Once upon a time, a completely anonymous time, so as to protect the identities of the innocent…
And the not-so-innocent.
The oh so very not innocent.
Once upon a time there was a girl who worked at a great place with great people, we'll call this girl.... Kate.. yeah, Kate sounds good. You know, just for the purposes of telling this story about completely anonymous people in a completely anonymous time. So Kate had worked at this particular job where she had some kind of office job. It doesn't matter what kind of job people, just a job in an office with other office people. Sheesh.
So she had worked there for several months and really liked her job. Then one day a boy came to work there. A cute boy. A cute boy who was a couple of years younger than Kate. Initially Kate didn't think she would like the cute boy in that way since she was older than him and always felt like she was ten years older than she was anyway which made her even more older than him. But he was cute and nice and so she talked to him at work and realized that they could probably become friends.
And then there was an accident and Kate was unable to walk (for completely unimportant reasons) and she and the cute boy were unable to really secure their friendship since she was kept locked away in her office while the world kept going without her. But the boy was super nice and got up every morning and opened the door for her when she came in and offered to get her things and even carry her purse for her one day.
She decided that the boy was very nice and that she liked him.
One day the boy was in her office and they were talking and he mentioned that he had started to see someone and Kate decided that she only liked the boy as a friend and that they could be very good friends.
Time passed and eventually Kate was able to rejoin the world of the working people and she started to talk to the boy more and more... on some days for hours. It turned out that she and the boy had a lot in common and really enjoyed each other's company. They became friends.
Then one day the boy came to work and told the girl that he and his girlfriend had broken up over the weekend. Kate told him she was really sorry to hear that and that she hoped he was ok. He assured her that he was fine. And that day, Kate noticed that he was spending a lot of time talking to her and hanging out with her. She liked that. And the more that they hung out and talked, the more she realized he was a pretty cool dude. And after making some initial bad moves, she agreed to watch a movie with him.
She threw on “hanging out” clothes and headed over to the boy’s house with a great movie in tow. Kate and the boy watched the movie together pausing it frequently to talk. The more they talked, the more Kate realized the boy was awesome. He may have been younger than her and he was certainly younger then she felt, but he had lived a lot. As they talked, Kate learned that the boy was not only much more mature than she had initially assumed but that she really liked him.
As the night went on she wondered if he were considering making a move on her. She decided that she was being silly and that the boy was just trying to be friends and that she should stop thinking with the wrong parts of her anatomy.
The night came to an end and she left to go home and decided that the night had went really well and that, if nothing else, she had made a great friend.

Labels: At work, Being a Chic, Dating, History Lesson, My pathetic excuse for a love life

The next morning Kate went to work in a good mood despite her lack of sleep. She was a little nervous about how the boy would be acting but everything was normal. She didn’t mention to anyone that she had been at the boy’s house the night before though. Partially because she didn’t want to inadvertently scare the boy away and partially because she liked that it was a secret from all of the people around the both of them all day long.
She did call her very good friends and tell them all of the details.
They said that they thought he dug her.
She believed them but pushed that away from the forefront of her mind and just concentrated on the two of them being friends so as not to accidentally make an assumptions and do anything stupid.
Kate thought that this was a good plan.
That whole day, the boy acted just as he had in the previous days. He still came in and talked to her, still asked her for help when he needed it, still cracked jokes, all of the same things. The only thing she noticed was that he was definitely coming into her office more frequently. She allowed that piece of knowledge to creep into the part of her brain that daydreamed. But that was all. Other than the occasional daydream about the boy, she kept “friendship” in the forefront of her mind.
The absolute forefront.
The forefrontedest part.
But the next day, the boy started making it harder for Kate to stay on the friendship track. Mostly because when she was showing him something on the computer, he leant over to point at something and then told her that her hair smelled good.
This made her insides all giddy.
She tried very hard to keep pushing friendship into her mind. She told herself over and over, “Kate, he just wants to be friends, stop being a fool. Stop it now.” And speaking as your narrator, let me tell you: I think she was doing a pretty good job. In fact, I would go so far as to say that she was doing a phenomenal job. But what do I know? I’m just telling you a story.
But the good job that are darling Kate was doing was shot to shit later that afternoon when the boy came into her office and picked up a photo of her and said that her “freckles were cute”.
At that point, the good job stopped.
At that point, Kate couldn’t even find friendship in her mind, let alone keep it at the forefront.
And could you blame her?
I couldn't, that's for sure.
Later that afternoon the boy sent Kate a text message and told her that the two of them should go out and celebrate something that had happened that day for Kate. I would tell you what it was but remember, this is all anonymous. Kate made some arrangements and then agreed to meet the boy at his place again for another movie. And wine. Two bottles of wine.
The evening was going similarly to the previous visit except that the boy was paying far less attention to the movie that he had the last time. And when Kate mentioned that she wanted a pair of socks just like the ones that the girl was wearing in the movie, the boy got out his laptop and started looking for them on the internet.
About half way through the movie, because the boy was showing her stuff on the laptop, Kate ending up laying head on her arm on his lap. Something she considered to be borderline “friendly” but not too much that she would have to feel like an asshole should the boy only want to be friends after all.
When the movie ended, Kate wondered if the boy would make a move or if things would end the same way they had a few days before. Kate and the boy were sitting on the couch facing each other and talking about all sorts of things when the boy suddenly stopped and said to Kate, “How badly do you want to kiss me right now?”
Kate, having had a few glasses of wine admitted, “Pretty badly… why, how badly do you want to kiss me?”
The boy smiled and said, “Really bad.”
So Kate, feeling brave, said, “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you kiss me one time and if you are any good, then we can renegotiate another kiss. But if you are a bad kisser, then we’ll just pretend this whole thing never happened.”
No really, she actually said that.

