2005-08-12 9:38 a.m.
Thinking
I was thinking on the way to work, thanks to Six again, about "that" guy. He sounded similar to Six's "S". I'll call him "G". If I hadn't been married I would have sworn G was my soul mate. We met on so many levels. He was that smart bad boy type and yet he had so many things in common with me. He loved music and programming and he was very good at the latter. So good that I knew he'd take my job, but then that challenged me to be better. It was scarey how much he thought like me and how he flirted with me. No one ever flirted with me. How we had deep conversations and how he was even willing to play cards with me. I fell in love with this man's brain. He was cute too. Later I realized that whatever he possessed, he used with everyone. Women fawned all over him. We followed him like puppies. I don't know how he did it. A chameleon of sorts. I also realized he was very in the moment. He would be gone from my life when we no longer worked together and I was right. For a little while we remained in touch, but then it stopped. He moved on (married and had children from what I understand). But I still miss that connection. That connection I've never had with anyone else. I don't even have it with my husband. G seemed to like me as I was and liked the things I like, whereas dh likes me, wants me, but doesn't like many of the things I like, like my music, my work, or the little things I like to do for entertainment. I guess I like someone who challenges me to think more or harder and I don't get that much any more.
On an entirely different note: Today's Pet Peeve.
Ok, this will probably be lame, but once again I can't help myself. I have boobs ... surprise. They are a nice size, not too large or too small. Often the boyish husband feels the need to squeeze them. Yes, he's walking by and boom ... squeezed. I suspect I should lavish this attention from my horny husband, but I feel like a TV who's knobs get turned every so often and I am not a TV! I am not an appliance. Step away from the boobs! Maybe I could put some sort of zapper on them. I know I know. That ain't right either, but there's a time for this stuff. Isn't there? Ok, it's probably just me.
See, lame. Ok, go back to your regularly scheduled programming.
I just had to add this. Six (and Zen apparently) call this "drive-by boob honkings." I love it! That's exactly what they feel like. It's as if I was one of those little horns you stick on a bicycle. Maybe I'll beep from now on, some dreadful noise that I'm sure he'll appreciate. Of course that would probably backfire and he'd do it more often.
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