Confessions of A Naughty Girl

Does This Merit Hives or High-Fives?

Didn't think I was coming back, did you?

Well, I wasn't so sure for awhile either.

If you ask me where I've been the last three months I will tell you that I've been everywhere and nowhere all at once. The only time I ever left town was for a four-day weekend in Chicago (remind me to tell you about that later), but what took me everywhere was a survey of my life that led to some big, but very necessary, changes (remind me to tell you about that later as well).

The bottom line is that I finally feel like I'm in a good place to share, so please, indulge my narcissistic habit of writing about myself and enjoy.

Beside the very obvious physical and emotional results you see posted here, at the risk of jinxing my entire relationship (watch it swish around the toilet after I post this), the most notable change in recent weeks is a new man.

And yes, I believe that this one might be different.

I've never been much for buying into the theory of love at first sight, but what I can gauge from personal history is that just before each time I've gotten into a long-term relationship (and no, there haven't been all that many), I get this...feeling. Of the three-ish "big" relationships I've been in, I flirted with the verge of knowing something monumental was going to come out of it, for better or worse. I can't describe the feeling other than to say that very early on you feel like this is someone who's going to be memorable. Distinct. And whether it's because he's a colossal asshole or a member of your "Fifty, Give or Take", you don't know. And shit, is that fun!

It's also, as I've so quickly forgotten, terrifying. In this instance, I feel like I went to bed single and woken up not only with this sexy, intelligent, successful, funny guy next to me, but also (not technically, but quite close) - taken. And I'm not complaining, but that is kind of a tough pill to swallow, beyond the capitalized-Pill-you-are-now-faithfully-taking-every-day-on-time-so-that-your-new-quasi-boyfriend-doesn't-accidentally-knock-you-up. Trust me.

It's only now that I remember how hard it is to get a relationship off the ground, because in addition to getting your own life together (a daily battle for most, and I am no exception to this rule), you are now worrying about things like: how to learn to cook, birthday presents, turning boys down at the bar, good date activities, his billable hours, whether or not your put the dirty bra in the hamper, and, according to Cosmo, "How To Satisfy Him With The Secret Move He's Dying For You To Try."

Are you with me, people? This is a lot. Of. Pressure. Enough to make me break out in hives. Lest I also remind you that I, having been single for most of this blog's lifespan, am a little rusty.

Looking back, there have been a lot of opportunities, and quite frankly, I let most of them pass me by. Sure, we can all point the finger at Mr. Opportunity and claim sexual dysfunction, or general dysfunction, or Needy Tit-Suckler, or, in many of my cases, Plain Crazy Motherf*cker (my personal favorite excuse), but the thing about this guy - Darcy, if you will (named after my favorite leading male character of all time, Mark Darcy from "Bridget Jones' Diary" - I love you, Colin Firth), is that he's the first person in a very long time where I feel like nothing is holding me back.

What the hell do you mean by this? Okay, I probably lost you. But hear me out - every other guy in my life has been somewhat conditional - in other words, I've had to "resign" myself to something about him that bothered me. Apathy? I accepted it -nonchalantly, of course. Stupidity? I "axcepted" it. No physical chemistry? Well, I never really accepted that, but arguably my friends would cite a guy we know simply as "Schweaty" that might disprove what I just said. And I'm pretty sure the very last guy I dated is due to come out of the closet before white shoes go out of style after Labor Day, or at least I'm inclined to believe so courtesy of some sexually-questionable MySpace pictures. (And if you need to see the evidence for yourself, let me know - I'm happy to point you in the right direction.)

So in walks this guy who is everything I'm looking for, and while I feel like the luckiest person around, I am scared stupid. And awkward. So awkward, in fact, that when we were watching "The Hills" the other day (man after my own heart) and he asked if I would be mad if he went to dinner with one of the "characters" on the show, my verbal response was not my initial knee-jerk reaction of "Bitch, get off my man!", but rather, I turned to him and said, "Where are you guys going for dinner?"

Awkward turtle.

The good news to the situation is this: we like each other, we're happy, and she'd never ask him to dinner. (She lives in L.A., for Christ's sake. What would she want to do with a guy who couldn't get her a recording contract or some fake tits, anyway?) And the best news is that I am going into this with a clear head and more desire to make this work than I've ever had in any other relationship. It's still early guys, but it's promising.

So stay tuned. Once I get over these hives, we can break out the high-fives.

posted by KA @ 10:44 PM