I'm cool with this dating again thing. Don't get me wrong - I never thought I wouldn't be cool with the dating thing (those PTSD years are SOO over). I just didn't think things would pop up like this and then I'd be dating again.
It has been sudden, but not too sudden - it's not like last year around this time when ex and I started dating - and we didn't just start dating: we dove head first into the commitment pool. Overnight we became Carlaandex. And then we were Carlaandex until the day we broke up and then I became Carla again and he went back to being ex. I like things this way - the new way. I am still Carla, but I happen to be dating Boy. We didn't suddenly become Carlaandboy. We are Carla And Boy. Two Separate People Who Happen To Be Dating (because I think that's the official term we gave this).
So far (you know, these ever-so-important first three days) I like this.
And he did my dishes Monday - without being asked - which could never hurt any situation. Now maybe he really loves to clean and will come help me pick up the rest of this place before I have 1.8 million people spend the night of the showcase here. (*hint hint,* hon, if you're reading this - I'll put on music and dance around and make it fun and everything! You could even help me fix that top I need to wear for the showcase - you know the one I'm talking about, the one that makes my chest look like Dolly Parton, if Dollywood had been built upon her chest.)
Oh that top. Everyone else looks so amazingly good in that expensive top from Victoria's Secret, but Victoria didn't let me keep any of my secrets. They are all out there on my chest screaming "LOOK AT US! We're bigger than all the others combined!" And it's really not fun for me when my boobs are screaming so loudly that I can't hear the music or my partner counting. Now, I could be counting in my head, but I wouldn't have to if my breasts would stop telling the world they are about to fall out - because then I could hear the music.
France won the World Cup and all I got was a lesson in how to chill out - On Sunday I befriended a 20-year-old French kid named Etienne while sitting on the concrete railing of a walkway leading down to the Seine. We were gathere...
5 days ago