We were IMing for about a week. We had decided on Tuesday we'd have a Scrabble date at the Starbucks by my house on Saturday, early evening. Fast forward to Thursday night we were texting and it was so great, he's ridiculously sweet and charming. He was really into me. So I said, Hey wanna meet tomorrow at noon? That way I can see that you're real? I'll let you buy me a strawberry shake. I was hesitant to ask him, but I'm trying to be forward, especially since he's so shy. He was stoked, said Yes, of course!
He said he would be there at noon, and he sounded really excited. he Google
mapped it and planned his route (adorable).
The next afternoon he's at the rendezvous sitting at a table. He sees me walking toward him and turns dark red.
oh man. he's so gorgeous. Like an Abercrombie model. Not so much American Apparel, he has a great glow about him. Very healthy and fit and his eyes are like big dark oceans. and he's BRILLIANT. He just came back from Moscow, where he had been studying 1st year grad school math. He's like, wicked smart.
I'm not quite sure how socialized he is, though. I can deal with that, however. If anyone can socialize this boy, it's me.
Every time he looks at me he stutters, and I get the feeling he's really really on edge. He was so nervous he was making me nervous.
So I do all the disarming, quirky-cute things girls have to do to put guys at ease. There's nothing worse than knowing you're intimidating someone. Makes me feel too alpha. I wanna be the girl, not have to run the show, 'na mean?
We talked about a math problem I've been trying to work out in my head for the past couple of days:
If 3 couple enter a conference room, with a table in the middle and 8 chairs around it. If all 6 people are blindfolded then walked randomly around the room and sat down randomly all at once, what are the odds that any 1 couple will end up seated together?
He assured me he would solve it, then tell me the equation.
I was forward. At the end of lunch I asked if he still wanted to play Scrabble and have coffee tomorrow evening. He beamed and said, 'Yes of course!'
I told him to let me know tomorrow. I was having a hard time reading him, so I wanted to make it clear that he should let me know tomorrow if he still wanted to meet up again.
The next evening it was 6 pm and I hadn't heard from him. I shoot him a one word text: "Scrabble"
He responds about 10 minutes later with: "Sorry, I can't. I have 2 papers and a presentation due on Monday."
And that was it, apparently. No idea what that was about. Maybe he's just super busy studying? He's getting his master's and I know he's really busy with that. Maybe I was too intimidating. Or maybe he's just not that into me.
Meh...we'll see what happens.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Barfing in a cooler is teh new black
I signed up for okcupid. It's time for me to date. Totally ready for a relationship.
I had my first date on Friday. We met for lunch. He's so nice and really really into me. Me, not so much after I met him. He's just not my type.
Anyways, Saturday night he called me to go out, and in a moment of drunken weakness I said yes. He's responsible, kind, very attentive, and a lot of fun.
He picks me up and I'm already half lit because I'd just gone to the movies to see The Social Network (which SUCKED) with another guy and we were drinking rum and coke in the theatre.
We go to Fox's, where I promptly get out of the car and smash my cocktail glass in the parking lot (cla$$y what!) This guy is thoroughly amused. Later, after somehow deciding NOT to go to the strip club, we're driving to the Grove in his car and I say, "Listen I'm not into you at all, but I'd still really like to fuck you into traction tonight. Cool?"
He says yes.
Fast forward 6 hours and I wake up in his bed, blood ALL OVER the 64,000 threadcount sheets. Teh secks has forced my period. yay menstruation! It really looks like a massacre. Yet he's still totally delighted with me somehow.
I'm not that mortified, but of course I apologize sincerely. He goes to the store to get me Tylenol and cuban toast and coffee and comes back with all that plus a 6 pack he immediately starts drinking. I can't blame him. I drank so much the night before that he needs to start drinking first thing in the morning (which is actually like 1 pm).
While he's gone I open his laptop, log into his facebook and friend myself, then update his status to say, "period blood under my fingernails? √ #uknowitwasagoodnight.
I ask if we can have sex again. He says yes, then reminds me that the night before I told him I wasn't into him AT ALL. I nod. Sounds about right. He says, "Man you totally duded me. I was like, wtf. But you're so stupid hot."
We do it again. And I have to say it was spectacular. He's very very good. Yet he keeps telling me to be quiet. But it feels so good I'm having a hard time keeping it down, so while we're fucking I'm literally apologizing in between the yelps that inevitably escape my lips. UNF. This he finds incredibly sexy, so it gets even hotter....and so forth.
Later he gets a little upset, cuz he asks about going out again in the future, even if I'm not really into him. I say no and that I'm moving on. I put it as gently and firmly as possible. I really don't want to hurt his feelings.
