of me…are these people legal? Are they slave labor? Is that grunting that I’m hearing in the other stall? For fucks sake, what have I agreed to?!”

Then, my concentration is broken by my friend yelling in the opposite stall that she needs someone new. Well, that meant that the person that she didn’t want was then exchanged with the person that I had at present, so they swapped.

Then, I get a woman…the only reason that I knew this is because she has her hair down and keeps draping it over my back as she rubs my shoulders and at some point, she directs me in a movement.Wait a minute, is there a monkey in here, someone just hoisted themselves on the table with me! What in the hell just happened?

Meanwhile, a man interrupts the massage through the curtains to ask me, “HOW LONG YOU NEED ONE HOUR?”  I reply, “Sure, whatever my friend has agreed to!” This was a strange reply that they did not understand, so they keep sending people over to ask in different ways, so I finally reply, “Yes. One Hour!” What am I doing here?

I’m being rubbed, groped, pushed and pulled all over my body and she is pulling down my panties and accidentally touching me in areas that she should not be that close to, so I keep shifting by body around the table and moving my head. Let’s just be clear, I am not here for any happy ending folks, nor do I care to get massaged in my nether region by a chick for cash. What in the hell is going on here?

After my massage is finally finished, I am shuffled out to the seating area on the pleather sofas with the strange Chinese woman that gave me the massage.She keeps showing me her hand and making a face. Apparently, she has been doing so many massages that she has injured her hand and She tells me, “You pay my boss! You pay my boss!” and then goes, “You tip me?!”

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So, I hand her a $20, and she hides it after looking around in both directions, then I sit and check my phone, foursquare, face book and wait for my friend to return and finish while listening to strange music on the sofa with this woman, while she puts on makeup and primps for the next person to enter the parlor.

As I sit there, I wonder about the big man that I saw going behind the curtain with the other young girl when we walked in, what in the hell kind of service is he getting? As, I started after and had an hour massage and I’ve been sitting here over 30 minutes now… Is this place a brothel too? Is he getting a happy ending? Gross.

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Once my friend finally comes out, she doesn’t stop there with the body massage, she has the owner giving her a 10 minute foot massage and her feet are on an ottoman, as he gets on his knees in front of her rubbing. She tells him that I need one and tells me that it’s included, I opt out, as it seems completely demeaning at this point, plus I’m ready to get the hell out of this place in fear that some authority will come in and bust it up at any moment.  I make an excuse, “that I don’t want to take off my boots again.”

After her massage, we walk through the streets and wind back to the main streets and get back to Mott Street to modern day civilization. This is when we determine that we should get some food for dinner.

We see people standing in line for dumplings and dim sum and opt for another szechuan restaurant that looks pretty popular. Again, I need to explain that I am American, now this means that I’m somewhat adventurous, but only to an extent and fish is a touchy food item for me. I love sushi, love sashimi and I love meat, but mine comes in pretty pieces, in packages in the store and etc. I think you understand.

My friend keeps asking about sharing food and I tell her that I’ll just order something, as I’m funny about eating fish. I look at the menu and it’s huge…opt for spring roll’s, something similar to Kung Pao Chicken and she orders some fish dish and other dishes.  She refers to me as such an “American”, and I think to myself, “Why yes, I am.” And I tell her about the time that someone tried slipping me some catfish to eat 20 years earlier and how upset that I was.

The spring rolls come, Dumplings come, I eat them too, then the Kung Pao dish, and I’m eating some green beans that she has ordered to share and it’s a huge plate. At this time, I have no idea what is about to happen. This little waiter comes with a HUGE platter with a WHOLE FISH ON IT and puts it in front of me, in between the two of us. Then, she looks at me and says, “Dig In!”

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My face must have said it all…the waiter cut it in the middle exposing the bones everywhere and leaves it. She asked for Soy Sauce and rips into the fish like she’s never eaten before.

First thing she eats is the entire head, face, eyes and all with soy sauce, as I watch wondering about the bones, eyes and lips…then, eats the fins and explains that in Asia, this would be something that is fought over first in a meal.

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Meanwhile, she is asking me if I want some. I reiterate that I’m funny about certain foods…fish, being one of them and the fact that she just ate the entire face off the fish…it’s messing with my appetite. You see, I’ve realized that American’s, or at the least, this one, we do not like to eat things that look back at us on the plate. I explain this to her as well, then as she goes back into the banter of asking questions about dating American & men in New York City while devouring the remainder of the fish. I am thinking to myself, I wonder if any of the men that I know and have dated would react well to someone eating a whole fish in front of them, let alone the head first. After we are finished, she had the server package up the remaining food, both the fish and the food that I had not eaten to take home with her.

