Is comfortable enough

Let me begin with the fact that I never (or maybe very rarely) dream about people I'm interested in or people I know in any kind of sexual or relationship-y way. However, last night I had what amounted to the sweetest, most realistic dream about one of my own. I don't want to mention his name here right now, but he has appeared on these pages before.

There was a lot more going on in the dream, but I'll just stick to the important parts. I was hanging out with my gentleman friend, and we were discussing our mutual friends. I confess that this one friend has been driving me crazy, and suddenly he kisses me. Full on. The odds of this particular boy doing this in real life are so slim I might win the lottery first (only b/c he is uber shy and wrapped up in layers of awkwardness). We kissed for a long time, and then pulled away and kissed again. We were happy. We were also very adult about it and honest. He looks at me, smiling, and says how comfortable that was. I smile because I was thinking the same thing. It wasn't full of passion or that "thing" that makes you think you might die if you don't kiss them again. It was just like coming home. It was the feeling that I could kiss that person any time I saw them just because I wanted to.

So here's my question to you all. Would comfortable be enough for you?

Where it's at

I've developed a new theory. I think Silver Spring (a DC suburb for those non-Washingtonians) contains an abnormally high percentage of bold single men. Most of the men my friends have met and dated recently live in Silver Spring. NotCharlotte flirted with dating a craigslister from Silver Spring. NotCurly danced into the heart of a Silver Spring boy while partying at the Black Cat.

My own Silver Spring experience seems to confirm this theory. A couple of weeks ago I had a long meeting in Silver Spring and decided to walk up to the Avenue shops and grab something different for lunch (different from my usual McPherson Square environment). Anyway, I wandered around looking at my options and finally decided on Chick-fil-a. All of a sudden this guy walks up to me and is like, "Excuse me. I saw you walking down Georgia Avenue [now...at this time I thought he was going to tell me my skirt was ripped or something] and was so amazed that I had to make the block and come find you." Personally, I seriously question his vision. It was really hot that day, and I was (in my opinion) a hot mess. Anyway, he said he just had to give me his card and that he would like to take me out to dinner. I think I was shocked. I can't remember exactly what all sputtered out of my mouth, but I do know the entire interaction was no more than a couple of minutes. I thanked him and said I would email him that night, explaining that I'm an "email" person. You could tell he didn't believe for a second I would email him.

Ya'll don't know me that well, but I'm not big on meeting strangers. First impressions are hard for me and bonding with people upon first meeting them is difficult. I'm more a third impression kind of girl. That said, he was attractive enough and also seemed nervous...like this was something he didn't do all the time. I found that a bit endearing. Plus, his business card indicated he did film stuff (director and editor). I figure this gave us at least had one thing in common. So, I did what any e-savvy girl would do and googled him when I got home (and also looked at his website). What I saw intrigued me, and I appreciated his moxy. I decided to email, and after jumping through some scheduling loopholes, I have a date scheduled for this Friday with NotMoxy. I'll keep you posted. :-)

If Only...

I would like for there to be a boy on my bed who would keep me up all night even though I have to be to work at 7am. Sleep is seriously overrated...at least for a night. That's the real reason to take a nap in the afternoon. Mmmmhmm.


But alas, I think I will be sleeping alone tonight. I'm probably never going to get any sleep once I don't have roommates, haha.

Night!

Limiting factors

Shouldn't there be a statute of limitations on our issues finally revealing themselves? I am the child of a divorce that left me essentially without a father. He split in the middle of the night when I was 5...didn't really visit...then died when I was 13. Yadda yadda yadda. I've been pretty up on most of the issues this has resulted in, but within the past year I have noticed yet another development.

I seem to have developed an interest in older men. I know this isn't all that unusual and that it's common for women to sometimes seek out their "father" in their dating life, but shouldn't this have manifested much earlier? To date, I have been more well known for my liaisons with younger men. However, within the past year, I have found myself flirting with men who have more silver hair on their head than not.

The latest manifestation of this has been my grandmother's occupational therapist. I met him last time I was in Texas and was immediately attracted to his sarcasm and motorcycle. I'm currently back in Texas for a two-week stint and was veritable wreck at my grandmother's therapy session today. I put on makeup (me...the girl who only wears makeup when she's going "out") and found myself giggling at his jokes. I would vacillate between this and trying not to focus on him because I felt so transparent. The true horror of the situation hit home when I heard my mom giggling along beside me.

Immediate thought: OMG. I am interested in the same guy my mom is.

Don't get me wrong. He's attractive...has tattoos...drives a Harley...is amazing with my grandmother...has amazing eyes. But (and this is a big 'but') he is also divorced and has a teenage son. He is definitely more in my mom's age ballpark than mine. Talk about a wake-up call.

Do I see myself changing? Probably not. I'm at a great age where both younger and older don't seem ridiculous. God, I love my early 30s. As long as they can keep up with me, then why not ;-)

Back at the old den of sin...

Friday night, post-sushi making adventure with NotCarrie, found me needing male attention. Packing up a couple of supplies, I headed to NotCharlotte’s where I knew game night, wine and a certain someone would provide me with the distraction I needed for a few hours. I was not disappointed. I’ll skip the part about actually having fun playing games and drinking wine. Let’s face it…we’re all here for what happened next.

