The Dreaded G Word

So I think I am in a relationship, which sucks because I really don’t want to be in a relationship.

Remember Leo? He has been coming over a lot lately. Like, a lot. And when he comes over, he spends the night every time; even if we don’t have sex.

I am not really comfortable with how much he has been coming over. I mean, he will come over for days, and while we do fun stuff like go on hikes or offroading, on bike rides, swimming, to movies, to dinner, or out for drinks with friends, he always stays the night. Always.

Oh, and he keeps fixing stuff on my car. He even put gas in it the other day. I am grateful, but geez! I’ve known the guy for three weeks!

You want to spend thirty hours in a car with me? What?

Now he’s making plans for fourth of July weekend because he will be on leave for a week, and he was talking about taking me up to see his sister and her family!! What?! NO! Then he said that he would like me to come with him when he has to drive back to his base on the east coast at the end of July. He said he wants to take me to DC and to the beach and to some other touristy places between here and there, and he would buy a plane ticket to fly me home.

Leo is nice and all, but I don’t know about driving cross-country with him, and I definitely don’t want to meet his family.

That conversation freaked me out a little bit…

The Dreaded “G Word”

We went out the next night with one of his military buddies to watch the UFC fight, and I jokingly said that I shouldn’t have to pay the cover charge if I wasn’t planning on watching the fight. Then Leo said, “I’ll just tell the bouncer that you are my blind girlfriend so we don’t have to pay your cover.” The guys laughed. I didn’t.

I know he was joking about me being his blind girlfriend, but he still said girlfriend. NOOOO!

My Moral Dilemma

Some of my friends have said that I need to have a conversation with him about how I am not ready for a relationship right now and blah blah blah, but I don’t know if that is necessary since Leo is going to Japan for two years. Right?

Plus, I’ll be out of town for the last two weeks of July and the first week of August, so the cross country thing probably wouldn’t work anyway…and we really only have two more weeks to spend together before we both leave town. Why should I hurt him if he is leaving the country for two years anyway? Why not just keep smiling until then?

Any advice would be greatly appreciated (especially if it is the kind of advice that I want to hear). What would you do in this situation?

Ignoring Signs Leads to Disappointment

I had a date tonight. My date was with Ivan, a guy I knew while student teaching. I ran into him two nights in a row a couple of weekends ago, and we exchanged numbers. I had high hopes for this date: we are both into education, I had a mini-crush on him while we were in college, and he is appropriate for me to date (meaning he isn’t friends with my ex, I don’t work with him, he hasn’t hooked up with one of my friends, and he isn’t the captain of my softball team).

 The date was lukewarm, at best. I should have known better, too. All of the signs were there, but I am a kind, forgiving person so I ignored them.

Ivan sent me a text around 8:40 on Friday night asking me if I would like to grab a drink. I didn’t respond to the text since I was eating dinner with Leo (more about him in another post). About an hour later he sent me another text saying “Some other time hopefully. lol” I responded with a quick “for sure!” text, and he sent me a smiley face.

(By the way, am I the only one who finds it annoying when people put “LOL” after things that shouldn’t make them laugh out loud? Are they really laughing out loud, or is that just a way of conveying a carefree tone? I use smiley faces for that. Everyone likes a smiley face. LOL’s are just stupid.)

I sent Ivan a text today asking him how his weekend was. Usually, I like to wait for a guy to text me first, but since I was a bit unreachable on Friday (and because Leo is becoming slightly relationshipy) I decided to text him to let him know that I was still interested. Ivan responded to my text right away, and he wanted to do dinner tonight but I had already eaten by the time I texted him.

We agreed to do drinks (via text. HELLO, Daisy! Steve Harvey would not approve), and I met him at the same bar that I went to with Mark, my first date after The Breakup and the guy who was already drunk when I met him at the bar. I think that bar is just not a good first date bar. I’ll have to remember that in the future.

Perhaps we could be friends.

Ivan showed up a little late, and he was very laid back during the entire date. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate laid back guys, but this guy was wearing flip-flops with ripped jeans and a polo shirt. This might work for some guys, but I felt as if I put much more thought and effort into my outfit than he did, and it only took me thirty minutes to get ready for the date. Including a shower.

We had some good conversations, but I just didn’t feel the spark. I had two drinks, Ivan had three, and he volunteered to pay for the drinks at the end of the night. Then he threw fifty bucks on the table for our bill that was forty-six dollars and some change, and he promptly left for the bathroom. While he was gone, I paid for my drinks and left the remainder of his cash as a tip.

