Hey all--Snowelf here. Damsel's computer is in distress, as it has somehow contracted the computer-version of H1N1. It's unclear at this time if it neglected to wash its processor after consorting with other computers or not, although you'd think it would have remembered with every motherboard in the world on Germ Detail, not to mention the 20 thousand highway signs plastered across cities in the U.S. reminding us to wash our hands with soap and scrub down everything with anti-bacterial wipes.

And who knows, it could have also taken all of the precautions to avoid such a tragedy, and still somehow got infected...you know how dirty the internet can be these days....

So until her poor laptop is feeling like its old self again, she just wanted you all to know she has not abandoned this blog, or her dear blogger friends. Things are good, just waiting for her little link to the world to be release from the infirmary with a clean bill of health. :)

Until then...Take care.
(And don't forget to wash your hands!)

--snow

I've been tagged by Christopher at The Warrior Poets to list ten honest things about myself. A couple of years ago, I wrote I Know 101 Things About Myself and Still Counting. It is probably time that I make some amendments to that but for now I will just write the ten true facts. But for fun, I am going to give it a theme...

Running.


1. I am very polite to other runners. I give each and every one of them a nod and a “good morning.”

2. I cannot go for more than two days without running. If I do I am what you call a real Beyatch.

3. I ran my first 10K and placed last in the top 50% overall and in my age/gender bracket. It wasn't bad considering the whole freaking thing went uphill.

4. Once I finally could run a whole mile straight, I swore I had no desire to run two. Once I ran two, I swore I had no desire to run three. Once I ran three, I swore I had no desire to run four. I ran six in my 10K and I swear...I love running four. No really, I swear. Four is good.

5. I get very annoyed at people who smoke on the sidewalks where I am running. I feel like they are contaminating my clean fresh air.

6. I also get very annoyed with people who are walking toward me, SEE me coming, and yet seem very surprised when they almost collide with me. WTF? Wake up people!

7. I run faster when I see police cars and not for the same reason that other people run faster. ;)

8. New running shoes are da bomb!

9. During my runs, I listen to songs that swear a lot.

10. I feel like I am in my own little world when I am running so I am always startled whenever someone tells me, “I saw you running the other day.”


Now I get to tag others. I don't care if you do it or not. I'm only tagging you because I want to learn a little more. If you accept, great! If you don't, it's no biggie. Blogs and writing should be of your own inspiration.

So without further ado...

TR, Exseno, Phos, Gnat (where the hell are you?), Elsewhy, and two random lurkers who can post in my comments if they don't have their own blogs.

A night of recharging. Good quality time. Laughing. Hand holding. Race car driving. No hurries. No rushing.

Just a very much needed date. Just the two of us.

I make dinner. Chicken Divan. We see a movie. The Box. On a whim, we go to Dave and Busters.

To get home, we take back roads that are surrounded by trees and fairly dark. But when we approach an intersection lit with street lights and with a bar on the corner, there is a man lying face down in the middle of the road. Another man walks over to him and puts his hand up to stop us. I know we are both thinking, “This is not good.”

Was it a hit and run? Bar fight? Drunk who took OxyContin before indulging in his vice?

He sighs deeply and stops the truck. He turns on his hazards and grabs his phone. He gets out of the truck and asks the guy who is standing if he knows the man in the street. He answers that he doesn't but with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, he proceeds to drag him from the street.

Once he is safely on the side of the road, I can see he is alert. Indubitably stands back a little so he can access the whole scenario. They call this tactical something or other. (My LEO friends can help me out with that.) The “good Samaritan” hands the bottle of OxyContin that has fallen from the guy's pocket to Indubitably and then leaves as the female bartender comes outside.

Indubitably calls 911 and gives his badge number. The bartender tells Indubitably that the guy lives right across the street if he wants to carry him over there.

He responds, “If I carry him anywhere, I'm arresting him. It's that simple.”

“Oh,” she replies.

He asks the drunk how many of the pills he has taken. Apparently it wasn't many. He then asks him how much he has had to drink tonight.

“A LOT,” he slurs.

Indubitably chuckles and says, “I do believe you are not lying about that one.”

What the drunk guy says next provides us some good laughter the whole way home. He tells Indubitably that he bets he can beat him in a foot race.

Dude, you were lying in the middle of the road and couldn't stand, let alone walk yourself to the side.

I'm thinking he should take that bet.

The officer arrives and knows Indubitably. I am relieved it isn't K-9, for we are in his jurisdiction. He laughs and tells Indubitably he can leave. This guy is one of their regular “local yokels.”

He gets in the truck and I tell him, “See what happens when you spend more than a couple hours with me?” Remembering the night at Buffett, I think I may bring out the “off duty incidents” for him.

It's so freaking hot when he pulls out his badge.

We had a tiff. And we survived. We talked and explained ourselves. Other factors increased the intensity of the disagreement and helped it develop into more than it should have. We both said we were sorry and kissed and made up.

It's kind of silly that I'm a little excited about getting past a first fight. However, I usually don't make it to a first fight.

His way of making up was to come take a truckload (literally) of my things to Goodwill. And then to give me grief that I wasn't taking enough for my tax deduction, that I was estimating on the low end.

After our Goodwill run (and I let him carry each and every bag), he came inside and we started the conversation that we both knew needed to be had.

“The next time you get pissed at me and aren't going to talk to me, could you at least text me and let me know?”

He laughed. “Sure.”

It feels good to know that I am important to someone. He said he had to get those things to Goodwill...my things. It was my responsibility, my chore to do. But he took it upon himself to make it his duty. He said it “bothered” him and he wanted to get it done.

Hopefully, our plans for a date on Friday will pan out.

While I like that fact that he lives in the same town as me, it has it's disadvantages too.

The other night, a girlfriend told me something that she had heard about him. It was upsetting to me. So much that I was physically shaking by the time I got home. I texted him that I needed to talk to him about something which left me very unhappy. But past experiences have taught me to only talk face to face.

He immediately called me. He was upset about it too but couldn't come over to talk because he needed to try to sleep. He would soon be going in for a twelve hour shift. He wanted to talk about it over the phone.

“No. Get some sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow.”

“But I don't want whatever it is to fester. And I'm not happy that you are not happy.”

“Look, I have always given you the benefit of the doubt. And I have always asked you about anything that I have heard. Haven't I? We'll talk tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly.

The next day, I realized he was right. It was festering in my mind. My run didn't help. At all. I texted him that I would do my best to keep cool but we needed to talk sooner rather than later. He was working a detail that he wouldn't be free from all day. I knew I had to be patient but my mind was reeling.

My one text read, “Just tell me this...do I matter to you?”

“Yes, you do,” he answered.

I went home from the gym and cried.

But then I began to rationalize. I didn't know anything about what kind of person the original source was. And it passed through another person. And there was something that just didn't sound right to me.

Then I thought about what I do know about him. This is the man who texts me to ask what the word was on my mom while she was in the hospital recently, asking questions about her condition, tests, etc. This is the man that I found in my dining room helping my son with his homework. This is the man who offered to take a ton of my things to Goodwill for me. This is the man who flushed my dead goldfish for me.

Almost everyone I know tells me what a great guy he is. They tell me he is such a good man. And that has been proven to me by the way he treats me and by his actions. Only three people have said anything negative. An ex girlfriend, an ex girlfriend's ex boyfriend, and an ex coworker.

All exes.

Finally, he finished work. He called me right away. I had a few minutes so I stepped outside of the salon and we talked about when we might be able to have a few minutes to get together and talk. It was then that I saw him in the traffic going past my work.

“Is that you driving by?” I asked.

“Yes, should I swing in?”

“Yes.”

He parked an got out of his truck. I walked over to him. His blue eyes showed concern as he looked at me. I told him what I heard.

Just as I thought. Half truths and details that were very askew. He told me what what parts were true and why the rest wasn't.

“That's it?” he asked. “That was easy. I didn't know what it could possibly be.”

“I was hoping that it would be this easy,” I told him. “I feel better,” I told him in an almost whisper as I looked up at him.

“I should hope so,” he told me as he pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his neck as he hugged me.

Our one mutual friend had told me to treat it all as gossip until I talked to him. I'm glad I listened to her. This all took me back to the beginning of my relationship with my ex husband. He was told something about me that was not quite true but sounded terrible. It almost ended things before they got started. But he asked me about it. Again, it was only half true and I was grateful that he had given me the benefit of the doubt enough to ask me about it before drawing a conclusion.

Ironing is a chore that I really hate. But when it is something that is really nice and I want to wear it, I don't mind doing it. I usually avoid even buying things that will require ironing. But once in a while, there is that one piece that you just know is perfect for you and you know that it is worth a little extra effort to have it. This is that one thing for which I will set up the ironing board and turn on the iron.

With steam.

My goldfish, Finn, died. He was no Fishy but he lasted a good two years.

I have scooped dead fish from the tank before but for whatever reason, I just couldn't do it this time. When he died, he was sort of bent in half at the bottom of the tank and you know he was going to be stiff like that if I scooped him out.

I told this to Indubitably through a text and he told me to look between my fingers. Ugh. I just couldn't. It gave me the heebie-jeebies. So for the time being, I just left him there.

The next night, he took a break from studying for his Lieutenant test and took me out for a couple of drinks. The plan was: 1) pick me up, 2) have a couple of drinks, 3) drop me back off, 4) do not come in for any chance of hanky panky and commence studying again.

I am supportive of his career moves and promised not to try to seduce him and hold him back from his studies in any way, shape, or form. And true to my word, I did not expect him to come inside. But he put his truck in park and said, “I'll come in and take care of your fish problem.”

