naked in bed with boys i don’t love (part 2):


(continued from HERE)

it was a Wednesday night. was it a full moon? it may as well have been. i canceled my podcast to meet a friend of mine at some hollywood party he invited me to; a directors birthday. i knew ahead of time i’d be drinking: partly because i was wanting to have a crazy night and partly cuz i knew i’d be self-conscious going to a party alone and hanging out with famous people. it was all very conscious: i’d had a conversation/checked in with myself (as my therapist would say) and made the decision to get drunk that night and have an adventure; be it a make out, radome sex, an orgy, a threesome, or just end up naked in a hot tub. i had no idea… but i wanted to get weird.

i ate a big macro at m cafe for dinner to line my stomach. i drove to the party, which in hind sight was SUPER stupid (do people ever say ‘soups stoops’?) because i knew i was gonna drink. i totally should have cabbed it. oh well, i handled it all fine. we’ll get to how, later. i pulled up, gave the valet my car (sometimes i forget to take off my bizarro prius key/button thing, and go into wherever it is i’m going leaving the valet in the lurch… but NOT this time! it was a sign! tonight was gonna be a good night! or just memorable!?) i passed by men in bow ties pointing which way to go up the stairs to get to where the party was happening. i navigated walking on the tiniest, most NARROW sliver of concrete between a wall and a pool, praying i didn’t topple in upon arrival. i would have DIED! DIED!

i wondered if i might end up in the pool later, topless with all the other party goers. and hopefully only the most good-looking of the bunch! but that was neither here no there. i didn’t have time to wonder about ridiculous NONENSE… hey look, there’s my friend! he wasn’t exactly a friend. he was an acquaintance i’d known for a while. i’d always been attracted to him… but something about him scared me. was it the fact that i thought he might be mean and have no feelings? yes! also, i just didn’t feel safe with him. and yet i was drawn to him. he has nice eyes and is really smart. unfortunately i knew i’d never get close enough to really learn from him. and for political reasons, i could never date him… cuz i’m taller and he dated my friend. i’m actually kind of over the height thing. kind of. also, i knew if i ever slept with him… he would turn on me in an instant. we would no longer even have the casual semblance of a friendship we were pretending to have. which at least involved witty banter and occasional texting. i love being able to text with people i don’t know very well about the deepest darkest most honest thoughts i’m having at any given moment. it’s like emotional chat roulette, except without the visuals, and in twitter form. n e wayz…

i said hello to my friend who’d invited me, immediately ordered a vodka soda, sat down next to that dude who wrote that movie, i know, right?! i ran into people i knew that i didn’t expect to see. one of which was a beautiful girl, whose face always makes me happy when i see it. she was dressed ONLY/ALL in red. this would only add to the night!

me and my girlfriend in red (who is like a foot shorter than me btw) did laps and took in the party: holy shit! a rapper i’d had a crush on for like 2 weeks, a weird indie pop star girl with lip injections wearing flats (later i was so happy to see her eating a cup cake… it just made her more likable) and a bevy of other people i’ll get to…

one drink turned into four and before i knew it i was negotiating a threesome with a pale skinned, bloated (i’m assuming from pills), yet charming and smart gothy pop star with weird eyes and his hot babe girlfriend who said that if we all  were to have sex- i was only allowed to have sex with her and not him. wait, what? what kind of bullshit threesome was this turning into… BEFORE IT EVEN STARTED!? i don’t think so! i mean, yes, i know at some point in my life i’ll be out of experiences to experience and will want to learn how to lick pussy… but i wasn’t there yet; and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna happen in a situation being labeled as some MOCK threesome! no dice. it’s for the best though, as i was almost positive the pop star had herpes. on a side note, my gynecologist says  everyone has herpes and that getting it is only a matter of time… but i don’t have it, and (knock on wood) i’d like to keep it that way. yikes.

this party was actually like a herpes land mine. i should have stayed home. NOT! anyways, i dodged that std bullet and moved on to gossiping with actors, an ex boyfriend that thinks i’m a nutcase (why? just because i kept repeating my latest mantra “we’re all gonna die! it’s just a matter of when and how! you have to get weird and be brave and collect as many experiences as possible!” followed by “so, total hypothetical, if we were to have sex… would you buy me pancakes tomorrow morning?”) and keeping tabs on the rapper hyphenate. it’s important to ALWAYS have a goal! and my goal of the evening quickly solidified. actually, in this case, i had several 1. don’t get herpes and 2. have sex with a rapper.

on my way to the ladies room, i made out with the guy who invited me to the party (whoops) which was awesome, but it had to be put on ice cuz he had his eye on the singer with lip injections, i had my sights set on the rapper… and this wasn’t a time to fuck around! we could make out ANYTIME! during our kiss the babely director dude walked in (does that mean i’ll never be able to kiss him?) and i ran away, pushing my friend toward lip injections as i linked back up with my bff in red. we found the rapper on a patio… (to be continued)

naked in bed with boys i don’t love (part 1 of a gazillion):

so much stuff has happened. i haven’t written about my personal life in a while. i’ve been wanting to, but every time i tried to force myself… i’d do every other thing possible to avoid sitting down and writing. and i’ve been up to so much too! i’ve been having so many adventures, i’ve been using that as an excuse for not writing ‘well i’m too busy collecting stories.’ or ‘i can’t beat myself up for not writing because this is the down time where i’m supposed to experience things and reflect and…. zzzzzzz’. so now i’m sitting down and facing myself. what the fuck have i been up to? what the fuck have i been doing? where do i even start? i got out of a relationship… and the dude i dated is so unattractive to me now, i can’t even look back. however… the sex was great and he was kind. but given the opportunity, i will never sleep with him again. i call that ‘moving backwards’. i’m not saying the stories i’m about to tell you don’t involve me sleeping with guys i vowed never to mess around with again… i just mean, not THAT guy. even as we were breaking up; as i sat in his car during that cliché uncomfortable silence that happens when you sit in a car at night with the person you’re about to not be in a relationship with anymore… while i was semi tearing up, i was doing an internal inventory of the boys i’d been wanting to sleep with/guys i could potentially hook up with now that i was single! guys i’d met, known, seen that i thought ‘hmm… if and when i become single, he seems neat/sexy/cool/interesting… (or) i’d really love to make-out/be fucked by that guy!’ but no one even came to mind!

