Sunday, May 16, 2004
shameless...
Yes, I was a wee bit on the shameless side last night. But before I get to that portion of the evening, I'll recount a little more of the weekend thus far.
Friday: no Douglas Adams Celebration. *pout* I ended up being stuck at work until after 5:30pm, which means I missed all of the buses that would have gotten me to Glendale at a decent time. And by the time I was done with work I was exhausted, so the prospect of being on the bus for 1 1/2 hours was not looking appealing. Instead I called the host to let him know I wouldn't be showing up and took Sarriah up on her offer to hang out with her. NewYorkWriter was in the showroom helping me get stuff ready for a vendor show in Anaheim this Wednesday, and she lives close to Sarriah, so she was sweet enough to drop me off. Hanging out, watching Deep Space Nine and coffee near my place commenced thusly.
Saturday: there were issues in the morning. 1) The pants that I wanted to wear were at the dry-cleaners and they weren't quite ready when I went to pick them up at 7:30am. The cleaner rushed to finish them because I was obviously upset, though I remained in control. As I walked home from the cleaners the first time I was on the verge of tears because it looked like my fabulous nerdriffic weekend was on the verge of falling apart, between missing the Douglas Adams Celebration, the Pants Issue, and concern about getting to breakfast in La Crescenta to meet some folks before the JPL Open House. Boychik had been having car problems, so we were supposed to be picked up by a friend, but his friend hadn't been in contact and he has a history of flaking and not communicating. I got my wonderfully cool pants, but as I was finishing my morning ablutions Boychik called - his friend never called and was half an hour late, and, because the Open House means a lot to him, Boychik was going to risk driving his car (the axel boot was torn, but the grease hadn't dried out yet, so he was still okay to drive - so far) despite having had only two hours of sleep.
(BTW, I was able to wear the pants I so desperately wanted to wear - yea!)
Boychik and I made our way to the restaurant, met three people that were part of the group we were supposed to meet, but the one person that I already knew didn't show up. There was another group that looked likely that the three people hadn't approached, so we went over to ask if they were on their way to JPL. They answered in the affirmative, but they weren't part of the group we were supposed to meet. They invited us and the other three to join them anyway, so we did. We talked with the JPL fella sitting next to me and some of the other folks. They actually left about 20 minutes after we sat down, after Boychik and I had ordered, but the usual, "Hope to see you at JPL," was uttered, Boychik and I had our breakfasts (most yummy) and, as we asked for the check, we were informed that our food had been paid for by the people we had joined.
I think Boychik and I stared at each other for a few moments in disbelief, wishing they were still there so we could properly thank them, then hoping we did run into them at JPL so we could thank them properly. We never did run into them.
On to JPL we went, with its crazy parking and busing from remote lots. We walked around, checked out exhibits, spoke with a few JPL folks as Boychik took down names (Boychik may say something about me possibly flirting just a little bit with one of the JPL fellas, but that's just a vicious truth he's trying to spread). It was great geeky fun. Towards the end of the Open House we watched film clips about the launching of the Mars Rovers and difficulties that had to be overcome in creating parachute and air bags. Short as the clips were, I was right with the scientists and engineers as they waited for the rovers to land safely. Even though I knew they had, my heart still fluttered in anticipation and tears sprung to my eyes when they all cheered. And in watching the trials and failures of the landing gear, my heart just dropped. It was very affecting.
So, after the Open House, we went to the home of RockerChick and UPSGuy for a Pasta Party (that had absolutely nothing to do with UPSGuy's birthday and don't you dare think it did!). I grabbed a Guinness, a little bruschetta and chatted with RockerChick for a bit. Soon afterwards CuteNerdBoy showed up. Hugs and greetings were exchanged, pasta and drinks were gotten, and the evening was underway in earnest.
Lots of laughter, lots of conversation. CuteNerdBoy was a good boy, having only one glass of wine at the beginning of the evening, then drinking soda and water after that. Not surprisingly, I was not so good. I had five drinks over the course of the evening, and was definitely into drunk territory (though I was hardly at my drunkest - I have a pretty high tolerance to alcohol).
Though he tried to resist it, CuteNerdBoy was seduced by the siren call of the pinball machine. He, Boychik and I played many games. I won only one, and refrained from sucking utterly only a couple of times. Despite having not played Addams Family pinball for many years, CuteNerdBoy proceeded to kick the asses of both Boychik and myself.
