Friday night we went to the neighbors' house to start preparing for our Superbowl party, ie we needed to make Jell-O shots. It's just our thing. So as we made our Mardi Gras colored shots (grape and vanilla vodka, pineapple and rum, lime and tequila), the snow quietly came down.

I thought the weather forecasters would once again be wrong and the media would have hyped up a few inches of snow. But at one-thirty, I woke to the sound of some numbnut stuck on the side street next to my bedroom window. Are you freaking kidding me? That's when I realized that the power had gone out. My mind began to race. “I have to work in the morning. How will I get to work? I'm going to have to shovel first.”

I woke up again around seven o'clock. Still no power. What would I do for coffee? What can I feed my son? Most of our food in the house needed to be heated or cooked and I have an electric stove. I texted my next door neighbor because she has a gas stove. She said I could boil some water. I figured my son could eat a cold English muffin but I could make him some hot chocolate.

Coffee was another situation. At Christmas, my one client gave me a Starbucks gift card along with a packet of their instant coffee. Instant coffee? Who the hell would ever drink that? I thought I never would. Let's just say that I now plan to keep a stash of that on hand for times like this in the future. It was good and it was not too bad in a desperate time. I texted her that I was so grateful for it. She was doing the same as me.

To get to my neighbors' house, I had to put my tea kettle down and shovel a path first. I was stunned at the amount of snow we got. And going to work was looking quite bleak. My next door neighbors were planning on leaving to go to her mother's house because she still had power. So I texted Laura and asked if they had a gas stove. They did but it wasn't lighting. So Bob, who lives across the street from them was boiling water for whoever needed it. She told us to come down to their house.

Let me stop here for a second and tell you. I had more than a few sentimental teary eyed moments over this weekend thinking about my good fortune. I am so very blessed to live where I do. I have neighbors who truly care about us. On top of that, we are friends. How often does that happen? How do you move into a neighborhood where you love hanging out with the people around you? I knew there was a reason I had to have this house. I have the world's greatest neighbors and I love them all dearly.

Indubitably started his shift on Friday about the same time that the snow started. He ended up working a double because guys couldn't get to work. I-279 was backed up for miles with exits closed. It was a mess. So anyway, he worked a double all night long and didn't finish until seven o'clock the next morning. He called in between the two shifts and texted me right as he finished. I could feel his frustration and I felt sorry for him. He then went home for some sleep and shoveling. He not only had to take care of his house but a few elderly neighbors as well.

Meanwhile, we played Little House on the Prairie. Laura and I had knit hats on and afghans. Kevin put another log on the fire. She crocheted and I knitted. Eventually, we jumped back into our era and started drinking wine and testing our Jell-O shots. She had a battery operated speaker that she put her iPod on and we, along with the boys, started dancing. Ooooh yeah...she has video of me doing the Cha Cha Slide with the three boys. I have to say it did help warm things up a little.

For dinner, we ate Cub Scout style. We made chicken and salmon packets to cook on the hot coals in the fireplace. Laura diced some onions and red peppers and mixed it with some crushed pineapple. We placed that on a piece of foil and then put some chicken or a piece of salmon on top. Fold that up and place on the fire. Once it was done we added seasoning and/or hot sauce. Voila! Hot meal! They also had some frozen potatoes that we put in another packet. Isn't it amazing what you will eat when you are desperate? But I have to say, it was not half bad.

When the sun went down, it really started getting cold. Finally, as it seemed less likely that the power would come back on, Laura asked her sister if she and I and the boys could come spend the night. Kevin and I ran down to my house. He shut my water off while I threw some things in a suitcase. We weren't looking forward to getting out on the roads but it was getting really cold. My thermostat was reading in the mid-forties. When I got back to their house with our suitcase, she had the car ready and the boys were all buckled in the back.

The roads were a mess but we took our time and made it there safely. I was feeling so humbled by the kindness toward my son and me. We got to take hot showers and we were given a warm bed to sleep in. Once my son and I got into bed, I was texting with Indubitably. He was telling me what to do when I turned my water back on and said he would help me get shoveled out the next day. In the middle of texting with him, Laura texted from the next room, “The power is back!”

Perfect! Our house would have all night to heat. In the meantime, we were snug as bugs in a rug.

The next day when we arrived home, my fish tank was making a ruckus because it had no water running through it and my house alarm was going off! There were footprints in the snow to my front porch. I think that the fire department came but my phone was out and they, for whatever reason, didn't try my cell phone. I still have a “FC” flashing on my keypad but Guardian said they were having issues so I'll give them another day or so. The phone took another day to work but I had my cell so I wasn't too concerned.

It felt good to be back in my house. I took a hot bath and we started getting food ready for our Superbowl party. Yep...Pennsylvania state of emergency but we still want to watch football. As I was cutting up vegetables for a veggie tray, I stopped because I heard something outside. I asked my son, “Is that Indubitably outside?”

He got excited when he looked out the window. There he was struggling with his snow blower but still winning the battle with my sidewalks...a corner lot, nonetheless. He got all of my sidewalks cleared and I went outside. I gave him a big smack on the lips and told him he was my hero. He said he was going home to shower and would be back for the party.

