Hi, I'm Vixen! Welcome to my totally true Adventures in Dating blog. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.
I've got this post sticking to the top of the blog so that new readers will see it first.
This blog will make way more sense if you read it in chronological order, from the first/earliest post to the most recent, since I frequently refer to past experiences. So from here, jump to the first post in the Adventures in Dating blog and read on from there... and if you like reading about my adventures, drop me a note or leave me a comment and let me know - 'tis nice to know my efforts are fruitful... for someone, anyways :)
Traveler, bless him, is just a little bit evil. But in that fun, spanky kind of way. He's got a very sexy devilish side, and often jokes that he was put on this earth to be a bad influence on the people in his life. He also often jokes that he's had his horns and tail removed but they kept coming back, so he had them cauterized.
I thought he was joking, but now I'm not so sure. I've seen the horns myself, now! Being the metrosexual guy that he is, he manscapes, he uses hair product, he dresses well. His hair pretty much always gets some product after he showers to keep his "jewfro" (his term) under control. But a few times now, I've seen his hair without the fine control of whatever he uses to wrestle it into a perfect coiffure... like this morning, when he got out of bed and puttered around for a couple of hours before hopping in the shower. And I've realized that the natural tendency of his hair, when he's not wrestling it under control with hair product, is to form little horns. Seriously, when uncontrolled, the hair at the top of his head (which is no more than an inch or two) naturally forms itself into little horn shapes, as if he TRIED to do that.
Today's story involves what sounds like it would make the perfect "no WAY that actually happened" story in Penthouse Forum. It involves Traveler becoming a hero to a dear friend and to men everywhere.
But let me start at the beginning. A dear old friend of Traveler's recently moved to the area and is staying with him for a few months. Since he's an art restoration specialist and because I'm not feeling particularly creative at the moment with the monikers, we'll just call him Art. Art is a very sweet guy, but doesn't have a lot of game with the ladies. Traveler recently commented something to the effect of "I need to find Art a woman!" - as in "He's a great guy who could make some lady very happy and having a lady in his life would make HIM very happy!" My first suggestion was that we should introduce him to Nancy, until I realized he smokes and that's a dealbreaker for her. So, we backburnered the idea of "Who can we fix up with Art?" And went on about our merry way.
Well, ask, and the universe shall deliver. And Traveler shall deliver the favor of all favors. Yesterday morning he got a call from a friend he'd not talked to in a few months. Claire is a former friend with benefits, and was hoping to re-establish some of those benefits with Traveler. He told her that he's off the market now (she was very happy for him and eager to meet the woman, i.e. me, who took him off the market), and in their conversation, the topic of Art (who she'd previously met briefly) came up. She admitted that she'd thought Art was pretty cute when she met him, and Traveler invited her to come out and join him for a late lunch, and then when Art got home from work mid-afternoon, the two of them could go out for drinks and get reacquainted a bit.
So, a few hours later, Traveler instant messaged me at work. "Well, Art and Claire have hit it off."
"Yay!" I responded.
"They are fucking on my bed right now." He replied.
My jaw just about hit the floor. "Are you SERIOUS??"
Things have been going really well with Traveler. Really well. Did I say really well? Yeah, they have been. Going really well. We seem to have skipped all that early feeling-one-another-out tentative early stages of dating and slid right into happy couplehood. We're see each other daily, and spend almost all of our nights together, sleeping apart once, maybe twice a week. Neither of us is used to this - this being with another person almost all the time we're not working - but we've settled into it quite comfortably. We find more and more compatibilities all the time, and it is truly delightful.
It was quite a weekend. Where to start? How about at the beginning. So, Friday night, I went out for the evening with Mitch, as we'd not hung out just the two of us in a while. We grabbed dinner and a movie, and lucked into having perfect seats for an outdoor concert from our patio dinner reservations. We chatted and giggled in girly fashion about how wonderfully things have been going with Traveler, and a good time was had by all.
Saturday morning, I headed out Traveler's way. We had a bunch of social engagements over the course of the weekend, and in between them, we were decidedly domestic, shopping for supplies needed for our upcoming trip to Jamaica (yay!) and for projects we're doing around our collective houses. It's funny how the little things like going shopping together and baking and home improvements can be so comfortably coupley. It was lovely.
