Saturday- The Day of Mistakes

As much as I would like to be able to report that the Dreamer is out of my life, that's not the case. For starters, he is ostensibly my fellow employee and semi-boss at my part-time job. Probably not the best position, you might be thinking-and you'd be right. While I've tried to remain generally friendly, he's been pushing for a bit more.

The first indication I had that he was still hoping for something between us was the week before finals. I got a text from him while I was in a night class asking me out for a drink. I turned him down on account of school, but asked why he wanted to get together. He claimed innocent intentions, but the whole situation smacked of an attempted booty call.

Then not long after, in fact the same day as I went to the Bird Man's house, he showed up at my office. I was working alone on filing- I'm generally the only person there on Saturdays, and he knows it. I didn't mind him coming by, though it was a bit uncomfortable. We tried making small talk, neither of us really willing to put forward our own personal happenings since the breakup.

Eventually we ended up with him sitting on a couch in the office while I perched on the arm of it. Being that close to him, all I could think of was how much I missed pressing up against his broad chest. I think he was having thoughts in a similar vein, as he soon offered me a shoulder rub. When it was done, instead of going back to the arm of the couch, I sat down next to him.

As we joked and flirted, I kept staring at the flecks of green in his eyes as they caught the light, and before I knew it, I'd leaned over to kiss him. Almost instantly I was straddling him on the couch as we made out. His hands quickly found their way under my shirt and pulled it over my head. As he lifted my breasts free from my bra, my mind was overcome by his smell and the feel of him pressed against me.

He wrapped his arms around me as he picked me up and laid me on the floor, kneeling above me. Had either of us had condoms, there is no doubt in my mind that we would have had sex. When I told him I didn't have any, he barely acknowledged the statement. He instead pulled doff my pants and took off his own, his eyes filled with lust.

I'll admit to two fleeting thoughts. The first was the temptation to have sex anyway. This thought I immediately discarded. The second was that he might not stop. I reminded myself, though, that for all the problems the Dreamer has exhibited in the past, disregarding my right to say no has never been one of them.

We didn't have sex on the office floor. Instead, I had him sit back on the leather couch while I gave him a blowjob. When it was done, I retreated to the bathroom with my clothes.

All that was going through my mind was how stupid I'd been. Those thoughts were confirmed when I came out and saw him again. All those overwhelming feelings of missing him had vanished entirely. I was simply left feeling annoyed that he'd interrupted my day so dramatically, and though I did my best to hit it, all I wanted was for him to leave.

There is no worse feeling than regret over one's own actions. I was upset with myself, not him, for acting that way. Rather than the self-confident woman who doesn't need him around and is thriving quite nicely without him, I came off as needy and wanting him.

My fears that he would interpret that afternoon as a sign of my continued interest in him were confirmed this week. I was out of town when he texted me to ask if I would go see a movie with him. I turned him down, but the entire situation makes me uneasy. While the Dreamer isn't a bad guy, I feel much better off without him.

Saturday- Kissing a Friend

During the last week of classes, my laptop died. While this would be bad news for most people, for me it was devastating. I had a final exam to take, and semester papers to turn in. Thankfully I'd backed up my hard drive a few days before, but there were still some files I needed.

This is where having a cadre of computer geek friends comes in handy. I had one diagnose the likely problem. From what he could tell, it looks like the motherboard is fried. That's the best bad news I could get, to be honest. It meant my files were okay on my hard drive- but I had no way to get to them.

When my friend the Bird Man heard that, he immediately suggested I bring my laptop over. The plan was for him to put my hard drive in his computer and copy the files over for me. I jumped at the opportunity! So after work on Saturday afternoon, I headed down to his house.

While the computer was the main reason for the trip, there was also a promise of margaritas on his deck. We also ordered pizza, and while we waited for it he performed laptop surgery. The patient came through great, and I was able to get everything I needed (including all my Date Slut files!) We plopped on the couch with our drinks and pizza, and what would happen to be on tv but one of the greatest movies of all time- The Goonies!

At one point, somewhere around two margaritas in, I got the sudden urge to do a somersault. The Bird Man said he didn't know how to do one, so I cleared some space on his living room floor, leaned down, and executed a very drunken somersault. Then I got the Bird Man to do one too! That just egged me on- next, I wanted to do a cartwheel.

There was no way to do a cartwheel in his living room without breaking his stuff (and likely myself) in the process, so we went out on the deck. My cartwheel definitely needs more work.