He announced that he had to use the bathroom first but then thought about it and said, “Well, maybe I should take him with me.”

I told him I didn't need the details but it would be greatly appreciated. I handed him the fish net and he scooped the guy and took him upstairs. When he came back down, he said, “I even gave him the courtesy flush to ensure that he was down.”

“You're my hero!” I squealed as I threw my arms around him in a hug. “And it has nothing to do with you being a cop!”

He grinned, “Yes, I saved you from the dead fish.”

Indeed.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Indubitably brought his dog over to “meet” me. I like dogs. Rather, I like other people's dogs. I don't have the lifestyle or time for my own dog. That's why I prefer cats. They are generally self-sufficient. Throw some food in their bowls and scoop the litter and voila! You are off for the day! No walks. No waiting outside in the cold for a “number two” to be accomplished. No picking up a warm turd with a plastic bag. Now occasionally, I step in a slimy hairball with my bare feet but for the most part, cats are more my style.

When he said he was going to bring Sam over, I shut the cats in the basement and told him to come in through the front door. When they arrived, I was amazed that Sam didn't need to be on a leash. He followed every command. They came inside and I squealed at how cute he was wearing his Steelers jersey! The dog, not Indubitably...

He is such a good dog and he is very very sweet! He didn't bark unless he was asked to...and when Mr. Indubitably smacked my ass during a hug.

“Oh, I know. I know. You don't like smacking,” he said to Sam.

“Really, Sam, I don't mind,” I told him grinning at Indubitably.

I grabbed a bowl from my kitchen cupboard and filled it with water. I called Sam into the kitchen and showed him where it was. He took a couple of polite laps and went back to exploring my house. He stopped at the basement door and just looked at it.

“What's down there, Sam?” I asked. He looked at me and then back at the door.

“Are there kitties down there? The white one is really tasty,” I said in a singsong tone. For those of you who are unaware, I have two cats. A black one and a white one. The black one is very good and the white one is just plain old BAD.

All in all, I think the meeting of Sam went well. Even my son liked him. He is sometimes squeamish around dogs because they are just so all over you, unlike a cat.

Mr. Indubitably has said more than once that he is not much of a cat person.

“Especially problematic cats,” he said of the white one.

One day last week, he worked a double...3PM to 7AM. I decided to repay the favor of him bringing me coffee to my work twice now. I got up at 2AM and made him coffee. I told him to use the garage door code and I would meet him in the kitchen.

Yes, I have given him the garage door code.

When he came to claim his coffee, the poor black cat was so confused. He knows that when the coffee pot is on, it is time for breakfast. We both laughed at him because he was sitting by his food bowl just staring at us.

Mr. Indubitably took his taser and made a red laser dot on the floor. The black cat, surprisingly enough, was the one who took the bait. He was going apeshit trying to catch the thing. The white cat just gave us attitude and sat off to the side.

“See? Doesn't he just look guilty?” I said of the white one.

“Yeah, he does,” Indubitably agreed. “You need a good dog to chase you around,” he told him.

Hmm...does he have a particular dog in mind?

He only stayed for a few minutes and took his coffee to go. I went back to bed and thought about cats and dogs. I'm not a dog person but I really like his dog. He's very good and extremely sweet.

He's not a cat person but he was getting a kick out of my cat chasing the red dot and then of course jumping when he would hit the button and make the loud electric crackling noise. He also pets them when he sees them.

Can cats and dogs intermingle and live together?

I gave this some thought as I drifted back to sleep and I do believe they can.

Yesterday, in reference to the other night when Mr. Indubitably said he might get into a shootout with the armed robber who had been robbing pharmacies for their OxyContin, he sent this text...

Him: Had my shootout... Got two rounds off into suspect.

Me: Shut up! The OxyContin Bandit?

Him: He was hiding behind a house. Tried to jump me.

Me: Where???

Him: He had a mask on... Though he always wears a mask...

Me: You're okay though?

Him: Yes, I am fine. Sounded good though, eh?

Him: It was a rabid raccoon. :D

Him: Wasn't quite that dramatic...

At this point, I continued to text him and call him some very explicative names. He called and told me he had to put down a severely injured raccoon that had crawled into somebody's backyard.

I had to remind myself that his sense of humor is one of the things I adore about him...

“Is this your wife? Or girlfriend?” the photographer asked.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...what is he going to say?! For a split second, my heart stopped and my mind raced. I looked at him. He is always so cool and collected under pressure. He never overreacts to things.

But seriously, what would he tell the guy?

We went to a benefit concert at a night club on the South Side last night. It was to raise money for retired K-9s. While money is no object for their health care while they are working, K-9s lose those benefits upon retirement. So two really fabulous bands played for their cause.

We all met at my house. Mr. Indubitably could go for a while but had to be at work at 9:45. I rode with him and Noelle rode with Kelly, who followed us and would give us a ride back home.

On the way there, he kept checking his rear view mirror to make sure she was keeping up. I texted Noelle and told her to tell Kelly that he said to “drive it like she stole it.” I laughed at that.

Now, let me interject here how cute he looked. He wore khakis and a button down shirt that was my favorite shade of green. Damn! The man just keeps getting cuter!

On the ride there, he inquired the inevitable.

“How do you know Kelly? From work? Or what?”

I took a deep breath. “Alright. I have to confess it to you now. We met through our blogs.”

I waited for the usual inquisitions about blogging. I did not want him to read it. It's not the things that I write about him that I don't want him to know. It's all of the earlier subjects that I didn't want him to read. Early on in my blogging, I had some really dark moments. Therapy, good friends, and blogging got me through some really painful moments in my life. The latter giving me even more of the aforementioned.

“Blogs are too much work for me. I barely have time for Facebook.”

That's it? That was all he had to say on the subject? I was amazed. Stupefied. Relieved. He gave me more reason to feel good about what is happening between us. He did not seem to care one iota that I have a personal blog and that, oh God, what was I writing about him?! Other men have practically died to know. Others were paranoid about it. While others used it to their benefit to “know” me better instead of learning the old fashioned way.

So, that was that. He didn't mention it again. I continued on about my friendship with Kelly and how I much I love her. I tell everyone, “Wait until you meet Kelly. You'll love her.” And I am never wrong. They always do.

Once there, we admired the three K-9s that were being shown off. Mr. Indubitably walked away and came back with a t-shirt.

“Where's mine?” I asked.

“If you are a police officer, you get one,” he said with a grin. “Or if you make a donation. I figured I would pick one up to give to our K-9 guy.”

I made a mental note to make a donation and get one before the night was over.

A short while later, he walked away. I thought he may have recognized someone he knew and didn't think much of it. Before I knew it, he was handing me a t-shirt.

“Medium, right?”

“Yes,” I answered in surprise. “What did you do? Ask if police officers can have more than one t-shirt?”

“No, this time I made a donation.”

Did you all hear that? That was me falling a little more.

When he had to leave, he kissed me and said his goodbyes. He gave me his 50/50 tickets to hold for the drawing. I joked that if he won, I would have a new Coach purse. He told my girlfriends to remind me that I was holding his tickets during the drawing. (The winner donated the winnings back in honor of his dog who had passed.)

We danced to the band and I texted him on our way home. The girls left and I shut my garage door and went inside. He must have arrived minutes afterward. He sent a text...

“So you are home?”

“Yes. Just got here. Are you nearby?”

“Yes.”

“Come see me?”

“Outside...guess you missed the bat signal in the living room window.”

I headed back down to my garage. I had been oblivious. He had been shining the spot light in my window. (He is so freaking cute.) I grabbed myself a few extra kisses for the night before he had to go watch a pharmacy down the street. There have been a few armed robberies in the area where a guy produces a weapon and forces the pharmacist to hand over all of their OxyContin.

“Maybe I'll get in a shoot out.”

“Yeah...good luck with that,” I told him. I smiled and gave him another kiss.

“Sleep well,” he told me.

Oh right. You all have been waiting for his response to the photographer's question. He told the photographer that he had recently taken his picture while he was working at a local event and the photographer said he hadn't recognized him out of uniform. Then he asked that heart stopping question.

Mr. Indubitably and I had both said we liked what was happening with us but we had never defined things. In all reality, I KNOW it is going well between us. TR had called me the other day and after updating him about Indubitably, he said that our relationship/situation was just so normal. And he is right. There are no red flags. It is normal. And it is real. And it feels really really good.

He glanced at me too before he answered with a grin, “I think she almost qualifies as a girlfriend.”

"Almost," I agreed, laughing.

With that, the photographer took a step back and raised his camera. Without thinking, we stepped together like a couple and smiled for the camera.

So there you have it, folks. I'm an almost qualified girlfriend. (Do they have an option on Facebook for that?)

Does that bother me? No. It doesn't. This is real so I don't mind us taking our time with it and nurturing it into something spectacular. I've never had a man set this kind of pace before. Yes, it is slow but it is steady. And real. Bona fide, irrefutable, substantial, absolute, concrete...

Indubitable.

I like that you are a family man. You refer to your mom and dad as “Mom” and “Dad” regardless of who you are talking to. I always say “my mom” or “my dad.” I like that you do that. It's as if you want to share them with everybody. That shows that you are proud of what you come from. Knowing this about you, it makes sense that you want a family of your own. You want to carry on your heritage.

That's what I like about you.

