This Christmas was awkward as ass

This Christmas was awkward as ass. No other way to describe it. Egads it was trying.

A little background before I set this up: am divorced now for 5 years and for the most part get along well with my ex. We share custody and try to make things nice for our daughter. He recently got married to a woman who lives 4 hours away with her kids of her own from two previous marriages. Whom he met, I might add, a mere few weeks before I met began dating Ivy League.

I did the following things over Christmas Eve/Christmas Day to please my daughter and yet torture myself:

Christmas Eve Day - spent time with my daughter and her new stepsister
Christmas Eve- Mass with my ex, his new wife, her kids, my daughter. One big family. Confusing as hell the other parishoners.
Christmas Eve- Party at my ex in-laws (my ex's father and stepmother) with the above mentioned folks and more from my ex's family. Introductions at the party were a lesson in detante.
Christmas -Opening presents with my ex, his wife, her kids and my daughter in a hotel suite. (My true what the fuck moment...)
Christmas -Two more hours with my ex in-laws (without my ex husband and his new family) so that my daughter could open all her presents. Nicest part of the the two days, but upon reflection seems odd.
Christmas - 30 min conversation with my ex's MOTHER who quite honestly never liked me but now dislikes her son, my ex, so much that she calls me to talk.

I am fucking WORN OUT. This postmodern extended family crap is highly overrated and very very tiring. Foreign service protocol work is easier than these two days.

One non-ex bright spot: Christmas afternoon with my rock star, shared-birthday friend and her family. That girl rocks (in so many ways!) and saved my sanity that day, and it was truly truly generous of her to open her family celebration to us.

It all began when my ex husband and his brand new family came into town - unexpectedly- at the last minute. I was planning on going to church at 7 and then going to a party at my ex husband's father's house (obviously still get along well with the ex-in-laws) on Christmas Eve. I offered to back out of the party and let them attend with my daughter, but they both (he and his new wife) insisted that I go.

So Christmas Eve day. My daughter returns to the house to get ready for church with her new step sister in tow. I tell my ex that this is fine - as long my daughter is happy I am glad to watch both girls and bring them to church.

But it hits me 30 minutes later. I am babysitting my ex's new stepdaughter. This is just weird.

Sooo we head out to chuch, me, the daughter and the stepsister. 1 hour early because Christmas Eve masses are so crowded at this church. We take a seat in the back row and I proceed to daydream and people watch. I am not that into mass. I have serious issues with organized religion in general and my own separate issues with the Catholic Church. But I like the incense and creepy Saints statues and crucifixes, the rituals oh the rituals, and man I really dug that DaVinci Code. Oh that was about an alternate view of the church and christianity wasn't it? Hmmm. Whatevah. Anyway, I digress.

Observation 1: Catholics do not dress well.

Observation 2: Catholics at this chuch are, for the most part, not attractive people.

Let me begin by saying there were no hotties anywhere except for a 17 year old boy in a suit about three rows away. Barely legal and I am, unfortunately, truly old enough to be his mother. This church holds hundreds and no cuties in sight.

And the clothing! Catholics look uncomfortable in their dress up clothes. Its like they try, and they are on the right path, but they just don't quite look good enough. (Squint your eyes for effect while saying this - like they come sooo close but ahhh sad to say bless your heart, no.) Like the cute girl in high school AP English - cute but not hot, the hair not quite right but not wrong either, the clothes very Kohl's or Target, and the walk in high heels is not up to par. She dates the football kicker perhaps, or a soccer player, but never the quarterback.

I think Episcopalians and Jews dress the best (more money and taste) and Baptists the worse (those horrible uptight suits that still have shoulder pads in them from Belk.)

I am thinking of these things to keep my mind off the fact that I am saving seats for my ex husband and his new wife, due to arrive at church at any moment.

So they arrive, and we all hug and say hi and the kids are all lined up and I am, very tactfully, sitting next to the new wife. (BTW I purposely dressed up and looked hot for this. I was not very interested in my ex when I was married to him, and even less so after I left him, but I am indeed competitive. It was a good look too, by the way the suburban dad in the other back row was staring.)

I always try to figure out families around me - who is the dad, who is the uncle, etc. - while mass is going on as it keeps me from thinking about the mindless banter of the liturgy, and I would imagine the parishoners around us were confused if they play that game too. Who belongs to who?

My mind wanders to Ivy League. Mmm mmm good. What is that absolutely delicious guy doing with me??? That boy can eat crackers in my bed anytime. Amen! Sex on the kitchen island. Pray for me lord! Making out in a parking lot. I am not worthy! It goes on from there - I had a lot to choose from to think about where he is concerned.

I expect lightening to strike me at any time.

What Happens in Cary Stays in Cary

Hello Wednesday!

Yeah...facing the regrets of a night like that on a Wednesday morning. Tough. Tough. Makes for a long week.

Ivy League had gotten mad. Rightfully so on most things but on others I think he overreacted. All of that aside, I should not have played that game and we should not have gone to the strip club.

We did not go to bed angry that night though. Won't bore you with the details but he is a very very very sweet man. Emphasis on sweet.

I woke up sheepishly the next morning thinking OMG I went to a strip club and played pass the Altoid. In the cold, sobering light of day the previous night's activities seemed very stupid.

This horrible feeling of regret did not last long. The phone texts and instant messages from the game players started before 9am:

Me texting my birthday friend: Dude wake up and get on IM...
Birthday friend: Shit that was nuts last night

Birthday Friend: This was a case of WGOOTRSOTR
Me: Wha???

What goes on on the road stays on the road

Me: So Cary is now the road for us? We were four miles from home...

PTA Male player 1:U there?
Me: Yup
PTA1: Wow you girls are rock stars. This is the most fun I have had on a Tuesday night ever.
PTA1: We must take this show on the road...

Ugh.

PTA Male Player 2: Got mints?
Me: LOL. Glad you can laugh.
PTA 2: Laugh - last night was great. Pass the Altoid should be an olympic sport in 2008.

Funny how reconnecting with the players was cathartic and made everything seem a little better and little funnier. However, I was still filled with regret.

Got mints?

Birthday celebration last week. Lots of fun. You only turn 29 as many times as you can claim. I share the exact birthday of one of my close work friends - down to the half hour. Same day, same year, same hour. Do we ever get along! And we celebrated together last week with some work friends.

So we did shots at a local place with a pretty good size group. That was tame enough. Jager shots. My friend did tequila. She nursed tequila shots, but I digress.

There was a small group of us - about 10 - that wanted to go to a gentlemen's club. This is tricky with co-workers, especially at such a conservative company - but the small group seemed game and the two birthday girls were up for it, as well as two other girls. So with a 40%/60% ratio of women to men in our group we headed out.

All of us girls were good and drunk heading there. This should have been a warning as to what was coming later in the night.

The guys were excited to be going - and to be going with women co-workers. Somehow I think this was exotic for them. Most of them are married. Hell everyone in the group but me, Ivy League and another guy is married. So a trip to a strip club is welcome hedonistic fun. A trip there with attractive co-workers has the potential to be downright erotic.

Not sure it was erotic. It was fun and perhaps weird.

So we get there. The dancers were hot. And they really dance at this club. These girls work it and I respect that. We got seats right up front, and proceeded to buy shots (which came with a short lap dance) right away. Both Ivy League and I got shots from the same brown haired hottie in bra and panties.

Ivy League purchased a lap dance for my birthday friend. She thoroughly enjoyed. That was fun for the co-workers to watch. A little girl on girl action. Yum!

Ivy League was into the whole place, and jonesing for a lap dance. I was a bit jealous, but not so much so that I wouldn't buy him a lap dance. I think its just an equality thing.

He was like:
You are okay with this?
And my response was:
As okay as I can be when a mostly naked girl who is younger than me, who has a better body than me is dancing all over you.
Him: You need to be bigger than this.
Me: I think I am pretty big. I am purchasing this dance. But give me a little jealousy. Damn.
Him: You brought me here.
Me: Yes, and I am buying you a dance. But don't condescend to me about being big about having this woman who is SO HOT and SO SEXY and SO NAKED and SO YOUNG and who clearly has NOT had a baby dance all over you. I will be big when you can be big about a younger stronger man with a better chest and a longer dick who can clearly kick your ass in a bar fight is dancing all over me naked.

He didn't really see my point at all. What he heard in that last comment was me saying that I could go out and find this man and sleep with him. This is not my point. My point was, give me some jealousy, understand it, empathize with it if you can imagine yourself in my shoes. I'll get over it quick if you can just respect it.

Again ladies and gentleman, I was there, in a strip club. Willingly. And willing to fund his private lap dance. And he wanted to enjoy it completely guilt free and I was mad at him for asking me to be bigger about it. I think quite frankly I was pretty fucking big about it to begin with. I let him pick out the girl too.

But again, I digress.

I goaded him into the dance. Called him a pussy which was so wrong but my point was, dude, me, your girlfriend, is buying. Take the private dance.

So he does.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, er the cocktail tables at main stage...someone in the group gets out an Altoid. Pops it in his mouth. And has a brilliant idea.

The official Pass the Altoid game begins.

It begins so quietly with a guy in the group passing it quickly via a tiny kiss to my birthday friend. She proceeds to pass it, more seductively, to the other girl in the group that is left at this point in the night. (Besides me... I am still there but not actively participating. Just watching.) It goes around to a few people, then one of the guys wants to pass it to me. By this time, this is full on french kissing while passing the mint. This has reached a certain unspoken level- that moment when enough people bought it and did it willingly that I was faced with being the party pooper to not continue the mint on its oral journey.