He starts asking, "But what's my fatal flaw?...''
I say, "Nothing, it's fine, you're wonderful. I'm just not into you like that."
So later he's taking me home and we're almost to my house (it's a long drive) and I say, "I'm gonna be sick; please pull over"
He says, "No way am I letting you puke in someone's yard. We're almost to your house. I have a cooler in the backseat"
I'M MORTIFIED.
BUT I HAVE TO PUKE. NAO.
He passes me the cooler, I proceed to barf. It's awful. Plus the whole time he's saying, "Mmmm that smells grrrreat." and "This is such a good look for you, sweetie"
And I'm fairly sure I've just gotten puke on the Ray Bans he let me wear for the ride home.
He says, "You're gonna be a lamb and rinse that cooler out for me when we get to your place right?"
When I ask for a napkin he hands me a Brooks Brother's handkerchief. I can't help but laugh. I had no idea guys this nice and awesome actually exist.
Needless to say that fucking cooler went into the garbage out back. Along with his W-4's that were inside the cooler.
And he *still * wants to be all up in my business. Best date EVAR.
Straight Class.
#imneverdrinkingagain
I had my first date on Friday. We met for lunch. He's so nice and really really into me. Me, not so much after I met him. He's just not my type.
Anyways, Saturday night he called me to go out, and in a moment of drunken weakness I said yes. He's responsible, kind, very attentive, and a lot of fun.
He picks me up and I'm already half lit because I'd just gone to the movies to see The Social Network (which SUCKED) with another guy and we were drinking rum and coke in the theatre.
We go to Fox's, where I promptly get out of the car and smash my cocktail glass in the parking lot (cla$$y what!) This guy is thoroughly amused. Later, after somehow deciding NOT to go to the strip club, we're driving to the Grove in his car and I say, "Listen I'm not into you at all, but I'd still really like to fuck you into traction tonight. Cool?"
He says yes.
Fast forward 6 hours and I wake up in his bed, blood ALL OVER the 64,000 threadcount sheets. Teh secks has forced my period. yay menstruation! It really looks like a massacre. Yet he's still totally delighted with me somehow.
I'm not that mortified, but of course I apologize sincerely. He goes to the store to get me Tylenol and cuban toast and coffee and comes back with all that plus a 6 pack he immediately starts drinking. I can't blame him. I drank so much the night before that he needs to start drinking first thing in the morning (which is actually like 1 pm).
While he's gone I open his laptop, log into his facebook and friend myself, then update his status to say, "period blood under my fingernails? √ #uknowitwasagoodnight.
I ask if we can have sex again. He says yes, then reminds me that the night before I told him I wasn't into him AT ALL. I nod. Sounds about right. He says, "Man you totally duded me. I was like, wtf. But you're so stupid hot."
We do it again. And I have to say it was spectacular. He's very very good. Yet he keeps telling me to be quiet. But it feels so good I'm having a hard time keeping it down, so while we're fucking I'm literally apologizing in between the yelps that inevitably escape my lips. UNF. This he finds incredibly sexy, so it gets even hotter....and so forth.
Later he gets a little upset, cuz he asks about going out again in the future, even if I'm not really into him. I say no and that I'm moving on. I put it as gently and firmly as possible. I really don't want to hurt his feelings.
He starts asking, "But what's my fatal flaw?...''
I say, "Nothing, it's fine, you're wonderful. I'm just not into you like that."
So later he's taking me home and we're almost to my house (it's a long drive) and I say, "I'm gonna be sick; please pull over"
He says, "No way am I letting you puke in someone's yard. We're almost to your house. I have a cooler in the backseat"
I'M MORTIFIED.
BUT I HAVE TO PUKE. NAO.
He passes me the cooler, I proceed to barf. It's awful. Plus the whole time he's saying, "Mmmm that smells grrrreat." and "This is such a good look for you, sweetie"
And I'm fairly sure I've just gotten puke on the Ray Bans he let me wear for the ride home.
He says, "You're gonna be a lamb and rinse that cooler out for me when we get to your place right?"
When I ask for a napkin he hands me a Brooks Brother's handkerchief. I can't help but laugh. I had no idea guys this nice and awesome actually exist.
Needless to say that fucking cooler went into the garbage out back. Along with his W-4's that were inside the cooler.
And he *still * wants to be all up in my business. Best date EVAR.
Straight Class.
#imneverdrinkingagain
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
mutherfucking sailfish
So this morning I was rummaging around the garage looking for an umbrella (thanks, TS Nicole, you big stupid rainstorm) and it was dark. I leaned over some boxes and I felt something sharp smash into my glasses, then scratch my face. I look and it's a mutherfucking sailfish bill, all sharp and black and about 3 feet long...
