On Being in Love (like a goon)

Oh yeah, 2ish megapixel front-facing phone camera pictures! Nothing says “Awesome picture, is it 1999?” like the poor quality photos that the forward camera on my iPhone takes. (I know, I know, quit complaining you lucky bitch. But still, I don’t own a digital camera. I need to milk the phone technology for all it’s worth.)

Swisher has been staying at my house since Monday. He leaves today for Boulder. I’m excited to have my space back (long, hot, bubble baths whenever I want! and sleep at realistic, reasonable hours every night!), but I’m also a little bummed. We’ve been pretty much connected at the hip since Friday night. I am getting pretty used to having him around.

On Monday, he let me rest my exhausted bones on the couch while he made chicken for our salad. When he served me a bowl full of salad, he had shaved the carrots just the way I like them. (Last time we cooked, I complained that the chunks of carrots lessened my enjoyment of the salad. I was just talking out loud, though, and did not expect to find myself greeted with shaved carrots. They were wonderful, and I ate the whole bowl.)

He thinks I’m too skinny, so he’s been working on feeding me. And he’s been doing a great job. Yesterday, I took pineapple, lasagna, and brownies for lunch! In tupperware, like a real human being!

Knowing that he’s been cooped up in my apartment all week (he’s allergic to Carlos, too, so he’s pretty thrilled to be getting away), I suggested that we go to trivia last night. We both love bar trivia. We won the first round, which meant that I got to pick concert tickets. Since the ticket offerings were a bunch of bands I didn’t know, I jumped when I saw the Mickey Avalon tickets. So, thanks to his history knowledge and my awesomeness, we are seeing Mickey Avalon later this month. For free.

We won a few more rounds, which ended in a variety of contests. At one point, I was supposed to pour a beer into his mouth, which you can imagine ended in disaster. He was covered in beer and not very happy with me. (Oops.) We make a pretty good trivia team, even though we probably need to add a team member who can chug beer and pour correctly. (I’ll be the looks, he’ll be the brains, and the random can be the muscle.)

We got home, and I was exhausted (that’s the major theme in my life – exhaustion. My motto seems to be: Be as exhausted as possible at all times), so I curled up on the couch with a blanket and promptly fell asleep. I woke up to Carlos kneading my stomach at 4:30 this morning. Apparently, in my sleep I told Matt  that I’d rather sleep on the couch than go to bed. (Haha, last Saturday, after his going-away party, he came in to the room where I was sleeping, and I told him that if he wanted to talk, he should leave. [Keep in mind that it was like 4am, I’d been asleep for two hours, and I had to drive to Colorado the next day.] So he left and slept on the couch. He was very grumpy about it the next morning. I felt terrible, but started to laugh after a while. He’s so cute when he’s upset, and it’s hard not to smile. Sleep me is a very mean, apparently. Or just very protective of my sleep-time.)

I don’t know where this is going, but I do know that both of us are pretty excited. It’s been two and a half years since I walked into that party and saw him for the first time, and I can’t believe that we’re finally doing this. I told him last night that I’m not looking for anything too serious, too soon. But it’s also funny because we’ve already had to address all of the high-level issues before we could even date. So now, we’re left with “Does he like peas?” and other little things. It’s nice and nerve-wracking all at once. It’s the combination of “I love you” and the “Omg, second date” nervous that keeps me on my toes.


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