Pittsburgh

It was really nice to have me time during the week to prepare for Pittsburgh.  Not to mention I had other work I really needed to zero in on and accomplish without distraction (aka Steven).  Boy one kiss and I want to rip his clothes off.  How. Does. He. Do. That?  And that's exactly what I did.  I got a lot of shit done.

Over the last couple of weeks I've been bringing on interns to help out with stuff like social media and event planning, and still looking for one who can come in during the week for pitching.  It's a super big help and takes some weight off my mind.  I'm the kind of person who loves to be busy, but then, when there's so much I become paralyzed.  I don't know where to start.  At that point I give up and walk away until I get a game plan together.  It's really weird and I'm highly aware of that fact.  In some ways, I'm getting everything I want but the fear gets me.  Who is afraid of success?  E....it's crazy!  

The other good thing about having my time is that I can do all of my secret girly stuff - olive oil treatment for my hair, getting my hair cut and highlighted, painting toe nails and of course, taking care of Aunt Flo for her monthly visit.  She decided to show up Wednesday night.  Great!  I'm going to be cramping and lightheaded for my trip which means I will not be showing up to this pitch at 100%.  More like 75%, if I'm lucky.  

I will admit I was a bit nervous for this trip, but talking with Steven on the phone for 2.5 hours Wednesday night helped me forget about it.  I am a big fan of being able to talk on the phone and feel it's important for couples to be able to express themselves in person, by letter/email or via phone.  For me, I suppose it's all those times I watched couples I admire be far apart for long periods of time due to work or family emergency.  They were forced to have a relationship by phone.  So, if a guy doesn't want to talk on the phone....well, we either have to work on it or not.  It's like hugs.  Hugs can be so incredibly intimate and yet most men are like fuck the hug.  Take off your dress.  Steven is a tremendous hugger!

Thursday arrives and my morning call was rescheduled, so I literally had the whole morning to get my shit together, but.....because of Aunt Flo I was moving slow and in a haze.  Before I knew it I was running late.  Can't take the train.  Now have to catch a $30 cab.  GREAT!  I'm bleeding money.

Once in Pittsburgh, my colleague and I rented a car.  We got in late so it was night time there.  However, there was just enough snow on the ground to reflect what little light there was from cars on the highway to allow me to get a glimpse of the terrain.  Huge bluffs everywhere.  It wasn't long before we came up on the edge of town and I could see how this city had built itself into these bluffs.  It was quite lovely.

Every time I go somewhere new I always wonder what I would be like today if I had grown up and lived in that place.  My colleague is a wealth of knowledge, or as he says "an intellectual trash can," and so he gave me some insight to my query.  Apparently Pittsburgh has it's own language called Pittsburghese.  Honestly, they have their own dialect and language that is specific to the area.  For instance, they don't say Steelers, it's pronounced "Stillers".

I quickly learned that even though I've grown a hard shell living in a big city it might be much thicker should I have grown up in Pittsburgh.  "You may know how to handle yourself in the city but you're still a Midwestern girl with heart," said my colleague.  And he's right.  Just then "You're in for a real treat, E."  Oh goodie!  I love a treat! And with that we entered the Pitt Tunnel. As we exited a mile or so later my breath caught.  My eyes were lit up with what seemed to be a hidden city tucked in among the Allegheny Mountains.  The bridge was beautiful and artistic, the lights of the city were everywhere.  They danced and reflected off the snow and river below.  It was indeed a treat and a mental picture I won't soon forget.

We got to the "hotel", or as I say the stinkiest Quality Inn I've ever been in, located in the university area - I had no idea that Carnegie Mellon and Pittsburgh were literally across the street from one another - and I dropped off my luggage while we waited for my colleague's 79-yr old sister to come pick us up.  She was a real treat.  A firecracker who gives 79 a good name.  She's independent, outliving two husbands, and has a quick wit.  I loved her.  At first I was worried that I "Pricelined" my hotel too far away from downtown (only about 2.5 miles away) but she told us later that downtown shuts down around 6:00p.m.  So my hotel was perfect.  She took us to a little place in the heart of it all on a cute street that was so steep I thought the car would tumble backwards from gravity.  But it didn't.  A couple of martinis and a burger and I was out for the night.

I didn't sleep all that great so the next morning was a struggle.  I managed to iron my clothes the night before, which was wise because I was moving slow....again.  Finally downstairs and into the Panera, located just under the hotel, a bagel and some Earl Grey tea and we were off.  I wasn't that nervous, but I was feeling a bit on edge.  Thankfully I had done my research on the players in the room.  While my colleague went to the bathroom and got some coffee, I walked in to the conference room and introduced myself.  Immediately, I noted the man from Oklahoma City and mentioned I grew up in Kansas.  Turns out that he went to K-State and Hutchinson Community College and had even lived in my hometown.  That really broke the ice and others joined in the conversation until my colleague arrived and we got started.

All in all, I feel the pitch went well.  I knew that we were in the lead going in but I didn't realize just how much they favored our direction until the Q&A began.  It was more like a planning meeting about moving forward than part of the pitch.  We shall see.  I don't want to get my hopes up but I am hopeful we'll get it.  It would be my largest client and bring in some money to help pay down my debts.  However, I have to keep thinking that if I don't get it, I will still be okay.  Everything has been changing in my life lately and it all started with opening myself up to Steven.

Over the years, I lived in my past.  I've had regrets for breaking hearts and such.  Mostly for breaking one heart for a guy who would end up abusing me.  It's as if I felt I didn't deserve God's blessings and so I blocked myself from receiving.  No more!  I am open and ready.....finally.....

xoxo

I've Taken Myself Off the Market

That's right girls and boys, you heard me correctly.  I've taken myself off the market.  This is Part 1 of 2 on how it happened.

Saturday night - ice skating.  While I felt strongly that we needed to get out of the house (and away from trouble) I also really wanted to go ice skating.  I've lived in Chicago 13 years and never been.  That's just stupid!  I am not sure what I was thinking but I definitely didn't consider the fact there might be a line at the rink in Millennium Park.

When considering my outfit I was thinking more cute ski bunny than warmth.  I wore thick black winter leggings, a long pink tank top, black tee, black turtleneck sweater, brown down vest, scarf, hat, knee highs, thick socks and my galoshes, NOT my warm faux Uggs. I will pay for this decision and really should know so much better.  Sunset downtown happens at about 2:00pm as the tall buildings block the sun and the temperature drops dramatically.  Not to mention the fact we're near the lake and the breeze blows directly across the park to and then bounces off the buildings back on to the park.  Brrrrr.  That's not even the half of it!  Typically I always consider this fact but, nope, I wanted to be cute ski bunny not a bundled Michelin Man!  Steven, on the other hand, was warmly dressed in boots, ski pants, a sweatshirt, pullover, scarf and funky knit cap.

When we arrived at the skating rink there was, sure enough, a LINE!  We joined in and it was sssllllooowwww moving.  I started to shiver and Steven wrapped his arms around me - he's a furnace.  Hmmm....maybe I'm not regretting my thoughtlessness.  That's pretty much how we stayed the 30 minutes or so we were in line.  I will say this....it was fun and we just laughed.  We people watched and laughed, making up stories about the each person.  We laughed because he was just being silly.  He was always doing something funny and at times would blow his warm breath on my neck to warm me up.

I can feel the warmth inside the building from where I stood and was anxious to get in. We're. So. Close! Just as we get to the top of the line - they close the rink for the Zamboni and we're left standing for another 30 minutes.  We just started laughing in disbelief that this was our luck. He continued to hold me and block the wind.

FINALLY....they complete the ice surfacing and we are allowed inside the skate rental.  We give up our shoes, grab out skates and plunk down on a bench.  My feet were so cold that I had to rub them back to life before putting them in the boot of the skate, which was considerably warmer than my galoshes.  Not sure if that's because they had recently been worn, but I didn't care.  My toes were tingling with blood and life.  Laced up and smiling we were off the rink.

Now, let me just take this moment to explain that in initial conversations about ice skating, Steven said that he had skated and played hockey.  Then during the drive downtown he says he hasn't ever skated.  I totally busted him. "Which is it, liar?"  "Well, it's been a long time since I've skated."  "So, a more factual statement to cover your ass from already telling me you played hockey would be to say 'I have never ice skated in my adult life.'"  Laughing.  "Yeah, you got me." "Uh huh!"

Once on the rink, we both proceeded with caution.  Steven immediately grabbed my hand and led me around and around the rink until we both got our balance and got accustomed to the motion.  The skates' blades sucked with a capital "S".  The blades were so worn down that they looked more like a half-inch flat piece of steel than a "blade".  We continued going in circles and people were EVERYWHERE!  It was super crowded and there seemed to be bodies littering the rink every place you looked.  I couldn't take my eyes off the ice in front of me in case I failed to notice that there was a group of teenage girls down for the count in front of me and I went flying over them.  Fortunate for me, I had an expert who got his skating groove pretty quickly and was always on the look out to keep me out of trouble, or from causing a major pile up.

At one point we made the turn and this little boy took a tumble.  His father wasn't too stable on the skates and  Steven let go of my hand, made a quick, hard stop, turned around, stopped behind the little boy and picked him up, gently setting him back on his feet.  I just smiled to myself.  Moments later he found me ahead, came to my side, looked at me and reached his hand out.  Wow!  This is a really good dude!  And that wasn't the only person he helped out.