So the boy leaned over and kissed Kate. And boy howdy did he kiss her. He kissed her socks off. And Kate had, on occasion, kissed a few boys. But this kiss? This kiss was amazing. The kiss made all of the other kisses Kate had had in her life bow their heads in shame.
So when the boy sat back and looked at her, I am pretty sure that she would have had one of those glazed over, dreamy looks on her face.
Kate grabbed the boy’s shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. And another kiss. And another kiss. And.. well you get the idea. This went on for a few minutes… or an hour, Kate really couldn’t keep track of time by then.
Then both of them stopped and talked.
They talked about what they were doing, what they were most likely going to do in a few minutes and what it all meant. And they decided that they weren’t sure what it all meant because it was too early to tell.
Some people might say that if it is too early to tell maybe they shouldn’t be considering doing what they were considering doing.
But those people probably aren’t reading this blog.
So they came to the conclusion that since they didn’t really know where “this” was going that they wanted to keep it under wraps. And then they shook on it. And then they went into the room with the bed. And made very good use of the room with the bed.
Oh so good use of the room with the bed.
Immediately afterwards, Kate had a minor, silent, and internal panic attack. You see, Kate had once had a relationship with a boy with whom she worked and this ended badly. And evidentially in ending badly, scarred Kate. She didn’t really realize how badly until exactly that moment when her brain started freaking out about how she had just become another secret. And how he probably wouldn’t want anything to do with her after tonight. And how she would have to walk around hanging her head because she had just been played. And then the boy sat down on the bed, brushed the hair back from her face and kissed her. And kissed her well.
With the panic attack subdued momentarily, Kate got up and dressed and then she and the boy sat down in the living room and talked some more. Kate told him she hadn’t intended to sleep with him that night which was a big fat lie and he called her on it. He laughingly pointed out that her head had practically been in his lap earlier in the evening in case she’d forgotten. And she said, “Yeah well, you told me my hair smelled good! And that my freckles were cute!” and he leaned forward and said, “your freckles are cute.” And kissed her again. Which shut her right up.
Shortly thereafter he would walk her to her car and kiss her once more.

Labels: History Lesson, I actually had sex, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life

So the next day, Kate had meetings somewhere far away from the boy. And she drove to them with quite the smile on her face, quite the smile indeed. As your narrator, I can positively tell you that Kate was glowing.
She sat at her meetings that entire morning forcing herself to pay attention and take notes and not drift back to the memories of the night before. But the smiling? Yeah, she had no control over the smiling. At all. Whatsoever.
As though she were controlling the outcome of the day simply by being so elated, the meetings ended several hours early and Kate went back to her office. Where the boy was. She floated in and sat down to read her email but didn’t see the boy anywhere. She had to push that little rising of fear up and remind herself that this boy was not the boy from several years prior. This boy was a totally different boy and while he could still turn out not to be awesome, he wasn’t the same boy and she needed to stop freaking out.
A few minutes later the boy walked into her office and said hello. They chatted, just as the had been chatting from the beginning, as though nothing had ever happened. Except that the boy blushed when he met her eyes. Which made her smile.
A little while later, Kate was walking down the hallway and the boy called her into his office. He said he wanted to show her something. He plugged his flat screen monitor into his laptop which showed Kate what webpage he was looking at. And it was a page of socks that she had mentioned the night before when they were watching the movie.
This made Kate’s insides freak out a little. In a good way.
Kate really wanted to make plans with the boy for that night but had super big important plans for her weekend and couldn’t.
So she went home and ate Chinese food. And when she read her fortune cookie, which said something profound about the big decision she had just made that week, she texted it to the boy. He texted back and said it was indeed profound and that he was at a movie. So Kate got ready for bed and as she was going to sleep, she got a good night text message from the boy.
She probably could have survived the entire weekend on that text message alone. But she didn’t have to. He called her the next morning and left her a sweet message and then sent another text that afternoon and then the two of them talked that night. And again the next day.
Kate was, in a word: Smitten.

Labels: At work, Being a Chic, My pathetic excuse for a love life

Kate went to work the following week and everything stayed as it was with the boy. He seemed to be as cautious and watchful as she was. He seemed to be afraid of all the same things that she was. But probably wasn’t since boys aren’t.
He had admitted that night that they were together that he had been too nervous the first night she had come over to do anything. And he was blushing on occasion. But boys are weird and I, your narrator, am a chic – so don’t ask me.
So Monday was normal. Monday Kate and the boy behaved as they had the previous week. They absolutely did not let on that anything had happened between them but smiled at each other when no one was looking and tried to play it cool.
Tuesday the boy asked Kate to go somewhere with him after work and she wanted to so badly but couldn’t because she hadn’t made previous arrangements. She was super bummed about that. But she knew it was for the best that she wasn’t too available.
And besides, he called her that night. And they talked for a little while. And he was totally sweet on the phone. And that made Kate smile.
The following day, the boy was off of work. But he had some work stuff to deal with and came to work anyway. When he left, he called Kate and asked her to find a phone number for him in his office and after she did he said, “Oh and one more thing…” and Kate, thinking that he still needed info from the file she had just set down, picked the file back up. But the boy said, “are you available tonight?”
Kate set the file back down and leaned back in her chair smiling to herself. “I think so,” she answered.
“Good.”
So even though things didn’t go as the two of them had planned, they still managed to get together that night for another movie at his place.
They had drinks and frozen pizza and watched Miami Vice (which Kate didn’t particularly care for). Kate had a difficult time paying attention to the movie with the boy sitting right there next to her. He kept breathing. And being cute. And was sitting right there. All of those things were terribly distracting to Kate and she quickly lost interest in Colin Ferrel and whatever he was doing in Miami.
At eight, Kate asked him to pause the movie so she could make a phone call. She called her brother who was complaining about a large bruise he had on his arm. After hanging up Kate explained the call to the boy and then showed him a huge bruise she had on her foot. He asked her if it hurt. She said that it did. And then he kissed her. Four times. And then sat back and brushed her hair back from her face and said, “I hope that makes it feel better.”
But Kate couldn’t remember anything hurting.
In fact, I checked with Kate this morning and she still couldn’t remember anything hurting. The kisses were that good.
They sat back on the couch and continued to watch the movie even though Kate wasn’t even thinking about the movie anymore. And then the boy fell asleep and Kate got up and grabbed the remote and fast forwarded to the end so she wouldn’t have to watch it any more. The boy woke up as the credits started rolling and said, “Wow, it’s over?!” And Kate just smiled because she is a really bad liar.
Then they sat on the couch and talked and he played with her hair and she fiddled with the hair on his leg. They talked about being stressed and Kate told him that she kept all of her stress in her shoulders and then reached over and showed him where by squeezing his shoulder. Which made him make a noise that Kate liked. A lot. She had him sit up and rubbed his shoulders which caused him to make more of the same noises and break out in chill bumps. All of which Kate liked.
This of course led to making out, as it typically does. And then led to the room with the bed in it once again.
And this time, when they were in the room with the bed it in, they weren’t quite so nervous as they had been the first time. Which led to a lot of communication. Which in turn led to one hell of a night in the room with the bed in it.
When the two of them were laying there content afterwards, Kate told him she had fastforwarded the movie. Because she just couldn’t deal with that lie.
Later he walked Kate to the car and kissed her goodnight again.

