The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

I’ve been waiting to write any more about Crocodile Dundee until there was something more to write about than just a text or two. When we last left our story, he had sent me a text saying that he wanted to come take me out sometime. I said he sure could, and then the waiting began. He called me that Friday, and we chatted for a little while. He had to get on the Tube so it cut our conversation a little short and we didn’t get around to actually setting up the date. He said he’d call me when he got home but then he didn’t. He sent a text apologizing for not calling. I was disappointed, but he explained himself enough that I gave him a break. He was heading to a music festival that weekend so I knew I wouldn’t hear from him until later. I sent him a text the next day wishing him a good time at the festival.

I heard back from him on Monday, but only via text message. (For someone who said he doesn’t like electronic communication, he hasn’t actually called very much.) We traded a couple of messages and I was pleased that there was at least some communication. After Monday, I thought I’d hear from him soon so we’d be able to set up the date. I waited and waited and waited. When I hadn’t heard from him by Thursday, I figured we wouldn’t be going out this weekend. It is a truth universally acknowledged that it’s Wednesday for Friday and Thursday for Saturday. The problem is that I’m moving soon and next weekend is impossible. There’s a big YSA thing here and I couldn’t have that be the first time I met him. So I was getting worried that it just wasn’t going to happen.

By Friday, I was really concerned that he had just changed his mind or something and didn’t actually want to go out with me anymore. I’m such a weirdo sometimes. I know it’s ridiculous, but I always start to second-guess myself. I had convinced myself that I would text him Saturday and just see what was going on. I was so relieved then on Friday afternoon when he texted me. Bless him. He passed the test. We texted back and forth for a while and then (drum roll, please) he asked if he could come out and see me on Monday. It’s a holiday so he doesn’t have to work, and I don’t have anything to do, so it’s perfect. Finally! We made it. Now I can stop worrying about when he’s going to ask me out and start worrying about what to wear. Yikes.

Pluck of the Irish

The other day, my good friend and I went to dinner and got chatted up by an old, drunk guy. He had about three teeth and reeked of alcohol. Every time he went out to smoke, he insisted on starting a conversation. He asked where I was from and when I told him I was from the States, he said he was glad I wasn’t Australian. I guess he’s had bad luck with them.

As I was reflecting on the fact that I somehow seem able to attract old men, but not young ones, I remembered an experience I’d had in Ireland with my mom and dad. When my parents came, we each decided on one thing we had to do while we were in Ireland. My mom wanted to so to a cathedral, dad wanted a proper roast dinner, and I wanted to get chatted up by an Irishman. I realized it was going to be a tough sell, since I had my mom and dad with me. I’ve found that’s generally a pretty big deterrent when it comes to being chatted up. Unfortunately, through most of the trip, it held true. Not a single cute Irish guy even tried. I’m pretty sure there were loads that wanted to, but we’ll never know. Then, the last night, we decided to go out for some proper Irish music. The place we chose had a restaurant with proper tables and such, along with a proper bar with stools. The restaurant section was full of tourists so we went to the bar section where there were a few stools available. The bar had a doorway through which we could see the stage area where the performers were sitting. There weren’t enough stools for the three of us, so I stood near the doorway. As I was standing there, I could feel that someone was watching me. I couldn’t figure out who it was because there were only old people there. I chanced a glance toward the bar and met the eye of a man who I came to find out was the most delusional man I’ve ever met.

Let me paint you a picture of this man. He had to be fifty-something. He was wearing wellies with his jeans tucked in. He had paired that with a blazer and a flat cap. If I’m honest, he was kind of good-looking. Anyway, I could tell he was looking at me, but I did my best not to encourage it, because really there was nothing that was going to come of it. As the evening progressed, I got the feeling that he was going to come talk to me. I told my mom that if she weren’t standing there right next to me, he’d be chatting me up. She didn’t believe me. To be fair, mom and I haven’t ever been to a bar or club together, so she’s not really familiar with the way things work out there. She thought that because he was an old man, he wouldn’t give it a shot.