So life went on. We still watched football, ate and drank, and enjoyed each other's company. I love my neighbors and loved how Indubitably was mingled right in with them. We were happy for the Saints' win. It might be cold outside but I have warm good feelings inside.

It was an amazing night. I was still cooking dinner when he arrived with a bottle of wine. He kissed me and I asked to see his lip. Thankfully, he has been able to shave. It was only his actual lip that had stitches on the outside. The upper part of his lip was clear.

I wasn't quite sure how my dinner was turning out. The broccoli was a bit spicy. But like a good wine, it did become mildly addictive after the second taste. It was a Rachel Ray recipe so it had to be good, right? Let's put it this way. As I finished the pork chops and toasted the bread in the oven, half of the bowl of broccoli had suddenly vanished. He just kept picking at it and later, raved about it as he ended up eating most of it.

As I was cooking, he was “interviewing” me, as he put it. He kept trying to see my face as he questioned me about a certain surprise I have for him. Fucker. He totally guessed it. But I told him I am pleading the fifth and I want an attorney because I won't give him any details.

You see, I got it in my head that I wanted to give him Penguins tickets for Valentine's Day but short of trading my first born for them, it didn't seem like I could swing it. Just for semi-decent seats, it would run me no less than $300. I didn't even spend that for Christmas! For the ballpark of $150, we could sit in Peanut Heaven but if we were going to do that, why not just watch the game on TV? I tried to come up with some other idea but nothing appealed to me like tickets to a hockey game because I knew he would love that.

So I started asking around. I know a lot of people and I figured somebody could help me out. I got a lot of suggestions for different avenues to try but nothing really panned out. Finally, the other day while my son and I were waiting for his Book-It reward personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut, I just started going through my contacts in my phone. I randomly began sending texts to anyone that might have connections. I got a few bites and then suddenly a chorus of angels began to sing from above.

My client, H, texted me back and told me he has season tickets. It's better than I could have dreamed. Just to break it down for you, I scored Club Level, Center Ice, about fourteen rows back FOR FREE! Not only that, but he gave us a parking pass for the players' lot too. That's right. Indubitably's truck will be parked with the likes of Crosby, Talbot, and Fleury. Well, maybe in the lot right next to theirs but still...

I had texted him and told him that I needed him to take off on Sunday, March 7. I told him he couldn't ask any questions and that he had to just trust me. He told me he needed a time frame so he had an adequate window. I told him afternoon and evening. He then asked if it involved a crowd. I told him to stop and not ask questions.

So of course, as I am preparing dinner he asked, “So how did you score Pens tickets? Sunday, March 7, 3:00 game against Boston. Afternoon and evening...you'll probably need me to be ready in enough time so we can park and walk up to the arena.”

I hate him. You cannot surprise him. But, at least, the fact that the tickets are freaking awesome and that we have great parking will be a surprise. Still, I am so excited to be able to give him this.

Anyone who dates an LEO knows how valuable together time is. He poured our wine. We ate and talked, reconnected. I cleaned up and he googled flights to Chicago for me. There is a hair show and my girlfriend is talking about springing for the tickets and hotel but we would be responsible for airfare. As of right now, it's not looking good. This came up when I told him that I really need to get away. I haven't been on vacation since last summer and I'm really starting to feel it. If he is any good at taking hints...

After I cleaned up, I went in and sat on his lap to see the Google results on his Blackberry. We kissed and snuggled and probably could have stayed like that all night if we didn't have tickets to the Improv.

As we got in his truck, I put in the new Jimmy Buffett CD for him and as he was ready to pull out a black Charger drove by.

“Is that one of our cars?” he wondered aloud. “Yeah, it is.”

The Charger stopped and Indubitably pulled up close behind. Then we saw the reverse lights on and it backed up beside us. He rolled his window down and they said hello. I didn't recognize the guy but Indubitably called him Danno. Danno said he was just riding around making the residents feel safe.

Let me interject. I gave Indubitably a little grief when he arrived. “What good is it to be dating you if I have to rely on an automated phone call from the Police Department to tell me about a burglar at large in my neighborhood? Three nights in a row and you didn't mention it to me?!”

“Only if you leave your doors and windows unlocked. You don't and you have an alarm. I figured you were fine.”

Thanks. Thanks a lot.

We laughed because Danno ran Indubitably's plate thinking he might be the burglar. Somehow he missed the FOP sticker on his license plate? And Indubitably's truck is one of a kind. You can't mistake it.

We got to the Improv and as we were walking through the parking lot, Indubitably joked that we should mess with the people walking in front of us. He said he should loudly say, “That was some good 'road head' you gave me just now.”

I pretended to proudly tell all of the imaginary people around me, “That's right! He's talking about me!”

We laughed and just then, I felt my phone vibrating in my purse. I pulled it out and read the text, “Guess who butt dialed me now.” I quickly looked at my call history.

Mom!

I called her. “Just what did you hear exactly?” Thankfully, just a bunch of muffled voices. Whew! That was a close call but we laughed about it the rest of the night.

