While on set for work on Thursday, I got an email from Jack which listed off movie options and times and suggesting that depending on the movie we see we should have some sangria before/after. I was completely enamored with his take charge attitude and the fact that he did ALL the planning for this date. I spend my life planning EVERYTHING for everyone (I’m a producer…have I mentioned that?) and it’s so nice to let someone else take the reigns for a while.
So on Friday night, we met in Union Square to see Fantastic Mr. Fox. I’m going to digress momentarily to tell you what an AWESOME movie this was! It was so charming and well-done; so fun to watch. And it was perfectly representative of both Wes Anderson and Roald Dahl. After the movie, we walked over to Grey Dog’s Cafe for some sangria, but they were closing. We walked over to Third Ave and settled on Cosmic Cantina for sangria. We ordered a pitcher. We sat and talked while we drank. He’s wonderful—smart, funny, adorable, passionate, interesting, easy to be around—but I just don’t have very strong feelings for him. Maybe there’s something almost boring about him?
After finishing off the pitcher of sangria, we walked to Artichoke for some pizza. We shared a slice of the artichoke pizza and ate standing up over the garbage can. It was a great date! And maybe solely for that reason, I brought him home with me that night.
I hadn’t had sex in about two months before sleeping with Jack. And the last person I slept with was FUCKING MARK. I couldn’t let him be the only person I’ve slept with in 2009 (Frank doesn’t count!), and so I slept with Jack. It was good, not great. There was no wild animal in him. Better than Frank, worse than FUCKING MARK. Part of me wishes I was able to detach FUCKING MARK from the sex, so that I could continue to have mind-blowing sex, without the awful person behind it.
That said, I think I might just abstain for a while. Lately, I’ve been feeling that no one is really worth my time or effort, and that I’d be equally content, if not moreso, just coming home alone for the night, getting stoned, laying on my couch watching episodes of Dexter or Mad Men and eating Fudgsicles.
Looks like I’ll be hibernating for the winter, unless someone comes along and knocks my socks off.
