(No, that is not a typo, it's from Shakespeare. That's right, showing off, uh-huh!)
Why that title? Because I feel more sensible tonight! Yippee! In spite of probably having too much to drink and lowering my inhibitions (which I usually like kept firmly in place, uh-huh.)
So who no longer glisters? That would be Muckraker. And yes, I am actually happy about that! (I'm a complicated girl, I know!)
First of all, why am I so happy that I no longer view him with ga-ga goggles? Need I say more? Ga-ga goggles are not good for much other than having one's head in the clouds.
Do I still like him? A lot? Yes. Has some of the glister worn off to show the brass beneath? Yes. That's not a bad thing, that's reality. And I appreciate reality! I can work with reality! I cannot work when my head feels like it's not screwed on straight.
This evening I went out to celebrate the end of classes with a couple of friends. I'd been in my pjs all day, and gross and hadn't showered, but I didn't do much before going out to look good (well, I don't leave the house without make-up, so there you go...) because I was going out with my gay boys. (Love the gays! Yea! Got to cuddle with a friend. Sometimes that's all you really need.)
We went to dinner and then they mentioned that a group of people were at another restaurant. I thought I'd join them for a bit, and of course it turned out that Muckraker was there.
I was annoyed that he hadn't been in touch with me since last week... (ok, ok, that was only 3 days since last he was in touch with me. But still! That's a WHOLE OTHER week ago! Thursday to Monday!) In any case I'd been doubting myself quite a bit given his silence. At the restaurant his behaviour seemed to indicate that he didn't particularly care about talking to me, though we made slight small talk.
The group moved to another bar (as this group seems to do)... and I thought "What the hell? I need to celebrate the end of the term." So I joined them and Muckraker proceeded to get hammered... (yet somehow retain a lot of control over his faculties, so I don't know how much is an act.)
Fortunately this time I had remained pretty sober, having eaten and having only two drinks spaced about 5 hours apart.
I have to say we did have a good conversation-- not as good as the other night, but we seem to find stuff to talk about pretty easily.
Though he seems little interested in me when he's sober, he does seem fairly interested when he's hammered. I don't know if I should be insulted by this or not. Many of his comments were flirtatious, but I have to say the one that kind of threw me for a loop was when he asked about my shoes. Yes, I have a thing for shoes-- I guess I'm kind of known for that.
He asked me why I wasn't wearing my heels tonight--he said there was a pair he liked very much. (They're MY favorites too!!! Faryl Robin Fenway! Google that shit! But don't buy them in size 10, or I may have to hurt you!) He asked me why I always kicked off my shoes in class... was I trying to kick off the patriarchy? (Hah!)
I have to admit I was rather astonished to hear that he had been paying that much attention.
I couldn't believe we had anything left to talk about, but evidently we did. Some stuff came out though that put my mental brakes on a screeching halt, and my inner Judgy McJudgerton was very disapproving. So much so that I'm thinking... there's no way I could be with this guy. NO WAY. (See! To all my friends who thought I'd lost my marbles, I knew they weren't gone forever!)
Do I still like him? Yes. Do I still want to make out with him (and lots of other fun stuff that will not be mentioned here)? Yes.
Do I think there's much of a future? No. Not unless he were to change those things that he mentioned. And I would never make anyone else change for my sake.
Do I think I can do the fun stuff without hope about a future? ... That, I don't know. I talk a good game, but I admit that I've never been able to really be with anyone I don't envision a future with-- It's not really in my nature. I'd like to be a Samantha, but let's face it-- I'm more conservative than Charlotte.
So, where do I go from here? I don't know... Let things go wherever they may I suppose.
I feel like I'm not imagining his intentions though. At the end of the night he gave me a hug. He buried his face in my hair and kissed my temple. Three times. He squeezed my arm. He said, "I'll see you soon." (To which, you'll be proud to know, I did NOT exclaim "How soon is soon!?!!??! I need to know! Exactly and down to the minute!!!") Is this just extreme friendliness? Drunkeness? Try to get with a girl who seems like she might sleep with you-ness? Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
But, who says I'm not trying to get with a guy who seems like he might sleep with me (and yes, I with him)? And be fucking amazing to talk to? Not often that you get both of those things in one package.
All that being said, do not be surprised if I kick him to the curb sooner than not either. That is, after all, my M.O. ... And now that the glister is gone, and I've found a flaw... well, I can almost hear the stopwatches starting.
But maybe I'll hang onto this one a bit longer. Time will tell.