Labels: At work, Being a Chic, My pathetic excuse for a love life

I had intended to sleep on the plane. I was absolutely exhausted and didn't think I would be able to stay awake whether I felt like working or not. I had been traveling for ten consecutive days and this next flight was my flight home. It had, of course, been delayed several hours as it seemed all flights home were, but I was too tired to care.
I had sat in my chair waiting with my laptop resting comfortably on my knees while I read over my notes from the meeting that morning. But the fact of the matter was that I was reading the same paragraph over and over and not actually absorbing what it said. It seemed my brain was too sleepy for me to actually comprehend anything.
I sighed and turned it off.
There was no use so I packed my laptop into it's satchel and stretched my arms up over my head bringing my left hand down to cover my mouth as I yawned. There was a spot on the floor about fifteen feet from where I sat and I swore to myself if the little man behind the counter said that my flight was delayed any longer than the twenty more minutes he had promised ten minutes ago, I was going over there, curling up into a ball, and going to sleep.
I contemplated getting up and walking down the corridor again to shake the fuzz from my brain and maybe find some more coffee but reconciled myself to waiting when I realized I'd had five cups of coffee thus far and if they weren't helping it was unlikely that another would do the trick.
What I needed was sleep. Preferably a good twelve hours of it.
I glanced out the window and looked at the dark tarmac. There were several men out there chatting while they waited for the arrival of our plane. That was hopeful at least. I was sure that they could find other work to do if they knew that the plane wasn't going to land anytime soon.
As though reading my mind, the little guy behind the counter turned his mic on.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to apologize again for the delay. I do have good news though. I've just heard from the control tower and they are signaling your plane in right now. As soon as we can get the plane unloaded, we will begin boarding all of you. It should only take a few minutes. Again, I'd like to apologize for the delay and thank you all for flying with us."
It was though a collective sigh of relief went through the room. I am mostly sure that it started with the young mother of two sitting on the floor with one child passed out next to her and the other one demanding she read Alice in Wonderland again.
We'd heard Alice in Wonderland no less than four times in the last hour alone. I sent her a sympathetic look and started to gather up my things and trudge my way to where all the other weary travels were forming lines to board the plane.
I glanced at my watch and winced at the time. Three thirty in the morning is not a time I care to be awake for. I tried in vain to figure out if it was 3:30 my time or if the time here was different but gave up after only twenty seconds and chuckled out loud to myself for thinking I would know. I began to mentally recount the last twenty four hours.
I'd woken up at 5:45 this... well, yesterday morning. That of course was 5:45 their time, my time was 4:45. I was then corralled off to breakfast with two of our vendors at 6:30 for a pre-breakfast breakfast where I was unable to consume anything more than some coffee after our post-drinks drinks the night before. After having answered questions for the better part of an hour, I was loaded back into a car and driven to the conference which lasted (painfully) from 8:00 to 5:00 (less a forty five minute break for lunch). There was a small meeting afterwards that ran until 6:30 and then a car called to take me to the airport for my first of three flights home. That had been less than twelve hours ago and yet felt like it could have happened the week before.
I squeezed my way down the aisle looking for the first window seat that no one was occupying as I planned to shove a pillow between my head and the window and pass smooth out before the plane ever even left the ground. About half way through the plane, I found the first of several sets of unoccupied seats and chose one. Storing my bag under the seat in front of me and covering up with my sweater, I put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. Much to my surprise, I wasn't immediately overcome with sleep.
I tried again.
Nothing.
It simply wasn't fair. I probably would have minded less if it had been Friday. If I were on my way home with the weekend ahead of me and an unlimited amount of sleep, it wouldn't be too big a deal. But as it was, I had to be in a meeting at 11:00 which was only seven hours from now. The very idea of that made me snort to myself. I reached into my bag and took out my cell phone so I could send my assistant a text message.
'Tori - Reschedule the 11:00 for late, LATE afternoon. Flight was delayed. I'll call tomorrow.'
I turned my phone off and stored it back in it's rightful pouch. it was then that I noticed the man who had sat in the aisle seat. He glanced at me for a moment and smiled before turning back to his Dean Koontz novel. That flash of blue eyes had made me feel a little self conscious and I stole a peak at my clothes, or what clothes you could see that weren't covered by my sweater. It wasn't much. I'd opted for a wrinkle free top that morning since I knew I would be flying and one with some fairly decent cleavage since I had that meeting with the account we were trying to snag. I was in slacks since it was something like thirty degrees outside and I'd chosen some practical flats just in case I had to spend a lot of time walking around the airport. I mentally patted myself on the back for that particular bit of forethought. I was sure my makeup was gone or run and my hair was probably standing up all around my head from the static of the seats in the plane. Deciding I didn't care, I looked over at him again and made immediate eye contact. This time I smiled and said, "hi." He stretched his long legs out under the seat in front of him and crossed them at the ankles.
"Hello."
He smiled again and I decided his eyes were not so much blue as they were gray.
"Business or pleasure?" He asked me.
"Does anyone really fly for pleasure any more?" I asked. It came out slightly grumpier than I had intended so I smiled a little to smooth out the edge.
"Ahhh, so business it is then. Me too." He extended his right hand, "I'm Mike."
