Best Night Yet

In light of my recent inability to play pool, I had plans to meet up with Antares last night, and found out that he's quite a talented pool player!

We headed to a small, hole-in-the-wall biker bar in Raleigh where I learned the Science behind pool. And more than, "it's all angles! Like Geometry!" Well I sucked at Geometry, so there has to be a better explanation!

We're planning to head back for karaoke night on Wed (since Thursday is the holiday) and I want to be able to show off my new skills! I hope I don't forget!

That was by far not the best part of the night though. We had planned to meet up at 4:30 which was perfect with everything I needed to do around the house.

I left my house at 3:30 for the 55 minute drive. Instead though, it took me well over 60 minutes to go what should have taken 15! Stupid basketball game.

[If you're squeamish skip over the rest of the blog]

I had dressed the part in a sexy red dress, strapless red bra, and white thong. I had silver hoop earings adorning my ears, and stilettos adorning my feet. When I finally got to Antares house, I can only imagine what his neighbors must have thought.

I ran the bell and waited. And waited....And when I still got no answer, I finally pushed open the door to find him lounging on the couch. "Open your door!" I exclaimed excitedly. As it turns out, the bell was broken unbeknownst to both of us.

The excitement of my little Breaking and Entering was soon forgotten as his eyes adjusted on my outfit.

I believe his exact words were, "You know I'm going to bend you over the bed, right?"

Yes, please.

The rest of the details aren't important. The sex is usually good, but this was phenomenal. All in all we made love 3 times that night.

And then the boy kicked me out of bed for coffee before 8 a.m. this morning. After pancakes and too serious of conversation I was out. And on with life.

And I'm ignoring these twangs of feeling.

Karaoke Night Makes for Ugly Mornings

Last night Melissa and I headed out to the same bar where we were approached by Mr. T and I was told that I was unapproachable.

Once again, we repeated the process of driving to my apartment, this time to allow me to change and to grab an overnight bag. This time though we didn't hit ridiculous amounts of traffic, and were in and out in a lickedy split.

We headed to Regazzi's, a small Italian restaurant that looks small and intimate with unlimited bread and salad/soup with your entree. The food was phenomenal!

Next we headed to Melissa's house--way out in the boonies--where she showered, changed, and set me up with a movie involving Pacey from Dawson's Creek.

When she was finally ready to go, we headed out for karaoke.

I wish I could say that we, "screamed and laughed when I got up and sang," but I didn't sing. Instead, I spent most of the night dancing, laughing, and playing ridiculously bad pool.

They introduced me to their friend Eric whom was frankly too busy playing with his phone to be interested in saying hello much less more of a conversation, and so my approach to him was to ignore him all night.

When I finally did get approached it was by a guy that had been hanging around our table, and happened to know a mutual friend. He mentioned how he and his wife used to do karaoke all the time, but now not so much. I wasn't disappointed, I knew he was married...after all, he wore a ring. Naturally, my next question was, "How long have you been married?"

He continued to explain that he was 30, had been married about 10 years, and that his wife recently left. Apparently about 5 years ago she decided they were done, and became pregnant by another man. She then came home, and they got back together. It's not his biological daughter, but it's his name on her birth certificate, and he loves her all the same. She left a few months ago, and he says he's done fighting for his marriage because if he convinces her to stay, how long will she stay that way? It has to be her decision to make their marriage work.

In the end we didn't get to talk much, and it was all screaming over the music directly to our right. I gave him my number before I walked out, "in case he wanted to talk more" with bets that he wouldn't call.

As it turned out he did--twice in the same night. In the first instance, I was dreaming and couldn't figure out what the noise was. However the most annoying sound in the world is the only thing my phone makers could come up with for missed texts/calls. And THAT woke me up. About 30 minutes from the previous call, he called again.

I told him of how we took bets on whether or not he was going to call (Melissa won that one), and in his soft spoken nature, he continued to apologize and tell me that he didn't realize I had to be at work so early. After all, it was 2:30 a.m. He let me go, and I promised to call him back.

Morning came all too soon, and the option to call out was tempting. Unfortunately I don't allow myself to call out for my own stupidity. So Melissa and I dragged our asses out for a full day of work.

All that came next was a lunch time phone call to him, and sleep. Lots, and lots of sleep.

Waiting for the item in the aforementioned text message

Tonight a much more upbeat text came across my phone while I was knee-deep in the movie, "The Two Mr. Kissel's".

