wine and cheese market

I was a little worried that my date with Mr. Secret Service would be compromised because of my tell-all journal confessionals. In fact, I thought he'd already read everything in my blog leaving him at an unfair advantage. In addition, the man is skilled in the art of interrogation and is excellent at keeping much to himself. I figured I was screwed.

I was pleasantly surprised when he told me he hadn't read most of the blog. He did add that I might want to rethink posting my inner most thoughts online in such a permanent way.

Hmmm...

However, I am glad that he's still in the same position that I am in with him - the extraction stage. The time when I pull out small nuggets of info trying to decide if this guy is going to take up some residence in my life or if we'll end up back to being strangers.

Dating is fun. Sorta. I think I know everything about everything so it is interesting to hear that some people would rather watch a movie at home than go to a show. Or that Halloween wasn't a big deal except when going as Hannible Lector. Or what sacking a quarterback means. Or that in the Book of Jobe, a lot of bad shit happened. Cool.

Still, it's hard getting to know somebody. It's not like when you're four and you show some other knock-knee'd kid your new Matchbox car. Just like that, you are BFFs for life... or at least thru kindergarten.

Newness is ok, but it's not what I look forward to. I'd much rather be in the comfortable silence stage of the game. My favorite part of being intimate is the private connection - like, when at the same moment, you look each other in the eye and realize it's time to pay the bar bill and go get naked.

I wish I could fast forward to knowing glances and inside jokes... the sighs, the stares and the stars.