Aw, I met the most respectable gentleman last night, and I behaved myself! Oh the hideous, hideous cuteness. I cooked him an omelette and we chattered until all the birds woke up and when I walked him out he shuffled his feet and said that he thought he should give me a kiss goodbye. And I laughed and smiled at him and kissed him briefly and shyly like a schoolgirl and sprinted all the way back to my bed.
That was a good experience with a member of the opposite sex. I think it was a much better one, too. Not that my last one was bad, but it was certainly very highly improper.
(Though Sarah wrote me to say: "You won't horrify me with your sordid stories. I may be worried, but not horrified, and I'd a thousand times rather see you happy and in control than sad and proper. Besides - a proper Marge just wouldn't be as fun and radiant as an improper one.")
I am getting my dating legs! Oh, that strange and shifting sense of balance.
Oh the hideous cuteness! I'm going to melt or something. And then giggle. There was no tumbling into bed. Or drunken makeout sessions (which have their appeal and all, but not necessarily with someone you really want to see again.) Small victories over my fleshly body, ya know, but I will take them anyway.
2003-03-13, Small victories
before / after
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