Current emotion: Twitterpated

I went on my second date with the photographer, whom I will refer to as P. Our date was in Cleveland – dinner and a movie at his place. P is a huge fan of October and Halloween, so we watched Casper. I had not seen that movie in years, so it was fun. We had Asian take-out while we watched. 

P’s birthday is this next week, so I made him cookies. The thing is, I followed the recipe – thanks Alton Brown! – and wound up with a ton of cookies. I asked my friend if presenting, you know, a little under three dozen cookies to a guy on a second date would be creepy. I was told that it would not be and that, even if it was, I shouldn’t be ashamed because I was just being myself. Point taken, but I still felt self-conscious. 

I explained the situation to P as he took the ribbon off the box. He encouraged me to be confident about the gift I’m giving, right as I told him he was free to throw the gift out after I left if he didn’t like it. He really liked the cookies and ate some right there (the photo above was a work in progress – the skulls and cats were later decorated after the royal icing dried more fully). I pointed out that the box had a little slip of paper on the front that read “poison” that I put there. 

Reviewing the scene in my memory, I’m like, “Shut up, goddammit! Quit trying to ruin everything with your explanations and excuses!” *sigh* 

I’m just glad that he seemed to like the gift. His cat liked the package’s ribbon, but is still not quite sure about me. 

In any case, we had a good evening. 

As he walked me to my car, he mentioned an article he recently read about how women are afraid their dates will be serial killers, whereas men are afraid that their dates will be fat. That’s true, I said. He pointed out how they didn’t have to be serial killers, just killers. 

“Hmmm… So I guess I need to watch my back,” I said, walking in front of him down the narrow sidewalk. 

“You’re not doing a very good job of it,” he said. 

“True. I guess I just expect you to push me into oncoming traffic or something.”

“Nah. I like you and I still find you interesting,” he said. 

“Is that right?” I replied as we embraced by my car. 

“Yep. But once that’s no longer the case…” he then made a cutting motion across his throat and smiled. 

“Those cookies *do* have poison in them!” I said. 

“They taste good so far!” he said. “Drive safe!” 

My mom had some questions about P. I will answer them here as well. I will not give her his last name because I do not want her to stalk him as she is wont to do. 

  • What is his place like? He is a dude. It is an apartment fit for a guy. 
  • What does he look like? He is taller than me. He shaves his head. 
  • What color are his eyes? Blue. 
  • Does he have good teeth? Yes. 
  • Does he have siblings? Yes. 
  • What about parents? Yes. 

As I mentioned at the top of this post, I am twitterpated… but I am doing my best to be mindful of how these are feelings “for now” and to pump the brakes when I start to get ahead of myself. 

It just feels nice to like someone and be attracted to them… and know that odds are good that they feel the same. 😊

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