Regardless of the poor tip and the lack of butterflies, I was still open to a second date with Ivan until he asked me for a ride home. Sound familiar? Mark asked me for a ride home, too. I’m telling you, this bar is cursed for first dates.

You need a ride? Really?

I agreed to drive Ivan home partially because we were friends in college, but also because he would have been stranded at the bar had I refused. On the drive home I realized that he was drunk (I don’t know if he had drinks before our date, but based on his behavior and body language I think he had), and he explained to me that he was letting his mom borrow his car while hers is in the shop. That is honorable and all, but he shouldn’t have asked me out if he didn’t have a car.

Oh, and when I pulled up to his house, he asked me if I would like to come in for a tour. I declined.

In case you missed them (or I didn’t mention them), here are the signs that I so stupidly ignored:

1. Ivan waited two weeks to text me after getting my number.
2. He waited until almost 9:00 on a Friday night to ask me out – and he wanted to go out that same night.
3. When I sent him a text this evening, he wanted to go out tonight, but he took two hours to let me know when and where we would meet. Even after agreeing on a time he was fifteen minutes late (perhaps he was hooking up with someone else before the date, kind of like how I hooked up with Viper before my date with Mark).

Perhaps I am over analyzing the situation, but I am a language arts teacher. That is what I do.

Please Don’t Talk During Sex. Thanks.

Back in April I met Adam, the captain of our softball league. I’ve been meaning to write about him for a while, so this is post is a bit overdue.

Meeting Adam

At the beginning of this semester I made friends with Carrie, another young teacher from my district. We had plans to go to a popular country bar in town, so I donned my new boots and my rhinestone cowgirl hat and drove to Carrie’s house. When I found her house, a few of her friends were already there. Including Adam.

Adam and I bonded over our love of country music, and I teased him for wearing a cardigan and a faux-hawk. He kept calling me a “peach” and he asked me to dance a few times. By the end of the night, he had my number and we kissed goodnight at Carrie’s front door.

I woke up on Carrie’s couch early the next morning ready to go home, but I had drunkenly given my car keys to Adam in the parking lot the night before and forgot to get them back from him. When he came back to Carrie’s house to return my car keys, Carrie oh-so-thoughtfully brought up my bookroom sexcapades in front of Adam. Swell.

Naked Adam

I didn’t really hear from Adam again (shocking!) until Carrie and I ran into him at a baseball game about a month later. After the game Adam invited me to watch a movie with him at his house where we drank wine and ate frozen mashed bananas with chocolate sauce. Naturally one thing led to another and we ended up making-out on his couch.

Originally, I didn’t want to have sex with him so soon, but after an hour or two of foreplay and a couple more glasses of wine, I gave in. The sex was good in the beginning, and it was adventurous too. We moved from bedroom to living room to kitchen and then back to bedroom. Then he went soft. Literally.

Just as we moved back to the bedroom, Adam decided to ask me a question:

Adam: “Is the bookroom better than this?”

Me: “No!”

 Adam: “Really?”

He seemed surprised by my answer, so I felt the need to explain.

Me: “Of course not! It’s a bookroom. It sucks.”

By this point he started to go soft, so I too decided to suck. It didn’t work. WTF?!

Adam: “I think we had a miscommunication.”

 Me: “Clearly.”

 Adam: “I asked you if this was better than the bookroom, and you said no.”

Oops.

Me: “Ooh, I heard, ‘Is the bookroom better.’ Of course this is better than the bookroom!”

 By that point the sex was over, even though he didn’t finish. I rolled off of him and got dressed. We hung out for a little bit longer and he wanted to finish what we started, but the moment had passed. He walked me out to my car and kissed me goodnight, and we agreed that we would do it again sometime.

It’s been a month, and it hasn’t happened again.

I know the Adam story isn’t over yet because since that night he has given me some signs that he is still interested – but that’ll be another blog post.

Lingering Thoughts

• Who brings up past sex partners in the middle of sex?!?!
• Adam must be very insecure to feel the need to ask me for validation.
• Carrie has a big mouth and I am never telling her anything ever again.

The Gentle Giant

*Interesting Observation*

I have better luck meeting decent men in bars when I am sober.

So I met a new boy man this past weekend. His name is Leo, and he is in the military. He is also more than a foot taller than I am, which is kind of fun.

