god. last night.

we went to soho for our usual "drink heavily and hook up with our bartenders" mantra. but it didn't exactly turn out that way. they're making our drinks extra strong for us these days, and they get cheaper every day. which is always a bad thing for a woman so easily seduced by an appletini.

5 drinks, and a pack of cigarettes later, i was on the phone with my boy, who was going to come down to meet us. out of the blue he says, "so i heard you hooked up last week". this presents a problem because 1) we are in the process of rebuilding our relationship
2) he shouldn't have known
3) it was true.

told him to come to the bar and we would talk. then something happened that i have never felt compelled to do before, i ran outside, it was pouring rain, and screamed obscenities into the night. it felt great,

once he arrived i started to revert into that obsessive, paranoid girl that i hate. i was mad that he knew, and mad because he didn't tell me who had told him. i wasn't straight. he found a lot of pleasure in it though, and teased me all night long. thing is, last friday i would have gone home with him if he had picked me back up like i asked him to. but he didn't. so i hooked up with tommy.

it should have been him.

the rest of the night was awesome, afterhours was kickin, and my boy took care of me. around 3:30 he was about to bounce, so i gave him some love, and what should have been a whisper actually was not, and i told him i would have fucked his brains out that night, and every night.

happy valentine's day, indeed.