Thoughts on a Saturday morning, before coffee, no less

Do you ever have those dreams that are all too real, you wake up, and your mood’s already shot?
I’m supposed to have a nice day today. Got someone coming by about 1 for an hour, then I have to head out to my father’s 64th birthday — a crib tournament. Oh, “whee.” What freaks me out is the Guy’s disappointed he can’t go (he of gimpy leg and crutches). I suppose that’s a good sign — he actually wants to meet my folks, which is likely happening Monday. Whack, hey? A late-night rendezvous with the Guy is scheduled this evening, and I’m sure that’ll be up to its regular real-good-stuff, but I’m still grumpy.
I don’t recall the contents of the dreams, just “dead Dad” as synopsis would suffice. I suppose this is one of the reasons you want to listen to your voicemail before bedding down for the night: You have one of these all too real dreams, and the message indicator’s blinking at you, it’s a little disconcerting.
Anyhow, I know my mood will shift. The big pressing question is, it’s an unpredictable Wet/West Coast day: Do I take my little ol’ scooter all the way the hell out to the burbs, some 45 klicks, and risk the rain? If I do, I imagine the “Warm me up NOW” demand on the Guy could certainly provoke fun and games when I get home.
Oh, dilemmas. Anyhow, like you care. All right, then: Smut, smut, smut, smut. Happy?
No, last night was another good night with the guy — kissin’ like fiends and, well, yes, okay, we had the dirty s-e-x thing, too. The Guy’s kicked the codeine, and it seems like my evil tricks do indeed stir the creature from its dark depths all too well. I wasn’t planning on fucking the boy, but hey, sometimes the best laid plans should be laid aside in favour ofgetting laid. So, we did.
It’s fun, this relationship journey. It’s like you carry a mental notepad and keep score of every little thing you learn. (Well, if you don’t, you should.) I’m forming this hierarchy of things I can do to rile the Guy, and lord knows he’s got his list on me.
But there’s this other list, this list that continues growing of things we both share loves for. Writing, reading, film, they’re all at the top of the list. We’re both very, very passionate about words, and he’s incredibly invested in my writing, which rocks me all the day long. But then there’re those inconsequential little things that really add up to “a hill of beans” in this big ol’ world. Both of our favourite frozen pizzas are McCain’s International Sicilian thin-crust pizza (which those bastards don’t sell at the Canadian Superstore.) We’re both big Anthony Bourdain fans. We both dislike mushrooms. We both can cook well. We’re both cute but a bit on the geek-chic-y side of things with glasses. Yada, yada, yada.
Maybe it’s true, maybe opposites do attract. But do they stay united? I’ve never found that they did. I’m enjoying the fact that not only do we share passions for the word, for each other, et cetera, but we share inconsequential little likes and loves, as well as very similar life experiences. Some days, it freaks me out a tad. I feel like Jim Carrey in Truman, as if I’m beginning to realize the joke’s on me.
Up there in the cosmos, Ed Harris as god, chortling a “hardy-har-har” as he watches with grand amusement while I begin to realize, yes, it really is all too very good to be true.
But just because I feel that way, doesn’t mean I actually believe it. I just continue to be the more cautious one in this relationship, but the caution’s starting to fade a little. The Guy makes a point of telling me how much he digs me, and often, because he’s finally in the position where he doesn’t need to be the analytical one anymore. He gets to read this shit and see, “Hey, she’s analysing it and being cautious. Cool.” He sits back, enjoys the knowledge that I’m not running into this as some madly possessive swooning chick who’s already searching out wedding bands (and that’s NEVER gonna happen, babe). Most guys don’t get the experience, probably, of having an articulate girlfriend who can reason out all the beginning stages of fear/apprehension/knocking down walls in a relationship. I suppose it’s an interesting experience at his end.
And, honestly, as a chick, this is a bit of a rare experience at my end, as well. Not a lot of guys tend to be so forthcoming about their feelings — and not in a I’m stalking you kind of way, and not in an I’m needy kind of way, either. No, he’s pretty casual in how he expresses his feelings, and it keeps it comfortable and simple.
I think keeping most of the in-between-evenings contact confined to email means we don’t feel too tethered to the other just yet. Our only phone contact this week was when I knew he was having a lousy day and I left a message to the effect of, “I’m sorry for the day you’re having, you’re in my thoughts. I’m looking forwards to seeing you, and I hope your day’s improving.” His only contact with me was essentially a “I was thinking of you and wanted to hear your voice” type message. Yes, both were voicemails, and I suppose we probably both felt fuzzy afterwards. Then, it’s back to email until we happen upon each other. I keep my life, and albeit limited to crutches, he keeps his.
But, when we’re together, dude says all the right things, and I try to, too. Okay, well, no, we’ve both said ridiculously bad things at times — we’re both painfully irreverent, and it sometimes means ludicrous things get said in bed that are followed with five-minute laughing fits, which I love — but they’re bad things said in the right way.
So, sharing passions should be the backbone of a relationship, but the commonalities make it fun. This is fun. I’m enjoying it. And I know I’ll never have to be forced to eat mushrooms when he cooks for me. Wicked.
But Jesus, was that a depressing dream. Hey, I know. I’ll make bacon for breakfast. Bacon fixes EVERYTHING. Right?