When he wasn't helping to stop potential national incidents between tourist foreign and domestic, he spent his time flirting with me.  As I became more confident, I let go of his hand and skated ahead.  He came up next to me "Hey baby, how are you?"  "Hi. I'm fine," I said slightly cold and ignoring him.  "So, you're one fine lady." "And you're one confident Italian.  Where do you guys learn this stuff?" "It's in our DNA, baby.  Whatcha doin' after this?" "Going home. Alone."  He laughs, comes in close, grabs my waist and whispers "I don't think so!" This kind of flirting went on.  I'd skate off and he'd come up again.  "Dude, you just can't take no for an answer!" "Not when you're so hot.  You're melting the ice."  I roll my eyes and laugh.

At one point, I skated ahead again, but this time I turned to look for him.  I couldn't see him and turned my focus back to making the turn.  I felt him near by and turned to look behind me once more and Steven smiled.  He then came in close and wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling his nose in my neck and saying something.  I don't remember what he said but I was smiling and loving it.  He let go, came to my side, we looked at each other, he looked down and as I did his hand was waiting for me.  I took it and looked back at him.  I am a fucking idiot!  This is pretty damn amazing.  How could I ever think there is something better out there for me than this.  That's when my decision was made.

After an hour or so, it was time to Zamboni the ice again and I was getting a bit tired.  It's quite a work out skating on shitty skates and negotiating through crowds of unstable skaters.  Plus, my right foot was starting to hurt a bit.  We immediately went inside to a warm waiting area next to the bathrooms.  I made my way out of the restroom and walked towards him, smiling.  He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me.  To Steven a public place isn't public so PDA isn't PDA.  It's like we're the only two people there.  "So, what are you doing tomorrow?"  "Well, I was going to go to a Super Bowl party but I'm thinking I may stick to home and get a bunch of stuff done. Why?" "Well.........I was wondering if you'd like to come to a Super Bowl party with me and meet my friends." Seriously?  I haven't told him I've made my choice yet and we haven't done anything intimate to consider the deal sealed.  This is awesome!  "Are you sure you're ready to introduce me to your friends?" He laughs, "Yes!" "Well, okay then."

After some debate, we decided to return our skates and head home.  I was STARVING!  Of course, it turns out that it was 80's night in Millennium Park and that's when all the fun started.  We watched some professional skaters and made sad faces that the fun music was now playing as we were leaving.  Oh well, I was STARVING!  "So, what do you want to do for dinner?" I ask.  "I don't know.  Do you have any thoughts?"  "Well, I was thinking maybe we hit the store and head back to mine.  I have homemade chili I can defrost and it sounds ssssoooo good on a night like this."  "Sounds good."

In the car, he turns the heat on high.  This is kind of a big deal for me as I'm always cold.  As far as Steven is concerned, he would as soon die of sweat than let me freeze.  (Okay, everyone say a collective "Aaaaaawwwww!")  His father calls as we're leaving downtown, "Hi, Dad.....Yeah, I love you too....No I'm not alone.  I've got this hot blonde with the biggest blue eyes sitting next to me.  We've just come from ice skating and heading for a warm dinner....No I'm not cooking."  I laugh out loud. "What?" he looks at me.  "Look you make fantastic reservations and pay and I'll do the cooking." We're both laughing. "Dad...did you hear that?  Yeah....I agree."  I can hear part of the conversation but not all of it and with that he gives me a smile.

After hitting a couple of stores I am starting to get the grouch on.  I. Am. STARVING!   In the stores he kept wanting to browse...."Dude!  I'm hungry.  Let's go!"  "Okay, okay!"  He drops me off with his eyes set on a parking spot that's been plowed in.  I can tell he's salivating at the chance to give it a go with his all-wheel drive love....aka his car.  I lug everything upstairs into my apartment and pull out two containers of turkey chili.  After uncovering them I stick them into the microwave to defrost.  I then race around to do some quick pick up, shoving shit in all kinds of closets (not much unlike our second date when he "invited" himself over). Then grab all the accouterments - cheese, sour cream - and set them on the table next to the wine and two glasses.  He comes in with a big smile revealing his accomplishment of drilling his car into the parking spot.  You're hilarious! 


We eat, watch some TV - Alaska State Troopers, to be exact - and some warm snuggling.  There was some making out and then.....to the bedroom.  You're usual turn of events occurred, but we didn't "seal the deal".   At one point, I stopped him, sat up and said "Just so you know, this means I've made my choice."  He grabs my face with both hands and kisses me.  At that point his shirt came off and GASP! That wasn't JUST back hair I was feeling through his shirt the other night.  It's a fucking SHAG RUG!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME???  It was everywhere and about an inch long.....EVERYWHERE.  Not to mention the Buddha was a little bigger than a little Buddha.  I just laughed to myself and gave him a hug.  In the past, I would have shut this guy down.  No way, no how!  I do NOT do back hair and major Buddha!  But for some reason, I just let it go as his kisses quickly made me realize it wasn't as important as it once was.  Well, these things can be changed.  Soon we fell asleep and his sleep apnea kicked in.  I reached to my bedside table and put in some ear plugs, and I slept really well for a few hours.  Well, until I realized he'd taken over the entire bed and I was left with a 12-inch wide space on the edge.  I waited until I heard him snore and got out of bed like a cat - smoothly, quickly and quietly - grabbed a robe and headed to the couch.  A few hours later, he came out.  "Hey," he whispers.  "Hey."  "Did my snoring keep you awake?"  "No the earplugs were great. You were inching me out of bed, you big HOG!"  Laugh.  "Come back to bed now."

We crawled back in and began talking.  He asked me about my past relationships and I breezed over everyone - who matters - including the abuser.  He didn't seem to flinch, probably because of the fact that I can talk about it today matter of factly and without feeling.  I asked him about his and found out he broke up with his last girlfriend in October.  Since then he'd been on the dating site where he learned that most women were interested in little more than a "free night out".  Aha!  This makes sense now.  On our first date he didn't believe that I was really seriously about going out with him again.  

"Let's go get breakfast." "Uhm, okay."  "I think we should go get Dim Sum in Chinatown." Another thing I've been dying to do and not got around to it. "That sounds great!  Something I've always wanted to do."  "Okay, let me call my friend and get the name and address."  He starts to dial, "Uhm, Steve, it's like 7:30 in the morning." "Oh, yeah, he'll be up.....He dude, it's Steve.  So I'm in bed with this gorgeous woman and want to take her to Dim Sum.  Call me back with the name and address of the place we used to go to."  I laugh.  "I can't believe you just said that to him."  He laughs. "It's no biggie.  He'd do the same to me."  A few minutes later his friend calls and I hear the first part of the conversation: "Hey, thanks for calling me back."  "First of all, you're AN IDIOT!  You don't call ANYONE when you're in bed with a beautiful woman!" Steven laughs, "Yeah, well I want the restaurant info......uhuh....where's that at.....okay, great.  Thanks.....He says it doesn't open until 10a and the best time to go is between 11:45 and 1:00p."  "No way, I'm STARVING!" "You're always starving." "It's because it takes so much energy to deal with you!"  We both laugh.  "Okay, then plan B.  The Original Pancake House downtown."  "I've never been there."  "Gggiiirrrlll, you're missing out."  So that's what we did.

I was grabbing my bag and Steven was putting on his boots when I checked my phone.  Ben had sent me a text around 10:30 the night before (when I was otherwise occupied).  "Dear friends it is with great sadness to say that Chuck passed away this evening..." "Oh my God! Oh my God!"  "What?"  "My friend Chuck passed away."  I look up at Steven, back down at the phone, and then to Steven again.  Within an instant I just burst into tears.  "Oh my gosh!" I turn away and go into the bathroom I am not going to cry in front of this man I just met.  No!  But I do.  I come take a deep breath, wipe my eyes, blow my nose and return to the kitchen. Steven is standing in the doorway and quickly embraces me.  "Okay, let's go."  I think this might have surprised Steven, but I'm a strong hold when it comes to crying.  I just have a hard time doing it in front of boyfriends.

We had a nice time at breakfast though I was quiet.  He dropped me off and said he'd be back at 4:30p to pick me up for the Super Bowl party.  I came in the house, closed the door and had a small sob fest.  I then  laid down, napping for almost two hours.  When I awoke I returned calls and then sobbed until I had nothing left.

Part 2: Super Bowl Party report tomorrow...

xoxo

Steven Opens Up....

You should all be relieved.  I felt SO different with Steven tonight and even better by the end of the night. It was amazingly comfortable and easy.   

He picked me up at 5:40p and, as per usual, I was ready to go and peering out my living room blinds for him.  I watch him park his car and get out wearing that DAMNED fur hat!  Ugh, I hate that thing!  We head to the grocery to pick a few items for the dinner I was making him - Seared Scallops with thin multi-grain spaghetti with tomatoes, garlic, Parmesan and olive oil accompanied by spring greens lightly drizzled in olive oil.  At the store, he followed me, as I walk very fast and determined.  I had several things for this recipe already at home, packed them in a recyclable grocery bag and brought it with.  Produce, fish counter, dairy and wine and head to the self check out.  I ring everything up and the clerk says "Do you have ID."  I turn my back to show her my ID and then carefully place it back in my python card case.  As I turn around, Steven is running his card through the machine to buy the food.  "This was supposed to be my treat."  "I know, but I wanted to." "Okay, that's very nice of you," I whisper "but you didn't have to." He looks at me and smiles.

