Monday, August 21, 2006
A Celebration, Bitches
I am BONE tired. I've had a bagel, a hot chocolate liberally laced with coffee and 2 Aleve and I am still not functioning at normal levels. And I'm fairly sick to my stomach, but I think that can be traced back directly to the Doritos that I ate right before I went to bed last night.
The tiredness could be the direct result of enormous amounts of stress at work, coupled with a weekend that never seemed to stop going.
It's Marc's birthday today. So Karen and I agreed to make him and some friends dinner on Saturday. Friday night, we went shopping and did some early preparation. As an added bonus to the evening, I got an unexpected call while wandering the aisles at Pathmark. Dave was on his way to Europe for 2 weeks for business and called me from the airport to say goodbye. We talked until Karen forced me off the phone so I could concentrate on how much cheese to buy. He really is quite adorable. I'm very taken with him.
Saturday morning, Karen and I made our usual trek to the beach and then upon arriving back home, went about 90 miles an hour for the next 5-6 hours cooking for a large group of people and then cleaning up afterwards. I spent most of the evening in the kitchen, swatting at hands to stop eating my freshly cut up mangoes and trying to decode Marc's behavior. Touch was frequent and persistent. Whenever he needed me to move for any reason, he showed me by placing his hands on my hips and gently moving me to the side. Anything needed to be said was communicated by coming up very close behind me and speaking closely in my ear. As I stood at the sink, up to my elbows in dirty dishes, he came up to me, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me soundly on the cheek.
"What was that for?" I asked
"Just being you," he replied.
He treated me differently than any other female there. He paid more attention to me than anyone else. Dirty comments were thrown right and left. There were a couple of minor wrestling bouts and one insanely amusing conversation.
Me: Marc, come here for a second
Marc (moving in closely behind me): yeah?
Me: Who was that guy, standing on the stairs with Adam (his roommate) last night? Bald head? Two earrings?
Marc (a little pissy): I don't know. I don't know who that was.
Me: Cause Karen thought he was hot, so next time he's over you should give her a holler.
Marc: Oh, Don?
As I was preparing to leave, around 3 am, he kept hugging me and saying good night. And as a large group of us stood at the door, he came and stood next to me, his hand touching mine until I left.
One more big squeeze at the gate. Quietly calling me 'sexy' in my ear.
And I'm more confused than ever.
I love what we have. The comraderie. The comfort of a friend and the sizzle of the sexual tension.
But it can't stay this way.
We either need to act on what's brewing between us or stop the shenanigans.
The tiredness could be the direct result of enormous amounts of stress at work, coupled with a weekend that never seemed to stop going.
It's Marc's birthday today. So Karen and I agreed to make him and some friends dinner on Saturday. Friday night, we went shopping and did some early preparation. As an added bonus to the evening, I got an unexpected call while wandering the aisles at Pathmark. Dave was on his way to Europe for 2 weeks for business and called me from the airport to say goodbye. We talked until Karen forced me off the phone so I could concentrate on how much cheese to buy. He really is quite adorable. I'm very taken with him.
Saturday morning, Karen and I made our usual trek to the beach and then upon arriving back home, went about 90 miles an hour for the next 5-6 hours cooking for a large group of people and then cleaning up afterwards. I spent most of the evening in the kitchen, swatting at hands to stop eating my freshly cut up mangoes and trying to decode Marc's behavior. Touch was frequent and persistent. Whenever he needed me to move for any reason, he showed me by placing his hands on my hips and gently moving me to the side. Anything needed to be said was communicated by coming up very close behind me and speaking closely in my ear. As I stood at the sink, up to my elbows in dirty dishes, he came up to me, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me soundly on the cheek.
"What was that for?" I asked
"Just being you," he replied.
He treated me differently than any other female there. He paid more attention to me than anyone else. Dirty comments were thrown right and left. There were a couple of minor wrestling bouts and one insanely amusing conversation.
Me: Marc, come here for a second
Marc (moving in closely behind me): yeah?
Me: Who was that guy, standing on the stairs with Adam (his roommate) last night? Bald head? Two earrings?
Marc (a little pissy): I don't know. I don't know who that was.
Me: Cause Karen thought he was hot, so next time he's over you should give her a holler.
Marc: Oh, Don?
As I was preparing to leave, around 3 am, he kept hugging me and saying good night. And as a large group of us stood at the door, he came and stood next to me, his hand touching mine until I left.
One more big squeeze at the gate. Quietly calling me 'sexy' in my ear.
And I'm more confused than ever.
I love what we have. The comraderie. The comfort of a friend and the sizzle of the sexual tension.
But it can't stay this way.
We either need to act on what's brewing between us or stop the shenanigans.
Labels: Marc
