Roles

I think I have mentioned before that I am not a girly girl. I am an indifferent housekeeper, and I am only a good cook because I like eating. I tried sewing, once, when I was fourteen. After stitching my hand to the shirt I was trying to make, I gave up and took woodworking in school.

I don't think I've ever really even had a girly job. I was a waitress, once, for about a week. A customer decided to grab my ass. That customer wore his very hot coffee home. I got fired, but it was worth it.

My current job includes un-girly aspects such as playing with guns and yelling at people. I don't really like it, but it pays better than waitressing.

My car needed an oil change last week. I had the filter and a case of oil sitting in the trunk, but I was being lazy about it, mostly because it is starting to get cold out, and the weather had been windy and rainy. It got to be pretty critical, though, as I was well over the recommended 5,000 kilometers, and T and I were planning a trip home, which adds another 1,000.

I spoke to a girlfriend at work and arranged to use her garage on Thursday. I mentioned it to T when I got home from work. T cocked his head.

"Shouldn't I be doing that?"

"Do you know how?" I replied

I guess that wasn't the most political thing to say, but T just isn't that type. I'm sure he could do mechanics, but he doesn't seem to want to. It turned out that he does know how to change oil, though he doesn't enjoy it. I told him it was fine, I was happy to do it myself.

"But what will your friends think of me?"

"I'm sure they will think you are a progressive, open-minded gentleman."

Supper was waiting for me when I got home.

Apologies

I got home from work yesterday, excited to have discovered there is a craft supply store in the next town over. I had every intention of going, but wanted to wait for T to get home because...well, just because.

He often doesn't get home until 5:30, but I called the store, and they close at 5:30. I tried to call T, but his phone was off.

I thought about it, and realised we'd had a conversation a couple of weeks back about nights off. I volunteer on Tuesday nights, so he gets an evening to himself every week. I (rather bluntly) suggested he find something to do one night a week, or even every other week, so I could have an evening alone, too. We agreed that Thursday would be a good day for that. Yesterday was Thursday.

So, I packed the dog in the car and drove to the craft store. I spent an hour chatting with the lady and picking out pretty scrapbooking stamps and papers. Spent a wad of cash. Then I stopped at the bank. And ran to the grocery store.

With all my running around done, I came home, in no particular hurry.

I could smell the barbecue when I pulled in the driveway.

The first thing out of T's mouth when I walked in the door was "Sorry!"

"Sorry for what?"

"For being late. You aren't mad? I thought maybe you were mad. My phone died, and I couldn't call."

"Me? Mad? Hell, no...I was shopping"

"Oh. Whew. Thanks for being sane..."

And, with this, I got a hug and a great big kiss. I do not know what sorts of women he has been hanging out with, if he considers me exceptionally stable and sane. I told him I thought he was out playing Scrabble with his friend J, as per our conversation a couple weeks back. He said "No, if I do that, I will call for sure."

Later in the evening, I pointed out that the best thing about our relationship (to me) is that it's just like being single, but less lonely. He places no demands or ultimatums on me. I can do what I want, spend my time and money however I like, and hang out with anyone I choose. Mr Wonderful (an ex) stayed here on the weekend with his new girlfriend. T had no issues with this, and, afterward, decided he quite liked both of them. What a sweetheart. He really does fit into my life...

Sex and other random things

I have been saying for awhile now (though never in earshot of another boy) that the sex with M was probably the best I was ever going to get. I am thinking of revising that statement. Technically, sure. He had a knack for doing just the right thing for the moment. But, you know, he didn't want to be with me, didn't want any future. Sure, we cared about each other, but it was in a rather...restrained way.

T isn't the most experienced guy. He says he's not fussed about it, as long as it doesn't bother me. Nah. Less bad training to try to undo.

T wants to be with me. T wants a future. T is a quick learner.

Mmmm...yeah...



Last night, I was out at a meeting until past my usual bedtime. T was sleeping when I got home, and I crawled into bed, but couldn't get to sleep myself. I got up again, not wanting to wake him with my tossing and turning. I kept having all these thoughts about T, the pair of us, and life in general. So I wrote him a note, and leaned it up against the coffee pot where I knew he would find it in the morning. I was trying not to get too sappy - T is still nervous about 'mushy stuff', but I don't know how well I succeeded. He seemed happy enough - he woke me with a big kiss and a 'thank you for the note'. I really like it when he smiles at me like that...

