Tonight was my last date with The Tenor - and I waited all summer for the chance to use that pun. I'm particularly pleased with it.
We decided to end on a classic note and went mini-golfing. We're both fairly terrible, and were behind a family with small chillins, so it was a chance to spend a lot of time laughing and talking. I did manage to put a hole in one with my eyes closed, which added an epic flair to the evening. There was air hockey and basketball hoop-shooting afterwards in the arcade, and I managed to make a decent showing for myself. We spent our little tickets on candy, enjoying the nostalgia of some fun dip.
We headed over to Coldstone to get ice cream, and after they closed and kicked us out we parked ourselves on a bench and spent the next two hours talking, laughing, petting the random stray cat who adopted us (we named him Snape), cuddling, and enjoying one another's company immensely.
It's been a fabulous summer together. So many people didn't - and still don't - understand the whole summer-fling-thing. I've kind of given up trying to explain it, and I just smile. We got it. We were open and up front from the absolute beginning about how and when it would be over, so that everyone knew what was going on. No one was disappointed or over-invested, there was no lying to ourselves about it. That's where the difference is: no promises of forever and always, no false expectations, just honesty. I got to date a wonderful boy who restored my faith that good men exist, and that I don't have to settle. I had a blast, I got a little spoiled, I got a lot of affection. I made a bunch of fantastic memories that will not be tarnished by a break-up or trials that would inevitably come. I've invested a lot into a wonderful friendship.
Yes, I'll miss him. But I can call him my friend, and that's a blessing.
16 August 2011
12 August 2011
the beginning of the end
And thus does one of the best summers of my life draw to a close. Today was my last all-day-date-day with The Tenor - though not our last date, just yet. We spent it eating subway, talking about wishes, and watching Dollhouse while snuggled up on the bed, half-napping in eachother's arms.
He's such a sweetheart. I had a performance yesterday, and he was there in his shirt and tie, wishing me luck, calming my nerves, being my strong support, running errands and being calm and helpful. He drove all the way out to the ends of the earth for me today to visit while I was housesitting, and even helped feed animals and clean up the scorpion I smashed on the floor. He brought me a delicious lunch. He bought me frozen yogurt on Tuesday, after dancing with me until I was dizzy, spinning me around in the air, and dipping me in the most romantic way possible. He cuddled with me on the couch as we read Hamlet with a bunch of friends. Last night, he told me he could now die happy, since he has dated a girl who could quote Star Wars in casual conversation. He was thrilled today when I understood all his talk about his pick-up basketball game. He was patient with my eccentricities, sympathetic to my stress, and encouraging me when I needed it. And this is just this week!
As he was getting ready to leave tonight, he looked over and out of the blue said, "Thank you for letting me go. You are wonderful. You know it's nothing to do with you, right?" Most people don't understand our relationship - I certainly have a hard time explaining it. We're going to miss each other. We've agreed that, for both of us, this has been one of life's most enjoyable summers. We knew how this would be, and so, while sad, this will not be heartbreak. It will be a wonderful friendship, with some very poignant memories.
He's such a sweetheart. I had a performance yesterday, and he was there in his shirt and tie, wishing me luck, calming my nerves, being my strong support, running errands and being calm and helpful. He drove all the way out to the ends of the earth for me today to visit while I was housesitting, and even helped feed animals and clean up the scorpion I smashed on the floor. He brought me a delicious lunch. He bought me frozen yogurt on Tuesday, after dancing with me until I was dizzy, spinning me around in the air, and dipping me in the most romantic way possible. He cuddled with me on the couch as we read Hamlet with a bunch of friends. Last night, he told me he could now die happy, since he has dated a girl who could quote Star Wars in casual conversation. He was thrilled today when I understood all his talk about his pick-up basketball game. He was patient with my eccentricities, sympathetic to my stress, and encouraging me when I needed it. And this is just this week!
As he was getting ready to leave tonight, he looked over and out of the blue said, "Thank you for letting me go. You are wonderful. You know it's nothing to do with you, right?" Most people don't understand our relationship - I certainly have a hard time explaining it. We're going to miss each other. We've agreed that, for both of us, this has been one of life's most enjoyable summers. We knew how this would be, and so, while sad, this will not be heartbreak. It will be a wonderful friendship, with some very poignant memories.
08 August 2011
short and sweet
Friday is all-day-date-day with The Tenor; this week we went to a movie and lunch and spent the afternoon playing board games in the restaurant, talking about Christmas and family traditions and sibling nostalgia.
Pure, simple, and delightful.
Pure, simple, and delightful.
03 August 2011
sweet sweet sweet
Apparently, Snow White and I are just fortunate enough to run into boys who are as sweet as sugar.