So imagine her surprise when later that evening, he did indeed give it a shot. I had moved back to the doorway and mom and dad were hanging back against the wall. It took him about five seconds to make his move. He came over and struck up a conversation. His breath reeked of cigarettes and alcohol and he had horrible teeth, but there was actually something quite charming about him. We chatted a bit about the music and then he wanted to know why I was in Ireland. I was a little bit uncomfortable flirting with my parents standing there watching it all, but it was kind of funny. We were just in the middle of chatting casually when he asked me if I was going clubbing that night. Of all the questions I never would have expected, that probably topped the list. I couldn’t believe he was actually serious. And just what would have happened if I had said I was? Could he seriously be considering coming with me or something? Was he insane? Luckily, I had the excuse of having to leave in the morning. Dodged a bullet there. Then he looked at me and said in his lovely Irish accent, “You’re a gorgeous woman.” I was of course flattered and pretty gutted that my parents were there. Who knows what could have happened if they hadn’t been.

A Bit More Thunder and Maybe Even a Spark?

Wow, I know I’ve only just introduced Crocodile Dundee, but things need to be updated. First of all, I finally responded to his message and told him that as a reward for his patience he could have my phone number. That was a bold move for me because it meant that he actually might call me. That was a week ago. He texted me that very evening and we had a nice text-ersation. I was totally twittery and glad that it wasn’t in person. I do find that it’s sometimes easier to be flirty when you can take the time to craft a perfect message. After a few texts, he asked if he could call me sometime. I totally wanted him to, but I wasn’t sure how to say yes without seeming too keen. So I didn’t answer that text for a little bit. He sent another one apologizing for being so forward and explaining that he prefers actual interaction to texts and emails. I feel exactly the same, but couldn’t be too eager. I replied that he could call me sometime and he told me to let him know when. I thought that was a little weird. How does one casually inform someone that it is now acceptable for them to call? I decided to give it a few days. I really intended to text him the next day and have him call me, but truth be told, I was a little nervous. What if he decided he didn’t like me after talking to me for a few minutes? I know it’s silly, but there it is.

The next day, with the help and encouragement of several friends, I screwed up the courage to text him. I let him know that I’d be around that evening if he wanted to give me a call. I then spent the next few hours nervously awaiting my fate. He finally called and it was great right from the beginning. I found him to be quite charming, though some of that might be his accent. I liked him right away, which I’m sure had something to do with the fact that he thought I was funny. That counts for a lot in my book. We talked for nearly an hour without even one awkward pause. I still felt like we had loads to talk about and it was easy and fun and casual and flirty without being silly. It was great. At the end, he asked if he could call me again sometime and suggested coming to see me. I was pretty excited. This just doesn’t happen to me very often.

I spent the next few days anxiously awaiting his next move. I was a little worried when I hadn’t heard from him after three days. I was characteristically nervous that he had decided he didn’t want to get to know me anymore. I tried to be patient with him, but I’m a classic over thinker. So imagine my elation on Tuesday when he texted me again. He said he’d like to come pay me a visit and take me out sometime. I said that would be fine with me so he said he’d call me this week and we’d figure out a time when we could get together. This boy is wasting no time. I like a man who isn’t afraid to go for it. It’s not even been a week since our first conversation and he’s already asking me out. I’m enjoying the attention, and I have to admit, it’s quite nice to be pursued. He’s definitely winning brownie points with me. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, but I’m excited. I don’t know where this train is going, but I’m going to enjoy the ride!

