So for the most part I’ve tried maintain this blog without delving too much into my personal life. But, today shall be different.
I’ve been exclusively seeing the same guy out in California for several months now. His name is Craig. Though he is often referred to as Eric or neighbor boy when he’s not around. Neither of which make him very happy, I’m sure. So, two weekends ago we flew down to L.A. together for his brother’s birthday weekend. Which was a great test of the limits of our relationship for several reasons.
1. The 4 hours of being stuck a car while trying to travel only 12 miles. Getting lost, not being able to figure out how the open the gas tank of the car we’d borrowed, and there was no booze there!
2. Our sleeping arrangements for later that evening were limited to sharing Nicole and Justin’s couch. COZY…
3. All the while, this would be the longest consistent/uninterrupted amount of time we’d ever spent together.
Fortunately, we still like each other.
However, while we were gone Craig’s roommate began re-caulking the shower in his apartment. Which meant he would be staying with me for the next few days until they were able to use the shower again. This was fine by me. Due to my only child syndrome, I don’t really need too much alone time. I had plenty of it growing up. That is if you don’t count all my imaginary friends and the conversations I had with myself. I’ll probably need some sort of therapy.
Later that night he comes over with some of the necessary things he needs to stay at my place. A change of clothes, toothbrush, deodorant, and his perfect push-ups… you know, the necessities. The week goes by without any real complaints, just the usual from him. “Your pillows are too soft” and “Tap water, if I start growing a tail…” By the weekend he’s gotten pretty anxious and misses his bed. So after his friend Alex’s birthday party at Fireside we decide we’ll stay at his place for the night.
Now internet, I propose my question… when is close, too close?
Regularly, I’m requested to smell random articles of his clothing to determine whether or not they are dirty. In his defense his nasal passages are borderline obsolete, the guy can’t smell anything. And, this doesn’t really bother me. I mean, I’m going to have to be the one walking around with him if he smells like a moldy gym sock. But Sunday morning as we were getting ready to get some brunch, I pull out my emergency deodorant from my purse so that I can feel a little clean… He looks over at me and asks, “Would it be weird if I asked to use that?” Remember, he’s left his at my place. So, I ponder this for a second. Hmm, I do let this person stick his tongue in my mouth, and Lord knows where that’s been…
“Yeah, I guess that’s not so weird… and before you even ask it doesn’t smell girly”, as I pass it over to him.
While he begins applying after attempting to smell it, he asks, “Is this the one that’s strong enough for a man, but Ph balanced for a woman?”
“No, Craig… No.”
After he returns the tube to me, I notice a long blonde hair is now attached. Mmm, awesome. He seems to think this is funny. Though, oddly enough this doesn’t really bother me.
Is that weird?
*Update: This morning I watched an extremely hung over (read: lazy) boyfriend blow previously stated semi-useless nose in a bath towel. He’s still cute… just not as cute.