I Knew What He Was When I Let Him Pick Me Up

I don’t really know how to explain my actions. I’ve done it again. The opportunity was there and I took it. In my defense, it has been a while and sometimes mama needs a good old-fashioned snog. I’m not saying it justifies the following story, but at least it makes it a little more understandable…I hope.

Anyway, the story begins about a month ago. A couple of friends invited me to go to Pizza Hut one evening where they were meeting a couple of guy friends and, despite the fact that I was feeling particularly not cute that day, I decided to go. That, in and of itself, was not a bad decision. What happened at Pizza Hut might have been. When we first arrived, the guys were not there yet and we had a good bit of girl talk about boys and marriage and so on, as you do. When the guys arrived, the conversation continued, though without the marriage talk. Little did I know that the information divulged that night would come back to bite me (though not literally; he was very gentle.) During the conversation, it was revealed that I like a bit of the non-committal make out and am not averse to kissing a guy without actually dating him and then never seeing him again. Well apparently one of the guys there, Crocodile Dundee Too (he’s Australian, which has added to my list of nationalities kissed while living in England that aren’t English), liked what he heard. We spent a fairly flirty hour or so discussing our philosophies of love and snogging. At the end of the evening, I felt pretty proud of myself that I rejected his offer to walk me to my door, knowing full well what he meant by that. I may be a lip-whore, but I’m not that easy. I can honestly say that I have never kissed a guy the first time I met him. That may not really be anything to be proud of, but I’ve got to work with what I’ve got here.

So fast-forward a month to last week. I decided I wanted to throw a Thanksgiving party at my house because you can never have too much Thanksgiving. I invited loads of friends, but only a few were able to make it. To my surprise, one of those friends invited Crocodile Dundee Too and another one of the Pizza Hut crew. I didn’t mind, or think another thing about it because we had only met the one time and hadn’t had any interaction since then. Well, apparently, CD2 remembered our conversation from that evening and felt duty bound to provide his NCMO services. (I actually have no idea what his thought processes were, but suffice it to say, he didn’t come for the turkey.) This was made abundantly clear from the moment he crossed the threshold of our flat. I gave everyone a hug as they entered and he took the opportunity to nuzzle my neck. So that’s how it’s going to be, I thought. At that point, I hadn’t yet decided what I was going to do, but we all know I don’t have a lot of will power, so you can probably guess it didn’t take long for me to decide that the evening would mostly likely end in a snog, though I couldn’t let him know that.

Although dinner was ready when they arrived, we were still waiting for another couple of friends and it gave CD2 an opportunity to lay it on thick. I really don’t know where he gets off thinking he can behave that way, but I did nothing but reinforce it. He took every available chance to have his arms around my waist or his whiskery face as close to mine as possible. I rebuffed him gently a couple of times, but without destroying the possibility that I was open to a little action. I just thought he should have to work for it a bit. After about an hour of flirtatious, innuendo-laden banter and quite a bit of not-so-innuendo laden physical contact, my other friends arrived and we settled down to eat. Luckily he kept himself in check while we ate and limited himself to sneaky hand grazes and more publically appropriate behavior.

After dinner, we all sat around and chatted for a while before dessert and it was lovely. Then the dishwasher finished its cycle so I went to the kitchen to get out the dessert dishes and begin cleaning up. Unbeknownst to me, this was the signal Crocodile Dundee Too had been waiting for. He followed me to the kitchen, which by the way is mere feet from the living room and without a separate door, on the pretense of helping me with the clearing up. There was some publically-inappropriate interaction for a few minutes while we unloaded the dishwasher and then I allowed him to turn me around to face him and he went for it; right there, in the kitchen, within hearing distance of the rest of my guests. Now, say what you will about me, but I tend to prefer my displays of affection to be less of the public variety, but I was caught up in the moment. I tricked myself into believing that the rest of the people sitting only a few feet away had no idea what was going on. (I was dead wrong, by the way.) So we kissed for a little bit and it was good and I remembered why I like kissing so much. This time I think it was partly to do with the feeling of reckless abandon and partly because, for all his arrogance, Crocodile Dundee Too can flat out kiss a girl. From what I can only imagine has been LOADS of practice, he knew just what to do and how to do it for maximum effect, and I liked it. We kissed for a little while and then finished with the dishes and then kissed some more at which point he invited me to come spend the rest of the evening with him ‘watching films.’ I decided that was probably not a good idea and put him off for the moment by serving dessert. He brought up the plan again in front of everyone and I dodged it by lying that I had to be back for Sunday and without a car, there was just no way it was possible. After my rejection, he seemed a bit put out and pouted a bit in an effort, I suppose, to make me change my mind. I didn’t. Eventually, it was time to leave and I walked them out. Crocodile Dundee Too had apparently sufficiently recovered to muster a prolonged good-bye make out in the stairwell, complete with hands in the hair and whiskery neck nuzzles, and then he was gone without reference to any future together, which is just the way I like it.