As long as I've known him, I've been giving TheLibrarian a hard time about his sad, sad, ancient little pay-as-you-go cell phone. Held together by tape and prayer, his phone is rarely on, and when it is, it's hit or miss whether it will be near enough for him to hear and answer it. And forget about texting. His phone can receive texts but he doesn't get notified that they've come in, so usually misses them entirely (and, I think, may have sent me all of one brief text message in the entire time I've known him). This technological impairment of his has long been a source of teasing, since I'm a big technophile and texter, and he is otherwise very tech savvy.
Well, this week, he finally got a new phone, a fancy android phone full of big boy phone features. And about an hour ago, I got a text message from him:
I got up for work yesterday morning and when I left, left Traveler behind about to hop in the shower and hit the road himself. Shortly after I got to the office, I got a call from Traveler.
"Your bathroom just attacked me!" he said.
"Whaaaaa???" I replied.
He went on to explain that as he stood in the shower stall post-shower drying himself off, large chunks of ceiling started falling onto his head. Eeeeek! He had to shower again to wash his hair a second time, and, he said, as he was drying off the second time, more of the ceiling fell, but he dodged it all nimble like a ninja.
As it turns out, it wasn't like heavy chunks of ceiling/drywall falling on his head, but the popcorn ceiling paint peeling off and falling in big chunks. Now, this wasn't an entirely new issue in my bathroom, it's been peeling now and then for a couple of years, and I've just been unable to decide what color I want to repaint the room (and whether I want to completely renovate the entire bathroom). But the peeling's always been in the center of the room - this was the first time it started falling down into the shower.
Traveler diagnosed the problem, having done a lot of home (and bathroom) renovations in his time. Apparently, when my home was built about 13 years ago, the builders never bothered to prime the ceiling, they just slapped up the drywall and sprayed the popcorn ceilings directly on top. It's amazing the steam from the shower didn't peel off the popcorn ceilings a long long time ago.
So, in the next few minutes of conversation, Traveler said it would be no problem for us to tackle the rest of the ceiling and repaint the bathroom (and insisted he help me do it myself rather than me hiring a painter), and then we got into a lengthy discussion of all the remodeling I've been considering doing in there (ripping out a few walls, putting in new floors, vanity, and a completely new custom shower, among other things). He's full of ideas, and we agreed to discuss it in more detail later.
Well, later came late that night after a particularly rowdy bout of sex. Traveler jumped up from the bed to rinse off in the shower, and then remembered that he'd not cleaned up the fallen bits if ceiling from that morning...
...which is how I ended up with a naked man standing on a 6 foot ladder in my bathroom at one in the morning, scraping paint off the ceiling and into a waste bin.
It seemed entirely surreal, standing there in my bathrobe, staring up at his cute bare butt bouncing around up on the ladder as he stretched to scrape all the loose bits of paint down so there'd be no more falling on our heads. And then he cheerfully got down on his knees and swept up every last bit of paint before hopping in the shower and explaining to me how full of awesome we could make my master bath for far less money than I would have thought.
Traveler and I continue to move on into couplehood, still unable to get enough of one another. Without planning to do so, we seem to find our way into one anothers' arms every day, even on the days when we explicitly plan not to.
He had plans to leave Saturday for a business trip, but with much to do in advance of the trip, I expected him to stay the night Wednesday evening, as we had plans, and then that after we parted ways Thursday morning, I might not see him again until he returned from his trip the following Wednesday. But my house swallowed him up on Thursday. I was rather amused by the sequence of events:
Traveler and I had a simply lovely Sunday together. He suggested that we go to the botanical gardens at a nearby university, bring our cameras, and do some shooting. We're both photography enthusiasts, although I suspect that, like most things, he is better and more experienced at it than me. I've been doing hobby photography most of my life, but he actually has cause to do photography professionally, photographing all his own products (and models wearing his products) for his business. I was happy with his suggestion, and we started the afternoon with lunch at a favorite eclectic diner near the gardens.