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immature

So I logged on last night and asked Dave about New Years.

Dave: Well, I asked my boss about the days off.

Me: ... and?

Dave: No

Me: =( !!!

Me Thinking: FUCK! ...Oh well. I knew that I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. After all, he is a computer whatchamacallit. I knew that there was a chance he wouldn't be able to go. Maybe he'll be able to come down here sometime in January. I really wanted to see him, though. God, I miss him so much. I didn't realize how much I was looking forward to seeing him. No, scratch that - I knew I wanted to see him. Bad. But if he can't go, he can't go. Crying about it isn't going to help. Damn it, where's the Kleenex?

Dave: Ack! I pressed the wrong button. I meant, "No problem."

Me Thinking: Yay!!!!

And so, we're going! Yay! No, I mean it. YAY! I mailed off the check today. All that's left is to wait for the Big Day. bounce bounce

Of course, I got my credit card bill today. shudder Ok, that's all I'm going to say about that.

My friend Sammy and I went out a few nights ago and had a deep, long conversation about sex. It was one of those conversations that had us rolling around on the floor laughing hysterically more than a few times.

I don't even remember most of it (no, really, Dave! I don't!). All I know is that I had a really good time. I was so bummed out about my lack of money, and she managed to talk me out of my bad mood and into a good one.

In a lot of ways, Sammy and I have grown apart. She's in medical school, hanging out with a completely different set of people from what I hang out with. It's changed her a bit. Or maybe I'm the one that's changed. Whatever. All I know is that we just don't connect like we used to.

When we were in high school, we could talk for hours about anything. As we grew up, we've lost the ability to do that. Now when we talk, I feel like we're on two different planes of existence. Me, struggling to pay my bills and survive. She, trying to decide where she wants to practice medicine. She always wants to go to some trendy, expensive coffee shop to talk. I would prefer someplace where we could talk without having to pay for something.

Of course, now that she's started a new relationship, I feel like she's coming back to where I am. We have something in common again: dealing with our menfolk. Oh, we talked about more than just that. She told me some joke about seratonin that I didn't get, even when she explained it. I told her about something funny that happened at work, but she didn't see the humor in it. So we kept coming back to men and sex.

And now the details of the conversation are starting to come back to me. A lot of what we laughed about was the TFTFoNETL* syndrome of a new relationship. She has been sexually active in the past; her boyfriend has not. He wants to wait until marriage to have sex. She, obviously, doesn't have a problem with sex before marriage, but she respects his wishes. But, they've kissed and done a few relatively minor things, so she's not sure how far he wants to go.

(*TFTLoNETL = Too Far Too Fast or Not Enough Too Late. That dreaded feeling when you're starting a new relationship - how far can I go? How far should I go? Is this OK? Augh, I need a list of places that I can touch and what I shouldn't even think about touching!)

She has TFTFoNETL bad. I told her that she should talk to him, and she said that she did. But his responses didn't help. "Well, I'm not sure but I'll let you know if we start going over the line."

She also described a totally hilarious episode where she was trying to get him to slide his hand under her sweater, but without making it too obvious that that was what she was doing. "I kept wiggling my hips, trying to get his hand to just "slip" up under my sweater, like by accident. Then I suddenly realized that my wiggling might make him think that I was humping his leg, so I stopped." (I'm sure it was much funnier then than it is now.)

Heh. Who said we have to act our age?

Looking Out

______ of the Day

Spinning

"Bizarre Love Triangle" by New Order off their Best of album.

Go Somewhere