I like that you have such a good memory. You said it usually pisses girls off because you remember exactly what they said and when they said it. Honey, you have no idea what a turn on that is for me! I spent seven years with a man who has Attention Deficit Disorder and I was responsible for not only remembering my own head but his too. I still have to manage him when it comes to things concerning our son and it is exhausting. So if you can remember your own goings on, then that is a huge load off of my back. It is also very flattering that you remember things about me. It makes me feel special and like I hold importance in your life. What girl wouldn't be ga ga over the fact that you remembered what they were wearing on a particular day, months ago? Or where their favorite wine is distributed? Or just a silly little story she once told you?

That's what I like about you.

I like that you possess a certain amount of intelligence. You are not a typical “yinzer” guy. You have quite an extensive vocabulary which not only shows depth to your mind but also captures my interest and attention. I am also amazed at your general knowledge overall. Who the hell actually knows why there is salt in the sea? I feel like I will increase my IQ just by knowing you.

That's what I like about you.

I like that we always seem to be on the same page. We think alike. We seem to approach right and wrong in the same manner. Because of this, I trust you. I've always been a person who has her own mindset. I've always done it my way because I knew it was right and I trusted it. I've never taken anyone else's suggestions until you came along. I find myself trying your suggestions. And I have realized I do this only because I know we think alike. You don't have to precede your ideas with “Hear me out...”

That's what I like about you.

I like how you are with my son. You have no fear of being around him. You take interest in him. You are patient with him. You answer his questions. You take time to explain things to him. You let him (God, help me if he breaks something!) play with the gadgets in the police car. You joke with him. But yet at the same time, you make him aware of your authority...and of mine. Only a couple of guys have ever expressed an interest in even meeting him. When they would, they would always joke with him and side with him against me. “Oh, come on, mom!” And they would encourage bad behavior just to get on his good side. But who do they ultimately want to impress? The kid or the mom? You side with me against him. You remind him that I am the boss and he has to listen to me. He is usually a good kid but it doesn't hurt for you to do that. You are the kind of man that I would want to be a parent with.

That's what I like about you.

I like your sense of humor. You make me laugh with your flirtations. In turn, I love your laugh. It is hearty and makes me smile from the inside out when I hear it, especially if I have caused it. Your smile is so wide and can light up a room, lifting spirits like no other. I think my favorite picture of us is the one at the Buffett concert in which we are both laughing and you have your face half buried in my hair. That picture says it all.

That's what I like about you.

I like that you live in the same community as me. I love it here and I know you do too. You see the same rewarding things about living in this place that I do. Not many police officers live in the same district where they work unless it is required of them. You are not required to and yet, you do. We have the same stomping ground. We both know a lot of people and have become fixtures among them. It is easier to see a future with you than it has been with other guys because at our age it is harder to uproot oneself. And most people are too set in their ways to change for someone else.

That's what I like about you.

I like that you have chosen a slower pace with the physical side of our relationship. You have made me feel like you want inside my head as much as you want inside my pants. I know that you want to be physical but it is obvious that this is more to you than just sex. It shows that you have self control and perhaps you are waiting for the absolute right moment to consummate what is growing between us. And in the intimacy department you are a take charge kind of guy. You make me well aware of who the man is in the relationship.

That's what I like about you.

I like the sound of your voice. It is deep, yet soft at the same time. On the phone, there is a soothing quality about it. It is hard to explain but a man's voice can make me feel either “eh” or “ooooh yeeeaah.” And yours is a definite “oh yeah.”

That's what I like about you.

I like that I find it easy to completely be myself around you. You would think we have been together for years with how relaxed I am with you. I find myself able to talk about difficult things with you without drowning in fear of it. I don't mind you seeing me without make up. I don't stress over having coffee breath if you want to kiss me. I don't feel the need to be on my best behavior and hide who I really am. I can curse in front of you and I know you won't think less of me. I can admit my faults to you without feeling ugly. I don't have to conform to your liking. I am just me.

That's what I like about you.

I like that you are very social. You are a lot like me and can talk to anybody. You aren't afraid of social situations and you really know how to have fun. I would have thought that you and my neighbors had known each other for years the way you just adapted to our group at Buffett. You just jumped right in with the conversation and joking. I'm excited to take you to my co-worker's wedding next month. I know I don't have to worry about entertaining you because you are confident enough to mingle with strangers. It's no wonder that you have been compared to Norm on Cheers. People know you and greet you wherever you go.

That's what I like about you.

I like your hands. There is a quiet strength about them. I feel it when you hold my hand. It's there when you pull me close. It's even there when you affectionately stroke my arm or my leg...or place it gently on my lower back. It's also there during our rather hot and heavy moments. When we cross a street, they convey a protective feel. One firm grasp and I'm stopped from stepping off of the curb too soon.

That's what I like about you.

I like your eyes. I had never noticed before what beautiful baby blues you have. Perhaps it is because you speak with your personality and not with your eyes. But the first time I got a good look at them, they took my breath away. And when I look in them now, I see them smiling. I see warmth. I see a good and caring person.

That's what I like about you.

I like that you have a strong work ethic. It can be frustrating at times because I can't see you whenever I want. But I am a person who strives for financial security and a lazy man wouldn't be able to provide that. Your work ethic adds to your character and your character is part of what attracts me to you. Though your work schedule can be trying at times, you are a person who understands “where there is a will, there is a way” and you find ways to devote time to me. That also shows that you have good time management skills.

That's what I like about you.

What I like most about you is that I know there is more to come. With each passing day, I know I will find another reason to hold onto you. With each passing day, you calm the fears I have inside of me and reassure me that you are indeed different than other men. What I like most is that I know I will have more to write and this post is going...

To be continued...

That's what I like about you.

The G-20 Summit is over. I cannot express the huge amount of relief I felt when Mr. Indubitably called last night and said, "I just got home." It felt like days passed in between his phone calls and when they came, the sound of his voice was the sweetest sound in the world.

I hadn't slept in two days. I couldn't stop worrying about him and subsequently tossed and turned both nights. Yesterday, he texted me around three-thirty and said it was a zoo downtown. He worked sixteen hours yesterday babysitting those tree hugging hippie freaks.

I hope he got lots of sleep last night because we have a real date tonight and I plan to kiss his face off!

(FYI...BIG post coming soon!)

To all the protesters at the G-20 Summit, here is a novel idea...

TAKE A SHOWER AND GO GET A JOB!!!

I'm sorry but these people are freaking idiots. Who the hell is listening to them? Do the world leaders say, "Oh...hold that thought. Let's go outside and listen to what those morons who are dangling from the West End Bridge have to say"?

I say cut their repelling cords and let them float down river. They already smell like the river anyway but the water may do them some good.

And how about this? The county jail released about 300 inmates who were in jail for probation violations to make room for the expected arrests of protesters. Hmm...methinks there is a conspiracy theory here. Cousin Joe is released from jail so that Cousin Greenpeace Dickhead can have his cell. Let's just throw them in the river too.

I hope Mr. Indubitably is okay and only encounters peaceful protesting. But I will admit I probably won't cringe if he tells me stories of having to use his baton once or twice.

I have no patience for these people. They are not accomplishing anything. Nobody is listening to them. No one gives a flying flip what they are saying. Go volunteer. Go to school and get into politics. Hell, you could even start a blog!

Click here for a slideshow by the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review.

"Mama, you know that window that has the cobwebs outside of it?"

"Yes?"

"There is a spider in it!"

"How big is it?"

"It's like a grown up tarantula...or a daddy long leg."

Agreed, buddy. To me also, they are one and the same.

I am not quite sure why I didn't think he would have any part of it but Mr. Indubitably is one of the three guys our local police department is sending to the G-20 Summit. I knew we went from having twelve to only three guys going but for some reason, I didn't think he was one of them. How did I miss that???

I had my first pang of nervousness in all of my dating policemen history. But I guess it is much more likely that protesters would be hurt than the police would. I knew City Cop was training for it and I knew Indubitably had training the other day, something involving riots. (Duh!) I guess I have been so wrapped up in my little world with the beginning of school, CCD, Cub Scouts, and soccer...not to mention anxiety over having a tooth pulled...that I somehow missed that HE WAS TRAINING FOR G-20.

I texted City Cop and told him Mr. Indubitably was going to be there. (City Cop and I have agreed that we both value our friendship and are remaining friends.) I asked him if his girlfriend is nervous. She isn't used to dating a police officer and has a hard time knowing what he does for a living. I told him that the next time I saw her, I would talk to her. He said she is going into hiding and not going to watch the news for those three days. I told him to tell her she can come drink heavily with me while he and Indubitably dodge poop.

I guess I am just a little nervous because this is the guy who (knowing that not only did I have a tooth yanked and can't eat what I want, but was also granted a visit from Aunt Flo) just asked me what flavor Frosty I wanted if he had a chance to bring me one. (Chocolate, of course!) This is a guy I am caring more and more about every day. And who, likewise, seems to care about me. This is a guy that makes me sleep easier at night when I know he is out there to keep us safe. So in a way, I am proud to say he will be involved with keeping the peace during the Summit, protecting our city.

If everyone could just keep him and all of our law enforcement in their prayers, it would mean a lot to me. And that would also help me rest easier at night.

Since having our little talk, Mr. Indubitably has made it a point to be attentive. He stopped by to say hello while out patrolling. And another day when he was much too busy to “talk” much, he made sure to text on his way home just to let me know he would talk to me the next day. I'm obviously a bit of a priority in his life because he is doing what I have asked of him.

Today he is leaving to go visit family for a few days. Aunts, uncles, etc. He grew up in an area about five hours away. Knowing he was going to be gone for a couple of days, I asked if he could stop by last night after his shift for a kiss. He texted when he was leaving work and I got out of bed and freshened up in the few minutes I knew I had before he would arrive.