Do I do this?

These are my co-workers.

I barely know three of them. They are all married.

The man I love would not like this.

But....

The man I love is in a private room getting an extra long lap dance from a 22 year old hot brunette.

I jump in. I am not one to sit around and steam. I am also not one to turn down a dare, and this was a big ol dare.

So I kiss this inital person. It is a little funny, a little sexy, but it means nothing. I pass it to someone else. A little more interesting. One person in particular was almost erotic. I kissed every remaining person there - both women and the women were the best by far- and that mint was not getting any smaller.

At this point the crowd around us is cheering. Odd behaviour for a strip club. We had ALL our clothes on but we were having fun.

So in the course of 5 minutes I intimately and repeatedly kissed six co-workers. EGADS. Holy bad ideas Batman.

The crowd making noise got somebody's attention in the back booths. Apparently, Ivy League stood up in the middle of the lap dance - he said the stripper was like wha? - and looked out at our tables. The conversation, I would imagine, went like this:

Stripper: What's wrong - I am not done. I still have to grab my breast five more times and hover over you with this fantastic ass of mine for 3 more minutes for you to get the standard dance.
Ivy League: I have to go
Stripper: (Still gyrating, no doubt, but with a puzzled look on her face) Huh?
Ivy League: My girlfriend is kissing my co-workers
Stripper: Ah then. Have a good evening!

He returns to the table with his free Strip Club t-shirt and proceeds to get really really mad.

Really mad.

Did I say really mad? Well, he got really really mad. At me. He had seen me kiss two of the men.
The game ended because it was like dad returned home.

So, as he got mad ("What the fuck are you doing?????You are kissing coworkers!!!!????") I was like, dude you don't have a leg to stand on here. You just had a 10 minute lap dance with a mostly naked 22 year old in a private room. That your girlfriend paid for. Hello! Don't get mad about Pass the Altoid. I got over the lap dance real quick with help from these kisses. You should be thanking these guys. And girls. I am in a better frame of mind in just 5 minutes. Brilliant game, really. Brilliant mint.

He didn't think so.

Will write more about the aftermath later. But it wasn't pretty and involved a lot of yelling at me.

He's all that and a bag of chips!

My boss is having me do chart audits. A horrible task, but unfortunately, low patient population presently. So, I have time. UGH! I decide to do my audit in Auburn's unit. A tedious task and some of the questions were obscure and wasn't sure where to find the information. Luckily, Auburn offered to be my knight and shining armor...ahhh! He helped me answer a lot of questions and then the chart had to be used. It was nice sitting next to him for such a long time....He offered to help me finish it the next day. What a guy! Well, today I decided to finish as much as I could by myself and these were easier questions. So, I finished it with asking only a little assistance from him. Later, he stopped me in the hallway and told me that he had been in a meeting and was singing my praises to whomever was in the meeting. LOVED IT! Am I on his mind? I think I'm starting to crack his code....I also found out he does all the laundry, cleaning, cooking, and running his kids all over the place....WOW! I didn't think men like this existed. His wife has it good!! AND she cut her hair short!! STUPID GIRL! Who wants to go to bed with that? I KNOW he doesn't. He's said, she keeps cutting it shorter. I would never. Even when I'm 80. That curly, kinky granny hair will not find it's spot on my head! My husband thought that all old farts had to do it. I said, It's ugly and I'm not doing it. My fear is not getting old, but looking it. I'll fight it to the end!!!

Hottie vs. hottie

Saturday night was eventful.

Ivy League and I were out on the town and ran into 15 co-workers. I guess we're not so secret anymore.

We then went dancing, and while on the very small dance floor at this downtown bar, I notice Sales guy (mr. rolling stone tix, mr. send a limo to waffle house) out on the dance floor with a very cute 20-something hottie of his own. I figure he will see me, and see me dancing with my hottie, and this will end his pursuit. (Which has been pretty relentless btw over the past few weeks. I just haven't had time to write about it.)

Either he:

1. Didn't see me
2. Did see me and doesn't care
3. Did see me and cares and still wants to try and get a date with me

because first thing Monday morning I get an IM from him:

Him: I am here all week. No travel.

Me: Good for you

Him: Can we sneak out for a drink? (editor's note...it is 9:30 am at this point)

Me: You are relentless

Him: When I see something I want...

Me: My boyfriend probably wouldn't appreciate

Was there a pithy comeback? A smartass remark? Nope. There was SILENCE. No more IMs for awhile.

Until 3:30pm...

And he's asking if my guy is going to be at the work function next Tuesday. Ugh. He doesn't quit.

I didn't tell him that my hottie works here too.

Even Closer Quarters

So to continue my story about the delicate art of going number two while traveling with your hottie...

The hotel was actually the easy part of the trip.

The hard part was the house we stayed in the latter part of the week - on older home with small rooms and sketchy doors. The bathroom that was located upstairs near our bedroom was so tiny that my head almost hit the ceiling - and I am height challenged - but that's not the worst part. The doors off the bathroom were louvered (with slats) closet doors that opened out - just inches from the toilet. You could sit on the john and sort of look out into the hallway or the bedrooms. And the lock was simply a latch that connected the two doors from swinging open. No fan either. This was so problematic it wasn't even funny. I imagined myself sitting there with my jeans around my ankles, concentrating, trying to be quiet (please please please don't make a lot of noise) and having the doors swing open and me JUST DYING of embarrassment.

The look on hottie's face when we saw this room told me he was thinking the same thing. So I said:

I was paranoid about the bathroom thing and taking a dump this week but this is ridiculous. I don't know what I am going to do...

He laughed and said there are other bathrooms in the house and we'll be fine.

The funny thing is I wasn't fine for like two days. I just couldn't go. And I am not an uptight girl about these things. There was no Starbucks to escape to (we were out in the country) nor was there really anywhere to go besides the woods (egads!) so I was stuck.

Close quarters

So I am back from my trip out west with Ivy League over the holiday. I did miss that I was not going to see London for the week but did not miss Yorkshire Hottie. I had plenty going on to keep me occupied.

The week went very, very well.

The hotel was very swank and our room was nice.

But here's the dilemma. Traveling with your new boyfriend -and there's only one bathroom and its small and you are together for 7 days. How do you gracefully take a dump without him knowing?

It's near impossible.

There's the Starbucks option. I left him asleep and walked a block south to get an Egg Nog Latte and used the facillities there.

I also managed to wake up really early one morning and take one when he was still asleep. Phew! That's two days down.

More on this later - need to run to a meeting.

The BEST Man, yumm!

It has been an uneventful week. Too much time off! I should love to be home, but I get stir crazy and have to get out. Did the interview with Auburn and I did not listen to myself. Wore pants and a well fitted sweater which was hot enough. I was noticed. He made eye contact several times during the presentation and again, I emailed my evaluation of the presenter. He sent back, " Thanks for your input!" I have not seen him since, bummer! I keep thinking this is taking entirely too long, but I need to know if he's worth it. Gotta be, hope so, getting bored. Too many people off last week, at least this week will be normal!

My husband was a groomsmen in a wedding we went to yesterday. He looked fucking great. Unfortunately, the best man was on fire. So delicious. Tall, fit, with a shaved head and goatee. DANGEROUS! The best man was the groom's brother and friend of my husband's so OFF LIMITS to say the least. I have seen pictures of him and I THOUGHT he was a complete nerd. SURPRISE, SURPRISE I had something nice to look at during the ceremony. My husband introduced me to him and he grabbed my hand (at my fingers), not a full hand shake - like he was putting me in my "womanly" place. I don't like those kind of handshakes. I like full on palm to palm with a strong grip. Such a disappointment. I've realized he reminds me of my HI guy who I found out will be back at the beginning of the year. CAN'T WAIT!

Corporate Diva has been out of town. I MISS YOU CDIVA!!! (as do your fans....)
Please blog, and tell us about your trip with Ivy League!!! Please...

My evaluation

Yesterday Auburn asked me to help him with an interview. This is NOT a requirement for my job, nor do I have to answer to him. However, I agreed of course. The "interview" was to critique someone's speech and visual presentation. The presentation lasted an hour. I usually don't have that kind of time, but it was an usually slow day for me. So he lucked out. During the interview, Auburn strategically postitioned himself to sit across the room and diagonally to the left of me...probably the perfect view. Not too obvious to catch several glances directed my way....the speaker is in the front of the room, sir. So anyway, the interview ended and everyone is giving their evaluations to Auburn. I decide to blow the place and find my friend who just got an awesome boob job. I'm sure he was wondering, where is the evaluation from me. I decide to email him my eval. I did this at exactly 2:55 p.m. an hour or so after it was over. And then I call him to tell him what I've done. Auburn answers his phone, "yyyeeeeesssss!" (in his deep and sexy voice...it practically vibrated in my ear....mmmmm!) and I tell him I emailed the eval to him and he says emphatically, "THANK YOU!!! You were the only one who gave me exactly what I needed!" I'm thinking- no, not yet...I looked under the properties of my email to him and it was opened at 2:57p.m.- a little anxious, are we?!....So today he tells me how wonderful I am and that the next interview is on Wednesday and "I NEED you there!" I tell him, "Sure, wouldn't miss it." Note to self.....show a little leg next wednesday!!!

