meet mr. november

Gather round, children, because it is story time -- I went on a date last night.

There won't be any familiar characters in this story, mostly because things with Mr. October (that's what I'm calling this most recent of situations, partly because it happened in October, partly because it happened some during the World Series and partly because he, like most Southern men, gave me a hard time about pulling for the Yankees) have crashed and burned like a Hindenburg of Awkward Proportions.

I'll give you a moment to get over your shock.

The bottom line it seems was that he didn't want to be blogged about, and unfortunately that kind of comes with the territory of dating me. While I certainly can't empathize with the way he feels, I can understand it. Putting your life on the internet isn't for just every body. It was obviously a deal breaker for him that I wrote about those details of our (fledgling as it was) relationship, and it was a deal breaker for me to have such a central part of my life off-limits.

So last night I went out with Mr. November. Though I'm hoping this one will put up with me long enough to make it into at least December (it's only two weeks away, for God's sake), it is presently November and naming the boys in this way makes me feel like the curator of a beefcake calendar photo shoot. Yum.

Anywho. In yet another episode from my awkward memoir, we did in fact go to the same restaurant that Mr. October took me to on our first outing together, but I can't help that I like sushi and that the place is adorable and kitschy and now a five minute walk from my apartment. It happens.

We had dinner, we had drinks, we went across the street to a bar to watch the Tigers play and had a few more beers -- it was a really good time. Like, I'm in one of those moods today kind of good time. But here's what's so uncanny about the whole thing: I've known this guy since I was a senior in high school.

Clearly back in 2003 I was a completely different version of myself, and I'll venture to say that's not too far off-base for him, either. I remember thinking that he was egotistical and entitled -- we used to debate politics. I was a bleeding heart (that much at least hasn't changed) and he was conservative to some degree and I was 18 and unaware that sometimes other people have different opinions and it isn't actually a personal affront to you. He made me crazy, but in that way that made me want to just keep arguing.

Fast forward about five years. My brother's in town back in September, I run into a friend from high school at the Young Ave. Deli, and Mr. November happens to be with him. We chat for a minute and catch up, and I guess I was working my feminine wiles (sometimes they just work themselves, you know, it's so hard to keep up) because I had a text from him oh, long about the very next day.

So I bet you're wondering by now if I learned my lesson with Mr. October. About the whole blogging about dating thing. And if I did, why am I giving you all these specific details? Am I bananas? Well, yes. Probably. But the answer to the first question is that I did learn a very important lesson. I went into that date last night guns-a-blazing, prepared to lay out the truth: I have a blog. I'm going to blog about you. You're going to have to be okay with it.

But here's the thing, y'all. Mr. November? He knew I had a blog. Not only did he know, he pretty much read the thing back to front before our date. What? I'm not the only one internet stalking!? WHAT PARALLEL UNIVERSE IS THIS?

So here's what we know so far: last night was fabulous, he's copacetic with the blog and we almost managed to pull our unranked Tigers to a victory over No. 1 Kansas. Tuesday for the win.


cheers,
elizabeth