A long, long time ago, JV (there are naked ladies all over the place there) asked me to enact a Date My Friend project for him. At the time, I think I said I would. And then I didn't. He was still reeling from Lauren (that link has naked ladies), and I was lazy.
(His first name, as his page suggests, is Jordan. I call him by his middle name which starts with a V. And that's why he's JV here and "Jordan" over there)
Then he got his own webspace, and I told him to be his own project. I think he got distracted or something because he hasn't done it either. But he did remind me tonight that a long, long time ago, I promised that I would write an entry all about how great he is.
Let the lovefest begin...
Recently, I found myself feeling very lonely way out here in Arizona with no friends. I was having a bad day. I wanted to go eat dessert for dinner somewhere and then have a drink and then play Mr Bones (it's an arcade game). Or maybe I wanted fried foods and a drink and pool or darts. Or maybe I wanted pizza and a night in the living room, drinking wine and playing cards.
What do all of those things have in common? They are the things JV would drag me out to do with him if I'd had a bad day. What I really wanted was to go have fun with my favorite playmate.
He's a really good friend. He'd bring me dinner at work and go outside and smoke a cigarette with me. I hear tell that he's really a non smoker, but he'd never make me smoke alone. One particularly bad night, he even came to work and pitched in at helping the office move for karma (and possibly free drinks that I would have purchased anyway).
He took my little sister to the mall to buy eyeshadow when she was visiting, because I hate the mall. Let me repeat that... He took my sixteen year-old sister make-up shopping at the mall. Emma went along and reported that he took his duty as surrogate big sister very seriously. He'd paid attention to all the make-up buying tips I'd given him and did his best to inflict them on Nikki.
One night I called him way after his bedtime (he has an early bedtime). I was on a payphone in the not-so-faux part of the faux ghetto where I lived. I'd locked myself out of the house. He got right up out of bed and drove half an hour to my house to climb on the roof and let me back in. He didn't even take the beer I'd gotten him for his trouble.
One more "he's a good friend" story... one night when we were particularly sad about boys, he sat up all night long with me and Em and read James and the Giant Peach outloud cover to cover. He had to babysit his nieces the next day, and he still stayed until the sun came up and we were a little better. He actually went home and got pajamas for our little slumber party. I fell asleep first and he didn't cover me in toothpaste or put my bra in the freezer or anything. Instead he woke me up "I know this isn't the face you were hoping to see, but..."
Okay, I think we've covered "really, really sweet". What's next?
He lets me call him Princess. In front of people he doesn't even know yet. When they say "Did she just call you Princess?", he just replies "Yeah, it's a nickname. I'm pretty."
He is very pretty. You should know that too. Professionals sometimes take his picture. (I'm trying not to use the word "model", but I guess sometimes that's what he is. "Princess" is okay, "model" is not. There's a masters thesis in there somewhere.)
All of this and I'm trying to sell him as a straight boy? I promise you, he's straight. His head turns for about ninety percent of the women in the world. And I've been to the porn store with him. He's most certainly attracted to girls. He just also happens to like and respect them. It's a rare combination.
He does have some "masculine" qualities. Boy adores sports. Loves them all. Maybe not baseball so much, but he LOVES the rest of them. And lesbian porn. He loves that too. And for a few months once he had a male friend, and that brought out the obnoxious boy in him sometimes too. Oh yeah, and once upon a time, last winter, he kept talking about going hunting. He was going to try to kill a wild boar. That's masculine.
He's sporty. I got him golf stuff for his last birthday. He started college on an athletic scholarship (soccer) and he does some sort of basketball playing during his breaks at work. I'm pretty sure he went frisbee golfing with me one time. (I am not sporty and cannot elaborate on this topic)
Yeah and he's smart. He reads. A lot. He was once an English major. He'll probably write a poem about you if your paths ever cross. Plus he's carrying around a lot of general knowledge. One time, he basically recited a term paper on the weather patters of the Atlantic Ocean to our waitress. He's so pretty that she was flattered by the time he was finished explaining about the water in her necklace.
He's very sociable. You can't take him anywhere without making twenty-five new friends. Children, old men in bars, girls, guys, just whoever is nearby. He'll happily make friends with them. Even if you're in a scary bar, he'll be giving his number to some quiet man in a cowboy hat by the time the night is over.
Oh and he's funny. You should know that too. He does accents. And he's very witty. He tells a great story. No one has ever made the tale of his first tick bite more hilarious.
He adores animals. Maybe not my cat so much, but my cat tried to eat him one too many times. He likes other cats though. And dogs. He's the first person his coworkers call when they need a sitter for their obscenely fat puppy. He likes all the woodland creatures too. Even lizards. He takes the neighborhood children out in the woods by the creek and teaches them about animals and nature. He's even pre-vet in school.
He's also very well travelled. He's lived in several countries. He speaks at least a little bit of many languages and quite a bit of three (English, French and German).
And he'll always go on an adventure with you. Even if your idea of an adventure is a nausea inducing drive to Rabbit Hash Kentucky.
And he has lots and lots of energy. Until eleven fifteen pm. Then he just turns off all at once.
Oh yeah, and everytime I've ever gone out with him except once, he volunteered to be the designated driver. He loves beer, but not that much. One time he let me get him really drunk though. He's fun when he's really drunk. He's fun all the time when he's sober too.
He's Canadian, so you know I approve of his politics. And I've heard him say that he goes to church, but he holds those cards close to his chest.
Oh yeah, and one more thing. He's very artistic, but not flagrantly so. He plays many instruments (and he teaches them as well). And I understand that he can sing, but for some reason I don't think I've ever seen him karaoke or anything. I've heard him sing along with Johnny Cash in the car, I think. Possibly I was drunk when those things happened. And also, he works in graphic design. He sings, plays instruments, writes, and he's making a living in graphic design... that's arty.
And I think with that one, I'm out of good things to tell you about JV. Past this, we're back into stories. I have loads and loads of them.
Oh, and obviously he's fairly modest since you could read his page for eons before you learned all those things about him.
Okay, so we've covered: nice and good and kind and pretty and friendly and smart and funny and straight and masculine and high energy and likes animals and children and loves girls and volunteers to DD... you'll have to find out for yourself if he's a good kisser. I don't know.
I'll tell you some bad things about him... um, my mom didn't like him. He was a little too... excitable when we all went out to dinner.
He can be unreliable. Sometimes he makes plans and then he just... falls asleep, or gets caught up in a sporting game of some sort, or he forgets, or someone else needs cheering up. That's the only bad thing I have to tell you. He might accidentally flake out and stand you up. But he'll probably feel so bad about it, he'll pick up the next bar tab.
That's all I've got on bad things.
How'd I do, Princess? And when do I get my "mary ann is so great" entry?
About One Year Ago: The vicodin stopped writing for me, and then I took a little break while my mom got married.
About Two Years Ago: "Yes, here in Lexington, they've named the trash receptacles. Rosie the recycling bin actually sings and dances on the television. Lennie and Herbie haven't yet, but 'sometimes Herbie can't handle it all'."