Bushy Brows was on the prowl today. I was successful at avoiding him yesterday. Told me I was one of the sexiest women in the hospital and then questioned what I had on under my skirt. Needless to say, he's thinking thigh highs with garter belts. Later he saw me in the hall and I had just changed for my run - a disappointing 2 miles with such perfect, cool running weather too....So now that he's seen me in my under armour, he wants to be my running partner. The last guy I ran with ruined another perfect friendship by falling for me...he called me his "beloved" a few too many times. Bushy brows says I shouldn't be out there running in the dark all by myself.....I'm likely safer without him chasing me. (and he admitted this to me as well.) Before we go our separate ways, he says be careful and kisses me on the forehead. Sweet, huh?

One major mistake I made today....I didn't go to a conference tonight. Auburn was likely there (DAMN!) and the doctor that spoke is single and a hottie(DOUBLE DAMN!!). The problem with doctors are, they all think they're hot. Even the dorks! But this guy, no dork and I have heard he's nice. I haven't dealt with him much. I should probably start dealing.

The pole did exist

I did indeed go to that party way out in the suburbs (farther out evuhnnnn than I live) just to see if the people really had installed a stripper pole for this late night. We didn't venture out towards the southwest part of town (beyond Cary - egads!) until after 1:30, but it was fun in that we are being obviously ironic sort of way.

They had indeed installed said pole. And only one girl was using it.

This puzzled me. The party was one of those suburban late nights where you have all range of people. RTP corporate workers in their 20s. People who worked in a gym. Real estate developers. Service industry people in their late teens to mid thirties. A former soccer player from UNC (also a mom) who was a bartender. She had me beat as the oldest there (thank god!)

None of the young girls would go near the stipper pole. I don't get it. They all seemed so slutty and made for that pole. But they were pretty timid when it came to doing anything bolder than wearing revealing clothes.

I used it once or twice, and now want one in my own house. (Future house, not current. Need a basement or something for this...)

Random sampling of conversation tidbits that I experienced:

Lamest Opener/Pick Up Line: "So, you are in your thirties..."
Surreal Moment: 17 year old discussing her SAT scores with me as well as her GPA. (I had to walk away.)
Overheard in the kitchen: "I don't know where she is but there's a line of puke across the deck..."

There was lots of alcohol and we stayed til almost 5. Ridiculous. Other than the pole I really didn't need to be at that party. When will the madness end? But like everything else, I made it a good time - as did Ivy League. We laughed all night at the people around us and at ourselves for being there.

So the trip to England to see Yorkshire Hottie is off. And I put off and put off telling him. Finally an email from him regarding hotel reservations forced my hand, and I wimped out and sent him back and email telling him the news. Told him I had met someone locally, that was very special, and it just wouldn't be right to go. Told him I had a fabulous time at the wedding and would never forget him.

He wrote back the next day:
I would be lying if I said I wasn't totally disappointed. Was really looking forward to the week. He is one lucky man...

Lots of Love,
XXOO

So he ended it like quite the gentleman. Will miss him but man have I got my hands full here.

At least he didn't CUP!

Life at the hospital has been busy. Flu season is starting and so is Auburn's interest in me. This, is the name I have given tall hottie. Huge fan, need I say more?! He HAS to see me everyday, or he will seek me out. Today, he came down to the ICU and found me. Didn't stay away for long and even put his hands on my shoulders and rubbed as he was talking to one of my friends. The words coming out of his mouth sounded like the teachers on the Peanuts (i.e. I have no fucking clue what he said). I just kept thinking, wow didn't even have to look up at him and I'm getting all this attention! I had seen him upstairs BRIEFLY. It was not my intention to see him as I did not have time at the moment. I had a mission which was to get my ass back down to ICU and work. Got side tracked by two other admirers. One of whom is moving out of state next week. He told me I needed to get all my hugs in now. Then this other guy comes in the office to hug me and actually touches my ass.....!

Me: "That was my rear-end!"

Him: "It was? Are you sure?!"

I show him where he rubbed and say, "At least you didn't cup!!" This dude would do me in a NY minute and if I was remotely interested in bushy eyebrows, it might happen. I also know that he is sort of used. Had a fling with one of my friends (she said he was awesome in bed...) when his wife was pregnant.....I always think...Ooohh, gross. But then have to remember that CDD's wife is pregnant. My conscience gives me a split personality, I swear.
So, anyway...Back to my story...When I'm having a discussion about where bushy brows put his hands, Auburn comes out of nowhere and pushes me full body into the wall (damn too bad there were people around...there is even a bed in this office for surgeons to sleep on ...) and seconds later, I get paged and gotta go. At least I know I'm making headway. One of these days, I'm gonna blow his mind and say, I just want to kiss you full on the mouth and press my body against yours. (Likely, he has not experienced this type of behavior....) His kind of flirting is what I experienced in the 5th grade. Things have gotta change!


Things with CDD are DEFINATELY on the backburner. He was supposed to be in town this past weekend. Have a guy bonding weekend or something. Apparantly he and his buddy come up every year and go to this place called Wild Bill's. It is a dance club/bar. Sometimes they have bands. .38 Special played there in May. Anyway, he said he would call with the details last Tuesday. Never heard a peep. He's afraid that he'll fall for me....at least that is what he says. I don't care b/c I always think of his preggo wife and I am otherwise occupied.


Things with hubby are awesome as always. Too bad I need all this damn attention........

A stripper pole in Apex

I think we did convince the co-worker to be hush hush. Her recommendation to me was that if I didn't want people to know we were dating, then perhaps we should not leave the house.

I think to myself that I like the idea of not leaving the house. Just having a whole bunch of sex with him all the time and not going anywhere is not a bad plan. But alas, I do need to make a living and I like going out and so does he so we'll have to fit the hot sex in where we can.

After the game, we go to a local hangout of mine, a place he's never been, that is sort of loungy and smoky. He likes it. Didn't realize Raleigh had places like this. (Who the hell has he been dating????) We sit on the couches and get drinks, and some other folks come and sit on the opposite couch.

We eventually start chatting with these two guys and a girl, and they tell us stories about Vegas (which we love) and then about the party they are having the next night. And then, randomly, they tell us they are installing a stripper pole in their house for the party.

That's hot.

And I say that. Out loud.

Ivy League looks like he's just won the lottery. He's like, "Oh my god, I get to date you! And you love the stripper pole. How lucky am I?!"

We make plans to go to the party the next night. Not sure at this point if these are drunk plans or if they are real plans. Drunk plans are ideas that seem like a great idea at 11:30 on a Friday night after three stoli vanillas. Yet, when re-examined on Saturday at noon you are embarrassed to even consider them. God how did I ever think that was a good idea?

We leave this club and our new found drunk friends and head to my favorite dive bar in downtown. I am driving, so I have been behaving myself with alcohol consumption (or lack thereof) but Hottie's well on his way. Bunny and the cowboy boyfriend are at the bar (yeah!) but the band completely sucks. Worried that Ivy League won't get my ironic love of the bar - the unfanciness of it, the fabulous jukebox, the crazy clientele. But yeah he gets it, and he's comfortable and proceeds to do a shot with Bunny (yeah - get him drunk!)

We run into a lot of people that night at the bar that know my ex fiance, but there's no awkwardness with me, they all seem happy for me and willing to stay friends. Lovely.

We leave after last call, and he's tipsy. He almost falls asleep on the way home, so I am convinced that there will be no action when I get back home to the suburbs.

I was wrong. Intense. Freaky. Lovely. That man is an athlete and sex is his sport. 'nuff said.

Time goes by so slowly (no it doesn't!)

I love that new song by Madonna. Must have watched the video on Virgin.net 10 times in the past week. Need to just go ahead and download the song to my iPod.

Sooo a lot has happened since I last wrote. I'll have to share random moments from the past two weeks rather than tell the linear story. (Both work and travel have gotten in the way of updates this week. I hate doing two jobs at once...)

After the Friday night where Ivy League met my daughter, we went out on a date that Saturday night. Started off at the Rockford for drinks - he had been there once and wanted to go again - and we also both wanted to go because I had heard (via my telephone gossip network) that my ex-fiance was there on a date. Ivy League's reaction to that was dude let's go and face him down. Might as well get the whole run into each other with our new people thing over with as it is bound to happen in this small and socially incestuous town.

Alas the ex fiance was gone when I arrived.

So we are sitting there at the bar with our bourbon and cokes and he somewhat randomly makes the statement:

I made some calls today...

Me, thinking, but not out loud: Good for you, using the telephone like a big boy. Push those buttons.
Him: And I told some girls that I wouldn't be calling them again.

Well alrighteeee then. Not at all expected. Hello commitment.

Usually its the girl that brings up the whole are we exclusive or not. He wasn't doing that directly, and he wasn't asking me to do anything. So it was a pretty cool move on his part to just get it out there and say hey, I am concentrating on you and just you.

I loved it. I had been thinking this, but had not acted upon it. I was, in all honestly, enjoying the attention from others. But I was aware of falling hard for this guy - really hard - like high school fairy tale hollywood movie show up in a limo and save me from this life and let's run off together and live in a hut on the beach in Tahiti sort of falling for. The other distractions and hotties in my life were there to keep me sane about him, and keep my confidence up.

The rest of that night was comfortable and full of sparks at the same time. We went to a private party where Bunny's boyfriend's band was playing -they were fabulous and sang a hilarious song about a blue Cadillac that had me and Ivy League just dying laughing. Bunny looked hot in her cowboy hat and mini-skirt, which she managed to get stuck in her thong coming out of the bathroom but which we quickly spotted for her (I doubt anyone else saw as people were pretty wasted at that point) and corrected. In typical fashion she laughed it off which is what makes her so wonderful to be around.

