I frenched a guy last night! It was 95% perfect. His tongue was a little harder than I like, but everything he did with it was sensational!
I've said for a long time that kissing is what I miss most after not having been with anyone. Henry couldn't kiss well. The last guy who could was ages ago, like December '04. This was just the fix I needed.
I was so over my crush on the usher captain. That is, until last night.
When I first developed the crush at the end of the summer, I decided to take the advice I've read in so many advice columns: embrace the crush, indulge in the silly fantasies, and eventually the crush will burn itself out. It worked, but now the flame has been rekindled.
Last night we talked for about 20 minutes about work and travel. He told me that his job frequently gives away free products and he offered to bring me some. I told him my brother works for Frito-Lay, so I'll bring him some snacks in exchange.
Later I was remembering how excited I got once when he said, "You and I will handle this side." "You and I!" It was so hot! While I was standing there thinking of that, he said, "You and I will come down the middle," and touched my elbow. I thought I would pass out! I also used to like when he said my name. Goofy, I know. Last night he whispered it after the second collection, calling me to go to the back with him and put the money in the safe.
Of course, I want to read extra meaning into all these things. Like, why did he hold my hand during the Lord's Prayer but not his wife's? Why did he have me go to the back with him instead of one of the 3 other guys there?
I'm going to have to start all over. Embrace, indulge, extinguish.
I kept my word and went to confession this afternoon. I thought I'd be smart and get there early to beat the crowd. I was so wrong. I arrived 10 minutes before the start time and was #11 in line! What are these college kids up to? Okay, don't answer that. They're probably up to much of the same things I was up to in college. That's part of the comfort of going to confession at work: there's no doubt the priest has heard some juicy stuff and won't be shocked at what I have to say.
Anyway, I barely made it in. I was the last one the priest heard, and there were 6 people behind me. Ironically, when I committed one of the sins I needed to confess, I said to myself, "Oh, well. I'll just go to confession." It took me almost six weeks. I will never take this sacrament for granted again.
Why do I keep putting off going to Confession? I'm not embarrassed. I don't even have anything that horrible to confess. Sometimes I lose track of time or forget. Other times I come up with excuses. I did go about a month ago but the line was so long that the priest didn't have time to hear all the confessions. I haven't received Communion in over a month. I've missed the last two First Fridays (I was trying to keep the "Nine Fridays" Sacred Heart devotion).
I had planned to go to Confession tonight, but I'm already undressed and in bed. Tomorrow night I could go before Bible Study, but I don't want Fr. John to recognize my voice. Excuses, anyone? I'll have two opportunities to go on Friday at work. I think I'll try the 4:00 because I think Fr. Philip does that one, and I've never gone to him before. If for some reason that doesn't work out, I'll go Saturday afternoon. I'm determined to go before Sunday.
We've all been there.
By 'there' I mean: you don't really like the guy, but when he blows you off, you're all "What the hell? I can't believe he stood me up. How dare he not like me when I didn't like him first?!"
Patrick is gone. He sent an email the day after the phone call saying it was a pleasure talking to me. I haven't heard from him since. True, I didn't respond to the email, but I don't think he'd be the type to take that as some signal of my uninterest. I think for his own reasons he decided to end our correspondence. That's actually fine with me. Better than fine, it's great. But I still wish I could tell him that he turned me off long before I turned him off. I guess the truth is I had the chance to tell him and I didn't. For now I'll have to believe that since I'm making no effort to contact him and find out what happened to our date, he'll understand that I don't care that he's gone.
I know Lent is a time of penitence, but I don't think it's inappropriate to say I'm enjoying it this year. I have seriously neglected my prayer life in the last few months. The special observances and devotions of this period of the Church year are helping me to refocus, and I can see what I've been missing.
At work each Friday, campus ministry is offering Lenten Lunches. We meet in silence; have soup, bread, and water; and listen to a priest read from Thomas Merton's Thoughts in Solitude.
I decided to take on something this year rather than give up something. I'm going to the Stations of the Cross every Friday night. The reflections are so moving and each one has relevance to my daily life.
I hope the next six weeks will help me to get back on track spiritually.
Patrick called last night. You're asking,"Why did she give him her phone number?" Yeah, that's a good question. I gave him my number because I'm a nutcase. I already knew he had sex on the brain, so why did I think his conversation would be anything different than what it was? I think I thought I could somehow keep him in check, keep the dirty talk to a minimum. Instead it was like a metaphor I heard in church once: adding ink to water doesn't clear up the ink, it turns the water inky.
We talked for about an hour and a half. The first part of it was okay, but then we started asking each other various sex questions. Almost like a truth-or-dare game without the dares. He started it, but I have to admit I didn't try to stop him and I had some pretty risque questions of my own. The problem that I had with it was that he took every opportunity to mention how this or that will be when we have sex. He's so confident that it's going to happen even though I told him my stance on casual sex. It got to be a turn-off.
Well, to confirm my stupidity, I'm supposed to go out with him this weekend. We don't have any firm plans. He just said that he's planning to come to Dallas either Friday or Saturday. At first I was excited. Now, not so much. It wouldn't be horrible to have drinks and dinner with him. I'd just really like to be done with the whole thing.
If I ever post or answer another ad on Craigslist, please knock some sense into me.
