Hey, I gave the lynx sex book AWAY! I did not KEEP the lynx sex book! In fact, I'm not sure I ever *bought* the lynx sex book, I have no idea how it ended up in my possession. Possibly from a previous exchange of bad books with a friend. SHEESH. Bring ONE awful crazy bestiality book to a get together, and get a REPUTATION, around here...

I think Plei took it HOME....

Wait, Lilian could be inspired by LYNX SEX?!?!?!

Wally Report! Or, The Love That Dare Not Geek Its Name.

Ok, that's getting way ahead of myself. But nonetheless, last night was my first date with AS. In fairness, there was some dispute about its status. The ostensible purpose was to help her out with her actuarial studies, and she had resisted my attempts to reinterpret it as her asking me out. She'd suggested Subway, I countered with the Pancake Parlour - a traditional staple of exam prep back at the ANU, thanks to its proximity to the uni, all-night operating hours, large book-friendly seats and tables, and bottomless cups of coffee. Only problem, apparently she has no sense of direction and didn't think she'd be able to find it. New plan, get out of the city completely. I made reservations at a Thai restaurant up the road from my apartment, which was all good, and then back to my place for the study.

Study went on against the backdrop of my brother killing demons, messily. It's a long time since I went through the actuarial study, and the course has changed since then, so I was unsure how much I'd be able to do off the top of my head. Answer: enough to help her, and even impress her a bit. However, I have homework to do before the next time, I'm about at the limit of what I remember.

As the evening goes on, her attention is drifting. So we move on to interview prep (her job interview's been moved to Friday). I've prepared a list of possible questions, we run through her answers, discuss what they'd really be looking for and how to approach matters. My last question: "Say we can offer you a position in Sydney. However, you've just met a great guy here in Melbourne, who's intelligent, funny and extremely modest. What do you do?" Hypothetically speaking, of course.

So then I drive her home, she lives about half an hour away (faster at this time of night). We get there, and we wind up talking for a while in the car. She brings up the "I think we'll be great friends" line again. In person, I'm even more sure that my reading of this is correct, and that it's not covering up anything set in stone. We talk about attitudes to this sort of situation again, I talk about playing it safe or going for the brass ring (again). She talks a bit about playing it safe. We move on to more personal stuff, I discuss some of what I went through over the last year. She hugs me when we get onto my mother.

Then I take her hand, and reopen the issue of the status of tonight. Something along these lines:

Me: "So when we set up this evening, you were very adamant it wasn't a date. We were just going to grab a bite and do some study."
Her: "What's your point?" (She's pretty direct.)
Me: "Well, it changed a little. We went out to a proper restaurant, you came back to my place. Where my brother was killing demons. Is it a date yet?"
Her: "Ok, it's ambiguous."
Me: "And now we're sitting here and talking, and I'm holding your hand. Is it a date yet?"
Her: "Maybe."
Me: "What if I kissed you? Would that make it a date?"
Her: "Why is it so important to you whether or not it's a date?"
Me: "It's not. It's important to me that I kiss you."

We stay in the car for a while. I'm holding her, and we're having one of those lazy conversations where the how is more important than the what. And then out of the blue she asks, "Am I good enough for you?" For me that was the meltiest moment. (Multiple choice: did I answer (a) yes (b) no (c) by kissing her again?)

So. I seem to be girlfriended. This is an interesting turn of events. I must make a note to run some tests.

"It's not. It's important to me that I kiss you."

billytea, that sound you just heard was all the Buffista women SWOONING in unison. I think we all want a great guy to say that to us. (Or, well, I damn well do.)

t edit Also, your post made me jump and then go "Eeeeep!" with happiness for you.

squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

girlfriendedtea!

Heh. See? Trudy and I have the long-E category of Noises Of Joy covered. Eeeeps and Squeeeees all around!

Heh. See? Trudy and I have the long-E category of Noises Of Joy covered. Eeeeps and Squeeeees all around!

Some long-E noises as yet uncovered:

AIEEEEEEEEE!

FLEEEEEEEEE!!

OH, THE HUMANITEEEEEEEEE!!!

billyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyteeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Ok, not sure that one works.

But you get the idea.

How about:

SNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

It doesn't mean anything. I just thought it should be added to the list.

In good news, my mother's only question on receiving the "I'm GAY" letter was "Well then why do you read those awful trashy romance novels?".

Ha!