It read, "Can you give me your address? You don't have to, but if you could just humor me...."

So I called him back. And asked, "What do you need my address for?"

He didn't tell me so I went on blind faith that whatever he is sending me is bound to be good.

And now, I wait...

Motto

I'm not sure what inspired the spontaneous text from Antares, be it the fact that he already "paid" me for my company with lunch, or whether it was being unable to go shopping the day before with the kids being off school, which was quite a surprise. (And consequently also a government holiday).

At work we're scheduled to work until 8:30, even though the clinic closes at 8, but last night I spared no one, finally telling them that I HAD to go around 8:10 p.m. After all, Antares lives about 15 minutes past work, and the stores close early during the week.

I called him as I was leaving apologized profusely, and explained that I was on my way. When I got there 15 minutes later, I should've realized what kind of night it would be. He greeted me with, "Oh you didn't even have time to change...?"

No, I didn't. Nor did I think to grab street clothes. Do scrubs really make someone look less than appropriate for stores?

Of course it had less to do with me, and my wardrobe than one might imagine. Earlier in the day he had told me of a situation that went down the day before. Apparently Antares has a friend whom has kids. She needed to run some errands, and she left the kids with Antares to play with his kids while she attended to her errands. Well she got back and brough mini bagels for the kids to make pizza bagels and time flew by. Soon, it was time for Amanda to pick up the girls, and the woman and her kids were still there. Amanda flipped out and started saying how she didn't feel comfortable having the girls around the woman that he was dating and her kids. One small problem: he's not dating her.

Regardless of what I think of the entire situation (and I pretty much feel like they're both adults, and they've split. They're getting divorced. Eventually he's going to date, and she may or may not have kids. If she does, then eventually he's going to introduce his kids to her and/or her kids if she has them. Not to mention that they're both adults which means they can both make decisions about the kids and whom is considered "good people". And being split means placing that trust in the other parent to use good judgement around people that may be considered "strangers" to the other person.

Apparently when I showed up he was still reeling, and what should have been an enjoyable opportunity to shop and buy presents, turned into tears, and lots of distance between us.

When we got back to his house I refused to get in my car and leave, and we ended up hanging out. Never undestimate the power of touch and the inevitable honesty that will come with it. And by touch I mean a simple back rub. How much more comfortable it is to talk to someone when there is no eye contact involved.

He told me of how Amanda never let him buy presents, and anything he bought was never good enough, and the supposed "flaws" he has.

We talked about everything before falling asleep. Especially how his knee-jerk reactions keep him at a distance from people.

For example, when he couldn't go shopping the day before he assumed I'd be mad at him for forgetting the kids had off from school. Was I disappointed? Absolutely. But mad? Not at all.

I'm hoping our conversation at the very least served to open his eyes to seeing all the things that made her not good for him, and making the next person he chooses to be with the opposite of that.

All while not getting attached...this is my motto...

Getting My Groove Back

Today I've been feeling extremely guilty. What I'm doing, with Antares, always weighs on my mind. The fact of the matter is, it's not going the motions, the physical aspect of things that leave me feeling guilty, leave me reeling. It's the emotional. It's being able to see myself with Antares under other circumstances. Under any circumstances.

It's the mixed signals he gives me. I see what's happening. I see him leaning, and I'm torn between being his friend, and knowing I'll be his rebound girl. And of course there is my loyalty to Chris.

I can sit here, and attempt to justify what I'm doing to people whom can't relate. The fact of the matter is that I love Chris. And when I'm with him, I'm 100% there. I've been committed to this relationship for the last year, and I continue to be. And I will continue to be.

But I know me. And I know that if I sit on my hands for the next 3 years then not only will I have wasted 3 years, but I will also be bitter. And then all of this waiting will have been in vain. So right or wrong this is what I need to do. For my sanity, and for our future.

And I guess maybe today I got a little too caught up in the fantasy of being with Antares. After all, he's never made a move to suggest that he's interested in anything more than our casual relationship. Certainly now will be the start of that. He's asking me things like, "whether this is too casual for me", and whether Chris and I are in a relationship. And he tells me things like he's jaded about marriage, but not opposed to living with someone long-term.

So I fell smack on my face when I logged into my e-mail this morning, like every morning, to find that we wouldn't be shopping this afternoon. He had off, because of the government holiday, but neither of us stopped to think that the kids would be off.

