Keitou Shane

Was born to Tak and Naomi January 15, 2007 around 8:15 P.M. I’ve actually known since then, but wanted to post a picture after I had one. Isn’t he cute?

Infatuation – It’s Not Just for Teenagers

After a week of barely sleeping due to a sales conference (full of boring meetings during the day, parties at night that include drinking with the Brits, and late nights of delirious sex), I find I’m totally infatuated with a Brit who is charming, bloody sexy, smart and speaks with a British accent that cranks up the wetness factor (I just want to listen to it all day). Even curse words sound better coming from his mouth. When I saw him today, just before he left to go home, I swear a bolt of pleasure shot through me like wildfire and because we were at work, all I could really do was go talk to him and his cohorts and wish him a safe trip home, but what I wanted to do was haul him off to a secluded closet and get a last go.

What makes it worse is that he’s staying in SF tonight (to be closer to the airport for his flight tomorrow and let’s face it, SF is much more interesting than Fremont). And I know he’s there and I so want to go attack him for a last night. But he’s exhausted from this week (as am I) and I’m sure a night of sleep weighs heavily against more sex.

Even now, just thinking about him makes me want him naked in my bed. Damn Brits…

The Hot Guy Marketing Campaign…

So, you know when you see a hot guy somewhere-a bar, store, sporting event, whatever-and you make eye contact, maybe even chat a bit, but you’re too shy to actually give him your name and number because you don’t know if he’ll turn out to be a serial killer or worse, an asshole? Well, I’ve decided to implement Hot Guy cards. They contain an email pseudonym that allows me to let the guys I think are hot a way to contact me if they’re single and interested without needing to give them too much information, especially if I’m in a drunken state and have bad judgement.

The downside is that I can’t control what happens to the cards after I’ve handed them out. Hence the pseudonym email address. I’ll keep my two readers posted about how they work.

Now, I just have to try them out…

PMS is a Biatch

Feeling cranky, lonely, and unloved is only the beginning of PMS. The rest is cranky, head aches, and general bitchiness (did I mention cranky?) that I tend to coat in some humor for fear of ostracizing all humans within my area.

I think I should become a hermit for two or three days every month…


The definition of stupidity is the belief that you’re healed enough to have an email conversation with your ex only to find that all conversation leads to my wanting to hurt him in lots of evil ways. That’s very bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. I’m not ready to deal with him on an anything basis.

The Break-Up Diet

So, I discovered the coolest thing today. I found that I can pull my pants off without unbuttoning or unzipping them. If I didn’t wear a belt, I’d look like a home-boy, having to hold my pants up with one hand near my non-existant wang.

All credit must go to the break-up diet, which enabled me to not eat or sleep for two months. Maybe that’s why I keep torturing myself…

Happy New Year!

I had a really fun New Year’s eve dancing with friends (who also happen to be exotic dancers which I think is really cool and takes guts) to 80s tunes until 2:00 a.m. I met a ton of really cool people with interesting lifestyles both New Year’s eve and New Year’s day and hope to have more interaction with many of them. It’s amazing how much a drag queen complimenting you on your boots and sweater can make your day! =)

I haven’t made any resolutions for this year, since making any kind of plans at this point seems, well, pointless. I have no idea what life will throw at me next, but I figure the best way of dealing with it is in less debt and with options open.

I’ve also had a couple dates that went well. Granted it was with a 23 year old, but he’s adorable and let’s face it, dealing with someone a little more pliant than Georgios is never a bad thing. I don’t expect it to become anything serious, since neither of us want anything serious, but it’s great fun for now.

I’m hoping for a better year and the upcoming one is also the year of the Boar (aka Pig, sigh) which is my Chinese zodiac sign, so that makes me a bit more hopeful.

So, Happy New Year all two people who read this silly thing. Here’s to drinking champagne and meeting interesting people!