Matchy-matchy

I was all the way into downtown this morning before I realized I'm wearing brown shoes and a brown shirt with black pants.

Sigh.

Oh well.

Reunion

Best part? Showing up in clothes that fit and about five pounds lighter than I was when I graduated and getting this compliment: waving her hand non-committally in front of her mid-section in a motion which included both my cute shirt and my waistline the most popular girl who I would consider a friend said, "Wow Granola, you're looking good!"

Yup, and thanks.

Glowing

The drive home was a long 13 hours. At about hour seven Bill called go vent about something. Near the end of the conversation he asked when I was getting home. I told him and he suggested I go atop by and hang out. We had both been suffering withdrawals, so I wasn't remotely surprised at the suggestion.

6 hours later I got home, cleaned up, and headed over. He came to the door and were both so excited to see each other that we nearly exchanged a hello hug (our hugs are usually strictly farewells).

He was grinning from ear to ear.

So was I, apparently.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, "you're glowing!"

"Am I? Nah, I think they call that a sunburn."

"Nope, you look good."

"Well, thanks."

Later, we were talking about someone telling me that I look good. I told him that it was good to hear that sort of validation from someone. "I've told you that you are looking good," Bill offered.

"No, you haven't," I informed him.

"I haven't? Well, you're looking better—more healthy and stuff."

I smiled and thanked him. It is good to hear.

Later

"How are we going to get there?" 5 of us were standing in an elevator discussing our options for getting to a post-work celebration. There was one 4-seater car between us.

"Fly," came the reply from Bill.

"Oh? With what wings?" I inquired.

"We'll talk about it later," he reassured me in a flirtatious tone.

"Zoinks! I am scandalized!" I exclaimed, hoping no one thought that they were witnessing an intimate moment between lovers (which they all think we are anyway).

We opted to walk.

As we walked we talked about his comment, "Sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean to put you on the spot, but it was too funny to pass up."

"Sure," I replied dryly, "now everyone thinks we're going to go back to your place and play a rousing game of hide-and-go-screw-me!"

We laughed and, in the end, didn't play the aforementioned game.

That One Guy

You know That One Guy? The one who always makes things difficult, annoying, frustrating, or just generally suck for those around him? Well, he was there this week. He was loud, obnoxious, rude, and lewd. And, I don't do lewd. He hit on every woman there (and most were middle aged married women). I have a feeling that he didn't spend a single night alone in his bed. Well, that's totally not true. If he had his way that would have been the case—I doubt he had his way.

At one point he was so persistant in hitting on me that I had to say, "blah blah blah my boyfriend blah blah blah." That worked. Thank Heavens. Also, Thank Bill for being my boyfriend for a day and a half. Tragically, neither of us got any of the fun benefits from our flash-in-the-pan relationship.

Thoughts on a Frantic Week

Wow. After a week of whirlwind frantic running around I can't believe I have a morning of downtime. I actually got to sleep in this morning (I was the only one, and trust me, they weren't shy about being loud around me).

So, what did you miss?

I'm not sure I blogged much about it, but Mumsy and I put on a facepainting convention this week. (Dad and Midge helped out a ton, but it really felt like a Mom-and-Gorp venture.)

Frankly, we lost our shirts. Well, is it losing your shirt if you lose half of what you put out? I dunno. Either way, we didn't make back enough to cover our expenses, obviously.

However. We're totally doing it again next year.

The success of our convention cannot be measured in money made, but in knowledge gained, in friendships formed, and in the experience had by all. And everyone there had a great time!

What's hardest to believe is that if we're going to do it next year, we have to start planning it now. Lots and lots to do.

Busy Bee

At home for the convention with my family Monday through Wednesday. And, then, on to my highschool reunion tomorrow night.

Oh, and lunch tomorrow with RedRat. Man, I miss that girl!

Test Results

After weeks of ignoring the pain in my right foot, and three days of renewed (and totally unwelcome) pain, I decided it was time I got my tail to a doctor.

I also needed follow up blood work from the exams I had earlier this year. Turns out diabetes runs in my family and so I am a little concerned. My first set of blood work came back telling me that, while I'm not diabetic, I am very much at risk. Doctor's orders? Give up rice, potatoes, things containing sugar, and well, yeah, that. He also told me I needed to exercise more. This was January/February-ish.

