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Updates (to be expanded upon at a later time)
-Wedding, which ended at precisely 12:34am July 3rd (I'd like to point out that Dave has previously stated that he had never been to a wedding which started on time - I don't know what time we were supposed to start but yay for an SMs sense of timing when it comes to the curtain call!)
-Reno, hot with too much to get done but oddly not enough to do
-X Burlesque, the first thing we did as a married couple was go see mostly-naked women dance in a "kitchen-sink" review
-Clothing insanity, between guests wanting to wear a)white or b)far-too-formal wear and my unhappiness with my dress; who would have thought the one thing that went wrong would be clothes?
-Haven't done theater in months, getting twitchy, need a fix
-Taking directing this fall and want to do the "discovery" scene from Loves' Labour's Lost or else My Fair Lady from "Without You" to the end. I'll also need to look at standard plays (not Shakespeare or musicals) to find a third option in case neither of those work
-Learning to read music and play the piano, making progress in both but breaking my fingers hold a certain amount of appeal (anyone know how to increase the intelligence of digits?)
That is all for now .... I think.
-Wedding, which ended at precisely 12:34am July 3rd (I'd like to point out that Dave has previously stated that he had never been to a wedding which started on time - I don't know what time we were supposed to start but yay for an SMs sense of timing when it comes to the curtain call!)
-Reno, hot with too much to get done but oddly not enough to do
-X Burlesque, the first thing we did as a married couple was go see mostly-naked women dance in a "kitchen-sink" review
-Clothing insanity, between guests wanting to wear a)white or b)far-too-formal wear and my unhappiness with my dress; who would have thought the one thing that went wrong would be clothes?
-Haven't done theater in months, getting twitchy, need a fix
-Taking directing this fall and want to do the "discovery" scene from Loves' Labour's Lost or else My Fair Lady from "Without You" to the end. I'll also need to look at standard plays (not Shakespeare or musicals) to find a third option in case neither of those work
-Learning to read music and play the piano, making progress in both but breaking my fingers hold a certain amount of appeal (anyone know how to increase the intelligence of digits?)
That is all for now .... I think.
I've been planning the wedding since before Christmas, no exact idea as to when I officially started planning. So this will come as no surprise to anyone:
This weekend Dave and I went to Homer, a place I have no memory of seeing before. We stayed at a lovely B+B, we had the whole thing to ourselves (even the hosts were out of town, and the house-sitter politely left for the night) and thoroughly enjoyed it. I made us dinner, and we drank my favorite champagne. We danced across a hard wood floor lit only by the fireplace and my genuinely-flickering-artificial-candles. The view was stunning, with the lights of Homer glittering on the water (or I assume they glittered as we were too far away to properly tell) and the faint outline of mountains beyond. It was perfectly romantic. And he didn't propose.
Sunday I made us breakfast, french toast which I had been craving for weeks, and we watched a new movie neither of us had seen. As the day wore on I was growing progressively more pissy, he'd told me he'd propose officially before the end of summer. As an Alaskan girl summer ends when the Fair and/or school begins, so he missed that (he defines summer as "before it snows"). Here we were in a lovely, romantic setting and ... nothing. We cleaned up, packed up, and shipped out. On the drive down to the Spit I went from angry to disappointed before finally settling on - I know he wants to marry me, I have no doubt of that so why am I giving so much weight to this?
We arrived at the Seafarer's Memorial, which is beautiful and simplistic simultaneously, it was drizzling and my hair was whipping about my face and knotting rather drastically. As I looked across the water I saw light breaking through the clouds in one of those defined shafts that make you think there might be a supreme being. Dave turned me around, looking far to serious and said, "I know I frustrate and disappoint you, but will you marry me?"
"Hang on a second," I said.
"Huh?"
He looked very confused as I pulled the point-and-shoot out of my pocket, set it to video mode and then pointed it up between us, "Ok, now say it again for Caiti."
"I know I frustrate you, but marry me?" There was a pause while I soaked in the moment and he got progressively more nervous, "Are you going to make me wait?"
"Yeah."
Dave hung his head and looked defeated before I realized he might have been confused, "That was a 'yes' you jackass."
"Oh."
We nuzzled and after a moment he said, "You're going to drain the battery you know, that thing is still recording."
"Oh, right."
We walked along, past all of the shops closed for the season and I apologized for being snippy at breakfast and explained why I had been. His response, "I wanted to propose at some place more special than a bed and breakfast. And besides, do you have any idea how hard it was be somewhere special on a day it rained?"
"You have a point, oh, where's my ring?"
"... On the desk at home."
"Oops."
As romantic as last night would have been, this story is so much more appropriately us. -J
This weekend Dave and I went to Homer, a place I have no memory of seeing before. We stayed at a lovely B+B, we had the whole thing to ourselves (even the hosts were out of town, and the house-sitter politely left for the night) and thoroughly enjoyed it. I made us dinner, and we drank my favorite champagne. We danced across a hard wood floor lit only by the fireplace and my genuinely-flickering-artificial-candles. The view was stunning, with the lights of Homer glittering on the water (or I assume they glittered as we were too far away to properly tell) and the faint outline of mountains beyond. It was perfectly romantic. And he didn't propose.
