I got drunk and dreamed of vampires

I got drunk last night and had to go pass out.

I then had the following dream:

I go back to England. We're at some village and are staying in some large estate.

I try to talk to Paul but as usual he's very cold and seems to push me away. This all ends when I find out he's actually a vampire. And so are a lot of people around us. In our conversation, I find out that he pushes me away because he's a vampire and so couldn't share his true self with me. Me, being me, and feeling very intense feelings for him in the dream tell him to turn me.

I'm turned into a vampire, easily. I think it was a glass of wine or something. I'm sitting down at the time, while an older servant man hovers around me. He asks me if I'm ok while Paul stands back. I say I'm ok and just look at the room around me. Out of nowhere I start to see other people in the room. Some are quite solid, while others are a bit transparent.

This is when I freak out a bit and tell Paul and the servant I'm seeing ghosts. They say that that's normal. I guess vampires can see ghosts.

This changes my relationship with Paul completely. From that moment on we were connnected, or so I felt in the dream. He kept putting his arms around me and held me most of the time. He told me at some point that he hoped I lasted more than the others, to which I smiled and said I was going to be around forever.

The whole dream gets a little hazy after that. I know he kept holding me and we slept in the same bed, both things I had wanted Paul to do while I was in England with him.

Yeap, I have some interesting dreams.

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I told a guy at work I liked him

2.  Rich

I worked at a law firm for a couple of years but then got laid off. Thank you economy.  I then went on to work doing temporary work, after sitting at home for almost six months wondering how to juggle my bills with just unemployment and my dwindling savings. That's where I met Rich.

Let me just say that I was completely repulsed by Rich. He was tall, white, and I kept picturing him wearing Abercrombie & Fitch shirts, though work attire was business casual. Still, he just looked like every frat boy who walked the earth. He seemed mildly smart, a slight chip on his shoulder when it came to authority, obsessed with doing crossword puzzles, and with a giant Asian fetish. Let me point out that I've come to the conclusion that more than half the men in New York have some kind of Asian fetish.

Rich mostly talked to the Asian girls, simply being polite to the rest of us.   We had quite a few Asian girls: Japanese, Korean, Chinese, and Fillippino.   He'd take every smoke break with them, flirted with them, and went out after work with them. All this completely infuriated me. After all, why can't guys give us all a chance. Though in general I have issues with guys going out with me or other girls simply because of our ethnic traits (I include white girls in this as well because I remember a lot of Black guys in college going out with white girls only. Some then talking bullshit about white girls when amongst other minority students.)

So, I spent weeks seething over Rich's behavior.  When finally I opened my eyes and realized that me spending this much time hating him MUST mean that I actually liked him. That was the end of me!  After that, I couldn't even look in his direction much less at him. I was 11 again, if that old. I then made the huge mistake of telling the two girls around me about my torturing crush. These two girls knew each other from before and generally talked about everyone. But me being 11 again (at work at that!), I swore them to secrecy. They were my new allies, who not only were nice, but like good friends of mine then encouraged me to pour my feelings out, unless I didn't have the courage. This was the trigger, me being a super competitive person who always brags about having bigger balls than most guys.

I waited my time. I kept turning to look at him, when no one was around in the one room they had all of us working. Finally, I found him in our little cafeteria place, alone. Because I had to prove just how ballsy I am, I just did it. I told him I liked him. He looked at me, a bit dumbfounded. He said nothing, that I can remember.

I felt good, but still, I wasn't sure what to do now. So, I talked to my best friend who told me I should do more than that, but flat out ask him out for a drink, then I'd know for sure. So, again I waited, and waited. Until I saw him go to the cafeteria, and like the stalker I was, I followed him. I again, did the whole smile thing, and asked him out for a drink. He politely, and with a very mortified look on his face, said no (I forgot his exact words, but that's the gist of it).

I was cool with it, I was even happy. I liked him but didn't, something very weird and odd like that. I just can't explain it, it's some girl disease or something.

Alright, so I was cool with it and told my confessed allies. We then had some work get together thing, where my "allies" and "best friends" proceeded to tell everyone about my having told Rich I liked him, and flat out make fun of me. I found out because this other guy, who then tried to get in my pants, told me - but that there's another story.

Needless to say, I've never even considered dating anyone else at work (this is a lie, I liked this other guy later on but that just never worked out).

I decided it was ok for girls to tell guys they liked them

Alright, so I've told 3 guys in my whole life that I liked them.

1.  Jon

Jon was in my college circle of friends. He was cute, funny, smoked pot yet could still have deep and involved conversations  (while I generally sat back and contemplated my inability to speak and my wonderment at the small group talking about Hume or Nietzsche).  He was a philosophy major, no surprise. He was laid back but not a total hippie type of character, very New England I guess. You know, the type who wears Berks, tries to rap when totally drunk and high, will never live in a city but is hardly just stone out in the field smelling the flowers.  He was adorable. I couldn't talk to him much because I flat out felt dumb around him.  So I resorted to just try to look as cute as possible.

I found out from my best friend that he watched rap videos and totally liked brown girls. Perfect.

One little problem:  I had tripped on acid a year or two before that and hooked up with his current roommate/best friend, Alex.  He was so hot. Cute face, hard hard body but not disgustingly ripped. Why do inexperienced people try stupid stuff?  I gave him a blow job then we 69'ed. It was bad. It actually turned me off having a guy go down on me, that was the first time. From then on I thought, what's the point of having a tongue just go up and down there?  He just didn't know what he was doing at all.

Bigger problem:  While I liked Jon, and while he and his roommate lived together, we all got drunk and high. I went home and Alex called me, he wanted to come over. I was kind of mad that Jon didn't seem interested, I was drunk, I was high. I said ok.  We made out then I started to. Give him a hand job. (Big caveat here: I had been with a guy before who for some reason, most likely due to his own violent masturbatory habits, liked for me to jerk him off rather roughly) OK- so I'm doing my thing, when out of nowhere Alex shrinks back. I stop and he pulls away from me even more. He goes on to touch it and check it out, then says "you broke it.". I almost died. I asked what the hell. He says "there's blood."  I freak, he gets up and goes home.  To this day I don't know if he told anyone about that night, but he probably warned his friends (including Jon) about the Dick Breaker.

Yet another little problem:  he never even flirted with me. I was just another girl.  Maybe this was a big problem.

Alright, so I got the courage to tell him how I felt. He said nothing. My friends told me how ballsy I was. The end.