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Of the Old Year, silly!

I'm not really sure how to send out 2008. It was certainly a year of ups and downs, of some high hopes and a heartbreak or two.

2009 shall bring more of the same, I'm certain. But, hopefully less on the heartbreak side of things.

Wish me luck!

And, Good luck with yours!

Cabin Fever

Well, I've been locked in my house since Saturday afternoon.

No more!!

This afternoon I decided to hike to the grocery store. I say 'hike' because it involved hiking boots, and 1/4 of a mile of post holeing in the snow. It probably would have been way more awesome if I had snowshoes on. But, alas, I didn't. Next time gadget, next time!

In the mean time, here are some pretty pretty pictures of the snow from last night and this afternoon.

No, I'm not kidding.

Auto key lock confirmed that's my car. *whew*

The Lutheran church by my house, isn't it beautiful?

Christmas Celebrations

My boss had us all over for a holiday party last week, which was quite fun. We ate dinner, chatted, played a game and called it a night.

Teach's party was on Sunday, and that was quite a success. Bill's presence didn't cause any problems (I wasn't particularly worried it would), and, interestingly, Teach had invited a couple who didn't even know anyone else. Honestly, I found it a bit curious that their invite sparked no uprising. The couple brought their baby, and it was so adorable to watch Bill playing with him—the boy is so baby hungry. I wonder how long he'll want to wait after getting married before having their first kid.

Lastly, Bill and I had our own mini-Christmas celebration last night (he left for home today). Earlier in the week I suggested that we cook dinner, open presents, and maybe get me a tree Friday night. He agreed.

So, after work we ran a couple of errands, stopped by the grocery store to pick up some sausage (vegan for her, super spicy for him), some spritzer (hey, it's the holidays), and some pasta sauce (for the spaghetti we were about to make). At his place I got to cook everything while he wrapped my present. Then, we served dinner and opened presents.

I got him a pedicure (sea weed wrap) and a deep tissue massage. He's been wanting to try both, but hasn't booked it—so I booked it for him. He looked pleased to get that and said, "Thanks! You knew I'd never do that for myself." I think he was a little disappointed that I got him a service, rather than an actual physical gift, but, I'm sorry, what do you get for the guy who buys himself whatever he wants?

He got me three beautiful Chinese calligraphy brushes and a nice wooden vase in which to store them. He told me they were for decoration or use. They're too pretty to use. And I don't know how to do Chinese calligraphy, so they shall be just for decoration. I think he did a wonderful job picking my present. It was thoughtful, very much appealed to me and my hobbies and tastes, and something totally unexpected and unique. Honestly, though, I'm a little mortified at how much we spent on each other for Christmas. I've never spent as much on someone for a present (unless you count flying to their country of residence a present), and I can guess as to how much he spent on mine. I know he doesn't have a problem spending money, but, still. Wow. That's a lot for a friend.

After gifts (and hugs) were exchanged, we ate dinner, drank our delicious spritzer, and put in a movie. When the movie ended he packed while I passed out on his couch. Then he braved the ice to bring me home.

I'd say that my favorite Christmas celebration so far this year has been Bill's and mine. It was sweet, tender, and very "us."

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

SNOW! And they're predicting a blizzard for tonight! We'll see.

In bad news, I was going down a very small hill earlier today and lost all traction. I braked, I pulled the handbrake, I honked my horn (so the truck I was sliding towards would move), and eventually steered into the curb. Unawesomely, I bumped the stupid pickup. They weren't terribly worried about it, so I wasn't. But, I did end up scratching the paint on my car. Nuts.

Define Normal

Sunday found me hanging out with a friend I met through Cyclist (she's a school teacher, so I shall call her Teach). Of all the friends I met through him she has been the most embracing of Bill (not that everyone else has been stand-offish, just that she is the most apt to include him without me just bringing him along to things). She also has the added 'bonus' of being the one person I told about the whole post-Halloween party near kiss. As we were hanging out she asked me, "So, are you and Bill back to being weird?" Where 'weird' here was meant to mean our normal state of non-dating, but nearly.

"Yup," I said. "We had a really good argument, and now things are back to normal."

"Ok. 'Cause at Thanksgiving you two seemed fine. I mean, he was flirting with you like before, as if nothing had happened."

"Yeah, we're good."

She chuckled, "On the ride home after Thanksgiving dinner my husband said to me, 'Granola and Bill. Don't get it."

I laughed, "He's not the only one!"

New Experiements

Oddly, it seems that having the "responsibility" of being a blogger for amazon.com has put me in an interesting way.

Last night I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some dinner. I had no idea was I was going to make, but as I stood there in the produce section I decided to buy fennel. My justification for buying a vegetable I've never before cooked with, much less eaten? "Well, I can cook it up for the blog."

Look for next week's blog post about fennel and purple potatoes.

Sex or Company

After work I headed over to Bill's. He needed help running some errands, and, naturally, I was there for him. As we walked up to his apartment he casually mentioned that he was going out with the guys after we were finished. Um... thanks dude. You tie me up for the beginning of Friday evening, and didn't tell me beforehand that I'd be free early enough to go out with other people. Yeah, thanks.

At his place he quickly picked up. The apartment wasn't messy, it just wasn't some place you'd necessarily bring back "company". "I see," I teased, "planning on bringing someone home, then?"

"Well," he shrugged attempting casual, but failing dismally as he blushed, "you never know."