Sunday I made us breakfast, french toast which I had been craving for weeks, and we watched a new movie neither of us had seen. As the day wore on I was growing progressively more pissy, he'd told me he'd propose officially before the end of summer. As an Alaskan girl summer ends when the Fair and/or school begins, so he missed that (he defines summer as "before it snows"). Here we were in a lovely, romantic setting and ... nothing. We cleaned up, packed up, and shipped out. On the drive down to the Spit I went from angry to disappointed before finally settling on - I know he wants to marry me, I have no doubt of that so why am I giving so much weight to this?
We arrived at the Seafarer's Memorial, which is beautiful and simplistic simultaneously, it was drizzling and my hair was whipping about my face and knotting rather drastically. As I looked across the water I saw light breaking through the clouds in one of those defined shafts that make you think there might be a supreme being. Dave turned me around, looking far to serious and said, "I know I frustrate and disappoint you, but will you marry me?"
"Hang on a second," I said.
"Huh?"
He looked very confused as I pulled the point-and-shoot out of my pocket, set it to video mode and then pointed it up between us, "Ok, now say it again for Caiti."
"I know I frustrate you, but marry me?" There was a pause while I soaked in the moment and he got progressively more nervous, "Are you going to make me wait?"
"Yeah."
Dave hung his head and looked defeated before I realized he might have been confused, "That was a 'yes' you jackass."
"Oh."
We nuzzled and after a moment he said, "You're going to drain the battery you know, that thing is still recording."
"Oh, right."
We walked along, past all of the shops closed for the season and I apologized for being snippy at breakfast and explained why I had been. His response, "I wanted to propose at some place more special than a bed and breakfast. And besides, do you have any idea how hard it was be somewhere special on a day it rained?"
"You have a point, oh, where's my ring?"
"... On the desk at home."
"Oops."
As romantic as last night would have been, this story is so much more appropriately us. -J
Anniversary
Jun. 22nd, 2009 12:05 pmMwahahahahahaha! I have captured an unsuspecting, hapless, introverted computer geek in my web of evil-ness. I will now proceed to torture him with over-peppered meals, inappropriate tickles at bedtime and frequent surprise spankings for the next 55 years! Man I'm good, uh, I mean bad - yeah, I'm one badass mutha' of three. Or two, or whatever.
I'm in a weird mood, can ya tell?
Today is the second anniversary of my first date with Dave. (No he hasn't proposed officially yet, yes the wedding is 65% planned and all important people have been informed.)
Wow, 730 days (give or take a leap year) and not only are we still snuggled together but we plan on remaining that way for the foreseeable future (at least until 12/12/2012 when the zombie revolution hits, if he doesn't survive the first wave I'm so using his corpse for bait). I hope you understand, Panda, and I know you'd do the same if I go first.
Oh, we went to go see "UP" a few weeks ago, and if you've seen it, the beginning part, you know the one that hits you right here *gestures towards the chestal region* the one that made me cry very prettily both times I saw it. Yeah, it got to him too, I heard suspicious sniffles and even saw a tear, just one though, it was a man tear god-damnit! (50 points if you spot the quote)
Anyway, adios. *bounces away to wrap his present, which due to the occasional miracle of the USPS got here precisely on time* ~J
I'm in a weird mood, can ya tell?
Today is the second anniversary of my first date with Dave. (No he hasn't proposed officially yet, yes the wedding is 65% planned and all important people have been informed.)
Wow, 730 days (give or take a leap year) and not only are we still snuggled together but we plan on remaining that way for the foreseeable future (at least until 12/12/2012 when the zombie revolution hits, if he doesn't survive the first wave I'm so using his corpse for bait). I hope you understand, Panda, and I know you'd do the same if I go first.
Oh, we went to go see "UP" a few weeks ago, and if you've seen it, the beginning part, you know the one that hits you right here *gestures towards the chestal region* the one that made me cry very prettily both times I saw it. Yeah, it got to him too, I heard suspicious sniffles and even saw a tear, just one though, it was a man tear god-damnit! (50 points if you spot the quote)
Anyway, adios. *bounces away to wrap his present, which due to the occasional miracle of the USPS got here precisely on time* ~J
Well, we've just eclipsed the year mark for crisavec and I living together, depending on if you mark it as the night I moved in suddenly and didn't leave or the day we bought our bed. I expected us to fall apart rather quickly, what with my annoyingly quirky behavior and Dave's introverted ways, but amazingly its been like breathing. I feel like I've been with him for years, in the good way, and I can no longer imagine not having him in my life. On Valentine's he asked me what I thought would come of it that first weekend when we met and flirted shamelessly - he didn't expect anything, he just thought I looked interesting and in want of company - in all honesty, and I told him as much, I was hoping for six months of fun conversations and a relatively clean break-up. I never expected when that cheerful, techno-dude came waddling over to me at the bar that I'd some day make a Prefinanced Panda out of him, or that I'd become his Prefinanced Pookie. We're a few months shy of two years and I'm still twitterpatted. Weird isn't it?
Overall life is going well, I still haven't grown up as much as I'd like. Being as close to my parents as I have been since high school I'm still accustomed to the lifestyle I was raised in, a lifestyle neither Dave nor I can possibly afford, even if we were to both work full time. I need to make that adjustment from being able to go-out whenever I feel like it, to having to pack a lunch every morning or else not have lunch that day. We want kids, and unless I suddenly get discovered and go platinum we'll have to make sacrifices and start saving NOW.
