So ok, there's a new boy. My cousin, the lovely Blanco, has asked me why I don't mention him...like ever....even though we've been dating for three months...
I have this very ridiculous fear that if I do actually talk about him, it will jinx our relationship right down into the very snowy ground. I know it's unfounded and downright stupid but I really kind of like him and would be sorely dissappointed if he turns out to be like every other relationship I've ever been in. You know, the ones that make me fall hard and fast, and when I come up for air a few months later I simply realize that I can't stand him and was only in it for the sex. But it's different with, um, Art. I shall call him Art.
Art is unlike anyone I've ever been with it he way that he's almost insanely normal. He's not in a band nor has any musical or artistic talent whatsoever. He's gentle and kind and everythingIcouldeverhopefor FUCKING NORMAL!! You see why I have the whole superstition think going on?
I didn't want to go out with Art. I didn't want to go out with anyone. I simply didn't realize I was being blindsided into two dates, yes TWO, that I didn't even realize were dates. I met him through a friend at work who conveniently invited both him and I to meet up for a few drinks. I had never met him before and had no clue I was being set up, so needless to say, I was my complete and utter self on those two nights.
The first night I walked into the bar to meet my friend, Meow, and saw her sitting at the bar. As I walked towards her I noticed the guy to her right was pointing at me with a ridiculously confused look on his face. Meow was facing the other way so she didn't see me. He sat there with his mouth open, pointing, arm outstretched, directly at me. I smile, put my arm around Meow and told him that, "I'm just here to hit on her so you can close your mouth now." Meow turned around and introduced us. He, still mouth agape, looks at his finger and flexes it. "Wow, I was kind of freaking out, I thought I had a magic finger that attracted beautiful women." Yeah, sweet right? Then later in the night he proceeded to tell me I look, "Just like Kathy Griffen!!" So I gave him the finger and told him to fuck off. Can you feel the love? I could barely contain all the attraction. Pfft.
The following weekend I was in a mood. A really bad mood. I decided that I wanted to go out and get completely and utterly FUBAR'd. Oh and I so did. I met up with Meow and Art at a nearby poolhall and proceeded to get shitfaced while throwing darts. We ventured over to another bar and more drinking ensued. I danced, I drank, it was a blast. As Meow is dropping me off at home I decided (because I was fucking hammered) that I hadn't had quite enough to drink. "Do you guys want to come in for a drink? I have wine!! Woo hoo, wine!!!" It sounded like a great idea at the time... Meow had to go pick up her boyfriend, but Art was still thristy so he came in. And I spilled wine all over myself. Because he touched my leg. At that point it had never even occurred to me to think of him as a actual guy - he was simply a friend of Meow's and very unthreatening. I was all into having a good time and forgetting about anything real life related, so it never occurred to me that I was VERY attracted to Art. So, he continued to rub my leg as we started watching a movie ... and he promptly passed out.
Apparantly, Art had a bit too much to drink as well, so I went through the normal nighttime motions, brushing my teeth, taking out my contacts, blah blah. When drunk me realized I still had a guy sleeping on my couch, sitting up, mind you, I thought it was just mean to leave him all uncomfortable, so I woke him up and asked him if he wanted to come to bed with me. He said he'd be a good boy and we climbed in. He put his arm around me, held me tight, and we were both fast asleep.
Now, the weirdest thing is that I cannot sleep next to anyone, especially not close. In every realtionship I've ever been in I always end up on the couch. I'm a very light sleeper and any noise or movement or touch irritates the crap out of me. And yet, I was able to sleep basically inside of Art. Granted, I was drunk and probably passed the fuck out, but still...
The next morning I woke up to a monkey clanging cymbals in my head. I wanted to throw up and the utter ickyness was definately present. I so did not want to get out of bed so I was estatic when Dusty called and said he'd be keeping the Princess until later that night. We proceeded to do absolutely nothing that day. I didn't get out of bed to even pee until after 7pm. Art and I stayed in and cuddled all day. And that's all we did, we didn't even kiss, but were just so comfortable together that we went from talking about any and everything to falling in and out of sleep in eachothers arms. As crappy as I felt, I really did not want him to leave.
Ok, it's so past my bedtime, so this story is to be continued tomorrow...
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