I took The Tenor out for dinner on Monday (getting it to be my treat is a difficult struggle! But he gave in graciously.) We enjoyed our delicious food and conversation and then retired to a practice room, where we sat snuggled up on the piano bench, playing and singing and talking and holding one another.
As summer starts to draw to an end, I begin to realize how very much I will miss this boy.
He's so sweet. I normally gad about in flip flops, this being Arizona, and had on a pair of little white heels since I was wearing a dress for our date. He noticed them when we were getting up, and commented on how cute they were. Now, I'm not a shoe-a-holic like some girls, so it doesn't matter much to me if you notice them or not. What gets me is that he comments because he thinks I might want to hear it, and he wants to make me happy. He does that when I get a pedicure, too, or change my fingernail polish. It's sweet.
He holds doors. He puts his hand on my back to guide me through church. He walks me to my car, and always tells me to drive safely home. He winks at me. He holds me. He's always cheerful, happy and bouncy and yet willing to be serious when the situation calls. He lets me fall asleep on his lap and keeps others from disturbing me. He sings to me, and dances with me, and is considerate of my possible whims. He remembers things, little burbles dropped in conversation. He learns about me, and acts on it. He's wonderful.
He calls me sweetheart, and sweetie, and sweetness. Apparently we agree on what we are - just sweet.
3 more weeks.
I took The Tenor out for dinner on Monday (getting it to be my treat is a difficult struggle! But he gave in graciously.) We enjoyed our delicious food and conversation and then retired to a practice room, where we sat snuggled up on the piano bench, playing and singing and talking and holding one another.
As summer starts to draw to an end, I begin to realize how very much I will miss this boy.
He's so sweet. I normally gad about in flip flops, this being Arizona, and had on a pair of little white heels since I was wearing a dress for our date. He noticed them when we were getting up, and commented on how cute they were. Now, I'm not a shoe-a-holic like some girls, so it doesn't matter much to me if you notice them or not. What gets me is that he comments because he thinks I might want to hear it, and he wants to make me happy. He does that when I get a pedicure, too, or change my fingernail polish. It's sweet.
He holds doors. He puts his hand on my back to guide me through church. He walks me to my car, and always tells me to drive safely home. He winks at me. He holds me. He's always cheerful, happy and bouncy and yet willing to be serious when the situation calls. He lets me fall asleep on his lap and keeps others from disturbing me. He sings to me, and dances with me, and is considerate of my possible whims. He remembers things, little burbles dropped in conversation. He learns about me, and acts on it. He's wonderful.
He calls me sweetheart, and sweetie, and sweetness. Apparently we agree on what we are - just sweet.
3 more weeks.
Galahad, Part II
I vaguely knew about Galahad long before I met him. Because his sister is my close friend, I'd seen a few pictures of him on Facebook, and I knew that he'd recently come home from a mission in Columbia. As far as I was concerned, that was the extent of his biography.
I met him on July 3rd around 4 o'clock PM. Don't worry. I'm not a crazed stalker. In the words of the Swede, that's just my "attention to detail".
I was standing in the Relief Society room with his sister after church. She and I were the only people in the room when he walked in and asked her a question. I immediately guessed who he was from the family resemblance.
About 20 minutes later, we were sitting around a table at Break the Fast, he on her left and I on her right, when she realized she hadn't introduced us. I hadn't really thought about it since I'd already figured out who he was. It wasn't hard. I said as much to her and discovered that I'd had only a slight advantage over him. He'd heard quite a bit about me, but he didn't know what I looked like.
To be honest, I didn't really notice him much that day. Sure, I thought he was all kinds of cute, but I was too chill to think much about it. There were sloppy joes and celery (I'm easily sidetracked by celery) and gooey brownies, and I was just having too much fun firing off witty remarks to pay attention. There's a certain mood I get in at sit-down church meals. They're when I'm at my cleverest. All I need is a brick wall and a microphone. A few weeks later, his sister told me that his initial impression was that I was funny. Yeah, I get that a lot.
The next time I saw him was Monday, July 11th when I went to the weekly singles activity. It was an unbirthday party for everyone that day. There was a piñata and everything.
It seems to me that Galahad is always the one to start a food fight. He and his friend attacked his sister with cupcakes at that particular shindig.
I didn't participate in many of the activities that night, so the most interaction I had with him was while he was juggling Tootsie pops. One fell and rolled toward me, so I tossed it back. It made me smile.
I was still mostly immune to him at that point. All of the nervousness I felt around him was merely the usual nervousness I feel around boys. It takes me a long time to become truly comfortable around any attractive boy.
Two days later, everything changed.
28 July 2011
Galahad, Part I
Word of advice: Never start a blog while you're out in the sticks with limited internet. It doesn't work out so well.
Since I don't date very often, I had every intention of starting my posts at the very beginning, working my way up from my first date with The Swede (more on him later) to my most recent date, which was with The Beat Boxer.
