all the fun of the fair...

...dating LiterateLawyerGuy.

I've mentioned that LiterateLawyerGuy is different that most of the men I've dated in the past, with his boldness, his humor, his grand gestures, his mixture of scholar and athlete (he's a rugby player), the directions that his high sex drive takes him and his size. Now I'm discovering that I have to adjust to other aspects of his life that I knew about, but have never had to deal with in a man I dated.

He may have an apartment in Santa Monica, but his primary residence is San Diego. It's not all that far, but it's not all that close either. In the past, if I've wanted to see a guy or he wanted to see me, all we had to do was say so and, usually within half an hour we were together. It was great. It was convenient. It was the way I've always thought things should be.

However, with LiterateLawyerGuy so far away, we have to make do with phone calls and IM messages and, because we're both so busy and our schedules have been kind of whacked, even those have been fewer and briefer than either of us has liked. Even when we made plans to get together yesterday before the party (I'll write more about that tomorrow), those plans were scrapped because of a work emergency and an emergency involving his ex-wife, which meant he had to watch his son as soon as he arrived in L.A. Which wasn't going to be for several hours because he still had to drive up from San Diego. The emergency was nothing medical or dire, thank heaven, but being a good daddy had to come first.

Which brings me to the second aspect I'm finding I have to adjust to: dating a single father. I have many nieces and nephews. I have friends with children. I totally understand his need to be there for his son. I love how his face lights up when his talks about him, how LLGSon is the apple of his eye. And I honestly believe that his son should come before a woman that he's just started dating. Then again, it would be easier to say that if that woman wasn't me.

Saturday night he came to the party after his ex picked up his son, looking dashing in black. We hung out at the party for a number of hours, until such a time as neither one of us could stand not ripping off each other's clothes any more. Then we stopped off at an all night diner near my place since we were both starving. Then back to my place, where we proceeded to do what we'd been wanting to do all night. This morning we watched the news about Saddam Hussein, then he told me that, instead of the long luxurious afternoon of being together that we had planned, he had to go and pick up his son. He was sorry and he felt bad for disappointing me, but he had to go and be a daddy.

He asked how I felt about that, about dating a single father who may not always be available. I admitted that I was disappointed. I didn't hide that at all. But I told him that I also understood. Because I did. And I still do completely understand. But, though I didn’t tell him this part, it was one of those times I almost wished I knew how to be a selfish bitch who insisted on getting her own way at all times. Because, no matter how much I understood, that's what I wanted.

Still, I know that if I’m selfish enough to refuse to date single fathers, that there’s a whole segment of men that I’m just cutting out, men who could be wonderful and nurturing. I think about how I’d like to have children of my own some day. What better way to find out whether a man would be a good father to them than to see how they are with the children they already have?

I’m not saying that that’s the direction things are going to take with LiterateLawyerGuy. It’s all way too soon to know, to seriously think about anything like that. But it is a consideration, nonetheless.

And, if I’d like to continue dating him, which I do, it’s something I have to deal with. Just as I have to deal with his physical distance. And the fact that several weeks may pass before I see him again. Granted, neither one of us wants that, but it’s something that may still happen. We’ll just have to work harder at keeping in touch via phone calls and IM messages.

I have the feeling that my life is about to get a whole lot more interesting with LiterateLawyerGuy in it. There ain’t nothing wrong with that.

And I think it just may be worth a few inconveniences.

...and some punctuation:

Colin Firth - yummy.

Tonight was the Los Angeles premiere of Girl with the Pearl Earring. I've mentioned before that the company where I work was involved in the making of the movie. And through some happy, happy fluke, invites to the L.A. premiere actually filtered down to my department. We are almost never invited to these events. So when presented a reception after the movie, with the possibility of being in the same room with Colin Firth afterwards? You can bet I jumped on that bandwagon.

I was able to get a ride there and home, so that was of the good. No one I invited was able to make it, unfortunately. LiterateLawyerGuy has to stay in San Diego for the rest of the week, ModelGirl had business she had to take care of, CuteNerdBoy had 1) already seen the movie with me and 2) was coming down with a cold (we had seen each other at the BookCrossing meeting the night before anyway, along with his brother) and WestHollywoodBoy tried to make it but ended up having to work late.

Still, it was all too much fun. I first spied Colin Firth when I went back outside to leave my extra ticket at Will Call, on the off-chance WestHollywoodBoy could make it. Mr. Firth was standing on the red carpet, posing for photos and fielding press questions when I walked behind him. Of course I was not on the red carpet and had several canopy posts and a few people between us. But I was in his presence, nonetheless.

Later, as I was waiting for both WestHollywoodBoy and FFDWG(FKaSarah) to arrive - I was holding seats for both of them - Mr. Firth entered the theater. He wasn't close at all, but he was definitely there, looking very handsome.

More festivities resulted, the movie was watched (very good, I've liked it both times I've seen it and the score is simply wonderful), then FFDWG(FKaSarah) and I left the theater. Right in front of us in the upper lobby - none other than Colin Firth. People were milling about him, shaking his hand and smiling and asking him questions. He appeared to be very gracious, but I don't like to be just one of a crowd usually, so FFDWG(FKaSarah) and I just left him alone. Though I did dart a couple of looks his way on my journey downstairs.

Fairly soon FFDWG(FKaSarah) and I decided to leave the reception, as it was too crowded and the food was not vegetarian friendly. I spied Mr. Firth one last time, on the other side of the downstairs lobby, briefly glanced longingly at him like practically every other woman in the room, then made my way out.

So, in conclusion, Colin Firth in person - very yummy indeed.

My overwhelming need to answer online quizzes rears its ugly head. So to speak:


(Warning: Clicking on the quiz link may offend sensitive types. Which begs the question, why the hell are you reading my 'blog?)

I have no comments on the results. None whatsoever. A-hem.

Thanks again, Beth and Chuck. I think.

Because I'm just a tiny bit crazy about her (and I'm reading her book for the third time - I got it back from CuteNerdBoy on Saturday, he liked it too), I have to just say, "WooHoo, Pamie!".

That is just so beyond fabulous! *little jig of joy*

Vegas Weekend, Part Deux? Looks like the basics were already covered in Part 1, but, of course, there is so much more to relate. Not details, because this girl doesn't kiss and tell. Well, not too much, except to say that LiterateLawyerGuy hugs well, kisses well, and, um, does other things very well. While we showed some restraint, we did, shall we say, enjoy ourselves. Several times.

I am, of course, referring to my feelings. Because I? Am FeelingGirl. And those feelings that I tend to not express verbally, due to a certain amount of shyness that overcomes me when face to face with people - even people with whom I’ve been intimate, either physically or emotionally - I seem to have no problem writing about them, even in a public forum.

It really was a wonderful weekend. Not just because I was flown to Vegas for a first date and treated like a princess, though that certainly figures into it. Although I'm usually pretty confident about myself and my worthiness as a potential girlfriend, I've never thought I was the type of woman that men fly to new and fun places on a whim, just because they wanted to spend time with me. I'm just lil' ol' me - fun, sexy and intelligent, to be sure, but a simple girl with simple wants and needs.

