You're such a GIRL

I'm back, with yet another tale of my ill fated, downward spiral into the hell that is called girlie behavior.

I am no longer the woman I once was. Strong, confident, in control, non breathless...I don't know who I am anymore, for fucks sake. Under normal circumstances, I'd make cruel jokes over women who behave the way I do now. Hell, I'd still do it and lie about my own girlie status just so I can feel superior again. See my secret smug smile.

You do know what I mean about the girlie thing, don't you? It's more than just the minor things, like hair twirling, stupid grins and breathless sighs that I've mentioned in blogs past.

It's like this whole secret society of women I didn't know existed, with shortness of breath. Here's the trouble--I don't do girlie well. On the exterior most would think I was a real girlie-girl. I do the makeup, hair, toes, nails thing all the time. I love to have cute clothes and I'm an EX beauty queen. That says it all for most people. However, there's another half of me who used to own a furniture building business and can identify and properly utilize all power tools, sheet rock, tile a floor, fix your plumbing, change a tire ect

in other words, I pride myself on being far more than just FLUFF. I gleaned many things from my marriage--and being handy and taking care of my own shit is just two of them. That was pretty much ALL I gleaned, but I did learn some useful stuff. So when I was whisked off to the place known as SINGLE, I was all good. I don't need anyone to do most anything for me--except maybe climb a ladder, cuz heights ain't my thang and even then, I can muster up some courage.

I've never, not once twirled my hair--the only thing I twirl is a baton--flaming, mind you...LOL. If I'm short of breath--it's probably because I smoked too much on any given day. I do smile a lot, but that's only because I find everyone far less superior than I and I'm secretly amusing myself of over my manaical genius. I'm kidding...LOLLOL

R and I talk on the phone a lot and we kinda crack wise over this state of euphoria much. I'm not the only one doing the girlie thing, you know. He's doing the male version of it too. In a VERY manly fashion, of course. Snerk and don't let him tell you otherwise. Cuz he'd be telling you falsehoods :)

We behave like buffoons over each other. It's nothing short of ludicrous and falls just shy of depraved.

I can't ever remember talking to almost anyone on the phone for five hours--yet, R and I do that a lot. Like almost everyday--unless we're with each other and then, we always have a body part in hand to hand combat. Doesn't matter where we are, we're holding hands, doing the secret smile, cooing at each other thing. See me roll my eyes. He eats his dinner on the phone with me, after we've talked his entire commute home and well into him folding his laundry-smack dab up until bed time. I think I've kissed him more in two weeks than I kissed my ex in my entire marriage. I was married for 19 years, you know...

That's another problem--the GOODNIGHT KISS. We do that looooong, baby. All sitting out in my driveway, with our tongues down each other's throats. We really should begin the goodbye thing the moment we first hook up--we'd probably get more sleep and it would eliminate having to be with other people--which is fine--we just mostly don't see them--or we lend them half an ear and whatever they're saying, sounds like the adults in a Charlie Brown cartoon because we're just waiting for the moment we can be alone and paw each other. Happens when we say goodbye on the phone too. That long, drawn out, buuhhhyyyyeeeee, honey/bunny. OY.

I remember the big stink over that guy who wrote a book called, "He's just not that into you" and thinking, well, how into someone do you have to be? I think I've found the answer. I think I can safely say we're waaaaaay into each other and we have all of that dating lingo going on. I feel him, he feels me, we have chemistry, biology, fricken' geometry and a host of other classes from high school that now escape me.

Um, bleh...

See, now I just typed that word and I'm smiling because I don't really feel bleh, but I do, ya know? Nah, me either. I have NO CLUE WTF. I genuinely am a smidge lost and it's freaking me out. It's freaking him out too ( I just know it, muwhahahaha), but we can't seem to help it.

I know I said I was just going to let it happen--go with it--ride the wave, but the higher the wave, the longer the ride, the lamer we get. LMAO

We're in the honeymoon phase, yes? Won't be long now before we have call each other names, take each other for granted, fight over his crappy eating habits and my smoking, in general, rub each other the wrong way.

Good, because then I can get some SLEEP. That sort of stuff I'm used to--comfortable with--well adjusted to. LOLLOL

How long does this phase last? I kinda need to know because Chap Stick wants an answer on the bulk order I've placed with them. They need to know how many units I want. LOLLOLLOLLOL and a big, honkin', girlie sigh.

Dakota :)