Life Is Good (Did I Say That Out Loud?)

On a good day, like, when i actually believe in the sanctity of life, i really appreciate "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield.

Today is
Where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

'Cause sometimes when i watch a drama, i think, wouldn't it suck if someone was writing the script of your life, and laughing?

One can only hope at least it'd make a gripping saga.

It was one of those weekends when i didn't come home till Sunday afternoon.

Matt asked me out on Friday. Enough to turn me giddy all day. Like a schoolgirl. The old, "Oh, the movie is playing 'round my house, why don't you stop by first?"

But i'm all for that. I'm thrilled to check out his place. And it's easier to drink to your heart's content in privacy. And if you're lucky, you get a make out session.

So i had my first martini, dirty, with Matt cracking, "What, you've never done it dirty?"

It was enthralling to see him behind the bar, given that he used to bartend.

At one point i had the tremors (ha, ha) and spilled martini on my sleeve. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes," Matt said, grinning. It took me a second to realize he was being cute. And cute he was. : )

He proudly showed me around the house, which was just adorable.

The lines at the theater were loooong. I was glad when he suggested to have drinks instead.

We headed over to BJ's. The place was hopping. And very warm. I had to take off my sweater, revealing my skimpy top with a very, very low V.

It was no mistake. I had decided that, if he didn't respond to that, it was not worth a shot.

"You look great tonight!" Exclaimed Matt, staring at my breasts. And he didn't take his eyes off those babies for 30 seconds, all the while trying to carry on a conversation.

Most women would whine, "I'm up here!" But i wanted him to notice me and like me for more than my brain, damn it.

(A little feminist joke. Relax!)

So i'm glad the drastic measure worked. At least now i know where i stand. Sorta.

As soon as i was done with my drink, he ordered me another one.

"You trying to get me drunk?" I asked, laughing.

"Of course!" Matt grinned.

So we headed back to his place and attempted to watch a movie on DVD, but he couldn't get the video to work. We wound up shooting pool.

I'm sure he enjoyed peeking down my shirt every time i leaned over to make a shot.

Matt is impressed by the oddest things about me. Like when i grilled him for not hugging his black lab, Gunther*, and i asked if he was "emotionally constipated". He thought it was like the cleverest thing. And when he noticed i was wearing Uggs.

What he didn't know was that i tried to curb my horniness by hugging Gunther all night. "Give mama some sugar!" I was hollering inside.

So of course at the end of the night i was too trashed to drive. He invited me to stay till i sobered up.

And it was an unspoken agreement that, out of the six rooms in the house, i would crash in his bed.

We just cuddled, and watched Jay Leno. As if we were an old couple. It was surreal.

And the goodnight kiss was brief, but with tougue. Strange.

I woke up at 4:05 a.m., which really was five to four, cos his clock was ahead. I took off.

The road home was like Lost Highway by David Lynch.

Sat morning i realized i'd left my earrings on his nightstand. Damn it. Knowing him, i won't hear from him for days, if not weeks.

Those are my work earrings, too. But then i calmed down. Must've been a subconscious effort to have an excuse to see him again.

The weather was just gorgeous for the entire weekend. Turned out Denisse also scored a date. Sat afternoon.

"Hw was your date?" i texted her.

"Let's exchange information later," she texted back. I laughed so hard.

So of course we had to party a little. Denisse sported this very sexy red lacy number. I was like, Whoa! I guess a little sexual tension never hurt anyone, ay? Indeed it is motivation to strive.

Then on Sunday we went down to the Artisan District on Fourth Street in Berkeley. What a beautiful day to be outdoor and just soak up the sun! I did my confident stride in my boots, when i should've been in flip flops. I actually enjoyed the leisure even though i couldn't afford to buy anything.

Come Sunday evening. Neurosis kicks in a little and i keep recalling Matt's soft lips and moist tongue and wondering, "What does it all mean?"

But thank God there's been enough therapy to keep me grounded. Yeah, that's right. Therapy, and a couple of Stoli Razberi with tonic, baby!


*Names changed to protect individuals' identity