Anyway, Greg Proops was hilarious. He kept teasing us Pittsburghers about our salads. “Yes, I'll have a wheel of cheese on a piece of lettuce.” I kept looking over at Indubitably as he laughed. I love when he laughs. It makes me feel good. As I looked at him, it hit me. I think I might love him.

As we left, he took my hand. We kissed at every red light on the way home. Back at my house we had another glass of wine and a serious make out session on the couch before falling asleep there in each other's arms.

Before we fell asleep, I asked him besides a certain talent I possess...ahem...what does he like about me?

“Name one thing.”

“Your cooking,” he said without hesitation. I laughed. Duh, that was obvious.

“Name another.”

Again, without hesitation, he said, “Your ability to decorate.”

That answer surprised me. I wasn't really sure where it came from and wasn't really aware that something like that stood out to him but I liked it. Sure, they are somewhat superficial things but I liked that there was not a moment of hesitation when he answered. I know he likes more than that about me but he is obviously afraid to speak his feelings. It's okay. I know he eventually will.

I finally had to wake him and send him home. He had to work daylight and needed to let his dog out. He called to let me know he made it home safely. We both said we had fun and told each other good night.

And I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

During my morning run, I noticed that Indubitably's truck was not in the police station parking lot for a third day in a row. I knew something was up. He never has three days off in a row and he just had a lot of vacation.

When I got back to the gym, I got on the bike and called him. I just hung up when I got his voicemail and turned my iPod back on. Two seconds later I saw my phone light up with his big old grin at the Buffett concert. I answered and asked him, “How did you score three days off in a row?” He told me today was a sick day.

Yesterday, he was playing with his dog. His head went one way and his dog's went the other. When they met back in the middle, their heads banged together. Long story short and somehow lacking all of the details, he split his upper lip open. He spent yesterday afternoon in the ER getting stitches. He said his lip was a little swollen but wasn't bad. He stayed home today as to not chance anything busting it open again.

Rewind to a year, year and a half ago.

My two clients that are friends with him were talking one day and asked if I had seen Indubitably recently. He was still dating his ex girlfriend and I only saw him occasionally. I told them I hadn't and asked why they wanted to know.

“He has a mustache.”

“You mean a goatee? That probably looks good on him.”

“Nooooo. A mustache. And it's just awful.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It's like a seventies porn star.”

When I saw Bex that week, I told her what they had told me.

“Oooooh yeah. You haven't seen it? Oh, Tina, it's bad.”

I finally got to see it for myself but he had trimmed it back some. Still it was not good. A couple of months into our dating, he was talking about his facial hair and said how he once grew a 'stache. I was surprised that he seemed clueless.

“You know everyone was talking about that when you grew it, don't you?”

“What? No.”

“Um, yeah. Indubitably, it was not good. Don't do that again.”

“I thought it looked okay.” Really?

“Well...I would not have asked you to Buffett if you still had it.”

I don't think I hurt his feelings by telling him this but I really thought he should know that it was not attractive.

Fast forward back to this morning.

I was thinking about his mug and wondering how it looked with stitches in his lip when all of a sudden, it occurred to me.

Dear God! What if he cannot shave his mustache?!

He can't grow a goatee because he can't have facial hair for work. Oh my God. The 'stache is coming back and I am going to be dating him when it does! I told him it will be a test of my true intentions.

But the minute those stitches dissolve, I will make sure he shaves that sucker off or I will have to hold him down and shave it off myself. Goatees, I dig. But not the proverbial cop 'stache.

In the meantime, I suggested a pair of really short and tight Reno 911 shorts. You know, to complete the look. ;)

“Well, I’m the same old guy that I used to be
I haven’t changed at all
I got the same old walk, the same old talk
That will drive you up the wall
The same old face, the same old smile
The same old baby blues
I’m still doing the rhumba, baby
I’m still the man for you”

~Jimmy Buffett

Those lyrics are from Jimmy Buffett's new CD Buffet Hotel. The song is called Rhumba Man and it makes me think of Indubitably every time I hear it. Lately, it seems quite fitting.

Things are getting back to normal. We have our date planned for Saturday. I saw a local announcement on Facebook that there will be roving DUI's this weekend and I thought, “Grrrrrr...he better not have to work!”

Yes, I growled.

I texted him and asked if he knew what he wanted to do Saturday just to see if he had to work. I certainly didn't want to give him the idea of overtime. He texted me back that he was more inclined to go to the late show.

I had mentioned many times that I would like to go to the Improv but it always depends on who is there. Most of the time it's some no name comedian. Not that they can't be funny or worthwhile but if it costs nearly fifty dollars a couple, you just don't want to take that chance.

When I checked their website, I got really excited.

Greg Proops is there this weekend. He is one of the regulars that starred on Whose Line is it Anyway? Indubitably was immediately intrigued when I told him this. I'm glad he wants to do the later show, too, because they always save the good material for the late night crowd.

So I'm going to cook us dinner. I don't pay for dates. I'm just old fashioned like that I suppose. I might buy tickets to something occasionally or pay for a birthday dinner but I don't pay for dates. And I don't believe I should have to.

