He hesitated to say it, than said, “Happy. You look happy.”
And I am. Thank you. I’m not the girl who throws pizzas through walls (though, I assure you, it’s a lot less impressive than it sounds). That girl was created by an entirely unhappy situation she was trying to force into a functioning whole. (See the pun?) I’m moving on; we both have a lot more growing up to do. That chapter is not closed, but altered. The ending is of friendship and love: About two people that spent some time growing together happily and growing apart painfully together, while understanding that life goes on and no one person is to blame. He is learning now everything I suggested when we were together, and I am learning you can't tell a person something, they just have to make mistakes and learn on their own. That’s life. And it goes on.
Speaking of going on (hi, obvious segue), I went on what I’m assuming was a “date” the other Friday night. At 10pm. In a Hyundai. This is the “date” I drunkenly agreed to go on, but had no recollection of saying; just a business card that fell out of my bra in the morning. Anyway, I think I almost died in the car ride to Georgetown, not so much from the specific driving itself, but from the mini-panic-attack his driving induced. That was slightly embarrassing. But, my God, if I’m not the only decent driver in the DMV!
The conversation was decent; realizing were both the youngest of 3 siblings of the same sex – of the same age (odd coincidence), then devolving into movie trivia (yesss!). I confused Boondock Saints with Sleepers…don’t judge me - I had 2 cosmos, 3 vodka tonics and no dinner. After drinks, he dropped me off and used my restroom (leaving the toilet seat up) and we watched Roseanne (sexy!) till 4am. That was it. A few problems though: 1. The toilet seat, 2. The Hyundai (I judge those, Kias and Daewoo’s), 3. Not walking to my
Now, who wants to go out on a date and take me for hibachi?! I’ve had a huge craving for like a week and I can’t afford it on my own and, well, let’s be honest, you can’t go to a hibachi place by yourself. That would be the sad story of the week: Attractive, Witty Female Sits Alone to Watch One Man Cooking Show at Table for Ten. Story at 11…