immediately after the break up, i just kept moving forward (like a shark?) for a moment i was fixated on a guy who was married but that’s not my style. i know better. and that momentary crush dissipated quickly. next i slept with a guy i’d met through a friend. over drinks, he gave me the impression he had split from his girlfriend. but after we slept together, he told me he was married, but that they were in a ‘weird place and taking space’. what the fuck? um, why didn’t anyone think to tell me about this? where was the wedding ring he was supposed to be wearing? why didn’t i know this before he asked me to drinks? fuck! even though this was not my problem, this was definitely NOT the type of experience i wanted to continue or repeat. we remained friends (and by friends, i mean casual acquaintances) but before we said goodbye, i talked to him for a very long while (over the phone) about his options/what his behavior meant. i tried to help him look at himself. but all he had were answers that made him feel less guilty and as if he had his life all figured out/wrapped up in a bow/and an excuse for everything. ha! i was already used to this type of lying one does to ones self from my conversations with the previous married guy i’d tried to psychoanalyze. i was very familiar with this bizarro compartmentalizing and rationalizing people who are too scared to just follow their heart do. they like to explain away to whoever will listen… but really, they’re talking to themselves.

i only had enough energy to say a few words to the guy. cuz this type of convo is exhausting and more often than not, results in nothing changing:  ‘jesus fucking christ, the golden rule is treat people the way you want to be treated! if you don’t want to be with her, leave. the world won’t implode. you’ll both be okay. you’ll be doing each other a service. thank god you two don’t have kids! get out before she accidentally gets pregnant! or what if you cheat on her and get a disease and then give it to HER?! this isn’t ok! how would you feel if your wife walked around without a ring on, acted as if she were single, and slept with someone? probably not so good!’ ‘but she wouldn’t be able to survive without me. she’d crumble. she’s not strong enough. i wait around cuz maybe it’ll get better.’ ‘but how hard is it supposed to be? you’re still young! it’s not supposed to be this hard! you cheated! the trust is gone! this is not ok! oh, you think she wouldn’t be ok without you? she’d crumble? oh, really? fuck you! that is so self-indulgent! she’d be fine! believe me! do her a favor and end it! let her show you how fine she’d be! you’re being a pussy! you’re lying to yourself because you’re scared to be alone, you’re a people pleaser, and you want it both ways! That’s not ok!’

He decided to stay with his wife. yikes. these two back to back experiences with unhappy, confused, unavailable men made me question love/monogamy/and marriage… for a SECOND. then i remembered (after talking to dr. drew during one of my 7th grade style call in’s to loveline on kroq) that these are two very specific cases and don’t represent all men. phew. but why was i attracting such emotionally confused and unavailable men? was it because they were a reflection of me? was i just as confused and unavailable as them? or did they need to meet me because i was the perfect person to have a conversation with to send them back in the right direction… whatever that means? or at least a direction toward living a more clear and honest life? hmmm. who knows? but it didn’t go un-looked at on my end.

next, i went on a date with a SINGLE guy: tall, young, beautiful and totally wrong for me because i was completely uninterested in nearly everything he had to say. i didn’t want to be… but i was. we were in very different place in our lives. he gave me an epic guitar lesson… and that was the highlight. i wished it had been just that. i could have kept having him show me chords forever. he was such a wonderful teacher. thanks to him and our date, i realized that there’s a big difference between being able to play guitar and being able to teach guitar or teach anything in general. you can be a master at something, but it’s a completely different skill to be able to teach someone something. teaching takes patience and the art of communicating clearly.  he was lovely, just not for me. we did not have sex; but he DID try to lick my privates… and i appreciate that!

i had lost a lot of weight at the tail end of my relationship because i’d been stressed from work. however, the week my relationship ended (in an empty indian restaurant on ventura blvd aka ‘the valley’ btw) my life suddenly slowed down. i feared i’d put weight back on… and i did. not a ton. i just went back to my normal self. no big deal. but i used this as an excuse to go into lock down mode. i needed to be alone. i needed to mourn the death of my relationship. i didn’t feel sexy. i didn’t want to be touched. i stayed in and watched bad tv- reality show bullshit, movies, the original 90210, sex and the city, something borrowed, an unmarried woman, broken english. i picked at my skin and tried to self sabotage….

and then out of nowhere, something shifted. i was in a weird place. NO, a NEW weird place. i was (metaphorically speaking) in a waiting room – work wise. i’d had all these meetings about projects and stuff and whatever and now all i could do was wait to hear back from the powers that be.

and even though i was continuing to wake up, breathe, eat, sleep, podcast, do some mediocre blawging and run errands, i felt aimless and a bit hopeless. but my previous isolated/internal depression turned into something else. i felt like i had nothing to lose.

i woke up one day and i no longer cared to stay in all night watching bad tv, hiding up in my apartment.

i wanted to be reckless and get drunk and make out and have sex and adventures. i didn’t give a fuck! was it because it was getting warmer out? no. i was living by a new code. i had a subconscious (now conscious) mantra going on in the back of my mind: ‘we’re all gonna die. it’s just a matter of when and how. so collect as many adventures as possible.’ and that’s when shit got exciting. this is just an intro to the stories to come… (to be continued)


i haven’t even been able to successfully masturbate recently. i mean, if i was in the mood to even try, i would be successful at it… but i haven’t been. i’m walking around in the weirdest mood lately. sure. i just got an i-phone, so life can’t be ALL that bad. now i have more incentive to get in a car wreck while i’m pretending NOT to be: a) fascinated by how much my phone can do/ b) texting and driving. and ps: day one of owning the i-phone, when i’m not driving, i’m walking around los Angeles talking to anyone who will listen/crosses my path and saying things like ‘hey, do you have an i-phone?’ ‘yeah. why?’ ‘cuz, i just got one. so, yeah. i have one too now. it’s crazy, right?!’ while the person just looks at me with a deadpan expression thinking ‘this poor girl. where was she two years ago when i was as excited as she is now? poor thing. she can’t even partake in the collective excitement that passed her by.’ and then i say ‘do you have Siri?’ and that’s when i realize there’s an i-phone class system. and as much as i want to connect, i can’t; cuz we’re the same but different.