Back towards the car and Steven grabs my hand again.  He's always, always holding my hand.  We get in the car and make the trek back to his house.  As we drive in the snow we spin and turn - this guy knows how to drive! "I love this car.  All wheel drive rocks!" I laugh at his purely manly enthusiasm as I grip the card door hand thinking it will actually protect me in an impact.  I'm more concerned about the other people on the road then Steven.

As we pull up to his house, the street is clearly a mess and yet he just plows right through it all.  In Chicago there is this long standing tradition that once you've done the hard work of digging yourself out of the snow, you reserve the spot with a broom, folding chair, desks, you know, whatever happens to be handy.  This street is no different.  It's comical, really, until someone steals your stuff and your parking space.  Once inside and stripped of all wet outerwear, I head to the kitchen and begin taking everything out of the bags and positioning them on the table island.  He opens the wine while I take roasted pepper hummus and spread it on a plate, microwave for 20 seconds, drizzle some olive oil, fan multi-grain and flax seed crackers around it and present it to him as The Appetizer.  He loves it and comes around to give me a hug as thanks....with a mini make out.

As I get everything ready his idle hands are all over me and I decide it's time to put them to work, "You'll manage the pasta, because I know you've got that down, and I'll do the rest." "Ok," he says with an attempt at another make out.  "Get to work!!"  I grab the tomatoes and garlic and ask him for a knife.  Boy does he have a knife.  Chef grade.  It sliced through a tomato perfectly.  "This is an amazing knife.  Where did you get it."  "Work." "Oh right because you need to have them for work." Laugh. "No the sales reps come in to sell to the airport restaurants.  I bought a few."  "Oh, yeah, that makes sense." "Hold that thought."  He comes back moments later with another knife, exactly like the one I'm holding except with a black handle.  "Get your grimy hands off my knife!"  uhm...what? "This is for you." "But I have one." "No, this is yours.  I want you to have it." uhm, that's like a $100 knife, dude. "I really can't.  Yes, you will. I'll set it over here for you." "Thank you!"

While I'm chopping I ask:

E:  "So, I don't mind the texting, but why don't you call me.  Not a phone guy?"
S: He smiles. "It's not that I haven't wanted to, I just don't know when you're busy."
E: "Well, if I'm busy I won't answer!"
S: He laughs.  "Yeah, simple as that."
E: "So tell me something about you that I don't know." I look up to the smirk-smile.  "What?" I say "Entertain me while I'm doing this."
S: "Okay, I moved around from school to school growing up.  Later I worked at the Chicago Board of Trade for 10 years from the age of 18-28."
E: "Wow, were you a runner?"
S: "I started off as a runner."
E: "And then you just decided it wasn't fulfilling enough?"
S: "Yeah, I guess that's it. And yyoooouuu??"
E: "Well, I spent most of my life as a performer - dance, theater, singing, and such.  I went to school on scholarship to sing and loved it.  I feel that I'm an instrument for this amazing music.  It wasn't about me, and that came back to hurt me.  I was raised to be far too modest and I lacked all Divaness.  Then I asked myself if I wanted to teach - no - or do I want to wait tables in New York auditioning with 20,000 girls who look and sound like me?  Not really.  Not to say I wasn't unique. I was small, petite with a huge voice that could be heard over a 200-piece orchestra and 150-person choir.  I loved it, still do, but have no regrets about changing my major to journalism.  I simply didn't have the 'I have to do this to live' feeling in my gut.  I do miss it. After I lost my scholarship I worked as a waitress and bartender to help pay my tuition."

Steven comes around the table, takes the knife from my hand and gives me a big hug.  "Ouch!" "What," he stops suddenly.  "My back, from shoveling yesterday.  It's really sore."  "Well, I will give you a massage to make it feel better."  I smile.

I decide to cook all of the scallops so he can eat them for leftovers.  When it was all complete, I prepared each plate and we go into the living room to sit at the big ass table to eat.  He digs in and is loving it.  "This is so good." "I know, and it's so easy, don't you think?"  "Hhmmmm..."  That was pretty much the rest of the meal until I look up and find a huge stuffed giraffe staring at me. " Uhm..." he looks at me. "Giraffe???"  He laughs.  "You like that?  When restoration hardware was having their bankruptcy sales I bought it for my niece and nephew." "So why isn't it at their house?"  "They wanted to keep it here so they have something to play with."  "Ahhh..."

I gotta give it to Steven.  He downed six big scallops, salad and pasta, clearing his plate.  I say, "I'm stuffed.  It would be great to go take a walk."  "Okay, let's." "Seriously?" "Yeah."  So we bundle up in our outwear and head out to walk around the block in the frigid temps.  "You should wear your knit cap it will keep you warmer." "I'm fine," as he puts on ear covers and that stupid fur hat!

It's cold but it feels good. We talk about his neighborhood as I point out interesting architectural and design elements I see.  "It's changed a lot since I moved in," he says. "I used to hear gunshots all the time."  "Didn't that scare you?" "Nah, I'm a better shot." I suddenly wonder where he leaves his gun in the house.  (Sidebar: I did do some more research and he is a Marshall whose assignment is on the ground.) Instead of turning right to make the walk around the block complete he says "Turn left". We turn left and come upon the park.  Steven lives a good three to four miles from the lakefront but he's right by a huge park with lagoon, tennis courts, softball fields and more.  I've seen it in the summer and it's actually quite beautiful.  No doubt the park is empty but the drive through it is clear and we make that our path.  At one point he let's go of my right hand, stops, I keep walking, and then comes up on my left grabbing that hand.  Nice.  A real gentleman always walks on the outside of a lady.  Nice!

We decide to cross the street and venture into the area, which is normally grass, towards the softball field.  There was two feet of snow and we were like moose picking up each leg up and out of the snow.  By the time we stop, we're both winded.  We stand there for a few minutes inhaling the cold air and enjoy the quite beauty and he wraps his arms around me.  We decide to go.

S: "Let's go this way," and he starts to pull me to the right.
E: "Uhm, let's not."  While we were standing there, I saw a guy stumble into the snow towards a tree.
S: "Why?"
E: "Cuz that guy is peeing on the tree over there." Chicago has embraced public urination!
S:  He laughs. "Yeah, okay."

We walk through the softball field to the road, passing the most beautiful snow angels, and he again steps to the outside of me. Nice. About 10 minutes later we're back in the warmth of his house, of which he actually turned the heat up.  Snow is everywhere and we carefully undress and he turns his neck to reveal a crick.  I start to massage it and he leads me into his bedroom.

When he opens the door I see a huge four-banister bed with matching light wood strips linking the tops, perfect for a mosquito net.  It's not a large room, as is very traditional in old Chicago homes, but somehow he's managed to cram his office desk and a huge, tall metal filing cabinet in.  This guy needs a woman's touch!  The mattress, Tempurpedic.  Awesome!  He lays down and I massage his neck and back.  The more I rub his shoulders through the shirt, the more crinkling noise I hear...and feel.  BACK HAIR!!!  Seriously??? Really?  COME ON!!  Sooner or later we switch, I pull off my turtle neck after working up a small sweat massaging his tight back, and lay in my tank top and leggings. He starts to give my back the massage it's been crying for all day, except he can't rally stay focused.  He continues to lean down to kiss my neck and shoulders.  "Hey, I'm serious, I need this!" It was a generous massage lasting about 15 minutes.  Afterwards we lie on the bed, making out and talking.

S: "So what is your hesitation?"
E: "What? With sex?"
S: "Yeah"
E: "I promised myself I would do it right this time, that I wouldn't jump into anything."
S: "Why?"
E: "Because that's what I've done in the past and the relationships didn't have substance."
S: "What were they?"
E: "I dressed up well for parties and dinners out; I looked good for their friends.  We never talked and they never seemed interested in me."
S: "Oh." Make out.
S: "Tell me about your first boyfriend."
E: I laugh. "My first boyfriend lasted about 10 minutes.  He was my first kiss." We played around as I imitated the reenactment of my first kiss.  Hilarious.  I was actually in fifth grade..... "Yours?"
S: "It was ninth grade and I started dating this girl.  My brother met her and said 'dude, you can do so much better than that!', but all of my friends had girlfriends and I wanted one too.  So I got one."  We laugh.  "So tell me about your last relationship."
E: "He was the first in a long time to treat me with respect.  He was super sweet to me, wanted to court me and I felt I deserved it.  Then he dropped a bombshell that I just couldn't help him with."
S: "What do you mean"
E: "He told me he was in recovery"
S: "For what?"
E: "Alcohol mostly but I often wondered if there was something harder.  It was sad. He had just recently gotten out of rehab for the second time." I didn't go into more details.
S: "Oh."
E: "Are you uncomfortable that I am not jumping into sex with you?"
S: "Well, no, but for me it defines everything."
E: "What do you mean? That it means that we're officially together?"
S: "Yes." He says with a smile.  So, you're eager to take me off the market??  LOL  He kisses me and the looks linger. He softly touches my face. "Do you still have your online profile up?"
E: "Yes, but I haven't checked it in awhile. Do you?"
S: "No. I took it down."
E: "Why?"
S: "Because I really like you."
E: "So what did you think the other night when I didn't want to come into the bedroom with you?"
S: "I just thought you hadn't made your choice yet."
Silence.
E: "I suppose I'm just looking for someone who will be patient with me. Who will make me laugh."
S: "I can do that." And with those words he rolled me on to my back, lifted up my tank top and gave me a huge zurburt on the stomach.  I laughed and laughed.
E: I catch my breath as he lies down next to me. "I like that you asked and we talked about this.  Keep talking to me. Deal?"
S: "Always."