A Bit of Thunder from Down Under

A few months ago, in a moment of weakness and self-pity, I let my friends convince me to join LDS linkup. It’s not so much a dating website as it is a networking site. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. Anyway, I’ve had some pretty interesting people send me messages. And by interesting, I mean, really weird. I decided not to respond to any of them because then they might think I actually wanted to know them, which I didn’t. It’s one thing to be on the site; it’s quite another to actually participate. So I read the messages sent to me from crazy people around the world and laughed it off. I’m not going to lie; it is quite flattering to get so much attention, for the most part. Sometimes, though, it was not. I often thought about responding to some with a mere, “Really?!?!?!” but I thought it would be rude. It does take a lot of guts to make the move.

Despite my best efforts to avoid getting involved with anyone, I fell victim to a very persistent guy we’ll call Crocodile Dundee. He had sent me a message a couple of months ago, but I didn’t respond. I thought that was the end of it, but I got another message a month or so later. He said he was disappointed that I hadn’t responded to his first message, but that he was going to try again. I was flattered so I decided to give him a chance. I figured it was the least I could do. He did try twice. And I actually knew who he was. That was part of why I resisted at first. I’ve noticed him at a couple of events and thought he was strangely attractive. The first time I saw him, he had his long hair in a ponytail. I caught his eye a couple of times, but avoided actually speaking to him. I was mostly afraid that I’d like him. He’s the type of guy I’m always attracted to, but probably shouldn’t be. That’s really why I never responded. I was afraid I’d actually really fancy him. But as we all know, I’m dangerous when I convince myself that I have nothing to lose. SO that’s what I did. I decided to go for it. I responded to his message and told him I was glad that he had tried again. That opened a sort of correspondence. We traded messages a couple of times and I was pretty excited. He was quite keen to make contact and passed each test I've set. I made him work for it, though. I played it cool and made him wait for my responses. To his credit, he stuck it out. He has actively pursued and I like it. I've done what I think is a pretty reasonable job of playing just hard enough to get. I was pretty proud of myself. I’ve been a little out of practice on my flirting, but I’ve done all right this time. I told him that it would all be worth the wait. Time will tell if that is, in fact, true.

I know, I know

I think I might like Tweed again. I know. It comes and goes. There are a lot of reasons why I don’t think it would work, but then there are some reasons why I think it would. We’ve been spending quite a bit of time together lately and I’m sure that’s part of it. I’m the type of person who needs to be with someone in order to like them. So the more time I spend with someone, the more I like them. Anyway, it’s been coming on slowly. We went to see “The King’s Speech” together and it was really fun. He asked and paid, so I’m counting it. That means we’ve been on like four dates. I do enjoy his company and he’s really intelligent so we always have something to talk about. I catch him looking at me quite a bit and we often exchange glances and little smiles. He challenges me as well, which I think is important. We don’t always agree, though we respect each other’s opinions, and I feel like we’re equals in many ways. Sometimes when he looks at me, my stomach flips. I was over there for dinner this past Sunday and when I left, he gave me a nice long hug. He’s given me hugs before, but they’ve always been a little bit awkward. It wasn’t like that on Sunday though. It was a good hug.

God's Gift to Women?

A couple of weeks ago our ward had a temple trip. It was a beautiful spring day and I was grateful of the chance to spend it on the temple grounds. After coming out of the temple, it was time for our picnic. I was walking over to say hello to some of our friends when a young man stopped me. I thought he was perhaps a friend or relative of someone in the ward so I said hello. I guess in retrospect I shouldn’t have. I realized quite quickly that he wasn’t from around here. His English was not very good, so I’ll only really be able to give the gist of what he said. He asked in very broken English where I was from. He then told me he was from Slovakia (I think. Could have been Slovenia. Something along those lines.) He then asked me if I was a YSA. At this point, I was not entirely sure how to get away. I could tell things were going down a path that I didn’t want them to, but felt powerless to stop them. When I answered that I was indeed young, single, and adult, he said he was too. Then things really took a turn for the uncomfortable. He asked me if I would like to date him. Not just go on A date, but actually date each other, with the intent of marriage. I was so taken aback by his boldness, that I didn’t know exactly what to say. He then said, “Only if you’re comfortable.” As if I could be comfortable with that proposition. I decided that the easiest thing to do was pretend I was okay with it and then just give him the wrong information. I guess I should have just said that I was uncomfortable with the idea, but that made me uncomfortable too. I did draw the line at actually giving him my phone number. I gave him my email address and suggested that maybe we could just get to know each other a bit better that way. Then he gave me his name as Elder. I can only imagine that he considered his returned missionary status as enough to make him the dream come true for any available woman. It wasn’t enough for me, however. After we had exchanged email addresses, he left. It was quick as that, but left me quite perplexed. I had never been approached with such boldness. It was flattering, but a little discomforting. Luckily, nothing else has come of it and I think I’ve escaped the awkwardness of actually having to reject the date. I’m pretty sure I dodged a bullet there.