anyway, i-phone bullshit aside, i don’t know if it was the full moon the other day, or my recent break up, or mercury in retrograde or whatever else people are saying is causing the general collective moodiness… but i feel weird. i feel like i’ve been sleep walking. i feel glazed over. i ALREADY blame my i-phone for that! to be fair, i should blame my blackberry too. the i-phone is just an intense chaser. regardless, here’s where i’m at: i’m watching too much tv. late nights up till 7am watching back to back episodes of the original Beverly hills 90210 on dvd; every Kardashian show; mob wives; each and every ‘real housewives of…’ wherever, bravo Andy in the clubhouse; bettheny ever after; tmz; the soup; Chelsea lately; fuck… i even watched ‘shahs of sunset’! ‘SHAHS OF MOTHERFUCKING SUNSET!” i promised myself i wouldnt! BUT I DID! and when i tell my friends i was up till 7am and my eyes are burning, they get excited, thinking i was having sex or raging or having adventures – which i’m known to do. but no. i’ve been in a bizarro, glazed over, lethargic, haze these past ten days. ten days is it?

i’m trying  my hardest not to pick at bumps on my body that no one can see but me (i call this behavior ‘home surgery’/self sabotage) because I’m anxiety ridden and worried that my dreams aren’t gonna come true and that ultimately everything isn’t gonna be ok. i also think the picking is me subconsciously, but now consciously, trying to prevent myself from getting naked in front of strangers. this behavior isn’t new for me. it seems to always strike when i’m in between relationships. i just forget about this. i block it out. like how girls block out the warning signs that they’re gonna get their period… even though it happens every month. or how women (or so i’ve heard) block out how painful it is to give birth. cuz if they didn’t, they’d never have another kid again. i guess i block out my post break up behavior because if i didn’t i might never jump back into being in love again?

during this slump… i’ve found moments of warmth come while watching ‘something borrowed’ for the umpteenth time. i’ve even found myself literally saying to myself things like “John Krasinski is so likable. he’s the new tom hanks! i’m telling you!” and “this ginnifer goodwin girl has such a lovable face. i really adore her. i don’t even care that she spells her name all weird with a ‘g’ or whatevs.” and “this might be the best work Kate Hudson has ever done. for real. and yeah, i’m even factoring in her performance in ‘almost famous’ too, even.”

i still have no crush on anyone. i’m pissed and disenchanted that my ex boyfriend turned out to be what i hoped/thought he wasn’t when i first met him: a pussy. someone too sensitive and overall, someone not strong enough for me. someone who refused to see me clearly, but pretended to. someone who did himself the disservice of not being his true self around me because i intimidated him. all of this bums me out, because all i thought he was doing and all i wanted him to be was himself. all i wanted him to do was love me and not be phased by me and my sense of humor. i just wanted to accept him, and for him to accept me.

and now, these past few days, i’ve been catching myself falling into pockets of momentary disillusionment. momentary pockets of disenchantment where i question if anyone will ever love me again. if i’ll ever love anyone. i’ve thought: what’s the point? everything ends or gets shitty eventually anyway, so why even start again? why even try? and even when/if i do start dating again… even if it’s just because i want to have sex and be touched and kissed again… why invest my heart or any part of me emotionally? why do that? i see so many of my friends who are in lackluster relationships. they’re unhappy, and cheating, or fighting, or faking, or gloomy, or staying in their situation out of fear, or settling. what the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK!? it all looks so shitty! like everything’s doomed/has an expiration date.

right now, i’m not looking for a boyfriend… however, i am on the verge of being in dire need of sex again… but that’s just primal. i just feel ‘blah’. i’m trying though. trying to take the advice i’d give to a friend. i wake up and make coffee and shave my legs and make myself as cute as i can before i leave the house so i can trick myself into feeling good. so i can feel a bit sexy? i’m staying busy, and making lists, and checking things off on those goal lists. i’m focusing on work, i’m spending time with my family, and friends, and my i-phone. i’m making songs, and writing, and taking epsom salt baths, and playing drums, and trying new restaurants (and trying to balance THAT with not gaining too much weight). i’m staying up till 4am reading the Craigslist missed connections, and trolling Facebook/twitter, and reading, and going to the korean naked spa… i’m trying to distract myself; to fake it till i make it. i’m newly single-ish, not interested in anyone, AND i’m waiting to begin a job that’s around the corner… so the in between, down time is an uncomfortable feeling for me. i’m sleeping in late. have a hard time getting out of bed, etc. i know i said all this… but it just feels really unlike me. it feels like i have mono! i don’t, but it feels like i do! i know i am the perf candidate for mono, but i already had it in eighth grade! how DARE you!

one of my favorite things to do while i’m out and about, when i am finally able to get out of my goddamn front door, is smile at strangers who look all grumpy. and when we make eye contact, their grumpy face melts away into a smile. that makes me happy. that little moment has a ripple effect and not only does it make me feel less alone and connected to the world, it makes me feel like i made a little contribution. something as simple as eye contact and a smile.

my therapist tells me that this mood i’m in, this phase, is the quiet before the storm. i believe him. i have to. what else can i do? he says things like ‘everything is exactly as it needs to be’. he tells me to say this to myself when i’m panicked and am forgetting to breathe (which i often do). and so i say it aloud to myself, when no one’s looking/around. duh. and it actually does calm me. i tell myself that this hazy rut will pass and needs to exist for reasons i’ll understand later.

and overall, i know that no matter how bitter the taste in my mouth gets right now- regarding love and relationships- i’m a romantic. and when it’s right, it’s right. i’ll feel it/vibe it when i cross paths with whoever i’m meant to be sexxxing next or whoever i’m meant to love next. right now, i don’t think they’ll be the same person… but one day they will be. xoxo

alexi’s ultimate check list for the future love of her life (feel free to use my list!):