I wrote him back a short e-mail silently cursing myself for not thinking that if he had off, and it was considered a government holiday, the kids might as well. And I cursed myself for getting my hopes, diverting from the plan.

I got an apologetic text that left me in tears. Really, when did I turn into a person that needed to plan out her whole life? To know exactly what's going to happen when? When did my life depend on a man to have something to look forward to?

I am definitely feeling that while I'm not Stella, I need to get my groove back, and get my emotions back in check.

Never Underestimate the Power of Touch

Tonight I had made plans to meet up with Antares after work. Amanda, his soon-to-be ex was picking up the kids at 6, exactly at the time I was scheduled to get off work which would be perfect timing. The plan was to yet again, attempt to go Christmas shopping.

As it turned out, my doctor wasn't busy and decided to go home early. All to glad to have some time off during my 9-day work week, I happily left. I gave Antares a call to make sure we were still on, and to see if he was going to be hungry. He told me he had late lunch, and to go ahead and eat. So I head to Southpoint Mall intending to do some more of my own Christmas shopping, and ended up in Champ's eating, drinking beer, and watching a close game between the Colts and the Steelers.

We met up somewhere between the 3rd and 4th quarter, and decided to cuddle up on the couch waiting for the time to pass. As we were hanging out Jaime called and invited us over. The plan was to skip the movie, and just go over there.

When we got there, we met up with Jaime and Megan, and Megan's coworker friend, Jason. While he was upstairs, Antares made a joke that led me to say, "I think that's the gayest thing I've ever heard you say."

Not longer later, we were sitting out on their enclosed porch, drinking, talking, and everyone smoking but me, when I looked over and it occured to me that Jason was batting for the other team. So much so, that he made the fruity waiter at Olive Garden when I told Josh about Chris look like a straight-laced dude.

Sooner as opposed to later, it became obvious to me, why Jaime had desperately wanted company. Megan and Jason would talk about work, and while she usually mentions it, it's generally not the only thing she talks about. Furthermore, not having someone to understand her inside jokes there means she needs to explain the stories a bit more.

I've heard more about the term "pannus" than I ever wanted to know. (Go ahead, google it. It's not pretty). Certainly if I were entertaining the idea of becoming a nurse, especially an oncology nurse, then I would be changing careers. Between all the pannus, and the smell of female vaginas in cancer patients, I think I don't even want to add oncology to anything but my hell no list of specialties.

We cut the night shorter than we usually would. The funniest part was by far was hearing how Jason's significant other was home sick in bed. Jason, being the well-meaning significant other, was in the kitchen making chicken soup when suddenly he was there no more. And then he gets drunk with Megan, and can't go home.

The best part of the night was post-Jaime and Megan's house. We headed to bed almost immediately, for a back massage. Luckily for him, I was in a giving mood, and reciprocated. The back massage that is. We talked a lot during the process, somehow it's easier to ask tough questions when you're not able to see the person's face, but to hear their voice, and read their body language. When it was time to sleep, he stayed close--holding me the entire night--a rareity for him. For a man whom generally tells me, "Okay, I'm going to flip over," he stayed close the entire night, instead forcing me to flip over to allow my then-asleep arm to wake up.

The next morning led to our usual morning routine of romp, shower, and coffee, but with a few surprises added in. We had time to just chill before getting up, and I just allowed myself to revel in touching him. Not sexually, just normally. Never underestimate the power of touch.

Then he made me breakfast, kissed me goodbye--outside for all of the neighbors to see, and we went our respective ways to work.

And now, I can't help but feel something changed. Especially since he's asking me what it is about Chris, and whether or not we're really in a relationship.

Not Your Typically Friday Night...

I hate being on surgery team at work with a competent doctor and an almost-empty schedule. For one thing, it almost guarantees that the doctor will want to leave early, leaving me with nothing to do in the afternoon. I'm one of those people that won't call out without paid time off, instead dragging my almost-dying ass to the car, and into work. I may need to wheel around on one of the those fancy-dancy office chairs, but dammit I'm there.


Being the go-getter that I am, I talked Trish out of staying on her team so I could work with one of my pals. Being that she started relatively shortly before me, we definitely don't get to work together as much as I'd like, but that's probably for the best.

We broke for lunch at 12:00. I waited for Antares whom I told me to surprise me food-wise in what was his attempt to repay me for a service that to this day has been foiled down to the last minute: Christmas Shopping.

