"Like you need it. Pretty amazing already."

R., in response to my saying that I was going to a happy hour with makeover tonight while he was taking his kid sister to the movies. Yeah, we're at that point, where we tell each other what we're doing every night.

We're also at a point where still all we've done is kiss, but it's getting a tad more risque... long story short he said he'd give me a massage if I didn't feel like throwing up at the thought of him touching me (in response to me saying I would throw up at the thought of a specific someone else touching me), to which I replied he was making me blush--I'm such a demure Southern gal--to which he pretty much replied, yeah right, we'll see about that tomorrow (when the massage happens).

And I can't reiterate enough how weird it all feels, to really want to be with him, to not feel trapped by telling him where I am, and to not look around wondering if there's someone better out there. I definitely haven't seen one yet! (But you know me, I can't throw in the forever towel this early... some stunnas might still catch my eye)

Off to hang out with the girls I go! Can't lose sight of them, obvi.

Couples Weekend

Can you imagine me on a couples' weekend? I cannot, and yet there I was, all weekend, half of a couple. It was me and R., R. and me, all weekend.

Friday night, movie at my place. Saturday afternoon, my work party. Saturday night, his friend's going-away party. Sunday all day, tubing with his co-workers (FROZE MY ASS OFF), break from each other, movie Sunday night.

THE KISS FINALLY HAPPENED! Hallelujah, he's not gay, we're not just friends, and I'm not crazy!

Monday, party with his friends. It's like taking the baby out for its first showing, where everyone oohs and ahhs about how cute it is... we're out, together, around each other's friends. Or more specifically, I was around his friends, because he had met a lot of mine, but not in a couple-y setting like this weekend, where he was a date to a party.

And here is the weirdest thing, doubters, I barely noticed. I didn't freak out. I didn't get sick of being around him.

...that's some scary stuff. I could be half of a couple soon. That hasn't happened since I was like 19!

So I'm Behind... I have new job responsibilities!

I know I was trying to post every day, but the new job responsibilities have taken precedence! Which is good. But anyway, like I've mentioned before, it also gets more boring when you have a steady someone and aren't running around with many someones.

But the thing is, I'm never boring. And I'm never just with one steady someone. R. wouldn't come over last night after I got back from dinner with friends, which is perfectly reasonable, so I called JJ in Cali. We talked for like 45 minutes, and he wants to move somewhere and start new...

...he doesn't have the balls to do it, but the mere thought of him moving here is enough to make me wonder what it would be like if we dated. Which sucks, because I don't want to wonder what it'd be like to date anyone else, I want to try dating R. and only R.

But can I give up the thrill of the balancing act? The never-getting-too-attached-to-one-because-there's-always-another? Can I be upset that R. won't come over and not have someone to call and just deal with it?

It's that life-long THING I've had with missing out. I couldn't sleep as a baby because I didn't want to miss out on anything. I couldn't date one guy through college because I didn't want to miss out on another. I couldn't travel after I graduated because I didn't want to miss out on an awesome job.

And I'm happy I did things the way I did. But when can I trust that I'm not missing out on anything by doing what I'm doing? I'm happy with my career right now--definitely not missing out. Definitely in the thick of things. So can I be happy with my choice of men, and let JJ alone?

But then there's always the what if, the what if JJ was the one and by choosing R., I'm missing out on JJ?!

This, my friends, is why I don't try to settle down. It's too hard.

Dog-blocked and then my bad

Went to watch a movie over at R.'s last night and brought my beloved canine companion, Yukon. Yukon doesn't like men, but has taken a liking to R., so that's a good sign.

Yukon has a history of dog-blocking, the pet version of the cock-blocking phenomena when a man tried to "block" his friend from hooking up with a hot girl. When my platonic friend hopped into bed with me one night, he hadn't even gotten under the covers before she dove in between us and settled happily down to sleep. Is she being employed by my parents?! So last night she sat between us on the couch until we pushed her off so that I could rest my head on R.'s shoulder. This is a big step for us, you will remember, as we haven't even kissed yet.