Once again, i’m single… and that’s fine. six months ago i was so content and happy being single. i was having sex like a dude, completely career driven with no ties to my heart and so emotionally unavailable no one was able to get under my skin… because i didn’t care about them to begin with. i had absolutely NO desire to be in a relationship, and that’s when one found me. which is exactly where i think a person should be emotionally before they get into a relationship. um, not the having sex like a dude and being essentially numb part, just the overall state of being content and happy in your singledom. because, ideally, you should be with someone because it’s undeniable and you don’t want to miss out on them because they’re too amazing and you feel so good when you’re with them, and you’re in love! NOT because you need a warm body next to you who could be ANYONE, just because you’re too scared to be alone and think you’re a failure if you’re not coupled up. do people really feel that way? even now? that’s so weird to me.

but now that’s all over and i’m looking forward to getting back to the ‘i’m so secure and happy being single’ state. in a way, even though i broke up with my last dude, i wasn’t ready to be out of my relationship. i actually really LIKED being in a monogamous, healthy relationship! i did! it was great! and the reason it had to end snuck up on me. although it was something that needed to happen, and was inevitable… it all happened so quickly and wasn’t what i had planned on. i had AT LEAST four more months in me to give. ; )

whenever i give my heart to someone and get into a relationship with them, i’m taking myself off the market and giving myself to them because i love them and have the intention that we could be together forever. you have to think that! you should be that crazy about them that that’s your intention. why go in knowing you’re gonna be looking for an out at some point down the road? that’s what flings, dating, and one night stands are for. duh.

i mean, yeah, i’m a realist as much as i am a romantic; i know that sometimes (most of the time?) we’re only meant to have relationships with people for a certain amount of time because they’re a stepping stone to the next life lesson/love/relationship/distraction. but i like to jump into a relationship a million percent. when i say ‘i love you’ (and i’m not talking about how loosely i use it on twitter), i mean it. shit, i hope i don’t start to get jaded or bitter when it comes to love. no, i won’t. i might not ever get married, but i’m going to fall in love as many times as i can/need to/find it, and do so with as much child like enthusiasm as usual. i mean, you can learn from experiences and not get bitter.

so now that this relationship is freshly over, and i’ve just been reminded of what works and does not work for me in a relationship, in an attempt to get acclimated at being a single, healthy, happy, productive, focused, balanced girl again- it’s important i get reaquainted with what it is i’m looking for the next time love finds me.

i’m not saying i want to rush into another relationship, as if that’s the goal of every single girl/that’s what defines success and happiness for a woman. not at all. i could be single for the rest of my life and never get married or have kids or anything and that would be fine. although i do feel that relationships are just as important as being single/comfortable being alone. relationships are where you do the most work on yourself. they are a tool to learn about yourself, using the other person as a mirror you’re reflected in; you have to explain yourself and be held accountable for you moods, actions, words, behavior, feelings. your childhood demons/history/scars come up and all the other emotional dark stuff you can’t see when you’re single.

right now, i’m in a state of reflection and attempting to get some clarity on what just happened and what i need when it comes to having a lover/partner/boyfriend, whatever.

i mean, to be real, at THIS point i just want to MEET someone i’m excited enough about to have sex with. someone who’s single and respectful and cute and interesting… and then, beyond that, i’m good with just getting back to that place where i’m completely satisfied being single and totally/exclusively in love with myself.

presently, i’m not excited about anyone. i’ve just survived a break up, a birthday, valentine’s day, etc.

so here i am: in desperate need of writing a letter to myself to remind me not to settle for less than what i want/need/deserve.

feel free to borrow my list.

alexi’s ultimate check list for the future love of her life:

-we make each other’s lives better.

-he respects, loves, supports, and is excited about what i do for work. and vice versa.

-he makes me laugh and i make him laugh.  (so much, like crazy!)

-i am so attracted to him. he’s so attracted to me.

-we have great sex! epic sex!

-he has a wonderful, big private that satisfies me.

-he’s successful and loves his career.

-he’s my best friend. i’m his best friend.

-i can talk to him about anything. he can talk to me about anything. (without either of us getting weird/uncomfortable/or offended)

-we are so passionate about each other.

-we get each others sense of humor. we love each others sense of humor.

-he’s taller than me.

-he has great style. when we walk into a room, we look great together.

-i love his body. he loves my body.

-we can do anything together and it’s fun and easy: long walks, traveling, hiking, being quiet together, making stuff, etc.

-he isn’t threatened by my having a blog where i talk about love, sex, my feelings, and experiences. he thinks it’s great and loves it/it gives him insight into the inner-workings of my brain, and we can talk about it. he thinks i’m a badass.

-i feel safe with him. he feels safe with me.

-we’re creative together.

-he’s true to his word. i can count on him doing what he says he’ll do. i can count on him if i need help.

-he makes more money than me.

-he has no roommates, dogs, or kids.

-he drives a nice car.

-he’s single.

-he treats me like a princess.

-he loves his mom.

-i trust him. he’s trustworthy and faithful. he trusts me.

-i believe in him. he believes in me.

-he’s proud of me. i’m proud of him.

-we inspire each other.

-we have so much fun together.

-i’m not shy around him. i can be my true self around him.

-he barely drinks or doesn’t drink, is a non smoker, and is drug free.

-neither one of us has any desire to cheat.

-he loves me so much! he’s crazy about me and i’m crazy about him.

-we make stuff together.

-we genuinely like each others family and friends. it’s fun and warm and easy.

-he’s super sexy and has that ‘bad boy’ cool factor that i need in a guy.

-he’s really confident, but not to the point of being an unlikable, arrogant, ego maniacal prick.

-he’s a master at what he does.

-he’s smart, talented, and well-traveled. we learn from each other.

-he respects women. he’s not a misogynist.

-our relationship is fun and easy and passionate all at once.

-it’s not a battle of egos.

-we are so happy together, and communicate really well.

-he’s completely emotionally and physically available to me.

-he’s really healthy. but not to the point of being annoying and rigid.

-he has lots of energy, a great sex drive, and lots of stamina.

-he’s in a good mood more so than not.

-he doesn’t take his problems out on me. we talk about them, but he doesn’t unfairly lash out.

-he loves coffee.

-he’s romantic.