Sitting with the two of them outside of work at a picnic table scarfing down chimichangas was worse than being on a bad date. They're both important to me, both friends, but as work and my personal life mess, I'm watching it like a bad train-wreck. I swear I couldn't help it, and there was nothing I could do to intervene.

A comment about it being 5:30 p.m. before we left work (which I thought was a sarcastic remark), and a quick kiss goodbye ended the whole ordeal rather too quickly. After all, towards the 30 minute mark, they were certainly making progress with complete sentences!

As it turned out though, a full afternoon kept us running around like chicken with out heads cut off. It had us dealing with difficult clients at the end of a long-day that should've ended hours before. As one of my other work friends put it, "Are you working tonight too?"

"Nohooo," I said.

"Oh."

We finally left there at 6 p.m. 2 hours past when we were supposed to leave, and only because the doctor ran from the building as her husband was going to "kill her".

I do not go out in scrubs. Some people find them terribly relaxing, but for me it's more like walking around in pajamas all day. For one thing, I feel like I can never get anything done, but for another, I certainly don't want anyone I meet to see me in them. Without them, now that's another story.

First we got caught in rush-hour traffic, which I'm usually fortunate to avoid. We finally made it to my house (a 40 min drive) an hour an 15 min later. A few minutes of playing with kitten, and a quick wardrobe change had us back on the road.

We went to a pool hall about 40 minutes past work in the other direction, near where Melissa lives. I was assuming it to be a dark, swanky place that served maybe 3-4 draft beers and never heard of mixed drinks like, "Sex on the beach". She told me they served food which I assumed to be steaks, maybe cold-cut sandwiches and the like.

So imagine my surprise when we pull into the parking lot of something the size of a TGI Fridays, and head inside. We grab a table and are greeted with Southern service. A sports bar, with a list of 42 draft beers. Some will make you laugh. Others will make you laugh so hard you cry. And some you've heard of. They have a decent size bar, and unattractive people the way a bar tends to collect them. They have a row of round tables, then two rows of booths on both sides of a short wall before 6 pool tables on display.

The menu is a lot to talk about too. Trying to pick just one thing is damn near impossible. Order two different things and split it. It's as easy as that.

Shortly after consuming food like we hadn't eaten in a week and finding our stomachs not nearly matching the strength of our hunger, we took a look around and landed on a guy I can only identify as being really good looking. He was olive-complected with dark black hair, and some nice big arm muscles. His stomach curved in nice and taut--enough to make you want to see him without his shirt. And more every time he bent over.

We inconspicuously sent a drink over there with strict instructions for the waiter not to tell the guy who it was from.

In time, we were approached by a man whom was not the one we sent the drink to. Melissa, deciding to don scrubs, attracted the man to her. He talked about his dog, and her unfortunate encounter with heartworms. He thought since we were hanging out in the area, that we worked close-by.

Eventually he invited us to shoot pool. He was playing with two other gentleman leaving me the odd-man out. I fully took that opportunity to size up the room, and the competition.

As it turned out though, Melissa is quite the pool player, and ended up taking on the two guys by herself!

The guy and I sat there talking. He told me about his son (whom is almost my age, but I guess that's what happens when you man up at 17), his divorce and why I'm not approachable in bars.

"You'll smile when someone says something funny," he says. "But it was Melissa's friendly smile that brought me over. That and my dog."

He demonstrated, putting a scowl on his face, sipping his beer, and looking around. Frankly, he looked pissed. And he knew it.

He showed me how easy it is for looks to become misinterpreted. So if you ever see me at a bar, we will inevitably make eye contact. I will probably look away, and if I'm interested, look back. Again. And I will try to add in a smile just so you know I'm not pissed off at the world.

Peyton and Cardboard: A Post Not About a Man

What is it about cardboard that is really so exciting? This is the question that keeps running through my head as Peyton bounds about the apartment, jumping on her scratching post that is a mere piece of cardboard.

To continue to encourage her good scratching habits (i.e. not the underside of my box spring, or the carpet which I'm positive I'm so graciously providing the next tenants with indirectly via security deposits), I sprinkled some cat nip onto it, and that makes her crazier.

It makes me happy for a fleeting second when I think about how I almost came home with a more expensive version of the same thing. Cheaper is better for me, but simpler always seems to be better. A lesson in life folks.

But then I think of the kitty gymnasium I built for her (not really, it's made of plastic), and like the toy you no longer play with, I feel a little sad. And then maybe a little guilty because maybe, just maybe we won't have to have the declawing conversation again.