This plan very quickly got tossed out the window. Oh, yes. Very quickly.
Those are old dates, some of them long past, some of them long forgotten.
Right now, my soul is aglow with the hope of a new crush, which may or may not be requited.
His name, here at least, is Galahad.
In Arthurian legend, Galahad is one of the three knights to reach the Holy Grail. In some versions, he is the only one to actually touch the Grail because he is the only one pure enough of heart. As Wikipedia describes him, he "is renowned for his gallantry and purity".
The description is apt. My Galahad is so sweet that he makes sugar seem bitter.
You'll see what I mean...
18 July 2011
Matchmaking
I have learned my lesson. Even if they say it's not matchmaking, don't believe them, it will not turn out well.
At the July 4th neighborhood barbecue, I got talking to one of my favorite-but-distant neighbors about how all of the friends who live close to me are married and parents. A few days later, I get an e-mail that opens with "I know this sounds like matchmaking, but I don't do that so it's not..." and goes on about this nice Christian young man, a good family friend, who says the same things and could use a friend. She emphasized the NOT a set-up part, and included us both in a message so we could facebook.
Mistake. I'm going to call him Dolphin Boy, as his profile is, inexplicably, a dolphin. It should be DOlphin boy, because he apparently has issues with capitalization and not enough presence of mind to fix it. Yes, I am judging. So, DOlphin Boy begins popping up on chat all. the. time. I answered the first few times, and we decided to meet up for coffee.
I hate to be shallow, but DOlphin is, politely, unattractive. He has bad teeth, really bad teeth, which is my #1 turn off, physically. We disagree on music, and movies, and books. He's almost 30. Conversation was not very fluid, though not as bad as with The Marine or the Beat Boxer. He didn't seem to have a whole lot of personality...he was kind of spongy, if that makes any kind of sense at all.
I almost gave him my old phone number when he asked, but I'm a truly terrible liar and probably couldn't get away with it. I'm just going to avoid any unknown numbers, unless they leave a voicemail. And he now comments on EVERYTHING I put on facebook, and pops up even more constantly on chat. I largely ignore it.
I saw nothing in him that made me want to actually form a friendship, or even continue an acquaintanceship. He keeps trying to invite himself along to things. And chatting. And saying absolutely nothing in a great many words. As I realize how much personal stuff I have online and how mostly-total strangers don't need to know it**, I decided to delete him, and then blocked him for good measure. This way I vanish. I'm afraid I may have offended him, or possibly through him my neighbor, but...too late?
So yeah. Neighbor may have thought it wasn't matchmaking, he certainly seemed to think it was. Even when I mentioned the Tenor repeatedly. Live and learn, right? No more set ups! (unless maybe if it's from someone I reeeeeally trust). Sigh. I still feel like a jerk.
**I know that I am here pouring out my relationship stories to the internet, but it's anonymous. That somehow earns it a distinction.
At the July 4th neighborhood barbecue, I got talking to one of my favorite-but-distant neighbors about how all of the friends who live close to me are married and parents. A few days later, I get an e-mail that opens with "I know this sounds like matchmaking, but I don't do that so it's not..." and goes on about this nice Christian young man, a good family friend, who says the same things and could use a friend. She emphasized the NOT a set-up part, and included us both in a message so we could facebook.
Mistake. I'm going to call him Dolphin Boy, as his profile is, inexplicably, a dolphin. It should be DOlphin boy, because he apparently has issues with capitalization and not enough presence of mind to fix it. Yes, I am judging. So, DOlphin Boy begins popping up on chat all. the. time. I answered the first few times, and we decided to meet up for coffee.
I hate to be shallow, but DOlphin is, politely, unattractive. He has bad teeth, really bad teeth, which is my #1 turn off, physically. We disagree on music, and movies, and books. He's almost 30. Conversation was not very fluid, though not as bad as with The Marine or the Beat Boxer. He didn't seem to have a whole lot of personality...he was kind of spongy, if that makes any kind of sense at all.
I almost gave him my old phone number when he asked, but I'm a truly terrible liar and probably couldn't get away with it. I'm just going to avoid any unknown numbers, unless they leave a voicemail. And he now comments on EVERYTHING I put on facebook, and pops up even more constantly on chat. I largely ignore it.
I saw nothing in him that made me want to actually form a friendship, or even continue an acquaintanceship. He keeps trying to invite himself along to things. And chatting. And saying absolutely nothing in a great many words. As I realize how much personal stuff I have online and how mostly-total strangers don't need to know it**, I decided to delete him, and then blocked him for good measure. This way I vanish. I'm afraid I may have offended him, or possibly through him my neighbor, but...too late?
