Greedy

I miss the boy and I'm not getting the attention I feel I deserve.  Mind you, I feel that I deserve it, not that it's something I should have.  He's certainly free to get what he wants.

I like it better when he's here - when I can read him.

Sweet Christmas, ain't I something? 

Ladies?

Airport

So, my one-day reprieve is over.  I took the boy to his parents' house, and he seemed surprised that I didn't come in.  Well, honey, I had a meeting at noon, plus I've not showered, am wearing no makeup, and the outfit I have on is yesterday's.  Plus, there's a very active four-year-old boy in there.  So thanks, as much I want to be around you FOREVER AND EVER, I will not be joining you in your folks' house.

In an hour I'm leaving to go to the airport to say goodbye to the boy.  I absolutely do not want to do this.  This is because once I see him leave, he's gone, and I won't see him again for months.  I don't want him to go.  He doesn't want to go.  We've had such a good time together.  We ate out a lot.  We stayed in a lot and watched TV.

He is now addicted to Teen Mom.  See what I do?

So we drank and ate and laughed and talked and laughed and talked and laughed and talked.  And once he's gone, how will I fill the time?  I've gotten used to seeing him three or four times a week.  I've gotten him used to being, at the furthest, four-and-a-half miles from me.

I better go take a shower.

I don't think my mascara's waterproof.

A One-Day Reprieve

The boy was scheduled to leave today, but in the time-honored tradition of me missing my flight to DC in June because I apparently can't read an itinerary, he missed his flight.

Darn.

Although it costs a fortune to change a ticket, I'm so glad to get him for one more night.  The tears I cried this morning have dried and hopefully I'll feel a little stronger tomorrow so I don't have to go through them again.

A First

Apologies.  I know I've been neglecting our discourse.  When the boy is around, everything else falls to the wayside, including my telling you stories.  He's leaving on Wednesday and I'll be a better writer once I get done with the sobbing.

Today the boy and I went to Cita's place, because she and I have been texting about a visit for a while now.  Schedules have been crazy, and the boy likes NEVER HAVING PLANS while in town, so this was a delicate balance, but I'm glad it's happened.

Aside:  One of the boy's favorite things to say is that he's never go to Iraq for any amount of money.  But after seeing Cita's place, he reconsidered.  So cute.

I was so happy to see Cita's husband, back from Iraq, home safely.  He might have been a little taken aback when I hugged him, but is there a better time to hug someone than when he returned safely from a war?  He'll be all right.

Cita, her husband, the boy, and I got on famously.  I'm so glad to introduce him to the important people in my life.  I got to see Cita and her husband joke and play, and they got to see the boy and I interact.  I loved this afternoon.

Afterwards, the boy and I went out to dinner and, like you do, discussed our afternoon with them.  "I like them, they're good people," the boy told me.  (Well, yeah!)  Then we discussed how our relationship is and should be.  It was a good conversation.

Tonight I texted Cita to thank her for having us over, and that WE had a great time.

This was my first WE.

Family Fun

The theme of this visit has been family.  When I was in Seattle last, the theme was OW! because I couldn't seem to stop injuring myself. 

His parents invited me out to dinner on Thursday, we ate delicious Mexican food, and I discovered that the boy's mother and I share a mutual hatred of screeching children and a mutual love of Project Runway.  She's got that splash of bitterness that I recognize in me and and in my own Momma.  Boy Momma and I are going to be just fine.  The boy's father is a very sweet man, who loves old comedy and the occasional esoteric reference.  I can see where the boy gets many of his habits and inclinations. 

Sunday we went to meet my Momma for brunch.  Momma had met the boy before, but it was about twenty years ago and I'd like to think we'd all grown up some.  I believe that she thinks he was too "fast" for me back then and she's always been a little reticent about the boy's and my relationship.  I asked her to have an open mind, and I think she tried.  At least, she thawed throughout the meal.  It was tense at first, but it is also approaching one million degrees (without the heat index) and that shortens tempers.  Still, she smiled at the boy a few times and when I came back from a visit to the ladies', they were having a friendly conversation.

So we'll see.  I'd like my family to like the boy, at least the way his family likes me.  But if they decide not to, well, there's not a lot I can do about that.

Romance Bubble

Wow, it's been days since we've talked.  And in those days, I have luxuriated in time with the boy.  Time we don't often get.  We watched movies.  We took walks in the rain.  We ate enough food that even Biggs got a snack.  We held hands while we were in bed - you'll get nothing else from me!

It's so easy for us to get lost and comfortable and...kinda free.  There's nothing better for me than curling up next to him.  We are touchers - even on opposite sides of the couch, we hold hands.

I know I sound like a dope but I had such a good time with him, and I look forward to many more.

As long as he remembers to use a coaster.

Let's Talk About Wax, Baby

Yesterday, Momma and I went for mani/pedi/waxes.  Well, let's be honest - Momma went for a pedi, and I went for the total package.

A chair or so down from me was a girl about ten years old.  She looked over when one of the ladies brought the wax to my table and worked my brows back into submission.  (Fellas?)  Her mom laughed, in a way that only ladies who have been waxed can laughed, and asked her daughter, "Do you want your brows done?"  The girl hesitated and watched.

This reminded me of the very first time I got my brows done.  They're not bad naturally (fellas?) but a little but of sculpting goes a long way.  Thankfully I had armrests the first time.  The wax doesn't feel bad when it's applied, but once the ripping strip is on, you know this isn't going to be fun enjoyable sexual pleasant. 

I'll tell you, the rip made me almost jump out of the chair.  That shit HURTS, people!  And then I had to endure more.  Once the lady ripped out the hair from the eye side of my brows, I was in tears.  And then there was another eye.  Once you know true pain, you cannot believe you have to endure it on your opposite side.

But I got through it, again and again, and then went back and have now had this "beauty" treatment done more times that I can count.  It's not so bad now, although I think what gets to me is the anticipation.  I now longer jump, or have to hold a stress ball (although I might still when I get a blood draw).

Still, my reaction, and the subsequent pinkness around my brows which lasts for about ten minutes, made this little girl tell her mom, "No!  I do not want to be waxed!"

Godspeed, girl.  Your day is coming soon enough.