But I like to cook for them. And that helps, right? I enjoy cooking. And my guess is that he likes it. I haven't killed him yet and he keeps coming back for more. Saturday, I plan to keep it simple and healthy but still full of flavor. Pork chops made with rosemary, garlic and white wine. Chili garlic roasted broccoli. And toasted multi-grain bread.

For dessert...he can have me. But not until after the show.

Now, fingers crossed that he doesn't get called to work.

A client who is more of a friend, because she has known me since I was nineteen, knew that things weren't good. She managed to get me on the phone to book her appointment when she called last week. That was when I was in the midst of The Case of the Missing Mr. Indubitably. I didn't want to tell her because there were other people, co-workers and clients, standing around the desk so I told her we would talk later.

Wednesday night, she came in and stood there with that look that said, “Well?”

“We're fine,” I told her. “It was a misunderstanding that snowballed and escalated into something so much bigger than it should have.”

“What did you do? You started it, didn't you?”

I just stared at her trying to choose my words but that just made me stammer.

“I'm right, aren't I? You started it, didn't you?”

“Well...maybe.”

“You jumped to conclusions about something or read too much into something, didn't you?”

I just stared at her.

“Didn't you?” she insisted.

“You know me so well!” I finally admitted and she bent over in my chair because she was laughing so hard.

“Was it a text?” she asked.

“Yes.” And she laughed even harder.

He came over a few days after Christmas to exchange presents with my son. He was still very sick and had, in fact, canceled on going with me to my parents' house the day before. I was greatly disappointed. I don't know why, really, because I wasn't exactly looking forward to him meeting my family. I know he couldn't help it that he was sick but I was disappointed, nonetheless. I could see with my own two eyes just how sick he was and I was beginning to show signs of getting sick too. It was the one “present” he gave me that I wanted to return.

He played with my son and I made us both some hot tea. At one point, he reached over and gently stroked my leg. I already knew I was going to miss him when he left for his sister's house in a couple days.

The day after he arrived at his sister's in New Orleans, I got a text that said he made it safely and was still very sick and that the plane ride made it worse. On New Year's Eve I got a text at midnight, “Happy New Year!” I was a little put off that I didn't get a phone call. I would think six months of dating would at least render that. Not to mention, it was a very generic text at that.

Did he send it to fifty other people?

That was the last I heard from him.

I tried not to overdo it but he didn't respond to any texts, picture mail, or phone call. On the day he was due to come home, I anxiously awaited to hear something.

Nothing. All I could think was that he must have developed pneumonia and was in the hospital down there. My cold had followed suit with his and it had moved to my chest. I knew it was important to keep moving as much as I didn't want to. I still went to the gym and ran. Slowly. But I ran. I nearly hacked up a lung right there on the treadmill once I finished.

The day after he was due to be home, I left him a very concerned voicemail. Still, I heard nothing. So during a break at work, I made a decision to drive by his house and see if his truck was there. I was deeply concerned and didn't know what I could or would do next but I had to determine whether he actually made it back home or not.

I pulled up to his house. His truck was there...with no snow on it. That immediately told me that he had recently driven it. I walked to the door and knocked. His dog was barking inside so I knew he had picked his dog up from his neighbor. I didn't know what to think or what to expect next.

His mother answered the door.

My heart leaped into my throat. She held his dog back and looked up at me.

“Is Indubitably here?”

“No, he isn't.”

“Oh.”

“I'm his mom.”

“Hi...I'm Tina. I...don't know...if he's...mentioned me?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“He's at the neighbor's house. I don't know how long he'll be.”

“It's okay. Just tell him I stopped by.”

“Okay. I will do that.” She smiled at me. She seemed friendly enough but this was not how I had expected to meet her.

Later I got a text from him telling me that he and his mom had arrived safely as I was “obviously aware” and that he wasn't in the frame of mind or position to talk.

“Suffice to say I am not into drama, blame, etc.”

My mind was reeling. My heart was breaking. What could possibly have happened that he so suddenly changed his demeanor toward me? Before he left, we were fine. He was affectionate and caring. Remember how he offered to help set out Santa presents even though he was feverish and achy?

For another few days, I cried. I was crushed. He wouldn't talk to me. My head hurt from crying and coughing from my cold. I finally sought the counsel of a few friends. Even my eight year old tried to comfort me.

“Mama, if you are missing somebody, all you have to do is just close your eyes and imagine that person lying next to you all cuddled up to you and you will feel better. That's all you have to do.”

I stared at him in wonder. He is such an amazing kid. Then he tapes a note to my bedroom door.

“Dear Mama, I have done all I can do about Indubitably. Go to his house or go to the police station and I promise you will find him. P. S. Sorry about the tape on your door.”

Monday morning, I sent a text asking him to please come by for a minute while my son was at CCD. I heard nothing. Surprisingly enough, I didn't shed any tears that day. I had begun to realize it was most likely over. I was bewildered as to why he chose this way to end it. He and I had been friends before anything else. I thought I knew him better. While my son was at CCD, I was on the phone with Snow and she said it was time to write him an email because then I would at least have what I needed to say off of my chest and I could have closure on that. I agreed with her and told her I dreaded writing it because I didn't know if the words would flow or if it would take days of editing to get it right.