So yeah. Neighbor may have thought it wasn't matchmaking, he certainly seemed to think it was. Even when I mentioned the Tenor repeatedly. Live and learn, right? No more set ups! (unless maybe if it's from someone I reeeeeally trust). Sigh. I still feel like a jerk.
**I know that I am here pouring out my relationship stories to the internet, but it's anonymous. That somehow earns it a distinction.
the only time I may ever be grateful for a chihuahua
The Marine is home.
He texted me within his first 24 hours here, asking me to come over and visit. Our houses are only about a mile apart, so I went over, lateish. I said hi to his folks, who know me mostly because his older sister and I hiked a lot on the same mountain his mom hikes. And they remember me from my baby days, and grade school...you get the picture.
We sat on the couch and talked. Or, we tried to talk. I tried to talk. It was almost as bad as conversation the Beat Boxer (who you will meet as soon as Snow White gets her butt back to this state and we can co-write). I know the Marine is quiet by nature, and probably going through some kind of culture shock being back in the USA and being a civilian again, but still. It shouldn't be quite that difficult. I was over there for about an hour and a half, and maybe 30 minutes of that actually was filled with talking - spread out. Sentence, sentence, pause.....question, pause....answer....response....pause....
The only reason that total and complete awkwardness was prevented was because of the presence of the dog. I hate chihuahuas, but having it snuggle in next to my leg provided me with something to pet, therefore keeping my hands from clasping and unclasping, and gave me something to look at besides the wall or constantly making and breaking eye contact with the Marine. The dog loves me now, it got so much attention.
At about 11:30, jetlag was used as an excuse to end the 'chatting,' and I drove home. Not really sure what to make of this. I think he's still interested, but if that's as good as the conversation gets, I am definitely not. Especially not after I've gotten a taste of how good it can be - as shown by the Tenor.
The Tenor kind of has restored my faith in men. I can't keep him, but at least he - and hopefully others like him - do exist. It's reassuring.
He texted me within his first 24 hours here, asking me to come over and visit. Our houses are only about a mile apart, so I went over, lateish. I said hi to his folks, who know me mostly because his older sister and I hiked a lot on the same mountain his mom hikes. And they remember me from my baby days, and grade school...you get the picture.
We sat on the couch and talked. Or, we tried to talk. I tried to talk. It was almost as bad as conversation the Beat Boxer (who you will meet as soon as Snow White gets her butt back to this state and we can co-write). I know the Marine is quiet by nature, and probably going through some kind of culture shock being back in the USA and being a civilian again, but still. It shouldn't be quite that difficult. I was over there for about an hour and a half, and maybe 30 minutes of that actually was filled with talking - spread out. Sentence, sentence, pause.....question, pause....answer....response....pause....
The only reason that total and complete awkwardness was prevented was because of the presence of the dog. I hate chihuahuas, but having it snuggle in next to my leg provided me with something to pet, therefore keeping my hands from clasping and unclasping, and gave me something to look at besides the wall or constantly making and breaking eye contact with the Marine. The dog loves me now, it got so much attention.
At about 11:30, jetlag was used as an excuse to end the 'chatting,' and I drove home. Not really sure what to make of this. I think he's still interested, but if that's as good as the conversation gets, I am definitely not. Especially not after I've gotten a taste of how good it can be - as shown by the Tenor.
The Tenor kind of has restored my faith in men. I can't keep him, but at least he - and hopefully others like him - do exist. It's reassuring.
13 July 2011
double date
Hello darling readers! (should any of you exist, that is)
I went on my very first double date last night. Throughout my various short-lived relationships, I keep hearing friends say, 'we should double!' but no one ever follows through. Well, The Tenor met my old roommate's husband at my birthday last week and they hit it off nicely, so we decided to act on the impulse to double.
It was a delightful evening. We decided to dress up and went to The Cheesecake Factory for a rich, delectable dessert. When I arrived, he was waiting for me in the entrance with a lavender rose - my favorite color! I adore flowers, and was definitely not expecting that. I'm sure I spent most of the evening with a giddy little smile on my face.
The four of us got along just swimmingly, and talk ranged all over. I know I've mentioned this before, but easy conversation is one of my favorite traits in a man - and the fact that he gets along so well with my best friends is wonderful. It almost makes it too bad that this relationship has an expiration date... Anyways, after dessert, my friend and her hubby left for an early night's sleep (silly old married people), and the Tenor and I went and sat by the fountain to talk for another couple hours - because talking to him is just that effortless.
Even in the middle of this awful desert, it was actually nice out last night. Sitting under the 'stars,' (I counted three!), listening to a fountain, held in his arms, talking about everything - a perfect date.
I went on my very first double date last night. Throughout my various short-lived relationships, I keep hearing friends say, 'we should double!' but no one ever follows through. Well, The Tenor met my old roommate's husband at my birthday last week and they hit it off nicely, so we decided to act on the impulse to double.