I am questioning getting married, not because I have any doubts that he's the Panda I want to be with for the rest of my life, but more so because I wonder if I'm doing him a disservice. I've never had to nickel and dime it, never had to save up for much of anything - I either got what I wanted or else I didn't want it that badly. Is someone whose financial philosophy is "you can't take it with you" or "what's the point of money if not to spend it" really ready to having a joint bank account, are they really prepared to be responsible for another person's financial well being? I'm just worried I still have a child's mentality and that I'm going to let him down someday because of that naivete.
On the plus side Dave came to photograph a rehearsal for the play I'm stage managing and is certain in his belief that I'll make a good mother. Like herding kittens, I swear. My director is driving me nuts - I think all of my SMing experience is just racking up names of people I will not be working with in the future. It's an . . . uh, interesting play, very artistic and I do like that it was a collaborative script, but its so blatantly biased it makes my brain die a little every time the curtain goes down. I'm ecstatic about my next project, auditions are Monday, it's the women of the Old Testament and their stories as told through acrobatics and ariel silk - imagine Cirque du Soeil: Genisus but on a much smaller budget.
Hello, my name is angie_di and I'm an obsessive personality - we're over a year away, and that's if we can afford it that soon, and I'm already looking at Nevada law, photographers, public land alcohol policies, making guests lists, looking at dress designs, thinking about fabrics and favors and all kinds of meaningless things. I'm at the point where I'm driving myself nuts let alone poor crisavec. It sucks that what makes me so good at my job, giving undivided attention to all of the details about one single event, should be keeping me up at night wondering what sort of deals I could make with the photographer and how to get power for lights and sound out to Eklutna.
I just felt like sharing a tidbit of the hell I'm putting crisavec through, feel free to give him your sympathies. And the instant he actually proposes I'll let you know in sickening detail (no I'm not getting ahead of myself, yes he is going to ask, the bastard has it planned but other than he's going to do it sometime this summer the twerp won't tell me a damn thing).
Much love - J
Overall life is going well, I still haven't grown up as much as I'd like. Being as close to my parents as I have been since high school I'm still accustomed to the lifestyle I was raised in, a lifestyle neither Dave nor I can possibly afford, even if we were to both work full time. I need to make that adjustment from being able to go-out whenever I feel like it, to having to pack a lunch every morning or else not have lunch that day. We want kids, and unless I suddenly get discovered and go platinum we'll have to make sacrifices and start saving NOW.
I am questioning getting married, not because I have any doubts that he's the Panda I want to be with for the rest of my life, but more so because I wonder if I'm doing him a disservice. I've never had to nickel and dime it, never had to save up for much of anything - I either got what I wanted or else I didn't want it that badly. Is someone whose financial philosophy is "you can't take it with you" or "what's the point of money if not to spend it" really ready to having a joint bank account, are they really prepared to be responsible for another person's financial well being? I'm just worried I still have a child's mentality and that I'm going to let him down someday because of that naivete.
On the plus side Dave came to photograph a rehearsal for the play I'm stage managing and is certain in his belief that I'll make a good mother. Like herding kittens, I swear. My director is driving me nuts - I think all of my SMing experience is just racking up names of people I will not be working with in the future. It's an . . . uh, interesting play, very artistic and I do like that it was a collaborative script, but its so blatantly biased it makes my brain die a little every time the curtain goes down. I'm ecstatic about my next project, auditions are Monday, it's the women of the Old Testament and their stories as told through acrobatics and ariel silk - imagine Cirque du Soeil: Genisus but on a much smaller budget.
Hello, my name is angie_di and I'm an obsessive personality - we're over a year away, and that's if we can afford it that soon, and I'm already looking at Nevada law, photographers, public land alcohol policies, making guests lists, looking at dress designs, thinking about fabrics and favors and all kinds of meaningless things. I'm at the point where I'm driving myself nuts let alone poor crisavec. It sucks that what makes me so good at my job, giving undivided attention to all of the details about one single event, should be keeping me up at night wondering what sort of deals I could make with the photographer and how to get power for lights and sound out to Eklutna.
I just felt like sharing a tidbit of the hell I'm putting crisavec through, feel free to give him your sympathies. And the instant he actually proposes I'll let you know in sickening detail (no I'm not getting ahead of myself, yes he is going to ask, the bastard has it planned but other than he's going to do it sometime this summer the twerp won't tell me a damn thing).
Much love - J
Sekrit Message
Nov. 24th, 2008 10:08 amFor the PreFinanced Panda:
Sneezing Panda
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=
(Well, the intent is there, even if the link won't work.)
Sneezing Panda
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=
(Well, the intent is there, even if the link won't work.)
Brat 2.0 : now with more bitching action
May. 6th, 2008 10:49 amYears ago, back in my early high school years, I would listen to my male friends complain about their girlfriends. Specifically the things they would do or the games they would play that just left the boys tied-up in knots and uncertain what they were doing wrong. I didn't get it any better than they did, I thought the girls were being petty, stupid, childish and looking to get dumped for pulling stunts like that rather than sitting their boyfriends down and telling them what was up and how to go about fixing the problem. I swore I wouldn't ever behave that way, I was certain my thought process was to masculine to get that muddled.