So about an hour into the movie, my phone rings and I sit up to answer. Yukon immediately dives between me and R., and then, ridiculously enough, puts her head on R.'s shoulder!

Awesome. My dog blocked me and then tried to steal my man, and she doesn't even like men!

I also have to confess: I think the kiss finally could have happened, but it was my fault it didn't. My bad. I asked R. to come with me to a work party, and after some deliberation he agreed. We're standing in the parking lot after an extended hug where we stood without our arms around each other, and I start rocking side to side in a nervous--but kinda cute--way... and he can't kiss me, obviously, because my face is moving from side to side!

What a weenie. It's just that there's so much build up to this now, and I'm not worried about the kiss being bad or good, it's more about ambiance, which is admittedly quite silly. But I've never had one of those storybook kisses that wasn't in a parking lot or in a bed or in a bar or on a couch, so I want one! And poor guy, R. is having to suffer this tremendous wait for one little kiss, when my nickname used to be The Kissing Bandit!

The Weekend Report... wait, there's not much to report

Not much to report only because the dear fella that I am seeing is... I don't even know a word to describe it! Suffice it to say that he apparently likes me enough to come back from out of town to go to my friend's graduation party, but after a late-night swim and (swimsuit-clad) romp in the hot shower, there was still NO kissing!

And then a sleepover, featuring five feet of space between us the entire night.

Awesome. Why is it that almost all guys are crazy-eager to jump into the physical aspect of relationship, and I finally meet one who isn't, and it's driving me crazy?!

I respect it, on the one hand. But on the other, I need chemistry! And if he sucks at kissing, I'm not kidding, it is a DEAL BREAKER. I am young, I deserve kisses, and good ones at that. All I can say is that the whole mystique of the build-up better lead to one helluva kiss! Oh wait, but I mean no pressure or anything... man, what if I am the one who sucks at kissing?

Nah...

Ohhhhh but wait, I did forget about my good friend JJ, who texted me out of nowhere the night R. and I were at my friend's grad party. He misses me. And wants me. And spent all of last night, the second consecutive night, convincing me that I wasn't interested in him, despite my repeated offering that I wouldn't know if I was interested in him or not because he always has a girlfriend. He told me he left one for the other. I told him this was irrelevant, because I do not crush on attached men, end of story. He didn't get it.

And he won't, he lives in L.A. and rocks the L.A. lifestyle, the one I hate. And even if he was single, he would be out there, and I would be out here. But he is tall, hot, and gave his Escalade to his little sister (who I taught how to wakeboard) so he could get a Lexus...

When it rains, it pours, eh?

Oh Gold's, Reasons You Shouldn't Disco Nap, and I made a Girl Friend

Busy day yesterday! The girl trainer at Gold's and I swapped numbers yesterday and talked about going out, or at least meeting up. I solidified my new girl friendship! Those aren't easy for me to make, but now I have three of them! I'm getting so good at LIFE.

Also, none of my cadre of trainers were at Gold's yesterday, so you might think I would go one day without getting hit on. Never fear, however, someone will always come through. I'm happily ellipsing away, reading Allure, when I see this guy walk over to the ellipser area and kind of scan the whole scene. Nothing is open near me. He hops on the ellipser next to a relatively cute girl, despite the fact that there are four open next to that one, and most people get as far away from others as possible--or at least I do. Anyway, I smile and think, 'aw, how cute, he thinks she's cute.'

The woman on the ellipser next to me gets off, and lo and behold!, the guy gets off his ellipser and moves to the one next to me. In his defense, I get on this kind of ellipser because it's better, harder, and maybe he was on one of the wimpy ones. But what are the odds? He glances over at me a lot, but I act completely absorbed in Allure. Maybe he's just competitive, checking out my speed and calorie burn...