As we were talking, I saw movement on the street through my front door. I turned my head and my heart stopped. It was a very unmistakeable big blue truck.

“Oh my God...he just pulled up in front of my house.”

“Are you serious?” she asked.

I spent a minute or two in shock and wondered what he was doing when finally Snow told me to get off the phone and call her back.

I pondered the fact that he might be here to break up with me in person. I gave him credit for at least doing that. But I was shaking from the inside out. I didn't want it to end.

He was walking to the front door with one of my Tupperware containers in his hand.

He must be breaking up with me if he is returning my Tupperware.

He came in and handed it to me. I took it from him and looked down at it afraid to look at him for fear I would start crying when I noticed there were Mardi Gras beads inside of it. Why in the world would he give me those if he was about to break up with me? A parting gift?

He was coughing horribly, obviously still very sick.

We stood in the kitchen. He asked what time CCD was over. My son was actually due home in five minutes. He told me he texted me back asking what time CCD was because he couldn't remember and so he guessed. I told him I never got his text.

I looked into his blue eyes that had a tired but serious gaze. “I don't know what to think,” I cautiously began.

“Well let me start and maybe it will help you with that.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

The truth is I am in the middle of an immense amount of hurt, confusion and frustration. And I just can't write about it. I've been crying for days. Please don't abandon me, dear readers and friends.

He called while patrolling when we arrived home from Mass. My son joined the youth choir and sang at the Christmas Eve children's Mass. We were just cleaning up a little from our dinner and present exchange with my parents before heading down the street to our neighbors' for an open house.

“Where are you?”

“Coming up your side street.”

“Oh! I'll throw a plate in the microwave. Come in.”

He came in and ate dinner. Every Christmas Eve, my mother and I make my grandmother's chicken and dumplings and I figured if anything would gain me entrance to his heart, this would. It is our favorite meal of the year, by far.

Then he headed out to see about someone trying to steal codes from an ATM and we headed to our neighbors' house. A few glasses of wine later, I thought I was hallucinating when he walked into their house to say hi. Unfortunately, I began to take notice that he was not feeling well. He seemed to be coming down quickly with some sort of flu. He told me another guy was trying to come in a little earlier to relieve him.

Finally around ten o'clock, we walked home to get ready for Santa. I got my son in bed, despite feeling a little tipsy from the wine. Indubitably texted me that he was on his way over. I had asked him to write a note to my son as Santa. Since he is getting older and wiser, I thought he would recognize my handwriting.

When he walked in, I told him he looked terrible! You could see the misery he was feeling in his face. He took the pen and paper I handed him and wrote,

“Thank you for the cookies. They taste good on such a cold night. Sorry about the carrots outside. The reindeer are messy eaters. Merry Christmas! Santa”

Then he asked if I needed help setting up everything. I almost didn't know what to say at first. I felt something at that moment that I have not felt in a long time. I felt somebody being there for me. Somebody putting aside their own needs to meet mine. There he was sitting on my couch feeling achy and miserable and he asked if I needed help setting out “Santa presents” when I knew all he wanted was to go home and guzzle a bottle of NyQuil.

He wanted to come over this morning before my son went with his dad so he could give him his presents but he still felt pretty miserable and was having trouble getting out of bed. I told him to not worry about us. Of course, I wanted to see him on Christmas more than anything in the world but I could see how awful he was feeling the night before and I wanted him to rest.

After my son went with his dad, I straightened the living room a little and then went upstairs to curl up in bed with Dan Brown's new book. I was one chapter deeper when he texted me that he was on his way and thought he could manage an hour out and about before he was to go meet up with some family at his camp with his dad. They are planning on spending the night and returning around lunchtime tomorrow.

I told him I was still in my pajamas and I hopped out of bed to freshen up a little. He came to my front door with a plastic storage bin filled with presents. I hoped like hell that they weren't all for me.

They weren't. But the majority of them was. I was completely dumbfounded and I told him he overdid it. He shrugged me off and handed me the first present. It was a fleece robe from Victoria's Secret that I absolutely love. He said, “I figured that you are pretty thin and the horizontal stripes wouldn't be an issue.” I asked him if I ever told him that pajamas are my most favorite thing in the whole world and he said, “No, but I know you wear them a lot.”

I laughed, “That's just because you always stop by in the middle of the night after work.”

He bought me two bags of Gevalia coffee and a Gevalia travel mug. He told me that he broke a travel mug I once loaned him and he joked that he almost bought me a brand new set of Tupperware since he never returns mine.

Next was a Fighting 5th t-shirt. I had always planned on buying one but never had and was pleased that he gave me one. I can add that to the t-shirt he bought me at the K-9 fundraiser.

Wrapped in a pair of gloves from Fleet Feet was a $50 gift card. I'm due for new running shoes next month and I joked with him that he just bought me one shoe.

Then he hands me a very oddly wrapped package. In it was the entire line of “Dream Angels Heavenly” by Victoria's Secret. I'm somewhat picky about scents so I figured I'd test that out later. It contained body wash, perfume, lotion, cologne, shimmer lotion, and body splash. I asked if he ordered the items from Victoria's Secret online or went to the store. He told me he ordered the perfume online and bought the robe in the store. I teased him that I would like to see him in that store.