Yeah, this weekend that fell through. In my defense as soon as I realized what I was doing I tried to stop, and for the most part I succeeded. Starting Friday nothing could please me: I looked drab despite the make up I had on, I did a mediocre job and was easily surpassed in talent by the other singers at the Cabaret, I was too fat to be pretty . . . on and on and on and on, thought like that just kept repeating and it made me irritable and insecure and just miserable. Our plans for the weekend didn't improve my mood.
On Saturday we went to go see Iron Man (the highlight of my day) and then didn't have time for lunch, or to go any where because we had to run off to Dave's friend's husband's retirement ceremony. We got lost and were stressing and it was actually scheduled for Sunday.
In an attempt to salvage my mood Dave drove us down to Bird Point (I had hoped to go walking around Valley of the Moon and enjoy the sunshine strolling and holding hands) it would have been lovely had it not been for the ridiculous amount of wind that almost bowled me over and went right through my sweater.
We went back to Anchorage and the bad weather followed so there was no chance of my lovely, lazy afternoon. It wasn't all bad, we went home and cuddled on the couch and watched Shrek, then I dropped him off at Coots so he could go to Charlotte's going away party while I killed time reading graphic novels at Barnes and Nobles.
I was determined to be unhappy and bitter about being left out. I was acting like a child and it irritated me.
Sunday things were better, we went to Brian's retirement. I was just as awkward and uncomfortable as I expected to be. Not only was I surrounded by people 10-20 years my seniors, all military, but the only youth I could have amused myself with has barely spoken ten words to me the two times I've met her. So I spent the entire hour and a half closely inspecting the murals, hiding behind Dave in an attempt at mingling, or buried deep in my book pretending I wasn't there.
I can be perfectly comfortable around 15-30 year olds, or small groups of 1-70 year olds but I'm so painfully shy around people where I am not the norm, either in age, experience, or personality.
Sunday was better all around, as Dave put it "you changed your tune. Yesterday it was 'I hate you, get away from me', I like today's tune much better" "Love you too, Panda." I was able to articulate what had been bothering me the days before and with some frame of reference and perspective neither of us were as temperamental as we were before - much more me than him, of course.
I just need to chill, life is stressful enough without adding drama.
Yeah, this weekend that fell through. In my defense as soon as I realized what I was doing I tried to stop, and for the most part I succeeded. Starting Friday nothing could please me: I looked drab despite the make up I had on, I did a mediocre job and was easily surpassed in talent by the other singers at the Cabaret, I was too fat to be pretty . . . on and on and on and on, thought like that just kept repeating and it made me irritable and insecure and just miserable. Our plans for the weekend didn't improve my mood.
On Saturday we went to go see Iron Man (the highlight of my day) and then didn't have time for lunch, or to go any where because we had to run off to Dave's friend's husband's retirement ceremony. We got lost and were stressing and it was actually scheduled for Sunday.
In an attempt to salvage my mood Dave drove us down to Bird Point (I had hoped to go walking around Valley of the Moon and enjoy the sunshine strolling and holding hands) it would have been lovely had it not been for the ridiculous amount of wind that almost bowled me over and went right through my sweater.
We went back to Anchorage and the bad weather followed so there was no chance of my lovely, lazy afternoon. It wasn't all bad, we went home and cuddled on the couch and watched Shrek, then I dropped him off at Coots so he could go to Charlotte's going away party while I killed time reading graphic novels at Barnes and Nobles.
I was determined to be unhappy and bitter about being left out. I was acting like a child and it irritated me.
Sunday things were better, we went to Brian's retirement. I was just as awkward and uncomfortable as I expected to be. Not only was I surrounded by people 10-20 years my seniors, all military, but the only youth I could have amused myself with has barely spoken ten words to me the two times I've met her. So I spent the entire hour and a half closely inspecting the murals, hiding behind Dave in an attempt at mingling, or buried deep in my book pretending I wasn't there.
I can be perfectly comfortable around 15-30 year olds, or small groups of 1-70 year olds but I'm so painfully shy around people where I am not the norm, either in age, experience, or personality.
Sunday was better all around, as Dave put it "you changed your tune. Yesterday it was 'I hate you, get away from me', I like today's tune much better" "Love you too, Panda." I was able to articulate what had been bothering me the days before and with some frame of reference and perspective neither of us were as temperamental as we were before - much more me than him, of course.
I just need to chill, life is stressful enough without adding drama.
Welcome to Spring Break! (kinda)
My mother has me working at the office, I have more homework due Monday than I care to think about, my boyfriend is gone all week for work, and I'm either having a particularly nasty reaction to new meds (stomach cramps that almost made me pass out over the weekend) or else exceptionally coincidental timing on a tummy bug courtesy of Nick.
So far life is going okay. Dave and I haven't killed each other yet, we've been living together a month now. This weekend we discovered a new trick to keep us from going insane. The biggest source of contention between us is that he's an introvert, while I am decidedly not. I've never been diagnosed with ADD but from his descriptions I wouldn't be surprised if I had a mild form of it. He copes with his brain by shutting it off; sitting down with a computer for hours, reading random threads, and letting it drink up as much useless trivia as it wants from the ether. I don't have his endurance and I can't stand to be on my laptop for more than two hours at a time. If I sit still with nothing to do for too long all hell breaks loose and I can't control where my mind takes me (usually I end up at the dark-abyss-y end of a self-psychoanalysis spiral that is dripping with snot and tears and with no end in sight). This weekend when things went that way (thanks meds) we both came to an understanding. From now on when he wants a day of doing absolutely nothing, and I can't stand to stay still that long, he's going to give me $20, a kiss goodbye and ship me off to the movies. He can recuperate at home uninterrupted and I can veg out in a dark theater with a mega-gulp and popcorn.