-he’s a gentleman.

-he’s ok with me potentially never wanting to get married.

-he’s ok with me potentially wanting to get married.

-he would make a good father… if i decide i ever want to have kids (i do, i think. just one… a LONG time from now)

-he wants marriage and kids.

-he lives in la.

-he’s not an angry guy.

-he’s very confident in who he is, what he wants, and how to go about getting it.

-he’s responsible: with his actions, his choices, my feelings, other people’s feelings, etc. he doesn’t play mind games.

-he’s good with money, but not cheap.

-he makes me so happy. i make him so happy.

-he isn’t a moody, passive aggressive, a control freak, or a man-child.

-he isn’t super religious. (spiritual and believing in god is fine)

-he has great taste.

-he has good morals. he has a strong moral compass. but this doesn’t mean he’s a nerdy, boring, dork who isn’t a badass/rock n roll.

-he isn’t the type of guy who needs to be mothered.

-the relationship isn’t difficult. it makes our lives better. it’s a blend of the kind of love you feel when you’re a teenager and your heart beats crazy fast and you draw hearts with your names in it on notebook paper, mixed with the responsibilities of adulthood. an epic balance of sex, love, passion, work, friendship & remembering who we are as individuals, but when we come together we’re even stronger and we make people who see us together believe in love!


be my valentine?

somebody to be good for: i wrote this a few years ago…


i’ve been toying with the idea of being this guys girlfriend for the past month. i do like him, so i said yes when he asked me to be exclusive, but i’m so busy and really just want to be alone… but i don’t want to lose him. in the span of 24 hours i vacillate between being repulsed by him, to fantasizing about moving to new york together, to being numb, to wanting to make a baby, to being a little annoyed, etc.

tonight as i got out of the bath and put on my acne medication and creams and potions and looked at myself naked in the mirror, i thought about how I’ve been going to the gym lately and how i might even keep it up cuz i have a newfound incentive to be naked way more now than when i was single. if you can believe that! i know! something about having a boyfriend makes me happy, a bit more peppy. i like the idea of having someone to be good for. someone to keep me in check. someone to impress. someone to take care of, someone to love, someone to check in with, someone to depend on, someone who cares, someone to be my best for, look sexy/cute for.

but ultimately the person i aim to please is me.

i mean, this guy is great, but it’s always really about me. am i  ready for a serious relationship again? they take so much energy. they can be exhausting. fuck, i just got out of a serious relationship four months prior to meeting this guy… but the way it started with this guy was so magical.

but now, about a month and a week in, i realized that we don’t really even know each other. i’m not sure what i really like about him. and some of his personality traits are super annoying. he makes up silly songs that make me cringe. all i want them to do is make me laugh, but they make me cringe. i’m sorry. it’s just how i feel. it’s my gut reaction. i don’t want to feel this way. i want to be happy. i mean, don’t i? maybe i’ll always have a problem with people. whoops, i don’t mean people. i mean: the men who try to love me. the men i love, who love me back. can i even trust my own judgement anymore? i just don’t know.

we operate under the idea that someone perfect is out there for us. is that just bullshit? how much compromise is too much compromise? what’s important? what annoying things are break-up worthy, and what are just things we should accept? how should we weigh the pros and cons? obvi: being abused is a deal breaker! i’m not questioning that. i’m talking about little things, the tiny nuances that make you cringe/turn you off/make you feel alone/alienated/misunderstood/confused. cosmopolitan problems and aspects that don’t affect people who have arranged marriages.

i’ll be fine, whatever happens. i just don’t know how many more times i can do this; go from the joy of the first encounter. the perfection. to the first fight that leads to the second and the third and ultimately what makes up the demise of the relationship.

how much work is it supposed to be?

but i’m thinking too much now. as usual. i’ll know when i know. it’ll play out the way it’s supposed to.


and now i am single.

i’m happy to be alone again. it’s for the best. but i am alone.

being single is one of the best things in the world. you can eat whatever, whenever, and however you like. you don’t have to check in with anyone, or be held accountable to anyone. you can work all hours, see your friends, travel, get all your errands done (couldn’t i have done that in my relationship too though? hmm)

but then those moments of loneliness can creep up on you. those are the moments when…

and now, even though i’m single, i don’t want to be naked for anyone.

i’m single again. i wanted to be. but as single as i’ve ever been, i’ve never been as NOT in the mood to have a fling as i am now. i’m even trying to keep from being naked in front of someone by sabotaging myself. i’ll get to that in a bit…

give me a few days, and i MIGHT be in the mood for a casual make out. at least some sort of public, outdoor rendezvous; on a street corner (something not confined to a bedroom), or maybe a kiss inside or leaning up against my car. which reminds me, i really want to get a prius.

just as sure as i am the next man i’ll date will drive a black prius or a black range rover, i KNOW my next car will be a pewter colored prius. it’s just something i’ve had in the back of my mind for the past seven years! i have a strict no leasing policy in my heart… cuz suze orman says it’s totally bad news to lease, but it seems like everyone in LA leases! i’d rather buy outright! wait, how the fuck did my rant turn into a one-sided discussion on cars? are you witnessing me become A-sexual?

back to sexy stuff.  my being numb, emotionally unavailable, and completely uninterested in sex has resulted in picking at my back, face, and over tweezing parts of my body until it could be considered ‘home surgery’. which i’m doing on purpose so my body isn’t up to par for a nakedess encounter. i’m damaging myself so i’ll HAVE to take the time to heal and avoid the embarrassment of being seen by the next person i let inside of me… whoever they might be.

i need to exercise some self-control. but it’s as if i’m in a trance. hopefully the new dresses i bought at urban will be enough incentive to keep my hands off myself,  not in the GOOD way!

i’ve been taking epsom salt baths (to relax my anxiety and heal). during one of these baths the other night, i decided that full retro bush/privates is the way to go this spring… and then i immediately shaved everything off my privates! WTF? i ALREADY know i’m my own worst enemy, but this is insane.

so now i’m mourning the death of and honoring time i spent in a relationship with someone i may not have even liked.

