Good Things Come to Those who Wait

My patience has been rewarded.  I got kissed 4 times.  Who knew all it would take was some carefully placed mistletoe?  Last Saturday, my friends decided to take a little trip to Bath where they have a Christmas market in the streets around the abbey.  When we arrived, there was a homeless guy selling bunches of mistletoe.  I joked that I should buy some and my friends encouraged me enough that I couldn’t resist.  We all know I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, so this shouldn’t come as much of a surprise.  Anyway I gave him 60 pence and in return was given more than enough mistletoe to do the trick.  Jokingly, I then said something about wishing there was a way for me to clip a bit to the front of my coat hood.  Well, shockingly, at that point a hair pin was proffered and the mistletoe affixed to the appropriate spot.  That’s when the fun began.  Now, in my defense, I’ve been around plenty of mistletoe in my day and have never reaped the rewards of it, so I thought this would be the same thing.  I figured we all have a laugh and maybe a few other people would find it amusing and no harm would be done.  Well, I was wrong.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the English, it’s that they take their traditions seriously, even if that means kissing people in whom you have no interest or having a Queen who really doesn’t do much.  Mere moments after the mistletoe was put into action, I saw one of my friends coming at me with lips pursed.  Before I had time to react, his lips were attached to my cheek.  Then we had the brilliant idea to take a picture of the moment, which meant that he had to leave those lips firmly planted for quite some time.  I am pleased to report that the picture turned out very well.  We then met up with a few other friends and the mistletoe magic was repeated, luckily I was better prepared this time.  When I saw the face approaching mine I offered a cheek and everyone was happy.  We wandered around the market for a while and plenty of comments were made, but no other kisses were given until we were in the car park getting ready to leave.  The couple ahead of us had finished paying when the man turned to me and said, “Tempting fate, eh?” to which I jokingly responded, “And hopefully people.”  He apparently thought I was serious because he said, “Well let me be the first then,” and proceeded to plant one on my cheek.  At this point I realized that this mistletoe business could get me into serious trouble.  I resolved to wear it every day.  The final mistletoe escapade of the day came that night at the ward Christmas party.  I was getting ready to leave and was showing my clever invention to one of the old married guys in the ward with whom we’ve all gotten to be friends.  Again I was not prepared for the consequences of my mistletoe decision.  I was powerless to avoid another wet kiss on the cheek.  When I got home that night, I decided that I will never again be afraid to kiss someone under the mistletoe.  I can just tell them it’s a tradition I picked up in England, among other things…

The state of things

Hello faithful readers.  I’m sorry for the infrequency of posts lately, and for the lack of any proper snogging.  Believe me when I say, I am working on it and am probably closer now than I have been at any point since I got here.  For the Tweed fans out there, a quick update.  He has gone to the U.S. for an unknown amount of time.  He is looking at continuing his studies in the States and is checking out law schools there.  Thus, we have had no contact for weeks and, as the saying goes, absence either makes the heart grow fonder or makes it forget.  In this case, absence has not been good to him.  Those who know me well know that proximity is usually a key, determining factor as to how much I like a guy.  If he’s not around much, I tend to move on to someone who is. 

Enter…Swish.  Things have begun to progress nicely with him.  This past weekend has seen a substantial increase in the amount and intensity of our flirtatious interactions.  Saturday evening there was an activity that I wasn’t too keen on attending until I found out that Swish would be there.  I flirtatiously texted him about getting a lift and he flirtatiously responded in the affirmative.  He sat next to me throughout the activity and we exchanged a bit of witty banter.  A quick side note on that; I very much enjoy flirting with people who are quick witted and can handle a fair amount of good-natured ribbing.  Swish has proven to be just that kind of person.  I thoroughly enjoy flirting with him because he’s a tease and also smart enough to both give and get witty exchanges.  He also has pretty blue eyes and dimples, which never hurt anybody.  Anyway, back to Saturday night.  After the activity, a group of us decided that a jaunt to McDonald’s was in order.  Now, I’m not a huge fan of McDonald’s, but it is cheap and fast (just like me!) so off to McDonald’s we went.  It turned out to be fertile flirting grounds that night.  Even my friend who hadn’t witnessed my interaction with Swish before this night commented on both the quality and quantity of our flirtation.  My favorite part of the evening consisted of him giving me the pickles off his hamburger.  You know, like a married couple would do.  When he dropped me off later that night, I felt reasonably sure that there was something there. 

Those feelings were reinforced the next day at Church.  He again chose to sit next to me at every chance.  I tried to ignore him just a little, but I’ve never really been good at that game and so, paid him a fair amount of attention.  We shared a hymnbook and sat closer to each other than was really necessary, which of course led to the occasional leg or arm graze.  Witty comments were made and laughs exchanged, all accompanied by flirtatious glances. At one point he even draped his arm on the back of the pew.  Then after the meeting, instead of immediately leaving as he usually does, he stayed on the bench and we flirted fairly shamelessly (in the words of my roommate) for a solid half an hour.  A fair amount of teasing ensued and I, of course, pretended to be put out so he would have to say something nice.  Standard flirtation techniques were put to good practice.  There was even some casual discussion on our attitudes concerning making out (I’m pleased to announce that we’re on the same page there) and it ended up being another typical (for me) Sunday afternoon conversation.  Meanwhile, my roommate and the people he drove to Church were waiting (mostly) patiently to go home.  Finally, the time had come to call it a day.  We parted on good terms with the hope on my part that it wasn’t all for naught.  Later that night, when I checked my facebook, he had requested my friendship.  Sometimes the littlest victories are the most rewarding.