I took his hand and shook it, "I'm Jane, it's nice to meet you, Mike."
"You too. So are you flying out or home?"
"Home, thank god. This is the last of three flights for me. What about you?"
"Out. I spend about one week a month in Wimberly. I have an account there that I can't seem to unload on one of the new guys."
Thinking about my home and my bed, I sighed to myself. It was a very small and picturesque place. Beautiful hills, lots of trees, one of those places where you could actually see the stars at night. I loved to lay on a lawn chair in my yard and stare at them before I went to bed.
"Well, it certainly isn't a bad place to spend a week. Why are you trying to unload it?"
He chuckled a little at my tone which made his eyes twinkle a little. Or maybe not. Maybe I was just really tired.
"I'm not trying to unload it because I don't like it there, quite the contrary - I think Wimberly is a pretty little place. It's just that it's a week. And it's a little place. I get bored after a few days and end up vegging out in my hotel room reading..." He held up the novel he was currently working on, "mystery novels and eating popcorn."
"I have a hard time believing that you spend an entire week cooped up in your hotel room when there are a bunch of really gorgeous places to hang out."
"'Hang out'? I'm too old to hang out, darlin'."
Darlin.
Damn the chills that sent up my spine.
"I don't mean... I don't mean like that. You know... it's just that there are places." I snuggled back into my chair, as much as you could in an airplane chair and let my mind wander off to the places I loved about where I lived. "There is this place, down by the river... no one ever goes there because it isn't a good swimming spot, but I don't care because swimming in the river freaks me out a little. But, you can take a blanket and a book and there is this great big rock..." I glanced over to make sure I wasn't boring him but he seemed to be listening so I went on. "You have to jump to get to it without getting wet and it looks like you can't quite make it, but you can. Then you are just sitting under all of these trees and no one is there and it is quiet... save for the birds and bugs and stuff, but it is quiet compared to all of this," I motioned around the plane.
He was looking at me. He'd put his book in his lap and had his scruffy cheek propped up on his hand and he was looking at me. It suddenly occurred to me that I most likely sounded like an idiot on account of the sleep deprivation and the way he was looking at me was making me very nervous. I fidgeted with my sweater a little, hoping he would say something.
"See, Jane, those are the kinds of places that they need to have on those damn fliers in the hotel rooms."
I laughed quietly at that.
"Oh no, we can't have all you tourists bringing your books and your blankets and stealing our rocks. Actually, now that I think about it, you'd best just forget that I mentioned it at all." I shot him my good smile, the flirty one.
"Oh no darlin', it's too late for that. I am going to get off of this plane and buy myself a blanket and then I am heading to your rock." He said it and then immediately looked surprised that those words had come out of his mouth.
We spent the next forty five minutes talking about our jobs, our towns and ourselves and I couldn't help but find him intriguing. He was at least fifteen years older than me, maybe twenty, but for some reason this didn't phase me. I still found him to be completely adorable. He was so surprised when he made me laugh and would almost light up from it. The longer we talked, the more I noticed that he was slightly nervous. When there was a lapse in conversation for a few seconds, you could almost see him searching for something to say to keep up the flow. It was so cute to watch that I purposefully held back two or three times just to see him struggle for those few moments before he thought of something else to ask me. And when I answered him, he would have this look of relief mixed with pleasure on his face, like he had just won some small battle. Before I knew it, our captain was informing us that we would be landing in a few minutes and that the temperature outside was fifty five degrees and the local time was 4:55am.
"You're an hour ahead," he said, pointing at my left wrist. I looked at my watch and saw that he was right and slipped it off to wind it back to my time. Once it was back on, I sat back in my seat and looked over at him again. He smiled and then did that thing that people do right before they are going to say something and then think better of it. He instead masked it by clearing his throat and shooting me a lopsided smile. I wondered what he had thought better of saying but didn't ask.
When the plane came to a complete stop, he stood up to retrieve his bag from the overhead compartment and then sat back down with it resting in his lap.
"So, do you have your car here or are you being picked up?"
There was just the slightest of inflections upon the words 'picked up'. Just enough for me to know what he was really asking.
"Oh, my car's parked here. I don't really have any family around and while I have good friends, I don't give out good enough Christmas presents to warrant them coming to the airport at five o'clock in the morning to pick me up. What about you?" I had already checked his left hand and saw no ring so I thought it was a safe enough question to ask.
"I usually rent. The Hertz dude should be parked outside waiting to sweep me off in his limo-van and take me to The Hertz Place where I will become the lucky recipient of a practical, beige, mid-sized sedan of some kind. Then I can drive to The Riverside Hotel and make some popcorn."
I smiled at him and then thought to get one of my business cards from my purse but it was our turn to shuffle into the aisle and off of the plane. We walked side by side to the baggage claim without saying anything and then stood waiting for our luggage making idle conversation about the hour and the weather. Our suitcases came at the same time, right next to each other. We both raised our eyebrows at this but didn't say anything.
"Well, Jane, it was very nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out again and smiled at me, sleepily. I put my hand in his and shook it.
"It was nice meeting you as well Mike."
He stood there for a second longer before turned and walking out to the rental pick up area.
I would be half way home before I kicked myself for not having the sense to give him my phone number.