We went to a CD release party at a local club after that. And I got drunk. Surprise surprise. Told him I was falling in love with him. (Dumb dumb dumb.) and he said me too. (Egads.) That awkwardly hung in the air til we drank some more and then forgot about it and Bunny's ex-boyfriend talked Ivy League's ear off.

Bunny came walking over to me late in the night, after many shots, and in hugging me, we managed to fall down. Splat. Me on top of her. Her reaction? She just laid there and said, "We fell down." embarrassing. But this is not the first time we've landed on the floor together!

Thankfully, Ivy League was in the bathroom.

The next day, Ivy League asked me to go to Vegas with him again the week of Thanksgiving, even knowing that I have that UK trip planned. Indeed I was falling hard for him (and had prematurely said the I love you thing the night before) and I was realizing that perhaps London was not a good idea. I agreed to go, and told him that I couldn't go to London. Told him about Yorkshire Hottie, and he was flattered that I was giving up something to go with him to Vegas.

I made him a CD (DORKY) before I left for Palm Springs on Monday. The trip out there was fabulous - the event I ran went very well and was quite a bit of work and nervousness for two days - and when it was over I had some time to take advantage of the spa and the resort until I had to fly out the next day.

I think Ivy League missed me, as he wanted to see me when I landed Wednesday night at 10. He asked me what I was doing for actual Thanksgiving and proposed going to his sister's house.

Holiday travel. With family. This guy, when I knew him tangentially, was SUCH the playa. What is going on here?

The next weekend Ivy League and I were supposed to go to Miami together, but Wilma prevented that. So we planned a weekend in town together, or mostly together.

Friday night we went to a hockey game. While walking to the ATM(and away from Ivy League) my Yorkshire Hottie called.

Hmmm.

This has become an issue. I no longer live for the emails or messages or when he rings my mobile. I do miss the whole accent and the hello gorgeous and the idea of a hot British guy liking me, but the reality was that I really liked this guy here in town, this all-Americans male that's super smart and hot and maybe not quite as cool as Yorkshire but a much better fit overall.

I chicken out and say I have a bad signal and can't talk. I don't call him back. Weak! Lame!

Back at the game, Ivy League and I sit down at our seats (awesome seats - this guy totally knows how to plan dates and impress) and we notice a co-worker - one of the rare people we both know - sitting just two seats in front of us.

We look at each other, all deer in the headlights and panicked, and think oh well there goes keeping our relationship secret at work. She gets up and says hi to me, and I am quiet and acting suspicious because I am waiting for her to notice who is sitting next to me, and she's just chatting away with me. Then, many sentences into the conversation, she happens to look over and totally naturally says, "Hello XXXX."

Then, she does a double take, and you can see her brain working and the confusion and pseudo disappointment on her face.(She no doubt has a crush on him. All the single girls at work do. I can't blame them, I do too. I'm just the lucky one sitting with him.) And she looks at both of us and says,"awkward moment..." and leaves to get her beer.

We just laugh and wonder if we can convince her to stay quiet about it.

Travel is getting in the way of my blogging

As I am buried in work with the new job, and, added to that, have had to do more travel in the past few weeks, the blog has not been updated regularly. I promise to catch up soon. A sneak peak:

Last weekend Ivy League and I went to a party in the suburbs based primarily on the fact that the hosts had built a stripper pole in their family room. Fun!

I had the best sex of my entire life (and I have had a lot) last Friday night. We all know who with. I got Ivy League a bit tipsy that night and he still performed!

Yorkshire Hottie has been calling a lot, and I have not been answering. Damn I feel bad but I've happily committed to Ivy. Must have that awful conversation about not coming to London to see him.

To quote Robert Smith: It's Friday - I'm in love

So Thursday I leave Ivy League hottie's building flying absolutely high - new job, saw the hottie twice today. Today was a good day.

But it gets somewhat better due to random Thursday night hottie moments.

I attend an alumni event that evening, connect with some people that went my alma mater who are older and younger than me (alas there was no one from any of my four years there) and also got to the meet the new college president in a very intimate setting. He seemed a little smitten with me, lots of looks during his speech to all of us directed at me, and he kissed me goodbye with a an open invitation to come visit him at the University any time.

While there - I got some very congratulatory texts from Ivy League - sweet, excited, supportive of my new job. Asking me to call him later (hmm I thought for sure he would have a date on a Thursday night.) So I call, and we talk all the way home while I am driving.

We then proceed to talk for over 2.5 hours that night. He says:

So we are going out on Saturday night. I suppose that means that I need to find something to do on Friday...?

Hmmm. Loaded statement. Several ways to respond:

Psycho: No - sit at home and think of me and nothing else til I am free.

Way too open minded but at the same time realistic: Yes - please go out and have an amazing time with any of the other (most likely younger and less encumbered in the baggage department) girls you see at this moment and I'll try really hard to not be thinking about all that while I am at home alone watching Hope and Faith in my suburban tract house eating rice cakes and drinking vitamin water. I really am cooler than all of this.

Cool and aloof - I seriously doubt that will be a problem for you and I also doubt you want to come hang out in the suburbs with me and my daughter.

Well, it occured to me as the synapses were firing in those few seconds that he was perhaps fishin' with his original statement, and he wanted to catch the latter part of response number three, so I put it out there.

And I was right. Long story short - we decided through almost an hour of talking - that that was the right thing to do. I summed it up with this statement, built on very carefully chosen words and tone:

I think, perhaps, before either one of us gets (long pause out of nervousness) any more (another pause) emotionally involved, you need to see that side of me and we need to see how the dynamic works between the three of us. Because you see cool single girl and you see hard at work girl but you haven't seen the mom side and its a big part of me. You may not like it, or you may dig it immensely.

His response was perfect:

Agree. You chose your words exactly how I would have said it...

To make things more crazy, during more conversation, we decided to go to Miami for the upcoming (Friday next) week on our first out of town trip together and stay one night with my sister. This shit is bananas.

So Friday I wake up full of anticipation and thinking I am beyond smitten...

No THIS is the best week ever

I have been traveling, and have much to update on. I have not updated in over a week...

So last week I had the psycho garage door incident. Wednesday during the day last week was not terribly eventful. I did see Ivy League Hottie that day when he was in my building for a meeting - walked by my desk three times. Yum.

That night I watched Batman Begins with my ex from 10 years ago. Nice time. Comfortable. We talked about the women in his life, the dates going on in mine. It was a nice night. We kept stopping the movie to go sit on the patio and drink wine and smoke.

Ivy League hottie called twice that night and I did not call him back, mostly because it was so late when the ex left, but also because I just wanted to see if he missed me. I knew I missed him, and felt somewhat stupid and vulnerable for being in that state.

No strange garage door issues on Wednesday night. Phew! I still had not taken the time to learn how to change the code on the door - movies and drinking wine got in the way.

Thursday begins like a normal day. Work. A quick ping from Ivy League:

Him: hello?
Me: Hi!

But then we got disconnected or distracted and the conversation did not go anywhere after that.
Around 11, I am in one of the most important meetings of the week, and he pings me again. Do I answer or do I ignore and pay attention to the meeting? I can do both - so I answer:

Him: Hey there
Me: Hi
Him: How are you?
Me: Fine - sorry I didn't pick up last night. Had friends over to watch a movie...
Him: Oh that's fine. This is going to sound sort of silly but I have really missed talking to you these last few nights.
Me: Not silly. me too (Note: my heart starts to hurt a little, in a really good way, at seeing these words)
Him: yeah?
Me: yeah - big time
Him: Wow that is such a relief to hear/see you say that.

So we chat around on other things some more, and I decide to go out on a limb b/c I feel like he needs to hear this and I want to say it:

me: I miss you
Him: Me too. More than I thought possible at this time.

And that's it for the morning. That afternoon, I find out I need to go over to Ivy League's building to pick up some equipment. I head out the door and get a great phone call from a VP, offering me the job I have been interviewing for, with a good raise and a promotion and its all good. All good.

So who do I run into in the parking lot of his building? Yup - him. Looking incredibly handsome as usual. I don't want to go into the building, I want him to get in my car so we can drive til we are far away or at least in a bed somewhere. I tell him about the job - he's happy. We walk together through the halls, making chit chat about meetings and things we have to do. Its so odd to be businesslike with someone who has seen you naked. I am doing my best to be casual. But then he says:

I want to let my guard down and really talk to you. That and I want to push you up against that wall right there and kiss you.

It was like he read my mind. I walked into that meeting very, very flustered.

Please allow me to introduce myself......

I'm sure you thought I was never going to sign on. Well, here I am. I work in healthcare, hence the name Hospital Diva (HD).

I am married with two boys. Have long brown hair and hazel eyes. The fact that I am married does not deter men from flirting with me, liking me, wanting me. A lot of the time I think "give me a break, I wouldn't put my marriage on the line for you!" and other times I think "you are too damn good to miss!!" I love my husband but for some reason his attention is not enough for me.

I have had 3 flings in the past, one is still presently going on with a cutie dept. director(CDD). I have also had a doctor and male nurse who I remain friends with. I will likely share some good stories of the past with them as well. One moved to CA and the other is in HI. One thing I will say, men who work in healthcare really know what to do with their hands!!!! mmmm!

