Saturday, August 27, 2011

What a Week

The first half of my week was wonderful. Hermosa. Then classes started. I was looking forward to classes starting, until I started seeing Alex. Now, it's a horrible intrusion. Now when I'm in class, all I can think is, "Vamanos!" I got to see my girl! Or at least talk to her on the phone. This sucks, man.

At least I'm going to see her tonight. She wants me to come over. She and her roommate are going to make me dinner. Well, that's some sort of threesome, anyway. Ha! Better not let her read this shit, I'll get myself in trouble, man. I wouldn't want to do anything to fuck this up anyway. Tonight I get to see her. Here in an hour. Can't wait, can't wait, can't wait. I better get in the shower.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Dates with Alex

I just had the best weekend. Obviously, I didn't even have time to post about what I did. Saturday, I took Alex to El Ranchito, the best Mexican food in the entire DFW area. It's down in Oak Cliff, but we went during the day, so it was as safe as anyplace else. Their tortillas are hand-made, and you can watch them make them. I haven't had that for years -- even my wela gets the raw packaged tortillas from the grocery.

But I'm getting off track here. We had a great meal, then went to a little book store down there called Cliff Notes. We had fun browsing together. We then found a Starbucks closer to home and talked for hours. I asked her out Sunday, and told her I'd find us something interesting to do. The only time I spent online before I went to bed was finding something to do Sunday.

Sunday we went to the butterfly exhibit at Fair Park. She was utterly delighted -- and I certainly can't say I wasn't overwhelmed at the beautiful butterflies myself. Then we went to the Dallas Museum of Art, where I got to talk to her about art and discuss what the artists were doing. She seemed interested -- at least, I hope she was interested. At least, she didn't turn me down when I suggested we go to Fort Worth to visit the museums over there.

We had a light, late dinner at Cafe Brazil, where we pretty much hung out, eating and drinking coffee and talking for hours. I don't even know how long we were there. I think there was a shift change.

Alex is a biology major and is interested in the evolution of sex -- why it evolved, the consequences of its evolution, etc. Fascinating stuff. We talked complexity, and she thought that there were similarities between spontaneous order economics and ecosystems in their network structures. I wouldn't doubt it. Nature, once it finds something that works, tends to reproduce it.

We also talked about our families. I told her about growing up in the Valley. She told me about her hippie parents, and that she had lived in a commune for a while. The way we view the world is remarkably similar, though we come from quite different backgrounds. You never know. I can't wait to see her again. We plan to go out again next weekend, but maybe we can meet at Starbucks between now and then. I just love being with her. I don't think we stopped touching for more than a few minutes at a time. What a beautiful girl.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Lovely Alex

We're back early from the gay-stripper-pole-o-rama because, well, that's about as uncomfortable a place to meet a girl one could possibly be. When we walked in there, I started in on Greg again about how I'm not gay and I'm not interested and . . . then he told me, "Okay, whatever," and to shut up because Alex was a girl, and it didn't matter if this was a gay club or not. Fine. So we went in. And there she was. A full-figured, but hardly fat (in other words, perfect) girl, a little small in the chest area, but pretty in the face, and wearing a red dress. A long, cool woman, standing there waiting for us, moving subtly to the music.

"Good job," I told Greg.

He smiled back at me, and we joined her at the table. Greg made introductions as we ordered cokes.

While Greg was out cruising for men, Alex and I talked. I can't really put my finger on it, but she was immediately fascinating, one of those intuitive things, where you know she's the one you want. Beyond lust, though I was surely attracted to her. There was a complexity I needed to know, like everything she said was the truth, but not entirely. Not that I thought she was lying. No, more like there was more to her than she was letting me in on. Mystery. I was trilled when she agreed to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I'm still thrilled about it.

Usually I end up talking a lot about myself. I know, a character flaw. But tonight, I found myself captivated by her. To be honest, she's one of the few people I've ever met whom I've found interesting enough to want to know.

She said she has a roommate, a close friend, and that neither of them dated that much. She admitted she had problems maintaining long-term relationships -- at least with people other than her roommate. I find that hard to believe, she's so charming.

In any case, we spent much of the evening snuggled close, mostly ignoring the swinging banana hammocks all around us, though we could not help noticing (and making fun of) the guy standing in front of the mirror, lovingly admiring his own muscles, nor of course the guy who bent down and asked Greg on one of the times he came back to see how we were doing what was up with us. Greg thought it was hilarious. I guess we heteros were making the gays uncomfortable.

We hugged before we left. I loved the feel of my arms sinking into her flesh. A nice, healthy, full body with a tiny tummy. She must look like the history of Western art when she's naked.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Someone Named Alex

Greg is wanting me to go with him to this place called B.J.'s to meet this girl Alex. Really? I'm supposed to meet some girl at a gay bar? That should go well. What girl would want to go out with a guy she met at a gay bar? I mean, I guess it's different, since we're being brought there to meet each other, but still. I can't imagine that being a comfortable time together. For anyone. Well, I guess I'll just have to get over my discomfort.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Jon Stewart on Ron Paul

Even if his leftism annoys me most of the time, this is awesome. Jon Stewart totally gets it! "Thirteenth floor candidate" -- there's nothing better than that! Today Stewart is definitely one of my mijos!