Meeting Leo

Friday night I went to a popular country bar with a couple of friends. I volunteered to be the designated driver since I had my first softball league practice the following morning, and I really just wanted to two-step the night away.

After dancing with a couple of older men and a few young frogs, Leo approached our table and asked all of us if we would like a drink. I found this quite impressive considering most guys only offer to buy a drink for the girl he is hitting on. The girls declined the drink offer but suggested that Leo ask me to dance. Poor guy got a little flustered insisting that he couldn’t dance the two-step and that he hadn’t danced in years.

He danced with me anyway – that is if you could call what we did dancing. Really, we just skipped around on the dance floor and sang along to the music at the top of our lungs while he spun me around and around. I had a blast! After the first dance, we had a nice long conversation at the bar while Leo drank another beer. I did notice that he talked a little bit more than I am used to, but he also had a few drinks already so I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

After a while I felt a little bad for neglecting my friends, so I made my way over to the table while Leo visited with an old friend from college. After a couple of songs had passed, a sweet looking nerdy guy asked me if I would dance with him. I didn’t really want to because I was into Leo, but the girls insisted that I dance with him.

After my dance, I looked around for Leo. He was easily the tallest guy in the bar, so I found him pretty quickly – talking to a couple of skanky looking blonde girls (and I am not saying that out of jealousy. These girls were wearing super short, tight dresses and fuck-me heels that would be much more appropriate for a Vegas night club or the local red-light district – not for a country bar with a mechanical bull). I shrugged it off and went back to my table.

Not even four minutes passed before Leo was back at our table. He pulled me close to him and said, “Hey, I just want you to know that I am over there talking to those two blonde girls, but I would much rather be over here talking to you.”

I wanted to say, Well then why aren’t you? But instead I said with a friendly smile, “Yeah, I saw you over there.”

Leo explained further, “It’s just that my buddy is trying to hook up with one of them, and he needs my help.”

“Ooh, so you are playing wingman?”

“Pretty much. But I would really rather be over here with you.”

I smiled at him and said, “Go be the wingman, don’t worry about me. I’ll just dance while I wait for you to come back.”

I don’t think he liked my response, because he didn’t leave my side for the rest of the night.

Dinner with Leo

I gave Leo my number before leaving the country bar, and he sent me a text before I got home that night asking me to dinner. I turned him down for two reasons:

1. Steve Harvey says to never accept a date when asked via text.
2. I already had plans for Saturday night.

I did talk to Leo on the phone for a whopping five hours that weekend, and since he called me, I went to dinner with him on Monday night. It was delicious – and also only the second date I had been on since breaking up with The Ex. Let me tell you, this date went much better than the first.

• Leo got out of the car and opened the door for me.
• When we got to the restaurant, he opened the door to let me out of the car. Geez.
• He made sure to pull my chair out for me.
• He was very polite to the waiter.
• He kissed me at the door and then asked if he could take me on a hike the next day. I agreed.

Okay, so maybe I am easy to impress, but compared to my other date since The Breakup this one was phenomenal. Plus, I can wear my super tall heels and still feel petite next to him.

The Super Sweaty Second Date

We went hiking on a nearby trail the next day. I’ll admit that I was kind of worried about hiking with him so early in our courtship because it isn’t the most glamorous activity, and early June tends to be hot and humid. I’m sure my hair was a mess the entire day, and my tank top had lovely sweat stains in some very unattractive places.

Leo didn’t care. In fact, he used it as an excuse to spray me with water from his water bottle.

After our hike, we went up to the peak of the mountain and found a rock that overlooked the valley below. It was beautiful, and we sat up there for over an hour. He kissed me on that rock a couple of times, which was very nice.

I won’t go into detail about what happened next. Basically, we just went back to my apartment to “watch a movie” and drink some wine. Two bottles later we decided it wouldn’t be safe for Leo to drive, so he slept in my bed. With me.

I know what you are thinking, but my pants stayed on all night long (and I should get mucho credit for that, because there were a few times where I really wanted to take them off).

I treated him to breakfast the next morning and we lounged around on the couch until noon watching the first season of How I Met Your Mother on DVD.

All in all, I would say it was good. Ooh, and the best part? Leo is only in town until the middle of July, which means that I don’t have to worry about a commitment. Woohoo!

Proposing via Text Message is SUPER Sexy. Not.

