Prologue: When I was a florist there, somehow my florist connections (i.e. giving daisies to the House of Blues security guard who drank on a regular basis at the bar next door) got me free passes to see MosDef. I brought Jessica and Clare, and it all ended in me going back to the hotel with the tour DJ... this idiot. I slept with him (yup - I was only mildly irritated with my friends for turning me over to him drunk in fact. It just wasn't a big deal to me back then) but then the next morning, he wanted me to screw him again... of course. And I didn't want to -- I was hungover and not ready to wake up. At this point he put his hand in the air parallel to the ground just above his eye level and announced "My respect for you used to be about here..." Then, he lowered his hand to below his waist, "Now it's about here." I said something like "You're telling me you respect me less because I don't want to have sex right now. What a crock. This isn't about respect. " Then he called me ugly names. I went home and crawled in bed with Jessica and I think this is probably the morning that we began calling eachother "Bunny" and "Muffin." I am embarassed by this story. I would never have brought it up since it's a blessing how my frivolity didn't cost me any more than names but...
AS IT RELATES TO...: So before I left LA, I started sleeping with a DJ/producer who's now super famous except I was then a teacher not a florist, and I had already had a few LA sex experiences, like the one above for example, and I thought this person with this just-hit amazing album seemed sweet and different, but I still knew enough to be uninvested. And I'd just broken up with someone with whom the sex was great and close so I wasn't really feeling it with DJ anyway. He was pretty inexperienced. And he was impressed by my not expecting a relationship just because we occasionally got together. I usually went to his place because he lived down the street from the shcool where I taught. We got a hotel for our last date and watched the Olympics, ate take-out. I was a little put off by him to tell the truth... he'd do things that reminded me of that other MosDef's DJ asshole, eventhough he wasn't idiotic or mean like that guy at all. But sex-wise, he was very non-communicative and sort of just nudged me toward what he wanted, and I was sorta "yuck" -- but it got better; it even got good... and I totally admired his talent.
2 years later... two and half, we get reacquainted and... can I keep this short and just tell my epiphany? ... eventaully he disses me in a hotel room too, certainly not with ugly names; he just told me that he didn't think about me, really. And I tried to stay calm but didn't fool anyone.... but it was much worse than with MD DJ, because, thanks to a night together on ecstasy (last done in you-know-where), I thought big star and I were friends (and that I was in love with him, which felt stupid as soon as I felt it.) I've been feeling shitty about this hotel diss for WEEKS.. but the major epiphany is OH MY GOD.... this is the whole reason I left LA and, okay, eventhough he has fame and fortune, and certain insight you wouldn't expect from him necessarily, I don't even want to have sex with people who think they have the right to determine how it all goes down in a hotel room! I was very upset thinking I forgot all the lessons I learned in LA, but I guess I didn't forget as much as he just changed, or became what he was already on the way to becoming. You can't expect anything else from him. God knows to acheive all that your ego has to be huge and if it were me I'd be the same. And I've changed too. But fact remains, now that he's big, he thinks he calls all the shots in the hotel room. (for your pleasure, some sample hotel breakdown dialogue. Me: "See the thing is you're famous." He: "Don't call me famous. Because that makes me think..." Me: "But that's reality!" <--- things degenerated from here into massive neediness on my part and major fear on his.) The thing I forgot was that it was obvious that he would change this way. I knew this when I was 23, and I'm 26 now, but whatever. There's nothing so awfully wrong about remembering the danger inherent.
I have to get back to work. But I'm so happy right now realizing all this.
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All the above is true enough. ther is also something going on with me and guys who are sexy but emotionally unavailable. Erasing all issues of fame, some will remember the head trip I once went through over a boy who lived in a tent. I seem to crush hard for immature boys I hide the depth of myself from - until some moment arises where some switch flips and I can't hide a thing, including my sappy mess part, and my intense-eyes strong intent side and that settles that. What a miracle it will be if noticing leads to avoiding.
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