Evening with Tom
Current mood: Triumphant

Did I mention that Tom invited me to go to a party? We were walking and talking after a bus ride and he had finally successfully asked me for my number. At which point he then invited me to a party he was having Friday evening. I informed him that I had small group, but when it was over, I'd be more than happy to make an appearance.

Friday quickly arrived, small group ran smoothly, and before I knew it I was calling Tom to get the last minute details. He invited me over to his place where a couple of his friends were gathered. Upon arriving Tom made me a chocolate martini. It was rather strong, but yummy, and having not eaten all day it hit me sooner than I expected.

I got to meet Tom's best friend Sara and his other friend Cooper. Apparently he was on a secret mission to set the two up together. They were both rather cute and I was hoping it'd work too. They were friendly and I felt like a part of them right away. It being Sara's birthday, it was up to her to decide what we would be doing. She wanted to go to the Firehaus on Green Street. The four of us piled into Coopers truck and zoomed off.

Deep down I was not excited about this choice, I did not want to be around a lot of people I did not feel comfortable with and in a crappy bar like the Firehaus where only the preps and frat boys hang out. I was going to stick out so bad. But I sucked it up and reminded myself that this night was about Sara, not about me. Tom was in his element. He's quite the social butterfly and was really working it. He introduced me to everybody, most were very receptive. I didn't know what to say or what to do. I talked a little with some of the new folks, but for the most part I just stood in the background. Tom caught on to my discomfort and took me to a less crowded area, bought me a drink, and he, Cooper, and I talked.

So this whole bar scene... I dont know. I have discovered that it is very difficult to talk to a person while in a bar because it's so loud. But a bar is for drinking really and so you get loud drunk people talking and walking around. For me, give me a dance floor. There, I don't have to talk to anyone and I can have fun. I'm in my element when I go dancing. I am free and I don't care. Had there been dancing involved, I would have been happy and fine. Tom did however do his best to keep me entertained.

We started having a deep conversation about who we are and where we were. He seemed to like me but was sheltered and holding back. I was having a really hard time reading him. I made gestures to touch him, to hold him, to rub up against him. While he would respond a little, it lasted only seconds and then he'd run away.

The evening started to wind down and we went upstairs where Sara had been, flirting with some other guy. We talked with some people for a while, Sara and I talked theatre. Then!... this uber drunk dude tripped and totally fell, taking me down with him! Tom saw it happening but could not get to me in time. But Cooper had been right behind me and caught me before I totally kissed floor. Rather embarrassing I must say, but at least it wasn't my fault.

Cooper, Tom, and I called it an evening swiftly after that. Cooper drove Tom and I home and he headed off to visit another friend. When we got in, Tom's roommates were home and they were watching some BattleStar Galactica! I got uber excited and started talking with them. There was an obvious change in my personality and I immediately opened up in this smaller and quieter environment. But at the same time it was akward between Tom and I. I wanted to be close to him and talk with him, but I wasn't sure if he wanted me to leave or stay.

After talking with the guys and watching some BSG I walked into Tom's room and planted myself on his bed. I sat there and waited to see what Tom would do. Finally, he came in and closed the door behind him. He sat down and we started talking. Like I've said, man can Tom talk! But this was different. I was able to talk back and hold a real conversation. We made ourselves comfortable while talking and slowly we moved closer and closer together. Tom stopped fighting and pulling away and finally gave in to me.

The atmosphere of our conversation changed and Tom opened up. He held me close and spoke with me. He commented on how I wouldn't look at him in his eyes. He came so close to kissing me several times, our lips mere millimeters apart. It was intense! The energy and want was there, but neither of us impeded right away. Tom was wearing a button up shirt with a black T underneath. I coily unbuttoned his shirt. He laughed and asked what I was doing. I told him that I wanted to see his Tattoo (do I have a thing for Tats?.. um.. yes!). As I fingered the inky lines on his arms he stared at me. When I looked up at him he asked, "Why me?" I was rather taken aback by this question, but answered as best I could.

Once again he moved closer to me, holding me tightly in his arms. His breathe brushed warmly against my face as we watched each other, anticipating what was about to come. His eyes closed, my eyes closed and we lay in that instant, waiting, welcoming, wanting. Ever so softly he kissed me. It was gentle and delicate as though I were a fragile flower that he might crush. Our first kiss was amazing and I absolutely melted.

We fell asleep in each other's arms that night, quiet, content, and calm.

Glares and Stares
Current mood: Beautiful

For the past couple weeks I've been a little more adventurous with my wardrobe. Well.. nothing crazy really. I've simply been opting to wear short skirts. Normally I wear knee length to floor length skirts, and if I did wear a short skirt, I'd wear it with capris or pants. However, I've been wearing my short skirts sans pants. What has brought the sudden change and more femme style? Well... it's warm enough to be able to do it and cool enough as well. It's perfect temperature to be sporting my beloved plaid/pleated skirts, as well as my short jean skirts. I feel really great when I wear them. I have these killer legs that most people have never seen. It's time to break these babies out and give them some air. They're just too pretty to constantly hide beneath fabric. Plus, I get constant compliments from my friends and co-workers. I have some really cute skirts that have been sitting in my closet not getting any love and attention. Sadly though, winter is just around the bend and soon I'll be putting the short skirts away to be exchanged with pants, tights, and the dreaded.. layers. I gotta live it up while I can!