It was a delightful evening. We decided to dress up and went to The Cheesecake Factory for a rich, delectable dessert. When I arrived, he was waiting for me in the entrance with a lavender rose - my favorite color! I adore flowers, and was definitely not expecting that. I'm sure I spent most of the evening with a giddy little smile on my face.
The four of us got along just swimmingly, and talk ranged all over. I know I've mentioned this before, but easy conversation is one of my favorite traits in a man - and the fact that he gets along so well with my best friends is wonderful. It almost makes it too bad that this relationship has an expiration date... Anyways, after dessert, my friend and her hubby left for an early night's sleep (silly old married people), and the Tenor and I went and sat by the fountain to talk for another couple hours - because talking to him is just that effortless.
Even in the middle of this awful desert, it was actually nice out last night. Sitting under the 'stars,' (I counted three!), listening to a fountain, held in his arms, talking about everything - a perfect date.
10 July 2011
updates
It really needs to rain - I'm talking torrential downpour - sometime before The Tenor goes away. He's promised me a cinema-worthy kiss in the rain, and though there may have been opportunity last night, it was viciously windy and I was in a white dress and no clothes to change into - not ideal. Sigh.
There's really not much to say, I just feel like if I'm going to actually do this blog, I should commit to writing at least semi-regularly. We had another movie date, this time complete with pints of ice cream for each of us, which we devoured in their entirety. We watched one of my favorite movies, a Disney classic, and an episode of my favorite old BBC show. The fact that he would choose those out of my stack made my heart smile.
Oh, by the way, The Marine is coming home this week. Since you haven't been introduced to him yet, let me give you a brief history.
I grew up with The Marine, went to the same church, the same grade school, etc, but we were never really friends. His older sister became one of my good friends and hiking partner about a year ago, and I ran into him again at her wedding about 7 months ago. He'd come to one of my concerts and we'd talked, then seeing him there, there was that little *spark,* you know? We were going to go on a date, but leave-time is precious and his family stole him and he left to go back across the ocean without ever calling. He made up for it in the frequency of his Skype calls for a while, and we were talking about seeing what would happen when he came home. According to his sister, he was quite legitimately interested, and I was quite the topic of conversation while he was home.
Then one day, out of the blue, he mentioned that I was merely one of ten girls he was interested in and talking to constantly, and that kind of shut things down. While I understand the situation, it was excessively blunt and poorly timed, so I was a little sore about it - not to mention the extreme time difference was difficult to keep up with even when I was motivated. So, apart from a few texts at odd hours, we didn't talk much for the last several months.
On Friday, as I was about to call it a night, my Skype rang, and sure enough it was him. Apparently, his time is over and he's on his way home, should be here by the end of the week. Surprise! He just wanted 'to call and catch up with me before he got home.' What could this mean? I find myself wondering if he is going to ask me out - and if he does, how will he respond to, "you have to wait until the summer's over, I have a...fling." Awkward....hmmm....
Your thoughts, oh fair few who may have stumbled onto this blog?
There's really not much to say, I just feel like if I'm going to actually do this blog, I should commit to writing at least semi-regularly. We had another movie date, this time complete with pints of ice cream for each of us, which we devoured in their entirety. We watched one of my favorite movies, a Disney classic, and an episode of my favorite old BBC show. The fact that he would choose those out of my stack made my heart smile.
Oh, by the way, The Marine is coming home this week. Since you haven't been introduced to him yet, let me give you a brief history.
I grew up with The Marine, went to the same church, the same grade school, etc, but we were never really friends. His older sister became one of my good friends and hiking partner about a year ago, and I ran into him again at her wedding about 7 months ago. He'd come to one of my concerts and we'd talked, then seeing him there, there was that little *spark,* you know? We were going to go on a date, but leave-time is precious and his family stole him and he left to go back across the ocean without ever calling. He made up for it in the frequency of his Skype calls for a while, and we were talking about seeing what would happen when he came home. According to his sister, he was quite legitimately interested, and I was quite the topic of conversation while he was home.
Then one day, out of the blue, he mentioned that I was merely one of ten girls he was interested in and talking to constantly, and that kind of shut things down. While I understand the situation, it was excessively blunt and poorly timed, so I was a little sore about it - not to mention the extreme time difference was difficult to keep up with even when I was motivated. So, apart from a few texts at odd hours, we didn't talk much for the last several months.
On Friday, as I was about to call it a night, my Skype rang, and sure enough it was him. Apparently, his time is over and he's on his way home, should be here by the end of the week. Surprise! He just wanted 'to call and catch up with me before he got home.' What could this mean? I find myself wondering if he is going to ask me out - and if he does, how will he respond to, "you have to wait until the summer's over, I have a...fling." Awkward....hmmm....
