sex lies and scotchtape.

So here's what I'm thinking:

I'm thinking maybe I can design a machine or something that'll take my thoughts and create a world from them, like my own private heaven, only interactive, so I could invite friends in now and again. But for the most part I'll just crawl in and live out all those million and one sordid fantasies that won't ever come true in real life.

(Oh Geez. He's on an Angelina rant...AGAIN.) Cynics! No, alas and alack, this is not an Angelina. This is...

...a Renée rant.

Yeah, I think this is the first time I wrote on this thing about her, but this woman. This DIVINE CREATURE. Has been dominating the shadowy flamescapes of my carnal thoughts for the last...god, how many weeks?

Who: Renée, last name not revealed to protect the identity of the innocent...and, in the case of the miniscule (like 0.0000000001%) chance that Renée surfs onto this site, she will not immediately guess who I am, and that I'm drooling about her.

(It'll take her 0.5 seconds to make that connection.)

Let me start again.

Who: Renée.

What: Senior resident. Sex goddess.

When: NOW. Last x months. Forever! Always. GUH.

Where: San Francisco. UCSF.


Now that. Is an interesting question.

How did this start? God knows. It's one of those things. Love is not blind, but love does have a way of sneaking up on you. Not that this is love, I don't think. More like a mad infatuation/lust. I've been working under her for months - since like late August/early Sept, in fact, and she's my supervising senior resident - and somewhere along the way, I fell madly, completely, totally in lust with this woman.

Stats: brownish hair, hazel eyes, ~30, 5'6" maybe, not terribly curvy, not a supermodel. Not simpering, not flirtatious...kinda cynical and wry, with a foul mouth and an utterly ADORABLE way of putting her fingertips over her mouth, opening her eyes wide, and ducking her head exaggerated-like whenever one of the bigwigs pass by and scowl at her for saying, for example, "God-dammit, that perverted dickhead in room 1827 wants another spongebath."

Not, mind you, that she ever said anything like that. But you get the point.

So, that's her. Not gorgeous. Not nymphlike. Not swanlike. Not virginal and youthful. Not smouldering and experienced. Not elegant. Not even polite. All in all...rather average.


Hot as ALL hell.

My GOD! I would give years off my life for this woman! For the past month or two, I've been unable to concentrate on anything she tried to teach us (us being the first-year residents), simply because I found myself staring fixedly at her (when she's lecturing you, though, you have a reason to) and trying alternately to figure out:

1) Why she's so sexy, and

2) Just how her mouth would feel against mine. And whether her breasts are firm or delightfully soft. Whether her back would bend sweetly, or if she was more rigid, more (sexxxxxual) tension there. What sort of sounds she would make in bed, for chrissakes. Screamer? silent? moaner? whimperer?

So by now, everyone's like, why the fuck don't you just ask her out, right? The answer, ladies and gentlemen, is simple.





I'm going to lose my mind. I'm not kidding. I'm gonna FLIP over this girl. It's NOT FAIR that she's so freakin hot when I can't figure out WHY she's hot (ask me about ANYONE else and I could tell you. Lisa? Elegance. Style. Trim sleek waist. Long blonde hair. Rowrr. Sara? Dear god. Unmentionable. The things she did..! Latisha? DANCED like a GODDESS. Michelle? Had that sorta laugh that made you wanna lock yourself in a room with her for the next 139148606 years. ANGELINA, for crying out loud? Eyes. Lips. That easeful casual sexual confidence of hers.), and it's even MORE not fair that she's engaged.

So there I was, for weeks and weeks, silently pining. Augh. Weeks and MONTHS! All the while I worked under her day after day after day, grinning, cracking jokes, taking it easy, taking it smooth. Talking about Final fucking Fantasy 7 (which she happens to be playing right now...hmm...maybe that's where the attraction began...god I can be such a geek. heh!), me giving her little tips and whatnot. And all the while I couldn't, freakin!, think, straight when she leaned across me and pointed at something or other on whatever chart I happened to be looking at.

Right, but I survived it. I pulled through. End of the rotation. Moving on. Last day was today. Yesterday, actually, since it's officially wednesday, and has been for the last three ours.

Hours, I meant.

So. We were done by 3pm, actually. Easy day. She let us scamper home early and did all sortsa crazy extra time to handle all our appointments (so nice...). We ended up in some crazy theological debate that took up 2 hours (don't ask) and then finally, when we were all filing out, me and a half-dozen other first-years under her command, a miracle, or a curse, depending on how I look at it, happened.

You gotta picture this, see. It's a room, there's a door. Me heading for door, coupla folks in front of me, one or two in back. Flurry of goodbyes. Laughing, chuckling, friendly feelings.

And right as I'm heading out.

She goes,

"Hey Damon!"

So I stop. Hand on door-handle, kinda turning, doing my raised-eyebrow-thang (I'm good at manipulating my eyebrows. Talent.). I go, "Yeah?"

She goes.

"Come back and see me sometime."

Me, internally: EEEEEEEE. Hallelujah and Ode to Joy. I felt like I was Jesus Christ walking on water.

Me, externally: Cool and unruffled as a glassy mountain lake in the winter.


And out I go. Get in my car. Sit in my car. Hyperfuckinventilate for the next ten minutes.

Go home.

Dwell on it.

Mull it over.

Think it over.

Take it out and turn it about like a new jacket. Put it on. Take it off. Put it down. Grin like a nincompoop. Scream (well, internally) with frustration. Weigh pros against cons.

Pro: HER.

Cons: 1) might get shot down like icarus in the sun. 2) Might end up in sordid one-night-stand that will leave both of us feeling guilty forever and ever. 3) Might end up with long relationship with my once-boss, and still superior, that eventually ends. 4) Extreme scenario: might end up MARRYING her.

And here it comes - just how calculating, cold, cynical and un-idealistic I really am. 1-3 will probably all end up with me living through hell for the next 3-5 years while she subtly hints to my betters that i'm a humongous jerk, and they should take pains to make life SUCK for me.

#4... It's lust. That's all it is.

I think?


Okay, it's fucking almost 4am and I have a long day tomorrow. I'm gonna quit thinking about this.