The way I am writing this seems like all I do is date, and that is not true. I had been going to the temple a lot the last few weeks, because that Saturday I was teaching a class on "Getting more out of your temple experience." I was also seeing other friends, getting my car worked on, planning events for work--it wasn't all going on in vacuum.
To my complete annoyance, my check-engine light had gone on that morning on the way to Women's day. I was extra annoyed because a little over a week before, I had shelled out too much money for repairs on my lovely Mint Julep. And it had been making this really loud noise from the front passenger side when you went faster than 50 mph, and now the light was on.
Frustrated and annoyed (because I was supposed to be having fun, happy times later that afternoon), and probably hangry because I hadn't grabbed anything to eat before rushing off to teach/help Vanna B's presentation on Design Within Reach, I made my way to the dealer.
We were supposed to meet at 2 for the Apex Jazz Festival. I had tickets and everything. It was 1:30, and I was still at the dealer after getting there at 12. I text N, apologizing profusely and asking if he's okay just coming to the house.
Of course he is because he's awesome. I, on the other hand, am a panicked freak, as my car breaking down is one of my pressure cooker buttons. The $1000 price tag also makes a girl indentured to four hospitals take a deep breath and want to cry. A lot.
We decide to wait and see what my warranty covers, and I head home, trying not to cry too much before N shows up at my door. A long hug on my doorstep actually reduces my need for tears immensely, and I can breathe a little more.
We decide to skip the Jazz Festival this year, but as we had made plans for him to meet my sis, we headed toward Raleigh. It felt weird that I knew all of his family but his sister (and in-laws)--and I felt a little like I did know his sister because my seminary kids the last year were Science and Mathers and she, too was a SMather--but he knew none of mine.
Plus, Ice cream would make me feel better--and Goodberry's is next to B's place. It's amazing what a shared concrete in a booth snuggling and laughing together will do for a bad day. Almost completely erase it. As I write this, I could feel all the same anxiety I felt building and building and building, and then the minute N arrived, deflating and disappearing on the wind. It's amazing to me that he can do that--it has to be some kind of superpower.
Anyway, a few blocks away, a kiss for luck, and we make our way toward's B's stoop, just as she comes around the corner. He squeezes my hand, as I think he can tell I'm a little nervous.
B's S is an introvert (yeah, yeah, dude, get in line), and less talkative than B, normally. N is very quiet, too, though if he needs to he can pull it out. I don't love being "on" all the time, and B is usually the outgoing charismatic one.
B was completely silenced by the sight of me holding hands with someone. She couldn't stop staring. S and I made conversation. N joined in, but stayed pretty quiet. And I watched my sister stare and stare and stare.
Now I will fully admit that at the height of my dating days, I was in Utah, and she was in IL, so she hasn't really seen this, but still. She could. not. stop. staring.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" I asked, pulling my hand away for a second.
Her eyes finally actually look at me, confused, "No? What? No."
S was a dream (proving his #dreamboat nickname apt), and kept the conversation going. N was taking in B's Architectural Digest-worthy home, and eating up all the color and patterns (it's one of those things he does every where we go--it reminds me of B, actually).
All-in-all, it was a nice visit, and I think was enjoyed by all parties.
Next we were off to dinner and dancing.
Cuddling together on the same side of the booth has become our thing. And it as it was us and another couple, I'm sure the wait staff were thrilled.
I introduced him to Crab Rangoon, and we got the second of our odd fortunes. Again, I'm the one on the bottom.
And finally off to a Dance in Durham. We when arrived, they were teaching some dance, and I was not about to go for that. I've learned to dance thanks, we're all over 30, you do not have to teach us how to dance.
We snuck into the primary room and danced to songs from my phone for a little bit. Then we made it to the game room for dominoes until he finally played actual music. The dance was supposed to start at 8. We did not hear music until 9:30.
It was kind of awful--the DJ kept wanting to teach line dances (it is especially annoying when the 10 minute song has what you are supposed to do in it--no one should ever teach the cupid shuffle or the cha-cha slide--dumber than a box of rocks).
But it was fun to introduce N to Al and NC.
It was especially funny when my lovely friend NC stepped up and grabbed me for the first slow song. I flashed an apologetic smile, and danced away.
"Wait," NC said, "Is that your boyfriend?"
"Yes," I laughed.
"I can give you back," he replied.
"No. He's gotta speak up faster. Plus, it's good for him to have a little competition," I grinned.
As I had watched him dance with girl after girl at the last dance, I was pretty sure it was okay to let him watch me dance with someone else. Though it was also fun later when the ladies in my stake started complimenting our dancing together.
Despite the questionable DJ, we danced the night away, because we can almost always dance together. And we then made it back to our little lakeside for a slow dance or two. . . and then home again, home again, jiggety jig. Yeah, I was (and am) pretty sure I could get used to dancing with him a lot more.