I would like to share this bottle of chocolate raspberry wine I bought at Food Lion. I would like to sit on a front porch with a boy and pretend we can't taste the medicinal bite of alcohol under the chocolate aftertaste as we watch Friday night cars glide through the navy velvet night punctuated by orange streetlamps and feel a cool storm-bringing breeze stir our skin and hair until we're too cold and we go inside and lie next to each other on a bed until we slip into sleep.
Maybe if the Librarian's sinus surgery isn't next weekend and maybe if my roommate goes home next weekend, that could actually happen.
He road tripped to Pennsylvania this weekend--something planned months ago--and has sent me a couple sort of postcards in text message form.
April 14, 8:47pm: Started Steven Seagal's Out For Justice with VA pals, wish you were here to hate/love this with us. :)No way in hell was I ever going with him (he did ask, in a half-assed "You're probably going to say no" sort of toss-off remark), but that does sound kind of fun.
He got into Philly, telling me that and the following as I wandered grocery store aisles, done with my shopping but still enjoying that narcotic soothing rhythm of strolling through shelves of neatly packed things:
April 15, 5:50pm: Name-dropped "Melanie" a few times related to cool things, always with reference to "Melanie likes that too!"Um. I guess I would be more creeped out if I hadn't name-dropped him in a phone conversation with my mother about him an hour later. But she needs to know. Maybe. Probably. More than his friends in Virginia need to know, anyway. At least out of sheer proximity.
Including to a waitress who tried to talk me OUT of ordering pasta that had mushrooms on it (it was delicious, thankyouverymuch).
My parents have been surprisingly nonchalant about this whole me dating thing, considering how little practice we've all had dealing with it and how very much of an only child I am.
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