As the world turns. 

I dated a cop.  And I guess by "dated" I really mean we had an amazing bout of sex.  He was very good.  And very big.  And very considerate lover. 

He was also good with his handcuffs.  :)  Unfortunately, as such things normally are not rosey and cheery... I had to give him the "friends" talk because if I kept seeing him I would have fallen for him.  He was a very "considerate" person (in person).  (Being manipulative, a lot of that was an act... but when you're being treated nicely you can hardly tell.)   

Grrrrrr.  I've given up on this whole thing.  I... uh... comment dit-on?  Je suis fini.  J'ai le cafard.  L'amour vrai?  Il n'exist pas.  Pas pour moi. 

Ou, s'il existe... je ne le trouverai pas.  J'errais le desert, soif et vaincu.

Si ma vie est une aria.  Je ne suis pas la chanteuse qui chante fier et nationalistique les chansons de La Miserable.  Non.  Je suis la chanteuse qui chante dans une tragedy romaine.... je chante avec l'emotion d'un mere qui a perdu son fils et appelle aux dieux pour autre chance a le sauver.  J'ai perdu mon coeur.  Je ne sais pas quel homme l'a vole...  it's gone now, my heart. 

L'amour vrai pour moi... je ne le trouvai.

Apparently, the bartender from the party is interested in me.  He called my aptmate (as he is his friend) the next day to affirm he would be coming to his birthday party on Saturday... which he wasn't sure he could attend.  Apparently, he seems all too eager to see me again.  He also asked about me on the phone!  :)  Yeah baby. 

That party was so ideal.  All the men were after me... only feeding my Leo ego.  Yummy. 

The bartender was cute and nice in an 80s John-Hughes-movie way.   The physicist was too unbelievably sexy (& tall).  The psyc major was devilish, creepy and cool. The two men with long, long beautiful hair were yummy.  The engineer was.... um... well he was dull.

The best part, perhaps, is that I escaped "un-layed" as it were.  Which is good, because I would like to remember sex... especially if it is good sex. 

The psych major, without being told, immediately honed in on my... um... proclivities, and began forcefully grabbing my arm, neck, etc... and being very demanding.  However, I can tell he's not versed in it, because he wasn't able to overcome my stubborness.  It was funny.  It's a balancing act, I guess, for men.  If you look on a sea of women at a party, one of them can likely be commanded to come to the backroom and suck your cock.  But if you choose the wrong one, you'll get a slap on the face (or even worse, perhaps, legally...)  It takes more than a command, it's a series of mental, physical and psychological steps someone would have to go through with me to get me to go with them. 

Oh well.  A lost chance on his part.

If I had to choose anyone.  It would be the physics major.  Yes.  He was tall and gorgeous.  MMMmmm...