And where did the shameless part come in? Not surprisingly, it began with the pinball machine. I started out innocently enough, just leaning close to the machine, trying to distract CuteNerdBoy with my cleavage but thinking I should maybe just rein myself in a bit. But as the alcohol flowed and, more to the point, CuteNerdBoy mentioned my efforts at distraction were working (though, as high as those points were being racked, I wondered), I leaned closer to him, closer to the machine, making sure I didn't actually block the field of play but staying within his sight. And the cleavage progressed lower and lower until there were a few moments where only careful arranging kept my nipples from making an appearance. I tried to go a little further, warning him that I could be very bad, then proceeding slip my hands around his waist. That was a distraction he didn't want, so I quickly backed off.
On top of the X-treme Cleavage Event one of the guests, who shall be referred to as MissExuberant, was asked to show the remaining guests (maybe eight or so) the moves she had learned at her hip-hop dance classes. Hip-hop music was put on and she displayed her most impressive moves, as she loves attention and is, indeed, quite exuberant. However, RockerChick refused to let her stop. She got bored with being up there all by herself, so she tried to encourage someone to join her. Everyone declined, until she told me to join her, as I was off to the side, unable to entirely keep from moving to the music. And because I'd had a few drinks and I also love attention, I agreed. I was a little reluctant, because I know I can't follow choreography and I'm uncertain about my ability to dance hip-hop, but what the hell! I was drunk.
The first move went well, but the second I couldn't quite pick up, so I stopped. But later MissExuberant and I were chatting in the living room and I started moving to the music again. Next thing I knew I was busting into some rather impressive dance moves myself.
"You can dance!" proclaimed MissExuberant.
"I know," I responded. "I'm a very good dancer, I just can't follow choreography. And I can't hip-hop dance."
"Oh yes, you can. I hate to tell you, but that was a hip-hop move you just did. You don't need any lessons from me."
She dashed over to CuteNerdBoy, who at this point was observing a pinball game. "Did you see that move she just did? Man, she's a good dancer. Carol can move!"
He nodded and laughed and answered affirmative to all of her questions and statements. Not surprisingly, that was all it took for me to start full-on dancing. And let me tell ya, this big girl can move. I accidentally knocked over someone's drink while they were trying to pass me (which stopped the dancing for a time - I tend to close my eyes when dancing or singing, so I'm not distracted, but that's not always a good thing), but otherwise the dancing was most positive, even when I slipped, fell on my ass and turned it into a dance move ("Carol's break-dancing!" cried MissExuberant).
We ended up leaving before midnight, before the "Truth or Dare" segment of the evening could start. In his van CuteNerdBoy confessed that he didn't think he would have been up for it.
Anyway, it was a great time and I was outrageously shameless towards CuteNerdBoy, even more shameless than I normally am while at a RockerChick/UPSGuy party. I don't regret it at all. I've always known that he appreciates my cleavage, so it was immensely fun letting it all hang out (as it were - okay, just most of it) and watching him enjoy it for what it was.
But I've really got to start backing off a bit, I think. Hey, if he was still able to exhibit self-control last night, with nothing more than the traditional long hug and little kisses as we parted, then there's not much more I can do. I mean, I wasn't expressly looking to seduce the man last night by putting my breasts on display. I was just going with the moment, doing what I felt like doing without putting too much thought into it, for once. Doesn't mean I wouldn't have welcomed a little sumpin'-sumpin' if CuteNerdBoy had been driven over the edge by my prominent bosoms almost constantly in his face.
Besides, at this point, the only person I seem to be driving completely crazy is myself. If I'm driving him crazy he certainly hides it well, but I don't know if I can take it much longer.
Oh, I know that if I had someone in my life, I wouldn't be so shameless, so out there. All this intense sexual, physical, romantic energy I have pent up would be directed at that one person, instead of flying scattershot or shooting directly at poor CuteNerdBoy. And since he's the guy I have feelings for, even if we're not romantically involved, he gets the brunt of it.
I know I've said this before, and I'll try my best to keep to it this time, but - friends. CuteNerdBoy and I are just good friends. That may be all we'll ever be, so I've got to start acting like that. Pure and simple.
If only it were that simple...
Friday: no Douglas Adams Celebration. *pout* I ended up being stuck at work until after 5:30pm, which means I missed all of the buses that would have gotten me to Glendale at a decent time. And by the time I was done with work I was exhausted, so the prospect of being on the bus for 1 1/2 hours was not looking appealing. Instead I called the host to let him know I wouldn't be showing up and took Sarriah up on her offer to hang out with her. NewYorkWriter was in the showroom helping me get stuff ready for a vendor show in Anaheim this Wednesday, and she lives close to Sarriah, so she was sweet enough to drop me off. Hanging out, watching Deep Space Nine and coffee near my place commenced thusly.