So to be treated as if glamour ought to be a natural part of my life, to be on a first date in another state just because, why not? It's all very new to me. It's exciting. And maybe a little on the scary side. Because while I've had men talk big about all the things they want to do for me, very few have ever come through on those talks.

Until LiterateLawyerGuy.

But it's not just because of the flying to Vegas. While I was with him he was with me. He wanted to hear what I had to say. He wanted to know everything about me. He was bold about a lot of things, but he knew when to pull back, when not to press me. He respects me. And he made sure that I knew it wasn't just my body that he found attractive, it was my intelligence and humor. And while I've certainly attracted men before with all three of those attributes, it's been a long time since anyone has truly acted on that attraction. It's a nice feeling. And he definitely has geek cred - he loves Star Wars, likes Star Trek, used to know some programming languages many, many moons ago and has played role-playing games in the past. Including Dungeons and Dragons. (But shhh - don't tell him I told you.) I've always had a thing for geeks.

So it's been over a week since I've seen him. We've spoken on the phone a few times, but never as long as we've wanted. The same with IMing. Our schedules have been crazy. And I find I've been missing him. I've been missing his devilish smile, his laughter, his voice, his humor, his boldness, his warmth and, oddly enough, his constant quoting of books and plays and poetry. It was starting to get on my nerves a little, because while I like to quote literature, I rarely do so at length. But I even miss that from him. We've already seen each other's cranky sides (him with a room reservation mix-up and me with the obnoxious kids at the movie) and it's okay.

And I miss the way he held me, the way he touched me in Vegas, in our little weekend hideaway at the Aladdin.

He's told me that he misses me, too, and has been thinking about me. A lot.

He's just a very new, very lovely experience for me in so many ways. He's bolder than most of the men I've dated before. He's physically different, in that, though he's 5'10" (a good height for me - the same as the Ex and CuteNerdBoy), he's a big guy. I mean, I've been with big guys before, but there was always a previous emotional attachment that started before they gained weight or they were 6'4" and built like a linebacker. I tend to be attracted to tall, lanky guys who either have a somewhat nerdy, goofy or artistic look to them (on occasion, all three). And though my past boyfriends have run the gamut from 4'10" and in a wheelchair to the previously mentioned 6'4" linebacker type, and I've loved them all, that tall, dark-haired lanky, wire-rimmed glasses look grabs my attention almost every time.

LiterateLawyerGuy is different in that regard (though he does have wire-rimmed glasses - yea!) and it doesn't matter to me. For some reason that surprises me. And pleases me at the same time.

We've also been very honest with each other. We've thrown out our foibles, some of our pasts for the world to see and realized, hey, it's not so bad. He still likes me and I still like him. He knows all about CuteNerdBoy because he's read parts of this 'blog (he actually e-mailed me first through the 'blog, though he saw me on Match.com - he's a resourceful boy). He totally understands that I still have feelings for CuteNerdBoy and doesn't expect me to switch them off just because he and I have started dating. And he isn't presumptuous enough to expect exclusivity at this point. I told him the same thing, that of course I didn't expect him to be exclusive. His response? He tends to concentrate on one woman at a time. And I'm that woman.

So here I sit, thinking I'm probably crazy. Why? Because I miss LiterateLawyerBoy, feeling bereft if a day goes by without hearing from him in some fashion. But still hovering in the background are my feelings for CuteNerdBoy. There's a part of me that is reluctant to let go of those emotions, to completely shut the CuteNerdBoy Relationship Door, though I know that nothing will come of it. I suspect it's tough because he was the person that I wanted for a number of months, and I still do to a certain extent. I've finally admitted to myself that maybe, just maybe, I had fallen in love with the guy. Just a little, but enough for me to have difficulty shaking my feelings.

So maybe LiterateLawyerGuy is just the fellow to help me past those feelings. But then I realize that I don't want him to become ReboundGuy. He doesn't deserve that from me. He's too good for that. Then again, the last time such fears entered my mind, the prospective ReboundGuy became my longest, deepest relationship thus far. That might not be such a concern with me, after all.

On top of the LiterateLawyerGuy/CuteNerdBoy saga is my shameless flirtation with others. At the RockerChick's surprise birthday party on Sunday, what do I do? I hone in on the one single guy there, who happens to be cute and nice to boot, and flirt shamelessly with him, trying to distract him while we were playing pinball against each other (and when he was playing with others, too) by draping my cleavage across the top of the machine. Most of the time it worked.

(He wasn't the only one I did that with - the girlfriends and wives that were also playing were egging me on to distract their better halves - but SingleUPSBoy was my primary target. And he enjoyed being that target very much.)

But I've never been so uniformly shameless before. Maybe I'm just acting out after CuteNerdBoy's romantic rejection of me. Maybe I'm trying to prove that I'm desirable after all. Or maybe CuteNerdBoy's semi-joking naming of me "Harlot" (so named when I e-mailed him that I had gotten back from Vegas on a first date) wasn't so far off.

At any rate, I'm looking forward to seeing LiterateLawyerGuy again this weekend. FFDWG(FKaSarah) and I are throwing a joint holiday party on Saturday and LiterateLawyerGuy has said that he's going to make it, come hell or high water. He's going to be meeting a bunch of my friends for the first time. And he has promised me little sleep Saturday and a fun Sunday.

I can't wait.

It's hard to listen to a hard hard heart
Beating close to mine
Pounding up against the stone and steel
Walls that I won't climb

Sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep
You think that you're gonna drown
Sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep
With all this rain falling down

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain

It's hard to know when to give up the fight
Some things you want will just never be right
It's never rained like it has tonight before

Now I don't wanna beg you baby
For something maybe you could never give
I'm not looking for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain Rain Rain

Rain by Patty Griffin (from 1000 Kisses)

A beautiful song. One I first heard this morning while waiting for FFDWG(FKaSarah) to pick me up for a driving lesson (she's teaching me how to drive a manual transmission).

A light rain tapped on the windowpanes as I sat on my sofa. I turned the list of songs over in my hand, listening to the words, the music, feeling that familiar sensation of exultation when listening to a song that I know will fast become a favorite. Combined with exultation was sadness, overwhelming sadness.

Yesterday I spent at Disneyland with RockerChick (it was a birthday outing for her and she milked it for all it was worth - smart, smart girl), her hubby UPSGuy and a few of her friends, all of whom I'm well-acquainted with. And CuteNerdBoy. RockerChick invited him since they've recently become reacquainted and, since I'm carless, he agreed to give me a ride. We were there pretty much all day, with RockerChick, UPSGuy, CuteNerdBoy and myself closing down the park. We had a fabulous time: eating a great lunch at the Blue Bayou Restaurant, going on the Nightmare Before Christmas Haunted Mansion twice, riding a couple of other irdes, joking around with the Disney Cast Members, gaining primo VIP seating for Fantasmic. Way. Too much fun for one day.

