I hate this part....

So I have this rule that I don't have sleepovers with gentleman callers for at least 3 months after our first date. This means, if you factor this out, that Liquid Chocolate Eyes (still haven't come up with a non-sucky nickname) should expect to have a sleepover at my house sometime in July.

Which doesn't explain why our second date, which was supposed to be a coffee when he came through town, lasted 38 hours.

Yes folks, 38 hours. Coffee turned into supper, then it turned into watching Tropic Thunder, which then turned into....well, I think you can guess, and ladies don't talk about such things.

Suffice it to say that there may be some chemistry between LCE and myself. In a valiant effort to observe the 3-month rule, I blurted out that this might complicate things if I am still seeing other people and he is still seeing other people. However, in the heat of the moment, this was utterly disregarded by both of us and never mentioned again.

Sooooo....now comes the confusing part. Having had TWO sleepovers on our second date, I am unsure as to whether I can continue to accept other dates with suitors. We didn't talk about it, and it is incredibly awkward to ask these things when you have put the proverbial cart before the horse. I have an allergy to sounding like a clingy female, and asking a fellow on the second date whether or not the relationship is now an exclusive one seems a little needy.

But I DO feel needy. There is a saying that men don't think clearly before they have sex and women don't think clearly after they have sex, and I understand what that means now.

He left yesterday when I had to leave for court, and we had a hot clinch in my living room. And there was no mention of seeing each other again any time soon. He texted me last night to ask how my day went, and we texted back and forth a couple of times, but once again no mention of a third date. And I KNOW I am being neurotic, but I reserve that right, given the infringement of the 3-month rule and the resulting chaos in my little psyche.

I even went so far as to check the online dating site about 6 times since yesterday morning to see if he has signed in (he hasn't, but now it looks like I have - oops).

So while it is very exciting on one level to have a hot new romance, the uncertainty that is incumbent in this stage drives me crazy. Do we now have a standing Saturday night date because we broke the 3-month rule? Can I start writing my name and his last name together and planning the wedding. Just kidding, I know that is totally jumping the gun, but I AM a chick.

Ok, sorry it has been a while....

Well, I have so much to share.

The online dating thing has been very interesting. I have met three people in person. The cowboy/rodeo clown, a psycho ex-cop, and a guy who works in the oil industry who likes conspiracy theories. But not to the extent of Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory. Because that would be UNattractive, and this guy is kind of attractive. Actually really attractive.

Squirrel Dater is getting mad at me for taking them all to the same restaurant, but I figure how are you supposed to weigh the people if you don't make all the variables the same? Of course, the waitresses give me extra great service because I am bringing in heaps of new business. And so far none of them have outted me.

So, the new guy is making me feel a bit twitterpated. I need a nickname for him. Is Liquid Chocolate Eyes too weird? Our date lasted from 7:00pm until 3:30 am the next morning, and all I got was a hug out of the deal. We sat at dinner until the restaurant closed and then went to my house (unprecedented thus far in the online dating experience) and watched Slumdog Millionaire (awesome show) and then watched and made fun of videos on Much Music Retro.

And then...he hugged me.

And I don't mind saying I got the tingles. He tolerated my dog, was interesting and funny for 8 hours and was totally respectful. And he has been texting me ever since. So...dare I hope that this actually might be something? I am going out for coffee today with a guy who, from his pictures, may very well be an albino, but to be honest, my heart isn't in it today, and if I hadn't promised, I would not be going. He seems a little over-invested already, and I have bad memories of the Elf beginning in this fashion.

In other news, Bob got beat up by a Canada Goose and is still struggling with Post-Traumatic Goose Disorder. He got stuck halfway under the deck chasing a cat. And he managed to make a complete ass of himself with Liquid Chocolate Eyes for about 2 of the 5 hours that Liquid Chocolate Eyes was in my residence.

Thank Goddess that is over....

Well, my manslaughter prelim didn't complete - the defence is now going to call a witness that will likely sewer my entire case. Oh well - I have no control over the evidence.

So, remember in my Erotic Dreams post I posted that I had some dreams about a cop? Well that cop has since moved, but had to come back to town for this prelim. And I admit, there may have been some mildly flirty emails back and forth leading up to his appearance back here in this town. Nothing remotely dirty, just some compliments on how amazingly brilliant we both were. He is in plainclothes doing major crimes work, despite being only 32 years old. I will dub him CC Secret Squirrel. And he is MARRIED. Ergo it would be a big mistake to go down that CCSS Road. Big time!!!

So I may have started having those dreams about him again. Which made it....incredibly AWKWARD to see him again. He made a huge point of getting me to block off some evening time to prep him for his testimony (the only police officer who did this). Which of course, intensified the dreams, fantasies and the dirty thoughts, despite my best efforts otherwise.

It culminated in his appearance at my house on the second night of the prelim. He stepped in and looked yummy. For you psychology types, I will admit that he looks kind of like my father when he was young, and that my attraction to him might be some twisted Oedipal thing. But we will save that for another day.

So he comes in, Bob the Dog is his typical asshole self, and we dash off to a restaurant here in town. Things are sufficiently cozy that our waiter asked if I wanted to finish CC Secret Squirrel's mushrooms. Apparently it did not look like a business meeting, despite the fact that at no time did we touch.

So we get back to my house, where the file is. I put on some sweats. I give us each a beer. I try to stop my 92 pound dog from crawling into his lap. And we work for about an hour.

At the end, he sticks around and we talk about life in general. At this point he mentions his wife sufficiently often that I feel almost not AWKWARD. Almost.

So he drains his beer - it's 1130 at this point. He gets up, I walk him to the door and maintain a 5 foot distance while he puts on his shoes. We say goodbye.

The next day it is all business, he starts his testimony, and that night he goes out for beers with the boys while I work my ass off on a brief for the next day. The next day he comes to court bright and early with possibly the ugliest tie and shirt combo I have seen in a while. It doesn't matter. When I look at him on the stand as I am leading his evidence, I am experiencing some major electrical shocks in the region of my hooha. I think, though, that I covered it pretty darn well.

He winds up his testimony. I am out of witnesses for the morning. My chief cop, who is not nearly as yummy and has a porn stash, suggests we all go for pancakes. CC Secret Squirrel bolts towards the door and mentions he has a meeting with another prosecutor in a city about 4 hours away from here. Since he couldn't have known that his testimony would be done by that time, I have to think he made that up. But he dashes towards the door, and looks back, and in that moment it looks like he might hug me right there in the courthouse. So I step back and give him a little finger wave and wish him a safe journey.

Crisis averted right?

So I open up the local newspaper the next morning, and there is a picture of CC Secret Squirrel in red serge giving someone in another town an award. I can't express to you how improbable this is. Suffice it to say there was no logical reason for this sighting.

I don't get it. So back I go to the online dating website, looking for someone single, but like CC Secret Squirrel. I am still scratching my head over the whole situation, but know that what happened (or what didn't happened) was the right thing. Maybe, as I ease into my 40s, I am starting to back away from the bonehead choices. Maybe I am still mourning the loss, such as it was, of the Tricky Man. At any rate, spring is here, and my libido is sub par, and I am content to spend my Saturday night playing Wii with a co-worker and her 8-year-old daughter.

Damn cops.