I apologize to all of you gentle readers for the new security measures. Apparently there was a security breach. I was speaking to a friend who is familiar with the content and subject matter of this blog. She mentioned that I needed to either make the blog private or shut it down. When I asked why, she said that people had heard about it and that I might improve my chances if I was a bit more careful. I pressed for more details, but she had promised not to say anything. She did mention that people had heard about it and were embarrassed. I couldn't bear the thought of some people about whom I've written getting access to what I've wrote. So until this all goes away, we'll have to do it this way.

One Less to Worry About

Oh brother. I’m completely hopeless when if comes to this game of love. I went to the monthly dance in Reading last week to see all my old friends. It was great and I had a lovely time catching up with a bunch of my peeps. I spent most of the time hanging out in the foyer chatting. I loved it. At one point, I was chatting with a group of friends when I was introduced to a new young man. He was nice, but seemed quite young. I didn’t think anything about it, but ended up chatting with him again later in the evening after the dance ended. I thought he was kind of cute and was impressed with his friendliness. But, I’ve met loads of guys at dances and nothing has ever come of it. That’s the only reason I can give to justify what happened next. We were just getting ready to leave and he asked for my phone number. It caught me so off guard that I couldn’t think of anything to do other than give it to him. I had to give him credit for being so bold. Most boys just don’t do that here.

I was excited until I told my friends on the way home. And found out a bit more about him. I had never met him before, but unfortunately for people here, the Church is pretty small and the grapevine is alive and well. If you ever do anything wrong, everyone knows about it and you never live it down. This poor kid is a prime example. Once I told them what his name was, they began spilling the dirt on him. Apparently he was so obsessed with a girl a while back that she had to get a restraining order against him. Yikes. Also, according to reports, he had a huge meltdown at Church one Sunday and was swearing and angry and someone had to remove him from the building. Double yikes. Now what do I do? He’s texted me a couple of time and requested my friendship on facebook. I feel guilty, but I really don’t think I want to take that on. I just wonder why I always get the crazy ones. Why can’t the guys I like ask for my number? I’ve spent my entire life attracting the guys I don’t want and apparently repelling the ones I do. Bleh. My friend Amanda used to say that every failed blind date was just eliminating one more person from the list of possibles. I guess, we'll chalk this one up to another one of those.

You Snooze, You Lose

This is, unfortunately, not a happy update. Crocodile Dundee and I are, apparently, in a holding pattern. I haven’t heard from him in quite a while. We have spoken since my last post, though we did have a good textersation a couple of weeks ago. I was pretty excited about it, since it was totally unexpected and of his own accord. He texted me one morning to inform me that the US was losing badly to the Australian team in the rugby world cup. When Australia won, he mentioned that he would have to come out to High Wycombe to redeem his prize. I pretended I had no idea what he was talking about and he reminded me that I had bet him dinner that Australia would lose. It was a good, flirty conversation.

The problem is that nothing has happened since then. He told me he was going to the States to visit his brother, but I don’t remember when or for how long. I guess I should cut him some slack, but really, I’m losing interest…fast. In retrospect, I probably should have let him know that I’m the type of girl who needs to have sustained contact to maintain interest. I tend to be sort of an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type girl. If we ever go out again, maybe I’ll need to tell him that.

In other news, I have a new crush. He’s in our new ward and when I saw him our first Sunday, I was immediately attracted to him. He had on a pretty flash suit and he looked good. We didn’t actually speak and I had no idea who he was, but did catch him checking me out. I gave him a dazzling smile and that was the extent of our interaction at that point. I didn’t see him the next Sunday and was disappointed not to get the chance to figure out who he was. Then, Monday, I went to FHE and I was overjoyed to discover that my crush was the son of the Relief Society President at whose house we were having FHE. He came in a bit late and, I’m fairly certain, was equally happy to see me.

