I’m alive. Don’t worry. I even posted yesterday! Just seriously tired and crazy busy. I think I have some residual stuff going on from that icky round of the flu/sinus/ear thing I had going on and am still getting over some of that…
So! Friday’s Date. Um. Yeah.
Cliffs Notes version is as follows:
Turns out he’s rather inconsiderate to my neighbors, has some weird “mechanical difficulties”, and I think he went into my email.
But I learned how to make salmon and that I can put together an apple pie in 10 min.
(Feel free to stop reading now if you don’t want some details. Provost, I’d stop reading now if I were you…Just sayin’)
Long version is as follows:
Dinner itself was fantastic. I took some suggestions regarding what I should make and made a new friend at the seafood section of my Hannaford. I even got the nice fish man to cut the skin off the salmon because frankly I think its the grossest part. He did so with a smile and I’m going to pretend its because I’m cute rather than its his job. We’re clearly BFFs now.
So NotTragicGuy shows up, pours some wine and we’re chatting. He’s watching me cook and helping where he can. I ended up making Lemon Basil Salmon, Dill Green Beans, and potatoes. It was all seriously good.
While I was cooking, he asked if he could put music on because he’s seriously into it. (“Addicted to it” were his actual words…)
Ok sure whatever. I don’t really care – put on whatever you want. Music is good to cook to…He’s looking through my music folder and basically making fun of everything I have. (He likes things like Blur, Radiohead, and some stuff I’ve never heard of.) I finally say to him, “Look. There are 9 days worth of music in there. You can find something you like.”
And he did. And played it loudly. (Ok – sometimes I like to put the music on loud, but I try and keep in mind that there are 3 other apartments in my house…)
I whip up an apple pie and put it in the oven and we eat dinner.
After dinner, we’re chatting and maybe making out a little on the futon. Its starting to get later (like 10:30-11pm) and I ask him to turn down the music a little bit because the lady upstairs complains if we’re too loud after a decent hour. (I have no idea what she considers a decent hour to be, but she’s like my mom’s age and I figured 10:30-11pm was as good a time as any to turn it down.
He tells me, “No, make her come down and complain.” So I basically told him, “No, that isn’t ok – to please turn it down.” (Seriously, its my place, I like where I live and my land lord, I don’t want to start anything bad, so fuck you, turn it down if I ask you to!)
He took the look on my face seriously and turned it down.
So we’re back on the futon, making out and things are getting a little hotter. Naughty bits are being groped, there’s defiantly some excitement going on so I tell him if we’re going to have sex, he’s going to wear a condom. He tells me he “doesn’t like to, but he will.”
Um yeah butt head – you will. Duh.
Carrying on, things are getting more interesting and its game time… Well, it’s ok – but how do I put this gently? Um, he won’t be invited to participate at the AVN Convention next year…unless it’s for a fetish video. (If you get what I’m saying…)
I mean it was doable (hehe) but then the weird “mechanical difficulties” happens…It turns out that the more worked up he gets, the less up he is.
Sigh. Go ahead. Laugh. I wanted to…but I didn’t.
(No joke. Does this even make sense? Am I in backwards land? Is sex even possible?)
He swears he’s really good at certain favors of the oral variety (that I’m not even really that into) and really really wants to try it!
(Blech. Yeah, I’ve heard that before.)
After he’s quite pushy about it, I finally say ok and he tries. He’s not good at it. At all. Gee, go figure.
So we’re chilling, hanging out chatting a little bit and all the sudden he tells me that hes really tired, asks if he can crash on the futon and goes to bed. I picked up my laptop and went to bed myself.
I’m watching Bones and getting cozy in my super awesome bed when I realize that the little envelope in the bottom corner of my screen which indicates when I have email is gone. I’m almost positive it was there earlier in the evening…I’m still logged in…but the icon is gone.
That only happens when someone clicks on it.
Damn it. He went in my email. (I’m pretty sure at least.)
It’s not that I have anything secretive in that email account. Its actually mostly junk mail. But. He. Went. In. My. Email.
That’s a big NoNo.
This guy had some potential. Not so much anymore after the inconsideration, the mechanical difficulties, and the possibility that he went into my email. I haven’t heard from him since Saturday morning when he left and go ahead and call me shaloow don’t know that I care to…
He’s smart, funny, fun and it was nice to be wanted. But really? My friends are smart, funny, fun, and I’ve been around the block enough to know that someone else will want me.
But in the tradition of the almost eternal optimist that lives inside my head there were some good things to come out of Friday night:
~I can easily make salmon and I’m a fantastic cook
~I can make a pie in 10 minutes
~I reconfirmed that sex is important to me (in case there were any doubts)
~I’m reminded that it’s ok to sleep alone…and sometimes, it’s better that way.
Life is so crazy busy that I’m reduced to extensive To-Do lists. You can see mine here. No, it’s not complete – by far.