Your thoughts, oh fair few who may have stumbled onto this blog?
04 July 2011
charmed
Hello and happy early morning of the Fourth of July! I love America.
Things with The Tenor continue to progress as delightfully as could be hoped for. Date #4 was watching a movie, cuddled up on the couch together, and once again talking until he absolutely had to leave or be late for work.
I love that we get along so well with the same group of friends, as it exponentially increases the amount of time I get to spend with him. There was a game night last night, and though it ended rather early (midnight is early!), he and I ended up sitting in the parking garage and talking for another three hours. We played the question game - surely you've played this, too. You take turns asking one another questions of any sort, and you can't cheat and ask the same question someone asked you, though you can answer your own question if you wish. It's a wonderful way to get to know someone. The more I learn about this boy, the sadder I am that it can only be a fling.
We did finally have a DTR of sorts last night. It has been officially decided that, though we are dating, we are not 'boyfriend and girlfriend.' As distance (and religious differences) dooms this to an abrupt end in mid-August, it seemed silly to attach titles suggesting a little more permanence. I'm really okay with this, despite being in such unfamiliar territory.
For one thing, he is beyond charming. I wish I could list all the cute little things he has said in the last couple days. They've melted my heart, but I'm afraid I'd probably just bore you, and that won't do. Just rest content knowing that he always seems to know exactly what to say to make me unable to wipe the cheesy grin from my face, or to make me secretly glow with warmth inside.
A most interesting part of the conversation we had was talking about love languages, how we best feel cherished and how we show affection for others. It was quite enlightening, and my brain is now occupied in finding little things I can do throughout the rest of the summer to make him feel on top of the world. Even if it's a short relationship, it doesn't mean I should give less than my best, and that means making it not about myself, but about the other person, and making them feel loved and special.
Things with The Tenor continue to progress as delightfully as could be hoped for. Date #4 was watching a movie, cuddled up on the couch together, and once again talking until he absolutely had to leave or be late for work.
I love that we get along so well with the same group of friends, as it exponentially increases the amount of time I get to spend with him. There was a game night last night, and though it ended rather early (midnight is early!), he and I ended up sitting in the parking garage and talking for another three hours. We played the question game - surely you've played this, too. You take turns asking one another questions of any sort, and you can't cheat and ask the same question someone asked you, though you can answer your own question if you wish. It's a wonderful way to get to know someone. The more I learn about this boy, the sadder I am that it can only be a fling.
We did finally have a DTR of sorts last night. It has been officially decided that, though we are dating, we are not 'boyfriend and girlfriend.' As distance (and religious differences) dooms this to an abrupt end in mid-August, it seemed silly to attach titles suggesting a little more permanence. I'm really okay with this, despite being in such unfamiliar territory.
For one thing, he is beyond charming. I wish I could list all the cute little things he has said in the last couple days. They've melted my heart, but I'm afraid I'd probably just bore you, and that won't do. Just rest content knowing that he always seems to know exactly what to say to make me unable to wipe the cheesy grin from my face, or to make me secretly glow with warmth inside.
A most interesting part of the conversation we had was talking about love languages, how we best feel cherished and how we show affection for others. It was quite enlightening, and my brain is now occupied in finding little things I can do throughout the rest of the summer to make him feel on top of the world. Even if it's a short relationship, it doesn't mean I should give less than my best, and that means making it not about myself, but about the other person, and making them feel loved and special.
29 June 2011
Date #3
Isn't there supposed to be some kind of stigma about the third date? Being me, I mean that in an entirely non-sexual context, as that's what's popping up in my Google-ing. For some reason, I feel like there's something that's supposed to have been significant about date #3 - aside from the fact that I haven't gotten to that many dates with the same person in a very long time.
I was talking to Casanova last night (you'll be introduced to him before long, never fear - both Snow White and I have our tales!) and he mentioned his terror to ask a girl on a second date because that would mean he was committed to at least 10 or 12 dates with her. I thought it was silly, but he is also the most commitment-phobic man I've ever met. I guess The Tenor doesn't have that problem, as this is the third date in less than a week, and there was no sense of this being the last one.
Woah - 3 in less than a week? How does that even happen? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. And within that week there have been at least two group hangouts, as well. Back to the stigma of the number - I may have figured it out. Is this the date where you're supposed to kind of establish what you are - have the dreaded DTR, as it were? A friend last night called him my boyfriend, and while I didn't correct her, I don't know if that was totally applicable. Not that I'm in any rush to define this, I'm perfectly happy just having fun in his company.
In case you're wondering, the date was once again splendid. We had a bite to eat, walked around hand in hand, and saw Super 8 (which I neither truly recommend nor say anything negative of, except for the amount of profanity). He's so much fun to be around, always entertaining and very sweet. I'm definitely looking forward to the rest of my summer!