I was proposed to last week. Via text message. I’ll give you three guesses as to who sent it.

3…

2…

1…

Last Monday The Ex sent me a blurry picture of an engagement ring and this message, “This is here for you, and so am I. I need you in my life, and I need your forgiveness for the way I treated you, of which I am incredibly ashamed. I want to be a loving husband and father and I want to do that with you. Everybody misses you and still loves you, you were like a daughter to my parents and a sister to my brother. I would give anything for a chance to redeem myself and show you that I can be the guy that you first fell in love with.”

Ugh.

Luckily, I already had plans to have a bonfire with a friend of mine. We burned papers, bills, and old photographs while drinking wine. It was perfect. Oh, and I also sent Gary a sext. He came over the next day on his lunch break, and while I didn’t feed him food, he informed me that he had a very nice meal at my house.

Even though I didn’t want to, I called The Ex the next day. I felt like I needed to respond to his text proposal somehow, and a phone call seemed like the best way to tell him that he needs to move on with his life. Plus, I was enjoying the effects of post booty call bravery. The phone call didn’t go well.

We talked/yelled at each other for about forty-five minutes before I finally hung up on him. He proceeded to send me text message after text message, which I have thoughtfully typed out for you here:

“That did not make anything better for me, in fact it knocked me back two steps for the one of progress I made, thanks a lot”

And a few minutes later…

“Yeah, you have a great life too, knowing that you broke my heart”

A few minutes more…

“I can’t move on without a chance to redeem myself”

A few more minutes passed…

“This is my last text to you, I am sorry for everything I ever did to you, I wish things could’ve been different, I will always love you with all my heart, you are such an amazing person, and thank you for still believing in me. I love you, good bye.”

Twenty minutes later…

“Sorry, but I just remembered, can you please defriend the band on Facebook, thats one of the reasons I texted you that yesterday because i saw how beautiful you are and that’s not making it easy for me to move on, seeing what I lost. I don’t have time to do it now, so can you please do that for me.”

I still didn’t respond. He sent another text two hours later.

“I don’t care about the false home the recruiter gave you about me getting in [to the military], but it wasn’t my fault that I didn’t get in, that really hurt. Also, I don’t want Sebastian.”

I finally responded saying:

“I figured. Now leave me alone.”

 To which he replied…

“With pleasure!!!”

And I haven’t heard from him since. Hopefully now he can move on.

The Past, Cats, and Stones

An Irishman recently said to me, “The past has a way of throwing stones at your back.” This is very true.

This past weekend The Ex reappeared. Again. This time he sent me a text saying, “Can we please work things out, I’m not the same guy anymore, I have nothing but love and respect for you, and I know I can show you that every day. These last three months have been hell for me, but I’ve survived and I’m better.” Ugh.

I decided not to respond to that text for several reasons:

1. The first sentence drives me nuts. I mean, he starts out with a question, but decided to punctuate with a comma instead of a question mark. Ugh. Ok…maybe I’m being a little nitpicky. But he spent eight years with me! I teach language arts! He should know better.
2. Last week he sent me three text messages in a drunken rage telling me to stay away from his friends (meaning Max). He then apologized for those text messages on Mother’s Day… as soon as he sobered up…two days later.
3. Any response from me will prompt another text from him, and I do not wish to engage in any conversation about “us” with him. Not only does that sound unpleasant, but it will also give him false hope. Just because I broke up with the guy on Valentine’s Day does not mean that I am a heartless bitch.

I called him the next day…but I really, really, really wished I didn’t have to call him the next day. In order for you to understand my reasons for calling him on Sunday, I need to give you some background information.

Sebastian

About a year ago, The Ex and I adopted a cat. This cat is named Sebastian. Sebastian is an awesome kitty, and I got to keep him after The Ex and I broke up (victory!). Here’s my current dilemma: Sebastian is accustomed to having company all day long, but said company has since moved back in to his parents’ house. Subsequently, Sebastian now spends most of the day alone. He protests this new arrangement by pissing and shitting under my kitchen table. Damn cat.

Even though it is nasty, I can deal with the piss and the shit when it is under the kitchen table. It is easy to clean up so my apartment doesn’t smell, and summer break is very soon so I will be able to spend more time with Sebastian; but I cannot deal with piss and shit when it is on my bed. On Saturday night I biked to a bar with some friends and because you can still get a DWI on a bicycle, I spent the night on a couch. When I finally got home on Sunday morning I flopped onto my bed and into a lovely, pungent piss stain. Damn cat.