My brother played late last night, and I had all intentions of going. At 11, I climbed into bed in my clothes to wear to the show for a sweet disco nap. At 12:15, I awoke to my phone alarm, called my ride (ahem, my parents) and told them no way, no how.

Disco naps: good in theory, bad in practice.

Two polar opposite thoughts

Two polar opposite thoughts: number one, we were at Oasis today for a business lunch that involved greasy nachos and tasty margaritas. Sweet gig. But the sun started shining a little too brightly and I broke a small sweat. Our previously outrageously UNattentive waiter stopped by to see if I needed another umbrella, to which I obviously replied, yesplease! He proceeded to move the stand around to position the umbrella best for me, and then bring an umbrella out of storage just to shade me. I felt sort of like a princess, minus the palm leaf and grapes, which I don't care for much anyway.

J., who you will remember essentially spawned this blog, watched it all unfold and as he walked away, turned to our (very fun) dining companion, mildly astounded, and said, "She has this crazy affect on men!" Aw, she got to spectate. Too bad he was the slowest server alive.


Thought number two is entirely antithetical to the point of the blog: will I be settling into a relationship soon? Last night, R. came over to my friend's house after telling me he wasn't going to, and proceeded to just hang out... we weren't really doing much, sipping on some beers, chatting, watching the Spurs game... it was pretty chill. I was worried he'd be disappointed, because I had offered up washers but when we arrived no one was particularly enthused about the whole thing.

So when I got a text message from him telling me how much fun I was to hang out with, surprised doesn't really cover my reaction. I think I was more in awe of this guy, because what guy sits around while I gossip with my friends, hangs out with my dog, and texts me afterward telling me that he enjoys my company?!

R. is a stellar guy. And I haven't gotten bored yet, which is always the worry. Maybe it's because we haven't kissed yet. Maybe that's why I'm holding out...

And another one down, and another one down, another one... at Gold's Gym

I went in to my fave gym again yesterday... now, normally going to the gym boosts my self-esteem because I look at myself in the mirror a lot while lifting, naturally, but I'm focused in entirely on the muscle I am working, so rather than seeing my stomach bulge, I see my bicep flex and straighten, flex and straighten, flex and straighten--which makes me feel strong and ripped. Of course, walk away from the mirror and into the locker room, and I'm back to seeing the slightest bulge under my t-shirt.

But at Gold's, my self esteem goes up for an entirely different reason, and that is because I can't meet one of the guys that works there without feeling like he's interested! Now, this could just be the way they treat girls because they are trying to get them to sign up so that they can watch them on the gym floor all day in their short-shorts. Fine. But I think it's also the ease with which I talk to them... because the gym is such a comfortable environment for me.

For instance, yesterday I am getting my free one month membership that I "won" set up, but a new guy is helping me. He looks like you expect a trainer to look: beefy in the shoulders and chest, almost coming out of his shirt, but with disproportionate legs and a pinhead. Anyway, he's either shy or doesn't think I'm cute at first, but by the end, he's flustered and prints my form wrong and can hardly say bye. I think this is because I joked and flirted and asked him questions about himself like we were old high school friends catching up.

Which is how I enjoy being. I want to be like that with everyone. And not because I want all the male attention, but because it makes people feel good. If only I could feel good enough to be that way all the time, and not just in my little gym haven...

People are Amazing

So the 21 year old broke my bed the other day... and not doing what you think! He was demonstrating a fall he took wakeboarding, and the bedframe broke when he body-slammed my bed. So despite the fact that we haven't talked since last Thursday because I was completely put off by the way he reacted when I wanted him to comfort me emotionally over the loss of my best friend, he texted me today to tell me that he was buying me a bedframe.

I jokingly responded that I was happy, but he also had to set it up, to which he replied, "no problem. Just leave the key..."

Just leave the key?! HE doesn't even want to see ME?! I ask him something to this effect but slightly less needy and he says he's busy with friends back in town and is happy to do it while I'm gone. No problem.