I was talking to Casanova last night (you'll be introduced to him before long, never fear - both Snow White and I have our tales!) and he mentioned his terror to ask a girl on a second date because that would mean he was committed to at least 10 or 12 dates with her. I thought it was silly, but he is also the most commitment-phobic man I've ever met. I guess The Tenor doesn't have that problem, as this is the third date in less than a week, and there was no sense of this being the last one.
Woah - 3 in less than a week? How does that even happen? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. And within that week there have been at least two group hangouts, as well. Back to the stigma of the number - I may have figured it out. Is this the date where you're supposed to kind of establish what you are - have the dreaded DTR, as it were? A friend last night called him my boyfriend, and while I didn't correct her, I don't know if that was totally applicable. Not that I'm in any rush to define this, I'm perfectly happy just having fun in his company.
In case you're wondering, the date was once again splendid. We had a bite to eat, walked around hand in hand, and saw Super 8 (which I neither truly recommend nor say anything negative of, except for the amount of profanity). He's so much fun to be around, always entertaining and very sweet. I'm definitely looking forward to the rest of my summer!
26 June 2011
firsts!
Hello! and welcome to our blog. Largely inspired by the Anti-Austen blog, this is going to be kind of our kiss-and-tell recording of various escapades that boys get us into. There's so many things we've just wanted to share, but doing so anonymously so no ones toes get stepped on is so much more fun.
I was going to wait so that the inaugural post would be jointly written with the lovely Snow White, but alas and alack she is traveling to far off places, and co-authoring is difficult via text. And I'm just starting to absolutely burst with stories, so here goes!
I went on my first 2nd date in over a year last night. (I've had a few other dates, but only just the one and done kind.) We'll call this one The Tenor. As a music major, I'm a sucker for a boy who sings, though normally I'm drawn to the baritones. The Tenor just oozes so much charm that I've been quite whisked off my feet - literally, as you will see.
We met at a midnight movie premier in a large group of friends. Home for the summer, he's a second cousin of a friend and decided to come along. There was a lot of cute little flirting, and in the middle of the movie I felt his pinky entwined with mine and it was adorable. Out at a diner afterward at 4 am with the group, I for some reason mentioned needing a whisk in my kitchen, and suddenly I found myself spinning through the air in his arms - whisked!
We met again at another group game night, and after more flirtations, some subtle couch cuddling, and some facebook chatting we set up a date night for next week. Somehow, before that one has even had a chance to happen yet, we've managed to squeeze in two more!
The first one, we went out to breakfast. Living almost 40 miles apart, we managed to find a place in the middle, a delightfully tiny hole in the wall with scrumptious food and friendly service, and we sat and talked until the lunch customers began to arrive and we decided we should probably head out to the rest of our days. I love a good conversation, where there's never a lull or awkward moment, and you just can't seem to stop talking to a person.
That night, we actually saw each other again at a broadway sing-along at another mutual friend's house, and he serenaded me and danced with me in the kitchen. I even heard from one of his friends that they'd heard about 'this girl' he talked about and were excited to realize it was me. There was much blushing, I'm sure. He walked me to my car after, and about another hour later we finally said goodnight. Did I mention my love for this kind of effortless conversation?
Date #2 came two days later (still 3 days before our originally proposed first date), after I went with some of my girlfriends to see his show. (Being nicknamed the Tenor, it logically follows that he is a performer!) It was marvelous. Standing around afterward to greet the cast, he inquired as to our plans for after. Upon hearing we had none, he said that it was decided, we were going to go swing dancing. I had thoroughly enjoyed my one dance with him at the sing-along, and even gone on to blog about it on my 'real' blog, which he then read. I just have to say I think it's so sweet that he then acted on my desire (mentioned in the blog) to go to this very swing place soon. Happy sigh.
Dancing we went, and when we left, I told him it was the most fun date I'd ever been on. I'm not a very skilled dancer, but he is, and there's something about dancing with a lead who really knows what he's doing that will make you feel as if you really are graceful. I didn't even ever step on his feet! I was whirled and spun and dipped dangerously low. Most of the evening is a glorious blur of good music and moving feet and his guiding arms. He even said that if I really didn't know how to dance, I just must be one of the best follows ever, and that warmed my heart. The rest of me was quite warm, too, as the Arizona summer is reaching its miserably hot stages.
Dancing really is incredibly personal. You're wrapped up in another person, leading or following, arms around each other, bodies close. You have to communicate, verbally and otherwise. You're likely going to be covered in one anothers' sweat. You have to trust that when he dips you, he won't let you fall. It's really very intimate. I loved it!
Dancing with the Tenor, if I haven't made it clear by now, was a total rush. He's a performer to his core, and I don't think I stopped smiling the whole night, at the dancing or his antics or how much fun we were having. Breathless and with hearts pounding, we danced until the place closed down.
