a hard place (no pun intended)

after, happy hour drinks with the Arabian Night and a quite possible serial dating run-in with mr. pancakes and the arabian night on the streets of sf, i said sianara to mes hommes for the weekend and bonjour to the real men that run this city--the gays.

it was my friend's bday for the weekend, and we were headed out to the land flowing with grapes and booze- napa! as we drove across the golden gate--"kesha" blasting through the speakers of the party bus--i thought to myself, "no better way to spend a saturday afternoon" than cutting a rug on a bus with a stripper pole, mimosa in hand and my besties all around. could leaving the single life and getting exclusive mean sacrificing these great times? yes, i know these weekends will always continue to occur but if there is a relationship on the horizon, could I become too lovesick to actually enjoy the "wild times" away from the significant other? relationship can sometimes mean old married couple.


napa was complete with wine tasting in the sun, rolling around in the high grasses of the vineyard, and of course the ever-so unforgettable drunken acts that could have landed us all in the marin county gazette. (yes, i am classy but also love to have a good time :)) all in all a fabulosity at its finest.

as the trip wound down, we headed back to the city. empty bottles rolled around the bus as heads nodded off. a few people continued to dance and sing as the bus sat in traffic. and i was actually readyto keep the party rolling, despite my bodily fatigue. the last winery had slightly put me a bit over the edge. as i stumbled back to my seat after my last ode to spice girls, i looked around me. it appeared that all of us singles were still roaring and ready to go. a few were texting and seeing what was going on on the other side of the bridge, urgently making plans for "the next big thing." but as i looked around at the couples (gay, straight, whatever), something hit me. they were all quite cute--cuddling, i.e. one holding the other while he/she was passed out; egregiously m.o.ing, or just having deep drunken conversation. but they all had one thing in common. they looked so comfortable and satisfied with where they were and who they were with.


maybe it was the wine rushing throug their blood vessels. maybe it was the rolling hills of napa. but they all seemed quite content (while the single ones looked around anxiously, waiting to get back to the city and jump on the next big thing). so what did i want? where did i fit? in all honesty, there was actually apart of me that wished there was someone there to hold me in my drunken stupor. then why didn't i call mr. pancakes? why did i go out and party until 3 a.m.?

maybe i'm a bit of a rock in a hard place... a rebel... or maybe i'm just scared of comfort.

ADH