next time i’ll be more discerning with who i let get close to me, with who i let myself fall in love with. um, will i? nope. that shit just happens. but i don’t have to be scared about having an open heart and falling madly and passionately in love at the drop of a hat, as long as i always follow my gut and intuition and not waste my time as soon as i/if i fall out of love! having made a pact like that with myself makes me feel pretty safe about living my life and falling in love. (no matter how old i get. baby, no baby. marriage, no marriage.) i’m always safe. i’ll always be ok. i just have to trust that everything is exactly the way it needs to be.

i promise to keep my heart open, not be bitter, and always have a childlike enthusiasm as i keep my eyes open/look for the next person i’ll have a love affair with. because as good as it feels to be single, and as bad as it feels to be with the wrong person, when it’s right (even if only for a few months) it’s so nice to have someone to be good for.


so many girls…

I’ve been so many different girls. I’ve been the girl the guy doesn’t care about, who meet her at a bar for a date and it ends in a make out in his car- meaningless and nothing. I’ve been the unattainable girl, the rebound, the girl with a puppy-dog crush, the crazy girl, the desperate girl, the dork, and the heartbreaker. I’ve been a bitch, and a sweetheart, and considered goth or mod or hipster. I’ve been the weird girl, the fancy girl, the fashiony city girl, the naïve girl. All depending on whose eyes are looking at me; Whose eyes I’m being seen through. I’ve been the starfucker, the band fucker, the girl who only dates rock stars or drummers, the girl who only wants to date rich guys or at least a guy who owns a car, the girl who doesn’t care what a guy looks like, the girl who settles, the girl who isn’t picky enough, the girl who’s too picky, the girl who only likes funny guys, the girl who only likes young guys. I’ve been the girl whose a prude- not sexually, never sexually… but alcohol and drug- wise. I’ve been the flirt, the tease, the confusing girl who leads guys on. I’ve been the mean girl, the cold girl, the girl with daddy issues, the elusive butterfly. all the while, the only variable being the man who was looking at me. and the only constant being me. so I guess when I find the right guy, whatever that means, I’ll know because I’ll be the truest, happiest, best, most balanced version of myself. I’ll be the person I am when I’m all alone, or with friends… only more loved, and, um, not alone… and maybe even contradict myself a little less.

letter to an ex:

You asked me to write you a letter telling you all the things that bothered me about you while we were dating. all the things i feel you need to work on/look at with your new therapist, and at the very least… acknowledge. here’s the letter:

Dear Boy,

It isn’t easy to come up with things that i think you should work on. i love you and think you’re great, so it just feels weird to do this. but hmm, thinking back, let me see:

•you seem to have this idea about yourself that you scam the good stuff that happens to you. as if it couldn’t just be real. you mentioned this before. as if you have the impression that you con people to hire you or into thinking you’re qualified. like you scammed them or something.

•your sense of humor (which i love) could be insensitive with all the sarcasm. and sometimes instead of funny, it was more like a defense mechanism that kept you from getting close to a person and being vulnerable.

•when i was emotional, you shut off and went blank/cold/numb/quiet… and the more silent and less you gave the crazier i got because i just wanted you to hold me and say i love you and make it better. but i have my own problems. i know this.

•sometimes you seemed to be cocky/on the verge of coming across as full of shit or arrogant.

•it took a while for you to be ok with kissing me in public… which was insulting. but i saw you got better/ you got over it.

•instead of just doing what you needed to do, work or life wise, you’d make these grand statements to me about how much work you had to do and that you had to focus and we couldn’t spend as much time together because you had all this stuff to do. it would have been better if you just did what you needed to do and called me when you were free. i didn’t need a lecture or sit down to hear the your state of address. just live your life and i’ll live mine and we’ll meet in the middle. but you had to lay it all out for me. making yourself so important. over and over.

•it was sooo much about work. all our talk became about your work or mine. the beauty and whimsy was squashed. everything bled into everything else. and it was all about stress.

•you went to ny and knew we weren’t ok, but you shut down. you didn’t want to talk about it or deal with it. when you DID call me while you were in ny, you were out and busy. why did you bother calling if you couldn’t talk? this frustrated me. you were dodging me and pretending you were making an effort. then shit talking about me to your friends. when you were the one who was freaking out because you didn’t have it in you to deal with me emotionally. all we had to do was talk.

•we weren’t on the same page as far as what kind of life we want to have in the future. not just marriage and ring stuff. you seemed like you were lost and unsure. and as a man, i needed you to be more of a rock. but those are also my own problems. i know men aren’t perfect. there is no such thing as ‘perfect’. we’re all just people, i know this. and i have a tendency to put guys on a pedestal and watch them fall. but when push came to shove, you weren’t what i needed.

•you went to a club when i was sick. you wanted to leave. i felt really abandoned. i thought you loved me.

•you’d be overwhelmed and break down and curl up in a ball and need to re-evaluate your life every week.

•it seemed like you couldn’t quite figure out what it is that you love to do.

•you operate in extremes. everything is raw this month. no coffee forever. no alcohol. no meat.

•saying that you didn’t want to make out when i had my period; ‘what’s the point?’

•you were shy about your body and seemed a bit closed off about sex and taking a bath or shower together. and you didn’t like your butt or want to walk around naked or even let me see your backside walking away from me.

•you are all about you. computer in bed in morning. shut off, very clear that you were done with the romantic portion of our time. painfully compartmentalized.

•getting drunk and eating all my food and yours like a slob at a dinner with your friends… then drunkenly wandering off. making me the night all about you and forcing everyone at the table to cringe and say ‘what’s wrong with him?’

•physical body issues, sarcasm beyond belief, pda issues, unable to deal with a girlfriends emotion to the point of shutting down and freezing up.

•you smashed my bike. you were upset. still isn’t cool.

•even now, post break up, if/when i run into your friends and your name comes up… if i mention some of your habits like sarcasm and selfishness, they laugh and say ‘yep that’s how he is. i can totally relate.’

•even now, post break up, you wanted to be friends. i read lines with you for some audition you had, and you’re not even an actor. i skyped you less than two minutes after you emailing me from australia about being depressed over some new girl you were in love with. i talked you down and made time for you. but the minute i call you and/or text you that i’m in a dark place… nothing. i call and you pick up when you can’t talk… all to say ‘now’s a bad time.’ again, why’d you even pick up? selfish.

