Archive | 30’s RSS feed for this section

Protected: The Journey Begins

3 Apr

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: My Wake-Up Call

14 Mar

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Who, Me?

20 Feb

Thank the good lord that I’m not that girl.  You know the one I’m referring to: the one that goes out with someone dreamy on Saturday and then obsesses when he doesn’t call her immediately if not sooner. 

Or who might over analyze why he dropped her off at 9:30 PM and told her he had to get up early for work the next day because his morning person had called out and he didn’t have a back up.

Who then proceeds to text Pistols for the rest of the night about how she was rejected.

And then decides to text the dreamy guy the next day to rub in that she got to sleep in when he had to get up at 6:00 in the morning and thanks for dinner last night. 

Then proceeds to check the phone 500 times to see if he responds.

Then once he does (8 hours after she sent the message-because that girl would totally keep track of the time) she immediately texts back and then flips out when he doesn’t respond within 5 seconds.

And when he doesn’t respond to her 2nd text or call her within 48 hours she deletes his phone number from her cellphone.

But she still logs onto her computer at home (via dial up because she’s totally behind the times) just to see if he might have emailed her after working two 12 hour days in a row because it would totally be the high point of his day to send her a message.

Then after not hearing from him for 2 days she sends him an email inviting him to dinner, and then checks her email every 2 minutes to see if he has responded.  And would totally keep track of the fact that she sent the email before 8:00 in the morning and 7 hours later he hasn’t responded.

Yeah, so thank God I’m totally not like her.  I would never do that.  Not ever.

Protected: A Conversation Between You and Me

11 Feb

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: Friday Night Festivities

9 Feb

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: Will You Be My Date to the Prom?

4 Feb

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: A Special Birthday Shout Out!

20 Jan

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

A Kiss Is Still A Kiss

26 Nov

kissing_in_car

“then I did the simplest thing in the world.  I leaned down. . .and kissed him.  And the world cracked open.” -Agnes de Mille

What is it about him that turns my knees to jelly?  It is unnatural the way that I feel around him, like I’m about to melt into the ground, or burst into flames.  Seriously, he drives me crazy.  We have little to talk about, and there are awkward silences about him, but he makes me flush and want to jump into his lap the second I see him.

Notebook came home for Thanksgiving, and we made plans to meet out for some drinks on Saturday night.  I was tired.  I didn’t want to go, yet I dragged myself out.  I made minimal effort in putting myself together as I was sure that nothing would happen.  I packed the girls in a tank top and tightish sweater (I did notice him staring down my shirt when he thought I wasn’t looking), and threw my jeans on over unshaven legs.  He walked in looking hot, as usual.  He always looks hot.  Always.

He bought me a drink, we flirted with one another, some other friends showed up.  We sat there for hours and I did a super job of not drooling on his jacket or his sweater.  Finally, it was time to go.  He walked me to my car.  It was cold out so I offered to drive him back to his car.  He said yes.  I pulled up in front of his car that he had parked right outside the bar.  He smiled at me and I knew he was going to kiss me.  And then he did.  And we were both sober.  Stone cold sober.

I went back and forth between 3 distinct thoughts: the desire to jump over my center console and straddle him; wanting to melt right into him; and wondering what it would be like if he just swallowed me whole.  He was so warm, his lips so soft, his hands were in my hair. He whispered, “It’s nice to see you,” while he kissed me.  Lord only knows how I managed not to die right then and there.   [My heart is beating so fast just thinking about it all.]

Having had no expectations that there could be a booty call, I was unprepared-I left the house without shaving my legs.  That meant that I couldn’t invite him home to jump into my warm bed.  Damn my unshaved legs!!  Foiled again!

We said good-bye.  We will not call each other, we will not email each other.  And I’m okay with that.  I’ll see him at Christmas time.  I have zero expectations.

A very Happy Birthday to me. . .