I have not seen CDD since June when we went to a Braves game together....incidentally, I live in GA. I remember having serious hottie moments with him in the car when someone yelled across the parking lot...."get a room!" We mistakenly parked next to the Hank Aaron statue. If you're gonna fool around, this is not the place to be. People kept coming by and taking pictures!! CDD is also married and we are a lot alike. We wanted to get a room and have discussed the possibility often. We have made an agreement to try our best to not have actual sex; I don't think I could look myself in the mirror if I did. We are planning a meeting in Nov. It sucks having to plan so much, but he lives 2 hrs away. It is okay though, I work with a lot of men... one I am extremely interested in, but it will take months to work on this guy.

He is tall, super hot, and seems really fun....there is much I could do to this one. He is also married....good for having someone on the side, preferable even. Who wants someone pining away for you and turn psycho and ruin my life? Wouldn't do it, not me! We'll see what happens.

Psycho

This will be a very anti hottie moment entry today.

I fell asleep early last night - around 10:15 - which usually means I wake up around 3;30 b/c I tend to only need five hours of sleep. And I did indeed wake up around that time...

So I am watching tv - Something's Gotta Give for the fifth time - and I hear the garage door open.

No way.

Panic.

This is not a regular occurence. My garage door does not automatically open on its own at any time of the day, and especially not at 3:30 in the morning.

My ex fiance has my automatic garage door code programmed into his car and I have not yet figured out how to change that - so I know this is his work.

I am scared but not frozen - I do have two dogs in the house this week (am watching my ex husband's dog for him) so I head downstairs as I hear the door opening. I open the kitchen door expecting to see his car, or him and expecting him to also be drunk as it is 3:30 am which was his usual return home time after a night of drinking.

Nothing. There was no one there.

So he did a drive by, opened my garage door, to see if I was home.

This explains Sat night/Sunday morning phone call from the private number - I bet he came by my house on his way home from a big night of drinking (Barrister's Ball was Saturday night) and opened the door and I was not there and so he closed it back and called me.

Whatever it is - this is creepy. I know that I will be fixing that garage door code on Friday or Saturday....

Smitten

Monday

Better this week than last...

The day begins with a busy round of meetings. I am playing catch up on email but get about half of what I want to get done finished before noon. I know that Ivy League hottie will be in the building around 1 and this has just made my day.

What am I, in junior high again?

Yes I am.

I am booked at 1 when his meeting is, so I figure I may not see him. The hour goes by, he's not on IM, and I figure oh well.

I ping him around 2 and he tells me he's still in my building, working in a cubicle two rows over. Am dying to see him - just to see what he's wearing - but I am stuck in a meeting. He asks where I am, and I tell him the conference room number.

Five minutes later he walks by - and he flashes a smile and gives me this look as he passes the room, this look that says I know what you look like without your clothes on and I like it and I wish you were that way right now and let's leave this building and drive somewhere and get those clothes off you. He's all dressed up in dark pants and a blue shirt and my god he is just the hottest thing I have ever seen as he walks away.

I send him an IM that I know gets there before he reaches the desk:

Me: NICE
Him: You like? I dressed up for you
Me: No
Him: Yes, I wore this great outfit on a day when I wasn't meeting with execs - all for you
Me: Dude I would drink your bathwater
Me: You can eat crackers in my bed
Him: I am laughing out loud right now

I go back to my meeting but I can't concentrate. Damn this guy has gotten under my skin.

Later...

Him: R U there?
Me: Yes
Him: I am still here in your building
(I am thinking to myself perhaps this was his plan all along)
Him: Where is your office?
Me: Not in there...will ping you when I leave this meeting

I get a text message from him at 5:

Interested in a quickie? LOL

Heck yes!

But then, nothing. I sit at my desk for like 15 minutes. Shit, why did I say yes. He was obviously kidding. Carpe diem getting you in trouble again. Idiot! Idiot! I leave and go to my car. I decide to call him when I am 5 minutes away from the office.

Me: U suck! You can't put that out there and then not respond to me!

Him: You didn't get my text asking you to meet me in the parking lot? I sent you two messages right after you sent me the yes.

Ohhhhhh. Lost text messages. Wonder how many of those I haven't gotten.

Long story short. We make plans to meet at his place for take out and Monday night football. I get there and we're naked within 3 minutes and getting crazy in his living room. Nice. Not like I couldn't see that coming. We eat, we work on our computers for 2 hours (how geeky but I got a lot done) and we watch the baseball game and football game.

He says he is smitten, and I tell him I am too. So there ya go. Whatever smitten implies, that's what we are.

Yorkshire hottie calls when I am there - I don't care.
Ex fiance sends a cryptic text message ("I understand if you don't write back. You were right about everything. Have a nice life.") and I don't care. Can't deal with either right now.

We have another round at 11 (nice nice very hot nice can't even write about it as it was so nice) and I leave b/c I need to be up early.

Attractive People Get Better Service at Krispy Kreme

Ivy League and I left the piano bar and headed to Krispy Kreme. Alas, they were closed. Hottie managed to speak with the girl inside, and told her we would give her 20 bucks for a dozen.

She agreed, partially because of the money but partially because he is so damn cute and charming.

So we got our donuts. Ate three of them before we left the BP in Mordecai. We also managed to make out a bit while pumping gas. Lovely sight.

Back to his house. A little Sportscenter, a little Skinamax porn. 5 minutes later we are having fun on his couch.

I decide to sleep there rather than leave. I held his hand for awhile as he fell asleep. Bad sign girl. You aren't keeping your distance.

I leave at 7:45. 1 missed call - between 3 am and 7 - who the heck would call then? Good news sleeps til noon. Booty call was in bed with me. That leaves the exes (recent fiance or ex from 10 years ago - and ex from 10 years ago isn't afraid to leave his number at any time.) I know exactly who this is....

I go home. Can't sleep. Big fun but also tough day. Horseback riding with my daughter. 5 hours in the hospital with my friend G and her daughter who is sick with appendicitis. Broke my heart to see her in pain.

Short call with Yorkshire hottie - who somehow forgot I was attending Def Leppard even thought I told him Thursday. He was pissed in the British sense - drunk - when he called me. I am wondering about this....

Two messages from Ivy League:

Tx for the ticket - great time

Smokers cough - feeling sexy today

Yummmm I would drink his bathwater. We IM with each other late in the day. Most memorable message:

I was drunk enough to say those words and sober enough to think them and mean them. I wouldn't trade last night 4 anything.

He says he will be in my building for a meeting on Monday. A meeting he set up, on purpose, to try and see me briefly. Lovely. Something to look forward to...

Later that night I got a invite for drinks from my 10 year ex (Wednesday night at my house - innocuous really...no big deal) and broke the date with sales hottie due to the appendix incident with G's daughter - he was very understanding.

Also a text from my recent fiance ex:

Thinking of you.Hope all is well.

Is it evah!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is soo good that I am not going to respond.

Pour Some Sugar on Me

Thursday night date with Ivy League went very, very well.

But Saturday night was just loads of fun.

We began with me picking him up to bring him to the Def Leppard concert. Yes, you heard that right. Def Leppard. Absurd and cheesy, but I love that band. I got a lot of. "My god you are so hot" comments from him. This is honestly the best thing to hear. I loved it.

As we were walking to the Will Call booth, a crowd of guys called out to me and said, "We have one reserved seat - ditch that guy and come with us."

My reply: "Not a chance."

We got beer, but didn't rush in because Bryan Adams was on stage. We stood in the food area and talked and drank. A comment from him worth mentioning that threw me:

I'm willing to take this on - dogs, daughters and all. (He's allergic to dogs. Daughters we aren't sure about yet.)

So we go in - and we're watching Bryan Adams sing "Summer of 69." And Ivy League is watching me. Of course, he catches me looking at him (Sweet Jesus that profile!) so we're doing this weird flirty appreciation of each other.

We're holding hands, listening to "Heaven" (wow that takes me back to 9th grade and all that that implies) and this is soooo cheesy but yet so sweet and nice. I just go with it. We laugh at ourselves but nobody is making a move to stop that says I am too cool to be doing this.

We head back out of the amphitheatre while Def Leppard sets up. Somehow, the UK comes up in conversation, and I mention the whole "I am going to the UK next month" with the best nonchalance I could muster. He says, no kidding - when and why? So I explain that I like to do something interesting when my daughter is with her dad over specific holidays - so as to not get sad about her not being with me - and I thought a trip to London for a week to visit friends would fit that bill.

And so he says, "Damn. I wanted you to come to Vegas with me that week. But wow London. That's cool. "

CRAP. I just bought that damn ticket. As good as it was to sound very cool saying I am going to London for a week, now I have the pleasure of missing out on out of town travel with him. My friend S and I discussed this two weeks ago when I was pondering the trip - and she did warn me that this could happen.

I didn't have to act disappointed at missing out on a trip with him, I think it was obvious. But we both laughed and said, ahh its for the best. He explained he wanted to ask me about this last week but was not sure how to do so, since we have only been on a few dates.

I am very giddy about this.

We end the conversation with him making this cryptic remark:

If anything changes on your London trip, my offer still stands.

Now, I may like him a lot at this point. In fact, I know I like him too much. And I may not be as balanced about him as I need to be, but I am damn sure I am going to London b/c the ticket is unrefundable and its LONDON. Nothing is going to change on my London trip.

We go back in and watch Def Leppard. Fun fun fun. Lots of mullets in the crowd. Good people watching. Joe Elliott is still very hot after all these years. Hysteria plays and I think of Yorkshire hottie (who has been incommunicado a bit since the purchasing of the UK ticket.) "Love Bites" was a good song to dance to. "Photograph" is the best song of the concert for me, but the crowd loved "Pour Some Sugar on Me". We are on our feet the whole time, and Ivy League seems to genuinely be having fun.