6 thoughts on “Thoughts on a Saturday morning, before coffee, no less

  1. Anonymous

    Hey Steff: Sometimes you make me smile as I read your stuff.My advice to you and him is…… One day at a time. I think two people who are supposed to be in LOVE,it continues to grow,level off,or go away. I love bacon!!!!!! regards richard P.S. Did you ever get anything from me thru pay-pal?

  2. The boyfriend

    What Steff doesn’t mention is the number of things we don’t have in common: she loves hockey, and I hate it. Our reading tastes are very different and intersect very rarely. I have a number of favourite foods (including salmon) that Steff doesn’t like. I could easily do without wine with a meal, while it’s a must for her.

    We have enough differences to make it interesting, despite all the little things we have in common. It’s not all “Omigod, your favourite colour is International Blue #5, too?!?” (not that it is, but I’m just sayin’.)

    And bacon cures all ills, starshine. πŸ˜‰

  3. scribe called steff

    RICHARD — oh, my god, you never got my email thanking you?! I sent it to the account I saw on the e-Bay payment. I know you sent an email to my steff.thesexpert address, too, but I figured you just hadn’t checked your email yet. πŸ™

    Yes, I got it, I appreciated it, and I asked you if you had any topics you wanted addressed in appreciation of the gift. πŸ™‚ Got any?

    BOYFRIEND — Pfft. Yeah, yeah, yeah. πŸ˜›

    I don’t consider wine a MUST with a meal… I consider it something I really enjoy sharing with a guy I dig when it’s GOOD food. If I made you a burger tomorrow, I’d be fine with just juice or something. But when I pay $40 or more for ingredients, fucking RIGHT there’s wine involved! Just stop me ANY TIME YOU WANT. πŸ˜‰

    Is your favourite colour International Yellow #6? OHMIGOD!

    Smart ass. πŸ™‚ Bacon’s fryin’ but I need to go dote. You know how I am. See you tonight.

  4. Anonymous

    Steff: If I had got something from you,I wouldn’t be asking, anyway your very welcome.I enjoy your writing, and just now,. I read post from boyfriend, and than your reply????????????If you both liked exactly the same things!!!! it wouldn’t be very interesting,would it? He He I just will waiti each day to see how it unfolds. don’t stop, as she says at times……….regards richard P.S. I like anything to read you have in your wonderful mind!!!!!!!!!!.

  5. PS

    Wine may not be a must for any meal, but alcohol is. Burger? Beer! (Lovely, quality beer brewed by Trappists.) And hey, don’t forget about chapagne. As m’wizened mother always says, “Champagne goes with everything” – I’ll let you know how true that is. I’ve got to try out this champagne for a major tasting I’m having and my only night is tonight which is the requisite burger night. Roll with the punches, matey, juke and jive.

    Most guys dont roll with self-sustained analytical chicks? Honestly, how do the exist without someone else to wax and wane all existential-like?

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