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...

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.

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...

Romance

There's this guy on lavalife. He's messaged me twice. Email #1: he wanted to know when we could meet. I told him I'd rather sent a few more notes back and forth first, and decide IF we should meet. Email #2: he wants to know what kind of kissing I like, whether or not I like massages, and what constituties a romantic evening.

This is right up there with strangers calling me sexy.

A stranger would probably go for flowers and a nice dinner. That stranger would probably turn me right off. Roses remind me of an ex who used to buy them for me when he had cheated on me (again) or broken something I cherished. I hate roses. Especially red ones.

Romance is so dependent on mood, and on the person you're with. One of the most memorable 'romantic' evenings I can think of with Mr Wonderful was a game of Trivial Pursuit. With three of my cousins, an aunite, and my Grandma, but Mr Wonderful kept dropping hints and allusions to private jokes between him and I, and, at the same time, entertained a bunch of people I loved dearly. He didn't especially want to be there that day, but came because of me. That's romantic.

Mr UK keeps emailing me links to web design/building tutorials, and to shareware and open source programs that he thinks I would be interested in. Often, attached to sweet notes about how well I am doing with my learning html.

One guy took me for lunch at my favorite restaraunt, then took me to the SPCA and talked me into buying a dog. He didn't last, but I still think of him all the time - I do love the dog to bits.

These things all stuck out in my mind as romantic. Mr UK would never take me dog shopping, and it probably wouldn't feel romantic if he did. But, he does know me well enough to know that free software is a great gift. It's the caring and acknowledgement in the gesture that makes it romantic to me. I'm not a Hallmark kinda gal, and romance has to be personal...

Oh, yeah, and I don't imagine there will ever BE a first date with Mr Romantic on lavalife...