Given my newfound single girl lifestyle, I took extra pains to make sure my bedding did not smell like cat urine post laundering. That’s when I realized that my newfound lifestyle is not ideal for Sebastian. I’ve suspected this for a while, but I didn’t want to admit to it. I love my cat! I don’t want to get rid of him!

The Phone Call

I knew I have to give Sebastian away, so I called The Ex. If the roles were switched, I would be hurt and angry if The Ex gave Sebastian away without asking me if I wanted him first, but I really didn’t want to call The Ex because I knew that he would also want to talk about “us.” The conversation sounded something like this:

The Ex: Hello.

Me: Hi. I’m not calling to talk about your text yesterday. I want to talk to you about Sebastian.

The Ex: Okay…

Me: Basically, I am barely home anymore, and Sebastian has been pissing and shitting under the kitchen table.

The Ex: …

Me: I’m also going to be gone a lot this summer, and I know he is upset because his routine has changed since you moved out, and I’m going to work extra-long hours next semester, so it isn’t fair for me to keep Sebastian when he is clearly unhappy.

The Ex: …

Me: So, I want him to go to a good home, and I know you love him too, so can you take him?

The Ex: I don’t know. I’ll have to ask.

Me: Okay, thank you. Just let me know as soon as you find out.

The Ex: Okay, but can you please give me another chance?

Me: No.

The Ex: I’ve been working really hard on changing, and I’m much better now.

Me: Clearly, considering you sent me some nasty text messages marking your friends as your friends last week, and this week you’re begging me to take you back. That doesn’t show growth. So no, I will not give you another chance.

The Ex: But–

Me: No. I’ve moved on, so should you. I am not having this conversation with you. Let me know if you can take Sebastian or I will find another home for him. Bye.

I then hung up and cried for twenty minutes, but I didn’t cry about The Ex. I cried because I don’t want to get rid of my Sebastian, and because I was experiencing the emotional side effects of PMS. I felt much better after a good cry and continued with my day.

The Ex-Mother-in-Law (AKA xMiL)

The next day I got a text from his mother, my ex-mother-in-law(ish). Let’s just refer to her as xMiL for simplicity’s sake. Her text looked like this:

“My heart has been broken for my son and I will never understand how u could stop loving him like turning off a switch. Also turning your back to us as well. He was always faithful and there to support u and how sad that you’ve become someone we would not recognize as being the DAISY WE KNEW.”

Umm…seriously? It’s been three months. I expected this text, or a phone call, two months ago. At first I was going to respond. I was going to tell her that my heart was broken every night he drank himself into a rampage, every time he failed to follow through with his promises for a future, and on the day I discovered he had been lying to me about taking college classes for a month. His excuse for dropping the classes? He needed the money to buy me an engagement ring. He failed to see the flaw in his logic. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t stop loving him like turning off a switch, but that it was a very slow and painful process.

I also wanted to tell her that while I am no longer sixteen, I am still the stubborn, independent, driven Daisy they knew. I just outgrew their son.

In the end, I decided not to respond to the xMiL. There is nothing I can say to that woman to make her happy with me. And let’s be honest, does her opinion of me really matter? I haven’t spoken to them in three months, and there is no reason for me to speak to them in the future. I believe that right now she needs me to be the bad guy so that she can feel better about the situation. I can do that. I can be the bad guy. I suppose this is my final act of love for her and her family, although I know she will never see it that way.

Sometimes the past has a way of throwing stones at your back, but why do they have to hurt so much?

Inspired By Nature

I’ve recently taken up walking as exercise, and I love it. It feels good to move around outside in the sun, but it also gives me a chance to sort through my thoughts. While walking today, I noticed two things that I usually take for granted (this is one many reasons why nature is awesome).

Mundane Thing #1: A Dandelion

Yes, this is a dandelion, and yes, there are millions of pictures of dandelions just like this one floating around on the internet. Obviously my picture is the best one of them all for two reasons:

1. Immediately after taking this picture I sent it in a text to Viper saying, “I’m thinking about blowing on this dandelion, but I would really prefer to blow you instead.” Now, every time Viper looks at a dandelion, he will think about me…or at least for the next day or two.
2. This dandelion, which was the only dandelion within a good twenty foot radius, kind of represents how my self-identity has changed in the past three months. Allow me to explain.

