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December 12, 2006
Drrty Grrl
As Mr. Paramilitary High School points out, it has been nearly a week since my last briefing on The Boy Situation (TBS). So while I sit here and listen to an excruciatingly long conference call for the Big Idea, let me recap:
Mr. Pilot
Mr. Pilot met my friends at a happy hour on Thursday. While they all fled for their suburban homes within 30 minutes of him arriving (with the exception of Mr. Bad Apologies, who engaged us in an entertaining sex toys conversation for a good twenty minutes), I think they didn't hate him (or vice versa). All in all, he was pretty quiet and--to my disappointment--did not engage Ms. Maryment in a game of brinksmanship over celebrity gossip knowledge. Next time perhaps.
Anyway, we left together and said goodbye at the subway--him traveling back to NoVa and me driving back to MoCo. He was leaving early the next morning for an overnight golf trip with his guy friends, and was then leaving on Sunday for another trip.
So long story short, I haven't heard from him since Thursday, and I can't tell if he's blowing me off or has just been busy. Last week he called me on Monday night, and so I was half-expecting a call last night--but no luck. I'm not really letting myself think about it too much (not true, WHY DOESN'T HE LOVE ME??), and am keeping busy with other young men.
Mr. Friends With Benefits
First off, let me say that Mr. FWB should really be called Mr. FB, since we have long since given up the farce of being friends and have neatly segued into something more practical (and I'll let you figure out the acronym yourself, dear reader). But I'm not complaining, since he has actively pursued a very *interesting* arrangement that makes a threesome look like the missionary position. Unfortunately, the adventure scheduled for Saturday was cancelled at the last minute due to a work conflict. If Mr. Pilot and I don't elope to Vegas, we're planning to reschedule for sometime in January--at which time I will decide how detailed to get in my recollections.
Mr. Doctor
I just can't figure him out. After playing phone tag for the last week, we finally talked last night. It was a great conversation, and we made plans to meet next week after our respective trips have concluded. I was thinking, "hmm, maybe" when he concluded with...
And I guess I owe you a big, wet kiss.
WTF? I have no response to that, other than to immediately want to go brush my teeth--and not in a good, anticipatory sort of way.
Mr. Bethesda
In preparation for my adventure with Mr. FWB, I called in a favor from Mr. Bethesda this weekend, who very generously (and gently) introduced me to a new thing. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that it basically met my expectations. Namely, it is tolerable, but NOT HOT AT ALL, despite what porn movies would have you believe.
The most noteworthy part of the whole evening was when I got up to leave. As I was pulling on my clothes, he reached over and said, "why don't you sleep here for a bit?" When I replied that sleeping over was the *one* thing that consistently made me an overly emotional, relationship-wanting girl, he said, "so what's wrong with that?"
That ship has sailed, dear readers, and I told him so.
Comments
WOW. I say again, I applaud your willingness to try new things, even if they don't work out so well. If nothing else, it reflects a lust for life.
Posted by: Elizabeth at December 13, 2006 04:52 PM