Moved In

Well, T. is more or less all moved in.

Friday and Saturday were the big days - a truckload from his place, then a trip to his parents' on Saturday to collect a couch they had been storing for him.

T's parents scare me. They are very religious, and I am very...not. T decided a long time ago that Christianity didn't do it for him, though both his brothers are still practicing. I don't have a problem with religion, but I just have no exposure, and am not interested in being converted. It is difficult to remember that T's parents honestly believe T's immortal soul is in major and immediate danger, though it does occasionally explain their reactions to things.

Saturday, I was leery of going with T to get the couch. However, his parents invited us (both of us!) for dinner, so I couldn't really back out.

Actually, the dinner went quite well. T's dad was as friendly and chatty as last time, and his mom was much more relaxed, for some reason. T took his dad out back to move the couch, leaving me with his mom, and we chatted about crafts for half an hour. The parents needed their truck back right away, so they followed us out to my house and wrestled the couch downstairs.

When they went to leave, T's mom gave him a hug...then gave me one, too. I guess it will be okay.



In other news, domestic bliss has been the order of the week. I mentioned to T how impressed I was that I really only had to tell him once about doing his 50%. I've had to remind him a couple times about little things that drive me crazy, but he really is getting it right most of the time. "Well, I told you to give me a little time to change," he said indignantly. I reminded him that I am not good at taking people's word for things. I believe in action. Now, I've seen action, and I must say things are looking a lot more hopeful. T is suddenly domestic, vaccuuming and doing dishes and calling on his way home from work to see if he should stop at the store to pick anything up. It's pretty sweet, actually.

I think he's a keeper.

Settling In.

Well, the countdown is on until T officially moves in...at the end of the month...in 4 days. Right at the moment, all it will change is the amount of furniture in the house. He hasn't slept at his own home in weeks.

Since I snapped at him about housework, we had a little discussion about what, exactly, constituted 50%. Little things, like doing the dishes includes drying them and putting them away. Like I don't want all the mental responsibility for tracking which chores need to get done, or having to ask him to do them.

I gotta hand it to him, the boy learns fast.

This weekend, we went for a nice drive, then Sunday was cleaning day. We both just got at it. Monday, I had a girlfriend over for supper. I cooked, we ate, then I took my girlfriend out to show her the backyard. By the time we got back inside, the dishes were done. I coulda kissed him. In fact, I did.

Yesterday, we were both exhausted from work. We dug some leftovers out for supper, then sat in side-by-side comfy chairs, reading. He was dozing off, and it was only 6:30, so I offered to make him a coffee. As I went to stir in the sugar, T came up behind me and gave me a big hug.

"Aah, domestic bliss," he said.

Indeed.

Good morning.

T. and I went out for drinks and a few games of pool last night. This is becoming a cherished tradition, in my mind...it is a fun evening, every time.

We came home early, though, as T had to work this morning. Not THAT early, mind you, but earlier than usual.

T got up before the alarm went off. I heard him turn it off, then dozed off again. Next thing I know, he's leaning over the bed, giving me a kiss goodbye.

"Don't worry about the dog," he said, "I already took her out to pee. Sleep in if you want."

I did.

When I did finally crawl out of bed, the stuff for coffee was all set out on the counter, and he had taken the garbage out. He's not home yet, but when he arrives, he'll be getting a great big kiss...

Parents

T has only ever introduced one girlfriend to his parents. It's a big, important step for him, and one that makes him very, very nervous. I told him quite awhile ago that I wasn't fussed about it one way or the other, that it could happen in its own time.

Then we decided to shack up.

T's parents are religious. Not just 'go to church once in awhile' religious, either. Really religious.

I told T that I'd rather meet his parents before I officially became "Devil Woman" by living in sin with their son.

Last night, I met the parents.



T's dad, G, shook my hand in both of his. T's mom looked like she was going to hug me, though I fended that one off. Apparently T having a real, actual girlfriend is a big deal. I was a little nervous, but managed to hold up my end of the conversation, and dinner was very tasty, which gave me something to focus on. I was very careful not to swear or take the Lord's name in vain. I didn't dig in to the food until after the prayer had been said. I managed not to embarass T too badly.

Actually, afterward, T said he thought they really liked me.