So I don't have to take the cowardly way out and never call him again, a la Mr. Man With My Last Name who I "dated" and never heard from again earlier this year. We are somehow mutually agreeing not to see each other anymore, and he is STILL fixing my bed. Amazing.

People are truly amazing.

And this truly is a new era in my dating life-- good guys from here on out...

Surprise! Guys have a damn radar

I enjoy posting in the afternoon as a way to wind down the day, but I can't help but post right now. So this weekend I got a surprise text from my ex-boyfriend. This isn't any old ex, though, this is THE EX. The ex that you could say broke my heart, but it goes beyond that, because we dated 5 years ago and something about him continues to pull at the heart strings (maybe his bimonthly phone calls?), which is as frustrating as it is utterly puzzling.

So I talked to him that night, partially because his dad died last summer and my best (guy) friend just died six weeks ago, so I thought he could relate like no one could, and partially because I was curious. He told me then that he had sent an email to an old account of mine, so obviously I had to go check it today.

Long story short, it read "i'm sorry" + a laundry list of things he had done to me... the most shocking being "not wanting to understand your feelings." I was impressed that he recognized that he didn't want to understand them, rather than thinking that he just didn't understand. See, he's a good guy after all?

Absolutely not!

He has, and all guys have, a friggin' radar. When a new romance is cropping up and I think I'm rid of THE EX forever, up he pops! Things are really good with R., who is my first legitimate romance since god knows when, possibly ever. It's definitely the first thing to start out this way--slow, easy, lots of hanging out but nothing physical, and no dates (yay! dates stress me out). The first thing since THE EX and me, anyway, who started out as basketball buddies before one thing led to another and our first kiss was in the parking lot outside of the gym.

Why does THE EX have to come along and confuse my heart, as much as I tell myself I won't let him? He still does, how can he not? He is my past, his manipulation of me is my legacy, and I can't ignore his significance in my life. Which isn't fair to R.! I just got done with his 21 year old competitor, and THE EX has to be reintroduced?

How IS it that exes have a radar for this sort of thing?!

Or is it me, somehow, like I let him in to sabatoge what I have going with R. because I am scared to get in a relationship because I don't want it to turn out like mine and THE EX's, which ironically ruins my chances of having anything but the bare threads of what once was a relationship between me and THE EX?!

This is ridiculous. You can see why I had to post now, because who can work under these conditions?!

Friending My Mom on Myspace

I adore my mom, and I'm not just saying that in light of Mother's Day being yesterday. She is fun and funny and I love her. Yesterday, we were driving back from Houston and my phone was dead, so she lent me hers. I proceeded to call R., the 26-year old mentioned in my previous post. He didn't answer, and apparently called back later and got my mom's voicemail, introducing herself as C. When I called him back, he asked, "Hi, is this C.?" which was pretty funny.

R. owns a shirt that says "Your mom is in my Top 8" referring to myspace. So naturally the running mom joke lent itself to him friending my mom on myspace, only she wasn't on myspace.

Well, today my brother decided to create her an account, and she friended me. I thought it was hilarious and promptly emailed R. to tell him about it.

He friended her.

She put him in her Top 4.

And then she wrote on my wall.

... I adore these people. I was opposed to myspace before I got on it and only grudgingly use it now, but it has brought me such joy and mirth today that I can do nothing but love it for the rest of my life.

R. is friends with my mom on myspace...

No News is Good News

I have nothing sarcastic and tongue-in-cheek to say about anyone today. Sure, my work stalker called and said that if we were to run a picture of me in the magazine we would sell more copies--remember he's never seen me--but other than that, all's quiet on the dating front.

I could take this time to delve into my more committed affairs with two men whose names happen to rhyme, but that's just exhausting. Suffice it to say that they are 21 and 26 and act their respective ages, which means I like them for those respective reasons.

