Now, its only appropriate that I provide you with an update. This morning, I was having a conversation with BB about fountain pens as we ate our bagel sandwiches (yes, I realize that this is a really, really, really dorky conversation to have, but you should see what people pay for those things!). In early May, you may remember that I was obsessing over a certain boy's borrowed fountain pen (http://www.lovecynicism.com/2008/05/dorky-fountain-pen-sends-me-into-fit.html) Then obsessed about whether to return it or not. I shouldn't have bothered.
He sold it.
I grinned on the inside when he told me that, as I thought, "wow! That's so going in the blog!" I think I nearly choked on my egg and cheese. I absolutely obsessed about whether to return it or not, and he gets it back and sells it on eBay. So much for being sentimental...
Now back to the part that you are likely most interested in. Yes, I was at BB's house early on Sunday morning. For two weekends in a row. Honestly, its been really nice. Last weekend, we had lunch, sex, dinner, then a concert. This weekend, movie, dinner and sex. Its probably getting too easy. We are seeing each other weekly. The text messages (innocent ones) are getting more frequent and it seemed almost expected to both of us that I was hanging out for most of the day, then spending the night.
On another topic, I played more silly little girl games this weekend, which he actually passed. We saw the new Bond movie (I swear, a person was killed or injured for every line of dialogue...). We got pretzel bites for a snack. They were rather disgusting and I only ate a couple, but as he was getting towards the bottom I thought "he's going to eat them all and not even check to see if I wanted any more!" Wrong. He offered me the last one. I giggled and said no. I mean, was he reading my mind? About a quarter of the way through the movie, he leaned over and whispered "are you cold yet?" The damn movie theater started out steaming, then they slowly lowered the temperature to freezing, so yes, I was. He handed over his jacket.
Then, later on, that jerk offered me the last piece of chocolate. He even had the balls to remember that I had never seen Superman (the original) and went to find it while I tried to figure out if I still had an account at Blockbuster (four of them, it turns out). How am I supposed to say mean nasty things about him when his mother obviously did such a good job pounding good manners into his head, and he remembers conversations we had that I don't even remember having? Jeez.
Hopefully he will do something stupid to piss me off soon so I can stop deluding myself into thinking that this thing we have going on is actually acceptable.