“Dude, I have an Angels card,” he replied.

“Oh! Good to know! Next time, I'll just give you my list,” I told him with a grin.

Then he handed me a candy cane shaped box filled with Hershey Kisses. “Are these my New Year's kisses?” I asked.

“Yes. That's not a bad idea,” he agreed knowing my disappointment that he will be in New Orleans visiting his sister and her family over New Year's.

He also had two presents for my son which he said were Spy Gear and two cans of tuna for my cats. The tuna took the cake. I was amazed at all of the thought he had put into my Christmas but the fact that he even thought to give each of my cats a can of tuna made me realize just how much he thinks of me and the things and people in my life. I feel important to somebody...somebody special. I suppose most people take that for granted. But I was once tossed aside when I thought I was important to somebody special and had to overcome that all on my own. This feeling of importance in somebody's life is something I now know to cherish.

I'm not sure but I have this tingle in my chest...

He seemed impressed with the leather cigar case and gift certificate for a local cigar place. But I wasn't sure what he thought of the picture. I explained to him that about a month prior to the Buffett concert, I hadn't laughed much, especially like I was in that picture. I told him that it was because of him and I wanted to give a little of that back to him. He agreed that it was a pretty good laugh in that picture. He read the lyrics that I had written around the frame and tried to name the songs although he was dealing with medicine head.

I have yet to give him the Snuggie for his dog but I designated that from my son since they have a joke about it between them and it will have to wait until tomorrow.

Oh, yes...tomorrow. If all goes well, he will meet my family. Gads!

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. I hope you all enjoyed the time spent with your loved ones and if you didn't, then I hope you enjoy a bottle of wine or whatever poison you pick. Remember to not only cherish your loved ones or someone special but cherish being important to them. If you don't have a someone special, then cherish your own strength and growing independence. I have done that the past five years and it has paid off. Trust me on that.

Again, Merry Christmas and be safe!

I texted him, “Can you take five minutes after work and hug me? I could really use it.”

“Maybe if cookies are involved...people are crazy out here!”

I had told him we were baking cookies. And then I asked him what kind of crazy things could be happening on a Monday night. But of course, it wasn't just any old Monday night. It was the Monday before Christmas.

“Crashing. Domestics. Armed robbery with a gun. Psych commitments.”

'Tis the season.

“Do I still get a hug?”

“I can...still in uni though.”

“Uni. Pj's. Old times. :)”

Before I knew it, he was standing in my kitchen. I then realized the reason for the warning that he was still in his uniform. It was like hugging a cinder block. I slid my hands inside his jacket and let them wander upward until I reached the top of his vest and found a softer spot. Then I buried my face in his neck and he followed suit. I felt the anxiety melting away. It was all I needed. And it meant so much that he took the few minutes, though he was surely exhausted, to give me that.

Yesterday, I texted, “Do you know what tomorrow is?”

“Wednesday?” he answered.

“That too. Want to guess again?”

“The twenty-third?”

“You're getting WARMER.”

I've always worried about making it past six weeks but today marks six months since that pivotal night at Jimmy Buffett. It's our six month Buffettversary.

SIX MONTHS.

I'm feeling quite a bit of angst. Shopping, wrapping, baking, working. Ugh. Then I wasn't sure what Indubitably would give me for Christmas, if anything at all. I have started wondering...

Did I overdo it? Did I get too sentimental? Will he think that picture is stupid? Does he already own a leather cigar case? Was he merely curious what Spy Gear was and wasn't really looking to buy it for my son?

Finding an appropriate card was next to impossible. I didn't want one that said “love” and I didn't want one that said “friend” either. What does that leave? I didn't want a funny card. I wanted one that said something. I finally found one that did not contain the aforementioned words. It talks about how we can be comfortable with each other whether we have plans or not and how easy it is to be myself around him. Since that is one of the things I like about him, I got that one.

He told me yesterday that he was shopping with me and my son in mind. But this was after I had a minor freak out about not hearing from him. He told me to relax. But I can't relax. He is so stinking busy that I haven't been able to talk to him. I don't know what our Christmas plans are. And I really need to know. A couple of days after Christmas, he is leaving until January 6 to visit his sister. That's right. No New Year's kiss. So I am anxious about Christmas. I've hardly seen him in a week. If I don't get much time from him at Christmas, I won't until mid January.

I cry a lot.

I'm nervous. I haven't had anyone at Christmas for a very long time.

I'm stressed.

I'm worried.

Does any of this have any meaning? Or are we...is he just going through the motions? I can't remember how this works.

I need a drink. And a hug. And a deep deep breath.

Oh yeah, and Aunt Flo is here. Don't say it. I know. She's responsible for at least half of this.

He likes my meatloaf.

He helped himself to seconds while he talked to my son about what he asked Santa to bring him for Christmas. I had never caramelized onions before but it wasn't too difficult and he must have liked them because he covered both his smashed potatoes and his meatloaf with them. So cute.