The conversation and making out continued until I finally drew the line and said I have to go home.

I felt exponentially better knowing where his head was at, and I'm sure he feels better as well.  I think it was feeling the pressure of sex that had me feeling like I was out of control; as if I'd lose him if I didn't, and I don't like that.  We've only been on FOUR dates! I just need to wrap my head around all of this.  This is what I want, I just have to go step-by-step for myself.

He's right, I haven't made my decision yet because of fear and what not, but I'm closer.  Definitely closer.  But I do have to say, there's nothing like letting him work for it a little bit.  He doesn't need to know that I haven't dated anyone else.  There's no harm.  No answer is not lying.  There has to be a reason why none of those other guys really go into contact and asked me out.  I believe that God works in mysterious ways. 


Next date: Saturday late afternoon.  Ice skating and hot chocolate - we really have to get out of the house and out to do something! LOL  Plus, I might not be able to see him until I get back from the new business pitch in Pittsburgh next Friday.  Ugh...Valentine's Day...

xoxo

Frozen Tundra, Frozen Heart

If you've ever wondered what it's like to be an igloo, come to Chicago.  It's cold and there's WAY too much snow - although pretty, I had to shovel and so it loses its novelty quickly.  Even typing, I can feel every single muscle in my hands and arms. Let's not talk about my back.  However, I want to lose a 10-er and I certainly dumped some cals yesterday.

Due to the storm arriving Tuesday, Steven was put on mandatory overtime and wasn't going to leave work until Thursday, so we rescheduled our plans.  That is until he texted me at 4:30 saying they had too many people on and he was coming home, would I like to get together.  Dude, major snow storm has already started.  We're talking BLIZZARD!  Are you nuts? I responded that it looked like traffic and roads were getting bad and it would be better to wait.  He seemed bummed.  It was like he had no idea that the third worst storm on record was hitting us that night!  Then again, if a man wants something he'll cross rivers and dig through snow drifts the size of The Rockies to reach it. 

Sure enough, within two hours I was downstairs shoveling - four inches.  My neighbor was out and offered to help.  Three hours later I go back out and my previous efforts had been completely blown away.  It was as if I hadn't been out there at all.  So, I shoveled again.  By morning, there was absolutely no sign of my hard work and this is what I awoke to:

Yep, that's a car, kids.  Right in front of my house.  Fortunately, I was smart enough to make a deal with the two boys downstairs to help with the shoveling.  Boy One started about 9:00a and made his way through about two feet of snow in a four foot path on the sidewalk before giving up.  While I appreciate his efforts, the foot of snow on our landing was shoveled into the gangway on the side of the house (a walk way between houses for people to get to their doors in a multi-flat building.  Not to mention where our mailboxes are) making the drift there about four feet.  Great.  I went out a little later and started from the back of the house where the drifts were nearly three feet and shoveled out the gangway.  It was actually quite pretty and I hated to disrupt the artwork created by the wind, but it had to be done.  The boys hollered at me to come in for coffee when I was finished.  I did and we took a break.  A break which included me showing the two of them how to use their sewing machine.  Twenty-something straight boys who sew.  Well, you have to figure one's a chef and the other a musician.  Creative types who smoke pot and aren't afraid to admit they sew.  Nice.

Finally, boy neighbor two and his girlfriend bundled up in snow gear and we all went back out to finish the job.  Bot Two took the incredibly deep gangway and stairs and us two gals took turns on another shovel.  Sooner or later I decide to take a look at the streets.  Imagine a drift down the middle that's about 18 inches...no doubt three young girls wanted to hit the home store by me and instead of taking the cleared main streets decided they would take a shortcut, which got them stuck about 50 feet into their journey.  I rallied the other two and we brought our shovels.  After a lot of team work from neighbors and the school caretaker in his little John Deere with shovel attached to the front, we finally managed to get them out.  We'd been out for three hours.  Time. To. Go. Home.

Not so fast.  Someone else needs help and as we start to dig them out, a guy comes up and asks if we need an extra shovel.  Yes!  His name is Aaron a 20-something who lives up the street.  Nice guy and a huge help.  Seems Boys One and Two took a shine to the kid and they were already talking about getting together to hang out and do some weed.  Naturally!

It's amazing how we forget everyday that we, as people, are more alike than we are different.  It's only in times like these, or tragedy - when we share an instant common bond - that we actually reach out to help one another.  I wonder how many of us bother to check on our neighbors at times like this?

We walk back to our house and if shoveling isn't exercise, walking through the snow alone will get the heart pumping.  Chicago is flat but at this moment it has its own set of hills and valleys.  Almost like hiking in sand.  The kind of sand that fails to support your weight and often surprises you as a foot sinks, sometimes two feet, to the bottom - a combination of walking through shallow water and walking up a midget-sized "quick" sand dune over and over again.  It's quite the workout. The exhaustion hits me and I skip the invitation from Boys One and Two to come in for cider with brandy, although incredibly tempting.  Once inside I peel off my wet clothes pulled on the warmest, thickest flannel pants ever made, two shirts and a sweater, wool socks and snuggle under my down comforter in front of the TV for a DVR marathon.  I didn't even have the energy for a hot bath, which I should have taken to relief the muscle pain I would feel the next day.  I was so exhausted I fell asleep.

When I woke up this morning, it was if my body aged by 40 years.  The back, butt and shoulders we sore.  It's as if someone had placed thick, tight rubber bands throughout my torso to keep me from twisting and bending.  It took a good 10 minutes to even get out of my very warm bed.  Once vertical I tried to do some stretching to loosen things up.  No luck.  Into the hot shower.  It was helpful but I could still feel the tightness as I stand, balanced on one foot to pull on my faux Uggs.  I do this all of the time and I couldn't seem to get any muscle to work.  I try again and finally give up, moving to the chair to sit.  Even then pulling my leg up and into my chest was an impossible feat.

Despite the feeling that I'd rather go back to my cozy bed on this barely 5 degree morning, I was quite excited.  You're thinking "date night" but that isn't actually it. Today, I interviewed interns to help with some of my business tasks that simply just take too much time.  I'd like to grow and focus on cultivating new business, but there's just too much on my plate.  If you can't afford to hire someone then grow your business on the backs of interns.  Two of three are going to be great and I'm excited for them to start next week.  The third, while working on a masters degree, doesn't have any experience in my particular field of marketing, and, unfortunately, I just don't have the time to teach her.  I want people with some experience who want to grow that experience.  While helping me, I can help them develop the skills they need to prepare them for a paying job, to help them stand out - but secretly I really hope they all stay for the rest of their lives.  Hey, if they help me grow my business then I just might be able to pay them.  

As far as tonight with Steven goes, the self-sabotage has started.  I've already named every reason why it won't work out with him.  Being aware is the first step to changing the behavior, and I am....trying.  I'm just plain scared.  It's ironic, really, because this is something I really want in my life. In fear, I put the brakes on.  I'm kind of like a guy who needs to step back, internalize things and then revisit the problem with a solution.

When I think about moving forward with him I get a knot in my stomach that requires a few glasses of wine.  Is it self-sabotage or my intuition speaking?  I can't tell.  I start questioning whether I will hurt him in the end, but then I remember that love is a gamble.  There's a real chance that someone can and will always get hurt.  I really don't want to rush into anything with him and I've begun to pull away a small bit.  I wait longer to respond to his text messages and I'm keeping myself very focused on me and the business. Cuz let's face it, once he finds out my reality he may just change his perception of me and walk away.  Any man might.  So, I need to stay focused on improving my reality and it starts with me.

I suppose it doesn't help that the dating service called and wants me to come in next Tuesday before setting me up with someone.  The curiosity...I know!  Shut up! It's hard when this has been you're love life for 10 years.  Someone is always coming and going and I'm always forced to look ahead to something else.

Kisses aren't contracts.  Kisses aren't contracts.....Let go of the guilt, E!

Details tomorrow....stay warm, everybody!

xoxo

Steven: Date Three

Someone's nose must have been itching because in moments after posting yesterday, Steven texted:

S: "Are you driving or do you want me to pick you up"
E: "I don't have a car but happy to cab it.  What time?
S: I'll pick you up. 6pm."
E: "Okie Dokie"

What? No "Hi gorgeous"?  Hmmmm....come on and keep the flirting going, dude!

My outfit was laid out on my bed, I showered at 2:30 and then chilled with Meow Mix to paint my nails with a glass of wine.  This is painstaking as some of my polish, I can never remember which, gets bubbly.  Fuck!  Do over! And...Do over!  Finally, acceptable, but not perfect.  I can live with it.

It's Sunday and that means I call my Mom and Dad.  Because I'm meeting Steven at 6:00 (my regular call time) I call her at 4:00.  "Hi!" "Hi, yourself." "What are you doing?" "I'm watching Dr. Zhivago.  I've never seen it."  "Okay, well call me back but I have a date at 6:00 so if not we can talk tomorrow."  "Okay, Love you!" "Love you!" I go back to watching TV and fanning my nails as if I'm desperate to lift myself off the couch by that motion alone.

At 5: 15 I slowly get ready and Steven shows up at my house right on time.  I know this because I am totally ready and see him through the living room blinds walk up to the house.  Wait for him to knock.  Waiting, toe tapping.   Come on and just knock on the door. I can even hear him coughing on the front stoop. The phone rings. "Hi!" "Hi! I'm downstairs."  "Okay, I'll be two shakes."