We went back inside just as Robin Hood: Men in Tights was coming on. We sat on the couch, still giggling from the impromptu gymnastics, when I noticed that he had inched a little closer to me than he'd been before. To see if I was just imagining things, I pointed it out, then scooted over myself.

Now, just to make things clear, I had absolutely no ulterior motives when I went over to the Bird Man's house that day. In fact, I think the most flirting I'd ever done with him was one night over gchat when I was tipsy. But between the giggling, the margaritas, and the computer fixing, I'd definitely turned the corner into new territory. So when he leaned over and kissed me, my immediate response was to tell him, “well that took you long enough!”

I had planned to go home that night so I could be good the next morning and work on some more papers, but I didn't feel like I was in a position to drive, so I asked the Bird Man if I could crash on his couch. He said sure, but that I was also welcome to crash in his bed.

That comes off as making the Bird Man out to be more suave than he really is. He's just your typical friendly computer programmer, who most girls don't look at twice because of the dorky demeanor and nerdy laugh. The statement about sleeping in his bed took a few false starts and some stammering to get out. Still, it was nice. I made it clear to him, though, that I wasn't going to be doing anything other than sleeping.

I still consider the Bird Man to be just a friend, but I don't know what he's thinking about things. I definitely regret kissing him after the fact, that much is sure. I've avoided bringing it up, though. I know I need to have that conversation, and I will...I'm just in no rush. I wish some things, when ignored, would just go away.

Catching Up, or Why Grad School Controls My Life

I apologize for my lack of posting in the last few weeks- I've been swamped with work for the end of my semester. Grad school can be a bitch that way!

First things first, McCool is okay. He's back at home and seems to be recovering well. It looks like it's just a case of him losing the genetic lottery.

I haven't been going out a ton lately, for the same reason I haven't had time to post. I did have another date with the Mad Scientist that ended in him coming back to my place. He was amused that I had “his brand” of condoms. You may call it wishful thinking, but a girl shouldn't be without at least a few Magnums!

The Mad Scientist really is a good kisser. I'd go so far as to say that he's a great kisser. But the actual sex is just...okay. I suppose the enthusiasm with which he approaches it counts for something, but I was seriously worried that we were going to wake up my housemates with the way my bed was squeaking! I think I need to tighten the bolts now.

I think he thought I was joking when I told him he could spend the night, but I had to leave by 7am to get to school. Sadly, I was not. I let him sleep in while I got ready, then woke him up and rushed off. He's called me a couple times since then. It's so strange to be dating a guy who willingly calls! I can't remember any other guys like that.

Also at the beginning of the month, the Diplomat went to Spain and France for a week. That is, he went to Spain, and was supposed to go to France, but his flight was grounded with the ongoing spewing of that-Icelandic-volcano-that-no-one-can-pronounce (hey, it takes about as long to say that as to actually say Eyjafjallajokull.) Because of that, he came home a few days early.

He was originally scheduled to be back Thursday evening, and the plan was for me to go to his house and make him dinner. With the change, though, he was getting back on Tuesday, when I have class. When I got there after, HE had made ME dinner! I couldn't believe it. Of course, that meant I had to repay him with a little something special. I was impressed he could perform after 10 hours on a plane, but perform he did.

The other big thing he did while he was gone was to finally grow the beard I've been bugging him to try. He just seemed like the kind of guy that could pull it off, and I was right. He's gotten nothing but compliments since, and I've of course taken all the credit.

There's much more that has happened, but I am going to have to take some time to try and sort it all into coherent stories. So look forward to a posting binge this week!

Good thoughts needed

Hey everybody-

I found out that McCool had a heart attack on Friday, despite being 32 and otherwise in good health. He's still in the hospital for testing to find out what caused it. If everyone could send some good thoughts and healing vibes his way, I'd really appreciate it (though he'd probably go on a rant about why the universe doesn't work that way.)

Thanks.

Sunday- Booty Call

I had tentative plans with the Blues Man on Sunday for an actual study date. No, that's not a euphemism. We both have a lot of papers to finish before the end of the semester, so we were going to get together to work on them. It feel through, though, and so I found myself sitting in my house Sunday afternoon, growing increasingly horny.

That's how I found myself texting the Diplomat for a booty call. Of course, I actually like spending time with the guy, so it was more like “I want your body. Oh, and let's have dinner, too.” The Diplomat has been over to my house a few times, but only to pick me up. I wanted him to see how I live, as sappy as that may sound. For god's sake, he'd never even seen my bedroom or office!