I don't know what it was. Perhaps it was the tight fitting black undershirt and black uniform pants. Perhaps it was just him. Or perhaps it was just my needing to see him in a bad way. But I have to say he was looking pretty hot.

He stayed for an hour and among a few soft tender kisses, there was a lot of couple-like chit chat. I laughed because he said his evening consisted of a theft, a loose dog, and a bunch of other “stupid calls.” I could just see him trying to catch the dog. He talked about what he planned to do while visiting his family. I told him of my ever growing To Do list for today. I told him about having my final two wisdom teeth pulled this Thursday. (Yikes!) And I mentioned that he should attend our block party this Sunday.

I had also asked him if he would be able to attend a wedding with me next month. He asked me to find out what time it was because he would be back on midnights. So when I gave him the details, he said he would probably be able to go but he just didn't know how long he could stay. I told him that was fine. The wedding and reception were both close by and I figure I can get a ride home with my friends if he had to leave earlier than I wanted.

As he was leaving, I told him he looked very “yum.” He laughed and said, “You don't look so bad yourself...in your pj's.” That's when I pointed out that I think he has seen me in my pajamas more than in regular clothes.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No,” I answered.

And there isn't. In fact, it embodies how much I feel like I can truly be myself with him. I voice things to him without fear. I show him who I really am without fear. And without fear, I am allowing him to stand before that wall around my heart and remove one brick at a time. He isn't rushing at it and attempting to knock it all down at once. He is doing it with care, slowly and steadily.

I feel like Little Red Riding Hood because I finally found my “just right.”

Correction: God, you must all think I am a moron! I do believe I meant Goldilocks, not Little Red Riding Hood. My head is in the clouds but I think it's understandable these days, right? :)

I finished getting ready and walked downstairs. I heard keys jingling. He was here.

I entered the living room and he was sitting on my couch. This was it. Deep breath. You need to know one way or another.

“Hi,” I said.

I went over and sat next to him. My heart was pounding and I could see anticipation in his eyes. He was waiting for me to begin. A minute of small talk ensued before I mustered the courage and drew in enough oxygen to keep from passing out.

“So...” I hesitated. “Are you losing interest?”

“No, why?” he asked calmly.

“Well, when I don't hear from you for two days and you don't answer my texts, it makes me feel slighted and shrugged off.”

His face relaxed. “I'm sorry,” he relinquished. He then told me in detail of his whereabouts and goings on. In turn, I explained to him why it set me off into panic mode. I told him that I generally receive the brush off. I told him of the six weeks theory. I told him about the dream I had the night we reached six weeks. He pretended to be counting in his head and I knew that he was aware of how long this has been developing.

“There is no need to panic,” he reassured me.

“I really like what is happening here,” I confessed.

“So do I.”

“And I don't want it to stop,” I added.

We were both quiet for a moment, just looking one another in the eyes. And then we kissed. It was sweet and tender and reassuring. He stroked my arm. I touched his face.

Then he opened up and began talking about some things he has been dealing with that have caused him a little stress. Things with his house keep moving to the back burner because of work. From what he described, I realized why I hadn't been invited to come to his house.

And then he told me he was informed that his ex-girlfriend was contacting his neighbors, trying to conjure up information on where he has been and what he was doing. I had planned to ask what had gone awry in their relationship but once he started talking, the story spilled. I knew by the tone in which he spoke that I had nothing to worry about concerning her.

It almost feels surreal. I really like somebody and he likes me. Despite my nerves, I was able to explain how I felt without fear of repercussions. He pays attention to me. He remembers details of things I tell him. He asks questions. He always seems interested.

Although we now have a friendly working relationship, what a far cry he is from my ex-husband. For those aforementioned are the things I was missing in my marriage. I have been surprised by what he remembers on more than one occasion. He remembered where the distributor for my wine was located. He remembered several random stories I had told him. And he remembered exactly what I had worn the one time I had cut his hair back in January.

I almost cannot believe this is really happening. I never saw it coming. He has completely swept me off my feet.

And I don't care to ever get up.

“Mr. Indubitably is coming to have dinner with us.”

“Yay! I like Mr. Indubitably!”

My son's reaction invoked a mixture of surprise and happy contentment within me. I was surprised at the excitement in his voice and also pleased that he enjoyed Mr. Indubitably's company.

He arrived on his Harley. The table was set and I had everything ready. I made London Broil, buttered potatoes with parsley, and green and yellow beans in a cream sauce. It was by no means a healthy dish but one of good “meat and potatoes” heartiness of which I hoped would win the man over. My son had voiced the state of his hunger and so I had prepared his plate minutes before Mr. Indubitably arrived.

When my son realized that he had the Harley, he ran outside with his last bite still in his mouth to greet him. After a few minutes and annoyed at my own stomach voicing its hunger, I peeked out the window. I saw Indubitably unpacking the bottle of wine he brought with him. I stood watching this feeling as if I were in the middle of a dream. What man has made this kind of gesture for me before? I'm not talking about the wine. I'm talking about the entire evening. Led by my son, he came inside.

During dinner, I sat back and took in the interaction between my son and him. They seemed to connect intellectually with an undertone of humor...both being typical Libras.

“We don't use fancy napkins in our house,” I explained of the paper towels.

My son mistook fancy for dancing and proceeded to make his napkin “dance.”

“I said fancy not dancing.”

Mr. Indubitably laughed, “No, I like the dancing napkin idea better.”

“Did you catch any criminals today?” my son asked.

“If by criminals, you mean the ones who drive poorly, then yes.”

“Like...did anybody rob a bank?”

“It's Sunday. The banks are closed.”

“But they could still be robbed, right?” I interjected.

“No...but they could be burgled,” he corrected me.

My son didn't skip a beat. “Did you catch any burglars today?”

“No, not today. Thank goodness.”

Then we were discussing the food. My son asked me if I put sea salt in the potatoes, which I had.

“Why do they call it sea salt?”

“Because it is salt that comes from the sea,” I answered.

“How does the salt get in the sea? Where did it come from? Does it come from the fish?”

I was about to give my patented “I don't know” answer when Mr. Indubitably began giving a kid friendly scientific answer explaining how the salt is formed in the sea. I just stared at him in wide wonder. How in the hell did he know that?

I smiled at him. “I'm just going to pass off all future questions right to you.”

Toward the end of dinner, we drank our wine and had some conversation between the two of us. He told me that he looked for my favorite wine while he was in California but couldn't find it. I was surprised that he remembered where the distributor for it was located and he asked to see the bottle again. I love that he retains little details about me.

“What is this little green leaf in my beans?” We were interrupted by my son.

“It's just a parsley leaf from the potatoes.”

Then questioning ensued about why we were eating plants. Mr. Indubitably explained that all vegetables were plants. I loved how he showed such patience with my son. The man was earning many points.

I told my son he was going to bed right at nine o'clock because it was a school night and Mr. Indubitably and I were going to watch some grown up TV.

“What time is it?” I asked Mr. Indubitably.

“Nine o'clock,” he said with a grin two seconds before actually glancing at his watch. My son caught the grin.

“No, it isn't.” He got up from the table and ran into the living room. “The cable box says that it is only eight-thirty and the cable box has the right time!”

Mr. Indubitably looked at his phone. “Verizon says that it is eight-thirty-two. But this,” he said while pointing to his watch, “is the official police time and it says that it is almost nine o'clock.” I laughed at that and my son took the teasing all in stride.

Finally, it really was his bedtime and while Mr. Indubitably played with the magnetic poetry on my fridge, I put my son to bed.

My fridge displayed the message, “Mama says every time you imagine a purple pig, you are gonna need to stop sniffing glue.”

Honestly, I must need to stop sniffing glue because it has been nearly eleven weeks, almost double the average duration of my relationships. Surely, I must be mistaken?

“We could have been doing this months ago. But no, you had to be stubborn.”

He said this as we were in the middle of a...ahem...moment.

Part of me wants to kick myself for not seeing sooner what I could have with him. But then the other part of me realizes that everything does happen for a reason and timing really is everything.

His interest in me began over a year and a half ago. It began the night that I first met him, when I finally found Officer Tallandhot. He was the one who actually helped me figure out that it was Tallandhot that I had been looking for.

Setting aside the fact that I had a huge crush on Tallandhot, if I had tried to have a relationship with Mr. Indubitably back then, it surely would have failed. I was going through an extremely rough time in my life and I had to devote so much of myself and my energy toward managing the stress and turmoil that had infiltrated it. Devoting all of that energy was vital for my mere survival. I thought that I wanted someone in my life to have a relationship with but looking back at it now, I realize that I actually wanted a crutch. I wanted someone to lean on so I didn't have to endure the pain and suffering alone.

However, I see now how important it was for my growth as a stronger person that I do that alone. And beginning a relationship with someone just to have a crutch would not have given me that sturdy, solid foundation needed for something lasting.

Today, I have that energy back. I am no longer in survival mode and I have survived. I feel like I am a whole person again.

Today, I want a relationship with someone for a different reason...the right reason. Because I have so much of myself to give to someone. To share with someone. Back then, I only had a small part of myself to give. Today, I have much more. I have “me” back. I am able to devote my time and energy into something or someone that can fulfill me. Into something more rewarding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During the very long ten days that Mr. Indubitably was in California, it felt as if our budding relationship was suffering from a dalliance in the progression department. Everything was put on hold. We had a few texts here and there but by the end of his trip, I could feel that familiar panic begin to erupt in my chest.