I walk downstairs and he's at the door with this smirk-smile he does.  It's like he knows something know one else does, and yet it must be funny because it's not devilish, but just....happy.  A quick kiss hello, he grabs my hand, helps me down the stairs and into the car.  We're off....to his place.

I've come to realize over the years that you can never anticipate what a guy's place will be like.  The one's who look so put together can live in a complete pigsty and those who you think are a total mess are the complete opposite at home.  Still, you do get those who are a mess all around and those men who are so totally meticulous about their home you're afraid to touch anything.  It's like being in a museum and you're ready for them to say "I don't use dishes.  They get dirty, so we'll just eat off the freshly polished floors."  With Steven, I had no idea what to expect but figured it wasn't going to be too bad. 

Steven doesn't actually live that far from me, but it was certainly a neighborhood I haven't been in before - remember when I said in a few minutes you can be in a completely different neighborhood?  Even if you've lived in the city 20 years.  It's true.  He owns a three-flat brownstone that he purchased in the late 90's and did a complete gut rehab.  He rents out the second floor to a gal with two dogs, who bark non-stop until she gets home.  Smells like separation anxiety and possibly lack of exercise.  Anywhoo...I'm not here to be the Dog Whisperer apprentice, which I'd actually enjoy, come to think of it.  The third floor is vacant, at the moment.

We park outside the house.  I get out of the car and he comes around to meet me, grabbing my hand and helping we walk carefully across the snow laden grass patch (this is what we call a yard in Chicago) to the front gate, which he gingerly unlocks and then helps me up the cement stairs - original to the 100 year-old house.  There's some ice and he immediately grabs a scoop of de-icer and puts it down.  Brownstones that are broken up into flats typically have one main door that immediate leads to two doors - one for the main floor apartment and one to the second floor.  The third floor entrance is normally off the back of the house.  His door is on the right and we walk in.  Immediately in front of me is a beautiful, large umbrella holder.  A large wall mirror to my left.  I turn to look past the open wall banister into his living room with large, but comfortable looking furniture, two almost tragic pieces of artwork, a large, wooden square coffee table just about a foot tall, and....the projector.  This is a strange new, or at least new to me, trend for boys with toys.  They might have a television and a projector or just the projector.  In this case, there's only the projector, right in front of me, pointing at what would be a beautiful bay of windows but is actually covered by a large retractable screen.  Boys and their toys.  It's hilarious.

I follow Steven to the left through the open floor plan into the dining room.  Here is where he keeps most of his travel treasures from South America.  They adorn the fireplace mantel and above them is a gorgeous oil painting of a long dark-haired woman in a red skirt and white top off her left shoulder.  She is sitting in a chair shyly looking out to us.  She's like a Latino Mona Lisa.  I can't take my eyes off of her. In the center of the room is a large, and I actually mean, HUGE wood table surrounded by an assortment of antique chairs - two leather studded chairs at each end.  It must have taken an army of strapping (mmm..yum) men to move this monstrosity in to the house.  At both ends, the table has a beautiful ceramic tile inlay. Two extra chairs sit in the corners.  This thing is so huge I don't how anyone would get around the table to get those chairs.  It's beautiful but just too big for the space.  As I turn left to follow him down the hallway I notice a wood built in full of his travel treasures - masks made of porcelain and wood, textiles, books and little knick knacks.  I walk down the hall passed the bathroom - big and gorgeous with white subway tile and this ornate cabinet and sink.  I'll check more of that out later.  More artwork in the hallway.

I see the kitchen ahead of me and walk in.  The floors throughout the space are all original.  As I look right the cream, ornate, Mediterranean-inspired cabinets sweep around two walls with the sink in the corner.  Sweeping around further at the end of the cabinets are two rustic wood shelving units with all kinds of unique foods. Passed the door to the back and the refrigerator stands alone. In the center of the room is an old table with two large pieces of granite sitting on top (these granite pieces also appear on the counter tops, which are not granite themselves.

When I walk in Steven is in the process of getting everything ready for dinner.  He pulls out a box of noodles, a huge plastic jug of Ragu, a large jar of minced garlic and a bag of Swiss cheese slices.  No kidding.  I can't make this shit up.  This is dinner.  He turns to put water in the pan and reaches out for me.  I succumb and he kisses me.  Both of us forget about the water for a moment until I pull away.  Normally in this situation I would be uncomfortable and pull away immediately, but I didn't.  I've resolved to let love in and there's only one way, to allow it to happen; to give it a shot.  He turns to pull the pot out from under the water and put it on the burner.  In the meantime, I walk to a spot by the table.  After turning on the burner he comes to me, opens his arms and we just...hug.  It seemed like eternity and yet it ended too quickly.  He pulls away slightly and kisses me again this time with much more diligence.  He steps away to stir the noodles.

Steven isn't really a chatty guy.  He's kind of quiet and walks around with his smirky-smile, perfectly content in his own world. So I begin to ask him questions about his family.  "My mom lives in Puerto Rico, so we have someplace to visit!" She moved shortly after her divorce to his father.  He is the middle child of three boys and then a half brother.  His youngest brother moved to Puerto Rico with his mother.  Two live close by and one in Miami.  "Have you been to Miami?  We have a place to stay when we go."  Hmmm...making future plans....hmmmm.  The saddest part is that when his mother comes to visit she chooses to spend time with his brother and his kids.  I can tell it kind of bothers him.  "Do you want to watch a movie?"  "Sure."  He leads me back to the living room and pulls out three large plastic trays of movies. Two more remain on the floor next to the couch.  It's either the "Tales of Despereaux", "Battlestar Galactica" or "Get Smart".  I pick the latter.

I walk back into the kitchen and ask him more about his house.  "Yeah, and it's great to have a roommate to help out."  What? Uhm...roommate was never mentioned before.  "Well, it's nice of him to let you have the place to yourself tonight." Cough. "Uhm yeah."

The noodles are done and he pulls out two colorful plates out of the cabinet and sets them on the table.  After draining, he grabs one plate and spoons some spaghetti on to it, sets it down in front of me and instructs me to scoop my preferred amount of garlic on the noodles.  He then takes the big jug of Ragu and pours it on until I say stop.  Next he takes two slices of Swiss cheese, places it on top of the concoction, covers it and puts it in the microwave.  I stand there watching in some disbelief.  He repeats the pattern for himself. While I'm waiting for his to cook, I turn to the refrigerator to read the article posted with magnets.  Steven walks up behind me, wraps his arms around my waist and snuggles his nose into my neck. "Mmmmm...you smell good." The microwave dings and he turns away to pull his plate out.  Each plate goes on a tray with fork, a glass of water for me and homemade apple juice for him.  We walk back to the living room and place the trays on the coffee table.  He puts in the movie, turns on the projector, hits the lights and we sit to eat. I'm not going to lie, I was a little skeptical, I mean, are you serious?  I dated a guy once who said he'd cook for me, but didn't have a clue.  It took two months before I realized he was getting take out from a variety of restaurants.

Trying to be nice. "Not bad.  The Swiss cheese gives it a different flavor."  "See! I knew you'd love it."  "Well, love is a bit much.  Let's see if I throw it up or not.  Thanks.  He grabs my head and presses our faces together. He laughs.  When Steven laughs he leans his head back, opens his mouth and the sound rises from his Buddha belly.  A little like Santa but not has full or long.

We finish dinner and I head to the bathroom.  Once in the bathroom my breath is slightly taken away.  he rehabbed this?  It's beautiful.  I look at the toilet and go to grab some TP, cuz I always do that prior to squatting, cuz you never know, and on top of the toilet is a curling iron.  Hmmmm... I finish my business and go to wash my hands.  Right there on the shelf is a wooden leaf and in it lay a cool turquoise ring. I try it on and it fits.  A female's ring.  Hmmmm....is his roommate a woman?  Hmmm....why didn't he say something?  Whatever.

I return to the couch, kick off my shoes and grab the blanket to warm my bare feet - his apartment is chill-ill-lee.  He asks if I want to lay down, I say yes, and he whisks away the pillows from the couch selecting two to position behind our heads.  He maneuvers himself behind me to be on the inside and pulls me, hugging the blanket ,back to lay in the nook of his arm.  Of course, he now takes this moment to put his hand on my stomach - please don't feel the bulge.  He reaches up to my face, grabs my chin and pulls my face to his for a serious make out session.  I can tell he's, cough, enjoying it because he moans and the tongue is set free.  I just don't know what to do with that thing!  The majority of the kissing is good but this animal must. be. tamed!  "Mmmm...you're a good kisser.  I just realized that."  Yes, cuz I don't have a wild animal in my mouth.  We stop to take a breath and all of a sudden he's got heartburn and gas (burping not the farting kind like me).  We go back to watching the movie and when it seems to have resolved itself he comes in for more.  It continues this way for awhile.

Half way through the movie he apparently decides he wants more and we just start making out.  Some light petting and he's on top of me.  "We should move to the bedroom." Dingalingaling.  Warning Epiphany.  Warning!  "Actually, would you be upset if I..." "No!" I smile. "Good, it's just that I'm enjoying the pace that we're at."  "Totally."  We continue to make out and he sits up, pulls me on top of him so that I'm actually sitting on his lap.  All of a sudden there's a key in the dead bolt and we both jump.  His legs move out from under me to a seated position on the couch.  My legs are still behind his back and I'm covered with the blanket.  His arm rests on the back of the couch.  It's his roommate.