(I've tried watching movies at home but unless we're snuggling on the couch I get restless, there must be something better I can do with my time - make dinner, do the dishes, etc. At the theater sitting and zonking out is what you came there to do, there's nothing else to stress about)
What else?
Umm, I had a perfectly lovely day last Tuesday. I got a 'callback' in my auditions class (we did a mock audition and he filled out sheets grading 1-5 on monologue selection/contrast, performance, appearance, charisma/congeniality, and interview. I got 5/5 on selection, and 4/5 on everything else. Plus at the bottom is said 'Callback: Yes _ No__') ^.^ Followed by an A- on my Western Civ. 2 mid-term. And, last but certainly not least, Dave finally found (and won) my camera. I am the proud owner of a slightly used (but remarkably well looked after) Nikon D200. Yes, let's hear it for professional quality, and its all mine Baby! Now all I need are a few lenses of my own (we're currently sharing the handful he has but it would be nice to get a macro lens for me since he has no interest in it).
Ack, gotta run, more later. ~J
My mother has me working at the office, I have more homework due Monday than I care to think about, my boyfriend is gone all week for work, and I'm either having a particularly nasty reaction to new meds (stomach cramps that almost made me pass out over the weekend) or else exceptionally coincidental timing on a tummy bug courtesy of Nick.
So far life is going okay. Dave and I haven't killed each other yet, we've been living together a month now. This weekend we discovered a new trick to keep us from going insane. The biggest source of contention between us is that he's an introvert, while I am decidedly not. I've never been diagnosed with ADD but from his descriptions I wouldn't be surprised if I had a mild form of it. He copes with his brain by shutting it off; sitting down with a computer for hours, reading random threads, and letting it drink up as much useless trivia as it wants from the ether. I don't have his endurance and I can't stand to be on my laptop for more than two hours at a time. If I sit still with nothing to do for too long all hell breaks loose and I can't control where my mind takes me (usually I end up at the dark-abyss-y end of a self-psychoanalysis spiral that is dripping with snot and tears and with no end in sight). This weekend when things went that way (thanks meds) we both came to an understanding. From now on when he wants a day of doing absolutely nothing, and I can't stand to stay still that long, he's going to give me $20, a kiss goodbye and ship me off to the movies. He can recuperate at home uninterrupted and I can veg out in a dark theater with a mega-gulp and popcorn.
(I've tried watching movies at home but unless we're snuggling on the couch I get restless, there must be something better I can do with my time - make dinner, do the dishes, etc. At the theater sitting and zonking out is what you came there to do, there's nothing else to stress about)
What else?
Umm, I had a perfectly lovely day last Tuesday. I got a 'callback' in my auditions class (we did a mock audition and he filled out sheets grading 1-5 on monologue selection/contrast, performance, appearance, charisma/congeniality, and interview. I got 5/5 on selection, and 4/5 on everything else. Plus at the bottom is said 'Callback: Yes _ No__') ^.^ Followed by an A- on my Western Civ. 2 mid-term. And, last but certainly not least, Dave finally found (and won) my camera. I am the proud owner of a slightly used (but remarkably well looked after) Nikon D200. Yes, let's hear it for professional quality, and its all mine Baby! Now all I need are a few lenses of my own (we're currently sharing the handful he has but it would be nice to get a macro lens for me since he has no interest in it).
Ack, gotta run, more later. ~J
Dave - Part 3
Dec. 18th, 2007 03:07 pmContinuing the Saga - First Date: I literally spent the whole day waiting and primping for the date. It was going to be the first one I actually had time to get ready and dress up (for Brian we didn't have a 'date' until we'd kinda sorta been together a week, with Sariah I had asked her out for Friday but got together for a spontaneous first date the Wednesday night before). I went shopping and got a LBD (Little Black Dress) which must have looked cute because when I asked Zach's opinion he said "This is for Dave? He's gonna jump ya."
I took an hour soaking in the shower and gargled half a bottle of mouth wash, then ran to meet my friend Leilani who did my make-up (it was a little more obvious than my typical wear but my eyes looked gorgeous if I do say so myself). So, all prettified and giggly I waited for him to pick me up - I thought it was quite odd that until he was ten minutes late I hadn't once had the fear that he would stand me up. He showed up almost half an hour late but he looked so cute and happy to see me I didn't mind two seconds after I opened the door. (I try and be a 'good girl', since I hadn't succeeded in waiting the three dates before the first kiss with anyone else I was determined to do so with Dave - yeah, that kinda fell apart as soon as I got my coat on. I swear I was going for a cheek, a cute little peck hello, except he turned at the last second and . . . yeah, I pinned him to the wall before we got out the door, but I swear it wasn't my intention.