I started having doubts about whether he was still interested or not. I had to take a lot of deep breaths and remind myself to think of whatever our last communication had been. It was always good. Still, I also know that even if everything seems to be going well, there is no guarantee that it won't end suddenly.

On the night that I knew he would arrive home, I waited. I waited for a text or phone call.

Finally, at 11:00 PM, I texted him, “Home safe?”

He answered back that he was home on his couch feeling exhausted. I have to admit I was a bit pissed at that. But then again, I'm sure he didn't feel the need to have to check in with me. I just answered back, “Okay...good,” and figured that would be that. I geared myself up for going to bed angry.

He then sent another text. “How are you? How was the first day?”

He was referring to my son's first day of school. Alright, that was sweet and it showed that he cared. But how was I??? I missed the hell out of him! That's how I was.

The next day he started the daylight shift. They were “hoppin'” as he put it. I felt frustration looming. He's home and I haven't seen or even talked to him yet! By evening, I began to fear the worst. It was coming. I knew it. How many times have I gone through this? I couldn't stop the tears as I got ready for bed.

Over the sound of the water running in the sink while I washed my face, I thought I could hear my cats fighting. The one cat will often attack the other for no reason other than just to be a dickhead. The cat that is being attacked will let out a scream of sorts and that is what I thought I kept hearing.

I turned the water off and realized it wasn't my cat screaming but Marvin Gaye screaming from my bedroom. “Let's Get It On” was blaring from my phone. He was calling me. Finally.

I decided to be not so available and finished my bedtime routine. I went and listened to his voicemail. He was just letting me know that he called. After a few minutes, I called him back and got his voicemail. The game of tag was on.

Marvin startled me out of a deep sleep shortly after midnight. It was more than a relief to hear Mr. Indubitably's voice. He told me about his trip and I told him about my week. It was a typical “feel good” conversation between us.

His being away made me realize just how much I like him and enjoy him in my world. He always feels like “back up” whenever I talk about my views on certain issues because his next statement will always reinforce what I just said. And conversation always takes on a lighter note too. We find it easy to joke with one another.

So all in all, things are still good. My moment of panic has passed.

A typical dating scenario would include...

He calls you. You talk for a while. He asks you for a date. You shop for something new to wear. He picks you up. You go for dinner, drinks, etc. He brings you home, gives you a goodnight kiss and asks if you would like to do this again sometime. You say, “Sure!”

And then you wait for a week for him to call you again. Perhaps you do it again. Or perhaps he fades away into the sunset. Whatever the case may be, you don't really feel connected because there isn't much communication between you. He may have taken you to dinner a few times, spent a little money on you. But really, what else is there? How much effort has he put forth?

I know that everyone has a different situation but that is what I have typically found to be true in my world. I sometimes make it a few weeks with a guy but in between those occurrences, that scenario is what I experience.

Then there is Mr. Indubitably.

When I take all of the little things he does and add them up, I find there is more effort put into building something with me than one dinner date is worth. I'll find a text waiting for me if I wake up in the middle of the night. He knows that I wake early and will call me on his way home after his shift. He brought me coffee at work one day. He stopped me in the middle of my run one morning. But mainly, I like the fact that he has a phone and he utilizes it. He has proven that he wants inside my head as much as he wants inside my pants.

We've had a few “couch dates” because of his work schedule and my custody schedule, and then of course, we finally did have a real date when he took me to the Steelers game. Truthfully, he was teetering on going to the game because he had a lot of things to do to prepare for his trip to California for the FOP convention. I had resigned to the fact that we weren't going and made plans to order pizza and watch it with my son. But then he opted to go and spend the time with me anyway. My ex was understanding and kept my son that night.

Here is a perfect example of his small efforts. He ran to Walmart Saturday morning to pick up some last minute things he needed for his trip and he called just to say hello on his way back...at 7:20 in the morning.

However, all of this doesn't exist without a fair amount of frustration. I think about him and want to see him so when I can't, it frustrates me. But I'm usually pacified with a phone call from him. I have also found advice, support and encouragement from blogs written by police wives. While I am not married to him, we are laying the foundation for something more. Their words have given me the insight needed to have the understanding and patience needed for a relationship with a Five-0.

There is also emphasis on knowing how to be independent. Well, who knows better how to do that than a single mother? Perhaps, my independence is part of his attraction to me? LAPD Wife talked about how she always has two plans of action, one with her husband and one without, because she knows that his job could whisk him away from their plans at any given moment. Copswife also talks about how she had to learn independence and find stolen moments to keep their relationship fresh. I particularly like how she called herself “his invisible silent backup” because she does what is necessary to enable him to patrol the streets as he does.

In any event, I am already aware of the challenges that couple with a relationship with a law enforcement officer and who doesn't enjoy a good challenge? We all knew it was inevitable that I would end up with a cop and even though it is still in the beginning stages and things haven't been stated “official,” it is looking good and feeling right. I try not to romanticize about our future and having that white picket fence but I see nothing wrong with preparing for challenges that lie ahead. That way, as I adhere to the motto “one day at a time,” I tackle the challenge of each day with brilliance.

From what I know so far, I think it would be worth the hassle of maneuvering around his job because our wants in life, intellects, senses of humor, and sexual needs all seem to align. We have passed several preliminary tests and things are moving at a very nice and steady pace in what looks to be the right direction.

And I can't wait for him to return from his trip so we can get back to it!

He peeked his head in my basement door. He already knows the drill. I only enter and exit my house through my garage.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. I just have to feed my cat.”

I grabbed my bag and went outside to his truck. I hopped in. He had the AC blasting which felt good because it was pretty warm outside.

We headed downtown. He made me so nervous with how he would squeeze his truck through the tightest places. But he's a cop. He drives that way for a living. Knowing that didn't stop my stomach from doing the occasional flip flop.

We were on a real date.

I knew it would come. I could feel it. But I had to practice a lot of patience. And it certainly paid off for he took me to the first pre-season Steelers game.

Throughout the night our conversation varied from deep to lighthearted, flirting to downright dirty. He is such the perfect blend of sweet and salty...just like a Reese's Cup.

When we entered Heinz Field, food was our first thought. Traffic had been a nightmare and took us an hour to get there and park. As we walked to the concessions, I pointed out that they had all six Lombardi Trophies on display. We both took pictures of them. And then he told me he wanted a picture of my ass.

Sure. Why not?

I stopped walking and he took it. He showed me. Now just what was he going to do with that? When I later asked him, he said it was to prove to his buddy that he had actually gone to the game.

Mmm hmm.

When I asked how exactly a picture of my ass was supposed to prove that, he answered honestly, “I'm really not quite sure how it would.”

I figured I'd just leave that one well enough alone.

At our seats, he told me stories of all of the “regulars” that sat around us. It was pretty low key since it was just an exhibition but we were both definitely interested in how the Steelers looked. And since it was low key, it allowed us to talk more. He asked about my marriage. And was my ex running around with his second wife. I told him he had.

“Why? Did you stop giving up the cookie?”

“Yes. I did,” I answered very matter of fact. But then I proceeded to explain how I felt he never tried to do anything to make me want to give it up. I would come home from work to a messy house while he played computer games for hours. I'd still have to cook dinner and it wasn't until dinner was ready that he would get off the computer. His idea of foreplay was asking me if I wanted him to poke me.

Well no, sir. I don't believe I do.

“You know, every once in while, it would have been nice to come home and have dinner waiting.”

He nodded, “Or at least he could have had something ordered in.”

I like the way this man's mind works. There are so many times that we hit serious topics and he says something in response that I completely agree with or was about to say myself. I also like that he is unafraid to approach certain subjects. I find it so easy to talk to him, to tell him what I think.

He is easy to be with and I am completely comfortable being myself around him. I even think he has seen me in my pajamas wearing no makeup more than he has seen me dressed up. That is mainly because, even though his work schedule is ridiculously demanding, he finds moments to see me, talk to me, and get to know me better. Right now, some of those times are in the early morning when he finishes his shift.

We left in the third quarter so we could make it back for him to go to work. At my house, we watched the end of the game. I cuddled up next to him and he stroked my arm.

Very sweet.

The next thing I know, we are on my living room floor making out.

Very salty.

He committed to memory the name of my favorite wine so he could look for it when he goes to LA tomorrow for the FOP convention. (Pennsylvania has crazy liquor control and I can't get it shipped here.)

Very sweet.

He asked if I was on the pill.

Very salty.

Did I mention that Reese's Cups are my favorite kind of candy?

Shortly after I arrived home Tuesday night from work, I heard the news of the senseless act that killed three women at the nearby LA Fitness. I checked the time. Mr. Indubitably had court that morning and would be starting the midnight shift in a few hours. I figured he would be sleeping but, in light of what was happening in the neighboring community, I knew he would most likely be called in to work early.

I was right. He had been sleeping. I texted him and asked if he had to head into work. He answered me but had no idea about what was happening. I texted him the details that the news was announcing and he answered back, “Work just called. Have to head in.”

I told him to be safe and text me when he could. I then began wracking my brain to think of all the people I knew that worked out there.

And I know a lot.

One by one, word came back that friends and clients were okay. One of the girls at work found out that a friend of hers had been shot in the leg but was alive. Now we keep hearing stories like “I was going to go but decided to do this or that instead.”

Tuesday also marked six weeks since the Jimmy Buffett concert. Six weeks seems to be the magic number for me. Guys interested in me do not make it past six weeks. I don't know why. They just don't. I had that in the back of my mind the entire day and knew the upcoming week would be crucial for Indubitably and me.