So, I joined a gym.

But, I didn't give up the rice. Or potatoes.

This morning I got a call from the doctor's office. Test results are back and my blood work looks good. I'm to keep up the exercising, etc. Oh, and he said, "Good job on the weight loss and exercising." Funny, he didn't weigh me. How do they know I lost weight?

Exceptions

In the last month Bill has made out with 3 different girls. Each only one time, and hasn't really seen any of them since.

He's what we call a 'slut.'

He wants to be in a relationship, and doesn't mess around when in a relationship. But, I believe, he wants to be in a relationship so much that he goes about it in all sorts of bizarre and seemingly desperate ways. Including hooking up with random women. Or, seemingly, any woman who will proposition him.

Any woman, that is, except me.

Yes, ladies and gents, I've been rejected by a man who doesn't know how to say 'no'. It was a proud moment in my life.

The Request

It was late.

We were watching a movie.

He was looking particularly hot.

And inviting.

After minutes of agonizing over possible scenarios, I opted for the most direct and least likely to have an overly negative reaction.

Looking over at him I asked, "Can I snuggle with you?"

"WHAT?!" Bill's voice raised with shock, confusion, and, well, shock. Oh, and more than a hint of what the hell???

"Can I snuggle with you?" I repeated matter of fact-ly.

"Sorry, that would just be weird."

"It's not like I'm going to start making out with you and stick my tongue down your throat. I just want to cuddle."

Not surprisingly, his position didn't change, "Why?" He didn't wait long enough for me to answer, "Do you just want physical contact?"

"Yes," I said, eager to not have to say, "Because I want to have your babies, and this is the next step in getting to that point."

"Uh, well, no. Sorry."

"Ok," I said, turning back to the movie.

Later we were talking about playing games and I said, "I think games are stupid, and people should just say what they want." Clearly referencing my earlier request.

The evening finished uneventfully and normally, including him walking me to my car and the customary good-bye hug.

Today's conversation included my obligatory, "I didn't mean to weird you out, I didn't mean anything by it." And his "It just took me off guard, and I just wanna be friends."

Excellent. Just excellent.

Death Wish

Contrary to what I have previously asserted, I do, apparently, have a death wish.

Thursday morning I got out of bed and headed to the washroom to get ready for my day. I passed my bike, as I do every time I walk into my apartment, or to the washroom, as it holds a special place right in the entrance (ok, ok, it's the easiest place to store it). But, this morning, something was different. Perhaps it was the taste of victory from having conquered The Hill. Perhaps it was the genuine desire to skip the gym this morning. Whatever it was, I heard the bike whisper to me, nay, demand that I should ride it to the office that morning.

Like most people I listen to the voices in my head.

So, I packed the day's clothes in a small shoulder bag I have, put on my gym clothes, and set out. I gave myself 1 1/2 hours. It took me 45 minutes. In total the distance traveled was just under 7 miles. I did have to walk the bike in two places. One was up a hill I knew I would never make my first trip. The second was up a hill I have traveled before, but didn't want to brave in rush hour traffic. I was exhausted. I ended up going to the gym, but just to shower. Then headed to work.

I had no clue where to put the bike during the day, so it got a nice spot outside my cube. Which proved to be entertaining for me. Cyclist was walking by my cube and happened to glance over and see the bike. He thought to himself, "Hey, I know that bike!" And, since I wasn't at my desk, immediately sent me an instant message inquiring if I had, in deed, ridden to work that morning. Yes, yes I did!

I did, however, fail to plan on one thing—getting home.

The ride home was more grueling than the ride in. And, I didn't make it up The Hill. Actually, by the time I hit the island I wimped out and rode the bus from the park and ride to my place. I couldn't have made it.

When I got on the bus, after securing my bike on the rack, I took a seat near a middle aged woman. After a minute or two she scooted down on her bench—away from me. At precisely that moment I was suddenly able to smell myself. Yeah, I don't blame her for moving. Sorry love, nothing I could do at that point.

The Hill

I happen to live on the top of a hill. This is great when you're enjoying the view or, say, walking to the bus stop. Walking home, however, not such a good time. Prior to even purchasing my bike I promised myself I would conquer what has become known as 'The Hill.' There a 4 ways up The Hill, and not being an idiot, or suffering from a death wish, my goal targeted the least difficult. This route is longer than the other three, but also has the least grade. I have frequently mentioned The Hill to both Bill and Cyclist. Thus, last week, when I managed to finally summit The Hill I immediately sent them both text messages announcing my success! They both issued their congratulations, then expressed the same encouragement: "Now," they declared, "time for I-90!" They're right, but I want to do The Hill a few more times.