"Hello?... Yes, she is here.... No, my mom can't come to the phone right now because she is in the restroom and she said if we didn't let her pee in peace just this one time for christ sakes that she would "throttle" us so you probably just want to call back when she is done, ok?... You too, bye......
Hey Em! Can you believe that guy thought that was funny? He obviously hasn't met mom!"

"I want to ask you to come back with me," he said into my ear as he hugged me goodbye, "but the reason you would tell me you can't is the same reason you shouldn't."
He didn't pull away but instead held me in his embrace a second longer with his scruffy cheek pressed into my hair, breath on my neck.
It always feels like this when he touches me. Every time his skin was on mine, it feels the same as when he looks me in the eyes and smiles. I want to jump out of my skin and into his. And you shouldn't feel that way about someone you can't be with. You shouldn't want him to grab you and kiss you proving once and for all that you are supposed to be together. His touch shouldn't be so familiar, so right... he should feel foreign and uncomfortable so that it's easy to smile at him when he lets you go after one of his hugs that make your legs wobbly. As it was, I managed a half smile at him and took a careful step backwards hoping that if I could put a few more inches of space between me and our chemistry.
I'm never sure how to answer him. It mostly makes me feel like an idiot when I can't seem to sound like the reasonable, rational adult in his presence and I can't help but wonder if he ever gets all frustrated and flustered when he looks at me. He certainly doesn't seem to even if he can't ignore our chemistry.
And he can't.
No one that touches you as much as he touches me is ignoring that chemistry. Just as he is walking by and he walks a little closer than he has to and rubs his thumb across my forearm in passing.
He has great hands, so rough and strong. I never would have thought that I would fall for someone like him and at the same time when we talk and when he touches me, I think that he is exactly who I was looking for. I wanted someone who could lock me up when he made eye contact with me.
"Well if that is how you feel, you are probably right," I said, glancing at the car where my children slept. He followed my gaze to the car and then looked me in the eyes again, freezing me in place.
"You think it's them? That they are reason I don't think this-- we are a good idea?"
I thought about that for a second before answering. The thing is, that is what I thought. When I had been in his bed months ago hoping that he would just reach over and touch me and stop being such a friend. I could feel the tension in the room then, I could have reached out and touched it. He felt it too. He couldn't lay still that entire night knowing I was right there next to him. But when I had asked him if he felt it, if he wanted it like I did, he had said we couldn't.
He never said he didn't want to.
"Well after... after that night...." I trailed off, not sure how to talk about it. It had been months ago and we had spent a lot of time together since, pretending it never happened. We had never talked about it. He put his hand on my arm and gestured at the car with the other hand.
"Baby, it's not them. It would never be them." He put his other hand on my other arm as though trying to make sure I would look at him when he spoke, so I would believe him.
I was just trying to hear him over the buzzing of my skin where his hands were.
"I love them. They are awesome. I would hate for you to think that."
I stepped back to break the connection with him so I could speak.
"Oh... well, I guess it doesn't really matter why does it? I mean, it is what it is no matter the reasons right? And the thing is, it's really ok. I mean, you can feel the way you feel without feeling bad about it because of me." I took another step back just to get a little more space. "I'm not going to be mad at you for being honest with me."
He didn't say anything. He just looked at me. I was trying to read his expression, see what he was thinking but I never could with him. He was the first man I had ever been around that confused me endlessly.
I started to get uneasy and tried to hold still and return his gaze without it showing.
It wasn't even a second, it happened so fast. One minute he is looking into my eyes, the next minute he is standing right in front of me. Five inches from my face, hand in my hair.
"What if I kissed you right now? What would you think?" he asked.
"I'd think, 'it's about goddamn time'."
He didn't just kiss me then, like I thought he would. He instead, stood there for a few seconds with his hands in my hair and the heat from his body making me aware of how close he managed to be without touching. Then he smiled a little, as though he had some how won some game that I didn't even know we were playing. He closed the five inches of space between our mouths slower than anyone had ever closed it before him. My heart was racing and I closed my eyes as his lips hit mine.

So, in the way of a second opinion, I set up another appointment with another doctor. I didn't tell this new doctor anything about what the other doctor had said. I only called and told her about my daughter and all of the things we had been going through. This new doctor almost mocked me. She didn't seem to believe that there was anything going on and rather that I had a spoiled rotten little girl. After the last few weeks with everything going on, I was in no mood for her attitude and told her flat out that (a) I didn't have enough flexibility in my schedule to be dealing with someone who didn't take my concerns seriously and (b) that my daughter is the furthest thing from bad and she could see that for herself.
The reason I chose this doctor is because she will go to the school and observe my daughter there as well as during appointments and she is local (which is SOOOO nice after you drive to San Antonio for the umpteenth time).
But, it was more like a dare. Her daring me to bring my kid and me daring her to tell me that she was rotten. Needless to say, I wasn't thrilled about rushing off to this appointment on Monday afternoon. When we arrived, she was very nice and she recognized my daughter immediately as she had been observing another child in her class. And by the end of the appointment, her initial attitude was long forgotten.
Before we left, she looked at me very gravely and gave me the same news the other doctor had given me.
And you know, dear reader, it doesn't feel any less shocking to hear it for the second time. It rushes over you and brings forth all of the motions that you would feel if you were about to cry... And that was really what I wanted to do. Not because I think that there is anything wrong with my daughter and not because this is horrible news but because she is alone in this. No matter how much I am there and her sisters are there, really, she is alone with this. I'll never know how it feels to be her. And that is not something any mother ever wants to feel.
Now we move forward. This is the second "preliminary diagnoses" and enough to push us towards getting the "official diagnoses". I've been referred to all the right people and am setting up all of the necessary appointments. I've been instructed by both doctors to do my research so I've googled more information than I even knew existed on the "condition" and I've barely scratched the surface.
But it is such a relief to know. I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful it is to know that this is normal behavior for her. It's easier to help her now that I am learning about how her little mind works. And yes, it is nice to know that it isn't something I am doing. After Wednesday (the 25th), we will know for sure if it is Asperger's and then we can choose the road to take.
I can't thank ya'll enough.
I've had more emails in the last few weeks than I could even begin to respond to. It amazes me how many of you that I know are dealing with this on some level and I never had any idea. I promise, one day, I will actually have the time again to reply to all of you.