Around 3 am, I looked up and realized that everyone else was gone save NotCharlotte and NotHarry and myself and NotBeast. We were all a little tipsy, and as the evening had progressed, NotBeast and I had been making minor suggestive comments back and forth. I’m not sure if I was purposefully testing the waters, but when we were all outside chatting I leaned back, saying I was cold and he was so warm. I think after he slipped his arm around my waist I knew things were going to get interesting.

As we settled onto the couch and NotCharlotte and NotHarry settled on the floor, someone hit the lights. I felt like a kid in high school trying to fool around and not get caught by my parents. Eventually they moved to the back part of the basement to go to sleep, and I felt a bit more *ahem* free.

Since I’m not penning a romance novel here, I will spare you most of the details, but I have to tell you about my nipple. I just can’t not. Something like this has never happened before. NotBeast is a guy’s guy, and I like aggressive men. The next morning I woke up, and my left nipple was really sore. Really, really sore. As I was showering I noticed skin was missing and was reminded of this all throughout the day as I would get shots of pain when moving wrong. Less than 24 hours later and my nipple had actually scabbed. Scabbed! I like aggressive, but this has never happened before. Ever.

I’m intrigued…horrified…and am trying to figure out how he’ll have to repay me ;-)

Flirting

As I was sitting in the world's worst traffic yesterday (seriously, traffic at 730pm? Why.) I had the following thought:

If I am going to have a boyfriend*, does that mean I have to stop flirting?

And honestly, I was a little distraught about the thought. Flirting is almost second nature to me. It's fun. I enjoy it. I do it...a lot. I don't think I could ever just not do it. The thing is, though, that I don't follow up my flirting with propositions or anything so I think I should be okay continuing the habit. Maybe to a lesser degree, of course. I don't want to be thatgirl.

And yeah, I know the whole, "if you're happy with your guy/girl then you won't be looking elsewhere," but that's not the problem. Like I said, it's not like I am out there propositioning people, I just like to be charming. I almost can't help it;)




*Do NOT jump the gun, please. I said "IF".

On why I love Fridays and friends

Ready to kick off a long weekend at our favorite bar, NotCarrie, NotCharlotte and I grabbed NotGraceful and headed down to Fredericksburg to meet up with a couple of NotCarrie’s other Not characters and imbibe in the ambiance of Spirits.

The stresses of the previous week melted away as we took advantage of $2 kamikazes and began sipping that first Jack & Coke. As is typical for Spirits, you stand around long enough and a random assortment of characters find their way to you. NotShorty (we’re talking 6’8’’ here, people) adopted our group early on. Finally, being the oldest in our group got me something as NotShorty swore he was at least 10 years older than everyone present. Shocked I was 31, I smiled as I took the drink as my prize.

Several drinks later, our flirt-o-meters were off the charts and the conversation (and night) took a turn for the interesting. Why don’t we do this “choose your own adventure” style? Which Friday night shenanigan do you want to read about?

- NotGraceful claimed you couldn’t get a hickie from biting, so I proved him wrong*.
- I turn around and NotCarrie had somehow wound up in a conversation that involved guessing what her cup size is.
- Me winding up tipsy enough to end up with my tongue in NotShorty’s mouth in the middle of the bar but not drunk enough to take him up on the ride home from his place the next morning.
- NotCarrie explaining to NotGraceful what steamrolling is in her front yard.
- Sticking my head out the window barreling down I-66 while kissing on the outside of the car.
- Losing both my flip flops and my cell phone as I attempted to ford a river.
- Strip poker until 5 am in the morning.

And that’s just my evening. Curious?


*Poor guy is still wearing a bandaid to work ; )

Rabid Pussy

The Game Warden just came to investigate what may have been a rabid cat near my house. Sadly, this possibly-rabid cat sort of reminded me of myself. Check it...

I was talking with a friend earlier about tomorrow night's plans and we both almost simultaneously expressed our hopes for all the "new, single, hott males" who might be where we are going. It was one step away from foaming at the mouth in anticipation of all the meat we could potentially encounter at the parties and bars.

Lately I've been feeling like I'm on a constant manhunt where I view every situation as one with potential. Not that I don't think that's a good mindset to have, but when I find myself imagining, Ally McBeal style, jumping across counters to attack male prey, I know it's gone a bit far. I haven't progressed to this erratic behavior (yet), but with the severe lack of play I'm getting, coupled with the even more severe lack of potentials in my group of friends, I'm afraid of what my diseased* mind might do.

And let's talk about this extremely severe lack of potentials that has us chicas plagued. The group dynamic has once again shifted and left us with a total cooter fest. I miss the days of yore when I had oodles of guy friends who, in turn, had oodles of guy friends. It's six degrees of guy friends and I miss it dearly. I mean, desperately.

So, like that rabid cat, I need some meat and I'd prefer mine to be in the form of male. And soon, please, because really? the foaming at the mouth can't be attractive.



Too bad the game warden wasn't hot...


*Hey, lack of kissing is a disease in my book!