"Just wait till they meet my mom," I grumbled.


Sitting at home, later, deconstructing the evening, I mentioned to T that I am concerned about how his parents will react to the news that we are shacking up.

"They'll just have to get over it," T replied, "since you're going to be part of the family."

**melt**

Spill

Well, a whole evening without T. This may actually kinda suck.

He is at his own home, as his roomie's daughter is having a birthday party. Apparently she's pretty attached to him. It's interesting that he feels a certain sense of responsibility toward her. I like that. It's a good sign.

Funniest thing, one minute I worry that he might be getting into my head, next thing, I'm agreeing to shack up. I think perhaps he put something in my coffee that morning. The worst bit is that I'm not even having second thoughts - I am excited to start moving the furniture around.

Since our little tiff, we have had conversations about a few things. It went much better, though I probably still lack tact. He is going to try to learn not to get defensive when I have 'that tone', which sets him off, but may or may not actually mean I am annoyed.

I noticed that in the last couple of days, he has started picking up his empty beer bottles and putting them in the recycle bin, set out a new bar of soap in the bathroom when the old one finally dissolved, and laid a (machine washable) blanket down on the couch before sitting down in his filthy work clothes. There's hope, at least.

We have started establishing little routines. We go for long drives and longer walks on Saturdays (if he's not working) or Sundays. Somewhere away from town, places with trees and water. We wander riverbanks looking for pretty stones. He waits patiently while I take pictures, and only rolls his eyes about half the times I point the camera at him. Recently, we have started going to the pub near my house and playing pool. When I cook, he washes the dishes.

He is starting to fit more comfortably.

The other morning, we were standing in the kitchen, and he came up behind me and gave me a hug. I turned to face him. He always looks away when our eyes meet when we're doing that. He says it makes him feel 'mushy'. This time, he looked down at me and told me he was afraid I might be 'the one'. **melt**

This might just work out okay.

Absence...

...really does make the heart grow fonder.

I was gone on a conference for work last week, and, whaddya know, but I missed T. Quite a bit, actually. And he missed me, too. After one particularly draining day, all I really wanted was to curl up in his arms. Instead, I phoned, and we agreed to do that when I got home. And we did.

Sunday morning was a lay-in-bed kinda morning, something we've never really done before. We snuggled on the bed, just chatting about 'stuff'. Stuff like hopes and fears and goals, the deep things that don't really just come out in conversation. As we were chatting, my head on his chest, I realised I haven't felt that close to someone in a long, long time.

Then he brought up moving in together.

That one was slightly shocking. Shocking-good, mind you, but it came as something of a suprise to me that he would want to step things up, somehow. I've spent too many years around commitment-phobic guys, I suppose. I told him I needed a little more time, but by the end of the conversation, we had pretty much agreed on August.

Oh, my.

Communication

Well, after a couple days' break, we went out last night. Not really a typical date - clothes shopping and dinner - but fun. We chatted about random stuff. Including the fact that he had screwed up his courage and asked his boss for a raise, and that he had a plan for dealing with the psycho roomie.

Oh, and that I hate it when he leaves his dirty work clothes on the bathroom floor, and don't appreciate picking up after him.

Then we came home and had great sex.

Funny how communication seems to facilitate these things.


I am really not quite sure what to do about this guy. I don't know if I am overly prepared to write him off, if this is growing pain that is normal in a new relationship, or if there really are legitimate concerns. I have no concept of what a healthy new relationship really feels like. It's been too long, and I think I am getting cagey about having someone in my life and inside my head. Maybe I am less tolerant of quirks, having been more-or-less happily on my own for several years. I am afraid of losing my sense of independence, the feeling that if he disappears, things will keep chugging merrily along, with a slightly adjusted weekend routine, which is how out-of-town dating seems to go for me.

When Mr. Wonderful and I broke up, it took years for me to feel like I was really going to be okay on my own. I don't think I have given anyone a fighting chance since then.

Whether T is 'the one' or really only the fourteenth is pretty immaterial. It boils down to what I can cope with, how vulnerable I am willing or able to be. I know it can't go anywhere if I don't allow it, but I gotta admit, it sure ain't easy...

Forgetting

They say that if women could accurately remember the pain of childbirth, no-one would ever have a second child. I have no experience with that sort of thing, but I am thinking that if I ever remembered the pain of dating, I would never have another boyfriend.

