Happy Easter, peeps!
Now that the fog in my head is settling, I can relay the tale of my stupid night.

Ok, so like several peeps have been lamenting lately, I have not had a good fuck in a LONG time. Like >6mo. A few opportunities, I guess, a few "almosts" but it just never happened, for various reasons.
And I was sick of it.
So I decided to do something about it.
I usually don't do casual sex well b/c it fucks with my head, but in this case I thought I had it all figured out.
I had the perfect guy in mind... I've slept with him before so it wouldn't be random, and wouldn't "increase my number" and make me slutty. I know he's at least a little into me b/c he'll get in touch with me out of the blue once in a while to hang out. (He's got a thing for my tits.) He's hot enough that he can turn me on and the thought of sex with him doesn't turn my stomach. (and it was decent the other time.) And smart/funny/interesting enough that I can talk to him. But he's got enough issues about him that I don't want to date him (one being that he makes more than I do, lives rent-free, but is always totally broke which makes me wonder how big his weed habit REALLY is, and another that I think he's kind of homophobic which I can't tolerate), and am totally fine with it being just sex and I won't be sad if he doesn't call. [clarification- it's not the 'always broke' that bugs me. I just don't know HOW he's always broke when i'm not, and he makes more than me and has less expenses.]
Next-to-last time I saw him, I was still with the ex. But he wanted to cook me dinner. After making it clear that I was seeing someone, I agreed.
I got to his house, and he was shirtless, and high. (and hot).
We had a nice dinner, a few bottles of wine, and some flirty conversation, and left it at that.
And then I saw him again a while ago, and we slept together. Literally just slept, and spooned, and that was it. And I told him I wasn't sure if I was impressed or offended that he didn't try anything while i was drunk and naked and in his arms in bed. And he said he had no idea if I would have wanted anything, and didn't want to take advantage of me. But in the future, just to let him know.
Since then he has on several occasions let me know that it's my turn to cook him dinner, topless.

So, I invited him over.
He accepted, and commented on how he hasn't had sex in a long time. I figured we were on the same page.
I went to wegman's, got everything for dinner. Pasta Amatriciana. Awesome spicy pasta with pancetta. Easy and delicious. And salad and garlic bread.
Then he suggested that he come over earlier, like at 2, so we could have more time to hang out.
Now I wasn't sure if he really just wanted more time to hang out, or if he just wanted to "put his time in" so he could bolt as soon as dinner/sex was over- i dunno.
But then I had a hellish night at work (motorcycle accident, three shootings and a stab wound (on top of all the usual shit). I had hoped everyone would be at church and on their best behavior for good friday, but I was quite wrong), and I got NO sleep.
So I came home in the morning, cleaned up my house etc, and got maybe 1.5 hr nap.
So he comes over at 3.
Now mind you, I didn't not have the evening all scheduled out. But I guess I was sort of assuming that we'd chill for a while- maybe go for a walk if it was nice, then cook/eat dinner later. Hopefully fool around after that, and eventually go to bed. Almost (but not quite) more than the sex, I was looking forward to waking up (or at least falling asleep) in someone's arms. (yeah fine so I'm a sappy chick that likes to spoon).
Well he walks in and looks around and goes 'ummm... I don't see food."
wtf? I said 'well it's not really dinner time...'
And he said he hadn't eaten all day. Neither had I, but whatever. And he was starving. Not my fault he didn't eat lunch...
So I said I guess I could start cooking, but he was impatient. I don't have too much snack food in my house (trying to be good) but I offered him an apple. He said we could just go out. Which was kind of annoying, b/c I had bought all this stuff. Though he asked what I'd planned on making, and I said this awesome spicy pasta dish, and he was disappointed that it didn't have enough meat in it. And didn't like my choice of pasta (bucatini) since he likes angel hair. I said to just trust me. (nice, I invite you over for dinner and you criticize the menu.) So I told him to have a beer and chill.
Then he mentions that he's high and brought some, and said we could do that then walk down elmwood for food.
Now if I DO smoke I usually don't like going out in public, but I wasn't sure how well I'd be able to cook either. But it had been ages and ages so what the hell.
Well holy shit did I get retarded. To the point that I was talking and sort of hearing myself and thinking to myself, while talking, "what the fuck am I saying?" Or mid-sentence I would totally forget where I was going with my story. I hate that feeling. I hate the way it often makes me antisocial and paranoid. All I want to do is sit on the couch and eat chips and not talk.
No way in hell was I going ANYWHERE like that.
So I started to cook, and made a gigantic mess in the process. And I forgot the cheese for the garlic bread (since I don't usually do that but he requested it), and I skipped the salad since I wasn't sure how much I trusted myself with a knife.
And put one of my gorgeous filets out to defrost so he could have some damn meat. (which we never ate and it sat out all night and now I wonder if I have to throw it out, which would be a crying shame since it's a beautiful piece of meat and I was saving it.)
Anyway. So I made dinner which was delicious and he actually liked it after all. And we drank wine. And had beers. And I was way fucked up.
And we had weird conversation. I think.
But so eventually we were making out... then a little more... and then I was on the couch and was tired... and then I remember him saying he was leaving.
And I was so tired and fucked up (only running on 2hr sleep, remember) that I couldn't even put up a fight and just said "ok bye". Woke up later on the couch, sure it was like 8pm, and it was 2am.
Fortunately I had laid down the law with my interns, and was going in at 8 (like I wanted) not 6 (like they wanted).
So I woke up this morning for work, in a total haze. And thought of a recap of the night.
The final score-
Him- yummy dinner, great blowjob, no awkward goodbye.
Me- hangover, kitchen that looks like a warzone, a few minutes of not-great sex, no oral sex, no orgasm, no waking up in someone's arms.
He totally won that one.

WTF. How did that all go so wrong.
But I guess it's my fault for getting all fucked up. Or his for getting me all fucked up.

Oy. Maybe we'll try again someday. If he's still talking to me.