progress report

You know you had a good time when you can't fully remember the good time you had.

Pieces of Sunday night keep returning to me. Apparently, at the second bar we went to, I chastised my friend for not noticing one of the men we were talking to was married. Apparently, I did this by holding up the married guy's left hand, using him as an example as I waved it pointedly and told her she needed to learn to spot the ring. I don't remember doing this, and this was before the shots and drinks at the third bar. Oh boy.

I do remember Lawyer Dave. Last night, I woke up several times throughout the night and kept smelling his cologne on my pillow. It made me wistful and a little lonely. I recall more and more of the night, like how he noticed I had gotten a manicure recently (because he has several sisters) . How he opened doors for me and wouldn't take any money for the taxi. How every time I looked at him I got a rush of pleasure at how attractive he was. How no man has made me laugh like that in a long time. When I looked at him, I felt like I knew him on the inside. I tried to read him and saw lots of white. This was a pure man who was unblemished by the past and would write his own future (he said everything I told him about himself was accurate, though I wonder if my insight made him want me as a psychic friend instead of lover). As much as I would like to be part of his white future, it makes me sad that I probably won't hear from him. I'm not being a pessimist, I just know better than to get my hopes up, especially for a guy who lives in another city who I met while very drunk.

Luckily, I have other boys lined up to fight the He's Not Gonna Call blues. Tomorrow, I have a date with Dancer Tom. At least, I hope it's a date. The first time we went out, we ended up making out (great kisser). The second time, we only had an hour or two to meet and the smooching opportunity never presented itself. The third time, we were out for six hours and had these terrific, in-depth conversations. However, there was still no kiss, even though we were in a very dark corner of a bar at one point. This leads me to believe that we may have crossed over into the dreaded Friend Territory. We'll see. I wouldn't mind being friends with Tom, but to remember how nice the kisses were and have to settle for conversation only would be a teeny bit frustrating. The bar I chose for tomorrow is very kiss-friendly (low lighting, couches, good music), so this will be the make or break date (or "date").

Regardless of Lawyer Dave or Dancer Tom, I have other things on the boil. I'm currently corresponding with two very promising OP guys and I think a date with one of them is eminent.

Keeping three or more men on the go right now is crucial, for several reasons. First of all, I get attached very easily. I fall too hard too fast. Splintering my attention between more than one prospect eases the anxiety of waiting to hear from them, trying to figure out how they feel about me, and all the other fun torture related to dating. Second of all, because I am in the initial stages with all these men, they can disappear at any second (even Tom) and it's less painful if I have other possibilities.

The downside of juggling is that it can get exhausting. The energy and optimism can only stretch so far and burnout is a distinct possibility. Especially if things fall through with every single one of these guys. But they won't. My Spidey Sense is telling me something good is on the horizon...