I am surprisingly okay with being alone, and I don’t mean relationship wise, I mean with my own company. Since The Breakup, I’ve finally been able to find out who I really am. The Ex and I started dating when I was sixteen. Sixteen! At the time, I thought I was so wise and ready for commitment, but I was a moron. I didn’t know shit, and I am still trying to figure it out. I just didn’t know I was still trying to figure it out…until The Breakup.

My relationship with The Ex changed me, and not for the better. Obviously I have some wild oats to sow, but a big reason for that is because I’ve been doing everything “right” for too long. When I was with The Ex, I was the perfect girlfriend. How boring is that? For eight years I stayed home when my friends went out. I hardly ever noticed other guys, and I always checked with him first before doing something fun for myself.

Now I believe that some of the best stories and memories we can have are the ones where we did something that we shouldn’t have, but did anyway because it was fun (with caution, of course).

Mundane Thing #2: A Bush of Funky Flowers

One could argue that this bush of funky flowers isn’t mundane because it is full of funk and stuff, but I’ve walked past it for years without giving it notice. Today, I snapped a few pictures. The first picture is of the whole bush. Like me, it is cluttered and busy. Throughout the day my mind and mood bounce around like the basketball in a game about to go into overtime. In the mornings I am content with my life, my job, and my relationship status. By lunch time I am bored and grouchy. By the last bell I am lusty and energized, and by dinner time I am reflective (hence this post), and usually slightly buzzed from one-to-many glasses of Pinot Grigio. It is exhausting.

Then, I tried zooming in on only one flower:

Which picture do you like better (pick the second one)? Yes! The second one is correct! This picture is visually appealing. It has finesse, it has focus. I need finesse and focus. Instead of worrying about why the cute doctor from Saturday night hasn’t called me yet, and instead of feeling frustrated because Viper hasn’t…ahem…borrowed a book in eleven days, I need to focus on discovering me.

How will I do that? By living my life, by sowing my wild oats, by misbehaving a little bit, by spending time in the sun every day, by spending more time with my camera and with my stove, and by blogging. I believe that blogging is the key. It keeps me sane, and it helps me fall asleep at night.

Cookies – Oven = Perfection

I believe that every single girl needs to have mastered the recipe for at least one tasty delight. Personally, I’ve mastered two recipes for sugary treats. Bow down to me and my domestic awesomeness because I am going to share one of those recipes with you now. The best part? This recipe is super easy. And delicious.

Here is the recipe (you can tell it is yummy because the paper is covered in dried vanilla extract, cocoa, and oatmeal).

And because I am the type of person who likes to copy and paste recipes into a separate word document for my recipe folder, I’ve typed it out for you here:

Daisy’s No Bake Fudge Cookies

2 cups sugar

1/4 cup cocoa

1/2 cup milk

2 cups quick oatmeal

1 stick butter (NOT margarine)

1/2 cup peanut butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 teaspoon salt

Directions: Combine sugar, cocoa, milk, and butter in large saucepan. After mixture reaches a rolling boil, cook for three minutes (set the timer because the recipe is a bit finicky). Remove from heat and add vanilla, salt, peanut butter, and oatmeal (I suggest measuring this out in advance because you don’t want the mixture to sit on the stove while you figure out the measurements. It will harden before you add the good stuff). Beat until thick and glossy as you would fudge. Place in buttered pan and let set. Cut into squares to serve (Clearly, I didn’t do this last part. Instead I just spoon the mixture onto parchment paper and let it sit for about 10 minutes).

*It is very important to use butter instead of margarine, or else your cookies will have the consistency of Gak. Bleh.*

Okay, so my title may be a bit misleading because you still use the stove to make these cookies, but in my defense it is easier to remember to turn off the stove than the oven. And yes, I have a tendency to forget to turn off my oven. Whoops.

A Snake in the Bookroom

Last week was a great week for my…ahem…garden. Monday Viper and I had a secret rendezvous in my bookroom. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t a great idea because we nearly got caught, but hey, you only live once, right?

By the way, isn’t there a new acronym for that? YOLO or something? That just makes me think of yogurt.

Forbidden Fruit

Allow me to take you back a few weeks before I tell you about our bookroom affair.

After our initial bit of bedroom fun, Viper came over again a week later to seal the deal. That’s right, it took a week. It felt like eternity. It would have happened sooner, but Mother Nature decided to intervene for a few days. What a bitch.