It's not even pain, so much as pain-in-the-ass. With M., it was that he never put the toilet seat down. With Mr Wonderful, it was that he was forever dragging home stray cats that our landlady didn't allow, and we couldn't afford the vet bills on anyway. Little things. But annoying.

Like when I see the results of T drying his not-quite-clean hands on my good hand towels.

Or when he washes the dishes, but doesn't dry them or wipe the counter.

And then there's the interpersonal crap. The differing beliefs or expectations or communication styles. The misunderstandings.

Last night, we were laying in bed. I have some health problems that were bothering me. He asked if I was in pain, and I said 'yes'. He started tossing out 'solutions' that 'we' were going to use to make me 'better'. I stated that they would not work. I neglected to mention that I knew this for fact because I had tried them. He told me I was defeatist.

I told him to never, ever, make blanket statements on topics he knows nothing about.

I managed to haul my 'defeatist' ass through a dozen countries in as many months, at age 29, solo, after everyone told me I was crazy to go to Africa and the Middle East alone. I have survived, and left, abusive relationships. I work in a male-dominated, demanding job in a place where women are expected to be barefoot and pregnant. I managed to complete one entire degree. Defeatist. Hrumph. T clearly has a lot to learn about me. I can't currently think of a more offensive thing someone could say to me...

That one little comment still has my blood pressure up. And I'm still trying to figure out which bit of Sunday's conversation lacked tact...

Goodbyes

I took down my profiles on PoF and Lava awhile ago, and have been cheerfully broadcasting that I have a real actual boyfriend to pretty much everyone. There were some loose ends left to tie up, though.

I finally got ahold of Mr UK this morning. It made me late for work, but was a necessary conversation. He was talking about booking tickets to meet in Chicago...which was the plan a couple months ago, but isn't quite right, anymore, with T in the picture.

Mr UK took it well. Better than I expected, actually. Said he was happy for me. Wanted to know about T. Congratulated me. Asked if he'd still see me in July when he comes to town. I said "of course, but T may want to join us". Mr UK said he understood.

He commented that if we had lived in the same region, or even the same country, we'd probably be dating, but sounded pretty philosophical about it.

When we said goodbye, he said he loved me.

I told him I loved him, too.

And, you know, in its own way, it's true. Not in the "let's get married" sense, but Mr UK has been in my life for a long, long time, and there is definitely a special relationship there. I am relieved that he can accept the situation, and grateful that our friendship will continue, albeit on a different level.

It was a little bittersweet, though.

Girly

I am not a girly girl.

As a teenager, I routinely got mistaken for a boy. Actually, that happened well into my twenties. I grew my hair and nails long so people would have visual cues, then I got fat and grew breasts, rendering all that a moot point anyways. I wear jeans and tank tops. I shop for shirts and shoes in the men's section out of necessity - I am an attractive girl, but not a little girl, and size 11 ladies' shoes are hard to come by. I do not spend huge amounts on clothing. I could care less about fashion. Motor oil does not wash out of $150 jeans any better than $40 ones. Being feminine just isn't practical.

T appears to be turning me into a girl. A girly girl.

I own makeup, for the three or four occasions a year I have to wear it. For some reason, I had the impulse to wear some a couple of nights ago. T had never seen me wearing makeup before. T was extremely vocal about how impressed he was. He said he does not generally like girls wearing makeup, and prefers the natural look (thankfully), but thought I looked phenomenal (huh?).

Likewise, I have a pair of super-comfy capri pants. I wear them when I am doing housework. T thought they were fantastic. Said so several times. Grabbed me and pulled me down on top of him on the couch to demonstrate how great he thought they looked. When we went out for dinner later that evening, I wore them out, with a pair of high-heeled sandals. T couldn't stop looking at my ass, and said so.

I went shopping yesterday. Now, shopping is not unheard of in my world; I am always happy to go to Home Hardware and pick up a few new tools. However, I went shopping for makeup and clothing. Pretty stuff. Capris. High heels. Mascara and lip gloss.

My fashionista sister is going to love this guy. Everyone else is going to wonder what the hell he's done to me. Including, possibly, me.

The things we do for love...

Another week.

Well, it has been another week of T, and although I have to admit he slides admirably easily into my life and routines, I am not sure where he fits in my head.