She (yes I said SHE) is a cute blonde in her 40's.  He makes introductions and I'm kind of confused why he didn't correct me earlier and say that the he was actually a she.  Did he think I would be jealous or something?  To me this is not a big deal, I had a male roommate at one point but he was always with his girlfriend and almost never home.  I still remember when we had a huge spider (E does NOT do spiders) on the vaulted ceiling of our apartment.  Both of us were standing on the couch screaming like girls.  Here I thought I would have a man around the house and I ended up with an eight year-old girl.  Finally we called some real men  to come dispose of the nuisance. I still laugh about that moment. 

The roommate walks back into her room and closes the door.  I look at Steven and laugh.  I can't stop.  "What?"  Trying to catch my breath, "Oh. My. Gosh.  I suddenly felt like I was 17 again!"  We both laugh and laugh.  With her settled in we continued watching the movie.  When it was over, Steven grabbed my feet under the blanket and I laid back on the couch.  He is a terrific masseuse!  Whoops!  I just let a little toot or two come out.  Damn gassy ass!  Well now he knows I fart. I try to cover it by asking questions and we talk.  We talk about scary dreams, my Nuclear bomb, and his repetitive dream from childhood that came every night.  He described how after some time he was actually able to start controlling the dream and change it.  To me it sounded like a video game and I wondered if he was joking, but he wasn't.  It apparently went on every night for years. We talked more about his family, his Mom moving, and the rest of it.  Steven is quite shy when he opens up and talks about himself.  There's a clear discomfort there but it was so nice to learn more about him.

Soon there after we were laying together again, this time E was crammed into the nook between the cushion and the back of the couch.  Very cozy and warm!  His heartburn was still acting up (and thank goodness because I think he wouldn't have stopped kissing and touching me!  It was the perfectly timed, required time out.)  However, at one point, after massaging my head (LOVE!), he began running his fingers down my neck.  My eyes were closed and I heard the direction of his breathing change to look at me.  The way I was laying compressed the little girls (with the help of a padded bra) into real cleave!  His fingers ran lower and lower down the open v-neck of my tee and I thought I was going to lose it!  I can feel my will power crumbling under his touch.  I think screw it (pun intended) and suddenly I regain sanity.  This is not how I want it to be.  It's great that we have such hot sexual chemistry, but I don't want this to be all there is. Plus, E, you're a little desperate for sex, admit it!  Finally, I stopped him and we gathered ourselves, breath included, so he could take me home.  He cupped my face with one hand and said "Such a beautiful girl. I like you...a lot."  "You're growing on me," I reply with a laugh.  Then again, is he confusing desire with like?  It's a guy thing.  Men fall in love with their penis, women with their mind (thanks again for that information, Patty Stinger!).

Finally we peel ourselves apart. He sits on the couch and reaches for my hand to pull me out of the abyss.  I stand to get my shoes and he grabs my hips, pulls me towards him and rests his head on my stomach.  He then raises my shirt to kiss my stomach.  Nnnnoooo not the bbbulllgeee!  I stop him and pull him up.  He turns on the light so I can find my shoes.  We put the couch back together and get ready to leave. 

He grabs my hand as we walk to the car, opens the door for me to get in, I reach down to hit the door lock (so "Singles") and he gets in.  Within a few minutes we're outside my house and he asks in haste and excitement, as if he's suddenly remembered he hasn't asked me to get together again, "Hey, when am I going to see you again?"  Think strategically, E.  "I think Tuesday or Thursday.  Let me check when I get in and I'll text you."  "Ok".

Why, you ask, do I need to be strategic about this?  Well, for one good reason it's getting a bit heated and I need to tame that by not creating opportunities for it to happen too soon.  This means, NOT getting together with him Thursday-Saturday nights because he has three days off, which could mean late night dates and trouble.  I am not in a rush.  In the past, I would have ripped off his and my clothes and had sex too quickly.  Those relationships never had any depth.  We never just talked and got to know one another.  I want this to be different.  I want to find someone who is willing to wait, to have fun getting to know one another. So, Tuesday.  Tuesday is good.  We both have to work the next day, he at 5:30a. 

In the meantime, none of the other guys have contacted me except for The Wet Rag who texted the other night.  Unfortunately, a response must be given.  My standard one is "Just want to let you know that I've met some people and moving forward to see how things go there.  Take care."  Gentle but not devastating like "I'm sorry you're about as exciting as a wet rag.  I'm not interested."  There is Don who is a hottie and I think I'm going to text and ask when we're getting together.  I'm just going for it.

xoxo

Bad Dream: Change is Coming

Last week I saw a friend who I've worked with and known for 11 years.  We met because she worked for my client and became super fast friends often sharing our dating war stories.  She is now in her 40's and still drop dead gorgeous - when I saw her this summer (the first time in years) I wanted to throw up!  She has dated and dated and dated over the years, and why wouldn't she: she's GORGEOUS.  The funny thing is that she could never settle down with a guy.  Well, until she recently posted on Facebook that she's engaged.  Yep!

So, when I saw her last week I was all over the ring and questions about the guy.  "You know, it's weird," she said.  "I was very happy in my life.  I had good jobs, own my own condo, drive a great car, have amazing friends and the cutest dog...I was very happy.  He came to me on my terms and has made me want to settle down."

E: "The thing I have realized is that I'm afraid of getting into a relationship like this because I'm scared of making the wrong choice."
F: "Yeah, I was there too.  It's different when someone really wants to be with you they are always there, proving it."
E: "True, but I immediately see it as suffocation.  The guy does everything he should, just like a movie, and yet I see it as negative, not positive affection, or even that he's working to get my attention."
F: "Yep, sweetie, it's time gals like you and I realize and let go or we will be alone for life."
E: "Wise words, sister, wise words."

And with a quick hug she was off to pack for a trip to warm Mexico the next day with her fiance.

I got to thinking about it a little bit more this week, and I really am proud of myself for being part of something with Steven.  Even if it's just to see if there is substance there.  If I want to fall in love, or have someone fall in love with me, I at least have to give them a chance.  Damn fear!  Now I'm at this place where I've been alone for so long that it's what I know; it's safe.  I've dated men (subconsciously) who were emotionally and geographically unavailable because I knew it wouldn't go anywhere.  Problem is, that with the emotionally unavailable ones, there really are few warning signs.  It's not until they tell you they just got out of rehab on your fourth date that you see the RED flag.  Yet, ironically, I want to be in a relationship.  Go figure! 

Moreover, I am having these feelings that tell me to go out with others, try a few other boys on for size, and that could be the fear or "this is your last chance" talking.  Since I've rarely been in this place over the last 10 years, I do have this strange, retarded way of thinking that suggests I should only be dating one at a time.  This feeling of guilt that I'm going to be the one to do the hurting is somewhat overwhelming, and frankly it's stressing me out.  All of it.  However, my friends have sage advise on this:

"Date, date, date!  Dogs don't chase parked cars"

"Have fun...kisses aren't contracts"

I do know something big is about to happen.  Last night I dreamt that I was running and jumping into a revine to protect myself from a nuclear bomb blast.  I know, c-r-a-z-y.  You're thinking "what is going on?"  I have to admit that in my life when something is about to change for me I have these frightening, near-death dreams, which I can only explain as a warning that part of me is about to die and blossom into something new, or BIG changes are coming my way.  Usually it's tornados (hey, I'm a Kansas girl) or being shot at.  When I'm being chased and shot at I know that something needs to change but I am denying it from happening; hence running away from it.  Having an understanding keeps me alert and helps me realize when I need to let go.  To give up and let God! So you can imagine how I felt when I gasped and sat up in bed, sweating.  Nuclear bomb means something pri-tteee serious, me thinks.  What?  Well, we'll all find out together.

Of course I had to search for the meaning and here's what I got:

"To dream of a nuclear bomb, suggests feelings of helplessness and loss of control. You are experiencing some strong hostility and rage, where it is nearly destructive. Important changes are about to occur. You may also be expressing a desire to wipe out some aspect of yourself. Alternatively, the nuclear bomb serves as an indication that something crucial and precious to you has ended."

Precious...like my singledom?  Or maybe now I may believe that the process of deciding to move is really about letting go of everything I've held on so tightly to so I can actually grow and receive more blessings....

Why is it that when you answer questions others are created?

In the meantime, there are about 12 pairs of jeans in stack in my closet.  None that fit, so I'm preparing myself for an outing of finding the perfect pair to fit my new, wider butt and tummy, for tonight's date with Steven.  It's like boys, you have to try on a lot of them before you find the right one. 

xoxo

Dating News Flash I

After several conversations with friends, I am reaffirmed about the oddity of Steven's desire to play 20 questions with me rather than just be straight about what he does.  And, it's not really about what he does for a living, it's about honesty.  As the BFF said "I don't care what your job is for a living.  You can bag groceries, but own it and be proud of it."  Aaaaaa-greed!

Nonetheless, I am giving him the benefit of the doubt (including assuming the fact that he paid our bill, although I just feel strongly it didn't happen) and have set a date for dinner on Thursday night.

In the meantime, I've talked to two other guys I met online.  John...the conversation was painful.  He was about as exciting as a wet rag.  I think I spoke a total of three minutes on a half hour call.  I finally told him my Mom was calling on the other line and had to go (I'm sure my Mom won't mind that I used her as an excuse!)

