Whooo...

Someone get me an ostrich feather fan... I have a case of the Vapors...

So... Mister Pushypants and I went out with my pal Farah. We had some Tapas, then we went to The Room.. then The Mark, which we left about five seconds after getting there, we dropped Farah off...

And then we went to our cars, parked in the Convention Center Parking Lot...

Where I proceeded to force myself on him. Yes. I have now had another make-out since Labor Day. It was nice to hear him say, "Wow, that is so important..." as he walked to his car, re: kissing.

And you know... this kid is growing on me. There's DEFINITE POTENTIAL here.

I almost regretted not making him come back to my house. Almost. I'm a big proponent of less is more. Don't give la leche away for free.

As much as I miss making out, I'm not going whole hog for a while. At least another two dates. In this day and age, that's as prudish as you can get away with being, without being labled a cocktease.

So weird. At first I wasn't attracted to this kid so much... but the more I drank... and the more I got to know him... the more he seemed like a totally viable possibility.

And he continues to seem like a viable possibility. Now.. we still have the whole "he's not moving here for another month-or-two" thing to contend with... and that, as we have learned, is crucial in the "Superbee likes v. Superbee isn't interested anymore" spectrum...

But he's well connected... and he's decently cute, and he dresses like me... hell... he's almost my bizarro twin...

You heard it here first, folks. I may be on the rebound.

Mixed Signals.

I had a lunch date with a guy today. While I don't want to rip his clothes off, I didn't want to rip Stephen's clothes off either when I first started dating him. This guy is cute enough, he looks a lot like me, actually...

He's got his shit together, he owns a house, a BMW... he's a Jew... We ate at Jimmy Vs on Las Olas. Lunch went well enough, I acquiesced to having plans on South Beach tonight with him, because he didn't want to go to some dinner party with his friends, that would be a bunch of old family friends getting together, and he didn't want to feel like the third wheel.

Fair enough. So, I agreed to have plans with him.

Now, you all know (or I'd assume that you would by now) that I'm not about to rush into ANYTHING. I want to take things nice n' slow and old fashioned-like. I'm still a bit of a wounded bird, and I haven't recovered my MoJo enough to really want to jump in the sack with anyone.

We were ironing out dinner plans via text message, and I got a message that said, "Should I bring an extra outfit?"

Huh?

There's no good way to answer that. Because if I say, "Yeah, totally!' then I have to have some stranger come spend the night at my place, and I'm basically committing to hooking up with this guy, which I'm not sure I want to do quite yet... or even if I did, it's our fucking FIRST DATE.

I'm not that kind of guy.

And... I don't want to have to nair my back or clean my place.

If I say "No," outright, that's just jerky of me and implies, "No, I don't want to screw you." Which, at this point, I don't. I want to have a date. I don't want to have sex. Date does not equal sex. Date, if I'm REALLY drunk, means making out... and maybe a little more beyond that... but by and large... I lept into bed with Stephen on the second date, and while it helps move things along, I was also under the influence of about four drugs when I did that. So... you know. It wasn't me.

We'll see how tonight goes. This guy was scoring major points until that "Should I bring extra clothes?" question.

I tried to get out of it tactfully, saying that I couldn't make it a crazy night, because I have to see my parents at the airport tomorrow. (I do, they're in on a short layover from Barbados.)

But it caused a mini-drama wherein I had to call MM and ask her what to say to him. Because, that's a DIFFICULT question to have to answer...

Jesus. It's one thing to come on strong... to get through my metal rollaway door exterior, it's another thing to invite yourself on a sleepover on part II of a first date...