Faux News is starting to get on my damn nerves.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Gotta Stick to the Story

So let me get this straight: Ron Paul is one point behind Michelle Bachmann, the winner, in the Iowa straw poll, while that rhino Mitt Romney and Rick Perry, who just announced, each only getting a few percentage points, along with Bachmann, are declared the frontrunners, but not Paul. The mainstream media can't be trusted -- they make up their own stories. They all are a bunch of fucking mentirosos.

I mean, I'm not going to deny that that gangster Perry ain't got a chance, cause he sure as shit does, but come on, don't polls mean anything? Or is no set of facts going to keep the media off of their predetermined stories? Bunch of pendejos.

Friday, August 12, 2011


I don't even know where to begin with the madness that occurred last night. Greg came in with his friend, Marc, and Greg was all dressed up wearing this crazy tux. I asked them where they'd been, and they said they were back from the Starbucks and that Greg had met Marc at the Starbucks after attending a funeral. Seems that chiflado Bob got himself killed with a little S&M accident. So naturally, those locos go off to Greg's bedroom and break out the equipment -- like I want to hear all that! Shit, man. They're still going at it. What'd they do, each take a Viagra and a line of coke? Only way I can figure out that level of stamina and energy.

Oh, and Greg tells us that Bob's funeral was all weird and shit. He had his body skeletonized in a beetle box and a boa thrown around his shoulders and an open casket with all that shit. Freaked everyone out. Except Greg, who thought it was hillarious. Sick bitch.

Speaking of sick, I'm getting the fuck out of here, man. I can't concentrate or read with all that racket. Fucking's one thing, but when I hear the crack of a whip, I got to go.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Back to the Old Grind

Just got back from San Juan and I can't wait for classes to start. Specifically, I can't wait for my microeconomics class to start. It's with someone named Xin Li, who also teaches on experimental and behavioral economics, which is why I took her. I would love to take something with Peter Lewin, but I think he mostly only teaches graduate classes. In any case, it doesn't seem like I'll be taking any classes with him anytime soon.

Just got back from San Juan and I swear it is hotter here than in the Valley. Even counting the lack of humidity here. This is crazy. Who ever heard of going north to the heat! It's going to be fucking shorts and chanclas for a while, I think. At least the A.C. is working up in here. And the orchids aren't much the worse for wear. Glad they don't need much water. I left when that mother went out, and I'm glad the front office people got the A.C. working or else this apartment would be unbearable. Again. I'm just glad I saw wela while I was down there. She's getting around slower, but she still insists on making homemade tortillas for everyone. Her frijoles con chorizo would almost make me drive down there every weekend. Now that's a breakfast! And welo's grilled mollejas . . . man, I could have those every day, I swear to God. Can't get those up here anywhere. I don't think, anyway. I eat out more than I cook, so I haven't really been down to La Michoacana, La Fiesta, or El Rancho. And if Cuquita's doesn't have them, I can't imagine there being another Mexican restaurant to. Mmmm. Cuquita's. Some chorizo nachos from there sounds good for dinner. I think I'll head over there later.

Come to think of it, I have a lot of things to do. I need to run over to Michael's to get some oil paints. Maybe I'll stop by Starbucks first. I could use a nice mocha. And some groceries. After I throw out all that month-old crap in there, I have to put some new groceries up in there. I know Greg will appreciate having food in the house when he gets here. In fact, I wonder when that crazy queen will be getting here. Thank goodness none of my family actually read this thing, or they'd be appalled my roommate is gay. They'd probably assume I was too. Can't be friends with a gay man without being gay, I guess. Well, he gets here when he gets here -- in the meantime, I have the place to myself. That's one thing you don't get in the Valley: time to yourself. I could almost swear I was down there but a week. It will be nice to relax now that I'm back.

What I really need is a model. I'm tired of painting Greg. I hope he doesn't read my blog, because I know he loves being painted. His room is filled with my paintings of him. That has to be strange for the guys he brings over, seeing all those naked paintings of Greg looking at them. Or maybe not. Why else are they in his bedroom, after all! In any case, I need a female model. Other than the fact that I wouldn't mind a naked woman in my room, I need to work on the female form. Of course, when I'm painting, it's all objective, but still. I'll find some chica to pose for me when school starts. I need to get back to painting. I come up with some of my best ideas when I'm painting. Creative, relaxing, stimulating -- there's little I love more. Other than economics, that is. Speaking of which, I need to find where I put my Hernando de Soto. I thought I could read The Other Path while I was in the Valley, but reading around those people is impossible. Maybe I can relax for a bit at Starbucks and get some reading done.

Hold it, wait, I think I hear someone outside the door. I bet that's Greg. Oh well, there goes my alone time. And getting anything read. That boy will talk my ear off until next Wednesday. I better get off of here and see what's up.