Another Convert

The new girl at work announced at lunch on Monday, "I wanna go kayaking!"

"Ok!" I said, excitedly, "let's go!"

We made plans to go tonight.

Then I asked her experience level.

I assumed it was pretty minimal, maybe at least a jaunt out in a canoe once or twice. Nope. Nothing. Nada. Well, I consoled myself, we would stay close to the shoreline, take it slow, and I could pretty much talk her through anything.

We headed out after work this afternoon. Turns out she lacks all upper body strength. We had a great time anyway. She was already talking about going again! Well, that was almost too easy.

Cliche

Thursday night, at some dive diner Bill and I were messing around with our phones. I told him to smile so I could take a picture of him.

He smiled and leaned forward into the camera. Our eyes met, and searched one another for a few seconds before I was able to break the spell and take a picture. I believe I captured a hint of longing in his eyes, or, maybe I'm just hoping.

I think, though, that there is something there, he just doesn't want there to be. Or, maybe, there isn't anything there, and I just want there to be.

Change By Necessity

"I hope that when I start dating someone she's ok with us hanging out."

This is not a statement one wants to hear from the person they like. And, yet, it was one I was hearing. We launched into a conversation about how, if he starts dating someone our relationship will necessarily change. Obviously we won't be hanging out as much, and things will just change.

He didn't seem overly enthused about my matter-of-fact response, but, really, what could he say? If he starts dating someone else, things will change. He is going to have to accept that.

Or date me.

Rides

Bill and I were supposed to go phone shopping Thursday. He ended up working late.

So, instead, after work a few of us went out for 'drinks' to celebrate one of the guys' birthday. While we were enjoying each other's company I complained about my canceled plans. The new girl in the office suggested that she and I go together and we could both get phones.

This we did.

While we were buying phones I got a text from Cyclist. Over drinks we had discussed the possibility of going for a short bike ride, since he just got a trailer for his dog. I told him that I'd love to, but it would be in the dark. No worries. Once we finished with phones I raced to my house, tossed my bike in the car, drove my co-worker home, and headed over to Cyclist's.

We headed out. And, ended up going up a hill that had it been daylight I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have even attempted. The good news is: now I know I can do it.

While we were on the top of the hill I got a text from Bill saying that he was just heading home from work. I told him I was nearly finished with my bike ride, and that I might stop by and bug him. He said he needed dinner, and asked if I did as well. Sure enough—I hadn't eaten since lunch. Since he and Cyclist live near each other I rode down the hill, and then stopped off at Bill's rather than continuing on only to double back.

That might have been a mistake.

I got to Bill's place at 9 pm.

Friday at work the guys were teasing me about him (again, like usual). Cyclist had to get his jab in and asked, "What time did you get to his place for your booty call last night? 10?"

"No!" I exclaimed, defending my own honor, "9! And, it wasn't a booty call!" I insisted.

Collectively, they announced that anything after 9 is a booty call. Sure, 'cepting I didn't get no booty!

Pretensious

Well, I bought an iPhone. I feel terribly pretentious.

However, I love it.

Thought Provoking

"If you were promoted to software developer, would you still leave Seattle?"

That question took me by surprise and I'm still not sure of the answer. We had a chat about how bad the winter effected me this last year, but I didn't reach any conclusion.

I really wish that if he wants me to stay as much as he seems to that he would give me a reason to stay. And, "because you'll miss your bestest buddy, Bill" is actually a crap reason.

Close Encounters

Interesting happenings this weekend:

* Bill and I spent the vast majority of the weekend together.

* Saturday evening at dinner there may have been some innuendo about "do you wanna date me?" "maybe. A little." There was much more to it than that, but that's all I'm saying.

* The whole "since I'm not really dating anyone" moment. At this point, deary, either you are or you aren't. I'm the only person with whom you spend massive amounts of time. Or, I guess we aren't really dating, which is pretty much the case.

