Okay, so yesterday afternoon was occupied mostly with a slightly nervewracking, "just in case" medical drama (not my own).
Then it started snowing.
It's so pretty outside. Inches of snow on the ground. We haven't really tried to go out in it. We started to last night, but then pulling off our street we saw an accident happen and turned around and went home. I walked to the store today...
Last night I broke into the Tequila. Writer Guy donated a bunch of liquor to my house and I'm the only one who drinks tequila here. I had 7 1/2 shots. Then we rearranged the living room. Before my living room looked basically like people brought furniture in and pushed it against the wall. And like people brought a giant television in and set it in the doorway. Now it looks like a real living room. It's hard to explain, but the focus isn't on the door anymore and the whole place is much more... um,... well, it's got a better flow to it. Really we just moved everything one wall to the left.
I made a little drunken dial to Writer Guy to thank him for the tequila (and to say things like "I really hope you made it home safely, because there's snow out there and I'm not saying you're a bad driver in the snow, I wouldn't know that, but I saw a wreck happen and those people aren't good drivers"). I ended the message saying something about "touching base with" him.
Emma: "Touch Base"? That's a phrase business people use with eachother.
mary: Oh.
Emma: "Touch Base"? mary ann, you call someone you work with during the day and "touch base" before the meeting. You don't tell the boy you like you wanted to "touch base" with him.
mary: Oh. Yeah. I guess you're right. I was just trying to... sound casual?
Emma: "Touch Base"?
mary: Well, you know, like he left me alone in his apartment this morning and I still have his keys. And he hasn't called to get them back. He might leave his keys with me overnight.
Emma: Okay. So, he doesn't know you lose stuff?
mary: I guess not, but isn't that strange anyway? How much can I reasonably try to infer from that? I don't even know him well enough to know how to take something like blind trust from him. Even just a little blind trust. You know?
Emma: You could talk to him. When you "touch base". God. Ever since you watched that baseball game with RandomGuy...
mary: Look, I got some that night and I learned about baseball... It was very productive. And I'm sure I'd used one or two other sports metaphors *before* that. I don't want to talk to him about it. I can't approach that conversation unless I know how my half would go.
Emma: What do you mean?
mary: Exactly. I don't know what I mean. I don't know what the right response would be.
Emma: But you're asking him.
mary: But there's no right answer and any answer I get is going to cause me anxiety.
Emma: As opposed to "how much can I reasonably read into this"?
mary: That's more "fun speculation" and does not require me to actually react in any way.
Yeah, so that's where that stands. I have no idea what the status is and I don't want to ask because if I start the conversation I ought to be able to contribute more than "um. yeah. so. I don't know either.". Except that he left his keys with me overnight (two nights, but I am blaming the snow) and that seems like the sort of behavior that's like *asking* for some sort of definition... Like I want to be like "Why? I told you to just wake me up when you got up and I'd just leave then". The asnwer might be as simple as "I'd rather trust you with my keys than try to get your ass out of bed."... Let's hope. I don't want to think he's more decisive about this than I am...
Tonight Kristie and I decorated the house. We put Christmas lights all over the porch. It's very pretty. Very very pretty. Writer Guy called during the decorating process and I rushed off the phone (because I was outside hanging lights...) and then called him back, but I was trying to hang lights and talk and I don't think I made any sense, but we have plans for Friday. I think.
