Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Reversing Jinxes

I decided, after much contemplation and not wanting to go to that giggly ridiculous girl place where I LOSE MY DAMN MIND, that my superstitious beliefs cause more problems than good. So screw it. Caution to the wind. Let's talk about that thing I wasn't talking about on Saturday.



I met a guy. And if I had written of list of all the things I want in a guy (wait, I have such lists. If I had published such lists then), he fits a vast majority of it. I knew almost immediately I was screwed. I mean that in the sense that the me that likes to be in charge and have control over her situation and not let her emotions get away from her (the galvanized heart, as my dad calls it), was in serious trouble. Again: I knew this almost immediately. And how, prey tell did I know?

So, remember back when we're at North Star and Cheryl and I make our way back to the main bar? Cheryl sits down. There is nowhere for me to sit, which is fine, I've been sitting what seems like all afternoon. So Cheryl sort of has her back to the bar, and I'm facing her. Guy walks up to my left. He has a half cocked, half off his head incredibly ugly looking UConn hat on. So I lean into Cheryl and make some comment about said guy in UConn hat. I realize that guy on the right of me has heard what I am saying. I lean over and apologize for being rude about complete strangers. And guy sitting down is all, "No, it's totally cool. He is a douche." And is basically all, "What else you got?"

He then stands up and offers me his seat. I tell him I'm fine, but appreciate the gesture. But when he stands up he's super tall. Like 6'6" easy, and probably taller than that but I'm in flats, and have been drinking since...earlier, so my judgement of height is off. This is hysterical because last time I was out with Cheryl I said, "Do not let me go home with anyone! Unless they're...6'3" or taller!" To which Chuck laughed and said, "There's no one here even that tall!" And he was right, that night there wasn't. But I figured I had to have a baseline. And I like big, tall guys. Which this guy is. I'm certain somewhere in here I've described my ideal type as lineman build. I am not, and never will be, some teeny tiny wilting flower of a girl. So I like a big guy to make me feel like I might be the tiniest bit petite.

We then, naturally, end up talking about college football. Do you want to guess what school he is a fan of? Wild guess? MINE. He is a fan of my school! A FOOTBALL FAN! OF MY SCHOOL! I want you to contemplate that for a second. Because in my several years being back in San Francisco I have met exactly zero guys that give as much of a crap as I do about college football. I had given up on finding one and was hoping for just "mildest passing interest". No. This guy says to me, "There's no way you're possibly a bigger LSU fan than I am." Oh that's cute. Really. That's just adorable. First of all: I GRADUATED from there. Secondly: wanna take a look at my tattoo? Yeah. You do.

Sometimes I regret that tattoo. It's a little bigger than I would have liked. It's a team logo for godssake. But then when a guy (and it's happened before) wants to challenge, me, female, on being a fan and I just point to my ankle and shrug my shoulders. I immediately get a high five.

We talk some more. He has a luxury box for the LSU/Oregon game happening in September in Dallas. Because he used to live in Dallas (which is actually a negative, but I'm willing to overlook).

He works in something amorphous and finance-y but what he really does is contracts law. Um, hi, have you read the post where I declare my love for contracts? Fairly certain I did a little happy dance at that point. Cuz I'm a nerd.

He didn't go to LSU, as he trivia'd me on: School that went to the Final Four the last two years. I failed because basketball is not at all my sport. And beer. I immediately went "Ewww. Duke?" then guessed North Carolina before I was informed he meant Butler. "Ohhh! The Bulldogs! With the adorable head coach!"

At this point I knew I liked this guy. Like, like like. Like I'd pass him a note in homeroom and have him check yes or no kinda like. If people did that in places other than John Hughes movies. (Btw: I feel totally okay about using all those likes. I'm from Northern California, I'll own it.)

I also learned that he was from Chicago. I have mentioned previously that I also adore guys from that fine midwestern town (it's buried in there. Just ctrl F. Or trust me). Guh. Seriously? Did someone read my blog, aggregate all my likes and put a guy in front of me? That is equally as sarcastic and snarky as me? Am I being punked? I feel like I'm being punked. (I talked to Cheryl today who said it was sort of freaking her out how much we had in common.)

So now I'm trying not to sabotage it and being thrown back all the advice I've been giving recently on relationships (just enjoy whatever it is and don't get too far ahead of yourself, just relax and be yourself, etc, etc) and trying not to freak out. Which is a lot harder than it sounds. (The ancient "How to be your most amazing and wonderful and you self without over-thinking it" problem.)

I also may have given him the cold from hell I was suffering from the past two weeks. I mean, I take no actual responsibility for this, there is a lack of causality (gotta put that law degree to some use). But I spent enough time in Catholic school that I feel guilty. And I happen to have a batch of homemade chicken soup on hand (no, seriously, this is just happenstance). I know he's busy with work this week, and cranky because he's male and has a cold, so I was going to drop off soup at his front desk (fancy corporate hotel place...he's up here on business 'til July and actually lives in SoCal. I'm currently ignoring this wrinkle). I just can't decide if this is THE most adorable, thoughtful thing ever or completely insane/makes me look psycho. Which I feel like I'm walking a fine line with. Which is what makes being a girl super ridiculously hard. I got four votes to one on this being a good idea. But, ya know, it's a lot easier to encourage someone when it's not you on the line.

So: met a guy who I like like like. I'm in trouble.

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