The entire time I tried on my new "Friends Only" jacket with CuteNerdBoy. Most of the time the fit was a good one. I tried my best to appear to be nothing more than a close friend, attempting to make sure I didn't look like ClingyGirl. It was harder to do that when RockerChick grabbed me from the back of the group in the Teacups line and plopped me next to him so that we would be sure to share a teacup.

(I got so dizzy on that ride - CuteNerdBoy spun us like crazy and all I could do was cling to the side for dear life and shriek laughter like a particularly demented banshee.

I swear it must have also been "Throw Carol Around" day. I was either grabbed and tossed into some of the others to have my picture taken or I was unknowingly in someone's way of another picture and thrown out of the picture. It seemed like everyone, including CuteNerdBoy, got in on the act. [Actually CuteNerdBoy may have been the one to start the trend, now that I think about it.] I let them know that a few words would be sufficient to get me to move where they wanted me.)

But every once in a while I found the jacket binding, my arms tight at my side, the fabric heavier than I thought I could comfortably wear. Towards the end of the evening the five of us that were left watched the fireworks in delight. PainterGal and I stood with our arms around each other (her hubby couldn't make it) and I looped my free arm in CuteNerdBoy's. After a while his arm wound around my shoulder and the three of us stood like that until the end of the fireworks and through part of the falling "snow". His arm dropped and I looped mine around it again.

Later, as we walked to get some hot chocolate before Fantasmic started, PainterGal and I held hands. She proclaimed, "I don't need my husband! I have my girlfriend Carol to hold hands with!" At that point CuteNerdBoy's arm, around which my arm was still lightly looped, slid down and his hand took mine. And yet, despite my own jumbled emotions, I wouldn't trade those touches for anything.

I may have been wearing my "Friends Only" jacket, but I'll admit there were times it was hard to remember that. Especially when today, while at a surprise birthday party today that UPSGuy threw for RockerChick, those who were at both events were asking about CuteNerdBoy, wondering if we were dating, all saying what a great guy he was. I just nodded and smiled and agreed, keeping my pain to myself. And then RockerChick asked me, in front of everyone, details about my Vegas trip. Later I proceeded to flirt shamelessly with a co-worker of UPSGuy, to which he responded positively.

That jacket fit a little better. For a while at least.

So this morning I listened to Rain, remembered the thrill of yesterday, the sheer "having a blast" of it all, and felt the pain of my too keen longing. I wondered how it was possible that the same weekend contained such a range of extreme emotion.

I look forward to the inevitable day that my "Friends Only" jacket fits as if it were tailor-made for CuteNerdBoy and myself. It certainly won't be overnight, but I know it'll happen. Each time I see him I'm sure will be easier than the time before.

P.S.I wrote and posted this on Sunday night, but had trouble publishing it until Monday.

Labels: musical interlude

So, no post yesterday. Why? Because I stayed at work until just before 9pm and took the bus home, which, at that time of night, takes longer than, well, something that takes a really, really long time.

(My brain is toast right now. Insert your own clever phrase there. Hell, any time you read something here that sounds like it was written by a not particularly bright three year old, or George W. Bush, just come up with something funnier or smarter. Share it with the class, if you like. Y'all are clever. I trust you.)

I'm just so happy to be home right now. It was one of those days that made want to curl up under my desk at work and tell everyone else to figure things out for themselves. I had a doctor's appointment in the morning, got to work really late, then busted my ass - and the asses of those around me - trying to finish up our month-end close. I didn't take lunch (which is fine, since I got into work late) and the two women that work for me didn't get to take lunch until after 3pm. Yeah, I'm such a slave driver. But we didn't have any choice because the other areas of my department couldn't start their close until we finished ours. It's not even like it was all that hellish, volume-wise. We just had three days off right before close and we trying to catch up from that.

(Aren't y'all enthralled? No? Well, stay awake anyway and finish reading the post. It would make me feel so much better. Thanks much.)

But I'm home, and I'll be going to bed soon, and all will be joy and light and laughter. And I may even be able to finish up the Vegas story tomorrow.

So. This Weekend. Yeah.

Outrageously early on Friday morning (as in, I hadn't gone to sleep yet Thursday night), I was having a little (4 hour) online chat with LiterateLawyerGuy. Somewhere with the first hour or so he says he wants to ask me a semi-serious question and wonders if it's ok. Sure, I type.

He was probably going to Las Vegas over the weekend for business - would I care to join him?

I think I stared at the screen for a moment, blood rushing to my face. My response - aside from the whole "we'd never even met in person and I have incredible personal safety issues" side of it, if it weren't for certain circumstances (most of which I can't even remember now) I'd semi-seriously consider his offer. I'm not going to share all the details of that conversation, as it would become a super long post, but after some typing back and forth, I told him I'd have to think about it, but that it was an attractive offer. And we moved on to other subjects.

After I finally woke up around 3pm on Friday, I spoke with FFDWG(FKaSarah) and ModelGirl about his proposal. Their advice was, if I felt safe, then I should go for it. My instinct said yes, my issues said no. Later in the evening I spoke with LiterateLawyerGuy. I agreed to meet him in Vegas. He was, to put it mildly, shocked. Incredibly surprised. Perhaps even utterly taken aback. I was just as astounded that I said yes.

The rest of the evening we called back and forth, working out logistics, finally agreeing that I would fly out of Burbank Saturday afternoon and meet him at McCarran International Airport when my plane landed, as he planned to fly out from San Diego earlier to take care of business. The plan was to stay up all night Saturday and fly back to Burbank early Sunday morning, whereupon he’d crash on my sofa and either we’d hang out in L.A. or he’d head back to his main home in La Jolla (he splits his time about 60/40 between his house in La Jolla and his apartment in Santa Monica).

Saturday I woke up early, did a little laundry and picked up my disaster of an apartment so that it would at least be presentable the next morning. FFDWG(FKaSarah) stopped by to drop off my steam cleaner and her cell phone, which she was loaning to me for the weekend so that I would feel a bit safer about meeting a previously unmet man hundreds of miles from home. She was also sweet enough to drop me off at the airport, especially since I kept her waiting a good 45-60 minutes while finishing getting ready and packing.

I caught my flight just fine and was in Vegas by 5pm. I knew LiterateLawyerGuy was going to be a little late because he was having problems with the report that he had to deliver, but once I got to Vegas I called him and found out he was going to be even later. No big deal. I just got some coffee at the airport Coffee Bean, lost about $4 in slots, then waited in a booth seat at one of those combo fast food restaurants endemic to airports. As I waited he called again – his flight was delayed another hour. He ended up not leaving San Diego until nearly 8pm. It truly was a comedy of errors. Except it was lacking the funny of comedies.

Finally, finally, finally, his plane landed and, since I hadn’t left the terminal I was waiting for him at the gate. Out he walked, looking tired and scanning the surroundings. I saw him first (having seen several photos I knew what he looked like) and called his name. A smile lit his face as he walked up to me. He gave me a big bear hug, which I returned, and we got out of that airport as fast as we could. It was after 9:30pm by the time we entered the rental car.

I felt my natural shyness coming to fore (which he actually found charming), but within a few hours that shyness was gone. He was immediately comfortable with me and I was soon comfortable with him.