We went out to dinner (Chilli's - which I found nice and ironic since that's where my parents had their first date) the food was good and we split the dessert. I was twitter-patted, he was endearing trying to think of things to talk about as he had "engineer's blight; we have ten stories and then we can't think of anything to say, so we just tell 'em again". After dinner it was still far to early to go home so we went to the Point. It was lovely and the only other time I had ever been it had been too dark to see. We walked along the beach arm-in-arm talking about our childhoods and random other snippets we thought the other might find interesting. It was windy and given my skirt and heels the beach might not have been the best choice but I loved it all the same, especially when he held me to keep me warm.
It was almost 10 by this time and we couldn't stand to say goodnight so he drove us up to Flatop. It was gorgeous, I'd never been up there at night before (I have a thing for light- stars, fire, Christmas lights, just about anything) and I was dazzled by the view. We chatted and flirted shamelessly until almost midnight, then [Omit detail- that is just for us to know].
I got home a little after 1am, he kissed me goodnight and then I ran to my room to squeal my happiness into my pillow. ~J
I took an hour soaking in the shower and gargled half a bottle of mouth wash, then ran to meet my friend Leilani who did my make-up (it was a little more obvious than my typical wear but my eyes looked gorgeous if I do say so myself). So, all prettified and giggly I waited for him to pick me up - I thought it was quite odd that until he was ten minutes late I hadn't once had the fear that he would stand me up. He showed up almost half an hour late but he looked so cute and happy to see me I didn't mind two seconds after I opened the door. (I try and be a 'good girl', since I hadn't succeeded in waiting the three dates before the first kiss with anyone else I was determined to do so with Dave - yeah, that kinda fell apart as soon as I got my coat on. I swear I was going for a cheek, a cute little peck hello, except he turned at the last second and . . . yeah, I pinned him to the wall before we got out the door, but I swear it wasn't my intention.
We went out to dinner (Chilli's - which I found nice and ironic since that's where my parents had their first date) the food was good and we split the dessert. I was twitter-patted, he was endearing trying to think of things to talk about as he had "engineer's blight; we have ten stories and then we can't think of anything to say, so we just tell 'em again". After dinner it was still far to early to go home so we went to the Point. It was lovely and the only other time I had ever been it had been too dark to see. We walked along the beach arm-in-arm talking about our childhoods and random other snippets we thought the other might find interesting. It was windy and given my skirt and heels the beach might not have been the best choice but I loved it all the same, especially when he held me to keep me warm.
It was almost 10 by this time and we couldn't stand to say goodnight so he drove us up to Flatop. It was gorgeous, I'd never been up there at night before (I have a thing for light- stars, fire, Christmas lights, just about anything) and I was dazzled by the view. We chatted and flirted shamelessly until almost midnight, then [Omit detail- that is just for us to know].
I got home a little after 1am, he kissed me goodnight and then I ran to my room to squeal my happiness into my pillow. ~J
Dave - Part 2
Aug. 21st, 2007 12:42 pmIt was a few days later as I was walking with some friends to my apartment after they finished up “Midnight Soapscum Porn” that I checked my messages and found he’d called me. After I got over my yelp and giggle fit I dictated the number to my friend Anthea and had her write it on my arm, her titillated and vaguely confused expression was worth her parents glaring at me to hurry up.
An hour or so later, I’d said goodnight to my friends and after having tried two other variations on the number - he slurred the last few digits so it took me a few tries and some embarrassed apologies before I got a hold of him. I was walking to Blockbuster on Boniface from my apartment on Bragaw to return a movie and we chatted there and back. He told me all about his psychotic spring and the horror stories there in. For almost two hours I dawdled outside flirting with him until almost midnight when it was getting chilly and he had to go to bed.
The next night was more of the same except I had a party to go to and he had work so we only talked for an hour or so. I was in an amazingly good mood after we hung up, and when I get like that I start becoming hazardous to my mental/emotional health – it makes me bold.
I called him back as I was driving, he didn’t pick up this time (which is probably for the best otherwise I never would have said what I did – that’s a lie, I probably would have but the feeling of wanting to curl up in embarrassment would have been exponentially greater). The message went something along these lines, “Hey Dave, this is Jess. I was calling because I wanted to know are you ever planning on asking me out – or am I reading way too much into things? If you weren’t its cool, I’m more than happy being just friends but if you were I’d really like that. So anyway I’m probably making no sense, and hopefully you won’t think less of me when you get this, I’ve gotta go – I’m driving and would kinda hate to die when things are just starting to get interesting. So. Bye. *click*” No, that was not edited to make me sound better; I really was that juvenile and out of my mind.
The party was fun, brief since I had to work in the morning but it was nice to see Paul again and Pope before he left. I tried to ignore the slivers of doubt when I excited told them I had a date, but as iggy as that might have made me feel Pope trying to guess who it was was highly entertaining. “You know him from Faire, I’ll say that much.” “Hmm, so is he in one of the courts?” “Nope.” “A peasant?” “Nope. He isn’t an actor.” “One of the vendors?” “Guess again.” “One of the tech directors?” “Nope but he does something tech related.” He circled around it for almost thirty minutes before going, “I have no idea unless it’s the photographer.” “Uh huh.” “What really? Dude! You and the photographer?! Huh . . . I wouldn’t have picked that match. Cool, good for you.”
