TBID and I are IMing at work while I edit an interview I did with J.C. Penney, my mom’s go-to retailer when I was a kid, which never had anything that looked good on me except for those high-waisted Bongo jeans.
Posts under ‘Lurve/Luff/Like’
This is how we do it
Almost every Friday, I gear myself up for the weekend by listening to Montell Jordan’s “This Is How We Do It.” I bob my head and sing select lyrics, like, “It feels so good in my hood tonight…”
Serious business
TBID was visiting recently when nature called. He’d been working on some computer stuff with me and would need to take a bathroom break. The long kind.
The rubber anniversary
For our one-year anniversary of knowing each other, which I know is not the same as a one-year anniversary of dating or being boyfriend and girlfriend (you know we’re not going there), TBID and I wanted to do something new. There wasn’t much time to plan anything too extraordinary, so we needed something local.
At dinner that Friday night, we still weren’t sure what to do. A trip to Rhode Island was suggested. I’ve never been there, and I’m not sure what one does there. But someone does something, and I have a camera and a good companion! It was an idea.
Skydiving was also being considered. Because nothing says “I love you,” like getting strapped to a stranger and then jumping tandem out of an airplane. And potentially crapping your pants. We can’t forget that part of the milestone.
One-year sentence
As of Saturday, it’ll be a year since I sat across a table from TBID for the first time and thought, “I am so not ready to date.”
I said as much, too.
Still, he gave me a peck on the cheek and IMed me at work. The second time we saw each other, we’d been hanging out a few hours before I got all typical and asked him what his name is. His full name, I mean. He’d shared his first. I told him mine, too.
We’d go days without seeing each other. He’d ask me out, and I’d tell him I’d prefer to stay in. I continued cleaning my apartment on Friday nights and listening to heartbroken music, which usually sounds better than music about people who are in reciprocated love.
Three things bloggers can do with men
Stephen Stills of Crosby, Stills and Nash said, “There are three things men can do with women: love them, suffer for them, or turn them into literature.” The same goes for men.
I broke up with the Upper West Side
This Wednesday will be the one-year anniversary of my breakup with my first long-term boyfriend in New York, really my first long-term boyfriend out of college. Amazing things have happened since I kicked his ass to the curb, so the event will be celebratory. It’s got me thinking about how quickly times passes, especially when you’ve broken up…with a neighborhood.
Tinkering around Boston
Sometimes you meet someone and you fit like you’re Tinker Toys, and all you want to do is stick your parts together and see the world. (This simile is not intended to be pornographic).
Flailing in love
TBID on our ice-skating adventure in Staten Island: “I was afraid I’d break my arms. Not from falling. From flailing.”
Holiday-in-waiting
TBID is coming to Texas to meet my family in three days. I’m anticipating all the usual questions and lags in conversation and such. It’s been at least three guys since I brought a romantic interest home to eat my mom’s cooking and awkwardly talk about the economy.