There’s so much more to just that evening, the mix-ups with checking in – we decided to extend our stay to early Monday morning and the room that was originally booked just for changing clothes became our “home” for the weekend; dressing up for dinner; the driving around trying to find an open restaurant after midnight, which was harder than one might think on a Saturday evening in Vegas; the excellent food and drinks, then back to the hotel for some serious making out. We didn’t fall asleep until after sunrise. It was all terrific.

We finally woke up after 1pm, lolled about the room for a while, reading favorite selections (I read to him the “House of Smut Revisted” from Pamie’s book, which he loved) and talking and making out, finally leaving the room at 4pm for a very late brunch at Hard Rock. Then he gambled at blackjack a little, we shopped for music (he gifted me with a Strokes CD – see sidebar), went for a drink, drove around Vegas trying to find a movie theater, watched Love Actually with some very obnoxious teens sitting behind us (he had to calm me down to keep me from ripping off some heads), then back to the hotel for some blessed sleep before waking up way too early to get me to the airport so that I could get to work on time Monday morning. Still not sure how we managed that one.

All in all, a really fun, enjoyable, thoroughly unexpected weekend. And we really were very comfortable together, which was nice. I’m still slightly gun-shy, which he knew. He was by turns solicitous and bold, saying all the right things but obviously sincere about his words. And both still pleased and surprised that I had agreed to such a weekend.

Two new quiz answers (thanks Beth and Chuck):

What color are you?:

you are plum #DDA0DD

Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be. Your saturation level is low - You stay out of stressful situations and advise others to do the same. You may not be the go-to person when something really needs done, but you know never to blow things out of proportion. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

Pretty darned close, I'd say.

Which John Cusack are you?:


Which John Cusack Are You?

Maybe I should watch the movie sometime. I do have it on tape. I've never worn a tuxedo, but I'm sure I would look really hot in one.

...to post an entry every day in December. Not one or two sentences, but a full-fledged, 50 word minimum entry. Why? Because I've registered with Holidailies 2003 and thems the rules.

Not that it's all that difficult, mind you. This is me we're talking about. For the most part I've been consistently verbose on a daily basis. Still, after posting only one entry while I was on my looong weekend, and that on Thanksgiving, I thought this would be a good way to start up again.

Things is, I'm so damned tired that I don't have the energy to write what I want to write about because, frankly, it would take a long time and I need to spend time with my kitties and get some quality sleep. But I will give a brief holiday weekend update:

Wednesday: I did nothing except sleep and watch TV and talk on the phone. Boy, did I need that sleep!

Thursday: Thanksgiving! Updated here, then went to BabySis' soon-to-be-in-laws' place to hang with family and WestHollywoodBoy, eating too much and laughing and talking and playing with BSSon and watching DVDs (Bruce Almighty - eh; X2 - yea!). Fun, fun time. Then got home at 2:30am on Friday, stayed up until 7am IMing with LiterateLawyerGuy (my oh my, such a delightfully dirty mind that fella has).

Friday: Again I did nothing except sleep and talk on the phone, a number of times with LiterateLawyerGuy (it got pretty, um, steamy once or twice).

Saturday: Woke up early and ran around trying to get things ready for an unexpected trip to Las Vegas. Where I ended up meeting LiterateLawyerGuy for the first time in person and embarked with him on a 30+ hour first date that included dinner, breakfast (which wasn't eaten until after 4pm), drinks, talking, movies, gambling, laughing, reading selections from our favorite writings, shopping for music, checking e-mails and trying to get some sleep, but not doing too well on that last front. Oh, and a little (okay, maybe more than a little) harmless "heavy petting". But we were still virtuous people. Mostly.

Oh, you want to read more? Considering that’s the thing that’s going to take a long time to write, you’ll have to wait. I’ll work on it tomorrow, after I’ve had some sleep - one rarely sleeps in Vegas, it would seem, and I took a taxi directly from LAX to work at 8:30 this morning, so yeah, I’m a bit tuckered out.

I know, I’m such a meanie.

And now for some quality kitty time, then blessed sleep.

What am I thankful for? Always a good question, but never more so than when the year has been a topsy-turvy one:

1) My family - it's been a tough year for us and they've certainly driven me crazy more than once, but they are, for the most part, good people with good intentions and I love them dearly.

2) My friends - if I was ever idiot enough to doubt their specialness, their unwavering support through a tough year has opened my eyes. I love every one of them dearly as well.

3) My pets - occasionally four cats are a handful, but they're great pets and I'm so happy I have them.

4) My health - I've got a few tweaks in the health arena (sinuses, joints, neck), but I'm still hale and hearty and able to help friends move sofas (which I did on Monday - my forearms are still a little sore).

5) The internet - a scary thing to some, it's brought me nothing but happiness. Because I've actually met some fantastic people thanks to the internet. One of my dearest friends was met through the her first website and, though she's half a world away, she will always be very important to me. The internet is also what created a friend out of Christopher. It's enabling me to have a terrifically shameless flirtation with LiterateLawyerGuy, which is going well (we have plans to get together sometime next week).

And it brought CuteNerdBoy back into my life twice, this last time more intensely and wonderfully than before. My emotions may have been all over the place in regards to him, but I'm glad he's in my life. Thanks to the internet.

6) My job - true, I'm not crazy about it, it pays crap and sometimes I want to stand on a desk and scream, but I have one. That's more than can be said for so many people. So I'm thankful for that. And through it I've met even more fantastic people. And I'm off from yesterday through Friday, plus the weekend. Five days of no work. Always a good thing.

And last, but by no means least:

7) Life - it really is a precious gift, to be appreciated and savored. No matter how shitty it can get, with work and luck and terrific people with whom to share the journey, it can also be incredible. I am beyond thankful for my life and for the lives of those I care about.

So, to all of my American readers (all five of you, I think) - a very Happy Thanksgiving. I'll be spending it with my family and one of my friends (WestHollywoodBoy). I hope you spend it with those that are special to you.

(I'd say Happy Turkey Day, but, well, vegetarian and all. So than I'd say Happy Tofurkey day, but I've had it - it's pretty nasty stuff. Though the gravy and stuffing were yummy.)

And for my international readers (I know of at least three), just have a fabulous late-November day. It's beautiful and sunny in L.A. - may you have the weather of your dreams.

Enjoy!

...I'm twelve years old.

I didn't know this until it was pointed out to me. I mean, I have personal memories of Nixon's resignation and the Bicentennial and the attempted assassinations of Reagan and the Pope. I'm pretty sure twelve year olds don't possess such memories.

But - and this was a while ago - I went to lunch with a friend at a sandwich place, ordered my usual veggie sandwich on French roll and bag o' chips. We sat down and I prepared my sandwich in my accustomed manner: lift top piece of bread, place enough potato chips on open sandwich to cover veggies, close sandwich, eat. Add chips as needed. Other sorts of chips will do, but potato chips are the best for sandwich insertion. They're light and crispy and will crunch in a most satisfying manner with little work on my part (corn and tortilla chips require more effort in the biting department).

My friend looked at me, bemused. "I used to like to put chips on my sandwich. When I was twelve."