Over the course of the evening, we got a chance to flirt a little and I worked my magic. We played a game and it quickly became an excuse for me to flirt unashamedly with him by shooting him coy glances and sassy smirks. It was fabulous. I won and he jokingly threw his cards and stormed out of the room. Man, I always go for the cocky ones. That night also revealed the hotness of a tattoo on the inside of his right forearm. I love it. I haven’t seen it up close yet, but there’s something about a bad boy that I just love and I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m hot. Last week at FHE, he made a special effort to acknowledge me when we got there and I caught him looking at me a couple of times. He refused to play the game this week and I gave him a good bit of teasing about that. Then today at Church, we arrived at the same time and walked in together. He held the doors for me and was quite solicitous. I ended up conducting the music and caught him making eyes at me from the congregation. Afterward, I saw him in the hall and he asked how I was doing. I answered as I walked past and should have stopped to chat, but chickened out. Hopefully tomorrow’s FHE will see renewed flirting and perhaps a chance to actually get to know each other a bit. No matter what happens, it’s always fun to have someone to look pretty for on Sundays.

To Kiss or Not To Kiss

Croc and I have sorted things out. After his ridiculousness of last week, I decided that I could put in a little more effort and actually initiate a conversation or two. I texted him on Sunday and we had a nice textersation. It was flirty and banter-y and at the end he told me he’d call me this week and we’d figure out a time to get together again. I would have preferred to actually speak on the phone, but he was waiting for his brother to skype. I’ll give him a pass this time.

So, we spoke last night and it was good. I felt comfortable and flirtatious and excited to be speaking to him again. I had begun to wonder if I wanted him to ask me out again just to have a second date with someone, but after speaking to him last night, I determined that I do actually have some interest. He seems keen on getting to know me better as well, so that’s good news.

Anyway, as we spoke he told me he wants to come take me out again, but isn’t sure when. I, somewhat more boldly than intended, volunteered the information that if he wanted to come on a Friday, he was welcome to stay over on the couch! What?!?!?! Although Robyn and I had discussed it and she’s fine with it, I barely know the guy. Surely the invitation is a bit premature. He was surprised, but I assured him that Robyn was fine with it as long as he stayed on the couch and I stayed in my room. Then he joked about sneaking into my room in the middle of the night and I told him Robyn would probably skin him alive.

All this talk got me to thinking more about kissing him. Now, those of you who know me even just a little, know that I have a tendency to kiss boys after having known them for only a short time, hours even on occasion. I realize this isn’t necessarily the best way to begin a real relationship, but I really like kissing and I don’t really know how to not kiss someone when they want to kiss me. I’ve never rejected a kiss. I’m not that kind of girl; I’m just a girl who can’t say ‘no’. So my dilemma is whether or not to let ole Crocodile Dundee kiss me the next time we go out, assuming that he tries. And if I decide not to kiss him, how do I do it without hurting his feelings while simultaneously letting him know that it’s just ‘no’ for now, not ‘no’ forever? If I do resist the temptation, how long should I continue resisting? Is a week long enough?

Let the Drama Begin.

Crocodile Dundee and I have had our first disastrous miscommunication. When we last left our story, he had said that perhaps he could come out to Reading on Saturday. I wasn’t terribly certain that he would, but I thought at least I would hear from him. Wednesday came and went. Thursday came and went. FRIDAY came and went. Not a word was texted. I wasn’t entirely sure what to think. I figured he had decided to go to the concert on Friday that he had previously mentioned. I knew he was coming to the fireside on Saturday so I figured we’d have a chance to chat then.

So after the fireside (at which I looked smokin' hot,) I saw him and, perhaps foolishly, assumed he would come talk to me. I busied myself chatting with a few friends so that it didn’t look like I was just waiting around for him. It ended up taking me ages to make it out of the chapel and in to the cultural hall, and by the time I did, I couldn’t see him anywhere. I was disappointed in his lack of effort and my unwillingness to make the effort myself. But really, it is his job.

On the way home, I sent him a text saying that I had thought I’d seen him and was sorry we hadn’t had a chance to chat. I didn’t hear back from him, though, which I thought was a little weird. He usually answers straight back. I chalked it up to the fact that it had gotten quite late.

Today, on the way home from Church, I got a text. It started a conversation that has me a bit concerned. I’ve decided that in order to do the story justice, I will need to include the texts in their entirety.

Crocodile Dundee: J yeah good job on the flute man! You were awesome! It was a great night, filled with the spirit! I had to leave straight after cause I came with friends who wanted to go! I hadn’t heard from you all week, so I assumed you were not interested in keeping in touch.

Me: (after thinking WTF!) Whatever. You were supposed to call me! I figured you ended up going to the concert.

Croc: Ha whatever! I’m serious! I thought you were not interested in me calling you as you seemed short and distant in your goodbye on Monday. Anyway, I was planning on going to the concert, until Friday when I blew all my cash on tickets to 5 concerts, lol. So how you been?

(Short and distant? Did he expect me to kiss him in the middle of Paddington Station? It’s not that I’m against kissing him, but I’d rather our first kiss not be in public for all to see. I don’t think that equals short and distant.)

