And the world's biggest cock tease award goes to...

So tonight’s date has been cancelled. He called last night when I got off because there was an emergency that popped up at work with a new project, and he is being flown to Maine this morning for meetings all weekend. Bust. He explains how disappointed he is. He then asks if I want to come over right now…share a drink. It was 1:00 am. I know what you’re thinking because I was thinking the same thing. Was this just a hook up? Was I sending the wrong message by going over there in the middle of the night? Screw it. I like this guy and was into the idea of some action. I took a deep breath and wrote down directions to his house.

(below is the series of emails I sent NotCarrie...much easier than trying to tell you the story any different way.)

I got there and refused to go inside until he told me he wasn't crazy. It was nice because we actually talked, and he didn't jump me right away. Also nice because we share similar viewpoints on life and interests. The second drink and he sits closer (I sat down first this time). All of a sudden, wham, he kisses me and we're making out on the couch. I become very aware that he has an erection and tell him I don't want to get him going too much...

...he's a good kisser and figured out pretty quickly I liked to be kissed on my neck. Anyway, he moves back into his personal space, and we talk some more. Pretty much the rest of the night is this push-pull thing of making out and me keeping him at bay from taking it further. We were in the kitchen and (blush) he pretty much puts me on the counter. I couldn't let that go on for long because it was too hott and would have went south fast....

When we're headed back to the couch after the kitchen he comes up behind me and pulls my hair a little. Also kind of hott. Am going to skip what he did next but, again, he was held at bay (too bad because it was really nice). I told him I needed to leave by 3, and he kept saying I needed to stay. I told him we weren't doing this tonight. Said what would he think of me. Seriously, I like this guy and didn’t want to be the easy lay. Maybe I am old-fashioned ; ) He gets all excited because he says he has the perfect song. He goes running off to his car to grab it, only to come back empty handed. He tells me it's this Andre 3000 song about the girl worrying what the guy would think and the guy thinking she just knew what she wanted, blah, blah. Anyway, his ploy to get me to stay.

He says I have to at least come up and see his quarters. I knew this was a bad idea but went anyway. What the hell. I like house tours. Anyway, he pushes me up against the wall and eventually the bed for more kissing. Only problem is that on the bed I can definitely feel a certain something wanting make a grand entrance. He was more persistent, and I'll admit harder to resist. Part of me was about to go for it. However, I didn't. I pushed him off and got up. Told him I had to leave and that it was hotter to leave him wanting. Hahahaha. I told him I wanted him to be hard all day today because he didn't get any. Yes, I'm a bitch. Poor guy could barely make it down the stairs. A few more requests to stay, and I made it out the door and home. We'll see if he calls ; )

Houston...it is confirmed. We have sexual tension.

Let me back up. My date for Friday* was in the store last night (he tutors high school math there every Tuesday and Thursday), and I would swear he reads this blog. After chatting via email** off and on all day, he raced to the store to chat with me before I clocked in. In the past, we've been pretty good at the "making eyes" but not much else. However, as I was about to walk into the breakroom, he stepped really close, making it difficult for me to breathe. I think I did that thing where I look up through my eyelashes and ducked inside.

As the night progressed, he would take periodic breaks from tutoring and would either stop by and say hi or pass me with that look. At one point, we were back in the science section, and he was asking questions about math textbooks. He grabbed my hand under the auspices of looking at my tattoo and moved in closer. This man was about to back me up against the shelves and kiss me. It was that move! Despite the fact that I was having trouble breathing and was a little weak, I am nothing if not a tease and wasn't about to let him kiss me like that before we even went out. I performed this rather amazing duck-graze move and walked away, kind of chuckling to myself because I know he was dying.

Before he left, he found me once again to say goodbye. The sexual tension hung in the air. I don't care if that's cliche...it did. Making sure to touch my arm twice as idle banter continued, he finally left.

Looks like the question of chemistry has been answered. Friday should prove interesting.


*His going to Puerto Rico for work and my well booked schedule made this Friday the earliest we could get together.
**Finally talking to this guy online was SUCH a relief. I was having a hard time dealing with a strictly phone/face-to-face person.

It's Electric

You know those moments in books, when the author describes the electricity between a man and a woman when their hands touch, and it seems like one of those perfect moments where time sort of stands still for that split second? Have you ever had a moment that sort of seems like that, but then, after the fact, you're not sure if you just imagined it? Maybe the reality was one thing, but then your daydreaming self continued on inside your head.

