Spending time with D, I have diagnosed, proves to be dangerous to my health and well being. I become, not only giddy, but exceptionally hyper in his presence - and as a result, I also turn into the lout of all time. I could possibly win the klutz award of the year and get featured on Guinness Book of World Records as the official face of loutness, if I don't die from injuries beforehand.

List of last night's brushes with death:
1) Burnt my thumb from touching the 100 watt lamp.
2) Nearly fell off the ladder, which I was using for leverage since D is so handsomely tall.
3) Bruised both knees, because I was on them for hours! Sounds so naughty, I know. But actually, there is only one chair in the little computer room and the couch is too far from the desk, so he sat on the chair while I was on my knees. What a gentleman, NOT. (I told him to take the chair. He was, after all, my guest.) Oh the things we endure for l... Gosh, I was about to say love. And it's not love. It's just like. I think.

Other than the fact that I was a complete fool in front of him last night, the photoshoot went quite well. I think he was a little afraid of my camera. I like to get close to the subjects I shoot, and I possibly breached his comfort zone. But by the end of the night, he loosened up and started flirting into my lens with his eyes. The memory of the intensity of those eyes takes my breath away. I was melting.

And my favorite shots of the night are:


Yum.


Yum²


Yum³ * This was THE shot of the evening, well for me anyway. He favored some other shot with his hat on. That smile should be illegal in most states.

My only regret? I did not crank up the flirt module.

*Note: I post these pictures because I am confident that he knows nothing of my secret e-life as a blogger.

And to make things complicated, H decided to drop by as D and I were hanging out. I had borrowed a taped copy of Nip/Tuck and Prison Break, which his roommate wanted to watch. It was a bit awkward when I stepped outside on the front lawn to give him the tape. He asked whose Scion was parked in the driveway. I wove a web of lies, but I think he knew. My brother watched through the window, laughing at me, saying I was "busted." Punk.

Busted for what? I was not doing anything wrong! But the fact that I have to clarify this in writing affirms that I feel a tinge of guilt. Why is a relationship with an ex so difficult to maintain? Duh, because that relationship should be non-existent in the first place.

Despite this drama, I'm ok. Actually, I'm more than OK! I'm floating. As a thank you, D said we will be going out for drinks. Giddyness and alcohol together will produce a combustible, yet blogworthy night. Let's just hope I don't set fire to anything.

Labels: The Progression of D