The 21 year old chases me around the condo, comes over with a baseball bat in the middle of the night when I hear scary noises, skinny dips and brings his puppy over to play with mine. He also texts incessantly and refuses to call, says silly things in bed, can read my emotions like a book, and says he understands my need for me time. Those last few are the ones that are simultaneously endearing and annoying as hell, depending on my mood.

The 26 year old, on the other hand, discusses religion with me, engages in friendly sarcastic banter and battles of wit, owns his own condo, comes out with me at night, meets my friends, and is taking everything really, really slow. You could say he's far more involved in my life, but he's never even been to my condo.

So you see that the two of them fill certain roles, and don't really overlap at all... which is really kind of odd. And eventually I realize that I will have to choose, since balancing my life and time with one guy is hard enough. But I'm okay with taking my time to decide, and if they aren't, well, then that will help me decide, won't it?

My Work Stalker

This is not exactly dating, but this is just how my life goes. J. says that I "have an effect on men." Awesome... I didn't ask for this kind of effect!

Naturally, I have a work stalker. I interviewed the man, over the phone, for an article I'm writing, and he calls once every couple of days--just to check in... This is fine, I'm nice, we're working "together," great.

Today he asked me, "What color are you wearing?"

"Um, red?"

"And?"

"White."

"And?"

"Black."

"And what color are your shoes?"

"Red."

"Good, they aren't tennis shoes."

It's not like he asked what I was wearing exactly, but he still asked what I was wearing, which is pretty creepy. On the one hand I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, he's an artist, he's a tad crazy, he really likes color, whatever. But on the other, that's just weird!

J. thinks he's painting me.

The GG Saga Continues

You can't really complain about a free membership, can you? And what about a free personal training session... can you complain about that? Three days after the fact when I still can't straighten my arms, I would say yes, complain about your pain, but it's a good complaint. And good pain.

However, my complaint about my personal trainer himself is neither painful nor good, it's just awkward. After we finish our (my) grueling workout, he asks what I'm doing later. I talk about playing volleyball and invite him out of friendliness--he's actually a cool guy, and sports are sports and you can always use an extra player.

He doesn't want to get his clothes dirty.

Fine, that's okay, but then he asks what I'm doing after that. I mention I have Grey's Anatomy on tape and he says that's what he was planning on doing as well! And he has it in high def! I'm welcome to come over and watch with him...

Now hold on just a minute here buddy. Besides the fact that I could be paying you in the future to watch me work out (not going to happen on this editor's salary), it's just awkward to invite a girl over to watch a girly TV show--and then to add that it's in high def, like that makes Grey's that much better?!

I say I'm watching it with my mom. (I am)

But he's not done! "Well, you have my number [from his BUSINESS CARD] if you ever want to come hang out at my apartment... no one is ever around..."

Oh, so he doesn't want anyone around to see my above-average self?!

Speaking of above average guy, he called me today and left me a message, inviting me to dinner at a specific restaurant tomorrow night. Say I were going to accept (I'm not), I thought I was supposed to have say in the date? Like maybe you make a casual suggestion about the restaurant, not like you planned it out for four days in advance?

This is why I don't answer numbers I don't know on my cell. You never know what you're gonna get.

The Saga of Gold's Gym

The Gold's Gym story is just too phenomenal to tell in one post. I will begin it today. So I have been on a bit of a gym-quest for the past month or so because I have never had to pay for a gym before and am therefore incredibly picky--if I'm going to spend money on it, it better be good!

I have also found out that while I wish it wasn't this way, I am highly motivated by attractive men working out around me. They don't have to be available, or straight, and I really don't want them to talk to me, I just need them there. I need them there so when I am on my tenth rep out of 12, I keep going, lest they think I am a weakling.