•you broke up with me over the phone, ending something that was so special with no dignity or respect. like a total fucking pussy bitch. i would never do that to someone i loved and said i wanted to be with forever. someone who held my hand and slept in my hospital room and watched over me after surgery.

i never cheated on you. i loved you. it didn’t work out. i hope this helps.

love, alexi celine wasser

your body tells a story:

everything about you tells a story. your smell, your clothes, how you move, the hickey on your neck, the bruises on your thighs, the scrapes & scabs on your knees, how you put yourself together, what you sound like; your inflections/cadence/tone/pitch. your facial expressions, handwriting, the words/thoughts/ideas you choose to express. the shape of your body tells a story too. Do you binge eat to squash hurt? Are you anorexic or bulimic to control something in your life, because something else/something bigger/more major in your life is out of your control? Do you want to lose five to ten pounds to reach whatever you’ve decided your arbitrary goal weight is, but you can’t, you won’t, you subconsciously refuse to do it/won’t let yourself, cuz the weight is your padding/a symbolic crutch? It makes you feel safe and stands in your way from ever reaching any idea you had of what perfection might be, cuz you think you wouldn’t be able to handle it when you got there or maintain it if you did, or that maybe you’d still be unhappy if you got there? just something i was thinking about. i love you.

acting out (part 2):



i wasn’t drinking. i had to wake up early the next day for work stuff (and a 12:15 appt that i’ll tell you about later), and i knew better than to get swept away by a boy, let alone one i’d only JUST met, and ruin my life-  even if my definition of ‘ruining my life’ is being sleepy for a meeting, it’s still cause for resentment, and i don’t let that happen anymore. i like to take care of me first- which ultimately gives the relationship in question the BEST shot it can have. he was leaving the bar and asked me if i wanted to go to some club that he and his friends were going to, i said i couldn’t. but as we walked outside, his friends went one way and he just kept walking with me. or maybe they were never there. maybe he was gonna meet up with them? who knows? i can’t remember, but i’m so honest and detail oriented i want to be exact with you. we walked down the street in the direction of my hotel. he told me some exciting news about his friend. i wasn’t sure if it was real or if he was just making bullshit talk. gawd. my self awareness/over-thinking/and trust issues can really kill the mood/be detrimental. at least i kept this thought to myself though. one of few.

he asked me if i wanted to pop into a club we were passing. i said ‘sure, I’ll have a peek inside’. i mean, as long as i wasn’t drinking i could peek inside a club for like fifteen minutes tops! as soon as we walked in, the music was blaring and as if i were with my best male platonic friend (who, btw, was off gallivanting somewhere else in nyc, doing god knows what. we weren’t sharing a hotel anymore, so i was off on my own, with a hotel room all to myself too! i couldn’t wait to give my male bff the recap of the adventures i was collecting. oh, and to hear his or whatevs. even though our dynamic is very much a me sorta listening to him, but really just waiting to speak kinda thing… and he totally indulges me! cuz that’s what true friendship is all about, right?) i started dancing like a crazy lil kid. super unselfconscious. i was so proud of myself. i could have so easily turned inward and been shy and stunted by fear and a need for this guy to like me and not judge me. which is funny, cuz i feel like the person who doesn’t dance is way more of a dork and more likely to be judged harshly than the person who doesn’t give a fuck. but fear is a real thing and affects people. thank god i wasn’t that person that night. and very rarely am. we danced. he danced like a silly little kid too. it was epic. i could see in his face that he was so happy i wasn’t some girl who’s too self conscious. we danced for exactly fifteen minutes, grabbed our stuff and got the fuck out of there. except for us, it was filled with a Kardashian vibe meets Jersey shore esque crew. there IS a difference. it’s subtle, but it’s real.

as we continued our walk towards my hotel, i muttered this and that. shit about my height and nonsense like that. i get very self conscious and vocal about being taller than a guy. i don’t like it.  i’m 5’11 and i want the boys/men/guys i date to be my height or taller. he was taller than me, but maybe his being so thin made me second guess his height. either way, there was no need for me to be so vocal about all the chatter in my brain, but my filter isn’t up to code and i am a compulsive over-sharer because of it. geeze, what happened to that unselfconscious girl in the club only seven minutes prior? who knows? i’m comprised of many different parts. and as i blabbed, and as i occasionally, finally shut the fuck up, and as i nervously sat in the uncomfortableness of that silence/cuz silence can be so very uncomfortable/and just looked over at him while i smiled occasionally, i thought- wow, he’s gorgeous. i wonder if he likes me. this is really nice. all the while wondering when we’d kiss.

at one point i got super self conscious of my nose running, i have horrible allergies, and i told him that i might have to look in my mirror to make sure my nose was ok and that he should avert his eyes, cuz i was not proud of the fact that i felt compelled to look at myself. but before i allowed myself to grab my compact from my purse, he told me i was fine. and i believed him. he was so solid in the delivery of that sentence. he was so all knowing and way more centered and calm than me. booze? no. maybe he was always this calm cool and collected? he said my face was fine. everything was in order. and that it wouldn’t matter: if there was something on my face, if i was missing a finger… it wouldn’t matter. i loved how confident he was. i loved that he made me feel like a girl. ‘really?’ i said. ‘yeah. should i bite off your finger to prove it?’ i said ‘ok.’ and put my hand in his. he put my finger in my mouth and bit down… lightly. we looked at eachother, and then he gave me back my finger. that was one of my favorite moments.