I stayed up until close to midnight watching the news. A high school friend who lives in Florida called me and said he was glad to hear my voice. He knows I work out at a gym and realized when he heard the news that LA Fitness was in close proximity to me. I don't go there but, in theory, I could. It was nice to know that someone was concerned for my safety as well.

I went to bed and amidst all of the drama, I fell fast asleep.

Then I had a dream. I dreamed that Indubitably gave me the “speech.” It was so vivid and so real that even for a few minutes after waking, my heart was pounding. I felt saddened and disappointed and somewhat defeated. Slowly, I began to realize it was only a dream.

I picked up my phone and texted him.

“Just woke up from a bad dream. Thought I'd check...you doing okay?”

He answered back that he was. I asked him where they sent him when he was called in earlier and he said just to cover the road. I'm not sure if he meant at the crime scene or locally. A lot of our guys had responded to the crime scene, as well as several other neighboring communities.
Soon his shift was over and he called.

“Tell me about your dream,” he said.

I told him I would but I didn't want to talk about it just yet. I was just happy to hear his voice and know that he seemed to still be interested and that he had a safe night. We talked about the shooting instead, relaying information to one another.

The next night, I met Bex at the Saloon. It was a short girls' night for us and I was soon home and in bed asleep. I woke up and realized I missed a couple of texts from Indubitably. I told him to stop by and I'd give him the t shirt that I bought for him at Training Camp.

He did and we chatted for a few minutes. The poor guy was tired and made me laugh when he took his police hat and placed it over his face to look like he was sleeping for a second. He had worked 9 PM to 7AM the night before only to return to work a detail from 9AM to 3PM. He said he went home and slept soundly.

No, really?

We talked for a little bit and he asked if Big Ben asked me out. I told him that sadly, no, he did not. I told him about our day at Training Camp and he seemed to be interested in what all we had done. He laughed at some of the things my son had done. I like that he seemed amused by him. It makes him even more attractive to me.

He told me of the goings on that night. Our municipality was pretty quiet but another couple nearby communities had an auto thief and a woman who was stabbing herself with a steak knife. Nice. He said he thought he would take a drive over to the hospital to see about the woman and if they needed help. He wanted to get out and walk around to wake up a little.

He pulled me in through his car window and gave me a couple of quick sweet kisses. I grabbed him and pulled him back toward me and gave him a big loud smack on the lips.

“THAT will wake you up. I'm going back to bed. I'll think about you,” I teased.

“Think about me while you sleep naked?”

“Yep...while I sleep naked.” I had told him that every shirt I wore that day had a tag somewhere that was making me itch. Not to mention, that my first client was Asian. His hair added to the itch factor. So by the time I got home, I didn't want any clothes on. Just to clarify, I DID put on a night shirt to go outside to see him.

“That's not fair,” he complained.

“It's not fair?”

“No, it's not fair.”

I smiled at him, touched his arm and told him good night.

I think he still likes me...six weeks and counting.

Mr. Indubitably and I shared a bottle of wine Sunday night. He had family in town and couldn't hang out until later. Since I had my son that night, it was fine.

Again, it was a night that left me feeling closer with him. I feel like I can absolutely and utterly be myself around him. I don't have to put on any airs or mask anything about me. So we poured the wine and sat on the couch. He rested his hand on the inside of my lower thigh, just above my knee. I just snuggled up close to him.

I had been watching the last ten minutes of a Seinfeld episode when he arrived. When it was over, I began searching for something else to watch. He asked for the remote and took control.

“THAT didn't take long,” I mused.

“You're lucky I didn't take it sooner.”

I am a person who likes to feel in control. But with Indubitably, I am completely happy to give up control to him. Perhaps it is trust. Perhaps I feel that we are on the same page. Perhaps it is a little bit of both.

I also find myself willing and trusting of him to listen to his suggestions. He gave me a “shortcut” to I-79 that I would have shrugged off if it had come from someone else but I tried it and it wasn't bad. I also took his suggestion on where to have my birthday celebration since the weather wasn't appearing too promising. It turned out to be the exact kind of atmosphere that I wanted.

“I'm a problem solver. That's what I do,” he had told me.

So we sat and watched TV. He introduced me to “Robot Chicken.” I had never seen it. I like how new relationships introduce new things.

We talked about how I was taking my son to Steelers Training Camp the next day. I had invited him to go but he had court the next morning. I told him, “Just so you know, if Ben asks me out tomorrow, I'm going.”

“Oh, of course,” he responded without blinking an eye.

Aside from everything being such a surprise to me, I find it all so easy too. Instead of trying to analyze things, I just ask him. He always takes it in stride and answers me honestly. I think he appreciates my bluntness and unwillingness to play games. Maybe it is easier because we've known each other and sort of had a friendship prior to all of this.

When Robot Chicken was over, things turned a little steamy.

“Is that your gun?” I asked of the hard thing at his waist.

“Yes,” he answered.

“You have all kinds of hard things on you,” I teased.

I like that he makes it very well known that he wants me but he is taking his time at claiming what I know he can have. We know quite a bit about each other physically, except for that. And I don't mind waiting. I think it will be worth it.

As things cooled down, he kissed my face...my nose, my forehead. All I could think was, “Oh, my God.”

The next day I had the most amazing run although I had only five hours of sleep. Maybe I was still numb from the vino and still high from his touch.

I took my son to the Steelers Training Camp. It was a beautiful, sunny, hot day. The Steelers filed out of the locker room and my son stood down next to the fence. Ben gave him a high five as he walked by but made no move to ask me out. He must know he wouldn't be able to kiss me the way Mr. Indubitably does and wouldn't be able to weaken my knees the same way.

So I am sorry, Ben. But once again, I don't think I can date you.

I often wonder why it was so much easier when we were younger. It was easier to meet guys and carry on relationships. Granted we have more baggage as we age. We don't have a high tolerance for bullshit and we get stuck in our ways. But here is another thought...

Today, there is so much pressure to date. Did he ask you out? Are you going to have a date? He needs to ask you out. You get my point.

Then there is the pressure of the actual date itself. What do you wear? Did you wax? Where will you go?

While I love going on dates, I have come to realize something. They just may be the culprit of why I cannot sustain a relationship. A couple of noteworthy men have stuck around for five or six weeks but then they disappear. Why?

The other day, it occurred to me.

I didn't actually date in my twenties. Let me explain further.

Mr. Indubitably texted me Monday morning asking if it was tennis time. I love that he pays attention to what I tell him. My son has tennis lessons every Monday morning. So while I watched him take his lesson, I carried on a text conversation with Indubitably.

He was just coming off of the midnight shift and was going to get some sleep. Then he was heading to Virginia to his parents' house for a few days. This bummed me out because I wouldn't get to see him until the weekend. So I told him if he wanted a farewell kiss...

Later that afternoon, he called. He and his dog were packed, in the car and already heading south. The first thing he said was that he was sorry he couldn't fulfill that kiss. He got himself delayed because he didn't think it would take him as long as it did to pack. Typical man. Women would have the car packed and ready to go the night before.

“That's okay...you'll pay for it.”

“Indubitably,” he answered. God! His verbiage turns me on!

We talked for a while, catching up. He told me what his plans were for his visit and asked what I had planned for the week. Then he went through a drive through to grab lunch for him and his dog. (Gads! He feeds his dog that crap too!) Then he asked if he could call me back so they could eat before it got cold. I told him, “Sure.”

A few hours later, he did call. He had about an hour left to his drive. And we talked for an hour. It was a great conversation. The kind of conversation you would expect on a date. The “getting to know you” kind of conversation. The same kind of conversation I used to have with him before I had any idea that he was interested in me.

We talked about our families and things we like to do. Things we would someday like to do for ourselves, places we'd like to go. It was just the kind of conversation that left you feeling really good.

That is when it hit me.

Back in our twenties, we didn't date. I think my ex husband and I went on a total of two dates. We spent our time talking on the phone. It was during those long phone calls that we got to know one another. “Dates” consisted more of hanging out at one another's apartments or “meeting up” somewhere. We didn't date.

And there was a lot less pressure. Things were a lot more carefree and easy going which is probably how I was able to slip into relationships.

And as another example to prove my theory, there was Ryan. When I first decided to start dating after my ex left, I met Ryan. I am so proud of my little four month relationship with him. But how is it that I was able to keep him around for four months but these other guys only last for one month.

It's because we didn't really date!

We hung out. We talked on the phone. Yes, we did have a few dates but then it was much like how it had been in my twenties.

So here is the thing. I'm not going to stress over whether or not Mr. Indubitably takes me on a date. He likes me. He's interested in me. And I like him. His schedule is crazy and he finds moments to see me. For instance, he came by to see me early this morning while I had a bout of insomnia. And after talking to him for hours on Monday, I know that he wants to know me better. The conversation we had on the phone was better than some that I've had on official dates. So I believe he will eventually make a date happen. For now, I am satisfied knowing that we like each other.

And yes, as much as it frightens me to admit it, I really do like him.

She told him she may need a ride. She had a bit too much to drink. Perhaps the bartender overcompensated for not making the drinks strong enough the last time she and her girlfriend were there? He said he was in a meeting with his Lieutenant and would be there in five minutes. Next came the text, “ETA in 90 seconds.”

“I've gotta go!” she told her girlfriend. She waved and went to the door. Just then she saw his truck pull up out front. She crossed the street and hopped in. She asked him what time they would ticket her car in the morning. Her plan was to walk there and get it before then.

She smiled at him and thanked him for picking her up. She knew he had been sick and probably wanted to just go home. She told him about their evening as he drove. They were at her house in a matter of minutes.

