24 hours can do wonders for reflective thought. It's been roughly a whole day since the Valentine's Day date of DOOM, and I'm actually drawing fond memories of that night of ego-crushing proportions. From what I'm told, the Daredevil movie was quite the bust, although I'm still committed to seeing every Marvel movie and owning the DVD from here on out. Ok, onto the happy reminiscing.
She takes my right hand while I'm driving (I drive with my left hand) and thanks me for being her Valentine. Unfortunately, she later jokes to me that I wouldn't have had a Valentines if it weren't for her.
She's overjoyed that I made a copy of Justin Timberlake's "Justified" album for her. She gets excited pretty easily.
She compares me to an friend of her's in Cincinatti (not sure if thats a good or bad thing), in that I can just as easily share a love of music with her.
She insists on taking both my Valentine's Day CD compilations (the infamous straw that broke the date's proverbial back), "Love Sucks" and "Love Rocks." Being the sap that I am, I let her have them. Of course I can just record more.
We sing off-key and horribly to the sounds of Dashboard Confessional and New Found Glory.
Dinner at On the Border. "Was the waiter's name Rod or Rob?"
We talked about family. I convince her that a German Shepherd is way better than a Yellow Labrador, and that a mop dog sucks in comparison to a bloodhound. Ultimately, she decides that she'll get both the lab and the shepherd, with a small house dog to neglect and live in the shadow of the coolest outdoor dogs ever.
Two sons and two daughters or three daughters and one son? She chooses the latter, while I insist on the former. I know far too well the joys of being the only son, but she's adamant on "babying" her only son. Hah.
She slips up and says she doesn't want our children to compete against each other. She quickly apologizes, and we laugh.
We overate at On the Border, and chill in my car for a bit. I'd rather not drive on a full stomach. She keeps insisting that we hurry up and go, and warns, "You'll never make it with a Mexican girlfriend if you don't suck it up like a man and drive!" I am suspect to believe she's not very good at dropping subtle hints.
She repeatedly says that she's having a lot of fun, and that we're having a great date. Yet again, I'm led to believe that subtlety is not her strong suit. Either that, or she's the worst liar I've met thus far. Oddly enough, I choose to believe the latter.
When we finished our date, and arrived at my house and to her car, I gave her both the candy roses I forced my youngest sister to make for me. She instead chooses to keep one and let me have the other one. Not sure what that's supposed to mean. She warns me not to eat the candy.
I try sneak a kiss from her at the conclusion of our date, but she refrains. I can understand why me trying such a stunt was uncalled for, namely because we spent the last few hours of the date with her ex-boyfriend, of all people. If that's not the ultimate romantic mood killer, I don't know what is. Instead, she gives me a kiss on the cheek (damn*%$!), and leaves me with this:
me: "No kiss?"
her: "Not yet...but I promise it'll be worth waiting for..."
She smiles, I'm confused. Yet again.
As you can see, I live a torrid love life.