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I will sing a Lullabye
The last time it happened I met a boy at my old roommate's Birthday party weekend. Yes, Birthday party weekend, the birthday required an entire weekend of debauchery. Anyway, I met him Friday night at this itty bitty private bar on Franklin Street, and we sat and talked and talked and drank and drank and I made some comment to him about his chapstick being the wrong flavor (I mean, who seriously uses the black kind?) and he made some comment to me about buying me another tequila shot (and then later he made some comment to me about NO MORE TEQUILA FOR YOU!) and then he disappeared and I was sad. He called the ex roomie the next morning to make sure I'd gotten home okay and she, of course, called me to tell me that he'd checked up on me and I, of course, got all butterfly-ey and jittery, as you do. I saw him again when we arrived at her actual party the next evening. We did junior high dances around each other, smiling shyly at each other while making small talk with other partiers, and finally he came to sit with me on the steps outside. He asked me to take a walk and I knew what that was about, but I went with him anyway and we wound up all kissy-face in a church parking lot a block away. That is, of course, until we heard ex-roomie screaming my name at the top of her lungs. Obviously that made me burst out laughing which effectively killed the moment, and we headed back. I wasn't crazy about this guy, but I think I could have been. Anyhow, he asked me to watch the meteor shower with him and his friends at 4 a.m. on a golf course near his house. I agreed to go. 3 a.m. rolled around and all of his friends mysteriously backed out of the meteor shower viewing. So it was just he and I as we packed up and headed out there. We lay cuddled on the golf course with sleeping bags and pillows and watched the stars streak across the sky and murmurred softly to each other until I started to fall asleep. He shook me gently and said we could head back, it was cold and I was tired and falling asleep on the golf course in the middle of winter would probably not do either of us any good. We packed up our sleeping bags and pillows and headed back to his place. I didn't stay there that night. He asked me to. He swore that there would be no funny business, but I had been through enough by that time to know that nothing good would come of me staying. I decided to try leaving instead. He called the next day and I was so pleased. I called all my friends and squealed about how refreshing it was to not have to play the stupid game. He called! He likes me! Good things could come of this! He asked me out for the following Tuesday and I was further impressed that he knew to plan ahead with me. He offered to cook for me, and I agreed, reluctantly. We decided to eat at my place as I was roommateless by then and it would offer us an opportunity for some one-on-one time unfettered by alcohol. He called the next day to confirm our plans and my heart gave a little flutter at how normal the whole thing was. I wasn't twisting myself into knots with this guy trying to figure out what was going on. He liked me. We were going to have a date. The very notion had me positively squealing with delight. He showed up for our date with a dozen roses, a bottle of wine, fresh bread and pasta. That's where everything fell apart. I'm not a flowers on the first date kind of girl. They make me nervous and they add pressure to an already tension filled situation. I was flummoxed by the roses, I knew enough to be gracious and say thank you, but things were starting to feel forced. He complimented my hair and my outfit as he poured me a glass of wine. The compliments only served to throw me further off kilter as it's not the kind of affection I'm used to. I can graciously accept a compliment, but I won't believe you like me until you tease me about the way I say "mittens" or something of that nature. I was completely off balance by the time dinner was over, and of course dinner + wine + roses = Kissyface on the couch. I have never figured out if the payment for the dinner, wine & roses was supposed to be a romp in the sack, or if we wound up with a genuine miscommunication, but I became uncomfortable with the speed at which things were moving pretty early on, and I halted him with a "so...it's good to see you don't have a coke nail then..." (I know, smooth, right?) A half hour later he was out the door. I didn't hear from him again. I don't know if it was the coke nail comment or my general unwillingness to get naked, but it's the last time anyone's even tried to get a piece of my heart and it's a crying shame. I wasn't crazy about him, but I absolutely could have been. There's a piece of me that's just dying to be crazy about somebody but I learned a long time ago that it's a bad idea to jump in with both feet, so I'm cautious now where I used to be reckless and the map to my heart is a little more cluttered with obstacles than it used to be. I don't know where this story came from. Partially it came from telling Pam about my "coke nail" line the other day, partially it came from the fact that my ex boyfriend (and not the good one) sent me a random picture of himself yesterday afternoon after more than six months of no communication (No note, no explanation, no nothin'), and partially it came from the fact that this is a pretty lonely time of year and sometimes I just gotta let my heart break a little. In better news - I found a hairstylist that I love yesterday! Craziest hair salon in town, but the cuts are excellent, the prices are reasonable, and I totally don't mind that within a half hour of my being there the owner was introducing me to the man she's trying to set my friend Barb (who is one of the people who recommended the salon to me) up with, and that by the time I left I felt like I was one of the family. AND - I got a haircut and I didn't even whine about it before hand! It's super short and sassy right now. I just spend all my time running my fingers through it all jealous that my hair is hotter than I am. Reading: Farm Fatale by Wendy Holden (still). Recently Saw: Jack Black on Will & Grace last night. Swoon. Me hearts. I missed the rest of Thursday night lineup because of an emergency trip to Hobby Lobby (which may be my favorite new store that inspires all kinds of hobbies that I do not currently have including, but not limited to, ceramics painting and making things out of foam balls) to find a picture frame (a failed mission on my part, I believe Sarah fared better) and NOT to buy the felt coloring kit. |
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