Plus my apartment situation is completely up in the air. They'll be here in two weeks and I literally have no idea where I'm going to be living exactly during that time. A little degrading. I'm not going to be homeless, and I actually know that I'll be in one of three established places, but it still looks pretty reckless and irresponsible.

My mom is a little peeved. Pop knew about the whole living debacle for a while, but didn't clue her in, and asked me not to either. She's going through some pretty complicated recovery sessions cause of intensive eye surgery, and he didn't want to add to her stress. She's a serious worry hound, I inherited a little of it. But, because of her constant prodding into the NYC trip plans, he had to leak it. I love the fact that she's a fiery crazy chick, but holy shit can she be stubborn. She works at a university in St.Louis, and the international students used to refer to her as "the curly headed stern person". She'll hold onto that grudge for a little while, and make sure Pop and I know it.

Still its fun running around the city with them.

I am also a little conflicted about my love life. For whatever reason women have been throwing themselves at me lately. I know I'm cute, but goddamn I don't think I'm that cute. This city must be going through a straight dick shortage. Anyway, lots of non committal sex. And while its enjoyable, I still would like some relationship stuff. Then again, I refuse to settle on a chick just cause she's there. I've made that mistake too many times in the past, and its extremely uncool, as well as a disaster in the making. I also have a nice list of "fuck buddies" who are cool to hang with, and we know what sex buttons to push, but we both know a commitment isn't in the cards. So I go on walking, after midnight.............

The requirements for a lifemate. Look, you gotta have some necessities in a partner. You want to go on through life sharing a bed with someone you don't respect, creeps you out, or basically can't enjoy their essence. Fuck no. Since I am a guy, physical stuff matters, we're visual creatures, like it or not, its a fact. I'm dealing with it, everybody else ought to as well. She has to be short (nothing taller than 5'8"), cute feet, nice smile (including supple ultra kissable lips), no fake anything (boobs, fingernails, hair, lips, etc), and she has to have a fairly tight pussy. I'll be honest here, I'm of average size, and if I can't feel the walls, my "enthusiasm" drops dramatically. She has to be an athiest, intellectual, well read, enjoys the fine arts, active, energetic - yet appreciates the chill times, smokes pot not cigarettes, will take the occassional mind expanding drug, good work ethic - including having a career life, doesn't want kids, into oral sex - receiving and giving, diverse tastes in music and food, and has to be in tune with my sense of humour. Long list? Sure. Unrealistic expectations? Maybe. But I have seen so many long term relationships that just didn't work because the partners didn't synch up, including people that are still married yet unhappy. I figure if I'm gonna be unhappy, I might as well do it by myself, with the occasional strange fuck thrown in. I refuse to settle for anything but a mostly positive relationship, with understandings straight off on what we both want in life. And if the relationship turns sour, her fault or mine, I will bail.