This evening was good, but a very strange adventure in New York City…. When I got home, I seriously scrubbed my entire body clean in the shower to ensure that I was clean before getting into my bed for the night.

As I’m dying for another massage, I’m still not tempted to return to this land of the happy ending.

Bad Choices…always make Good Stories…

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I recently found myself entering a Sex Club or Sex Party in New York City.  This is not a typical Saturday night for me. No, I’m not a Swinger. I’ve never had a threesome; I’m actually extremely loyal and very committed and monogamous when I’m involved with someone. I’m not addicted to sex and I don’t watch porn. However, I’m no prude, I have always been adventurous in a normal way, but nothing could be classified as strange or close to that category.

You see, I met up with a friend, a guy that I dated briefly- turned just friend and after we had a few glasses of wine, he talked me into going to another bar with him. He knew me all too well and knew that I’d be open to an adventure, so he asked me earlier in the week if I’d go to a party with him, and then it turned into a “Couples Party”, then “Swinger club”, after telling him that I was not comfortable going earlier in the day, we ended up just meeting for some drinks and catching up. After a few drinks and sharing our photos and stories of the past year with one another, he told me about the club that he was talking about and that he’d been there before with an ex and it was “interesting people watching and a good story”. So, being the adventurous one that I am, we took a walk in search of a bar/party. After walking around midtown, we walk by a building and as we spied some rather suspicious/sketchy people entering into the building and getting in the elevator, he tells me that it’s the place. This is Swingers Bar that he told me about. The place is BYOB, so we go get a six pack of beer and I already lay down the rules that I am under no circumstances getting naked or walking about in my lingerie in front of people.. He tells me that I can wear a robe, if we get that far; however, we will just hang out in the bar area first to “people watch”, meet a few others and if we are comfortable…then, “go with it, but only if I’m comfortable.” otherwise, we just have some beers in the bar area and leave.

This is where the adventure begins…or the lack there of one.

It’s in the low 40’s temperature wise and I am freezing usually, but while we walk, I am sweating monkey balls in anticipation for the evening, plus I’m not convinced that this is something that I’m game to experience right now, I’m not feeling too sexy…I have some weight to lose (after steroids in spinal injections and etc) and my confidence is not what it once was. So we walk to the closest deli, we debate on the brand of beer that we’re buying and he pays for it. I make small talk with the guys behind the counter selling some herbal liquid ginger concoctions displayed all over the counter…to help with the nervous energy that I’ve got at present in the circumstances ahead.

When you move to New York City, people tell you about the terrors of apartment hunting, weather, cost of living, people and etc., but no one prepares you for surviving a Sex Party, which is not uncommon here. There are all varieties of these, some like the movie’s that you’re imagining to lower level Sex Club’s that cost a couple $100-1000+ entry and they have buffets, BYOB, different lounge areas, dance floors, acts, locker rooms, sex room’s where all must be naked and or in lingerie and the men get to wear robe’s… you get the picture. No single men allowed, single women are and couples. The men like watching “girl on girl” action, or in some of these clubs the couples actually go off together to make out, fuck, suck or heavy touching in the corners…I hear that some parties couples do swing and swap partners as well.

So, we have the six pack of beer and walk towards the place and have to walk through a crowd of people waiting to get into a club for bridal parties and etc. As we enter the building, I’m nervous…he’s leading. We get into the elevator and I’m nervous as all hell, but we go to the floor that the club is on. However, we are talking about the other names of the clubs in the building, one being “E E Club” and we are speculating what that could be as well. Then, the elevator doors open and my friend is quite tall; he’s over 6 ft and his head is almost hitting the ceiling. The doors open to a 1980’s décor and there are several naked mannequins draped in beads with a few disco ball’s hanging and weird lighting and Christmas type lights on the backdrop, then a door with a buzzer. We enter and behind the counter is a woman…. There are security cameras as well watching the elevator. Lovely.

I stand back and let my friend lead the way and do all of the talking. First we are greeted, the woman asks if we are member’s and tells us it’s a private party this evening and unfortunately, we cannot come in tonight, but urges us to come back the following week. She tells us that Friday’s are especially open, since most have private events on Saturdays. Meanwhile, I’m standing a few feet behind him and taking in the scenery and experience.  There are signs on the counter that say,” No jeans, no tennis shoes and etc.”, which is interesting as basically, since the ultimate goal here is to remove the clothes that you come in anyways, so what does that matter?