My eyes widened incredulously. "Oh, but a sandwich like this isn't complete without chips. You've got to have the crunch."

She just shook her head and we continued with other conversations without incident. But it did get me to remembering my other childhood foods. I wondered why they never made it to adulthood. After thinking about the taste sensations, I stopped wondering.

Some of them I still resurrect every once in a while. Toast with melted butter and cinnamon sugar. Cottage cheese with tomatoes. Baked potatoes smothered in corn, butter and garlic salt. Okay, that last one I have about once a month.

But others? Are foods only a child would love.

Remember how Laverne on Laverne and Shirley swore by milk and Pepsi? I tried it and loved it. It tasted like root beer, except creamier. Anything that tasted creamy and root-beer-like was a-ok by me.

I loved to put things on bread. White bread, of course, but rarely Wonder Bread. Wonder Bread was a little too expensive for my military-salaried father. Unfortunately a couple of the spreads were truly questionable. You'd think margarine and sugar wouldn't be a big deal, right? My method - pile on enough margarine so that teeth marks can be seen when bitten into, sprinkle lots of sugar, eat. Today I cringe at that.

But not as much as my favorite. I warn you, this is not for the weak of stomach. Take two pieces of white bread. Cover thickly with Miracle Whip. Liberally douse with granulated sugar. Eat. Wash down with milk or root beer (or milk and Pepsi).

I loved the contrast of tangy, creamy and sweet, the soft, soft bread and, of course, the crunch of the sugar.

It always comes back to the crunch. Which is why I will always probably be twelve at heart.

No one takes away my potato chip/veggie sandwich.

Installment Five of Stale Steele is up for your reading pleasure. The "plot" thickens.

For those of you familiar with L.A., I'm aware that Toluca Lake is not a "solidly middle class neighborhood", but is instead rather upper middle class or lower upper class. I'll change the neighborhood when I get to work, since my home computer will not allow me to log onto that 'blog. No, I have no idea why. So imagine instead that Alaina is in Northridge or Chatsworth or Canoga Park. There are one or two other changes I want to make - nothing earth-shattering.

It is one p.m. and still it sits, untouched, in the same place as this morning. Low, dark and round, squatly monolithic, it is evident that a great deal of care has gone into its creation. A solitary spire sticks straight up in the air, an obvious afterthought that nonetheless adds to its importance. Nearby rests a sharp implement, deadly in its intent, ready to inflict extreme damage in the right hands. The hands need not even be skilled should they wish to whittle it away. A few cuts and it would be gone forever.

As my gaze falls upon it once again, two questions roll through my mind: why on earth is a chocolate-frosted cake with a candle in it on the kitchen table at work and why has no one touched it?

Questions to ponder throughout the ages.

1) I picked up one of those monthly Star Scrolls at 7-11 today. It was for the month of December. The first two sentences? "One could say this past year has been expensive. You have paid out a lot - financially, emotionally and with hard work." Another sentence read, "Meanwhile you also weathered relationship storms whipped up by guilt, blame or responsibility that, in fact, didn't belong to you." And the kicker, the one that really struck home for me: "Perhaps the toughest lesson this year was discovering that you can't simply put things back and have conditions as they were before."

Yep, it's all so very true, considering the dynamic of my family has changed forever. My first instinct was to be snarky, to say, "No shit, Sherlock." But that accomplishes nothing. Besides which, it's a friggin' piece of paper. I don't think it's going to be effected by my snarky attitude.

2) The re-reading of several 'blog entries points to one unmistakable conclusion: I need to get laid. I don't want casual sex. I don't want a one night stand. But all this unfulfilled sexuality has got to go somewhere and right now it's seeping into the 'blog, much like...like...well, like something that seeps. A lot.

I've just got to be more creative with my entries. Try to come up with something that doesn't devolve into thoughts of sweaty bodies and pulsing rhythms and hot mouths and...

A-hem. Yeah. Excuse me, but I think it's cold shower time.

...and day...

Saturday was one of those days that was chock full of busy. But busy in a good, fun way. I woke later than I anticipated, due to my desperate need for sleep, puttered around the house a little and played with my brand new vacuum cleaner. My old one broke a number of months ago and I'd either been borrowing friends' vacuums or using a broom and/or pet hair sponge. So to have this pretty new one, with a HEPA filter and in a lovely blue which matched my decor (a happy accident), made me pleased as punch. And it works well, too! For only sixty bucks - I love you, Target!

Around noon or so I got a call from FFDWG(FKaSarah), asking about the Ikea in my area. She was looking for a dresser and didn't want to fight the southbound traffic to go to her usual one, so was I doing anything and did I want to tag along? I had planned on going to Target to stock up on some big heavy stuff, like cat little and cat food and the like, since I'll be giving up the rental car Monday morning now that the MTA strike is over. *sigh* I'll miss that car.

Since the Target and Ikea are close to each other, I said come on over! And she did, and we took the rental car, and it was good. Well, except that the dresser she wanted was out of stock, what with it being on sale and everything, which made both of us rather bummed for her. But still a good round of shopping for me. We went back to my place, she went home, but we knew we'd see each other later that night because we had tickets to a rave-like party in Canoga Park - more on that later.

As I entered my front door, Burger King bag in hand (their Whopper with cheese minus the meat is surprisingly yummy), I noticed the answering machine light flashing three times. I knew two of the messages were from Sarah that I had cut off, but I wondered who #3 might be. It was CuteNerdBoy, driving home from Vegas and wanting to say hi, then jokingly accusing me of being out partying again, you little tramp! I chuckled, then called him right back, since it seemed I had just missed his call.

"CuteNerdBoy, this is Carol. How dare you call me a little tramp?!" I laughed over the phone.

He returned my laugh. "What would you rather I call you - a trollop?"

"I was out shopping! Shopping! I was not partying! That's not until tonight."

I told him about the party, and the $10 tickets, which were very cheap for anything rave-like. Turns out he wanted to invite me to a SAG screening of The Missing that night. Though I really wanted to go, I demurred, citing previous commitments (both the party and a few hours at ModelGirl's place). My whirring little mind tried to find a way to fit it all in, because I hate to miss anything, but even it couldn't perform that feat. He realized that he couldn't expect someone as popular as myself to be available at such short notice, but he decided to try after all.

(Ah, what a lovely ego stroke that is. I'd love another. Yeah, that's me, popular with all my friends! *preen*)

We spoke for a little longer, and he wished me fun at my rave and behooved me to be careful. He then mentioned something about me bringing home a boy toy, to which I replied, "My place is too much of a mess right now - I'm not bringing anyone home tonight." Since I didn't have designs on hooking up with anyone, just dancing with a bunch of strangers, I was pretty much telling the truth.

Soon after I received a call from ModelGirl. We talked about meeting, but when I told her that the party was in the Valley and I had to be back home by a certain time to meet FFDWG(FKaSarah), she told me not to worry, she didn't want me to be driving all over the place and she was really tired anyway (she and her hubby live south of Hollywood). Instead we made plans to get together the day after Thanksgiving, like we used to do, but hadn't in a couple of years.