somehow he turned into me and gently pushed me against a wall to kiss me. i worried it wasn’t good. again, i was too in my head. i thought about the size of his mouth, his lips. wondering if he was happy with the kiss, wondering if he’d think it was my fault if it wasn’t epic. but then i just shushed my brain and just kissed him. i was in nyc making out with a beautiful boy. we continued walking. i took his hand as we passed a bench and pulled him down to sit next to me. we kissed there. people walked past us. we got back up and walked some more. i was nervous to hold his hand cuz i was scared he wouldn’t let me, or be weirded out by it, or try to get out of it, or think i liked him too much or was coming on to strong, or was annoying or clingy or needy or thinking this was something that it wasn’t and would never be. i go out of my way to think for everyone involved. can you tell? in a perfect world, or just a future me, i’d like to just do what i want to do and take the chance of being vulnerable and not worry about it and just wait and see how the other person reacts. then i’ll see who i’m dealing with. then i’ll let the person show who they are, instead of me thinking for them/deciding for them. it’s getting to be too much for me. i want it to stop! but, all that aside, we continues kissing. this youthful, romantic, ‘who knows where the night will take you… oh wow, now i’m kissing a stranger as i meander the streets of soho’ was exactly what i needed. something innocent and sweet that made me feel like i was sixteen again. and then we were at my hotel.

i was half not wanting him to come upstairs and half wanting him to. i thought maybe i could get away with just having him walk me to my hotel room door? we kissed in the elevator. and before i knew it i was letting him into my room. ahhh! i wanted him there, but i was so not ready for this. i was so at odds with myself cuz i wanted to be responsible and get enough sleep for the meetings i had the following day. immediately as we walked in , i saw my bff had left the most horrific portrait of the two of us that we’d had done in central park the day before, prominently displayed leaning againg the wall! i covertly turned it around before dude could notice. i mean, who cares? but i cared.

i climbed on the bed, he climbed on top of me, his hat falling off. wow, this guys hair really was curly. i was wearing stockings. sometimes i feel like these are a life saver in slowing things down during a makeout sesh/sexy time rendezvous. one more layer to take off. the funny thing is though, dude wasn’t wearing undies, which i’ve noticed a couple boys i’ve rolled around with don’t do. which i think is sexy- but my platonic male bff thinks is gross cuz it makes your jeans smell bad since everybody knows you don’t fucking wash your jeans ( and my bff ALSO thinks a guy wearing undies (he’s not gay, by ‘guy’ he means himself in the scenario) is sexier because it means biding your time and (just like how i feel about my stockings) it’s one more layer to remove, prolonging sexy time adventures. what do you prefer? i like dirty young dudes (‘dirty’ in the sexually nasty sense of the word) who don’t give a fuck and the minute you unbutton their jeans, their dick is all hard and right there! it’s sooo fucking sexxxay! either that or calvin klein undies. but that’s neither here nor there, my bff just doesn’t understand. we’ll have to agree to disagree. i mean, he’s not gay so, he doesn’t really even have to worry about it. unless he comes across some girl in jeans who never wears undies. would that be just as gross?? why or why not? ANYWAYS!

We flopped onto the bed and started kissing. I was wearing a short dress and stockings.  He unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants, but I kept everything on. It wasn’t gonna be that kind of night. I mean, it was, but it wasn’t. I was so conflicted about having invited him into my hotel room- knowing I didn’t want to have sex with him. Or not that I didn’t want to/i just wasn’t gonna. I know these were mixed signals to a boy. But isn’t ‘just making out’ allowed anymore? Everything moves so fucking fast. And I definitly don’t help slow it down. I just wanted to kiss and roll around and continue talking and being around him. He seemed so wise beyond his years, and from what he told me about his past, and his parents, and his work, I was intrigued by who he was/might be- considering all he’s experienced. Plus he looked like he was straight out of ‘the warriors’. He had this quiet intensity, but not the kind where it turns out the dude has nothing going on in his brain after all. i could just tell he was smart and special.

After some more kissing and boobie suckling and him trying over and over again to touch, kiss, lick my privates- he told me I seemed ‘sooooo stressed’. I said ‘why? how come? How was I supposed to look? Like this?’ Then I pretended to pass out with my tongue sticking out of the side of my mouth. Of course I was stressed. I’d invited a stranger into my hotel room, it was late, and I had so much to do the next day. I tried to loosen up, mentally not vaginally, and live in the moment. I remembered to breath. I said ‘you caught me on the wrong day’. I realized by the expression on his face that he had no idea what I was talking about. Either that, or I think he thought I meant I was having my period (which I wasn’t). I told him that my therapist had recently told me I should try to slow down how fast I move sexually (which was/is completely true). And it was (kinda) gonna start with him.

He flipped over, off of me, in mock exasperation. I smiled and said ‘Is this a guys worst nightmare; Being half naked, laying in a bed with a girl and then she starts talking about her therapist?’ if i were a dude; it would be, could be, might be. or maybe i’d think it was adorably charming! He laughed. He didn’t mind. he said he liked the challenge of sexxing me. He seemed intrigued and confused by me. Then we spooned. During moments of silence, I burst out saying ‘I need you to know how hard it is for me NOT to talk.’ He told me to talk, that he likes talking.’ And as simple and ridiculous as that sentence was, it made me feel so happy… Cuz I love to talk way toooo much about all the nonsense going on in my brain. Especially laying in bed with a boy (if we’re not kissing or sexxxing, and sometimes even then). So we talked. We talked about his family, and a friend of his I’d met earlier at the bar, and his work, etc.

Really, what I think i needed all along was this: intimacy. i needed to be next to someone. i needed to be in someones arms, in a pg 13 type manner. so we talked and laughed and kissed and he pretended to explain to my therapist why I should have sex with him. it was super cute. I just laughed. He really was goodlooking. I think he said something about being in la in the next few months, but I rolled my eyes in typical self defense mode to let him know I wasn’t falling for that or I wasn’t gonna look forward to it or some nonsense like that or whatever the fuck I was doing. It was 3am and after putting it off over and over again, I said he really did have to leave cuz I had to wake up so early (it woulda been impossible for me to relax and get real sleep if he spent the night). He kissed me, and said it wasn’t easy for him to leave me. and in the spirit of beginning to let myself be vulnerable and just allow myself to be soft and not always on the defense, i told him it wasn’t easy for me to say goodbye to him either and that i had such a nice time. we made some silly facebook jokey banter about how he’d friend me on facebook. And I leaned out the door and said, ‘I’m at friendship capacity, so write me a message first and I’ll friend you‘. modern romance, 2011 styles. And then I went to sleep… Having not had sex with a relative stranger in New York City. Phew! I did it! My therapist would be so proud.