Since they have a private event, It offers me some serious relief as I’m realizing that even with the open mind that I have, this is not the time/night for this to be experienced. As my partner in crime continues speaking with the woman, I’m watching people come out of the elevator to be greeted by a man. The man, who obviously works there or is the host for the party looks at me in a most devious manner up and down and smiles at me like a Cheshire cat. He’s greeting couples of all sorts most that are toting bags for changing clothes, I’m guessing and imagine Euro trash looking, or older couples, an older man, younger woman very much throwback’s from a different time, but you get the point. As we walk out to leave and catch the elevator, another couple steps into the lobby from the elevator and we notice two men in leather in the elevator waiting. This is when I ask, “Hey, do you know what the E E Club is?” and the reply is, “Umm… No, I don’t”; however, that was obviously where they were heading. This is funnier because it’s 11pm on a Saturday evening…haha.

After the adventure, we catch a taxi back to my place, drink the beer and have a very PG rated evening on my sofa watching a movie, then he passed out on the sofa and I, was alone in my bed, well…with my cat.  🙂

The next morning, I looked up the “E E Club” and it was a sex club for gay men only…bath house of sorts and we both had a good laugh before he left for home and we were making sly jokes about the whole experience and evening.

Bad Choices…always make for Good Stories…

What good memories

Unrequited love…the cruelest version of love there is.

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Unrequited love

Web definitions

Unrequited love or one-sided love is love that is not openly reciprocated or understood as such. The beloved may or may not be aware of the admirer’s deep and strong romantic affections. The Merriam Webster Online Dictionary defines unrequited as “not reciprocated or returned in kind. …

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unrequited_love

I’ve been the victim of this feeling and honestly can recall during these times in my life that they were some of the worst holidays that I’ve ever had, not to mention years.

Shakespeare said that, “Journeys end in lovers meeting”…. I have yet to experience this, but he also said, “Love is blind.” This, I have known all too well.

Love is something that we all are in search of throughout this journey in life; it’s something we are always wanting. We seek out love within our family’s, our friends, and our pet’s, in our work, through our experiences and such. Life is not such, but you see, I’ve willingly given myself in love to some men and it’s only to have been unrequited… In looking back, these were the worst Christmas’s, birthdays, and holidays and years at times, as I was always trying to see the value in the moments that were met with these lover’s that I had. You see, I was lying to myself about what the situation truly was and I imagined that what they had told me in our times together, were not only that of value, but of honestly and truth.  They did not love me back and in all honesty, looking back. I don’t know if I truly loved them either. I was in love with the idea of being in love. I spent many New Year’s Eve’s alone for years, only to bring in the New Year with a constant drink in hand and a cruel hangover in an empty bed.

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This is definitely a new holiday season and when I wonder what is missing, it’s not that I live thousands of miles from my family, but it’s that I’m not a victim of unrequited love at present, not even a love interest… I don’t have love in my heart right now for anyone,  but I’m completely open to finding love again, but only if it’s the passionate, fall in love, butterflies in my stomach, hand holding, kissing and walking around with a grin ear to ear kind of love. Wish me luck and follow me on my journey.

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What is this about? Was I branded?

branded

Why would a man give you a hicky … let alone several when we’re in our early 40’s? Am I missing something?

I feel like I’m 15 years old, so I went out with a man and had the greatest time, date was wonderful, and we had infectious conversations and could barely keep our hands to ourselves all night long. He kissed me so passionately that I felt like I haven’t been touched in so many years…I needed to be kissed hard, and he was definitely the answer. Our night began because we’d met several years ago and due to poor timing, things never worked out….we kept in touch, but always had something else going on and were never able to reconnect. However this time, we did meet.

The evening was everything amazing that I could’ve asked for, and I truly recall him grabbing me and telling me several times how happy that he was to see me… and holding me close as we talked and he kept making plans to do things in the future with me. Now, this seems to be a common trait for men in my life… they always make future plans when in the midst of evenings, dates with me….

Everything was amazing, with the exception that I awoke with multiple hickies on me…at 41 years old?!? What is this about? Was I branded?

Dear Past, Thank you for all of the lessons…

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If I were to write myself a letter, it would begin with…

Dear Past, Thank you for all of the lessons.  Dear Future, I’m now ready!!!

My life has been similar to that of Alice in Wonderland at times…however, I never fell down a hole literally, but I’ve been on an adventure in search of my path, since I can remember. I have been in search of finding myself, traveling the world, friends, new jobs, and for love.

I’ve always had a saying…

New Life, New Land, New Love & New Beginnings

I believe that after chasing my dreams and finding myself in my travels, career and encounters that I’m finally open to finding love…

Let the adventures begin…

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If it weren’t for the bad, we wouldn’t know the good.

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