Mardi Gras 2008.2

So things just kept getting more interesting.

Sweet M, The Carpenter, did call me, was interested, but I told him my Not Dating story. Texted it to him, actually, which I know is very Lame on my part. But he proceeded to call me on pain killers at 2 o'clock in the morning. And has again, weeks later, started calling me again. Every time he calls he leaves marathon messages, the first inquiring if I had any work for him. My empathetic self would offer it if I did, but the sane part of me says Don't give this guy Any hint of interest.

Then there was The Great Gatsby (S-, previously mentioned). He continued to haunt me the week after I met him, until we exchanged poetically-inspired emails and he got my number.

Saturday was Endymion. And it was back in MidCity, which was thrilling. So I decided that I should have a party at my house - at 9:30 in the morning. We went through bottles of vodka and nigh on a case of champagne in the end, I think... And had omelets made to order. My new girlfriend, The Train Wreck, came and we ended up spending all day together. Made our way to parties closer to the route, and ended up dancing in the neutral ground on Orleans, but totally abandoned the Parade. After all that, it didn't really matter. Saw C- and his new Girl, and was happy to see them and they were confused, at best. C'est la vie. Then went to a party in an old converted gas station with TrainWreck, and we had a lovely time and I left early and she began her love affair with a 50 y/o artist. I think it's totally reasonable, but she's 30 and... well, you know.

Sunday. Sunday I made it to The Old Southern Family's yearly Thoth party, and had a grand ol' time. Prom Date came by, and we all hung out together, as we always do... but by the end of the parade the Married Darlings (S&A) were sleeping, so PromDate and I set out on our own. I had had a bit to drink at this point, and kept drinking and we made it, after one party stop, to my friend the Cyclist's house on St. Charles. I proceeded to get more drunk, and all of a sudden I'm making out with my Prom Date. It took 10 years. (!) I mean, really. Watched the superbowl, slept through the 3rd quarter, and eventually made it home.

So Monday was supposed to be a day of rest, right? This is what I had advised Great Gatsby, and why did I not take my own advice? Went to a "Masquerade" party at The King Pin with TrainWreck. I'm sitting at the bar, and can't figure out how I know this guy, and I ask after him and finally, as he's walking inside I just say "How do I know you?" This is a trick that Oldest Friend N- taught me, but I've never used it as a trick. Note to self: It works. He and I ended up chatting all night and then I want to the parade with him and he was a lovely guy with some interesting (read: strippers) but lovely friends. And I went home with him. *sigh* We eventually figured out we work out at the same gym. So Gym Guy at least listened when I said No sex, but that didn't keep him from coming on my stomach. Fair enough. No real damage done. I have seen him at the gym a couple times since... but still haven't mustered the courage to say hello. It's remarkable to me: I don't actually want to date him or get to know him, so saying anything seems pointless.

So then Tuesday rolls around. Whew. Tuesday. I dress up as Nancy Sinatra without realizing it, and head down for St. Ann's with enough rations of alcohol to get myself started. At Marcus's House I meet Silver Man, who makes me laugh and quizzes me about American History. I take a photo of him somewhere along the route and go on my way.

An Aside: I love doing Mardi Gras day this way. I loved being free to go where the wind took me, and to meet people or not. It gave me a freedom to walk around and talk
to all sorts of people and meet friends and end up on a balcony at the pontalba.

So the middle of the day is blurry - I think we went from there back to frenchmen street, and finally found the Krewe of St. Ann's, and there was Krewe du Jieux and all my other lovelies and favorites for the day. I was pretty pleased and satisfied at 2pm when I got a call from... none other than the Great Gatsby. At this point, my giddiness finally pops the last safety pin that has been keeping the back of this vintage dress that is older than I am together. I am changed immediately into a little puddle of sweet happy girlishness. He is coming down to the Quarter, he says. I should meet him. All of this sounds very good to me.

I hang tight til about 5. At this point, I'm with Oldest Friend and her boy and my de facto New Year's Eve date (sweet boy that he was, is now dressed in GREAT drag) - listening to crazy music at CheckPoint. Finally, I get the call from GG, although I have almost gone home about 20 minutes before. Thank heavens I stuck it out.

I walk down to Lafitte's, with a brief stop at R Bar to say hello to Pumpkin Boy, and settle in with GG and his un-costumed B-school friends. They are... boring, to be honest. I encourage the adorable wife of one of them to dance with me, my back hanging out... and we take lovely photos of the hilarious couple to our right. They are both 100+pounds overweight, he in drag, and she in a plus-size cheerleader costume. Apparently, they are divorced since he came out. Ha!

It doesn't take long for Gatsby and I to make our way through 2+ "purples" (frozen grain alcohol and sugar - UGH)... and then we go home. To my house, which is a disaster, but I didn't really care at that point. He skipped class the next day and I didn't make it to work until 3pm. I left him with a bj that deserved a standing ovation. I was very proud. We walked across town to my car, then I drove him home... all the way very cloudy-headed from all the drinking and dehydration.

It was a brilliant carnival time. Now, 2 weeks later, I am still loving the story of it, and pleased that I did only have sex with one of them. Dates with Silver Man have come and gone. He thinks we "really connect", I know it's not right. Prom Date finally tried to ask me out. I have to have that conversation with him. Gym Guy and I have parted ways permanently. Although it was fun. If either of us wanted to see each other again, we could. To be quite honest, he's just not smart enough.


And then there's Gatsby. We had another perfect night & day last weekend. He came for a Sazerac, and then we had brunch the next morning at Degas and walked on the bayou and spent all day at the Track betting on ponies. I lost a bet about Alligators being bigger than Crocodiles, and have promised him dinner at Patois. And I can't wait. The first week I was practically casual about it. I knew I'd see him again... and now my hormones are getting the best of me and I have come about 70% of the way to calling him after a cocktail for a quick one. And yet, both times, I've thought better of it.

There is something special about him - no, that's not right. There is something special about us together. We are both infectious, both have a sparkle and make each other vaguely intoxicated. I am truly curious to see how it will end, although I think I already know. I don't trust that anything real will come of it - and I have said as much to him. But in the meantime, I love spending time with him, love how much fun we have together, love how he touches me, and how great the sex is.

I just keep judging myself for having this purely casual relationship with someone who has the most potential to be absolutely perfect for me as anyone I've met, maybe ever. But maybe, just maybe, that's ok for now. That may be all I can handle right now.