I know, I know... You have been waiting to hear about how my trip went and what happened and all that jazz. Honestly? I couldn't have relayed the tale to you until, at the earliest, right now. Why? Because I was just too plain tired to spend any time in front of my computer and stay awake at the same time.
So, I caught you up to Monday night when I hit Winston-Salem pretty hard with the three guys (you can see two of them on my flickr account. Dallas dude is Mike and adorable NC dude is Chris). Lets just say that, on Monday night, I was persuaded to do more drinking than I typically do.
And on Tuesday morning, I paid very very dearly for it.
I couldn't remember the last time I was even anything slightly resembling hung over so when I woke up on Tuesday morning after about four hours of sleep, I was in hell. You know, the kind of morning when you take a shower and then wrap yourself in a towel and lay back down for a few minutes... and then you get up and brush your hair and lay back down for a few minutes and then get dressed and lay back down for a few minutes? Yeah. It was like that. I wasn't sure if there would be puking so every burp was a welcomed surprise that had me thanking my own stomach. That whole hellish ordeal lasted until around noon when I was finally able to put something in my stomach without The Powers That Be considering sending it back up as an option.
The only thing that got me through Tuesday was the idea of the sleep I was going to get when I got back to the hotel Tuesday night. Except that there wasn't sleeping... in fact, if you can believe it, there was actually more drinking. Which I am pretty sure was the result of the following three things:
1. Some guy saying, "chics from Texas can't drink."
2. My being seated next to the guy with the free drinking tickets.
3. Being on a business trip... what is it about being in another state for the purpose of work that makes you want to consume more alcohol than you would ever normally consume??
The difference in Monday night and Tuesday night was that on Monday, I was just out with three dudes. Tuesday, I was out with like twenty people. There was a whole group of us out playing pool and talking shop and telling wild and horribly inappropriate stories.
So when we finally stumbled back to the hotel at 1am, I needed to sleep. A lot. So you can imagine my surprise when not one, not two, not three but FOUR guys showed up at my room over the course of the next hour (just as I can imagine your surprise that I sent all four of them back to their rooms). I had as many phone calls and at two, I had to unplug my phone and put the little privacy thingy on my door so I could get some sleep.
Wednesday was a short day, ending at noon so everyone could get to the airport. And I was so ready for the airport and the two flights it would take me to get home. My plane to Nashville left at 4pm EST and landed in Nashville at around 5pm CST. I sat next to the coolest guy on the flight to Nashville and had an effing awesome time chatting with him about guys (as he was gay). The two hours just flew by. My flight was supposed to leave Nashville at 6:50pm and land in San Antonio at 8:50pm which would have put me home at around 10pm. However, when we should have been getting ON our plane, it was still on the runway in Ohio due to thunderstorms. It sat on the runway in Ohio for three hours which means I sat in the Nashville airport for almost five hours before I even got on my plane to come home.
I spent the flight from Nashville to San Antonio flirting with the most adorable dude who lives in Nashville but was flying into San Antonio just for a quick business trip. And it occurred to me at that time that that's really all flying is used for these days. Ok, not ALL but mostly. Everyone is commuting via plane. Hardly any families going on vacation any more. Just one person after another perfecting their slideshows on their laptops as they hop from one city to another for business. When I finally landed in San Antonio at a little after eleven, I picked up my luggage, gave cute boy my number and went home.
I spent Thursday and Friday just pushing my way through knowing that the only thing truly keeping me going was the promise of a completely empty schedule for my weekend. One that would allow for sleeping and lounging. Which is pretty much what the girls and I did today. We vegged out in front of the tv in our PJs.
It was rad.
And on that note, I am off to bed. It is very good to be home.

"Mooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmm!!!"

"Yeah Trin?"

"Mamma, I have to get the burgers."

"The burgers?"

"Yeah. I have to get the burgers out. Can you help me?"

"Sure... What burgers?"

"THE burgers, Mamma. I have to get THE burgers out."

"Ok... you have to get the burgers out of what?"

"My nose, Mamma. I have to get the burgers out of my nose."

