Current mood:	loved
Current music:	Ryan Adams - "Desire"

a weekend of ruined plans and I couldn't be happier
That was, officially, without question, one of the best weekends I have had in so long I don't remember. Let's recap, shall we?

Friday

Friday night I got a lot done, puttering about the internet. On my way home from various places abroad, I decided Steak -n- Shake was a good idea. Happy with my chili and small strawberry yogurt shake, I was nearly parked when my phone rang. It was Shaun Shaun the Leprechaun. He asked if I wanted to have dinner with him. I offered to throw my food in the fridge and meet him.

Dinner was delightful. We laughed and talked -- the waiter was sweet. After dinner, we went to Shaun's parents' home. To die for beautiful! Three pianos.... I melted... We talked, we laughed, we went through his classic book collection, which nearly killed me. I fell apart a couple times with the first editions he had. While chilling, my phone rang. It was Eamon, calling to talk about the happy news from Monday. (He got accepted to the London School of Economics!) I promised to call when I was back at my place and returned to watching hockey with Shaun. We laughed and talked for a little bit, and I mentioned my fleeting desire to fly out to NYC to celebrate Eamon's accomplishment with him. Shaun's dark little Irish eyes lit up and he responded, "How would Joplin feel about that?" My amused laugh told more than I intended, and he wheedled me for the story.

Joplin was acquainted with a staff member I will henceforth refer to as Elo. She is a vegetarian, and therefore of interest to me so I could get some "non friend/ I'm saying this just so you don't punch me" feed back about the food selections for non-meat eating delegates. After conference, I sent her a message asking her thoughts on the food subject. No other allusions were made, and I had no desire to talk about Joplin with her. At conference, she'd hugged on him repeatedly enough that others asked if they were together. Her response was, "No, I know way too much about him for that." And Joplin just shook his head, keeping mum on the subject. Her response to my email was as lengthy and detailed as I had anticipated. She included suggestions I didn't need (I already have a list), and some "hints" about the anemia accompanying vegan diet strategies. At the end, she mentioned hickeys on Joplin's neck, asking if I knew anything about how they got there. I replied in dismay, thanking her for the food information and pointing out that I had nothing to do with Joplin's hickeys, so thanks for the heads up. I also mentioned I hope I passed the initial "so, you like my friend..." interview and that Joplin is lucky to have friends looking out for him enough to ask a total stranger about hickeys. Her reply was apologetic, admitting she hadn't know my lack of involvement and warning me about Joplin's nature. Her description included, "very self-centered" and "a jerk." It was, in general, unflattering and ended with the admonishment, "I would suggest not trying to get anything from Joplin except friendship." She also apologized for "upsetting you." Amazed, I wrote back that it was fine. I mentioned that boys are not worth getting worked up over, and offered the information that the status of the situation is this: he was very sweet to me, we're talking, that's it, that's all. I also suggested that everything would be fine, and that we should talk another time.

Now, my initial reaction to all this was, "Well, I'm done." I was more irate that I was being gossiped about than anything else, readily assuming that he had suggested I had given him said hickeys. I quickly let that burn off and remembered my other interactions with Elo during conference. She had not been one to accept me as "friend," especially during our conversations about other guys. Having been unimpressed, I seriously began to realize I was latching on to an opportunity to sabotage whatever situation is developing with Joplin because I was scared of the implications therein. I also had no desire to let anyone outside of Joplin and I alter the course of whatever Joplin and I are becoming. So I began to let it go. But the knowledge began to push at me, and I felt dishonest withholding the truth of the situation from Joplin.

Getting home from Shaun's, I got ready for bed and decided to call Eamon. He was happy and chatty until I brought up his kissing session with Elo. He was upset that so many people had discussed it, himself finding no reason for it to be important. I mentioned that it seemed to raise questions such as, "Is this the beginning of a relationship?" No sooner had the hypothetical question escaped my lips than Eamon's exclamation of "GAWD I hope not!" trumpeted in my ears. I laughed delightedly and went on to discuss my dilemna with Eamon. I told him how I felt at the time, saying simply, "All I really want to do is say, 'Hey. I got this unsolicited advice about you, and I just wanted you to know this is what was said, and it's kind of weirding me out. That's all.' That's all I want to say." Eamon pondered this a moment and said, "Jess, that's a really mature way of handling the situation. Why don't you do it that way?" Oh, how to explain that even with the disclaimer, I've had just such discussions explode into "Why were you asking my friends about me?!" Eamon finally understood, mentioned I should still do it, and we moved on to other topics.

Eamon and I ended up talking for just over an hour. We ranged all over the place. I was very honest and tried to be sweet. He was equally honest, and seemed amazed that I was so fast to be honest with him. "I appreciate that, Jess. It's nice to have a conversation between People, with a capital P." I thanked him for the compliment. We talked about adoption (a shared reality, though circumstances were not the same), as well as feelings about relationships. We had a lovely talk and when it ended at around 2 am, he very sweetly said, "I'll call you soon!" I congratulated him again and hung up.

Left to my own devices, I began to wonder just how Joplin would react to direct honesty. By and large, my best attribute (in my humble opinion) is my willingness to be honest. Having served me well in the past, I decided to give it a shot. Before passing out from exhaustion, I sent Joplin a text asking him to call me when he got a minute.

Saturday

The next morning I was up early (8 am) to go play with the Kitties. I dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts with the internal understanding that I would see no one so the outfit I would never normally wear was in no way a big deal. I did a double take as I walked by the mirror. Not only did I look adorable, I also looked incredibly happy. Further encouraged, I gathered up my writing materials and made the trek to Snickers/Fluffy's apartment.

