It seems it's time for me to come clean about the fact that Arlo Pumpernickel and I have smooched a few times. And I've gone out with him for evenings that involved dinner, holding hands over the table, stealing kisses when we had the chance, etc. Excursions that could safely be called DATES, in other words.
As I've said from day one, I more or less immediately took to dear Arlo. I think it'd be hard for anyone not to--including another woman at the same party where I met him, who walked up in front of me to ask for his phone number. He is funny and jovial and incredibly sweet; the kind of dude--all too rare, it seems, at least here in NYC--who makes you feel very safe in his company, and wants to be helpful and protective.
Despite how wonderful he is, and how easy it was to hang out with him, I suppose I had some reservations from very early on, too. Maybe it's because we're both creative types who aren't quite struggling but are kind of squeaking by--and that's a dynamic that hasn't worked so well for me in the past. (Then again, what dynamic HAS?) There were also some subtle differences in our worldviews, which are hard to articulate, but maybe come down to the fact that he's more happy-go-lucky and freewheeling, while I'm more of a workaholic. (A lot of good THAT does me: I'm worried I'm never going to sell my first novel. But more on that some other time.)
Perhaps what made me hesitate most regarding Arlo was, strangely enough, a lack of sexual chemistry--which is weird, because I did feel a sort of general chemistry with him. I wanted to hug him and hold him, but I just wasn't all that interested in the schtupping. Why is that? I really don't have any good explanation. Phermones? The fact that he mentioned he snores, which made me too scared to sleep over? I don't know. WTF?
I mentioned my trepidation to my shrink the other day. "You know, it's kind of easier for me to have sex with guys who aren't as nice," I mused. "I guess I don't mind putting myself into a situation where I know I might get hurt--or, rather, where I'm positive I'm going to get hurt. But if I think I have any potential to hurt another person, then I'm a lot more careful about getting involved."
Which might be true, and certainly isn't false. But ... I don't know. It doesn't seem to quite be a thorough explanation.
Regardless, I didn't want to write Arlo off so easily. It had been a very long while since I'd felt this comfortable around a new person, after all.
"Be open to it!" my dear friend Daisy Milliner exhorted me. "Be brave, stick with it, don't break it off prematurely!"
* * *
Lovelies, this is where I am going to leave you for today. Tune back in on Monday for more of the story. In the meantime, have a wonderful weekend. I'll be attempting to put the final polish on my novel, before re-submitting it, as soon as I can, to my kick-ass agent. Beyond that, I don't have many juicy plans.
ps: i found what seems to be a very loving home for the kitten! whom I named Gypsy. maybe i will come back later today and tell you more about Gypsy's story. ... of course, i cried last night when i got home from having a drink with an editor friend (code name: Violet Alexandra) and the sweet little kitten wasn't here to greet me. i'm a little overly emotional at the moment.
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