Monday, 29 July 1996I'm in a foul mood today. This happens so rarely I'm almost luxuriating in it…
Took a sleeping pill at 9:30 pm last night and crawled into bed around 10 or 10:30 and lay awake and could not unwind at all. My mind was brimming; in equal portion I was aware of the possibilities and the fear swirling within and this merry-go-round would not stop.
From midnight till 1 am the guest on CFRB's "Nightside" was a Washington, D.C. therapist whose name I've already forgotten [Brad Blanton], the author of Radical Honesty and I really liked what he had to say and this roused me further.
Finally just before 2 am I got up, feeling not so much exasperated as common-sensical; I ironed my work clothes, got the coffee all ready for the morning and watched an old Lucille Ball flick on TV for a bit.
Oh yes, and I also took 1/2 of another sleeping pill. And then I poured myself a stiff vodka and coke which I consumed (followed by an equally strong but smaller drink) as I watched TV, flipped through books off the shelf, and left Alex a tipsy voice message asking him to phone me at 8 am to make sure I was up, which he didn't do.
John knocked on my door at 7:55 am, alarmed that I was still in bed; he'd just got home from Mike's. Mark had called at 7:40 and I hadn't heard the phone. Then my alarm went off at 8. Guess I'd fallen asleep sometime after 3 am.
So I've been really out of it. Don't feel particularly hungover, but groggy beyond belief.
A quiet solitary day mostly alone Saturday. On the way to Alex's I saw Mark with his new "beau" Chris at Toby's so stopped off and was introduced to my ex-lover’s new man. It was awkward but once again my initial response was relief that I was cuter than Chris. Even so, by the time I got to Alex's I was weirded out.
Out for dinner with Alex & John to Trattoria. Alex paid! I drank his virtually untouched glass of red wine at the end.
To the Barn with them afterwards.
Wow, I am very distracted as I sit here. Just feel like smoking and staring vaguely out the window. That was such a bizarre night last night! John chided me this morning, appropriately, for mixing sleeping pills with booze. Alex left an apologetic message at work for me while I was on lunch, explaining his phone was unplugged so he'd just picked up my 2:30 am message today. Said I sounded extremely giddy on the message.
Alex got punched on the dance floor at the Barn Saturday night: made his nose bleed profusely. He, John and I were dancing together, the dance floor was as overcrowded as usual, and this big old troll was dancing shirtless all around us, and he kept bumping into us and singing in our ears. At one point he put his hands on my hips and I matter-of-factly removed them. But he kept swirling around and bumping me so I annoyedly walked off.
I was sipping a beer and walked around for a few minutes. Next time I spot Alex & John on the dance floor, a space had cleared, and John was standing in between Alex and the old geezer, his hand defiantly stuck out towards the latter, who was being restrained by a couple other guys.
Alex had asked him to stop bumping into him but he hadn't listened so finally Alex shoved him and the old man punched him in the nose.
It was dramatic and ugly. In the washroom Alex couldn't get his nose to stop bleeding; once the officious staff member (the one who regularly waltzes through the darkroom warning habitues to watch out for pickpockets) had kicked the old man out the door, he took Alex downstairs to do whatever he did to stop the bleeding. John was very shaken by what happened and he left once Alex was alright and back dancing. It hit Alex pretty hard too and he went home soon after.
None of this fazed me particularly that night; perhaps because I was slightly under the influence. It wasn't till the next day it sunk it how disturbing the violence had been for both Alex and John; I realize how upset I would have been had it been me who'd been slugged.
I hung out in and around the "petting zoo" for quite a while after all the excitement died down. Got a fair bit of attention but I wasn't really into the scene: couldn't get hard, no matter what people tried.
What I was very pleased about was that I only had 2 beer. Could have got myself really pissed (because Alex unexpectedly picked up the tab at dinner, I had enough cash in my wallet to do so) but I didn't. This made me feel quite good, less out of control.
I left the Barn around 2 am, and damned if I didn't get picked up walking the 2 blocks home! Cruised this cute stocky black guy, he cruised back; we were headed in opposite directions when our eyes met on Church by Maple Leaf Gardens and we both kept walking and eventually we both stopped and retraced our steps. Within minutes we were in his apartment on Carlton, going at it. His name was Darin, 23, half St. Lucian, half Tanzanian. Very handsome with big black eyes and a closely-shaved head. He was friendly in a closed-off sort of way.
I had fun with him, that was it: no more, no less. I liked his thick cock and was intrigued at his pierced urethra--never heard of or seen that before. He told me what this piercing is called, but I've forgotten.
I especially enjoying rimming his bubble butt and he liked it in a way that suggested I may have introduced him to a new pleasure. I jerked myself off with my tongue buried in his tasty butt after I'd brought him off with my hand after getting him to the brink with my mouth, the silver stud in his dick clicking against my teeth with every bob. It was neat.
Was home in my own bed around 3 am; didn't offer my number or anything. Lay awake till almost 5, feeling very sexual.
