The Jet-set Life is Gonna Kill You

Wrapped up in the dubative cloak that is my worldview (from my perspective or perspectives). Subjective vs. objective. Drop, drop it like it's hot on the normative trope. hmm. I think my mind is being warped by these legal docs...party A agrees to indemnify Party B...in the multi-party, credit-default and interest-rate hedge swaps with a euro-yen reverse-floating debenture...sometimes it is difficult to justify using my mind, such as it is, to tackle things like these.

I know that I have keen, razor-sharp analytical skills; I can cut up a stream of cash flows or the merits of dark denim. I can even, remotely and non-empathetically, take a whack at my faults and imperfect life choices. I can talk with JB about my amazing ability to identify the wrong sort of guy for me, and then steadfastly find myself attracted to Him - big H meta-him, in the heuristic sense of my bizzaro world poster boy. Well, the version of an "ideal him"...the pretty young blond boy with no job and no threat to my intellect or my apparent sense of self and perceived role/function in a relationship. I'm not going to delve into where my attraction comes from; doing so would no doubt lead down the prim rose path towards some A+B = blond of the reductio ad absurdum variety.

So yes, single again. And happily so it would seem. I enjoyed EP's visit quite a bit this weekend, as I knew I would. We have a certain unique rapport...I think partly derived from our syncretic exchanges of the simple life southern boy and the neurotic, OCD, free spending yuppie. Plus he's a cute guy, so it's all good.

Well I had the date with Mark last night. I imagine that everyone reading this blog already knows the details that led up to it, but I will provide some background, for history's sake. Months ago, JB and I met up with some of my high school friends, or "friends", at Roscoe’s one evening, for a quiet evening of discussing Wittgenstein over a game of snooker, or something. Or possibly because JB is one of the few people I know as unrelentingly boy-crazy as myself. Regardless, my friend BJ had brought Mark along; I was immediately struck by how attractive he was...rather tall and skinny with adorable pretty-boy features. Fast forward to EP's visit, and I ran into Mark again w/ BJ et al at Sidetrack, where I proceeded to get impressively lit up. I ended up spending the night at Mark's place that night, although sadly we just ended up making out for a bit before we passed out. And to top things off, I awoke to find myself stupendously hung-over.

Thankfully Mark looked past my stellar first impression, so we went to Mirai for some quality raw fish last night. Unfortunately, my traditional first date place let me down a bit, in that it was pretty loud, and there was an obnoxious dude at the table next to us basically yelling at his girlfriend. So that made talking a bit challenging. The sushi was great as always thankfully, and we had a pretty decent dinner. Mark was dressed very well, dark denim jeans and a black sweater with a black leather jacket; I myself went for dirty-style Diesel jeans and a black Prada dress shirt. Honestly, he looked damn hot, and I found it a bit off-putting. I am not the sort to normally be nervous around people, usually because I don't care enough to be, but I was a bit in this case.

After dinner, I invited him back to my place. He agreed, and I gave him the quick tour of the place; he was amused and gave me shit about the color-order of my shirt closet, and my predilection for Adidas sneakers. Is it my fault that they opened up an Adidas store next to Diesel? What is a guy to do? He commented on how neat my room was, and I replied that it left plenty of space for his clothes on the floor. So, after an OK dinner conversation, I wasn't sure how things would go. But we ended up talking for hours, and I was much more relaxed. We were sitting on my couch, and after a long time of chatting, I reached over to kiss him. Of course, just before I did, he turned his head to look at Vegas, who had jumped onto the armrest. So, my kiss missed, he turned back suddenly, and I ended up being totally embarrassed. Quite awkward, and another stellar performance on my part. So no kiss. Damn. So we talked some more, and he left around midnight. He told me had a great time, and we made tentative plans to do a movie date type-thing this weekend. So we shall see.

To add to my self-induced drama/crises, our CEO is flying out on March 14th with our bonus checks. I have no idea at all what it will be. Enough to take a nice vacation or to get plastic surgery or to get a car? I have no idea. And yes, I know that anything I get is great, and it should be looked on as such, but the size of the bonus also speaks to one's perceived value in/to the firm. So that is really the reason for my being nervous. Well that plus I'm crazy of course :) Oh, and y'all will have to deal with the fact that I have included, mostly, proper spelling and grammar. You can still get your punctuation jollies from reading li'l Zachary's blog, haha.

Later,

Ben

we young, hung, and famous, so

how can ya blame us

these ladies can't tame us