and the weekend has just begun
Today I am going to write about love, because I am deeply and hopelessly emerged in it. This love is quicker than goopy quicksand drenched in peanutbutter.
I realized this yesterday when I got an IM from my hon announcing that it was "date night." For no special reason, just because. I didn't question it or ask for classification or clarity. I simply agreed, signed off and started to madly clean the house. Our place has been in a state of horrible, overwhelming almost crippling disarray for the past two months because of travel and transition and business and laziness. The task at hand was large. I did three loads of laundry, two loads of dirty dishes, vaccumed, tidied the bathroom and somehow managed to fit in some gardening. When you have a date at your place, always clean. It show that you care about appearances and helps keep your mate from getting distracted by cobwebs and dirt. Then, they can focus on nothing but your enchanting beauty.
Next I had to make something for dinner...but what? I took inventory of the available ingredients and made note of the things that would combine well. I settled on a Mexian casserole, layering polenta, black beans, seitan, corn, spicy pepperjack cheese and refried black beans in a casserole. A side salad of mixed greens and heirloom tomatos would accompany the giant casseroe. I had to run to the store for the cheese and a few other extra touches. Damn that was a lot of food. Chips and guacamole for an appetizer, with a stiff vodka martini (the best way to start any date). Step aside, Wonder Woman. I have thrown my invisibe lasso all over this apartment and achieved super hero status.
When she arrived home at 6:00, she stopped at the front door then assumed a runner's on-your-mark-get-set-go position. Pausing for three seconds, she then sprinted across the living room and dining room directly into my arms in the doorway to the kitchen. Simply adorable! We hugged long and hard and it felt wonderful. After five years together, I still feel the same giddy excitement each time I'm with her, like it's the first time. After all these years, I still think about her all day long and still look forward to spending every night with her. Especially in bed. Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself.
I put on some skin tight, magenta pants (no underwear) and a hoodie. She quickly slipped into some pink, silk PJs. We ate dinner in comfort by candlight. We listened to music and shared some wine and talked about her day at work. My day was pretty unproductive in a work sense, since all I did was cook and clean and garden. We gorged until we were both so full that it hurt. Then, I ate what was left on her plate. We had more wine and discussed our dream home and plans for it. The whole time I felt relaxed, happy and warm.
The really cool thing about being with your dream girl is being able to keep the utter and complete focus on one person. No one else could come along and distract me, no alternative is even slightly tempting. This is a surprising and amazing feeling. I mean, my odds are pretty fucking fantastic since she is my first and only dream girl. Score! What in the world did I ever do to deserve this? Maybe there is such a thing as karma? I'm the kind of person who does the right thing most of the time in the name of being a good person (and not to some invisible god or because of guilt or in an attempt to earn bonus points for easy access to heaven). I once found a brand new digital camera in its box laying by itself a row in front of me on the airport shuttle. The owner of the camera was chatting on his cell phone and didn't check his seat when he got off the bus to catch his flight. I took the camera up the bus driver. Maybe my reward is this life? Maybe?
After dinner, more wine and conversation. We talk for hours and hours and never get tired of it. Eventually, we landed in the best spot in the house and engaged in some of my very favorite activity. I hope she doesn't mind me revealing that, but hey--it's a date story. Everyone knows how dates end. It was a mighty happy ending. I realize that this post is much more open than it should be. It almost doesn't fit with any of the content here on the Zesty Armpit Dance. It might even constitute as a cheap thrill to some stranger our there, but tonight I don't really care. It's the beginning of the weekend, and here I am with the real thing while some poor soul is alone and reading about it on the Internet.
Hey poor fool, there's someone out there for you too. I really believe that. I think all of us have a match and it may take a very long time to find it, but they are out there...somewhere. Just allow yourself to be open to all possibilities.
Happy Friday to all and to all a happy Friday!
I realized this yesterday when I got an IM from my hon announcing that it was "date night." For no special reason, just because. I didn't question it or ask for classification or clarity. I simply agreed, signed off and started to madly clean the house. Our place has been in a state of horrible, overwhelming almost crippling disarray for the past two months because of travel and transition and business and laziness. The task at hand was large. I did three loads of laundry, two loads of dirty dishes, vaccumed, tidied the bathroom and somehow managed to fit in some gardening. When you have a date at your place, always clean. It show that you care about appearances and helps keep your mate from getting distracted by cobwebs and dirt. Then, they can focus on nothing but your enchanting beauty.
Next I had to make something for dinner...but what? I took inventory of the available ingredients and made note of the things that would combine well. I settled on a Mexian casserole, layering polenta, black beans, seitan, corn, spicy pepperjack cheese and refried black beans in a casserole. A side salad of mixed greens and heirloom tomatos would accompany the giant casseroe. I had to run to the store for the cheese and a few other extra touches. Damn that was a lot of food. Chips and guacamole for an appetizer, with a stiff vodka martini (the best way to start any date). Step aside, Wonder Woman. I have thrown my invisibe lasso all over this apartment and achieved super hero status.
When she arrived home at 6:00, she stopped at the front door then assumed a runner's on-your-mark-get-set-go position. Pausing for three seconds, she then sprinted across the living room and dining room directly into my arms in the doorway to the kitchen. Simply adorable! We hugged long and hard and it felt wonderful. After five years together, I still feel the same giddy excitement each time I'm with her, like it's the first time. After all these years, I still think about her all day long and still look forward to spending every night with her. Especially in bed. Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself.
I put on some skin tight, magenta pants (no underwear) and a hoodie. She quickly slipped into some pink, silk PJs. We ate dinner in comfort by candlight. We listened to music and shared some wine and talked about her day at work. My day was pretty unproductive in a work sense, since all I did was cook and clean and garden. We gorged until we were both so full that it hurt. Then, I ate what was left on her plate. We had more wine and discussed our dream home and plans for it. The whole time I felt relaxed, happy and warm.
The really cool thing about being with your dream girl is being able to keep the utter and complete focus on one person. No one else could come along and distract me, no alternative is even slightly tempting. This is a surprising and amazing feeling. I mean, my odds are pretty fucking fantastic since she is my first and only dream girl. Score! What in the world did I ever do to deserve this? Maybe there is such a thing as karma? I'm the kind of person who does the right thing most of the time in the name of being a good person (and not to some invisible god or because of guilt or in an attempt to earn bonus points for easy access to heaven). I once found a brand new digital camera in its box laying by itself a row in front of me on the airport shuttle. The owner of the camera was chatting on his cell phone and didn't check his seat when he got off the bus to catch his flight. I took the camera up the bus driver. Maybe my reward is this life? Maybe?
After dinner, more wine and conversation. We talk for hours and hours and never get tired of it. Eventually, we landed in the best spot in the house and engaged in some of my very favorite activity. I hope she doesn't mind me revealing that, but hey--it's a date story. Everyone knows how dates end. It was a mighty happy ending. I realize that this post is much more open than it should be. It almost doesn't fit with any of the content here on the Zesty Armpit Dance. It might even constitute as a cheap thrill to some stranger our there, but tonight I don't really care. It's the beginning of the weekend, and here I am with the real thing while some poor soul is alone and reading about it on the Internet.
Hey poor fool, there's someone out there for you too. I really believe that. I think all of us have a match and it may take a very long time to find it, but they are out there...somewhere. Just allow yourself to be open to all possibilities.
Happy Friday to all and to all a happy Friday!
posted by Freewendy @ 5:31 PM
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