Oh man do I have a lot to tell ya’ll. Starting with how fucking cool the Southwest Airlines people are. They rock in ways I didn’t know the airline industry was allowed to rock, So next time you fly, fly Southwest – you’ll be happy you did. Chicago was interesting to say the least… People are rude as hell there (no offense but we do judge you by your airport hospitality and it was a low grade) but they were redeemed by Jay, whom I sat next to on the flight and who kept me thoroughly entertained for the duration of the flight. So much so that when the Captain (who introduced himself as the “guy on the pointy end of the plane”) announced that we were descending, I couldn’t believe 2.5 hours had already flown by. Chicago has something at their airport that we in San Antonio do not. They have a moving walkway and when I arrived at their airport, I couldn’t figure out why they kept announcing “Caution, walkway is empty.” But after I had a chance to actually sit down and listen to it, I realized that it was actually saying “Caution, walkway is ending”
Yeah, I’m an idiot.
Anyway, I arrived on time and got my car and hauled some serious ass from Raleigh to Winston-Salem. The other drivers were undoubtedly happy that they don’t live in Texas where people like me drive like bats out of hell.
I arrived at the hotel at about 8:30 and got checked into my very big and awesome room at The Effing Marriott. I called our other guy here, whom I hadn’t met yet and he and I got together for a late dinner. And people, this guy was not supposed to be good looking. He. Was, Not. Supposed. To. Be.
But alas, he has a very distinguished, professor/author thing going on. And he is also pretty fucking rad which is nice since I was concerned he would be a stick in the mud/asshole.
Not the case.
But in the realm of things I was NOT expecting… When I got here, they gave me a little booklet with my itinerary and shit in it which told me what time to be where and why etc. Yeah, I have to be downstairs ready to leave at 7:15am. Not too big a deal except that I am still set internally on Central time and let me tell you folks, being downstairs and dressed and ready to go at 6:15am my time is not my idea of fun. And it continues to be The Suq when I spend the ENTIRE day in basically a classroom being taught things about valves and pumps and actuation and specific gravity and a hundred other things I will be randomly bitching about for quite some time.
However, I do have the benefit of pretty cool people since all of these people are basically like me and it isn’t weird or awkward. We can just hang out, no problem.
Last night, I went out with a guy from Houston, a guy from Dallas (those two and me made up the entire state of Texas) and a very hunky little man from North Carolina…

However, my lovely and patient readers, I will have to fill you in on the rest later because I am on borrowed laptop time here and I need to go get ready for dinner… more later,

When people look at me now with that she's such a bad mother look in their eye, I want so badly to become defensive. I want to explain to them that she isn't bad. She isn't throwing a tantrum in that spoiled way that kids do when they just don't get their way. She isn't behaving this way because she has always been coddled and gotten her way and I have always just let her walk all over me.
I want to be able to give them a look that explains everything. A look that says, she has real issues. I want to convey to them with a single look that she isn't a bad kid, she isn't doing this for attention and she isn't doing it because she knows she will get her way. She is doing this because she doesn't know how to react. And this is just one thing. It is just one thing she doesn't know how to deal with. There are more and they all add up to something, something that is real and valid and not me making excuses for my daughter's seemingly bad behavior.
There were always things, right from the beginning, that made her very different from her sisters and from other kids I had known over the years. She was always very solitary. She could play by herself for hours and be perfectly content. This was definitely one thing I had never seen a kid do before. She also liked picking out her own clothes.. and sometimes changing them several times until she had found the right outfit, which I found endearing. She liked for things to be put away and clean and she could always remember where she put things which I thought meant she was just neat. I never thought too much about how she'd rather stay home than leave because it meant that the errand I needed to run would be a little faster and easier to run. When she started to alter her voice so that she could have a conversation with you, without you, I just found it to be a little eccentric. When she started to freak out every time we left the house, even when she wanted to go, I just thought it was normal child apprehension.
It was this year when all of these little strange habits started to stand out.
It was this year that she stopped being able to make a decision and had to have one forced upon her.
It was this year that her little strange tendencies developed into things I had never seen in a child before.
And it was this year that she started to hurt herself.

I watched her for the last few years as a creature of interest. She intrigues me. Watching her little brain put things together is different than watching another child. I find her thoroughly fascinating. I've spent a lot of time wondering what kind of person she is going to grow into because I think that when she decides that, it is going to be so awesome to watch.
I knew when she started school she was going to adjust to it almost seamlessly because that is how she adjusts to everything. It's like she is driving down the road and when the little bumps come she just cruises over them without complaining. And I knew she would especially like school because she loves routines and schedules and organization. She is comfortable in habit, it doesn't scare her.
And I was right.
She does like school and she has adjusted well.
The problems haven't started because of school. And they aren't really "problems" per-se. They are differences. They are things she doesn't know how to deal with. They are things I don't know how to help her deal with because nothing I have tried has worked.
After several weeks of feeling like she was out of control and everything I was trying seemed to be in complete vain, I decided I wasn't crazy and that she really needed some help. So I called around and found a couple of child therapists. And I made some appointments.
You see, dear reader, I don't think that there is something "wrong" with her, I think that there is something very different. Something that needs special attention that I don't yet know how to provide for her. I needed someone who knew kids and was trained to look at all of these little things she does and tell me that they add up to something. And then I needed them to tell me how to help her work through them.
The thing is, I've always been good at this. I've always known how to be a good mom. I don't know how or why, but I have. And it is the thing that I take the most pride in. And I've never been faced with something I didn't know how to handle or couldn't read about or didn't have a friend who had been through. And I was walking around feeling like shit because I didn't know how to help her. Nothing I was trying was working. Everyone kept telling me it was ok, it was normal, kids act out sometimes and at first I tried to approach it like that but it just became more and more evident that this was not like other kids. I think I knew that anyway. She was just too anxious about everything. It was a real fear in there, not a bad little girl.