Yeah, my company was passed over for a the hope that he might bring home a bar skank. I hope he failed.

Submitting an Application

"There have to be some fun, funny, witty guys out there!" I said with a hint of exasperation in my voice.

Bill smiled his goofy grin, raised his hand, and waved it in the air.

"Let me rephrase," I clarified as he lowered his hand, "there have to be some fun, funny, witty guys out there, who are interested in me."

"Oh," he said, seemingly lowering his hand further.

Perhaps a little annoyed at his constant offering himself until I move to take him up on it, I replied, "If you're not interested in the position, don't apply for the job."

There was little more that could be said, he isn't interested in the position.

Fag Haggery

Dan Savage once made a comment that fags and their hags (if they're not careful) can get into a relationship such that they're essentially boyfriend/girlfriend, sans the sexual aspect.

I can't help but totally agree.

He spoke about how neither has a legitimate claim on the other, but they certainly (perhaps subconsciously) feel that they do. And, he went on to say, when one party begins to develop a romantic relationship with someone else, the "jilted" party feels hurt and betrayed, even though they have no claim, or right to feel jilted or betrayed.

What does this have to do with me (since, currently I am no one's hag)?

Simple. Bill and I have very much that sort of relationship. We are, with out the fun parts, essentially each others' significant other. I know this, and have pointed it out on occasion. It's just nice to know that I'm not the only person who feels this way, or goes through these periods.

Oh, Hey There

On our way back to the office from giving blood Bill and I ran into Musician. We stopped and chatted briefly. Musician complemented my hair cut (thanks), and invited us to the afternoon concert he was setting up. Neither of us made the concert.

I'm half waiting for Musician's email asking about Bill and I. A question I can't fault him for asking. I mean, really, What on Earth Are we doing?

Can you tell this has been troubling me a bit recently?

Vampire Tuesday

Bill and I went to give blood this morning. From the time they started prepping me to the time I was up off the table was 8 minutes. Yeah, eight.

Bill, on the other hand, had a much different experience. I waited for him for 40 minutes, through having quite a number of staff gathered around him looking worried (multiple times), him looking a little less than perky, and, well, 40 minutes.

After he (finally) joined me at the juice and cookie station I grabbed one of the stickers off the table and stuck it to his chest. His sticker proudly proclaimed, "I tried to give blood." I chuckled at myself for my joke. After sitting for the minimal required 10 minutes we were up and off to the office.

On the way back to work Bill confessed—he was 8 oz short of the minimum donation requirement, so they couldn't use his blood. Bummer. Worse still, he now has a nasty bruise on his arm. The poor dear.

Definitely C

"What size bra do you think I wear? I'm at least a B, probably a C, right?"

We had just finished picking out a bridal shower present for a friend at Victoria's Secret, and were currently standing in the middle of Banana Republic looking at sports coats. It's odd how when you're sequestered in the corner of a store, no matter how crowded, you can always feel a little alone.

"I don't know," I answered, despite having seen him topless on a number of occasions (mostly when doing henna on his back). "I'd have to feel you up to know for sure." What a terrible, terrible lie. I couldn't possibly guess a cup size from feeling a person up.

"Well," he asked lowering his voice and crossing his arms under his pecks as he flexed, "do you want to?" He had strategically angled himself such that I could easily cop a feel with no one being any the wiser.

I turned, closing the gap between us, as if to do just that, in a hushed voice I said, "more than you know," and proceeded to keep my hands to myself.

I think he was a little disappointed.

Well, you know what, buddy? It took a lot of restraint, but I think, in the end, it was better for both of us.

Lazy Sunday

Sunday afternoon I wanted little more than to curl up on the couch under a blanket and read. Read what, I wasn't sure. But a book was certainly involved in my plan.

The other thing I wanted: company. I didn't want that company to actually entertain me, or talk to me, or even share the couch with me. I just wanted another body in the house. So I invited myself over to Bill's (I'm not going to lie—his couches rock way harder than mine (which suck)). He told me I could come over, as long as he was allowed to work. Deal.

I showed up with 3 books and demanded (a) the big couch, and (2) a blanket. I was provided with both, and a glass of water. For the next several hours we just were. I read, he worked, and we both listed to music—loudly. We talked a couple of times, but mostly existed in our own spaces. It was excellent.

At some point dynamics changed and I decided to give Mumsy the customary Sunday phone call. Mumsy and I were chatting and having a good time joking with Bill (who was occasionally on speaker phone). After a while of this banter Mumsy and I were just talking to each other. "When," she asked, perhaps concerned, perhaps worried, perhaps hopeful, "is he going to make an honest woman of you?"

"Not ever," I said. I'm not sure if it was supposed to be reassuring or lamenting, but what it was, was a statement of fact. No, mom. Not ever. No matter how much I may foolishly wish, I am not the woman Bill wants.

After the phone call I went back to reading and Bill went back to work. A few hours later we ate dinner and then put on a movie (which I watched and he half-watched whilst working). After the movie was over I started to get into leaving mode when he suggested another movie, "It's kind of late," I said. "I should probably get going."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed.

"Unless you want me to stay?" I offered and hoped.

"Uh, you're right. It's late. I'll probably be up late tonight, but yeah." I left. I never really know what is going on in that brain of his.

First Step: Acceptance

I'm not as in control of my chaos as I wish I were.