Me: I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. I actually had a really good time with you. I’m doing well. I’m moving tomorrow.

Croc: Ok cool, yeah I enjoyed it too! Well then I’ll have to come out there sometime soon! So the big move is tomorrow hey, glad you got it sorted! How far from Reading is it again?

Me: Yes. I would like you to come out. High Wycombe is about 40 minutes drive from reading. It has a direct train from London.

All I have to say is that it’s a good thing I’m so forgiving, because, seriously, how ridiculous. I had understood that he was going to let me know if he wanted to come out before the fireside. He had texted me on the train home about coming out and I had responded, I think enthusiastically, that I would like him to. I guess he forgot. Anyway, I’m a bit annoyed, but hopefully we’ll be able to talk it through next time we see each other. Bleh. We can’t have both of us being completely insecure. That’s my job.

The First Date

Here’s the story you’ve all been waiting for. Before you get too excited, we haven’t kissed yet. It’s only a matter of time. Don’t worry. I predict that sometime in the very near future, you will be reading all about it.

But before we get too far ahead of ourselves, I need to tell you about our first date. The original plan had been for him to take the train out here to Reading. I had grand plans for what we could do, but the plan changed. Crocodile Dundee texted me that the Notting Hill Carnival was on Monday. It sounded amazing and I love London anyway. It sounded like it could be a good first date. So I decided that we could do Reading any old time, but the carnival is only once a year. The plan was hatched, then, that I would go to London Monday morning and we’d go to the Carnival. I was pretty nervous to actually meet him, but also really excited. I was, possibly, overly concerned with what to wear, but let’s be honest, it was pretty important to look hot. Thanks to the advice of friends and family, I chose an outfit that I feel turned out to be a smashing success.

So I arrived at Paddington Station and nearly chickened out when I saw him. I was glad that I saw him before he saw me, so I had a chance to collect myself before speaking to him. He had told me what he was wearing so I could spot him. When I saw him, I was a bit taken aback. He had a long, bleach-blond ponytail. He was wearing a sky blue baseball cap, a green and yellow Australia rugby jersey, and motorcycle boots. Definitely different than what I’m used to. He also wore aviator style sunglasses and headphones. Anyway, he walked past me and I stopped him. He gave me a hug and I was okay with that. I felt very comfortable right away, which was good. He was very friendly and conversational. I found it easy to talk to him and he has an easy laugh. It didn’t take long for me to realize that we were going to have a good time together. Also, he was a perfect gentleman and paid me back for my train ticket. Well played, sir.

After purchasing a tube pass, we headed for Notting Hill. For those of you haven’t been there, it’s not quite like it is in the movie. Portobello Road runs through the area and is still known for selling anything and everything a chap can unload. It’s a quirky neighborhood and quite full of life. The Carnival is put on by the Caribbeans who live in the area. It has to be said, those people know how to party. I thought Mormons threw a good party, but we’ve got nothing on the Jamaicans. The streets were alive with the sounds of reggae, the smells of jerk chicken, and the sights of colorfully dressed people. We wandered the streets soaking in the sights and sounds. After a little perusing, we decided we couldn’t resist any longer and decided to get something to eat. We took our food and sat on the steps of some house and ate. It was nice to sit for a bit and have the chance to chat.

We finished eating and then decided to try to find the parade. It was like no other parade I’ve ever seen. My parade experience consists of the 24^th of July parade in Mapleton where each ward gets to do a float and the highlight is the riding mower club. This parade, however, had steel drum bands, busty women in sparkly costumes, and people madly dancing. We stood and watched the parade for a while and it was awesome. It was really the perfect thing to do for a first date. There was plenty to see and do just in case there was an awkward pause in the conversation, not that there was, but just in case. It was also loud enough that we had to get close to hear each other.

Eventually we decided to walk back to the tube station and head out. The streets were packed and so naturally, I had to hold onto his arm or put my hand on his back so I didn’t get left behind. I don’t think he minded. It was the perfect excuse to initiate a little bit of contact. We made it back to Paddington and decided to get a McFlurry while we waited for my train. It was nice to have a bit more time to just chat. We have a lot in common so it makes it easy to chat. Then came the awkward point at which we had to refer to another date without knowing if the other person wanted one. I bit the bullet and suggested that he come out this weekend and he said he’d like to. We left it that he’d let me know, but that he’d like to come. So now I’m waiting to hear from him. He’ll call. I’m sure of it. And I want him to. I had a good time and I feel like we’d have fun together. I don’t know that it’s a definite love match, but I’m willing to give it a shot.