Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Welcome Back.

Clouds parted.

The sun cut through the thin layer of dust on my bedroom window panes.

I leaped from my bed, threw open the shutters.

Two little bluebirds fluttered in and I sang a very cliche' Disney-esque song as I raised my arms as they put a robe on me.

Also, a unicorn served me breakfast.

Yes.

I had sex.

I'm going to say that again for all the skimmers and also because it bears repeating.


I had sex.


Let me backtrack a bit and explain how this came to be.

* * *

A quote from my best friend Leo is an appropriate way to start things off:

Leo: Where do people meet people? Everyone is in a fucking relationship... I'd like to see the sociological stats/bar graph on where people meet. At least for our age.

I complain about this constantly. It's really fucking hard to meet people, especially if there aren't any prospects at the job and you don't have any help from your friends trying to set you up.

Despite popular belief, I didn't create this blog to meet girls. But as time went on, well... it was almost inevitable. I mean, there are some pretty brilliant fucking people in the blogosphere and a girl that is witty in writing is going to get an eyebrow raise. They just kind of happen.

How Bloggy Romance Works:
A Universal (and fucking toolish) Flow Chart


Read blogs > Comment exchanges > Emails > Gchats > Social Networking Access (to judge/stalk photos) > Phone number exchange > Phone calls > Meet up


That is how I met Beth.

Beth, unfortunately, shares the same name as another alias I had in my past. But, well, what can I do? It has been written.

* * *

After the natural progression of things, Beth booked a ticket to fly out to stay with me for a weekend. Shit like this doesn't scare me or intimidate me; a girl who is willing to take a leap with you and do something so incredibly insane/spontaneous is a good sign in my book. It means she's just as into you as you are of her.

I was incredibly nervous. Not to meet Beth. There wasn't any surprises from my end; she's just as funny, cute, and smart as I thought she would be. But my real fear was the anticipation of having a girl stay over at my place for an entire weekend.


Shit I Had Forgotten About But That Make Up "The Good Stuff"
  • Walking out of the shower to find a girl laying on top of your bed in a messy ponytail, wearing your t-shirt and in her undies checking her email from a laptop
  • Seeing multi-colored bottles of shampoo/body wash in your shower
  • Girl smell lingering on your pathetic pillows
  • Grocery shopping with a girl on your arm
  • Have a girl legitimately laugh at all your shitty attempts as jokes

And I don't mean to always "wax nostalgia" about my ex girlfriend Lynn all the time, but it's really the only thing I can compare things too.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't knocked back a few times during the weekend when things like what I just listed above didn't bitch slap me. Weird flash backs of snapshot-polaroid-esque memories I had of Lynn. Like someone reeling back and smacking a fire extinguisher across my dome.

It's embarrassing to admit, but if I'm going to be honest here... it happens. The main reason being: I thought that I'd never be able to have these experiences (see: bullet points above) with someone else.

It's nice to know that it actually is possible, because it's a very real fear (during that period of your life) to think that it can't ever happen again. I have the weekend to prove it. So... to all the So@24s circa 2007... take note.


I had some encouragement from my friends along the way:

Maxie's chart:



And, of course, what would a landmark So@24 post be without a great 3-way gchat convo between Leo, Jack and myself? Look at how much respect I get from these guys:

Leo: I can't even imagine you having sex. I'm actually trying, bizarrely enough. It just comes out wrong.
Leo: Like an Escher illustration. Looks okay, but something's definitely going on that isn't quite right.
Jack: I tried and it was like a confusing cartoon. But with old Batman sound effects.
Leo: And the occasional clown horn.

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