We leave, make some new friends in the parking lot who give him beer, and like total dorks listen to the post concert calls and Def Leppard songs on 96 rock. So fun.

We head to a dueling piano bar downtown (his choice but this could not be more perfect) and proceed to have even more fun. He gets wedding drunk, and is very, very smiley at me. (God he has beautiful teeth.) He's talking, and I am watching him, and I realize that I love who I am with him - this weird mixture of being comfortable and exhilarated (mmmmm chemistry.) This combination just has not happened with me before.

He's so into PDA and being flirty and happy. This guy is not the playa I thought he was. He keeps looking at me, and finally says:

I really, really like you. There's so much more I want to say but I am afraid you won't process it or that you will take it for granted. I'll leave it for the next time we are together.

I don't know what to say. He's sitting there with his liquor drink and a cigarette in his mouth and his hair slightly graying on the sides and he's looking like a movie star and I am feeling like I have lost this battle about him, that I am not going to be able to be cool anymore, that I am invested in this, that this is the male version of me that has been missing all my life. Timing sucks but oh well.

He sees me looking at him and processing all this in my vodka addled brain and says: Don't fight this. Embrace it.

So my reply is: I am in this. Do you understand? In this.

He smiles...

More later, as the night didn't end there.

This guy can eat crackers in my bed

So Tuesday night I come home, and my sister is staying with me an extra night (whoo hoo we rarely get time to hang out and be ourselves so this is very, very cool.) I decide to go running to blow off some steam and work on reducing my waistline.

I return to the house and apparently my phone has been ringing off the hook. Ivy League called:

Hi...wanted to see if you wanted to get together this week. *Sniff* Call me back when you get a chance...

Damn. I listened to that message three times. Idiot! Sad sad sad state I am in. Need to remind myself that its been only three dates. I do not know this guy.

I call him back.

Him: Do you want to get together sometime this week or wait until the weekend? Just wondering what your schedule is...

Me: (Long pause for effect...) Well, I have my daughter a lot this week, so the only nights I am currently free are Thursday and Saturday.

Him: Well, can I have both?

He he he. Can he have both? Can he evah!

We pencil in Thursday and Saturday and say we'll work out the details later. My sister and I proceed to do the silly things we like to do when no one is around : talk about sex, tell funny stories, discuss how worried we are about Britney and Lindsay and all the other girls with behaviour problems, bad judgement and/or bad taste.

We get on a discussion of how dirty dirty dirty this one song that our mother used to play all the time when we were little - Miracles by Jefferson Starship- and proceed to google and look up the actual lyrics.

I had a taste of the real world
When I went down on you...

Yeah. Okay. Way to put it out there. We can't believe my mother played that so much when I was 7. Thank god I didn't have a clue what those lyrics meant.


Wednesday began innocently enough. Drive-by from sales guy. Big smile - he wanted to stop but knew it was the wrong thing to do.

Lunch at SouthPoint - an end of project work celebration. Good food, and I end up getting a sizeable award for the work I did. Nice. Today was a good day. That much closer to potentially getting new boobs.

I return to the office, and get an IM from Ivy League:

I want to send some restaurant reviews to you. Do you have a personal email address?

Restaurant reviews. This guy is so cute and thorough. So this is what it is like to date an adult. I had no idea what I have been missing for 4 years.

I ask him if I can plan something absurd for us. Def Leppard Saturday night. He asks how much the tix are, and I say none of your business as I am buying. He agrees that it will be absurd but fun. I tell him I got an award and its me that wants to go, so no worries on the price.

So about 10 min later I get his email:

Hey girl, congrats on your award! What was the occasion?
Check out the reviews below and tell me what you think.
I'm looking forward to the concert now. That will be a lot of fun, even if the temp will drop to low 50s at night over the weekend.
Have a great day!

Hee hee hee. He said congrats. He mentions the weather. So cute. So grown up. He can start picking his nose at this point and I will be giddy over it. I write back:

Either restaurant sounds great...you pick.

The award was given because I have a nice ass.

Oh yeah and because I was on the Integration Team this spring...

So he writes back a little later:

Good to hear - let's go to North Hills. That way we can go to a bar nearby after the movie if we want. Or my place - haha.

You know, you have a tremendous ass. In fact, I still have a clear image of you standing in front of the mirror at the very end of the night. Truly inspiring!

Meanwhile, back in the cubicle: Sales guy comes over and sits in my office. Oh my. He's made up what seems like a justifiable business reason to come talk to me. I see through this, as does my co-worker across the way (she's rolling her eyes.) He needs something for a meeting next week that my employee can provide. I ping the girl on my team, telling her sales guys needs something, and she says:

ohh he's so cute. he could eat crackers in my bed.

Well I haven't heard that one before but I'll use it three times and make it my own.

As sales guy leaves my office he says - check your phone. This is what was there:

I want to do dinner/nothing crazy on Sunday night. You game?

I say yes because he's cute and because my sister thinks I am way too into Ivy League and need to stay balanced.

Ivy League pings me one more time to tell me to call him that night to talk about details.

So later than night I do, but it is after a quick chat with Yorkshire Hottie. Read this in your best British accent to get the full effect of how lovely he sounded saying these words:

Ahh you sound lovely, you do.
Worked out all the details for staying in Oxford - all are excited to see you. London should be loads of fun that week.
Hope you won't be disappointed in me - my idea of foreplay is not saying "Brace yourself, girl."
Missing you like crazy, babe

This is all nice, but we all know where my mind is these days and its on the man who indeed should tell girls to brace themselves. (Ha!)

Speaking of him, Ivy League doesn't answer when I call him at 8, but he does call me later around 10. We talk for 2 hours...

Ivy League can eat crackers in my bed anytime.

I don't like Mondays

Nothing happened on Monday with Ivy League. No phone call, no interesting IMs at work. Silence. Nothing today (Tuesday) either.

Silence also from Yorkshire Hottie. He owes me an email, but I ignored three phone calls from him this weekend, so I guess he is pouting. Am thinking that perhaps it wasn't wise to ignore him - he's now incommunicado. I was just about to buy my ticket to go to London over the week of American Thanksgiving, but maybe this is not wise.

Back at the office, the sales guy - Mr. Send a Limo to Waffle House - he did send me some interesting IMs at work:

Lots of fun Friday!
We need to do that again - you let me know when
You should have come to the concert...
We should go see them this tour before they keel over...

To make it a bit weirder, I got a text from him last night around 10 while I was sitting on the couch with my sister:

Sweet Dreams

Hmmm. How does one react to that. Seems like a non sequitur. I wanted to write back, "Hello my cat's name is Mittens."

Then, Tuesday morning, I get a warning from my good friend S that he's roaming the building. Sure enough, 20 seconds later he's on my row, walking by, smiling. I can't talk as I am on a call. But I smile back - he is awfully cute.

He sends me an IM 2 minutes later:

Now that's a beautiful smile to see before I head into a 2 hr meeting

The attention was nice, but it is from the wrong guy.

A limo ride to waffle house?

I woke up Saturday, after all the drama and drunk dialing by sales guy and such and checked my voice messages from Friday night:

"I know you have to take your friends home. I'll send a limo to your house to pick you up and bring you to waffle house..."

Limo to the Waffle House. Yeahhhh. Just picture that one. It wouldn't even be rock star. It would be lame and baffling. Honestly, that is one of the most confusing offers I have ever received.

One from Yorkshire:
"Hello sweetie. Watching some documentary and its gotten me all upset. Felt like a chat with you. Missing you. Cheers."

Brits with their accents make the ordinary sound interesting and charming. I listened to the message three times.

I got out of the concert tix date by saying I couldn't find a babysitter. Lame.

Saturday I had a great day - met S for lunch and shopping. Bought a fabulous black halter top at North Hills. Got a makeover late in the afternoon, and the really good make up artist at Saks Fifth Avenue made me look like a porn star. No lie.

After all, this was a third date, and I needed to do something special. Drastic even. Porn star was one option.

Yorkshire hottie was indeed missing me. Two messages about England and the World Cup. This is important to him, no doubt, but an excuse to reach out as well.

Ivy League was late that night. I waited for 15 minutes in the bar of the restaurant. I wasn't mad though. Lots of cute waiters.

He showed up and noticed the make up right away. "I like what you've done with your eyes." Ahhh this is good. This guy does not miss a thing. My phone - sales guy - pings:

You should be here. The concert is fantastic...

Hmm. I think the phone is going to need to be set on silent. The restaurant is too quiet and he is just too cute.

He's very very charming. He talks a lot, but there are smatterings of compliments in there. (I'm thinking to myself...Dude, you had this in the bag when you asked me out last Monday. There's not been a lot of sex in my life the past few months, and you willing and are easy to look at it. You do not have to try this hard.)

We go to WCC. That's the third time for me in four days. He's never been, and I am hoping that same DJ is there.

I am nervous. He's making me nervous. I know why. I now realize that I like everything he does or is. I like how cocky he is. I like how he tries a little too hard to be cocky b/c he knows I like it. He sniffles a lot, as he has allergies, but its hot. Honestly. I could watch him sniffle all day. I like how a cigarette looks in his mouth. He looks like a movie star, and I don't mean like Tom Cruise. I mean like an old fashioned glory days I am ready for my close up Mr. Deville movie star. And his face...especially his nose. God he has this profile that is just - beautiful. I so am in trouble here.

