An update on the Doodler. I do no like, nor do I accept, guys sending mixed messages. According to He’s Just not That Into You, I’m supposed to read the signs and accept, without a guy actually saying so, that he’s not interested. But the Doodler left me confused. He seemed interested! We hooked up! He’s roommates with one of my friends! Besides, we had fun, didn’t we? Why wouldn’t we go out again? I emailed the Doodler on Friday evening, suggesting we go out this week. I haven’t gotten a response. Rude much?
As for Chicken Parm, things have been rather nice between us the last few weeks. Friday evening, Chicken Parm came over, not to spend the night, or go to dinner, or even to screw. No, he came over to nap. And cuddle, too. Then, he left. Last week, he told me, “I wish we lived in the same building but had separate apartments, so I could do work in mine, but sleep in yours.” It was oddly romantic. I think I may have even said, “Aww.”
Saturday night, I had a date with another guy from OK Cupid. In our first IM conversation, he told me that he was looking for something that would be serious, as he’s looking to have children in the next three to five years. After being dumped by a guy who decided he didn’t want kids, it’s refreshing to hear from a guy who’s that interested in procreating. At one point, he suggested I come over so he could impregnate me, which would have made a normal person run, but I am not normal and remarks like that make for excellent blog fodder.
He’s cute in a Nerd Girl Porn way. Glasses, check! Plaid, check! And he’s looking to teach high school history. He studied classical languages in college, which means he can read Greek, Latin, and, like, some ancient Hebrew or something. But get this. His dad is a Pentecostal minister.
“Did you see ‘Borat’?” he asked. I did. “Remember that scene in the church? That’s what I grew up with.” He’s agnostic now, I guess, which is a relief, as fundamentalists scare the crap out of me. After all, they think I’m going to hell. Is it almost a guarantee that his parents wouldn’t be fans of mine? Awkward. But maybe I’m getting way ahead of myself, as usual.
After dinner, I walked him to the train and learned that he’s not a fan of the beach and would never go on a vacation where the sole purpose is to lay in the hot sun. This is unfortunate, as I daydream about doing just that on a daily basis. He kissed me goodbye, which was nice, and then texted me later to tell me he had fun and would like to see me again. You mean sometimes men do text? I wouldn’t say there were fireworks, but I was left intrigued, so I’m game for round two. Anyway, sometimes I think fireworks are bulls**t.
(Update: Oops! Just got a reply from the Doodler. A nice one. I am officially the last person who should be analyzing men’s motives or thought processes.)