Well, lookee there! An opening in the schedule. I called CuteNerdBoy back. (And really, who amongst you didn't see that coming?) There were two screenings of The Missing, one at 6pm and one at 9pm. I couldn't do the 9pm, what with the party and all, but if I hurried I could meet him at the DGA for the 6pm screening. And so it was set. I quickly changed my clothes, as what I was wearing was intended for the party and I was just trying it on to see how it looked. What I wore instead was an outfit he'd seen me in a couple of times, but it was quick and clean and I knew I looked great in it. I was having an excellent hair day, so I didn't have to worry about that. The only thing? No time for make-up. I was make-up-less, as I often am unless I'm going out for an evening. What the hell, I thought, it's time he saw me sans make-up. All of my other friends have. I used a little powder and lip-gloss while waiting at lights, but otherwise my face was in all its naked glory.

(Yes, I know we're just friends and all, but I still can't help wanting to look nice for him. It's the girly-girl in me.)

So after making a couple of calls to FFDWG(FKaSarah) and CuteNerdBoy for logistics about the evening, I rushed over to the DGA, which is about 15 minutes away. I encountered traffic on Laurel Canyon Blvd and ended up making the movie with 15 seconds to spare. Except they didn't actually start the movie for another five minutes, but that was okay. CuteNerdBoy still made it there before me. He looked all cute and slightly scruffy, with his jeans and flannel shirt and a little stubble after the long drive from Vegas. Slightly scruffy is a good look for him. He has a young face, with its cute, nerdy look, and the scruffy roughens him up a little. And he didn't run away screaming at the sight of my au naturel face, so I guess I look okay without make-up after all.

And on to the movie. It was a good movie. I knew nothing about it except for the billboards around town. I could guess that it was a period picture, but I thought maybe it was from the 1930s. Nope, 1885. I will say that it is a definite advantage to not know about the movie you're about to watch. I didn't even know it was a Ron Howard film until I saw Clint Howard.

(Yes, I know he doesn't work only in his brother's films, but it's always a big indicator. Personally I like him a lot. Maybe it was his Star Trek stint.)

I really became invested in the story and the characters. Plus I've adored Cate Blanchett in pretty much everything I've ever seen her in. There may be rumors floating around that, on occasion, tears sprung to my eyes, to be surreptitiously wiped away, but I assure you that those are malicious and idle truths.

Unfortunately after the movie there was no time for us to chat, so we walked to our cars, catching up a little bit (luckily I happened to park next to his van - that's where an open space was), shared a quick but strong hug and off we went, him to get some dinner and me to meet FFDWG(FKaSarah).

(I have got to remember to let him know that his personal is doing a great job with him. Yes, I've been wanting to jump his bones since meeting up again in June [I think it started earlier with reading his e-mails, actually], but I noticed that he was a bit heavier than the last time I had seen him in '98. His work-outs are looking mighty nice on him, making my extreme self-control that much harder. I can do it, though. I've had a life-time of practice at self-control in that arena.

And maybe I need to get back to exercising myself. I've lost another five pounds, which is cool, but this tummy of mine is really annoying me. Whoops! Tangent, much?)

Once I got home I had just enough time to change, e-mail CuteNerdBoy to thank him for the invite and leave when FFDWG(FKaSarah) showed up. It was a PJ party, so she dressed in tap pants and chemise, with a few more layers to guard against the cold, including a wool robe. Me? I went the sexy route, of course, wearing a long black nightgown with lace insets that I bought a number of months ago (hoping it would see some CuteNerdBoy use *sigh*). It had spaghetti straps, was low-cut and the lace insets were such that, had I not been wearing undergarments (sexy ones, of course) the party participants would have seen much more of me than I would have preferred. I had kind of forgotten about that when I planned the outfit. And of course some sandals with heels that were high enough to be sexy but not high enough to be painful. At least not for a few hours. Over that I threw a warm thick robe. Still no make-up, but I knew it would probably be dark, so no one would be able to tell anyway.

Off to the party we went. FFDWG(FKaSarah) wrote about it in detail, so I won't go into the whole evening, but it was fun. For my part, I was very enthralled by the man dancing with the orb. He was cute and very graceful, with obvious dance training under his belt. Scary Danny was very icky and, since I had no desire to experiment with drugs or accept anything from anyone, especially someone so patently creepy, I can't say I felt bad about ignoring him. FFDWG(FKaSarah) was fascinated by the fire dancers on stage. I stayed nearer to the stage for my dancing, which was usually enthusiastic in the extreme (I'm a very good dancer and I totally get into the music - maybe I should have moved back with FFDWG(FKaSarah) for room to dance the way I really like to dance). There was an attractive African-American gentleman that had been checking me out, even looking directly into my eyes and saying hi to me as he walked by, but he never asked me to dance and I'm too chicken-shit to make the first move. All I wanted was to dance (no boy toys for me last night, as that's not what I really wanted), so it would have been fun, but that's cool too. The Moon Bounce was tons of fun and proved that my bra was a really good, very supportive one. Always a good thing in my book. I had been planning on having a couple of drinks once we got there, but didn't feel like it after all, so I was totally sober the whole time. And I got home around 3:30am, after a bit of food at a Denny's not far from the party, whereupon I fell into a deep restful sleep. Thank heavens I was already wearing sleepwear!

So yeah, lots of fun yesterday. I may do something like that party again. But next time I'll have to bring a boy to dance all sexy with.

...as I look. Though I'm not sure how innocent I look.

Since I'm a sucker for quizzes, I had to take The Ultimate Purity Test when I saw it on Beth's site. My results are:

Your Ultimate Purity Score Is...
Category	Your Score	Average
Self-Lovin'	56.7% Explored the pleasures of the flesh	65.1%
Shamelessness	73.8% It takes a couple of drinks	79.3%
Sex Drive	60.5% A fool for love, but not always	77.7%
Straightness	5.4% Knows the other body type like a map	45.1%
Gayness	94.6% Repressed, are we?	83.3%
Fucking Sick	90.3% Refreshingly normal	89.9%
You are 64.45% pure Average Score: 72.6%
Take The Ultimate Purity Test and see how you match up!

I could stand to be a little less pure, but overall I'm happy with the results.

...been waiting for: my review of Kill Bill, Vol. 1.

It's a beautifully done film. The cinematography, the direction, the visual and storytelling effects - simply fantastic. I love the soundtrack. The acting was exactly what was needed for such a film. Great stunts.

I can't really recommend it.

I know what it was going for, the whole "live-action anime" thing. Not having seen much anime, I can't say how well it succeeded on that front. It was definitely cartoonish in the extreme. I knew going in how bloody and violent it was (I read an article about the making of the movie in which Tarentino had run out of "blood" in one scene and someone had to get more somehow).

Knowing all this, it was still far too violent and one-dimensional for my tastes. I spent most of the movie cringing or slouching in my seat, watching it through splayed fingers. occasionally taking off my glasses so that the imagery would be severely blurred. I was able to sit through the whole film, because I've never bailed on a movie in a theater (even a free one) and I wasn't about to start with one that, despite its faults, was still well-done. But if it had been as gory as it was bloody, even I would have had to leave, like poor FDWG(FKaSarah).