Stepping outside at 11pm, one expects a cool refreshing breeze, but no such luck in the desert. I decided we'd run to the nearest convenience store for a popsicle to cool off, but somehow we ended up at Denny's for ice cream shakes and apple pie à la mode. Again with the fabulous conversation - we finally got in our cars to go our separate ways two hours later.
All in all, I find him incredibly charming. And cuddly. And cute. The combination is probably lethal. I find myself avidly looking forward to the fact that he's hanging out with our group again tomorrow night, and that our date is still planned for the next day - even if it's date number 3 instead of 1. Especially because it's date #3 instead of 1!
I was going to wait so that the inaugural post would be jointly written with the lovely Snow White, but alas and alack she is traveling to far off places, and co-authoring is difficult via text. And I'm just starting to absolutely burst with stories, so here goes!
I went on my first 2nd date in over a year last night. (I've had a few other dates, but only just the one and done kind.) We'll call this one The Tenor. As a music major, I'm a sucker for a boy who sings, though normally I'm drawn to the baritones. The Tenor just oozes so much charm that I've been quite whisked off my feet - literally, as you will see.
We met at a midnight movie premier in a large group of friends. Home for the summer, he's a second cousin of a friend and decided to come along. There was a lot of cute little flirting, and in the middle of the movie I felt his pinky entwined with mine and it was adorable. Out at a diner afterward at 4 am with the group, I for some reason mentioned needing a whisk in my kitchen, and suddenly I found myself spinning through the air in his arms - whisked!
We met again at another group game night, and after more flirtations, some subtle couch cuddling, and some facebook chatting we set up a date night for next week. Somehow, before that one has even had a chance to happen yet, we've managed to squeeze in two more!
The first one, we went out to breakfast. Living almost 40 miles apart, we managed to find a place in the middle, a delightfully tiny hole in the wall with scrumptious food and friendly service, and we sat and talked until the lunch customers began to arrive and we decided we should probably head out to the rest of our days. I love a good conversation, where there's never a lull or awkward moment, and you just can't seem to stop talking to a person.
That night, we actually saw each other again at a broadway sing-along at another mutual friend's house, and he serenaded me and danced with me in the kitchen. I even heard from one of his friends that they'd heard about 'this girl' he talked about and were excited to realize it was me. There was much blushing, I'm sure. He walked me to my car after, and about another hour later we finally said goodnight. Did I mention my love for this kind of effortless conversation?
Date #2 came two days later (still 3 days before our originally proposed first date), after I went with some of my girlfriends to see his show. (Being nicknamed the Tenor, it logically follows that he is a performer!) It was marvelous. Standing around afterward to greet the cast, he inquired as to our plans for after. Upon hearing we had none, he said that it was decided, we were going to go swing dancing. I had thoroughly enjoyed my one dance with him at the sing-along, and even gone on to blog about it on my 'real' blog, which he then read. I just have to say I think it's so sweet that he then acted on my desire (mentioned in the blog) to go to this very swing place soon. Happy sigh.
Dancing we went, and when we left, I told him it was the most fun date I'd ever been on. I'm not a very skilled dancer, but he is, and there's something about dancing with a lead who really knows what he's doing that will make you feel as if you really are graceful. I didn't even ever step on his feet! I was whirled and spun and dipped dangerously low. Most of the evening is a glorious blur of good music and moving feet and his guiding arms. He even said that if I really didn't know how to dance, I just must be one of the best follows ever, and that warmed my heart. The rest of me was quite warm, too, as the Arizona summer is reaching its miserably hot stages.
Dancing really is incredibly personal. You're wrapped up in another person, leading or following, arms around each other, bodies close. You have to communicate, verbally and otherwise. You're likely going to be covered in one anothers' sweat. You have to trust that when he dips you, he won't let you fall. It's really very intimate. I loved it!
Dancing with the Tenor, if I haven't made it clear by now, was a total rush. He's a performer to his core, and I don't think I stopped smiling the whole night, at the dancing or his antics or how much fun we were having. Breathless and with hearts pounding, we danced until the place closed down.
Stepping outside at 11pm, one expects a cool refreshing breeze, but no such luck in the desert. I decided we'd run to the nearest convenience store for a popsicle to cool off, but somehow we ended up at Denny's for ice cream shakes and apple pie à la mode. Again with the fabulous conversation - we finally got in our cars to go our separate ways two hours later.
All in all, I find him incredibly charming. And cuddly. And cute. The combination is probably lethal. I find myself avidly looking forward to the fact that he's hanging out with our group again tomorrow night, and that our date is still planned for the next day - even if it's date number 3 instead of 1. Especially because it's date #3 instead of 1!
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