Well, after a four month hiatus from attempting to get anyone into my bed, heart or life, last night I got someone into my bed. He's T's old roommate from when she lived in the city and he was perfect because we don't see him that often, he's adorable and he was excellent in bed. Score one for me!
How it happened was so incredibly odd...T ended up going home with a long time friend of hers that last night, for some reason, decided to profess love for her and she proceded to profess her own smitteness. So because she wanted to go home with him, Mike had to take me home (he was planning on taking us both home and staying at my house). We came back to my house and started drinking wine...I blame the wine really...actually, I thank the wine. Here's where it gets funny.
I start getting tired. I tell him, "You can sleep in my bed with me because the guest bed is really small." Ha ha, ha...what kind of line is that??? I have six couches in my house and my guest bed isn't that small. So anyways, within minutes we started making out which was my plan...then I went with the rest of it.
This morning was a train wreck though, he was a little out of sorts (he kind of was seeing someone that he said that he was ending things with...) so I think he was feeling guilty, and definitely hungover...and when I saw myself in the mirror, I didn't blame him for wanting to leave! I looked awful. My hair was sticking up every which way, I had bloodshot eyes, mascara under them...it was a true testament for a morning after look. I quickly locked myself in the bathroom and made a quick repair of things--hair in a ponytail, washed the face and put a little visine in my eyes and when I came back out he audibly breathed a sigh of relief. Too funny. He left and I went back to bed, exhausted.

I have to say, that was the best Christmas present I could've given myself...I've been going too long worrying about behaving and acting my age or whatever, but, this is what I do best--and it works for me.