I wil say that my favorite thing about the movie, besides the soundtrack, was Sonny Chiba. He is just beyond cool.

Will I watch Kill Bill: Vol. 2? As long as I don't have to pay for it.

So yesterday FFDWG(FKaSarah) and I were talking, as we do pretty much everyday, what with us working together and all. I had just published my ranty entry and was telling her about it. She said that the entry must have, in some way, been inspired by the link that I posted the previous day and maybe I wanted to rule the world too? I had admit that it was a possibility, but that I was fine with Alli and PoolBoy becoming evil overlords as long as they were neat about it and I survived.

"Carol, it doesn't sound like they were going for the neat approach. You know, wholesale slaughtering and trodding over their enemies."

"They could still be neat about it."

She gave me an intensely puzzled look. "How?!"

It took only half a second of thought to come up with an answer. "Well, you know the people that are going to be left alive? The boat boys?"

"And the massage girls."

"Right. Well, those people could clean up after them and... Wait, too big a mess and not enough living people. Ooh, I know! The first wave they only kill half the people and enslave the rest, making them clean up, then kill the rest. Except the boat boys and massage girls, of course."

"But that's still too big a mess for two waves -- "

"No, it's not. Because they should do it in several waves, you know, sweep across the earth and just keep killing part of the victims, make the others clean up, kill them, then move onto the next section."

"Or maybe they could just keep one part of the area clean and not worry about the rest."

"The smell would carry."

"How about an island? Then they wouldn't have to think about cleaning up messes or the smell or -- "

"No! They can't leave a mess! It's just wrong! It's aesthetically displeasing. It's a workable plan, really it is. And you know, it kind of scares me that I came up with it so readily."

She laughed and walked away. She called out behind her, "You need to write this."

"Really? Okay."

It does scare me a little that such a plan sprung so easily from my twisted little mind. I like to think that I was just gearing up for watching our company's free screening of Kill Bill.

Yeah, that's it. I'm such a gentle little putty-tat that I had to prepare myself for the evening of carnage ahead of me.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I was going to write a somewhat humorous entry, but there's too much else going on in my head. Too many thoughts bouncing around my mind tonight. Too many thoughts about boys. I swear boys will be my downfall. Too many boys to write about. Well, not too many, as three really aren't a whole heck of a lot. But three boys are more than I'm used to thinking about at once. So maybe I'll just hit the highlights, because, much like Lays (heh), I can't choose just one.

The trick now is to figure out who to start with. Why not he who has figured so prominently thus far? It feels as if CuteNerdBoy and I are really, truly working our friendship out. We've continued exchanging e-mails while he's been out of town this past week (mine incredibly rambling, as I can't seem to be brief to save my life), and I feel as if we're on firmer ground. The sadness is mostly gone, with the occasional twinge here and there. But that's normal, as I tend to take a little while to work through my emotions. As I predicted, I'll be okay. We'll be okay.

Next up? LiterateLawyerGuy. We chatted last night for a while, then switched to talking on the phone. Yep, we've already moved on to the phone. We spoke for 1 1/2 hours, about various subjects, he read some poetry to me (both original and poems by T.S. Eliot and Wilfred Owen) and we flirted shamelessly. It was fun, I really enjoyed it. We've decided that we want to continue with the chatting and the talking, maybe moving on to an actual date fairly soon. He's not always local, as the law firm he works for is based in San Diego and he splits his time between San Diego and Los Angeles, but I'm sure we'll get together soon enough. I have to say, the thought of dating someone that isn't within a 50 mile radius pulls me up short, but maybe it's time I tried something new.

Boy #3 is someone I shouldn't even be thinking about, or worrying about. He's in my past and will continue to be in my past. But what do you stumble upon some new information about him that maybe you didn't want to know? When you find out the man you once lived with, the man you once thought was the love of your life, who you loved more than life itself, the man that left you when you made it clear that the next step in the relationship was marriage and that you would accept nothing less - what do you do when you find out he's married? That somewhere over the last however many years it's been he found someone that he was more willing to marry, to share the rest of his life with, than you?

It's so weird. I'm not in love with him anymore. However, I learned so many valuable lessons from that relationship that I'll always be indebted to it, and to him.

But to know, without a doubt, that he's moved on, started a new life while I've felt stagnant for so many years, despite my best efforts, that it's only now that I'm starting to really feel like a truly desirable woman again, it strikes against me. I start to wonder what about me wasn't good enough for him. Or apparently any other man from 1997 to 2003. Yeah, that's how long it's been since my last romantic relationship.

Geez, self-pity much? Here I've been like Scarlett O'Hara lately, the boys flocking around (at least in the online world), and I'm saying, "Fiddle-dee-dee, oh woe is me." I'm just working it all out in my head again, trying to process this new information. Wondering where it's eventually going to be filed and why I'm letting it affect me.

It's affecting me enough that I can't even think of an ending for this entry. Well, ain't that a kicker? I'll just sleep on it and see where it sits tomorrow.

People must be shot. It's that simple.

What people, you ask?

Public slobs. Those who are too good to clean up their own damn messes.

Look, I'm hardly the poster girl for neatness. My apartment is often a horrible mess, usually straightened or cleaned only when I'm expecting company (which is a good reason have people over fairly often). My past cars have generally had backseats covered with papers and bags and clothes. I frequently had to clear off the passenger seat whenever I had a passenger, the stuff formerly resting on the seat joining the growing pile in the back. My tiny work station has piles of papers everywhere and could use a good dose of organization (though part of it is there is a dearth of filing space, or any kind of space).

What I'm saying is I'm not the most uncluttered of gals. But when sharing a space I try to keep things neat and clean. I try to be always very cognizant of leaving things the way I found them (sometimes even better) when traipsing through shared apartments and houses and rooms, both at home and at the office. It's just plain common courtesy.

So when I go into the kitchen at work and find hot chocolate powder or spilled coffee or crumpled up paper towels strewn across the counter tops, it's all I can do to not charge through the office, screaming for the perpetrator's head, only to grab him (or her), fling her into the offending counter and force him to clean up the mess with their tongue and a toothbrush. Especially since I tend to clean up others' messes while cleaning up my own.

So yeah. Find 'em, line 'em up and shoot 'em. No, I don't think I'm being harsh at all. At least we'll weed the idiots out of the gene pool, hopefully before they can breed.

And that can only be good.

"You're addicted!" she shouted at me, her wavy reddish hair tumbling about her shoulders as she nearly guffawed.

I over-acted hurt, confusion, denial, though I laughingly agreed with her eventually. Thing is, she was absolutely right. I am addicted.

Addicted to my referral logs, wondering how many people have hit my site so far today, what odd search strings have sent them to my humble 'blog.

(Top two right now? "P*ris Hilt*n v*deo" - minus the asterisks - and "Pamie stee dating". Funny that.)

Addicted to my e-mail, wondering if the e-mails I've been expecting have shown up, or if any of my readers have e-mailed me or signed my guestbook.