Anyway, Viper hasn’t been back to my apartment in over a month since he lives an hour away…and he has kids and a roommate. Damn. Oh, and the roommate is his baby mama. His words, not mine. Double Damn.

Yes, I’ve known about his roommate from the beginning, and no, I do not know if they are still involved or not. Quite frankly, I don’t really care for several reasons:

1. I have needs, and he satisfies those needs.
2. This ensures that my relationship with him will remain completely physical, which is just what I need right now.
3. He is not allowed to get jealous when I do my single girl thing.
4. His relationship with her is his business, not mine.
5. He is a grown man and he can do what he wants with whomever he wants.

Secret Rendezvous

Since it is difficult for Viper to get to my apartment, we’ve had to make do with the resources available to us such as his classroom and my bookroom. Usually we’ll just have a hot and heavy make out session in one of those two locations after school, but sometimes we get a little carried away. I mean, the first time Viper and I took advantage of the bookroom, he literally ripped my panties off. Aye!

The bookroom is a windowless room off of my classroom. The only way in is through my classroom, and the door to the bookroom automatically locks from the outside but not the inside. The only surveillance cameras at our school are outdoors. This is why we use the bookroom. It is a fortress.

On Monday, we were in the bookroom doing our thing (quietly, I might add), when suddenly we heard a noise coming from my classroom. Viper froze and we both listened. A moment later, there was another noise. It was the custodian coming to clean my room.

We quickly redressed and I grabbed a stack of random books off of the shelves. I flipped the light off just before opening the door while Viper hid in the back corner of the bookroom. The custodian glanced up as I walked into the classroom, and I cheerfully said hello. I took great care in setting down my large pile of random books and organized them on my table in a very precise manner. I then pretended to notice a poster that had fallen off of my wall earlier that day.

I smiled at the custodian and asked her if she had any duct tape. She doesn’t speak much English, so I pointed to the strips of duct tape keeping other posters and samples of student work mounted on the wall. The custodian smiled and said, “Un momento” and disappeared from the room. I quietly tapped the door to the bookroom, and Viper flew out of my classroom. Thirty seconds later the custodian returned with duct tape, and I calmly taped the poster back to the wall. After a few more trips into the bookroom to grab additional books for my pointless collection, I left.

Viper and I finished what we started on Wednesday. And it was good.

Return of The Ex

I love being outdoors. Whether I am walking, riding my bike, or just basking in the sun, there is something comforting about being surrounded by blue skies and a perpetual breeze. I haven’t spent as much time outdoors as I would have liked the past couple of weeks, so I desperately needed to ride my bike this morning.

At 7:30 I rode my bike to the Starbucks about a mile and a half away from my house, which may not sound like a big deal but since I’ve only owned Hercules (my bike) for a week, and the mile to Starbucks is mostly uphill, I was sucking eggs by the time I pulled into the parking lot. It felt great. It also felt great to not be hung over. The best part about my Starbucks ride? The trip home is all downhill. I LOVE gravity!

But the purpose of this post is not to tell you about my early morning bike ride. Instead, I want to give an update on The Ex. Mostly, I want to vent.

Since I bought my bike, I’ve been trying to find other people to ride with. Remembering how much fun I had on bike rides with my dad when I was a little girl, I thought it would be fun to invite Max and his two daughters to explore a trail by the river this weekend. We decided that a Mother’s Day bike ride would be fun, especially since CDog is going to a concert that evening instead of spending the day with her girls.

The Story

I called Max after work yesterday to plan our outing, but he didn’t answer. We played phone tag for a while, and when I tried calling him before going to bed last night he still didn’t answer. I should have known that it wasn’t a good time. Max is in The Ex’s band, and they have band practice on Friday nights. Well, the Ex saw my incoming call on Max’s phone. Oops.

I fell asleep without realizing what had happened, so when my phone rang again I was expecting it to be Max, but it was The Ex. Damn. I ignored the call and went back to sleep. I woke up this morning to these text messages from The Ex (verbatim):

“Don’t call max”

“If you’re done with me you have no business talking to MY FRIENDS!!! I don’t care if you want to see the girls, I think I’ve been really cool about this bull shit breakup but don’t talk to my best friend.”

“I don’t talk to your friends, so please give me the same respect and not talk to max”

I didn’t respond to those either, but I did text Max this morning. I felt I should apologize for getting him into trouble with his new girlfriend last night. Ha!