Parked by her garage, he leaned over and kissed her. As it began to rain harder, their kiss grew more passionate. His hands were in her hair and soon all over her body. This time she also let her hands wander. A car drove by as she kissed his neck. He looked up and added with a grin, “Just making sure it isn't the police.”

“Don't worry,” she told him. “I'll get us out of it.”

He laughed at that and kissed her harder. With that, the rain fell harder still. He turned the ignition off. Mother nature seemed to be completely in sync with what was happening in that car. Lightning flashed and thunder roared and it seemed his body did the same.

When things finally cooled down, he commented that the storm “added a certain ambiance” to the moment. She smiled at him and then asked him a question that she has wondered for weeks.

“What do you really think about me? Be honest.”

He looked at her softly and intently and seemed to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

“I've always been interested in you. You were either not interested or didn't see it. I don't know.”

Her girlfriend had been right. She had told her that a few weeks before. What she thought was him just trying to be a funny guy was actually his way of showing his interest. She just hadn't seen it.

“I liked you from the minute I met you,” she told him. “Believe it or not. I just didn't think you would take me seriously after the whole looking for Tallandhot thing.”

They kissed some more and she discovered his “secret spot.” It made her giggle to watch him shiver. She told him it was not going to be fun to get her car in the morning. Especially if the rain continued.

“It's supposed to. Do you want to get it now?”

“Do you think I can drive?” she questioned.

“You seem pretty nimble to me,” he grinned back at her.

So he drove her back to her car and told her to call him as soon as she got home so he knew she was safe. She did as she was instructed and fell asleep with her eyes finally opened, so to speak.

The next day she knew he was working two shifts, a detail in the morning and patrolling at midnight. After his detail, he texted her, “Getting ready for bed. I loved the storm. :)”

She realized that all that time leading up to this must have been the quiet before the storm. She loved the storm too.

Dear Mr. Indubitably,

I liked you from the minute I met you. I asked you if you were left or right handed because I was working on my process of elimination in searching for Tallandhot, whom I knew to be a lefty. You answered that you were not left handed...but you could practice.

You proved to be a friend over the next few years. Not quite a good friend but not quite just an acquaintance either. We had a few deep and interesting conversations that showed me your personality beyond your somewhat flirtatious and witty humor. I distinctly remember one conversation we had while I waited in the station parking lot for my then unfortunate custody exchanges.

We discussed the difficulties of dating, particularly on your end. You and your girlfriend at the time were having some problems that left you feeling discontent with your relationship. I knew you to always be faithful and I found you to be resolute in making it work. And I know you tried because after confessing your concerns to me, you remained in your relationship for yet another six months.

You are the kind of guy that can deliver your humor with one line. Case in point, you walked by my girlfriends and me sitting at one of the tables in the Saloon and said loudly enough for us to emerge from the depths of our girl talk, “There are the usual suspects!”

So there we were both single and unattached. You work all the time and therefore I would see you all the time but only for a wave hello. When I decided to ask you to get a drink with me so we could sit and converse like we used to during our prior run ins, I didn't really think you would want to. I was completely surprised. What has surprised me even more is how our getting a drink turned into one hell of a fun time at Buffett.

That was a night that I profoundly needed to have and it may have been the axis on which my life needed to swing. I am grateful enough just for the energy and conviviality you added to my life that night but now I am beginning to wonder if there is something more.

We haven't had a date but you have done little things to show your interest. I try to only revel in them during the moment but I have to admit they are beginning to leave an impression. With only twenty minutes left to my birthday, you drove by on your way home after work and roused me out of bed to give me a very sweet and tender birthday kiss. And the other day, you brought me a coffee to my work.

I like that our conversations aren't always jovial. We discuss serious topics and seemingly share the same views on them. But in the same breath, we can turn it around and engage in some risqué banter.

I think I have been beaten down so many times that I have no expectations. Therefore, I enjoy how you continually deliver little surprises.

And then there are the big surprises. I never thought of you in that way. So when I discovered you were a good kisser, I was somewhat bewildered and dumbfounded. Imagine my surprise when I discovered just how much you can turn me on. That one night...that should not have happened but I think it halted before tipping the iceberg. However, you unveiled another side of you that I was unaware of even existing. That sexy side. You are a very confident, take charge kind of guy. Most of my girlfriends agree that is what a woman wants in bed. I worried that was all you were after but since then, you have done those aforementioned sweet things and you call just to call.

I'm taking this day by day, minute by minute. And I know that if it doesn't become anything more, I'll always have Buffett. Thank you for giving me Buffett.

But something tells me there is more about to surface. And something tells me that I may just end up with a Right Hand Man.

I'm looking forward to that ride on your hog. Oh yeah, and your Harley too. ;)

Kisses,

Damsel

We all remember "Beth" from Boston, right? The girl whose boyfriend had carried on an emotional affair with me for three weeks after we met on Match.com? Like I mentioned in my last post, I asked her to guest blog after I confessed that I had a blog. Without further ado, I give you Beth...

Dear Tina -

Thank you for the opportunity to contribute to your blog as a 'guest blogger'. The names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Respectfully submitted,

"Beth"

Just some random facts about my birthday week since I'm having difficulty putting together any coherent thoughts...

~On my actual birthday, my ex took my son for an hour so I could enjoy a run in my new running shoes and with new music in my ears. My mom took us to lunch and then we had birthday cake. Friends popped in and out to eat cake and bring gifts. In between visits, I sat on my porch in some beautiful weather and read a book. With only twenty minutes left to my birthday, a certain “knight” came by my house on his way home after work to bestow upon me a truly amazing, sweet, and tender birthday kiss.

~The day after my birthday, my son and I drove two hours to a lake to visit with my cousin, her husband and their baby. They were home for a week and rented a house on the lake. I love her dearly and was so happy to see her. Especially because she has been battling breast cancer. She looked absolutely amazing and seeing all of them was worth the exhaustion of the day trip.

~The next couple of days I worked and prepared my house for company. “Beth” (yes, the Boston girl) was coming into town for the weekend and was going to stay with me. I took Friday and Saturday off and she and I painted the town, went for runs together and just girly chatted in general. It was a really fun time. I confessed to Beth about the blog and she is going to guest blog sometime in the next few weeks! Stay tuned...

~The week ended with several friends gathering for drinks with me. We had many laughs and although I stated that I didn't want any gifts, some people ignored me and gave me some really nice things.

~And now, I need a nap!

I know. I know. I'm working on it. I've just been so busy. In the meantime while you await my next post, a quote from Snow for your enjoyment...

"The perfect kind of guy...he knows when to be serious and then he knows when to grab my boob!"

Mysteries. Don't ever try to solve them. We're just players in a game and no one's keeping score. So have your fun. Go ahead and tell your story. Find yourself a lover who will glue you to the floor...

~Jimmy Buffett

The days feel new again. I'm back. And I'm feeling much better. I have the best friends in the world. Not only do they support me in a major crisis, like my husband leaving me, but they also support me in a minor one, like a douche bag breaking my heart and not being man enough to give me an explanation.

So to all of my friends from long ago, the here and now, next door, down the street, and a few states over...

I love you all to death and you mean the world to me!

Now on with things...

As most of you know, I am a Parrothead. An adolescent one, perhaps, but a Parrothead all the same. Once again, I have been counting down the days with my neighbor and once again, I have stories to tell!

(Note: Before you read any further, you must brush yourself up on the “Knight Stalkings” posts, Part One and Part Two, that are located in the sidebar.)

In my search for Officer Tallandhot a.k.a. Sir Saltanpepper, I had several “mistaken identities”, if you will. There was Sir Benjamin McFairman, Sir Peter Paul, and Sir Dylan Fisherman. I feel fortunate to have formed certain friendships with a couple of those gentlemen.

Last summer, I was in the prime of my crush on Tallandhot. That was mainly due in part to the fact that I had to perform custody exchanges at the local police station because my ex was married to a psycho that put my safety in jeopardy. Fortunately or unfortunately, we no longer exchange at the police station because he wised up and left her. Tallandhot always managed to be nearby for those exchanges but in the interim of the process, I also ran into several of the other officers that were there the night I finally had found him.

I formed an acquaintance with “Dylan.” I found him to be a pretty nice guy and I always enjoyed the chats we had in the station parking lot. On a rare occasion, Bex and Liv and I would run into him at the Saloon and we would get to chat. He was in a relationship that wasn't always great for him and we would sometimes talk about dating and how difficult it could be at times. Sometime around Christmas they ended it. I saw him at the Saloon and told him he needed a haircut. He told me his hairdresser was on leave because she had to have surgery. So I offered my business card and he called the next day to schedule a haircut.

For some odd reason, I was incredibly nervous cutting his hair. But we managed to joke with each other.

“How do you want your hair cut?”

“Well, make it short. You know...make me look like a cop but...”

“Like a stylish cop?”

“Yeah, like a cop on the town.”

“A cop on the town? That sounds like a porno.”

“Boy! It didn't take long for this conversation to go south!”

Then sometime in the spring, once roadwork construction began, I would often see him on my morning runs. And lately, it seemed to be more often. We always wave but that's it. We hadn't had any good chats because we lacked the opportunity.

Then I found him on Facebook. And I thought, “Why not make the opportunity?”

I sent him a message and asked him if he makes fun of me when I run. I often wonder if I look stupid running. I envision myself looking like an athlete but let's face it, I could be dreaming.
He replied, “No dear, I do not make fun of you. In fact, I often wonder if you catch me staring long before I realize that it's you!” Then I think he threw something in about still working on being left handed. That has been a running joke with us since the night we met.

I wrote back with “one more thing” and told him we should get a drink sometime so we could chat since we hadn't been able to in a while.