Addicted to checking my comments, seeing if anyone has opinions about what I've written that day.

Addicted to reading and re-reading my own writing to make sure I conveyed the feelings, the thoughts I intended to convey and wondering what both strangers and friends would make of these public words.

I'm addicted to feedback, and I don't think there's a twelve step program for it.

Then again, I wasn't the only person playing at the computers at work until the late hours of the evening...

<Montgomery Burns>Excellent.</Montgomery Burns>
What? I'm too tired for original content tonight. They're much funnier. Besides, I have to save my witticisms for chatting and flirting shamelessly with literate lawyer boys.

...simply Evil.

Like all red-blooded straight women (at least those with any shred of sanity), I'm totally in lust with Hugh Jackman. Not only is he very yummy eye candy, he's a very talented fellow (and his brooding ability in the X-Men movies makes David Boreanaz's Angel look like a pouty little boy).

So imagine my mixture of delight and dismay when I learned that he's in a Great Performance's production of Oklahoma!. Hugh Jackman as Curly, singing and dancing and being all manly (no, that's not mutually exclusive). A truly thrilling thought for a musical theatre geek like me.

Except.

It's Oklahoma! It's Rodgers and Hammerstein. With the exception of a few songs, I cannot stand Rodgers and Hammerstein. Sacrilege, I know, but they usually bore me to tears.

(Don't even get me started on the awfulness that is Carousel.)

And yet, I have no doubt I will watch it. Because I'm dying to see that lovely Hugh display many of his talents.

Therefore, Hugh Jackman? Is Evil.

Damn his sexy eyes.

Yea Massachusetts, go Massachusetts , it's your birthday, yeah momma!

Not surprisingly, I like John Scalzi's comments on the ruling. The boy's got some brains!

Mmmm, brains... *drool*

...the sadness sets in.

It started Sunday night and, with the exception of a few bright spots here and there, I've been finding myself really sad about what's been happening in regards to CuteNerdBoy.

(I swear, one of these days I'll stop posting about him. Honest. I'll find someone else to post about endlessly.)

We're still friends. That hasn't changed. I have no doubt that our friendship (which, to be perfectly honest, is actually still rather new), will mature into an even more incredible friendship as time goes by. I actually look forward to that process.

I know that as the days pass and emotions settle, I'll move past this sorrow that pulls down on my heart. It's just all still a little fresh.

I suppose the melancholy is inevitable. I've allowed my emotions for him deepen, perhaps too quickly. I had a certain outcome set in mind these last four or five months. I knew what I wanted, who I wanted, and let his own mixed feelings and signals fuel my vivid fantasies, no matter how grounded I tried to be.

Now I'm having to stop, re-evaluate the feelings and the facts that are roiling in me. It's hard to change gears, especially for someone like me. Someone who knows that change is inevitable, having grown up in a constant state of flux, but unwittingly resists it. Especially when my emotions are involved.

That shift makes me sad.

Oddly enough, there's a new development that, while it has proven to be one of those bright spots I mentioned at the beginning, is also exacerbating my sense of loss.

I previously wrote that I've been having an e-mail exchange with a fascinating gentleman that I met through Match.com. We've since chatted online a few times and I'm finding him thoroughly delightful. He makes me smile and laugh and even blush. We've yet to speak on the phone or in person, but so far I'm enjoying our exchanges immensely. We have another chat date tonight.

In addition, I've since received lovely e-mails from a couple of other gentlemen that seem interesting. The dating life could be looking up.

How does that exacerbate my sorrow about what's happening with CuteNerdBoy? Well, you see that door in the corner? The one to a hopeful, beautiful romantic relationship with him, the one that he had closed for the time being, but was perhaps still open just a little bit? With other men entering the picture, it feels as if the CuteNerdBoy Relationship Door is shutting completely. It's shutting and might be locked, then nailed close.

That hurts. That makes me very sad.

Look, I'll be okay. We'll be okay. As I've said way too many times before, he means enough to me as a person that I value him too much to let him leave my life completely. Aside from what is going on with him in his own self, he's just a fabulous guy. I like to have fabulous people in my world. It's one of the things that make me happiest. Like root beer and peanut butter.

CuteNerdBoy can no longer be my oxygen. He must now be my peanut butter. And it's time for laughter and flirtation to lighten my heavy heart again.

I first saw him when I was young, perhaps too young to really know what, who I was seeing. He stood tall, commanding, his deep English-accented voice rumbling through the room, reaching through to me as I cowered behind my mother, hoping that this 5'2" woman in front of me could protect me from the menace in his dark, penetrating eyes.

Despite my fear I watched him in fascination, mesmerized by his authority, by his elegantly cut clothes, perhaps even by a certain smouldering sensuality that lie barely hidden beneath the veneer of civility he wore as a cloak. At such an youthful age I had no knowledge of sensuality, but I knew that this man with the thick black hair and the deep-set eyes before me was very different than any I had seen in my short five years upon this earth. He was new, exotic, compelling to the suburban, Midwestern-parented child that I was.

When at last he pounced I screamed, darted even further behind my mother, but I could not take my eyes off him, off his power, though I soon realized that perhaps even my mother and her recliner could not save me from the whippet-fast creature flickering on the late-night TV screen.

Christopher Lee as the title chracter in The Horror of Dracula. Is it any wonder I fell in love with vampire lore and tall, dark Englishmen?

...to like uncool music. DragonAttack says so. Now I don't feel bad about my own love for Take On Me. Or Weekend in New England.

(You, over by the fence. Stop your snickering. That song means a lot to me.)

Thank you, DragonAttack!

...table for two.

It's always so interesting going back to read my posts the day (or the week or the month) after I write them. Even with carefully chosen words the emotion comes through loud and clear.

Which is perfectly okay. After all, that's how I was feeling yesterday and it would be dishonest of me to pretend otherwise. Especially since I'm one of those people who believes it's best to own up to my "negative" emotions, at least to myself if no one else, to allow myself to feel them fully in order to purge them and move past them. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

This time I think it pretty much worked. I'm feeling much better today. Oh, I'm not saying there aren't traces of anger and bitterness still circling around my heart. Of course there are. It'll be a little while before they disappear completely.

But it's a beautiful sunny day out today, which is welcome after all the rain L.A. received yesterday. I'm about to go off to work (which isn't so great, but I don't mind it too much) and CuteNerdBoy apologized for coming off so harsh, as he didn't mean to be. And for once in my life I didn't respond back, "Oh, it's okay." Because it wasn't. As I told him, I'm finally learning that I don't have to be agreeable all the time, that being so would be dishonest and wouldn't be fair to either one of us. But I told him that I did appreciate his honesty, even if it was a bit brickish. And I appreciated his e-mail.

I can't say we're back to Square One, because we're very much not. Our friendship has taken a new step down this strange road we're travelling, with the way maybe a bit clearer on my side.

Much as I didn't like it, and still don't, and I'm not entirely sure it was needed, maybe the brick finally dislodged a few firmly planted ideas. That's not necessarily a bad thing.

On to the future. And a new table.