T. has never heard of half the music I listen to. He is forever saying "Who is this? I think I like them". Another common one is "What does that word mean? How do you spell it? I think it might be a [Scrabble] bingo". He certainly appreciates my intelligence. He is very respectful of my privacy and my space. But he is in it.

I spent seven years building up my home, full of MY things, done up the way I like it, and only allowing a very few good friends in. Apparently I have done the same with my head. Every now and then, I realise...omg, this guy is creeping in. My instinct is immediately to push him away, keep him at arm's distance. I love and hate that I can just call him anytime I want a hug and he'll be here in half an hour. Mind you, he is pretty much always here anyway, doing dishes after dinner or bringing me coffee in the morning. Good things that are a little disturbing because of their intimacy.

I went for drinks with Moonbeam last night, specifically to tell him about T, just in case. Moonbeam swears he just wants a friendship, which is perfect. He felt he should enlighten me about the inside of the male mind, however, and warned me that the L-word will likely get tossed into play in about 6 weeks. Given the situation, I wonder if it will take T that long, and hope he can/will hold back on that one. T is already routinely telling me how lucky and thankful he feels for having met me. He asks if I am always this nice, tells me I am beautiful. He is rather demonstrative, verbally and physically, which again is something of a mixed blessing. I do enjoy it, but...But.

I declared last night a night off again. I am thinking of doing the same tonight. T has spent the last several years alone, but I don't believe it was by choice. I guess I haven't been especially alone, but I have carefully arranged my life so that no-one, especially no man, can interfere with my freedom and independence and comfort. It is disturbing to realise I have cooked proper dinners every night for close to two weeks. I usually eat leftovers or a bowl of oatmeal.

Poor T may be getting a neurotic basketcase that he hadn't bargained on...but I am still doing my best not to shoot myself in the foot...

Going Slow...

...is not what we are doing. T came over last Thursday, and did not go home until THIS Wednesday. Last night was a 'night off', which I apparently needed most desperately, as I was starting to feel out-of-sorts about having my routines disrupted.

I poured two cups of coffee this morning before I woke up enough to realise he wasn't here anyway.

T picked up the dishes after supper the other night. He made coffee on the mornings he was first out of bed. He calls if he will be late coming home from work. He'll eat whatever I can dream up to cook, and thank me for it after. He is still exciting and fun, but at the same time, comfortable like an old sweater. There is nothing we won't talk about.

This is scary. It's been about seven years since I have dated anyone who lived in my own area code. It's less pressure when they can only change your routine on the weekends. I've always said that they don't fuck up my life, that way. Well, that, and I date emotionally distant guys, as a rule, so they really don't interfere at all.

T is interested in me. He is available, physically and emotionally. I look forward to spending time with him. He scares the hell out of me.

I am trying not to shoot myself in the foot by finding reasons to run away or pick a fight. I told him that I have a few issues that way.

T fits into my life.

He'll be here again tonight.

I'm looking forward to it...

***Grin***

What a weekend.

T is amazing.

He came over Friday night with a backpack and a scrabble board, plus an ear-to-ear grin. We went for dinner, cooked dinner, walked the dog, watched movies, did dishes, and cuddled lots. He fits my life. He has a beautiful smile. And brains to spare.

Interestingly, we did not have sex. He said later that he had thought about bringing condoms, but thought I was something special, and did not want to rush things. Funny...I had thought about buying condoms, but did not want to rush with him. Strange...

My pets love him. My cat would rather curl up in his lap. My dog won't leave him alone. It's cute. He likes pets.

He was so shy and bashful on Thursday, but that faded fast. Some of it is his own courage...he was bashful and blushing madly Sunday morning when he (toe-in-dirt shyly) invited me to join him in the shower. It's a little contagious - I was blushing madly when I (toe-in-dirt shyly) accepted. My hot water tank must be broken...seemed like the hot water ran out right away...

Not A School Night

I had a shit day at work. Being exhausted didn't help one bit. By quitting time, all I wanted was a hug. Rather than sit home and sulk, I called T. Invited him over. For the weekend. He thought I was joking.

**grin**

He should be here in about an hour...

And I'm not sure who's driving, and I don't really care.

