In which I repent at leisure.

DAD: Let's hang out. This is my fifth time saying it.

ME: Surely!

PHONE: *RRRRRIIINNNNGGG*

ME: Who could that be? Perhaps tis Wallace the Long Winded, in which case I should ignore.

Inwardly I know it could be JC, who got my number earlier that day, but it's like 10:30 at night. Why the hell would he call me at this hour to discuss his work schedule and set up a session?

Answer? He wouldn't. Isn't. OMG HE LOVES ME *hyperventilate*

I look at the caller ID and sure enough it reads yet another of my nicknames for him, names I've chosen in order to keep from having to say this guy's very boring real name to myself and others.

I pick up, with MAXIMUM phone voice. (People tell me my phone voice brings the dead to life and instantly soothes any crying infant within a mile radius. HELL yes.)

It works too... he seems into it.

"Just wanted to make sure you saved me in your phone. You know who this is?"

After I was just congratulating myself that we didn't have to use his dumb name.

He starts going into all this stuff that I can't even remember right now, because I have trouble believing a word he says. Everything that comes out of his mouth is either a line, or a suggestive pause. I hate him, if you really want to know the truth. But I am also attracted to him.

He said all the right things, things I wanted to hear. Unbelievable crap about wanting to hear my voice and how he's comfortable with me (but minutes later saying I've got him nervous! Retard.) and how about him as a boyfriend???

Throughout the phone call these two thoughts were a loop in my mind:

1) I'm so flattered a smooth-talking retard with muscles is trying to con me.
2) This is ridiculous.

I'm dying to be his friend.

I want him to like hanging out with me, as I thought he did, the few times we met at my work. I was myself, he was himself, and we had fun talk.

I like him a ton.

If he wants me as a girlfriend, I know our differences will be far, far too great. I could be a friend -- A HELLA FUN FRIEND... but maybe my attraction showed too much. And now we're destined to be akward after a few akward dates and phonecalls.

Anyway, I decided to be natural, and do what I want. Hope everything works out.

My plan is to be aggressive in my desire to hang out with him, and hope he's willing to let me do that at my own pace (aka stop trying to move us forward himself).

But most of all, I hate having to look good everyday. We're in different leagues, physically, and keeping up with him is tiring. To complement his "beautiful" I have to be "cute."

The thing is, he doesn't know me. If I no longer look good to him, we'll never have a chance to talk.

I hate him, you know. Did I already say that?