We sat in her doctor's office for two hours the first time. We talked about everything from my pregnancy to how she reacts with her peers. I told her everything, I didn't leave anything out. God forbid I neglect one clue, just one clue that ties it all together. And when I felt like I was going to break down and cry she looked at me and asked me if I blamed myself. Everyone had been asking me this. Everyone kept telling me it wasn't my fault. I know that. This isn't about blame anyway. What it is about is that I needed someone with answers. I felt helpless. I felt helpless to the point of complete and total desperation. This is my baby (regardless of age) and I will do anything and be anything I have to to help her when she needs me. But I needed someone who understood to tell me how and to help me understand why. I told the doctor this and we moved on.
She observed her playing and asked her things and my little girl was the most polite, well mannered, happy child you could have ever dreamt of. I felt like I had to explain to her that I wasn't this raving psycho crazy lady who can't handle being a mom, because I love being a mom more than anything, but my daughter was on her most stellar behavior and was in no way at all reflecting the things we had discussed.
And so she started to ask her about these outbursts she had been having and unleashed one. A tiny one, but enough to see what I meant. Enough to understand that I was serious.
When the time came to start putting all of these little things together to make a big thing, a preliminary big thing, but a big thing nonetheless, the most likely answer was: Asperger's.
So I googled when I got home...

GILLBERG'S CRITERIA FOR ASPERGER'S DISORDER
1.Severe impairment in reciprocal social interaction
(at least two of the following)
(a) inability to interact with peers [our main issues in school right now are with her not interacting with her peers normally]
(b) lack of desire to interact with peers [she's always preferred being alone]
(c) lack of appreciation of social cues [she doesn't get when you are serious]
(d) socially and emotionally inappropriate behavior [her social behavior is routine and her emotional behavior is very out of whack]

2.All-absorbing narrow interest
(at least one of the following)
(a) exclusion of other activities [she's always been focused]
(b) repetitive adherence [We do everything the same way, every day. And if we change it at all, we have to start over.]
(c) more rote than meaning [I had to look "rote" up: "by rote, from memory, without thought of the meaning; in a mechanical"

3.Imposition of routines and interests
(at least one of the following)
(a) on self, in aspects of life [This is, I think, one of the biggest things.]
(b) on others [And this one is becoming almost as big...]

4.Speech and language problems
(at least three of the following)
(a) delayed development [She didn't speak until almost three...]
(b) superficially perfect expressive language [Repeating everything over and over until it's right..]
(c) formal, pedantic language [Repeating everything over and over until it's right..]
(d) odd prosody, peculiar voice characteristics [The voices...]
(e) impairment of comprehension including misinterpretations of literal/implied meanings

5.Non-verbal communication problems
(at least one of the following)
(a) limited use of gestures [No use of gestures.]
(b) clumsy/gauche body language
(c) limited facial expression [Always smiles...]
(d) inappropriate expression [She always smiles... no matter what is going on.]
(e) peculiar, stiff gaze [I always thought it was funny how she just stared off into space...]

6.Motor clumsiness: poor performance on neurodevelopmental examination

Wow.
How can I be so excited and so sad at the same time.
I am grateful, so very very very grateful that there is a reason and a million websites and other people I can talk to.
But so sad for my little girl that she is going through all of this.
And it's that sadness that I feel when I get that look. When those other people look at her as she is clinging to the car because it is safe or because she is terrified of a bathroom she's never been in or because they have to wait for us to move out of their way in the parking lot because my daughter has had to open the car door and close it five times (until it's done just right) before she can get in. When they are rolling their eyes, I want to tell them everything I've just told you so that they will sympathize with her instead of thinking she is just a bad kid.
Because she isn't a bad kid at all.
She is one of the most amazing kids I have ever met in my whole life.

--Breakdown - Jack Johnson

So when I picked Jimmy up to go to work on Friday after having took Thursday off, he dropped - ever so casually - in our conversation that he had over heard the boss lady and another employee discussing my taking a "business trip"... I laughed at him and told him he surely must have misunderstood since I have only been here for like three months and I am not nearly valuable enough to be investing plane tickets in to yet.
And with that in mind I pretty much blew off the conversation when we got to work and got pretty busy processing my inbox which had mysteriously filled up in my absence.
Then the lady who I really like shoed up around 10:30 and after she got settled in she asked me if the boss lady had spoken to me. I asked her about what and then she said - under her breath - "about the trip?"
I told her she hadn't and then asked her why she thought that she would and she said that they had indeed been talking about it the day before.
So, around lunch time the boss lady summons me to her office and asks me if I would be available to go to North Carolina. I told her I didn't see why not and BAM! Plane tickets were bought, rental car reservations were made and hotel accommodations were secured. And on Sunday (October 8th), I will be scooting my butt over to the airport so I can fly to NC.
Bet ya'll didn't know I used to live in NC... once upon about a million years ago. We lived in a town called Boone (and I have no idea where it is located now because I am shit at geography) where it snowed and where I saw snow for the very last time when I was six years old. It is also where I broke my arm riding my yellow bike up a hill. I so dug that bike. It had one of those banana seats and it was yellow and pretty and I just knew without a doubt that I could make it up that hill that all the big kids were riding up with such apparent ease. Yeah, so couldn't do it. Got like half way up the hill and my bike started rolling backwards and then I fell off and my arm got caught in the chain and the bike kept going and me not so much. I had to wear a cast for like six weeks and then my dad wouldn't let me keep it after he cut it off. The only other thing I remember about NC is that we had a black lab and she had a whole slew of puppies and one of the died because it got out in the snow. The other memories are those of my parents and fighting and we will just leave those alone for now because I don't feel like souring my good mood.
So, dear reader, I will be heading to NC Sunday morning and coming home Wednesday night. I'm not sure how much getting online I will be able to accomplish on account of my not having a laptop and the fact that the last hotel I was at wouldn't let me access my blog because "this computer is blocking that site because it is classified as: porn". Like any time in the last year my blog has reported anything even remotely close to porn!
I fly into Raleigh and then drive to Winston-Salem, where I will be staying and which I honestly thought was THE Salem until I googled and found out that THE Salem is in Massachusetts (which I just butchered so badly that the spell checkers only guess as to what I was trying to spell was "Masochists"). So, if you know of any cool shit to do there, email me or leave me a comment because I will have a car.
Ok, that's all for updates for now... have to work :)
Have a great day everyone!