Sleepover

I should have been sleeping three hours ago. He braved horrible highways to come for dinner and board games. He whooped me at Scrabble, then I beat him at crib. We had a couple of drinks and chatted. The weather deteriorated, getting colder, icier, and snowier. He looked dubiously out the window at the near-blizzard. I invited him to stay the night. He asked me if I was really okay with that. Five times.

He is so shy it hurts, almost. He gets nervous around people he doesn't know well, and more so with girls. I could almost see him making circles on the ground with his toe. We chat, but he doesn't make eye contact, much. He petted the cat so gently with those huge hands. I checked him out, sidelong, when he wasn't looking.

I half-teasing suggested we share the bed for warmth in this nasty weather. I could almost hear him blush. He is out on the fold-out right now. We were both doing toe-circles saying goodnight, akward. Eventually he asked if he could have one thing before bed: a hug.

And a very brief, chaste one, at that.

********************
Next morning edit:

Sometime just after I finished typing, T came tiptoeing up the hallway to my bedroom. "hey," he said, "can I take you up on your offer? It's kinda lonely out there..."

Based on the last time I actually got up and looked at the clock, the absolute most sleep I could have gotten was approximately four hours. I did not get four hours sleep, though.

It was like a kids sleepover...chatting and giggling, in our pajamas. He is less shy, and more chatty, in the dark. We didn't even kiss, though I have to admit his arms around me sure felt...right...

I told him he wasn't allowed to come over on school nights anymore, though...

Not Driving

I went for drinks with Moonbeam, the guy from work, a couple nights ago. I still have no idea what he's angling for. I have to admit, we have great conversations, but I don't think he would be a good long-term match. I really don't want to lead him on, but I'm not sure how to bring it up in conversation. Dammit.

Scrabble guy, T., called last night. We have a date for tomorrow at my place. Now, I wouldn't normally invite an internet guy to my home after only meeting them once, but I am also a good judge of character, and I'm certian T is not stalker material. He is far too...well, it's hard to pin down, but he hits me as a good guy. He asked if it was okay that he called. He hasn't been pushy in any way, shape, or form. He is very...respectful.

It was an interesting conversation. We do really have a lot in common. I have to learn not to bombard him with questions, but, dammit, I'm curious.

There are a couple red flags, though. He last lived with his parents a few months ago. He has started three different degrees, without finishing any of them. On the other hand, he appears to be able to say 'no', and has actually held the same job for a couple of years.

This not driving thing is really causing me headaches. I have no idea if T is even looking for anything more than friendship, and if he's not, then I'd rather know before I get too interested. Likewise, with Moonbeam, I'd rather have things on the table. However, asking these sorts of questions seems to be the start of me taking over, so to speak. Dammit, I'm just not subtle enough for this...

Scrabble

So, there's this PoF goy. Let's call him T. If there's been a PoF T before, please disregard. This one is totally new, but I've been on so many first dates that I just can't remember, but there hasn't been a second date with a single one...

This one is going to get a second date.

T is tall, well over 6 feet, and pleasant-looking. Broad shoulders, green eyes, full lips. He is soft-spoken, in a slightly fumbling, shy way. He drinks his coffee with lots of sugar. He plays Scrabble competitively. He has freckles on his forearms, and huge hands.

We've been chatting online for over a month, with conversational topics covering religion, gender roles, travel, and books. He says he is not a 'manly man', and just got his first 'guy job' this year. He is slightly nerdy, and loves to read. He got teased a lot in high school. He seems impressed, but not threatened, by my non-traditional line of work, and the fact that I know a bit about cars. He has complimented me a few times, none of which had anything to do with my looks.

We finally met for coffee yesterday afternoon. I can't even remember what we talked about, but three hours went by without any uncomfortable pauses.

There is definitely chemistry. I had forgotten about chemistry.

We agreed to meet online later in the evening, and play Scrabble. He won three games out of four, and gave me a bunch of tips about how to play better. By the end of the night, I was certainly playing better. He was using words I had never heard of. I had to go get my dictionary and look a bunch of them up, just to find out what they meant. That is so hot. Finally, a guy around here who has a brain and isn't afraid to use it.

It is going to be hard to not 'drive the car', and do it too fast. My urge is to go out on a few more dates, see if the chemistry lasts, then go drag him off and do something about it. Actually, my urge is to see what he's doing later today, and see if he'd be interested in a strip-Scrabble marathon, but I know that isn't really appropriate, and will attempt to restrain myself...