Despite my obvious enthusiasm about my new style, not everyone agrees with my fashion choice. I see the looks I get from other girls. They glare at me and stare as though I'm comminting some sort of fashion faux-pah. I'd say they're just jealous but many of them have nice legs just like me. And what are they so upset for? There is nothing wrong with dressing up cute. It sure beats walking around campus all day in dingy old sweat pants. If anyone needs a good kick in the fashion rear, it's them. Who was the idiot who decided that matching sweat suits were a good idea? What man wants to take his girl out to dinner while she wears one of those baby pink numbers?

Another thing.. don't glare at me like I'm some sort of hussy. What is revealed by my wearing a short skirt is nothing compared to you in your tight designer jeans. While wearing my skirt all you see is the shape of my legs and probably the width of my hips. When a woman wears pants, her entire body is on display. You can see everything from the curvature of her rear, what type of underwear she's wearing, and straight down into her obvious camel toe. It leaves nothing to the imagination. What you see is what you get.

A part of the disdainful glances might also have something to do with the fact that my hair is different, my jewelry is spikey, my make up extreme, and colors more or less are black. From the outside I'm your typical Goth Girl. Watch out.. she might cast a spell on you! ... oh please. Let's look at my style and compare it with the wonderful creations give to us by God.

My hair tends to be spiked up, in pigtails or a mohawk, depending on my mood and time availability. What's so wrong with that? You think it's unnatural? God bestowed upon the beautiful Cardinal, male and female, a mohawk. Do you hate the Cardinal for its auspicious hairdo? God surely doesn't. He gave horses beautiful tails of hair that we mimic everyday. Because I wear two, does that make me bad? As for spiked hair, have you never seen the purple sea urchin? Their whole body is covered in spikes. If the sea urchin can decorate itself thusly, why can't I?

If you know me well, you'll know one of my favorite pieces of jewelry is my spiked bracelet. All I can say to that is, "Every rose has its thorn." You'll also know that I paint my eyes with eyeliner, deep and dark. So did the Egyptians. Would you go up to Cleopatra and tell her that she looked like a moron for elaborately coloring her eyes? Would you stare her in unbelief because she was making some sort of make-up mistake? No! Cleopatra was a beautiful, powerful, and exotic queen. The Egyptians themselves were a great civilization. By me taking their beauty techniques, I'm honoring a once awesome society.

Finally... I do wear a lot of black. Does this make me evil? Does that mean I'm melancholy? No. God never says that it were forbidden to wear black. Black is a color and if you know anything about color, Black is a combination and conglomeration of all colors. My fashion style and my fashion taste is not what it is that you make it to be. It's me honoring and acknowledging all the beauty that God has given to all of us.

Taking Charge
Current mood: Powerful!

An old buddy from Texas and I have been talking recently. Just keeping in touch, talking about nothing, and discussing relationship issues. It's been fun. It's a shame I didn't get a chance to know him so well while I was in Texas. Nevertheless, our conversations are always good and meaningful. I learn a lot from him and I hope I help him out too. I think I do. Because of our conversations, I feel encouraged to take a little more charge and not to be so passive when it comes to want I want in a relationship. What is it that I want? I want to be friends again with Joe. To really be friends and to not care or think about us ever being more. I want to go have coffee with Tom, the Bus Guy and get to know him better. I want to talk to EB and find out what is really going on. (There are some things I haven't asked, but am curious to know.)

Last night after church I had a talk with Joe. I told him I was angry with him and like most men, he didn't know why exactly. I was angry because while we had agreed to be friends, I'm the only one who makes an effort. He then informed me that his lack of action is because he doesn't really know what to do about 'us.' In his mind, if there is going to be any type of friendship or possible romantic relationship he wants to be the one to take initiative and whatever. .... I love that idea! I encourage him to take charge and lead. I want him to do that. But the problem is... he's not doing that! And from the world I've come from, if the man isn't going to lead, move over buddy and hand me the wheel! I get that from my mother.

Now that I know that's how he feels I totally relinquish any initiative towards that aspect of our friendship. However, he has to invite me to stuff, call me on occassion, and for goodness sake.. say hi to me at church! Because if he doesn't, how else am I going to know? So the Joe situation is wrapped up in a nice neat little package. I hope.

As for Tom, I seriously had no i dea when if ever I would see him again. After talking with Luke (my friend from Texas) I was concerned I might have given him the impression that I was not interested. That of course is not the case at all! In my mind I therefore concocted a plot that the next time I saw him, I'd be sure to really let him know and invite him to coffee or something. .... that opportunity came earlier than I expected. This morning as I was getting on the bus, Tom magically appeared out from inside the Bus Stop! I was so excited. Again we began to talk through a sea of people, making anyone within our vacinity very uncomfortable. But screw them, I was getting to talk to Tom. We talked about our busy weekends where I mentioned that I spent all of Sunday at church. A part of me really wanted to see how he'd react. Happily, he professed that he was a Christian as well and too enjoyed the Vineyard. We will be getting coffee soon, but before we could exchange numbers or concrete plans the bus arrived at my regularly scheduled stop. I should see him tonight though on the ride back home.

The EB situation is a little more complex and will have to wait for another blog. Till then, adieux my beloved readers. Fare thee well in all they endeavors.