There was an awful lot of conversing going on. He accused me of being guarded with him. (I am soooo trying to be casual about this, so I guess I come off as guarded.) We meet my friend Bunny (who happens to be very beautiful and out on the town with her boyfriend) and also the ex (my ex, who is also her ex) from the other night. Confusing, but they were all out together.

So I introduce Mr. Let's Have a Threesome to Ivy League and its a very very funny moment for me. All is well.

They leave, and Ivy League and I don't because they are still playing good 80's/90's music. They play Rob Bass, and Bel Biv Devoe (Poison). We dance to Turn Me On (Kevin Little) and honestly, it was the most erotic three minutes I have ever experienced with all my clothes on and no kissing. I won't soon forget it.

We keep dancing, thinking we'll leave if there's a bad song. But there isn't, so we don't leave WCC until 2.

He walks me to my car. We have another short makeout session with me pinned against my door in that parking lot. Any words I could put down would not do justice to the moment. I just knew that there was no where that I would rather be.

Nor would any words do justice to what happened at my house...

Best Week Ever

Hospital Diva is still on vacay so I am monopolizing the posting here. Hopefully, HD, you are logging in remotely to at least know what's going on.

So I left off with my saga on Thursday. I have little to report from the day except for a 1 hour phone conversation with Ivy League, in which he informed me that he would be at the work function I was attending on Friday evening (our work team had a luxury suite reserved for the Hurricanes game.) That would make Friday evening either fun or frustrating in the same way that Wednesday night was. Besides all that, a very nice chat with him.

So Friday, the start of the weekend. I still had to make it through the day at work - we had a big meeting with the entire team (80-90 people) and I was presenting, so I did not enjoy my Friday until all that was over. The presentation went fine, I wasn't too nervous and got a few laughs. Its all good.

We head out to the hockey game. The rain is just pouring down all day and humidity is at about 150 percent, so I have flyaways that make my hair look like the witch's hair on bugs bunny - all kinky and crazy. We had to park what seemed like a mile away, and we are all wearing 3 inch heels and designer jeans that are getting soaked (yeah. i know it was a hockey game. but...we were going out big afterwards and the Ivy League hottie was going to be at the game. I had to look good.)

Good game, open bar. My friend G came with, and she did great mingling even though she knew no one outside of me and S there. I believe I spoke with everyone but Ivy League. It was lame and frustrating and if this thing we have (I don't even know if its a thing at this point) goes on, we are going to have to strike a better balance at talking but not being obvious. But I digress...

The whole game was not lame. My friend G noticed a guy that kept looking at me (not Ivy League...damn!) and she was like, you need to go talk to him. I know him already, only work with him tangentially. Notice that he walks by my desk quite often. He is very cute, but works in sales and thus has that sort of personality. Like a bull.

I don't think of this at the moment, I am thinking about Ivy League, sitting a mere 10 feet away, looking absolutely beautiful and flirting with one of my married co-workers. So I flirt with sales guy. 15 minutes into the talking and flirting (other co-workers flit in and out of our circle) he asks me to the Stones concert the next evening.

Shit.

I love the Stones, and this guy is hot.

But I have a date, previously scheduled from Monday, with Ivy League. Who, at the moment, is not paying attention to me. (I am so selfish...)

So I dance around the subject with sales hottie. "How can a guy like you NOT have a date? What's up with this?" Blah blah blah stroke stroke stroke his ego. It worked, he was having fun. I tentatively said yes (total emotional response) and figured that I would have all night to solve this.

He had to leave early, but we agreed to try and meet up later.

S, G and I head out to the car. We're bummed b/c we're stuck in the hockey traffic and we're all having a bad hair night. We head to WCC downtown anyway, and I hope that our mood picks up.

It does.

What helped was the male to female ratio at the bar on Friday (3 to 1), the amount of tall, hottie males, and the retro music (Rob Base, old school Michael Jackson) mixed with new stuff. G was just beside herself ("I don't get out enough. LOOK at these guys!") and she was groping some guy's muscles while we were at the bar. So our mood picked up, and my phone was very busy all night.

20 text messages later sales guy showed up at WCC. As he was buying me shots, Ivy League gave me a booty call. I told him thanks but I'm not ready to leave yet. (It was nice to know he left his party early, and it was nice to turn him down.)

I danced with the sales hottie, and ended up kissing him a few times.

The ex from the other night (threesome guy) texted me, calling me yummy. Nice. I get a good feeling about that.

But the girls - especially S - wanted to escape WCC and head over to a dive bar a few blocks away. So we left. It was a very good idea.

We walked into our favorite dive bar and caused such a ruckus that a drunk guy actually fell off his stool. S and G were looking good despite the fact that they didn't think they did. My friend G met a cutie at the bar (one of the only normal looking guys there) and proceeding to flirt non-stop for 45 minutes.

I counted the text messages on my phone. 42 all night.

Where are you?
Come meet me
Hot like temperature or hot like your face and body?
Ignore the booty call. Was just kidding...
Sitting in a pub in Leeds missing you...

Sales guy drunk dialed me non-stop after I left WCC. He had many of those texts (but so did Ivy League, Yorkshire Hottie and the ex) and he also dialed my phone to talk a record 10 times in 1 hour.

It was a good night, and I was glad I ended it walking, barefoot, in the rain, back to my car with S and G. I see many more nights like that in our future.

(I must stop writing now. Sales guy is sending me IMs here at work. Yes, he also works with me too...)

Corporate Diva

October swimming in an unheated pool

I have been so tired today, from another late night (surprise surprise!) last night.

My night began with a trip to meet many coworkers for a happy hour. On the way downtown, my sister called to say she was engaged. Finally. My reaction was, "It's about fucking time!" and unbeknownst to me, she had her cell on speakerphone. Hope her fiance does not hate me.

So I was feeling really good about that news - a great start to the night.

When I arrived at the bar I had a really hard time finding the group. This did not bode well for a fun night. There were only 6 people there - one of them was Ivy League hottie - and the only open spot was next to him.

This was torture. No one at work knows about us, nor do we want them to. How do pretend to not know someone you spent 14 hours with and were naked with in your kitchen just four days previous?

You do it by flirting with everyone but him. This sucked. A little. But, seriously, all I wanted to do was flirt with him and I found that I couldn't even look at him. He ended up moving to the other end of the table when some more girls from work arrived, and I got pigeon holed at the girlie end of the table with the uptight girls from work. (I felt so dirrrrty around them.)

Meanwhile, a couple of blondie girls arrive and seat themselves around Ivy League, and one proceeds to give him a massage on his shoulder. I know he's got more than me he's dating, and now I get to see it right in front of me.

Thank goodness for instant messages. I fire one off to my ex boyfriend from 10 years ago who is always out and about on any given Wed/Thursday/Friday/Saturday saying:

At the pub. Come rescue me!

And he fires back, just a mere 30 seconds later:

Give me 20 minutes

Whooohooo! I will be saved. But it gets better. I got a phone call from Yorkshire, which I missed but promptly returned. Then I get one from Ivy League, who has NEVER texted me before:

Hey cutie!

Shit, that's the best you can do? Cutie? I have fought my whole life against that. Cute is the word that short women hate. Cute is for puppies and girls that live by the rules and watch Lifetime and the View. Men might like cute, and sometimes they marry cute but they dream about hot. So I fire back:

You can do better than that...

The intent was to get a dirty message out of him. But instead, I got nothing. No flashing light. No new message. Oh, I had a view of him between two blondes and they were all laughing and I am stuck listening to the girls talk about eharmony dating and office stalkers while sipping their cider. Yes. Cider. There's me with bourbon and cigarettes. (One of these things is not like the other.) No sex talk. No hottie moments for me. So I fire off another one to the en route ex:

These people are lame. Save me and make me look like a rock star

Ivy League heads outside for a long long time. So long I think he's gone. I am depressed. Damn. He's under my skin now. I didn't want this. I was being so cool. I've got to get back into cool aloof mode.

Ex shows up with his very very handsome photographer friend. They both kiss me hello. Lots of love, lots of attention. Oh yeah. They buy me a drink. We stand at the bar and talk and flirt. I tell them about Vegas. The ex thinks I need to spend Thanksgiving with him and not in the UK with Yorkshire hottie. (Yeaaahhhh hmmmm turkey with the ex here in town or hot sex in London with a guy I have only spent 12 hours with. Tough decision.) The ex asks why the people at the table are staring at us. Glaring, evuuhhhn (to quote snagglepuss.) Especially the dark haired one.

Shazam! It's working.

I make a move to leave by returning to the corporate table and paying my bill. Ivy League excuses himself and waves good bye to everyone. 5 minutes later, I am outta there as well with my two guy friends. I get another text, this one from Ivy League which says:

Is this better? Spending 1 hour with you is better than spending 4 hours with all of those people combined.

Hell yeah. That's what I am talking about. My mojo is back and I bar hop with the boys. I kiss the ex in the patio of WCC and it feels nice. I run into drinking friends, people who I have been seeing in bars in Raleigh and Chapel Hill for years. It is always fun, but empty. I sometimes don't know their names, but I could tell you what they drink, who they hook up with, where they have passed out.