He replied, “Sounds like a plan. When are you free?”

“Saturday, Tuesday (oh wait...that's Buffett), Wednesday...”

“I forgot about Buffett! That's always a great time!”

“Do you want to go with us?”

Never in a million years, did I think he actually would.

But he did.

In a way, I was grateful. K-9 had broken my heart. He had said he would go to Buffett and I was so fearful that one slow song and me being a third wheel with my neighbors, would commence the waterfall of tears. I knew that having a guy friend with me would help alleviate that lonely feeling that I was bound to have. And I certainly didn't want to be hanging out with any more “swinger cops”.

Still, I am ye of little faith when it comes to men and their promises. One too many had been broken and I wasn't going to believe him until I saw the promise fulfilled. He called the night before to go over the game plan and still, I didn't believe him.

Sure enough, the morning of, he texted me to tell me that his meeting was running late and he wouldn't make it until almost two o'clock. I knew my neighbors would want to be on our way well before then. But he kept in contact and kept me updated on his location when finally, he called.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I'm standing under the yellow Land Shark flag. Where are you? I don't see you.”

I stepped out from under our tent and there he was. He was the picture of one hell of a fun guy. Hawaiian shirt, fishing hat, and Parrothead Mardi-Gras beads.

He came over and we hugged. I introduced him to my neighbors and my neighbor's buddies and they immediately clicked. None of us had put on our leis yet so I grabbed them out of the car.

“Wait...I have to 'lei' you first.”

“Yes,” he said with a grin, “let's get the 'lei' out of the way.”

We did the typical tailgating activities. We ate, drank, downed Jell-O shots, and played ladder golf. The rest of the group went for a walk, leaving us behind so we sat and talked. Without beating around the bush, he asked how I felt about having more children. I already knew his reason behind the question. He was interested in me and that is one of his main priorities. He wants children. That was something he and I had talked about last summer in the police station parking lot.

Suddenly, I felt like we were on a date. I tried to answer as casually as possible.

“You know, people ask me that all the time. When my ex husband first left, we were supposed to be trying for a second baby. I had had a miscarriage a couple of months prior. So when he left, all I wanted to do was hurry up and replace everything I had just lost...husband, baby, etc...and get on with my life plan. But then time went by and I realized that I was okay with how things are. And as far as having more children, I'm okay either way, with whatever my significant other wanted. If I have more then great! If I don't, I'm good with that too.”
Finally our party returned and I was so relieved. Not because of his topic of conversation but because I had to pee like a racehorse.

You have two choices for restroom facilities at that particular venue. Port-a-johns, that are stationed in the parking lot, or the woods. Having grown up in the country, I know how to pee in the woods and I'm not above doing it, especially when the lines for the port-a-johns were so long.

We walked to the edge of the woods and he said, “Go ahead. I'll try not to look...too much.” I laughed and walked down into the woods and found a nice tree to do my business behind. Then it was his turn. I went back to where he was waiting and he asked me, “Do you want to hold it for me?” I just raised my eyebrow and stared at him.

“My drink!” he said with a grin. “Hold my drink.” I laughed and took his drink while he also trekked down into the woods.

The second time we went to the woods was much of a repeat of the first except that time I asked him if he wanted me to “hold it.” He said he didn't think he needed to go. I said, “Are you sure? Because I can hold it for you.” We were quiet for a minute and he leaned in and kissed me. It was a nice kiss...not too hard, not too soft. It didn't feel like he was trying to get it on nor did it feel perfunctory. It was just the right amount of nice.

I, of course, was a little on the tipsy side at that point and leaned back and braced myself on the car that was next to us. Then suddenly...

WHAP! WHAP!

I snapped out of the moment to realize that there was a woman standing there smacking me with her towel. Stunned, we both just stared at her. “My nephew's here,” she hissed at us. “Go on, get out of here. You're on my car.”

I pulled my hand off of her car like it was a hot stove. Still we both stared at her. As we walked away, we began to crack up. Her “nephew” looked to be about nineteen years old. If he hasn't seen two people kissing before, then I felt sorry for him. And it's a Buffett concert for God's sake! What did she think was going to happen out on the lawn? Our benign little kiss paled in comparison to that.

Soon it was time to head into the concert. When he had called me to tell me he was on his way, he also told me to keep my eyes open for a ticket. Shortly after that, two guys walked by selling tickets. In my already hazy state of mind, I bought it because it seemed reasonable. They were asking face value. But after the guys left, it occurred to me that it was a computer print out that could have been copied fifty times. The trick would be to be the first person to have the ticket scanned and get into the concert.

I told him not to give me his money until we were inside...just in case. He said he would go first so if his ticket didn't work, I wouldn't already be inside without him. You can imagine our faces as his ticket scanned and they let him through the gate. He told me he wouldn't have stuck me with losing my money, which was nice of him to say, but it was my own stupidity to buy that kind of ticket. He was holding my money in his pocket anyway so he just transferred “funds” from one “account” to another.

We had a few minutes before Buffett was to come on stage so we found our spot on the lawn and laid down. His shoulder felt nice under my head and if I would have let myself, I would have fallen asleep right there.

A few songs into the concert, I had to go to the restroom again. He waited outside for me and when we went back to the lawn, he let me choose our new spot. I began cutting through the crowd pulling him by his hand behind me. Finally, I said, “Right here.”

“Nice! Nothing like a dirty old man right in front of us.”

We were both laughing because there were these two older couples right in front of us. They were heavily intoxicated and the one guy was grabbing his old lady's ass like a bowling ball, if you know what I mean. I'm telling you the guy had his hands up in there.

Off to our left a little, was a group of twenty-somethings who were seemingly minding their own business. Soon I noticed the ass grabber's friend in a discussion with the twenty-somethings. I leaned back and asked, “Does it look like there are words being exchanged in front of me? Are they about to fight?”

He had that “cop stare” directed toward the situation but then smiled and said, “I'm not getting involved. I'm off duty.”

Just like I thought, a minute later, the old guy hauled off and sucker punched the one kid square in the nose. The kid's nose began gushing with blood. Another twenty-something took off after the old guy and they had a shoving match that tumbled down throughout the crowd. It quickly broke up and they returned to their spots. Another one of his friends took off his shirt and gave it to the kid so he could contain his bloody nose. The kid never retaliated which was quite commendable and from what we saw, it didn't look like he had done anything to even provoke it.

Not long after, security arrived...the blue shirts. You know, the “first responders.” The older couples began yelling at the security guards and pointed at the young kid. For a second, I thought he might get in trouble for something he hadn't done. That's when “Dylan” pulled out his badge and as discreetly and nonchalantly as possible showed it to the security guard. I have to admit it. I thought the move was kind of hot.

“I'm an off duty cop. I witnessed the whole thing. The older guy hauled off and punched that kid for no apparent reason and the kid never took a swing or provoked it.”

He slipped his badge quickly back into his pocket and came back to me and wrapped his arms back around my waist. He spoke in my ear, “You may suddenly end up behind me. Just so you know, if you do, I put you there.”

Next, the yellow shirts arrived. Those are the big goony security guards, the meat heads. The taller one held a strobe light high above his head. “Dylan” joked that it was a good thing that my flashing pink flamingo necklace was a different color.

The next thing I knew, we had five or six police officers all around us. The security guard told the one officer who “Dylan” was and what he had witnessed. “Dylan” gave one of the officers his business card. The officer told him they would call him in a day or two for a statement. They ended up arresting the guy who threw the punch and they kicked the ass grabber and the two women out of the concert. Everyone cheered as they were led away and you heard many people comment, “Who fights at a Buffett concert?” That was true. That was my twelfth or thirteenth concert and that was the first fight I had ever seen. “Dylan” said that if he has to go to court for the hearing, that at least he'll get paid for it.

How about that? He was off duty. He witnessed something. And if he has to go to court, he still gets paid to do so. Not a bad gig.

The rest of the concert was great. We danced and he kissed the back of my neck few times, hitting that spot that sends tingles down my spine and paralyzes me. My only gripe is that I lost five minutes of my life that I'll never get back when Jimmy covered Yellow Submarine. Seriously? Yellow Submarine? Of all the Beatles songs? Yellow Submarine?

How about Sister Golden Hair, Jimmy?

By the way, I emailed Jimmy Buffett to ask him to cover that. He hasn't gotten back to me yet.

Back in the parking lot, we told my neighbors about the fight and how the police came. “Of course the police came! Tina was there,” they said. I asked “Dylan” if he would drive me home and we said good bye to my neighbors.

When we got to my house, he leaned over and kissed me again. This time there was no crazy lady to attack us with her towel. I was really quite surprised at how good of a kisser he was. He has really nice lips. The bitable kind. And he was completely in sync with me. His hand started to wander just a little bit and he said in between kisses, “I'm doing that with my left hand. That's why it's a little sloppy.” I giggled and a minute later, we slowly pulled away.

I went in my house feeling good. It had been a really really fun night. Indubitably...was the word he used all night, especially when I told him I liked that word. So much so that I texted it to Bex, who of course, corrected our spelling.

After the month that I had after K-9 disappeared without any explanation, I needed a night like that. So even if nothing develops with “Dylan” and me, I love that he gave me that much.

However, he has been calling, texting, and stopping by while on duty which is a little reminiscent of Tallandhot and therefore a little strange to me. So who knows? I have such little faith in men that I'm not thinking too much into it right now.

But it's all been fun and interesting.

Indubitably.

I'm still here! And I'm working on my next post. It's just taking a while because it's looooooong.

Stay tuned!