Rich...we've been emailing online for some time.  He is actually one of the first guys I met on the site.  Seemed a little cocky...yeah, he's one of those guys who put up a photo with no shirt on. Typically I would just scoff at him and move on to the next, but in the interest of trying not to judge people without knowing them, I read his profile and his justification made sense -

"You may laugh at me because I put up a picture without a shirt, but I'm doing this to prove that I am who I say I am."

Okay, fine, cuz I can tell you how many people I've met in person and thought "that picture on your profile is about 15 years old.  You said you were 35 not 55, weren't balding and 80 pounds overweight."  Again - be who you are.  Own who you are or change it.  Plus, he's attractive and the rest of his profile seemed honest and sincere.  After the conversation with John, which about put me to sleep, I called Rich and we had a great convo for over an hour.  If he appears cocky on his profile, I definitely didn't get that vibe speaking to him.  He just sounded like a good dude.  I eventually admitted it was my bed time (I don't like games, but you have to play a little.  In this case, I always try to get off the phone first), and hoped we could catch up again by phone or in person.  "In person would be great."  "Awesome, I'm available this week, so why don't you figure something out and let me know." (Again, I always make them plan the date - hey, they can do some work to impress me!)

Yesterday I returned the call from the local dating agency and told Annie* that the timing was perfect and I am available.  "Great. We'll determine if you're a match for this person and then get back to you.  In the meantime, you might want to come back in for a face-to-face since it's been a couple of years."  "Of course! let me know when."

I have to admit something: I often feel bad dating someone I know is interested in me and then dating other people.  It's like I'm cheating or doing something behind their backs, when I know that this simply isn't true until sex and mutual monogamy is confirmed.  It's weird, I KNOW, and I have no answer as to why I feel this way other than the fact that I have been cheated on quite a bit in past relationships.  It's the reason that I probably do two things:
1. Ensures that I won't cheat.  Ironically, I have NEVER cheated, but no one needs to feel the hurt I have. I think it's less about cheating and more about hurting someone.
2. More than likely is the main culprit in my meeting men, having a great time and then rushing to see what else is out there before settling down with that person.  I want to make sure that I won't be more attracted to someone else, which is complete bullshit because I am the one who once wrote a column on men looking over my shoulder for greener grass and yet here I am.

In reality, I probably do this because:
A. If it's not going to work out I'd rather cut if off at the pass than let it go further and hurt someone more.  I will not lie...I have hurt someone in my past.  I was careless and disrespectful to him.  Why? Because, if you believe it or not, I actually believed that men did not have feelings.  Yep.  Thanks, Dad.  A mutual friend called and said that the bf was really hurt and crying nonstop.  I never knew what to do about that so I let him go because I figured "why would he take me back?"  I still feel guilt over this, the first realization that men aren't so different.
B. Protection mechanism! Scared to take the leap.  My mind suddenly races to marriage and my fear of making the wrong choice, much like I fear my Mother might have done because she was expected to get married.  After her engagement to someone she was crazy about was broken, by the guy, she picked the first handsome, eccentric, non-affectionate but hard-working man who fell for her.  He was from a lower class and my grandparents never really approved of him.  But hey, if she hadn't gone for him then I wouldn't be here, and we all know you couldn't live without me!  HA!

As I told the BFF yesterday, I am really proud of my recent realizations (epiphanies) towards relationships and dating, but there is clearly more work to be done and I'm hoping that getting out and dating will help me conquer in "real time", so to speak.  It's good to be aware of where you are and know what hills you need to get over.  There's no point in not being aware and then dragging others through your black suitcase full of bullshit!

xoxo

The Date Report: Steven

I know I promised a full report on Saturday but I ended up taking a day for moi, including sweat pants, my down comforter, Dog Whisperer, some DVR and Cold Mountain.  It was awesome!

So, without further adieu....

At 3:45p I looked into my closet with frustration and some horror.  I can't wear jeans, because their all a wee bit too tight on me so it's tights or leggings.  In this weather....leggings.  I call my gf Megan* who says "no" to the leggings and jeans would be good.  Jeans are not good.  "I can't get into any of them".  "That's all in your head."  "Oh, yeah, it's all in my head that my fat ass can't get into any of my jeans.  They don't fit, so how is that in my head?".  She sighs and says okay.  After about 20 minutes of disgust looking at my closet, I finally manage to select three outfits.

1. A maroon knee length, v-neck sweater dress that I would normally wear with tights and boots.  I tried it on and made a face in the mirror.  Too many bumps and bubbles.  So, I put on the tights.  Still too many.  Then I looked at the drawer in my dresser in fear of the one thing that lay inside.  Slowly opening the drawer it had somehow found its way to the top and it stared me straight in the face.  A girdle.  Yep, no fancy Spanx (which I think is a nice word for girdle) but a full fledged girdle.  Ughhh....I pulled it out gingerly praying that I wouldn't look better with it on and just give the whole thing up.  I slipped my feet in and PULLED and...pulled.  Sucked in some air and pulled some more.  It was on.  I slipped the dress on over it, looked in the mirror and I did look better but I also felt like any false move and the damn thing would explode, my bumps and bubbles along with it.  I did NOT feel sexy or beautiful.  I took a picture and sent it to Megan who said "gorgeous".  Ugh.  I don't feel that way.  So, it had to go.

2. A grey dress, that totally reminds me of something I owned in 1988.  It's tight on the butt and legs and then baggy on top where a silver pattern of circles or bubbles rests on the chest - believe it or not, this pattern actually helps those of who are mammary gland challenged.  The sleeves reach elbow length and a large boat neck allows me to wear it low on the chest as a v-neck or it falls off the shoulder.  Black leggings and black boots complete it.  I look in the mirror at what's become my "go to outfit" and think this might be a bit too much for a first date and a little bit too nightclub-ish.  I strip it off.

3. A long sleeve sweater/dress top with a low collared v-neck.  The thin acrylic material helps it hang and brings enough warmth that I won't be sweating indoors or freezing outside in the frozen tundra.  I pair it with jeggings (YES, I said JEGGINGS!  Shutup!  Their totally comfy) and camel knee-high stiletto boots.  I look in the mirror and see the first pleasing reflection of myself in months.  This is the one.  It's a little bit more casual than the others and very date worthy.  I also send this to Megan for approval and get it. 

I was moving slowly and it took another hour getting ready between sips of wine.  I wasn't nervous but I definitely was stressed.  Flat ironed hair to perfection, got frustrated with my eye makeup and ended up completely washing my face and doing it again.  Better, but I was missing my makeup Midas touch.

I feed Meow Mix and look at the clock - 5:10p.  Okay, I'm running late but I can hurry.  I reach under the white bed skirt and pull out the Tupperware container/box that holds my supply of clutches and other non-everyday bags.  I pull out this great snake print clutch that I got at H&M.  This bag rocks and I actually have a couple of the same style.  It's actually a multi-use bag.  The shape is square with handles at the top so you can fill it all the way and carry by handles, or throw in the essentials and fold it in half as a clutch.  Clever design, really.

I lay all the essentials out on the table and pack them one by one, most of them having their own specific place.  The rest jumbled together at the bottom, which will present an archaeological dig later to find my "lip jazz" (aka Burt's Bees tinted lip moisturizer).  Look at the clock.  Shit.  5:17. Shit.  I run into my bedroom grabbing jewelry (there is no time for decisions), quickly decide on the blue and silver circle necklace set Sister2 gave me for Christmas, and I was impressed by this gift!  A first ever.  The color sets off the blue jeggings and my eyes.  I like that my outfit is not matchy-matchy.  I've never been that kind of gal.  Fashion is, to me, an expression of art, creativity and who I am.  One more glance in the mirror.  Back to the bathroom to grab a comb for hair touch ups.  Suddenly I realize I have not put on socks or boots. Shit.  5:23. I quickly take off the jeggings, rub the bottom of my feet with deodorant, pour some baby powder in and pull a striped pair of wool knee high socks (seriously, this does help!), jeggings, zip up the boots.  Ready.  5:25.  Shit.   I wrap my purple Pashmina scarf around my neck, slip into my long Thinsulate coat - zip, snap, tie - grab my 1920's-inspired hat from Target (I get so many compliments on my hat!), gloves, keys, bag and fly down my stairs.  Opening the door, the arctic blast hits my face and the street lights are reflecting off the icy sidewalks.  Potential death, or shattered hip, await me.  Awesome.  Pull out phone. 5:32. Shit, shit!

Unlike my neighbors, I was smart enough to put down de-icer on my sidewalk that morning.  But that was the only danger-free zone.  I made my way to the grassy area and shuffled along on my toes - baby steps to safety.  Finally I make it past the end houses to the crosswalk and scurry across to the school sidewalk - always clear.  I get to my usual corner to grab a cab and...nothing.  Shit. I should have known.  In weather like this, there is never a cab.  Several drive by with their lights off filled with passengers enjoying the warm heat inside as I stand here in boots that have about as much warmth as a freezer.  Awesome.  I pull out my phone for the time.  Shit. 5:40.  And as I put it away the bus pulls up.  Done.

Jumping on to the bus I whip out my CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) card.  "Invalid". What the?  Okay, I pull out $3 and put it in to pay my $2.25 fare - I can't believe I don't have change - "No need for the other dollar," says bus driver.  "Thank you!" I text Steven to report on my delay.  "No cabs."  "Do you want me to come pick you up?"  "Sweet of you to offer but I'm now on CTA."  "Okay - seats by fireplace are taken. May have to work another angle to secure." "My money is on your resourcefulness." "Mission accomplished!"  "Attaboy!" 5:42.

