So easy

I should be ashamed of myself. It's really ridiculously easy to make me happy. All it takes is sex. And good food. And exercise. I really have no excuse for staying in the doldrums for any period of time, not when all I have to do to get out of them is eat well, walk more, and fuck a lot.

I met this guy named Frank last night. I'd actually met him before, at the same place (Baileys, of course), and he'd given me his contact info after a long conversation. But I never contacted him, and eventually lost his info. I'd see him there every now and then, but I was generally there with someone else and not really available for chatting.

But last night I was alone, drinking a lovely strong ale, and reading a book. He took the opportunity to sit down at the chair in front of me after engaging me in conversation up at the bar, and we had a lovely chat for about an hour. He's a food nerd, very passionate about flavor and ingredients. I love talking to people about food. I'd been reading food blogs all day, and was feeling inspired and happy. The conversation was stimulating, and the fact that he was a handsome bald black man with beautiful lips and a lovely body helped. I missed my bus, and he offered me a ride home, which I accepted. Getting into his car, I realized I was taking too much for granted, and I pulled my lovely little assassin knife out of my bag and put it in my pocket, along with my rape whistle and giant keychain of DOOM.

We got to my house and continued chatting for a bit, and then I hugged him goodbye and went to get out of the car. I honestly didn't think he was attracted to me in that way, and I didn't know if I was attracted to him. But as I was pulling away from the hug, his hands brushed down my body, and he turned it into a kiss. And what a kiss. I'd give 10 points for execution, 9 for style, and 10 for sheer effrontery. He moved quickly, and was going based on very few signals from me. He's lucky I really, really enjoy that level of aggression, because I can see him getting smacked by many women for assuming so much instant intimacy. 20 minutes later, I was aware of just how... um... stereotypical he was, that he'd be a great lover, that his intensely nerdy exterior (think Carlton, complete with sweater vests and nice shoes) hid an extremely dirty interior, and he was aware that I was wearing my tights of doom (my "You ain't gettin' none easily" tights). There was no way I was going any further, as we were sitting literally right in front of my house under a street light (I feel old. That's never bothered me before, and my neighbors have gotten quite a few shows out of it). But we made a date for Friday night, and I will be wearing my "I'll be amazed if you don't get some" fishnets.

It's mostly just funny to me how quickly my mood changes affect how people treat me and what I get from the world. I woke up yesterday morning feeling healthy and happy for the first time in a while, based on nothing more than some mental exercises designed to remind me to not be a maudlin asshole. And that night I'm back to picking up the type of people I want to pick up and enjoying my sexuality. T and I had beautiful, mellow, fun, FUCKING HOT fun this morning, and we were both in a much better mood. He's another one who needs to acknowledge that sex makes a HUGE difference to his mood, and to not let himself to become a monk.

In thinking about it tonight, it did help to hear from this guy that he's been fantasizing about me for months (and he's an EXCELLENT communicator). It stroked my poor little ego to be so desperately wanted. I kind of hate that part of myself, but also understand and accept it. ::pats ego placatingly::

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