The next evening Dave called me again, in my bubbliness that he called me (yes I am young, and yes I am a girl, I must accept these things and move on) I had forgotten the last thing I’d said to him – he hadn’t. My mood went from 60 to 0 in under 0.8 seconds. The bastard tortured me, “I’ll answer your question after you tell me how the party went last night.” So I told him about seeing the boys, Pope’s guessing and then teasing me about it. Then I waited for his response, “The answer is . . . yes, I am planning on asking you out, that was actually my plan before I ever first called you.” “Really?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure whether you were interested or whether you were just flirting to flirt. Then I got your message . . .” *blush*
He was going out of town for the weekend on a bear watching trip so the soonest we could go out was the next Friday. Now that we knew what was what we teased and flirted in earnest trying to figure each other out. Alli came out and stared at me giggling on the floor in the living room, until I explained who it was on the other end then she nodded in understanding and got herself some miniwheats.
To Be Continued . . . ~J
An hour or so later, I’d said goodnight to my friends and after having tried two other variations on the number - he slurred the last few digits so it took me a few tries and some embarrassed apologies before I got a hold of him. I was walking to Blockbuster on Boniface from my apartment on Bragaw to return a movie and we chatted there and back. He told me all about his psychotic spring and the horror stories there in. For almost two hours I dawdled outside flirting with him until almost midnight when it was getting chilly and he had to go to bed.
The next night was more of the same except I had a party to go to and he had work so we only talked for an hour or so. I was in an amazingly good mood after we hung up, and when I get like that I start becoming hazardous to my mental/emotional health – it makes me bold.
I called him back as I was driving, he didn’t pick up this time (which is probably for the best otherwise I never would have said what I did – that’s a lie, I probably would have but the feeling of wanting to curl up in embarrassment would have been exponentially greater). The message went something along these lines, “Hey Dave, this is Jess. I was calling because I wanted to know are you ever planning on asking me out – or am I reading way too much into things? If you weren’t its cool, I’m more than happy being just friends but if you were I’d really like that. So anyway I’m probably making no sense, and hopefully you won’t think less of me when you get this, I’ve gotta go – I’m driving and would kinda hate to die when things are just starting to get interesting. So. Bye. *click*” No, that was not edited to make me sound better; I really was that juvenile and out of my mind.
The party was fun, brief since I had to work in the morning but it was nice to see Paul again and Pope before he left. I tried to ignore the slivers of doubt when I excited told them I had a date, but as iggy as that might have made me feel Pope trying to guess who it was was highly entertaining. “You know him from Faire, I’ll say that much.” “Hmm, so is he in one of the courts?” “Nope.” “A peasant?” “Nope. He isn’t an actor.” “One of the vendors?” “Guess again.” “One of the tech directors?” “Nope but he does something tech related.” He circled around it for almost thirty minutes before going, “I have no idea unless it’s the photographer.” “Uh huh.” “What really? Dude! You and the photographer?! Huh . . . I wouldn’t have picked that match. Cool, good for you.”
The next evening Dave called me again, in my bubbliness that he called me (yes I am young, and yes I am a girl, I must accept these things and move on) I had forgotten the last thing I’d said to him – he hadn’t. My mood went from 60 to 0 in under 0.8 seconds. The bastard tortured me, “I’ll answer your question after you tell me how the party went last night.” So I told him about seeing the boys, Pope’s guessing and then teasing me about it. Then I waited for his response, “The answer is . . . yes, I am planning on asking you out, that was actually my plan before I ever first called you.” “Really?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure whether you were interested or whether you were just flirting to flirt. Then I got your message . . .” *blush*
He was going out of town for the weekend on a bear watching trip so the soonest we could go out was the next Friday. Now that we knew what was what we teased and flirted in earnest trying to figure each other out. Alli came out and stared at me giggling on the floor in the living room, until I explained who it was on the other end then she nodded in understanding and got herself some miniwheats.
To Be Continued . . . ~J
Dave - Part 1
Aug. 9th, 2007 04:54 pmHow we met: Technically I’ve known/known-of him for three years but I didn’t introduce myself until this summer. He’s the official photographer for the Three Barons Ren Faire. During tech week the girls of my court were passing around lollipops, and at one point I turned to my right and found the image of eight girls (in garb no less) sucking on lollipops in sync oddly funny, I had a friend get up and “Go grab the photographer” “What?” “Just get him, he’s over there.” He immediately saw the shot and snagged it, I was very proud.
To be honest I don’t remember much contact during that first weekend of faire, I’m sure I saw him around since he’s everywhere during faire but I don’t remember speaking to him in earnest until that following Tuesday.
The Friday night between the weekends is the Mid-Faire feast, it’s been that way for years, they charge $20 for a ticket and you go enjoy good music, great food, and hang out with your friends while supporting a worthy cause. I sadly couldn’t go because of Perfect Prayer, however on the Tuesday night before they had a freebie get together on-site and I went with my shiny new Laurell K. Hamilton and tried to read despite the wind whipping hair into my face and the sunlight almost blinding me. Since I’m still underage I was sitting on the tables outside the Toad trying to read. The photographer, whose name I couldn’t remember for the life of me, got bored and decided to come talk to me, I still have no idea what compelled him. We talked over the fence separating the bar from the younglings for about half an hour before I told him he was being ridiculous and that he should either go back to his friends or else come outside and join me. Surprisingly he decided to come out, saying that I was interesting company which made turn bright cherry, I’m hoping he thought it was a chill from the wind, or else he didn’t notice. We talked for almost two hours about photography (it’s his passion rather than his career, so he’s just as crazy as the rest of us who work our asses off for fun rather than a paycheck), his time in the air force, his job (he’s an IT-sys. admin, I think, most of the words he used left me blinking and smiling politely, hopefully it seemed like I understood him), my love of roller coasters (I think I must have looked crazed but he didn’t run in fright) and lord knows what else. Finally he said he had to go back to his friends and I said I ought to go home.