I wish those electrical moments between a guy and a girl had the same reaction as a wintergreen lifesaver crunched in the dark. It would be nice to have an indicator, ya know? Because even when all signs point to affirmative, I'd still like a sign.

It's Hard to Take Risks

As much as I hate to blog immediately after NotMiranda, I have a story I feel the need to tell all of you notreaders...

A few semesters ago, I had a gigantic crush one one of the guys in my English class. I do remember blogging about him before, but it never went anywhere. I've always followed along with his life through those stupid addictions (Facebook and Myspace), and we'd have brief conversations via comments.

He is 100% my type of guy. I never blogged about him before because he was always just a guy in the back of my mind, never anyone worth blogging about because really, what good is it to just pine after someone?

I am such a girl too, because on the off occasion I do see him, I sort of look away and/or ignore him.

Today, I decided to be bold.
I finally got up the nerve to email him today, asking him out.

He hasn't written back yet, but my nerves are shot waiting to see if he does.

Apologies to the masses

When getting drunk in the middle of a Friday afternoon, there are several lessons to be learned. First and foremost...NEVER, EVER CARRY YOUR CELL PHONE WITH YOU.

My sincere apologies to all of those I inadvertently came on to. Best lines I discovered on my phone this morning...

"Mango dribble...reminds me of your semen."

"Omg...so drunk and horny. At Smith & Wollensky. Hahahaha."

Sigh.

Its like a compliment and yet not...

I posted a bit about my birthday weekend, but I left out this little tidbit because I wasn't sure it would amount to anything.

Turns out it amounted to something, but not something I want.

I was running late for my birthday dinner at The Melting Pot with NotASong, NotDippy and NotANinja and after parking my car I was hurrying to the door when I was stopped by this line, "You are so beautiful, you have got to let me take you to dinner." Looking over I saw a fine specimen of a man. Tall, dark haired and built stocky (I like my men with meat on their bones). I started to just blow him off, but he approached with an air of confidence and so decided to go with it. Here's sort of how the conversation went.*

Me: *laughs*
Him: Can I get your number
Me: I don't have time to give you my number, I'm late for my birthday dinner.
Him: Oh, well Happy Birthday. Can I give you my number

At this point he approaches me and takes my hand (his are much bigger than my large hands, which is a plus for him), and then hands me his business card (which at least validates the existence of a job).

Him: My name is....
Me: Nice to meet you....Well, I have to go. I'll give you a call.

Following that I go to dinner where I explain the reason why I was later than expected and to show off the business card. I had planned to email him instead of call and did so a few days before I left on vacation. I was encouraged by his email back and thus we started our conversation. He suggested we meet somewhere close by the Friday after I returned from San Francisco and I agreed. Unfortunately, the weather did not agree and on Friday I had to cancel the date because of it. Divine intervention, I would find out later could possibly be blamed for this.

Yesterday's and todays emails were us trying to reconnect and set up a time to meet. We were in the process of negotiating which day this weekend we would see each other when he mentions, "I think there are some things we need to discuss that might be important." I was confused. We had yet to officially meet for any sort of date and we already had "important" things to discuss? So, of course, my email back to him asked about these things of import.

And what I got back blew me away.

"As 4 discussing important things. I can’t remember if I told you I’m a married man. But having a young lady as a special friend is always welcome with me. The question is do you have a problem with it."

Bad grammar aside, I was pissed. He's married!?! WTF!?! And he wants me as a "special friend?" I had to reread the line several times just to make sure I had read it correctly. And it didn't change and my blood pressure got higher. I closed the email and went about the rest of my day because the level of disgust I felt, I just couldn't deal with.

Later that evening, I called my mother to share this bit of information with her. And her response was "Well you could take it as a compliment that he thought you would be worth endangering his marriage for." But I was still appalled. I didn't want to ever skirt along the edge of becoming "she of the home wrecking." When I finally got home and was able to deal with the email I simply wrote him back and told him that "unfortunately, for you don't date married men." I deleted the email after I had sent my piece and went to bed. I woke up to another email from him, this time asking for an opportunity to win me over.

So not amused by this.

I'm now a little less unhappy about being single. Especially if this is the sort of thing that cheating husbands would do. My mother said to take its as a compliment, but I can only see the insult. He made an assumption that I would be willing to date him and possibly have more, despite the fact that he was married. I don't know if I'm more upset about the fact that he asked me out or the fact that he thought it would be okay to betray his vows.

Compliment my ass, its an insult and I will give it the proper vitriol and disdain it deserves.