Just 10 minutes later I get dropped at an intersection and prepare to transfer buses.  CTA has this ingenious mobile website where you can get times for buses - CTA Bustracker.  It's brills!  I quickly check the time for the next bus.  What the?  15 minutes?  Seriously?  Knowing that they can often come faster, I begin to walk down the street to the next stop.  I was certainly not going to stand their and freeze my ass off for 15 minutes.  At least walking would get the heart pumping and some warmth brewing. Knowing my CTA card was not working, I tried the trick again and claimed that I didn't have change.  "That's okay," said the busdriver.  "Thanks!"

Finally on bus.  Send text: "Just made transfer will be another 10. I'm sorry."  "No worries."  Ten minutes later, I leap off the bus, refasten the buttons on my coat and haul ass down the block to the venue.  I walk in, look around and see a handful of people sitting at the bar and a few small groups at tall boy tables sharing Happy Hour.  The place is virtually empty.  You'd never know that it is one of the hottest places come summer, jammed with people dressed to the nines and a long line waiting to go up the stairs and on to the beautiful patio on the rooftop. Finally I tell the host that I'm meeting someone by the fire. The host looks as confused as I and finally says, it looks like there is someone sitting in the nook by the fire.  I look and there are a pair legs perched on the table, but that's all I see of him.  I peak my head in and sure enough.  There he is sitting on the banquet leading up to a glass wall.  Inside a thin line of fire burns.  It's not as cozy warm as one might think but it's better than nothing.

"There you are!  Hi!" A big smile came across his face. "Hi, yourself."  We chuckle and he reaches in for a huge bear hug.  Ah!  I love big, tight hugs.  Brother-in-law1 calls it Hug Therapy, and he's right.  I love 'em.  I start to pull away and he grabs tighter.  Awesome!  "You're cold.  I'll warm you up."  Mmmm.

We finally break apart and I take off my coat but leave my hat and scarf on until I can warm up and the witty banter begins.  Wow!  Hilarious!  I love exchanging jabs and witty conversation.  It's one of my favorite things and it was....so much fun!

Steven is about 5"10' and a biggish guy with a Buddha (hey, a little Buddha is good as long as Buddha doesn't get any bigger), large legs and muscular!  His head is shaved and he's donning some killer glasses.  For a moment I was a little confused on his pressing me to dress "sexy" when he had on Brown Timberland lace up ankle boots accompanied by dark blue jeans so worn that the only sign they were once dark is the fine line around the seams, and a bluish-grey sweater.  The guys I typically date would be in nice dark jeans, a long sleeved button down and black ankle boots.  He was dressed super casual and I was happy I chose the right outfit.  Just chic enough but no overdressed.

The waiter came up and asked if I'd like something to drink and I ordered my usual Grey Goose Gimlet up, "Oh, she's going to be trouble!"  I laugh and gingerly slap his knee to say stop.  It felt less like a first date and more like two old friends getting together after a long time. Dare I say, it was very comfortable.  Steven has a shy confidence about him.  Quick with wit but not super gregarious in nature.  It wasn't long before we were just laughing and cracking each other up.  Within 15 minutes he leans close to me and says "I really want to kiss you."  Okay, that was fast! "But I want to wait.  I just don't know how long I can wait."

Within an hour I reached the point in conversation where I wanted to dig in deeper so I asked him what he does.  "I'm a police officer of aviation."  "What does that mean? Do you work at the airport, downtown, what?" "Yes, I work at the airport and help with anti-terrorism, bomb threats, etc."  "So you're protecting us?"  "Yeah, that's a nice way of saying it."  "You carry a weapon and all?"  "Yeah, sort of." WTF, man?  Give me some straight answers!  I never did get one which kind of pissed me off.  I'm thinking he's TSA but can't for the life of me figure out what he's telling me and why he's not just telling me.  Is he ashamed?  Is he undercover?  Whatever. I try again.  "Okay, so are you a Marshall?" "I don't travel."  "Okay, so do you work regular police shifts?"  "Yeah, a few days on a few off and rotation.  I work tomorrow at 5:30."  "In the evening?" "No, morning." "Oh my gosh. We should call it a night soon so you can get to bed."  "Eh, I don't require much sleep." (I hate to pull this book into it but "He's Just Not That Into You" says that if a guys is into you he will go without sleep, find a way to make it through the day and always make time to call you...If I was blind to it before than now I'm thinking he's interested).

After awhile the touchy-feely flirtation increased, the "you're so beautiful" became a regular quote (which a gal never grows tired of hearing), the witty banter continued along with some serious stuff, he began to move in closer and for the first time I allowed myself to linger longer during glances, to study him and allow myself to open to him and see what's there.  I told him about where I'm from in Kansas.  He grabs my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine, "So you're a country girl."  "I grew up in the city of 350,000 people. That's not country!"  "That's country to this city boy."  Hmph.  "Well, country girls are a lot more friendly and confident than city girls."  "I'm beginning to see that."

He asked me why I was single and suggested that I'm a heart breaker.  Hmmmm...maybe a little bit.  I hadn't thought of it  that way.  "I just have some things to deal with.  Relationships with men in my life that I needed to reconcile in order to move forward."  "Hmmm...interesting."  I did open up to him about my dad but didn't go closer to mentioning my abuser/stalker.  He shared that he was super shy growing up and took  a trip to South America where the women are really aggressive and it gave him confidence, and probably made him a bit of a player for awhile.  "But now that I'm almost 40 I'm ready to settle down and look for something real."  "That makes sense.  When is your birthday?" He leans into my ear and whispers "Tomorrow."  "Well, happy early birthday." He leans in again, "Thanks for sharing it with me."

It was almost 10:00 and I insist that we start our departure.  He leans in and whispers "Not without a kiss."  I looked into his eyes and smiled, "Okay."  Wow. Nice, gentle and lots of chemistry.  "Okay, I think we should get our bill and go."  "I want to stay here and kiss more."  "I don't really do full on PDA."  "Okay, then we can finish this in the car. I'll take you home."  "Well, that would be very nice of you." Then we sat and talked a bit longer waiting for the waitress to come by.  She didn't.  I finally said "I have to go to the bathroom.  Let's go."  When I came back he was still sitting there.  I grabbed my coat and he immediately got up to hold it for me to slip on.  What a gent!  Then he grabbed his and said "I'm going to valet for the car."  I stood inside and got this sinking feeling something wasn't right.  He came in to get me, but didn't open the car door.  Instead I stood in front of the car waiting for traffic to clear for one second so I could run to the door and open it before I was bombarded with more oncoming traffic.  I slid into the car, the heater on, and we drove off.

Once at my door, he pulled the car over and, for the first time, I didn't grab the door handle and jump out.  I sat, waited and then he reached towards me, hand on my face and kissed me.  We were now in full blown make out.  The initial kiss was so nice and this one started out the same and then all of a sudden I had a wild animal in my mouth.  This boy did not know how to kiss after all!  My heart sank and I thought "Well, maybe I can teach him as I have others."  But who wants to teach?  I'm willing to help his wardrobe, buy a new, nice, full length coat and trash that entirely too ugly Russian fur (real fur) hat with the ear flaps that just perches on top of his head.  Shutter.  But the kissing.  :( Bummer.  Major bummer.  I finally rescued my mouth from the assault and said "Thanks for tonight. I had fun." "Me too.  I'll see you on Monday."  "Monday?"  "Yeah, that's the next time I can see you."  "Oh, I have a board meeting that night."  "Tuesday?"  "I have a networking group I host that night.  Why don't you call me when you're free and we'll schedule?"  "You are interested in going out again, aren't you?"  "Yes" I say with a sigh and smile.  "Awesome!"

I got out of the car only to see an old neighbor and stopped to give her a hug.  He waited and I told her that my date was waiting for me to go inside and I did.  As I was washing my face, I replayed the night in my head and was very proud of myself.  Proud that I allowed myself to be open and be part of something.  Proud that by doing so I am one step closer to finding my partner.  Proud to let someone be sweet and affectionate to me. Proud that I didn't just grab the door handle, lean over to kiss him on the cheek, leap out, say a quick thanks and I'll talk to you soon and within seconds be in the safety of my home.  Over the years, my wall caused me to shut down; to not get close, not open up, not take the chance.  Often times I would immediately say "this won't go anywhere" or "I'll probably break up with him" so I never bothered to let anyone get close enough to see me. I even did that when I came home.  Immediately I thought "I'm going to hurt him.  Step away now."  When the reality is that is the old Epiphany.  That's the old me and my old modus operandi.  Now that I've done it the last few times I known why I haven't been able to be in a relationship.  I don't let anyone get close.  No matter what happens, it felt really, really good.

Finally snuggled into my flannel sheets and down comforter, doing Sudoku to rest my mind, it donned on me what was off about the end of the night.  I have this sinking feeling that we skipped out on our bill.  Four cocktails and tip.  Probably $50!  Unbelievable.  My phone buzzes.  Text from Steven: "I had a wonderful time with you this evening."  "As I.... :)" And with that I went to bed.  The next morning I texted a Happy Birthday wish and he said "Thanks, country bumpkin."

And with that...we shall see.  There are a couple of other guys I'm talking to and a dating service here in Chicago called to see if I'm still available.  No sex until monogamy and until then I'm dating around, and that includes another date with Steven.

xoxo