After my son went to bed, we cuddled on the couch and watched some football. We said that the upside to the Steelers not playing was that we didn't have to watch them lose. It was nice to watch a game that I wasn't emotionally invested in for once. He asked what Spy Gear Santa was going to bring because he had looked at some online.

My heart jumped.

You wouldn't think it would have surprised me but it did. He is going to buy my son a Christmas present? I think I am melting.

After he left, I went straight to bed. I was exhausted. Ice storm, Santa, an hour and a half of cooking. I was out like a light in ten minutes. And then he called me when he went to bed and woke me. I still find myself shocked at someone letting themselves become close to me. He didn't have much to say but I guess he just wanted to talk before he went to sleep. And he gave me grief for not sending him home with leftovers.

I told him today that I have a plate for him in my fridge. During his double tomorrow, he can stop by and get it.

All is good.

The man likes my meatloaf.

It's been so cold the past few days with the highs only in the lower twenties. This led to two things.

Meatloaf and Uggs.

I texted Indubitably, who was still in Harrisburg, and asked, “Are you a fan of meatloaf? The food, not the singer. The latter could be a dealbreaker.”

“Both!” he replied. Bleh! Who likes Meatloaf? I told him to stop, that he did not, and then asked if he would want to come over for dinner on Sunday. The cold weather has me craving comfort food and meatloaf just sounds like it would hit the spot. He said it sounded good and so I'm planning a meal of meatloaf, smashed potatoes with carmelized onions, and green beans. Now I just need to ask him if he is a gravy or ketchup person. I'm both. It just depends on my mood that day.

Besides craving comfort food, the cold weather has made me realize how much I hate wearing socks. I skip socks as long as possible until the weather makes me wear them. I stand on my feet all day and my feet always swell a little. What this means is that I perpetually get sock marks on my ankles and I cannot stand that! The way it looks and the way it feels. It makes me crazy.

Therefore, as ugly as I have always felt they were, I broke down and ordered a pair of Uggs this morning.

Since they are not cheap, I had a difficult time deciding what style and color to get. I finally decided I would try the short classic style in a terracotta color. I wear a lot of orange since it is my favorite color and figured I would get quite a bit of wear out of these. If I like them and I get a little extra cash this holiday, I already have the tall classics in a metallic nickel color waiting in my shopping cart on Zappos.com.

Of course, today it is to reach a high of thirty-seven so I should be able to stand wearing flats without socks. Figures. But I'm sure it will get colder. It's only December.

If only Zappos had Sunday delivery, then I could make my meatloaf wearing my new Uggs!

WARNING: VULGARITY ENSUES

I am in a black and gold depression.

Polamalu, get that knee healed and then stop getting injured!

Offensive line, cover your fucking guys so Ben stops getting sacked! His brains are already rattling around loose in his head.

Receivers, catch the fucking ball!

And Defense, hello? Anybody fucking home? Anyone? Anyone? Hello?

Oh yeah, just for safe measure... Hey Reed! Did you see what Sepulveda did the other game? He TACKLED a guy! That's right! Kickers can fucking tackle too, you lazy fuck! Yeah, maybe if a paper towel dispenser was running down the field, you'd attack him.

I texted Indubitably and asked if he heard about the four uniformed officers killed in Lakewood, WA. He should have been already arrived or almost in Harrisburg. He texted back that he hadn't heard. I told him the news and then sent another text as an afterthought.

“Just be safe and keep your cop sense about you.”

“Roger that,” he replied.

I was feeling better about not seeing him for a week. I knew I'd be busy with preparing for a holiday party that I'm having on Saturday. And he came by just to kiss me properly before he left. But then I read the news and a little anxiety crept back into me.

Was he going to be in uniform during his class? I don't know. Why does that matter? I guess I just fear some kind of copycat move from some asshole. For now, I am going to try to think positively and look forward to Saturday.

I had texted him the other day, “Next Saturday, come to my party, call your truck in, and stay with me all night. Can you do that?”

He didn't really respond to that and I felt those old insecurities resurfacing. But when he came to kiss me he said, “You had an intriguing proposition. We'll see when I get back next weekend.” He gave me a smile. It was a smile that held a thousand words. I read that smile and it warmed my heart.

“I even laid the entire plan out for you.”

“I know. I like how you included that I call my truck in. But trust me, they won't ticket me.”

If it happens, great. If it doesn't, I'll be okay but I want nothing more than to feel him next to me all night. Safe, secure, pacified.

Sitrep to follow...

Yesterday morning, I was running and saw my girlfriend approaching on her way to open the salon. I waved like I always do when we pass every other routine morning. As I waved, I was startled from behind by a white SUV. It nearly ran me over! Then I realized it was a police car and heard the air horn through my music.

Indubitably tried to run me over! He later said I was being a bit dramatic about that. I wonder if he was checking out my ass...

Later that day, I was working on a client when I saw a black uniform walk into the salon, Starbucks Gingerbread Latte in hand.

“I got your skim milk but there is whipped cream on it because it's just not right without it,” he teased as he handed me the coffee. He stayed and chatted with us, answering some police type questions that my client had before he had to leave to respond to a domestic.

