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February 11, 2007
The Reason My Mother No Longer Reads This Blog
The last few days have proved that I've still got it. Although now that I think about it more closely, "it" may be defined less flatteringly than I'd like. So for the moment, let's define "it" as "highly desirable" rather than "easy", shall we?
It all began on Thursday night when Mr. FWB, in his ongoing effort to educate me in the ways of the world, explained that webcams can be used for more than professional reasons. Things were interrupted slightly when Janie arrived at the house to spend the night (no kindergarten the next day) and breathlessly wanted to know why Aunt Jen was in her room with her door shut. I must invest in a lock post haste since scrambling to keep the door shut is not conducive to seductive behavior.
The weekend kicked off Friday night when I had my first "real" date with Mr. Officer (and a Gentleman)--the guy I met last week. Dear reader, pause a moment with me to wonder once again at the miracle of Ms. Write Again Soon actually meeting a guy in a REAL setting, rather than being set up on the internet. We had dinner in Rosslyn, and while he was just as attractive as I remembered from the weekend before, he looked even hotter after we finished a bottle of wine and some after-dinner liquor. Two and a half hours into the meal we realized that the waitress was ready to throw us out, so we meandered over to the Hyatt hotel bar. (It was the only place we really knew to go, although looking back he probably thought I was giving him a *wink, wink* signal when I suggested it. I swear I wasn't.) Another drink (note to self: Chaitinis are gross) later and we decided...well...it was late and the bar was closing, and there really was no other place to go...when I finally arrived home about 4 a.m. he called to make sure I had gotten home safely, and we made tentative plans to get together again next week. Le sigh.
Saturday continued the merriment, with me sleeping in and getting a little work done before going out to dinner with the family for my sister's birthday. In an ironic twist of fate, Mr. Pilot called (twice--I almost fell over in shock to realize he did indeed know how to pick up the phone) to follow up on our tentative plans to meet. (Dear reader, I can't remember if I mentioned it, but we had a nice talk about our non-relationship earlier in the week and I made it clear that I don't need another FB, but would be potentially interested in continuing a casual dating policy.) Long story short, we met, we saw Smokin' Aces, I spent the night, we ate breakfast and watched Kung Fu movies and Mythbusters all day, and he tickled me until I cried. It was nice, and I think I'm okay with the way things stand.
Today, when I got home I realized I had missed a call from Mr. Doctor (the guy who gives me the creepies, but that I keep thinking Might Have Potential), who was calling to follow up on our tentative plans to meet that afternoon. It was then that I realized there is a limit to my "boy energy". I did not call him back, but instead took a nap. I think I deserved it.
To round out the evening, I just received an email from a guy that my long-ago-next-door-neighbor is trying to set me up with. Clearly she hasn't gotten the message about my burgeoning love life, because here is the way she described him: he's close to 45 years old, needs to lose a little weight, and is probably a little socially awkward. And he lives in upstate New York.
Excellent.
Comments
That last guy sounds like a Winner.
"Hi, my name is George, I'm unemployed, and I live with my parents."
Posted by: jason at February 12, 2007 03:51 PM
Hey hey, just a second Mr. Hipster Dork. We are rather sensitive about "living with the parents" jokes around here...
Posted by: Ms. Write Again Soon at February 12, 2007 04:07 PM
I thought you moved off post.
Posted by: jason at February 12, 2007 08:08 PM