The last weekend of Faire I flirted with everyone shamelessly, as in my way when I play Ambrosia. The second Saturday party was lovely because I had Isaac and Caiti giving me hand massages while the photographer (whose name I struggled to remember the whole night- its Dave by the way) gave me a back rub, needless to say I was one content kitty. Dave stayed around and chatted with us until Bobadil ended and then ran off to play with the other adults at the Toad, apparently there was jousting and my baron went flying before promptly kicking Frank’s ass. Whenever I saw him during those last two days I’d tease him and try to get him to go peasant dance or to sit down and lounge, he kept turning me down but I think it was because he was genuinely busy rather than wanting to ditch me, he always teased me back and would track me down later.
At strike we chatted some more while everyone was winding down but before we started ripping everything apart. I tied ribbons around his neck, I have no idea why – they were at hand and I felt like doing something to him. Later I got them back and he told me he’d be back for them – we he did return I teased him and tried to get him to go for my back pocket himself but I think I must have pushed too far since he politely declined to grab my ass.
As strike was winding down (around Midnight, we were damn quick this year) I went around exchanging phone numbers, he asked for mine but neglected to give me his. I said goodnight and went off to talk to Pope who was leaving the next week. Along my way I found a bouquet of roses someone had thrown away, I gave one to Pope, two to Dave as he was getting into his truck, and kept the last one which is now hanging off of my bookcase.
- - -
Jesus I talk a lot, and we aren't even up to him asking me out or our first date, let alone the Paulstock/BBQ/Cabin weekend.
Save yourself. Fuzz ~J
To be honest I don’t remember much contact during that first weekend of faire, I’m sure I saw him around since he’s everywhere during faire but I don’t remember speaking to him in earnest until that following Tuesday.
The Friday night between the weekends is the Mid-Faire feast, it’s been that way for years, they charge $20 for a ticket and you go enjoy good music, great food, and hang out with your friends while supporting a worthy cause. I sadly couldn’t go because of Perfect Prayer, however on the Tuesday night before they had a freebie get together on-site and I went with my shiny new Laurell K. Hamilton and tried to read despite the wind whipping hair into my face and the sunlight almost blinding me. Since I’m still underage I was sitting on the tables outside the Toad trying to read. The photographer, whose name I couldn’t remember for the life of me, got bored and decided to come talk to me, I still have no idea what compelled him. We talked over the fence separating the bar from the younglings for about half an hour before I told him he was being ridiculous and that he should either go back to his friends or else come outside and join me. Surprisingly he decided to come out, saying that I was interesting company which made turn bright cherry, I’m hoping he thought it was a chill from the wind, or else he didn’t notice. We talked for almost two hours about photography (it’s his passion rather than his career, so he’s just as crazy as the rest of us who work our asses off for fun rather than a paycheck), his time in the air force, his job (he’s an IT-sys. admin, I think, most of the words he used left me blinking and smiling politely, hopefully it seemed like I understood him), my love of roller coasters (I think I must have looked crazed but he didn’t run in fright) and lord knows what else. Finally he said he had to go back to his friends and I said I ought to go home.
The last weekend of Faire I flirted with everyone shamelessly, as in my way when I play Ambrosia. The second Saturday party was lovely because I had Isaac and Caiti giving me hand massages while the photographer (whose name I struggled to remember the whole night- its Dave by the way) gave me a back rub, needless to say I was one content kitty. Dave stayed around and chatted with us until Bobadil ended and then ran off to play with the other adults at the Toad, apparently there was jousting and my baron went flying before promptly kicking Frank’s ass. Whenever I saw him during those last two days I’d tease him and try to get him to go peasant dance or to sit down and lounge, he kept turning me down but I think it was because he was genuinely busy rather than wanting to ditch me, he always teased me back and would track me down later.
At strike we chatted some more while everyone was winding down but before we started ripping everything apart. I tied ribbons around his neck, I have no idea why – they were at hand and I felt like doing something to him. Later I got them back and he told me he’d be back for them – we he did return I teased him and tried to get him to go for my back pocket himself but I think I must have pushed too far since he politely declined to grab my ass.
As strike was winding down (around Midnight, we were damn quick this year) I went around exchanging phone numbers, he asked for mine but neglected to give me his. I said goodnight and went off to talk to Pope who was leaving the next week. Along my way I found a bouquet of roses someone had thrown away, I gave one to Pope, two to Dave as he was getting into his truck, and kept the last one which is now hanging off of my bookcase.
- - -
Jesus I talk a lot, and we aren't even up to him asking me out or our first date, let alone the Paulstock/BBQ/Cabin weekend.
Save yourself. Fuzz ~J