Thank christ I had my glasses on, which I hardly EVER put on before I get in my car to drive to work.
I turned and walked out of the garage in horrified shock.
I was nearly killed. Or at the very least I would be wearing a snazzy eye patch right now. Can you imagine?
Sometimes it's like God just leans right down a gives you a kiss on the forehead. Today was that day for me, and I'm terribly grateful :)
Thank christ I had my glasses on, which I hardly EVER put on before I get in my car to drive to work.
I turned and walked out of the garage in horrified shock.
I was nearly killed. Or at the very least I would be wearing a snazzy eye patch right now. Can you imagine?
Sometimes it's like God just leans right down a gives you a kiss on the forehead. Today was that day for me, and I'm terribly grateful :)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
this blog is not yet rated
...because, seriously no one's rated it.
I went running yesterday with Plato. Which is a real big freaking deal because I hate running.Yet at a big Labor Day (which was aces all the way, in case you didn't come. Or weren't invited) I promised one of my more manic and slightly more motivated friends that I would run this damn half-marathon with her in January 2011.
It truly seemed like a great idea at the time. Like, hell yes I'ma run this thing! I've gotten really lazy and unmotivated over the past few months and my friend was making SO MUCH SENSE. The health benefits, the rigorous training schedule, the discipline...plus I had already drunk a moderate quantity of beer and was pretty impressionable. So I agreed.
Jump forward 3 weeks and I've spent $74 on Asics (which don't even really fit properly), way too much time on the internet researching training methods and energy gels and sports bras and about 4 hours *actually* running. I mean, I really hate running. What truly solidified my disdain for this ridiculous sport was a couple weekends ago I did a 5K (3.1 miles) with my friends. It was awful. My feet felt like they were on fire. ABout halfway through I realized that a half marathon takes approximately 3 hours to complete.
::3 HOURS::
Fuck. That.
Anyways, last night I went for a 4 mile run with Plato, and it was pretty ok I guess. If you like running.
I started running about 5 years ago when I weighed 210 pounds. One day my husband (bless him) sat me down in private and informed me that I was very, very overweight and that he was worried about 'my health' (read: the fact that his wife was a fatty). And that he was no longer sexually attracted to me. O_o
Also he said that he loved me very much and would like to see me healthy. Well, me being me, I was mortified, didn't speak to him for a couple of days, cried an ocean of tears, blah blah blah... then proceeded to run. Everyday.
It worked! It was hard, but I actually sweated my ass off and lost about 60 pounds. So I realized that running was probably the best way to lose weight and maintain it. What a revelation! (Ironically, just as I was losing the weight, he was gaining it)
But please, dear reader, do not mistake my happiness about being thin for a love of running. It's awful. Don't ever do it.
I went running yesterday with Plato. Which is a real big freaking deal because I hate running.Yet at a big Labor Day (which was aces all the way, in case you didn't come. Or weren't invited) I promised one of my more manic and slightly more motivated friends that I would run this damn half-marathon with her in January 2011.
It truly seemed like a great idea at the time. Like, hell yes I'ma run this thing! I've gotten really lazy and unmotivated over the past few months and my friend was making SO MUCH SENSE. The health benefits, the rigorous training schedule, the discipline...plus I had already drunk a moderate quantity of beer and was pretty impressionable. So I agreed.
Jump forward 3 weeks and I've spent $74 on Asics (which don't even really fit properly), way too much time on the internet researching training methods and energy gels and sports bras and about 4 hours *actually* running. I mean, I really hate running. What truly solidified my disdain for this ridiculous sport was a couple weekends ago I did a 5K (3.1 miles) with my friends. It was awful. My feet felt like they were on fire. ABout halfway through I realized that a half marathon takes approximately 3 hours to complete.
::3 HOURS::
Fuck. That.
Anyways, last night I went for a 4 mile run with Plato, and it was pretty ok I guess. If you like running.
I started running about 5 years ago when I weighed 210 pounds. One day my husband (bless him) sat me down in private and informed me that I was very, very overweight and that he was worried about 'my health' (read: the fact that his wife was a fatty). And that he was no longer sexually attracted to me. O_o
Also he said that he loved me very much and would like to see me healthy. Well, me being me, I was mortified, didn't speak to him for a couple of days, cried an ocean of tears, blah blah blah... then proceeded to run. Everyday.
It worked! It was hard, but I actually sweated my ass off and lost about 60 pounds. So I realized that running was probably the best way to lose weight and maintain it. What a revelation! (Ironically, just as I was losing the weight, he was gaining it)
But please, dear reader, do not mistake my happiness about being thin for a love of running. It's awful. Don't ever do it.
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