We all decide to go to photographer's house. Other people are supposed to come too but they don't for awhile. We think its a great idea to go swimming in October in an unheated pool. I opt not to jump in, but hang out in my underwear. The ex proposes the ultimate threesome for me - two guys and me - and I ACTUALLY gave it some thought. Oh my. Again, sometimes I go too far with the carpe diem. This is cut short by the arrival of several coke whores in their 20s who cannot figure out who I am, why I am not intimidated by them, and why the ex won't leave my side. I grow bored with all this, and since the moment for the threesome came and went, I leave him with a kiss on the cheek and a directive to go hang out with the girls who don't have a clue.

I leave there thinking of Ivy League...and it was nice.

The Forces of Evil took over on my kitchen island

So the date with the Ivy League hottie was good. We went out to eat, and then drove to a club to go dancing.

I discovered that this very preppy guy can actually dance, and dance well.

The funniest moments of the night occurred when he brought me back to my car, still parked in a small, private parking lot behind the neighborhood bistro where we ate. He kissed me goodnight, very well I might add, and this lead to a 1 hour make-out session against our cars at 2 in the morning. My god, how old am I??? When is this madness going to end? I really should not be doing this sort of thing.

The whole scene is comical to think back upon, but while I was there it was quite nice and exactly where I wanted to be.

He called the next day, to ask about going out Saturday, and since the make out session was indeed good, I agreed.

Let's just say that Saturday night was filled with its own adventures, some captured here in my summary to Hospital Diva:
Okay, so the forces of evil took over me on my island in the kitchen I decided I had to have sex with Ivy League hottie on saturday night around 3. I am only human. It had been three months for me. I made the mistake of getting a bikini wax and shaving my legs so I had no internal excuses. The breaking point was that he had me on the island in my kitchen. What's a girl to do? We had a very very good night of food, adventures and dancing before the whole seduce a girl in her suburban kitchen thing.

The funny thing is, he was good, it was an amazing date, but he's not under my skin. You know? I don't know if this is because I am trying to be super cautious because this guy is pretty cool or what. Anyway, he's huge, and I am satisfied. These pipes are clean!!! We'll see what happens.

It must have been all okay, b/c he called less than 1 day and half later to ask for a date this coming weekend. I am intrigued but not obsessed (this feeling of detachment is like being a guy, I think.) I am so totally enjoying myself. Five days till I see him again. Hmm what to do til then...

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, another message today from my british bad boy, and he mentions his "mum':


Hi babe
I wish I could hop on a plane too, I could be there in 8 hours, thirty minutes later that's us, in the hotel all naked!
My day has not been hectic, lunch with my mum, talked about you!
Hope your ok, and not too stressed.
Guess what? Nearly every morning that I have woken up since coming home, one of the first thoughts in my mind is always you.
Missing you.
x

Now its time for an update from Hospital Diva and what's going on in her life...

The Angelina Jolie Factor

Corporate Diva still posting here...

So before any more happens with Ivy League Hottie, my Yorkshire boy keeps writing every day:
Hello
Does your company solicit your emails, because if they do someone in I.T. will be looking at you in an entirely different way!
You are indeed correct, Iron Maiden do not have a job vacancy, however on TV in the UK there is a new reality show where the contestants compete to be the new lead singer for Aussie rockers INXS, maybe you should try out, I'll arrange the audition for the 21st.
But it will be with just me, a private audition, in a hotel room, in London, promise I'll be attentive... I am very much looking forward to your visit, and of course seeing you naked! (Oops, just typing out loud) I know of exquisite restaurants which overlook the Thames in the evening it's beautiful. A beautiful view, for a beautiful woman.

I hated telling him that Rock Star INXS is in repeats for the UK, and that they have already filled Michael Hutchence's job. I am still glowing over him. He's gotten under my skin somehow.

Ivy League hottie asked for a Thursday night day, at a local, very intimate restaurant. The day of the date, I had a total hottie day with that is recounted in this note to Hospital Diva and my sister:

Hello
I got your message about giving me a pep talk about my date tonite. I don't need it - I am going to be fine. I am pumped up! The reason, you ask? Well, my day so far:
-Cell phone text message from Yorkshire boy: "Hello gorgeous. Hope you slept well. xxxx"
-Email from Yorkshire boy: memorable quote among many - "If you come to the UK in November I'll be quite attentive" and "I know of exquisite restaurants overlooking the Thames. Gorgeous views for a beautiful woman..."
-Instant Message from Ivy L Hottie about the dinner tonite...much flirting including a line about how I make motherhood look sexy. (Author's note: YES! The angelina jolie factor comes into play again.)
Then, out of nowhere, several hours later, a text message from Ivy League Hottie's coworker on the Worldwide team: He is asking me if I will commit to a happy hour with a big group, and I say that Wednesday moves me to a positive:
Me - it moves me to positive
Coworker - then i'll book wednesday.. .. your milkshake brings all the boys to the yard
Me - LOL
Me- that's hilarious
Me- but I don't think so
Coworker - i'm just reporting what I see
Me - you boys over there in your building are dangerous
Coworker - we enjoy our lives, yes
- dangerous, i dunno about that
Coworker - you are dangerous, beautiful, powerful, can drink with anybody... that is just trouble
Me- well okay you boys are fun then
Me - holy crap what did I do to deserve this
Note to self: Holy crap is right. Did he actually quote the milkshake song to me?
So that's my day.

The date went well. I got all dolled up and whipped up my big sexy hair (at the very good advice of my other very good friend here in town) and loaded myself full of confidence.

More on the saga of Yorkshire Hottie

Corporate Diva still writing here...

So the next reply from the boy across the pond was this:

Hi Gorgeous
You say the nicest things. I am jet - lagged, and was very tired until reading your words. I'm like a school boy, wide awake with knots in my stomach.
Seeing you again was all I could think about, since I walked away from you in the hotel corridor whilst forcing myself not to look back.

My god - did he actually use the word whilst? I don't know that I have actually seen that word outside of a Dicken's book. I am, at this point, somewhat frantic about him. I think of him in meetings. I am watching BBC America, just to feel closer to him. Suddenly the football standings and Leeds United in particular is fascinating. I am silly.

So I asked him to listen to Inner Smile by Texas - from the Bend it Like Beckham CD - that it reminded me of him. He totally got it:

Oh by the way,
I listened to the song, bless you.
I think it fits perfectly.
x

Lovely. Always signs his emails and text messages with a kiss. At about this time in the week there are other things brewing closer to home, and involve an American I will call Ivy League Hottie.

This guy is seemingly perfect. I have known him for less than a year, and he works at the same company I do. I first ran into him during a Vegas business trip we were all on - a boondoggle of sorts that is some work and quite a bit of play and drinking. The night I was big fish at Pure he left Pure early with two, yes, two women. And he was the only guy on the trip that did not give me any attention.

I had lunch with him about a month after that trip - in March around the time of the NCAA Tourney. He was impressive during the lunch. Confident. Cute. I actually had the thought, "I am so engaged to the wrong guy" - this guy sitting across from me is like me but male. I walked away from that lunch with a crush on him but thought there was no way a guy like that would ever be available or that I would be either.

Well, I became available 7 weeks ago, and to make a long story short, he was interested. He asked for my number the week before I went to Vegas. (September was a very good month for me) and called the day I returned.

It begins

I will start by writing about Vegas guy, whom I will refer to from here on out as Yorkshire Hottie.

I went to Vegas for a wedding and bachelorette party, and my adventure began with a guy I spent a mere 10 hours with and never got past second base. To make this more complicated and lame sounding, the man is from northern england. A very sexy sort of bad boy, straight out of Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels or Snatch, but without the cockney accent. He plays lead guitar in a band part time and is a professional smoker and drinker like me. He was confident without being boorish, and agressive enough to be very sexy and cool.

It sounds innocent enough, but I was strangely sad the moment he walked away from my hotel room and even sadder on the flight home.

Mostly I wished I hadn't turned down his offer to have a quick go at it in his room before I left for my early morning flight. Lesson learned. I ignored my sense of carpe diem acquired two years ago after the death of my grandmother and recently cemented into my being with the series finale of "Six Feet Under" and the pep talks from my best friend. So this blog will be about recent events in my life and in my best friend's life (who subscribes to that same sort of make the most out of your life and try and be a little naughty every single day attitude.) But I digress...

I returned to the office to send a very quick note to his email that said something like this:

Yorkshire Boy,
Hope this is indeed you. We'll soon enough find out. Had a fabolous time. You made a great occasion even more fun. Write if you get a chance.

And he wrote back this:

Hi Gorgeous!
Hope you got my voice mail.
I want to thank you for Saturday. You made it amazing, absolutely amazing. You are a wonderful person, and beautiful beyond expectation.
When I first saw you I looked three times!!
The first thing I did when I returned home (20 minutes ago) was turn on my computer to send you an email. Then I read yours. It felt good.
I have some free time in September, and heard NYC was nice then, one problem is I'll need a good tour guide. Do you have any suggestions?
I could recommend a good lunch menu!
Thinking of you.

x x

I had told him in that Vegas penthouse Saturday night that his english accent was so sexy that I would enjoy him reading lunch menus to me, let alone whispering in my ear. So I wrote this:

You made my day with the voice mail. You sound heavenly. You sounded better in person whispering in my ear, but I'll take voicemail anyday.
Anyway, as crazy crazy crazy as it sounds, I would love to see you again. I meant it when I said I regretted not taking more advantage of my time with you, or that I should have changed my flight to later. I thought of you the entire flight home and it brought a huge smile to my face.
I want to thank you again for the lovely, lovely time. I've never had so much fun kissing in hotel hallways. Imagine what we could do if we had more time and a proper room.