It's been a whirlwind weekend. When I came home on Saturday I was dreading the silence of the empty house and I was torn between wanting to go out or to climb into my bed and sleep for 100 hours. Let's just say if John and I continue to keep this pace, I will be ready for bikini season faster than I ever imagined possible!

Going out won out, of course. T came and picked me up and we went on down to the FQB for E's birthday.We're all hanging out having a good time when I look over and see...John. It was a little weird going from being the only two people in the world for 24 hours and super intimate to trying to maintain composure for both of our groups of friends. Particularly for Tony, who's still suffering and whining about my invasion into his inner circle of friends...because if I invade it, I bring T and Chelle with me, and T broke his 'wittle' heart back in the day, I don't think he has a problem with Chelle, and who would?

Anyways, after a weird little struggle not to smother each other, we'd make quick contact and then run away from each other back to our friends (we talked about it later and we were both paranoid that we were going to look too clingy...god we're nerds). I finally sent him a text message from my side of the bar that said, "Hey...wanna go make out in the bathroom?" Seconds later I received one back that said, "Meet ya there."

So we smooched for a little in the bathroom, discussed our fear of smothering and then he said that he was going to be heading to a party and that I could come if I wanted or I could stay at E's birthday party, either way he would make it back to my house later. I decided to just hang with my friends and let him do his thing, because hey, I was going to see him later right?? And at this stage in our newly formed alliance, our life is now chock full of sex and deep conversations...I figured a little light hearted banter could be fun with my girls who keep saying that they're going to be "orphaned".

Well he never made it back to my house. I got lots of drunken text messages where I finally figured out that he was at a party...somewhere...somewhere where he didn't know where he was...but he knew people there...and that he was wrestled to the ground by a girl who was stepping on his windpipe...and that he was drinking a lot of Absinthe for the first time (oh boy).

So the next day at around one I received a text message saying, "Sorry I never made it back...I didn't even know where I was. Is it ok if I come over before I head back to the city? I really wanted to spend more time with you and your friends last night, I really wanted you to come with me to the party." So I told him to come over, he attempted to sit and stay sober so that he could make it home for football with his roommate, but he caved when he saw T drinking enormous glass of Bloody Mary as I did work for work. It was a short trip back to Drunkville for my dear boy. Within two of my "famous" (I've made about three in my life before the gazillion I made yesterday) Bloody Marys, my 6'1" 260 lb boyfriend (he's working on the weight right now, but he's still pretty sexy to me) became a rambling idiot. He sang a fabulous rendition of "Don't Stop Believing" to T and I (remember, we're big fans of the song) running around using a remote as a make shift microphone. After games of Catchphrase and singing tons of songs we decided that the best move for us all to do would be to go to the bar...so we packed up in the vehicle and headed down to the FQB.

Ordering food and beer, John leans over, "What do you think about meeting me in the bathroom?" I gave him a wink, hopped off my barstool and headed into the ladies' room. He quickly followed behind me and locked the door. The look on his face made me realize that I wouldn't just be smooching this time...Within seconds pants were dropped but a few seconds after the fun began, someone knocks on the door. Damn! We quickly pull our pants up, he puts his glasses back on and smoothes my hair back down. Chagrinned, we ducked out of the bathroom, one after the other and avoided making eye contact with the toe tapping, arms folded princess who was obviously put out by our antics.

Now, because we kind of had a teaser both of us were feeling like something needed to be done about this. The solution? Why, the back seat of the car in the parking lot, of course!! Damn, I'm a classy gal, you don't even need to tell me!! Operation Quickie was a success and so I walked back into the bar. I thought we were slick...I sit back on my stool to talk to T (who did know the deal) and I hear, "Hey Melina...you've got a little white spot on your face!" and I knew I didn't so I just made a face at the guy like I was five and said, "I don't even know what you're talking about." There were about three or four other comments from other heckling men, less crass but just making a point of asking me where I went and where John was, etc. (jealous boys...) until John walked back in the door--then the jerks shut up!! So I told him, "Hey we weren't as slick as we thought we were..." and he had a little devious grin on his face and said, "Good, then they know who you're with, and they know that we like each other!" and then he leaned over and gave me a kiss on my forehead.

Many shots later, beer upon beer for those two and a belly full of pulled pork for me, we headed for home. T was trashed and John was pretty drunk as well...I was fine because I knew that I had to get up at 6:20 this morning. However, I didn't realize that although I got everyone home by 12, that I wouldn't get to go to sleep until 2, damn boy kept me up forever! My ass is dragging today, but I use thoughts of last night to keep me going.