Te Quiero

Oh man, I just can’t resist any longer. After yesterday, I’m just going to have to tell you all about this guy, El Guapo. He is yummy. He’s sort of more ruggedly handsome and there’s a little something twinkling in his eye that makes him quite attractive. I first noticed him almost a year ago when he started coming to Institute. The first week, he had on a bright yellow polo shirt with the collar popped. So hoooot. I had no idea who he was and it took me a couple of weeks to find out. Imagine my dismay when I discovered that the reason I hadn’t seen him around before was because he was on his mission in Spain. Yep, he’s a mere babe. That’s part of why I’ve tried to ignore my attraction to him. But I just can’t help it. I am finally admitting that I have a crush on him. This comes after he spoke in our ward a couple of weeks ago and it was really good, and he looked really hot, and I caught him looking at me a couple of times. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Here’s a little backstory.

He seemed cocky and a bit full of himself at first so naturally, I was attracted, since I’m unaccountably a sucker for that sort of behavior. He came to things, but rarely talked to anyone. He would make the rare comment in Institute, but none of my friends seemed to be friends with him, so I had no way of getting in there. Then on the fateful Guy Fawkes Night at Maverick’s house where I first met the other stupid American girl, I got my first chance to really see El Guapo in his element. When we arrived in Oxford, some of us wanted to get something to eat. I thought we were just going to pop to a shop and grab some snacks, but we ended up at a kebab shop. I was perfectly fine with it since it gave me some one on one time with him. He was hilarious. He has this little smirk on his face most of the time and his delivery is sharp. He doesn’t say much, but when he does, it’s worth the wait. Needless to say, I enjoyed dinner very much. When we finished eating, I discovered that besides being witty, he’s also a gentleman. He paid for my meal and earned himself some huge brownie points. After dinner we went back to Maverick’s house and I was officially smitten. That was clear back in November, but it was the first time I really started to think perhaps there was something there.

Anyway, since then we’ve been casual friends and said our occasional hello at activities and such, but I’ve had a hard time figuring out ways to hang out outside of Church stuff. I’ve sort of tried to convince myself that he’s too young, not clever enough, too much of a lad, and so on and so on. It’s also partly that I’m shy around him. I find him so attractive that I can hardly flirt with him. I know it’s silly, but somehow I find it easier to be flirty with boys that I don’t actually like. And I think El Guapo is ‘too cool’ for me so it makes me feel a little intimidated. I think though, that he is actually more shy than he is ‘cool.’ He doesn’t talk to anyone, really, so it’s not just me. And while he doesn’t say much, when he does speak, he usually has something good to say. I’ve been impressed a lot of the comments he makes at Institute and as I’ve gotten to know him better, I’ve realized that he is clever and he does have a good testimony. So now, I have to like him even more.

I saw him at Institute last night and I said hello. He seemed keen to continue the conversation so we chatted a bit. Then I needed to say hello to someone and had to squeeze past him. I made sure to leave my hand on his shoulder as I walked by. Then I of course I had to do it again on the way back. I think it was a good decision because when he left, he made sure to say goodbye. Though I’m still a little unsure of how to get more time with him, I think the effort I’ve put in is beginning to pay off.