Well, that was quickly remedied when he came over. I gave him a tour of the house, and somehow it managed to end in the bedroom (imagine that!) It's been so hot here lately that we ended up a sweaty, sticky mess. In other words, it was fantastic.

I'd promised dinner- this was a high-class booty call, after all- so we went downstairs to make it. This was also the first time I'd cooked for him, and he's been doing such fancy meals for me, I was intimidated. I was also almost out of food- I missed the farmer's market on Saturday where I get most of my food for the week, and I hadn't gone to the grocery store to get some other stuff. That meant I had to fall back on one of my “whatever's left in the fridge” staples- homemade flatbread pizzas. Not terribly impressive, but he seemed happy with it, and I thought it tasted good.

By the time we were done eating, it was getting late. We'd gotten horribly sweaty earlier, and the heat from the oven had created a furnace in the kitchen that was cooking us alive. That meant there was only one solution- a cool shower. This wasn't the first time the Diplomat and I have showered together; even so, there's something undeniably sex about seeing a partner naked and glistening with soap and water. That's not to mention how much fun it is to rub against each other when you're all slippery. In other words, I'm a big fan of showering together for reasons other than having someone to wash your back.

Afterwards, we went to my room to get ready for bed. We completely disregarded the fact that we'd just cooled down, and we heated things up again. Then we lay in bed together, touching as much as we could without feeling like we were going to suffocate from the body heat, and started talking.

“Something has changed,” he told me. “Since we went sailing, things have felt different.”

I had to agree. It's not that I think our sailing trip changed things, but that it was about that time that I started looking at him differently. Maybe it had something to do with splitting up from the Dreamer that allowed me to see what else could develop, but it's definitely gone beyond “just hanging out” recently between me and the Diplomat. I told him so (leaving out the part about the Dreamer, of course). Still, I was surprised by his next question.

“So would I be off-base if I referred to you to my friends as my girlfriend?”

If I'm going to be completely honest, I have to admit that I was relieved. I'd considered broaching the topic a couple times in the last week or so, but after the way things went down with the Dreamer, I was afraid to bring it up. I feel like in that case, I had pushed him into more of a relationship than he was wanting, and it all blew up in my face. So this time, it's really exciting that we're on the same page. We talked about what “being serious” meant to us, and what we want out of a relationship. We talked about still dating others, and that both of us are absolutely wanting that. But I was also careful to explain that doing so doesn't mean to me that he and I are any less committed. In other words, I tried to learn from the mistakes I'd made in dating the Dreamer.

The Diplomat had to leave early the next morning, as usual. I had laughed earlier in the week when my roommate remarked upon how rarely my guys stay over past 8am, but it's so true. Still, better that than a guy who never leaves!

Friday- How to Get Mega Brownie Points

This was the weekend of concerts, as I had plans to see another show on Friday night with the Diplomat. The venue was near his work south of town, so in the interest of not backtracking a zillion times to meet up in town, I instead drove to his office and we went together to the show.

Unfortunately, I'd been having stomach pains all day. I don't know what's causing them, but they're becoming more frequent. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they're debilitating, but they're definitely distracting and painful. I didn't want to miss the concert, though, so I sucked it up and went anyway. Plus I was really looking forward to seeing the Diplomat.

We found seats and sat through the first two acts, with the Diplomat continually checking in to see how I was doing. I could tell he was worried about me, but I was really enjoying the show. I stayed seated while everyone else stood for the big act; I was worried about making my stomach worse and ruining the entire night. By the very end I was feeling about 90% better, though, so I jumped around for the encore.

The Diplomat offered to let me drive his car on the way home; it's a manual, and though I learned how to drive one years ago, I'm worried that I'm forgetting. I figured the crush of post-concert traffic was probably not the place to refresh my memory, though. We picked up my car, and we both drove over to his house. Parking was TERRIBLE. He found a spot, then got in my car with me to help me find another. He lives in a part of town that is really old, so it's all parallel parking on the street. I'm not the greatest parallel parker to begin with, and when the only spot I can find is less than a foot longer than my car, I'm screwed. Thankfully, I was able to ask the Diplomat to do it for me. He squeezed in, and made it look so easy!

He had dinner all but ready at home, and whipped together a guacamole to finish it. It was so good. I would seriously not complain about eating guacamole every day. He'd also made more butterscotch mousse for dessert.