Curling up on the couch, I attempted to set to work on my novel. Dismay soon colored my face as I realized that I had, in fact, no way to work on it. Frustrated, I reclined on the sofa and enjoyed a luxury I am out of the habit of enjoying: cable television. While reclining, Karissa called. We had a lovely chat and I pointed out my concerns over having conversations with Eamon I would rather be having with Joplin. Karissa told me to calm down and offered her usually grounding advice before leaping off the phone to save the literary world again.

Playing hide-and-seek with the Kitties around the apartment, I almost missed the sound of my phone going off. I'd received a text message from Joplin. He'd gone to bed very early the night before, and at 11 am, he was just now waking. He very sweetly asked what was up. I replied, asking if I could call him. After 15 minutes with no reply, I sent basic information about a St. Pat's get-together to which he was invited, in addition to the simple sentence: "I got some unsolicited advise about you and wanted you to know." He finally responded that "Sure you can call. Sorry, I was getting a snack."

His voice was unusually deep when he answered on the first ring. My toes curled (I heart bass voices to a disturbing degree), and I mentioned his Barry White-ness. He chuckled and explained that, in large groups, he purposely raises the timbre of his voice so that people are less intimidated by him. I laughed, comiserating on the point of being intimidating, though I admitted I'm baffled by my own intimidation factor. Without hesitation, he said, "Jess, the reason you're intimidating is because you walk around with a smile on your face that says 'I know something you don't know.'" I found that a wonderful description. We talked about his tendency to walk around as though he owned the place, which he admitted, "I do because I don't have that kind of security."

As our discussion of intimidation wound down, I delicately mentioned that I'd received some unsolicited advice about him. With a sigh, he said, "Who gave you this advice, and what was it?" (It should be noted that, at that moment, all I really wanted to do was kiss him) I began by saying, "I wrote Elo an email" to which he immediately responded, "How did I know it was her?" I told him word for word the email interaction. When hickeys were mentioned, he groaned and said, "Oh Gawd!" but I kept talking. When I finished, he sighed again and explained. Elo had developed a little crush on him when they initially met, and after it didn't go the way she planned, she began a 2-faced dance of psychosis which reached such pitch that he no longer speaks to her unless it's unavoidable. We talked about it, he convinced me that she was insane and was to be disregarded, and then said the strangest thing. "Yah know, Jess, I leave her alone. I don't mess with her, and she has to get in the middle of my rel.... my interactions with other people." Having been 'on a roll' and not carefully monitoring himself up to that point, I did my best to brush off the slight slip. I confess a modest smile of hope and nothing more.

The conversation turned to other topics. We discussed dream cars, including a fascinating education he gave me on how the best vehicles ever were built in the 1990's. Apparently, his car affection is reserved for the NSX. I know very little about it, but I certainly began my education Saturday. I cannot remember a more fascinating car lecture in my life, and that's saying something. He was patient with my questions, encouraged my enthusiasm and was patient with the odd gaps in my knowledge. We talked about politics at length, enjoying several common points of theory and belief. We talked about family, towns of origin, even his feelings on having children. His empassioned view of government is impressive: "Government should feed its people, keep its people reasonably safe and provide health care." There were more fine points, and other opinions in there including a lengthy discourse on sex education, but by and large it was the passion with which he spoke that captivated me. We also, at that point, talked about The West Wing. I feigned annoyance, announcing that I would have to completely end my plans for the weekend so that I could instead watch The West Wing. He laughed, saying he often thought of himself as Josh Lyman, sitting at his desk, saying aloud, "Wait... what just happened?" This was part of his explanation for the repeated statement, "Wait, what are we talking about?" He admitted, "Jess, I tend to read too much into a lot of things." At one point, he sighed and said, "I can't figure out how to do it yet. I know the world has to change. As soon as I figure out how to do it, I'll do it." So, yes, if anyone asks, I know the exact sentence that told me just how much trouble I was in.

We talked for 3 hours. At the end of 3 hours, he politely excused himself and admitted he needed to eat. We agreed to talk later, he promised to try to come up for St. Pat's. It was a delightful end to a pleasant conversation.

That afternoon, I went out. I bought "The Replacements" because it had been in my head for reasons passing understanding. I went back to my apartment, watched the movie and had leftovers from the night before. I know I was glowing. I know I was grinning stupidly. I got some looks and even a couple compliments while I was out, but it didn't really matter at all. The evening was lovely. I caught up with Girl Randi, and a couple other people I'd not talked to in months.

Sunday

Sunday I got up early and went back over to watch the Kitties. I had a lovely morning conversation with Meig H. I also called Mom to wish her Happy Birthday. The afternoon was eaten away by the first picnic I've had in years. Erin V. and I went to the park and had chicken. It was wonderful! She and I bonded over guy talk and poultry. There were puppies everywhere, stopping to say hi and beg for food we did not give. Such sweet dogs! I loved all of the little faces... and a few couples were out with their small children. It was incredibly sweet. When coupled with good conversation and some bonding moments, it was a gorgeous day that I can't say I would trade for much else on this earth.

Sunday night, I had a mini-texting war with Joplin over the fact that he can't come to St. Pat's. I had to tell HIM that his schedule was double-booked. It was cute, and he actually texted me the word "Sowwy." Stupid, but adorable nonetheless. So we texted for a bit and wished each other a nice week. I watched another movie late Sunday evening, finished my weekend of leftovers, and realized just how happy I was that all my carefully laid plans had been ruined.

There are some weekend plans designed to be destroyed. I've never been happier with a ruined plan in my life.