* Sunday evening he was showing me something on his phone, we were standing side-by-side and to better allow both of us to see it, he moved his inner most arm from between us. It nearly went around my waist, but at the last minute he just let it dangle behind us.

* During the tour I was leaning my shoulder on a post, and he placed his hand on the post above my head and leaned against it that way.

* When we were playing Rock Band we sat on the love seat together (ease of seating). At one point instruments were switched around and he got up to move, assessed his seating options, and decided to return to the sofa with me.

* Lots and lots and lots of 'accidental' brushes Monday night.

* Lots and lots of not-so-'accidental' poking of each other Monday.

* Though I try to read nothing into it: his song choices sometimes are quite...well, after an interesting conversation we got in his car and he instantly cued up "Since I've Been Lovin' You" by Led Zeppelin (then, after pausing there for few seconds, backed up song or two). When we got out of is car it was still playing, so he popped out the iPhone and cranked up the volume so it would keep playing and we could continue listening. He frequently plays romantic songs, but this one seemed even more premeditated than most.

I think we're both very very confused about what we want. Very confused.

The Misadventures of Ms. Granola

Monday included a trip to REI.

Bill, Cyclist, Cyclist's roommate, and I made the pilgrimage early afternoon to Mecca. Bill and I picked up lights. My skill level isn't such that I plan on doing a lot of riding in the dark, but as we slide into winter I fear that the night riding it going to happen much more frequently than I'd like.

After REI I dropped Cyclist and his roommate off, and Bill and I headed to his place to chill for a bit. We had talked briefly about going on a Duck Tour, but changed our minds and decided to go on the Underground Tour instead. It was quaint and cute. Not a bad way to spend 90 minutes, and I'll probably take my family on it, if they ever come up to visit.

Near the end of the tour the guide was telling us about the Smith Tower (which was built at approximately the same time as the parts of the old city we were touring). Apparently, there's a chair in the Smith Tower called the "Wishing Chair". Legend has it, that if a single woman sits in the chair she'll be married within the year. "So, watch out, man," the guide said to Bill. I'm sure he says that on every single tour he gives. But I wonder how frequently he says it to people who aren't dating.

Following the tour we went and picked up food, then headed over to Cyclist's for some Labor Day grilling. We sat around and grilled and Bill played bass to Cyclist's banjo. Then we adjourned upstairs for some Rock Band.

A nice end to a nice weekend.

The Ride

The bike ride ended up being 20 miles. Yes, two-zero. Holy Wow! It was quite fun and relaxing as well. The pace was a nice leisurely 9-11 miles an hour.

At one point we had to cross over a foot bridge. A cement-walled foot bridge. With pedestrians walking the opposite direction. The more skilled riders (read: the other 6 people) had no problems. Me? I ran into the wall twice before deciding to just walk it. I have a tiny bit of road burn, which is quite funny, but I'm enjoying it.

The ride back was similarly exciting. At one point we had to cross the road, which, since I've been riding in downtown Seattle, wasn't really an issue for me. However, I missed the sloping part of the sidewalk and hit the curb. Then, I hit the sidewalk. Minus the pain of a jammed thumb (left, fortunately) it wasn't too bad. The bike needed some quick roadside repair and the cyclist needed some quick Tylenol, but, yeah, nothing major (loose handle bars, actually, was the extent).

We took a break and let my hand recover, and hung out for a bit. Unfortunately, we didn't time it all that well, because the remainder of our ride back was in the dark. And, 3 of the 7 of us didn't have lights. We rode slowly, cautiously, and yelled out the turns to one another. Oh, and we shared the lights as best we could. One of the guys (actually, the other most experienced cyclist after Cyclist) hit a guard rail when his tire lost traction changing terrain. He was winded, but the damage was mostly to his ego.

Weekend of Fun

Well, to combat the Weekend of Hell, I managed to also have the Weekend of Fun! Thankfully, Bill kept me company all day Saturday, or I might have gone out of my head. Sunday after church I sent a text message to Cyclist to ask him about our plans Monday (we were planning on jamming sometime during the day). He responded by calling me and asking if I wanted to go on a bike ride—in an hour.

I don't know when I became a bike riding enthusiast, but I have. I didn't even paused to think before saying, "YES!" I called up Bill and invited him to come with us. And, off we went.

Bill and I hung out Monday, too. More on both of these events in the next posts, but I did want to start out with a nice little flip side of the coin.