My client turned to face me. “He is really nice,” she told me. “I like him. I'm really happy for you.”

I felt a little frustrated because that coffee visit was all I had seen of him in a week. He went to his parents for Thanksgiving; and work and an upcoming trip to Harrisburg for a police management course are preventing any together time. We've been able to talk but my lips are feeling a little lonely lately.

This morning, I parked my car and was walking across the parking lot in a semi-deep thought as I was going into work. I wanted to get inside because I was a little chilled as my hair was still wet like every morning when I get to work. Why do my hair at home when I have a better space to do it at work?

Suddenly, I heard a car speed into the lot. It was some kind of silver Chevy and was headed straight for me! As I quickened my step, it changed course to still aim for me. I finally stopped as it swerved at the last minute to miss me. A face smiled from the open window.

“Didn't recognize this car, did you?”

“Oh! A new unmarked car, huh?”

It was a nice little surprise. We talked for a few minutes. I had coincidentally worn a very low cut shirt today and so I was sure to bend down to talk to him. I have no idea if he was paying attention because he made no comment on it but I did get a quick kiss before I went inside. That quick kiss is not going to get me through until he comes home next weekend...to work, of course.

I already miss him and just have an antsy feeling brewing in the pit of my stomach. I think I need someone to hang my heavy bag in my basement. This would be the perfect time to punch away my frustrations. Anyone?

I had the table set. He sat down and poured our wine. Thus began our dinner conversation.

“Do you have a blog...”

I thought we covered this already, I wondered. I admitted having a blog to him.

“...about male extremities?” he finished. I almost choked on my wine.

“Male extremities? Um...noooo. I do not have a blog about male extremities. Who told you that?”

“It was somebody at the Saloon. They told me that you have a 'big dick blog.'”

“What?!” I was half laughing and half stunned. Who would say such a thing? “It had to have been someone yanking my chain,” I said.

“Yeah, I don't remember who it was.”

So it appears that now we have both fallen victim to the rumors that commence from that place. Although, I am quite certain that he indeed remembers who told him. He is just protecting his source. Fortunately, we both have the sense to ask one another about these rumors, upsetting as they may be. Of course, then he wanted to know more about my blog, what kind of material I write about. I told him I write mostly “journal-like” with an occasional subject off the top of my head. He asked what site I use and I said, “Blogspot. Why? Are you going to try to find it?”

“No. I was just curious.”

He let it go at that. But I am considering making my blog private. I hate to do that but I worry about him finding it. It isn't the things that I write about him that I don't want him to read. It is all of the things in the beginning of my blog. There is no need for him to know the Tina who was hurting. The Tina who was angry. That was a dark time in my life that I am so grateful to have survived. I want him to only know the Tina who overcame and is strong and independent, confident and vibrant.

Perhaps if I just tell him that?

He makes me truly happy. Even my son notices among the countless other people that tell me I seem to be glowing these days. I get a text on my phone and I laugh. My son says, “Indubitably?”

“Yes,” I tell him.

“I knew it. He always makes you laugh.”

“Yes, he does.”

That brings me to his Christmas present. My neighbor is amazing at capturing the most fantastic candids. Whenever I try to take a candid picture, it is usually someone just sitting there, nothing interesting. She took this picture of us at Buffett that I absolutely love.

(Indubitably, if you have found my blog. Stop right here. I mean it.)

The picture is mostly of me. The bright sky created a back light. I am wearing my sunglasses and I am laughing. My hair is all model-esque, full and flowing. I could not have made it look that way again if I had tried. He, too, is laughing but he is leaning over with his head somewhat on my shoulder and his face half buried in my hair. All you can really see of him is his gigantic smile and his shoulder. You know we are at Buffett because you can see our leis and his Hawaiian shirt.

The picture captured the entire essence of that night.

I am going to print it, mat it, and frame it. On the mat, I am going to hand write a border of snippets from Jimmy Buffett songs. This is what I've picked...

“I saw him through my telescope on a cloudless night in June.” (Beach House on the Moon)

“If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane.” (Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes)

“A little gris-gris to keep you safe from harm. Rub yours on me and I'll rub mine on you.” (Love and Luck)

“It's time to see the world. It's time to kiss a girl.” (Pascagoula Run)

I'm going to keep it on the small side, nothing huge. Just a table top frame and tiny print. On top of that I've also ordered a leather cigar case that also has two pockets, one for a cutter and one for a lighter engraved with his initials. It holds three cigars and he can use it when he goes to a local club to smoke them with his buddies.

I can't believe I actually have someone to buy a Christmas present for this year. We seem to be settling into a relationship quite nicely. He just “fits” me.

And he makes me laugh.

I'm back. The little old laptop ain't what she used to be but she is getting better every day. Thank you all for the well wishes. I'm hastily catching up on things and am drafting a new post as we speak so I should have it up in the next couple of days.

Before I do anything else, I have to thank one of my best friends, Snow. She always has my back. When she heard what horrible repair work had been done to my laptop and how unhappy I was, she accessed my computer remotely from her house nine hours away and spent hours whipping her back into shape! She is the absolute best! I would be one lost little blogger without her.

So if you could all give her a round of applause...

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!)