We were completely exhausted by the time we were done, and went up to bed. We had nice, sweet, slow sex, and fell asleep tangled up in each other.

I had to work the next morning, so the Diplomat set his alarm for us to wake up. He didn't have to do that- he had nothing to wake up for- but he wanted to get breakfast together in the morning before I left. When the alarm went off, I made some pitiful excuse about not wanting to wake up yet. He told me to go back to sleep, so I did.

An hour later, he woke me back up. “I got breakfast,” he told me. And he did. He'd gone out to a local pastry shop to pick up fresh croissants, and he made cappuccinos. I've had guys do sweet things for me, but letting me sleep in on a Saturday morning and bring me breakfast on a day when he didn't even have to be up definitely takes the cake.

We went back to his room after breakfast, and let's just say I was late to work that morning. There were no toys, no handcuffs, no kink- just good sex. I can't think of a better way to start the weekend than cuddling with him in bed, his hands running through my hair and feeling his warmth. And if he keeps up the breakfast in bed, I foresee it happening a lot.

Thursday- He Blows My...You Know

When I found out a band I like was playing downtown, I decided I was going to go, whether or not I had someone to go with. Just in case, though, I bought an extra ticket. When I offered it up to my friends and guys I'm dating, Mr. Dimple was the first to respond. That meant he won. A few hours later, though, I got an email from the Anarchist saying (half-jokingly) that he couldn't believe I didn't ask him, since I knew he liked that type of music. I told him he should still get his own ticket and then he could hang out with us.

Was that rude of me to Mr. Dimple? Quite possibly. I know some guys who are okay with polyamory in the abstract don't want to be confronted with it in the form of meeting the Other Significant Others. There was no way I was going to un-invite Mr. Dimple, though, and the Anarchist seemed so bummed that he didn't have anyone to go to the show with.

Mr. Dimple came over to my house a few hours before the show. We'd planned to go out to dinner, but hadn't decided where, when he told me that he was in a sort of foul mood and that a “really good hamburger” would help. I knew just the place- the bar/restaurant down the street from me. The food was good, the beer was cold, the waitress was hot- the perfect combination. It was already a great dinner, when the waitress asked if we wanted dessert. As she rattled off the list of possibilities, she ended with the “salted caramel cupcake, optional with or without bacon.”

She must have seen my eyes light up. I looked to Mr. Dimple for support, but he just laughed. “You want one,” she told me. “Salted caramel cupcake with bacon? Yes? Do it. You know you want to.” Now that is the kind of peer pressure I can get behind!

It was absolutely amazing. Sweet and savory and salty and greasy. The problem is, I now know there is such a delicious creature lurking just a few blocks away from my house.

When we got back to my place from dinner, I pointed out that my roommates were both gone. I seduced Mr. Dimple with the words, “I have condoms this time.” That was all it took.

Mr. Dimple likes to say that he hates the stereotype of Irish men having small penises (I'd never heard that as a stereotype, but okay.) I don't have the heart to tell him, though, that he doesn't exactly prove it wrong. Still, it's all in how you use it. The funnest (not funniest!) part is how long he orgasms. It goes on forever! By the end of it, I was giggling with the near absurdity of it. Most of his skill lies in the oral arts, though- and that's not a complaint. Every girl needs a guy who can blow her mind while he blows her....you know.

The show was great. Mr. Dimple and the Anarchist didn't really say anything to each other, but it didn't seem like either felt terribly awkward. I kept in mind that I was on a date with Mr. Dimple, though, so he was the one I showed affection to. My favorite part was when I (slightly drunkenly) tried to adjust my halter top. When I looked up, both of them did the quick eye-shift towards the ceiling. “You can look,” I told them, “you've both already seen them!”

Just like the last time he stayed the night, Mr. Dimple originally needed to get the car back to his girlfriend pretty early the next morning. In the middle of the show, though, she sent him a text. “I can take the train to work tomorrow,” it told him. “But she better be hot.” Now that is love!

He did spend the night, and since we weren't in a hurry when we got up the next morning, Mr. Dimple offered to make me breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast- it's what I usually have, but it tastes even better when you have a cute guy making it for you. When he finally left in the late morning, my roommate pointed out that it was the latest a guy had ever stayed in the morning. The Dreamer used to have to get up ridiculously early for work, and last time Mr. Dimple was over he had to leave early, too. It's kind of nice to get an early start on the day, but sleeping in and having a lazy morning together definitely has its perks, too.