*I say sort of because I don't remember the actual words, but I get the gist of it right.

Beware the devil with the red hair

Why am I allowing myself to flirt with someone at work? We're not talking the part-time bookstore gig. I will readily flirt there and just last night secured that phone number for my upcoming date. However, this is the "real" job...the one that pays the bills and flexes the brain. It's been so long since an available male even worked here that I was a bit thrown by the initial flirtatious banter. Perhaps it's the mood he* has had me in as of late.

*I'm not allowed to blog about him anymore, but he knows who he is. ; )

Cutting loose in San Francisco...

I've never been to the West Coast.

Stop laughing.

Seriously, I've never been to the West Coast. And in true Not! fashion I decided it was time to remedy that...

"So I packed my bags, grabbed my wallet and bikini and rode off into the sunset. I arrived in San Francisco where my lover NotItalian was there to sweep me off my feet and in a lavish fashion squired me through the city."

Yeah right.

What really happened was that I took a flight, stayed in a hostel and was nearly walked to death around the city by NotaSong and NotthePretteh. But I had a wonderful time. I nibbled on french made quiche, I walked the "Worlds Crookedest Street" and I had the pleasure of having two old Italian men call myself and the two ladies I was with "angels."

San Francisco is a city the way I like it. Bustling, busy, alive. And given the past year, this was definitely what I've needed. I loved every bit of this trip.

Even the part where I kissed the drunken guy who bought our group shots on Saturday night.

duh duh duh....

Things That Make Me Swoon

Things That Make Me Swoon:

+Playing the guitar.
+Dancing in the car.
+Eye contact that means something. It either makes me laugh, makes me feel better, or puts me at ease.
+Overhearing a phone call home.
+Threatening to tickle me, but NOT DOING IT. If I can trust you not to tickle me, we're golden.
+Ordering first.
+Holding my hand.
+Writing good emails. And often.
+Smiling when you see me even if you're in a bad mood.
+And then letting me help you get out of the bad mood.
+Making me mix CDs that fit my mood perfectly.


To be cont....

Please please please let me get what I want

A week or so ago, I put up an ad on a popular dating site. Within minutes of my 4 sentence-long description, I received no less than 15 responses.
This shocked me, seeing as how my ad, while witty, was highly specific and in some cases a bit snarky. I soon dropped everything else I had been doing and proceeded to sort my way through the weeds of scruffy men that I had requested.
I sifted through profiles that:

• detailed height, weight, build, as well as stereotypes to which I was turned off of (running, weightlifting, beer pong)
• apologized for their lack of scruffiness, but promised they made up for it in their knowledge of music and/or poetry
• confessed this was the first time they'd been to said dating site and apologized if they said too much/not enough (I got seven of these, no lie)
• seemed to be copy and pasted from several emails to several different profiles/ads. These amused me to no end because they had nothing to do with what I was asking for, until the last few lines said in "P.S." form. Come on guys...

Once these fool's gold nuggets were thrown from my web, I emailed a few prospective candidates. I narrowed my favorites down to four and after a bit of (or lack of) email traffic, I'm down to two. The two that I dropped were either too spastic or too obsessive. I spoke on the phone with the latter of those two and realized that this guy mistook "scruffy" for "gay." Plus, he further freaked me out by mentioning not once, not twice, but three times sentences with "well, when we're dating" somewhere in them. No, we had not met yet. And no, we are not going to meet. Ever. Creepy!

The two I've set my sights on right now, I have decided not to talk about yet. I happen to believe that when you speak about something that you hope to happen, it won't. Call me crazy, but at least I'm not jumping to conclusions.

Too Flirty And Suggestive? Is There Such A Thing!?

Sometimes it's too easy. The opening in the conversation is there and I just have to say the next thing that wants to come out of my mouth. Oh, and it's always flirty, of course. Suggestive even, at times. It's almost habit now. I can formulate the line as the conversation goes on and when the timing is right, I slip it in for the reaction.

I've been wondering lately, though, if I'm letting these come ons and suggestive replies out into my regular conversations too often. I am afraid they're losing their effect and validity. Like, it's just going in one ear and out the other with the people with whom I'm serious. The other day I said to someone something to the effect of "making him feel better...in the back." (And NO, I'm not talking anal-omg. I was referring to the backroom of where we were located.) He barely flinched, though. Either he didn't 'get' what I was saying, or these replies have become way too common for me.

