I never thought I'd be writing a thank-you note to an exercise program, much less one I've never tried myself. But if Date #3 last night with the Journalist taught me anything, it's the value of p90x. I. AM. A. CONVERT.
After patiently accompanying me to a marathon, 3 1/2 hour high school band concert, the Journalist and I had margaritas and Mexican food at Casa Vega. We chatted away amiably, covering everything from dating to death (really) and by the time we were done it was 1am. We went back to my place, and things got pretty hot and heavy. I was rearranging my bed sheets when I looked up and saw the Journalist, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and HOLY GOD, I CONFIRMED THAT I'M STRAIGHT. I mean, I've had moments of wondering if perhaps my love life wasn't working out due to some kind of latent lesbianism deep inside me...but that first moment of seeing the Journalist basically nude made me so, 100% certain that I'm straight. I mean, his body is a glorious sight to behold. He is long, lean, and perfectly ripped. It was astounding. I think I might have thanked God outloud. I mean, the guy looks like the fucking DAVID. WHAT A TURN-ON!
Anyway, he spent the night. He told me he likes me "a lot". We had breakfast in the morning. We made more plans. And we slept together, but only literally. It was a fantastic night, and I'm in for more.
Being single has become a way of life for me...I've been the swinging single girl for such a long time that it's hard to imagine being half of two. But when faced with someone as lovely, as kind, and as awesome as this Journalist fellow...I can begin to imagine.
And, at about 3am as we lay in the shadows, he did his best Liverpoolian accent, so I could imagine I was in bed with Paul McCartney. Amazing.
Stay tuned, this is going to be a good one. And thanks again, P90x. You done good.
Love,
Foodie Gal
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