Last night I went for a long needed night out with the girls. It was a Friday, and we haven't been getting together to play tennis, and we needed an excuse to go out.
I had a few drinks, and my tongue became a little loose, but I didn't let the secret out. It was right there, ready to fly out, but I kept it in his cage. That was the agreement that I had with P, and I kept my promise. But, God how I wish that I could tell someone (besides the priest). Maybe one day, I will spill my guts to my friends, and let the chips fall. That should be an interesting conversation--to say the least. They will either console me, or will be shocked beyond belief.
Getting back to last night, I had a great time. We went to a nice local Italian restaurant. The atmosphere was perfect. There was no Roberta, no young guys hanging out at the bar, and no T with a date to muddle my mind. It was just me, Chloe and Theresa--eating food, drinking wine and laughing. All this, and I was hangover free this morning. Thank God for small miracles.
I missed the laughing. There has not been enough to laugh about lately, but I am not going to dwell on it, as promised. I am keeping myself busy, preparing for Thanksgiving. I've been watching the Food network lately, which is always fun this time of year. Even though I am going to my parents house for Thanksgiving, I am still going to make a turkey over the weekend--for leftovers, etc. I know that Derek loves turkey, and whatever comes with it (as does Philip), and I want to make him happy. If it pleases P, well...THAT would be a miracle.
Speaking of this time of year. It just so happens that our 11th wedding anniversary is coming up. Should be interesting. Eleven years ago, on November 25th, 2000, we married on the weekend after Thanksgiving (to make it easier for his family, who were coming in for the holiday). It was cold and windy that day. A sign, perhaps? Probably, but I didn't see it. Funny thing, I was checking my other blog and I noticed that I didn't post anything about our 10th anniversary last year. It was supposed to be such a big occasion, and I don't remember what we did. Maybe that was a sign of things to come. Who knows?
So anyway, did I pass the non-pathetic, non-whiny test? Yes, I still think about T and wonder what he's doing, and I probably always will. But instead of listening to depressing music, I switched to Christmas CDs. It's a step up. You all should be proud of me.
I really should not drink. Really. My other blog told about my big night out with the girls, but it did not tell you everything. This is the rest of the story:
I was having a good time with the girls, it's true. But when I saw T walk in with his date, I could not keep my eyes off them. It took about an hour before the rest of the woman at my table noticed them, but I knew that he was there. Maybe I was jealous--I don't know.
Then the conversation was all about T, the neighborhood's "man whore". They talked about his dates, and the current one at his table. Then Roberta regaled us with a rumor that she had heard about him, and we it was decided that it explained everything about why he was so popular. I'm thinking on investing in a pair of binoculars, by the way. But, I know that I wouldn't have the nerve to use them, Roberta is right about that.
Fast forward about an hour. Roberta had teased me because I was drinking iced tea (among other things--she wouldn't leave me alone), so I decided to prove to her that I could have fun. Those young guys at the bar sent over the pitcher of shots, and I tried one. Then I tried another. Then another. I remember feeling a little woozy as I rose to walk towards the bathroom. On the way back, I stopped at T's table.
He immediately knew that I was drunk, as I introduced myself to his pick of the night. I think that I actually said "So, you're the latest pick of the night?" Classy, right? He has never seen me in that condition, so I think that he was in shock. I said some more things that I don't remember, and his date was ruined--I would like to hope that it wasn't intentional. I didn't like her--I know that for a fact. She kept giving me dirty looks. He deserves so much better than her.
From that point on, I do not remember much, but I do know that he drove me home, and walked me to the door so that I didn't fall on my face. I remember thanking him and thinking that he was so damned handsome, and how I was so attracted to him. Then I somehow came to my senses. THANK GOD!
Fast forward to Monday at the home. While we waited for Frank to come back to the room, T told me that I hit on him several times on Saturday night--once making a comment about how big his hands and feet are (Chloe confirmed as much when I talked to her on the phone Sunday night. She said that I "wasn't myself" and should not drink shots anymore--Duh!)
T teased me further by thanking me for a so-called "great night". He fooled me for a second, because I remember something that I said at my front door that may have been a little flirty. Eventually, I saw through his ruse. His date was waiting in the truck, and nothing happened. Then he mentioned something about the heart shaped birthmark on my tummy, and now I'm wondering if I was dancing on the table with my shirt off. How does he know about that birthmark? I've got to find that out, somehow.
Meanwhile, my head was pounding so much that it could have split a mountain in half. T convinced me that he could make it go away with reflexology. I was in no mood to argue with him, and I was in so much pain that I would have tried anything. I agreed to have him try, and it was working. I was relaxed, and comfortable, but soon I felt sensations in certain places. Shocked, I quickly pulled my foot back like an airplane retracting its landing gear. He laughed, and said that he didn't mean to do it. I blushed, because I am not so sure that it was unintentional. Why do I always trust this guy?
Maybe it was revenge for ruining his date? I don't know, but it does make me wonder.