And it's not like I always expect a reaction when I flirt or really expect the recipient of my awesome come ons to respond with actions, but I fear that they are all being lumped into one big blob of "Guys NotCarrie Flirts With." That would be terrible! I may flirt a lot, but I'm pretty true to who I'm actually after. I would hate for my truest intentions to be mistaken as friendly, flirtatious banter.

Solo Track

I am having a serious case of One Track Mind. Hooking up with someone is just about all I can think about and it's not even some crazy salacious need I have, I just want some good ol' fashioned making out. Why is this so difficult?!

Getting Pens, Pt. 2

Nothing beats a work crush*. To be stuck somewhere 40 hours a week with noone to flirt with is beyond cruel, so when I find myself planning my breaks to match someone else's I tend to get a little excited. You know, the awesome kind of excited that is accompanied by manic butterflies in your stomach and the constant need for minty gum. I love those damn butterflies!

In addition to hoping for crossed-paths, I also am finding myself checking out various locations where a mid-day makeout could occur. If you will remember, at my previous job I called this "getting pens" as I often found myself wishing for a certain ex-work crush to meet me in the supply closet for an office tryst. Well, at this job, we don't exactly have a supply closet, but there are definitely some areas that would offer the amount of privacy needed. Today, I made a head nod for someone to come over and, had I been more forward, would have gone for it had I been sure I would be met with success. Instead of making my move, though, I made sure to work it and reverse it with some major flirting and eye-fucking**.

So nothing has happened...yet, but if I "get pens" with anyone, you will be the first to know!





*Well, a work boo would probably beat that.
**As always, TM Barmaid.

Cradle to Grave

How young is too young in the world of dating? A hott* customer at my part-time job started chatting me up three or four weeks ago, and tonight, he finally got up the nerve to ask me out. Of course, I said yes (see footnote below), but he looks all of 23 or 24. In case you've forgotten or somehow missed the age post, I'm 31. Is a seven year age difference too much when it's the woman who's older?

For the moment, I've decided I don't care. He's hott and interested, and I don't actually know how old he is. Besides, it's just a date.


*nice, well-dressed, good looking....

Sometimes being born of the Day of Heaven and Hell isn't that bad...

In true Not!Fashion the girls gave me a wonderful sendup for my birthday, which began with getting my roll on.

That's right, you read correctly, I got my roll on...and nearly fell on my ass.

Since we all got to do what we wanted (or have who we wanted for our birthdays), I had already decided early on that I wanted to go rollerskating, and then head back to my place for the after party (like the true movie star that I am).

So NotCarrie, Not Miranda, (NotCharlotte in abstentia, since she was setup girl for the afterparty) and yours truly made our way to the semi-local (read Manassas), skating establishment, where we proceeded to roll out onto the floor and nearly get sideswiped by the younger set that were definitely in effect.

I was joined by many of my friends: NotFey and boyfriend NotMoney along with NotDiva, NotBuxom and NotShakespeare were all there lending a helping hand, arm or shoulder if needed, or cutting up if not. It was discovered, that no, skating is not like riding a bike and the skills do not magically return when the gear is put back on. Furthermore, it made me loathe djs who don't know when to hush it and let me skate. I did all the skating I could before my feet decided I would best be served by leaning along the one lone carpeted wall.

Then came the afterparty.

Surprisingly, I didn't drink as much, I didn't grope anyone and I didn't finish my pack of cloves...I'm almost disappointed in myself. I did however, get my first trendy bag, a wonderful pink apron (Baking Queen will probably be stitched on it soon), and my very own penis shaped shot glass. I danced a little, was wrapped in streamers at one point and noshed on awesome cupcakes and coconut bars made by NotCharlotte. All said and done the party was a rousing success. Further proof that along with excellent taste, I have even better friends.

Text me baby one more time

I finally ended my tawdry text relationship last week. NotAvailable was bloody hott and had me admitting my every fantasy, pushing all of the right buttons. NotAvailable had a girlfriend, though. I knew this right from the start and left my heart out of the matter. I also attempted to check my guilt at the door, telling myself she was just a girlfriend and should know her man better. The games we were playing, the excitement won out. I was on the verge of saying yes to the weekend in London when something made me pause. Something he said made me ask if his girlfriend lived with him. Turns out she had recently moved in. I ended it that day, telling him we couldn’t talk anymore. Call me hypocritical, but there is a level commitment you make to someone when you decide to live together. It’s more serious, something I couldn’t mess with. If I’m being completely honest, I was a tad sad when I realized it would have to end. Another reason that the timing to say goodbye was right. When you decide to play with fire and someone in a relationship, your emotions should be left out of it.