At any rate, I decide to try the Gold's Gym downtown. It's in the basement, so I walk down the stairs thinking nothing of it. Perhaps from the bottom it looked like a pair of tan, shapely legs descended from Heaven, followed by some red shorts, a t-shirt, boobs, a round face and a ponytail, but I was just there to work out. Manager winks at me and whisks me to their reception area, saying he'll send over one of the guys.

Of course, he sends over the 6'4" lanky former football player who looks like the lovechild of my two most recent ex-boyfriends. Awesome. Turns out, he happens to share a name with one of the aforementioned exes. Phenomenal. Amazingly enough, I hold my ground and do not sign up for a membership then and there (where did my strength come from?!) and after an hour of sassing, teasing, and repeated requests for a week trial membership, I am released into the gym to have my way with the ellipser and some weights.

Having told my new 6'4" friend Josh that I am a skilled basketball player and "throw a tight spiral," he suggests we get together to shoot around or toss the ball around or do god knows what else around. I ask when, he says I have his number. I tell him, "I won't call," he asks why not. I shrug and hastily make my exit. Leave them wanting more, right?

... the next day I get a phone call from the winking manager saying that I have miraculously won a free month's membership to Gold's. How freakin' convenient.

The Tale That Started It All

J. was responding to this recap of my Friday night:

I'm out at Union Park, a West Sixth bar well known for pretty people. I'm with four or five girl friends and we're all sitting in a corner booth on the patio. Us girls are coming and going, talking on our phones, getting drinks, etc. I'm texting back and forth with one of my many men (we'll call them crushes, like junior high!) while catching up with one of the girls about her current boyfriend.

Out of nowhere, meaning I certainly hadn't made eye contact with the man and invited him over, a short-ish (I'm 5'9" and wearing platform sandals, almost everyone is short-ish) man comes and sits down next to me. He leans over and says, "We've been talking about you."

I look at him sort of blankly and he says, "Yeah, you don't know who we are, but we've been talking about you."

Like a curious cat I am obligated to respond, "Oh really?"

"Yeah, you're definitely above average."

I almost cough on my drink and furrow my brows at him. Apparently not noticing my displeasure at having been linked to a C+/B- on a report card, he continues, "Are you single?"

I smile, still a little stunned at my grade, and say, not at all untruthfully, "Depends on how you define single."

He laughs and says, "So you are single."

"No," I shake my head, "I have a few boyfriends." While the definition of boyfriend as exclusive precludes having a few, I do have a few men around that wouldn't like me advertising myself as single. And single is always relative to the attractiveness of the person asking. This called for being as taken as possible, without lying. I'm an honest person, after all.

He continues to be amazed by my apparent above-average beauty and says, "Wow, your confidence just makes you that much hotter."

"I thought I was only above average?"

"No, that means hot. I just didn't want to come over and say, 'you're hot' because every guy says that to you."

Needless to say, I refused his offer for a drink and sent him on his way. However, ten minutes later my friend and I hit the bar, and there he was! He insisted on buying us drinks, and my guy friend that came over as well. That, for the record, was impressive.

Alas, he went on to take himself back down when he told me that I had a body like a coke bottle, complete with the requisite curvy motions. This was unfortunate not only because it is from a rap song, but because I don't, in fact, have a body that looks anything like a coke bottle. I am a tall, lanky athlete without a particularly defined waist, and my boobs are pretty much just average (maybe above). So I'm way more box of mac-n-cheese than coke bottle...

Pity, his friend came over and said it was time for them to leave. Nothing like being out in Austin when you're above average...

The Impetus for Spectator Sport Dating

I've known J. for about two months now--we're coworkers. We're both young, attractive, intelligent females. She is in a relationship; I am not. She has been in her relationship for something like six years; I probably haven't had a relationship in that long. Often I come in to the office and recount tales of my adventurous weekends... or weeknights... or lunchtimes...

After my latest tale, J. said, "I actually think I need to follow you around for a night to observe this phenomenon. I feel like it could be a good spectator sport."

And so after years of holding out, despite my career in journalism, my blog has arrived.