Saturday: there were issues in the morning. 1) The pants that I wanted to wear were at the dry-cleaners and they weren't quite ready when I went to pick them up at 7:30am. The cleaner rushed to finish them because I was obviously upset, though I remained in control. As I walked home from the cleaners the first time I was on the verge of tears because it looked like my fabulous nerdriffic weekend was on the verge of falling apart, between missing the Douglas Adams Celebration, the Pants Issue, and concern about getting to breakfast in La Crescenta to meet some folks before the JPL Open House. Boychik had been having car problems, so we were supposed to be picked up by a friend, but his friend hadn't been in contact and he has a history of flaking and not communicating. I got my wonderfully cool pants, but as I was finishing my morning ablutions Boychik called - his friend never called and was half an hour late, and, because the Open House means a lot to him, Boychik was going to risk driving his car (the axel boot was torn, but the grease hadn't dried out yet, so he was still okay to drive - so far) despite having had only two hours of sleep.
(BTW, I was able to wear the pants I so desperately wanted to wear - yea!)
Boychik and I made our way to the restaurant, met three people that were part of the group we were supposed to meet, but the one person that I already knew didn't show up. There was another group that looked likely that the three people hadn't approached, so we went over to ask if they were on their way to JPL. They answered in the affirmative, but they weren't part of the group we were supposed to meet. They invited us and the other three to join them anyway, so we did. We talked with the JPL fella sitting next to me and some of the other folks. They actually left about 20 minutes after we sat down, after Boychik and I had ordered, but the usual, "Hope to see you at JPL," was uttered, Boychik and I had our breakfasts (most yummy) and, as we asked for the check, we were informed that our food had been paid for by the people we had joined.
I think Boychik and I stared at each other for a few moments in disbelief, wishing they were still there so we could properly thank them, then hoping we did run into them at JPL so we could thank them properly. We never did run into them.
On to JPL we went, with its crazy parking and busing from remote lots. We walked around, checked out exhibits, spoke with a few JPL folks as Boychik took down names (Boychik may say something about me possibly flirting just a little bit with one of the JPL fellas, but that's just a vicious truth he's trying to spread). It was great geeky fun. Towards the end of the Open House we watched film clips about the launching of the Mars Rovers and difficulties that had to be overcome in creating parachute and air bags. Short as the clips were, I was right with the scientists and engineers as they waited for the rovers to land safely. Even though I knew they had, my heart still fluttered in anticipation and tears sprung to my eyes when they all cheered. And in watching the trials and failures of the landing gear, my heart just dropped. It was very affecting.
So, after the Open House, we went to the home of RockerChick and UPSGuy for a Pasta Party (that had absolutely nothing to do with UPSGuy's birthday and don't you dare think it did!). I grabbed a Guinness, a little bruschetta and chatted with RockerChick for a bit. Soon afterwards CuteNerdBoy showed up. Hugs and greetings were exchanged, pasta and drinks were gotten, and the evening was underway in earnest.
Lots of laughter, lots of conversation. CuteNerdBoy was a good boy, having only one glass of wine at the beginning of the evening, then drinking soda and water after that. Not surprisingly, I was not so good. I had five drinks over the course of the evening, and was definitely into drunk territory (though I was hardly at my drunkest - I have a pretty high tolerance to alcohol).
Though he tried to resist it, CuteNerdBoy was seduced by the siren call of the pinball machine. He, Boychik and I played many games. I won only one, and refrained from sucking utterly only a couple of times. Despite having not played Addams Family pinball for many years, CuteNerdBoy proceeded to kick the asses of both Boychik and myself.
And where did the shameless part come in? Not surprisingly, it began with the pinball machine. I started out innocently enough, just leaning close to the machine, trying to distract CuteNerdBoy with my cleavage but thinking I should maybe just rein myself in a bit. But as the alcohol flowed and, more to the point, CuteNerdBoy mentioned my efforts at distraction were working (though, as high as those points were being racked, I wondered), I leaned closer to him, closer to the machine, making sure I didn't actually block the field of play but staying within his sight. And the cleavage progressed lower and lower until there were a few moments where only careful arranging kept my nipples from making an appearance. I tried to go a little further, warning him that I could be very bad, then proceeding slip my hands around his waist. That was a distraction he didn't want, so I quickly backed off.
On top of the X-treme Cleavage Event one of the guests, who shall be referred to as MissExuberant, was asked to show the remaining guests (maybe eight or so) the moves she had learned at her hip-hop dance classes. Hip-hop music was put on and she displayed her most impressive moves, as she loves attention and is, indeed, quite exuberant. However, RockerChick refused to let her stop. She got bored with being up there all by herself, so she tried to encourage someone to join her. Everyone declined, until she told me to join her, as I was off to the side, unable to entirely keep from moving to the music. And because I'd had a few drinks and I also love attention, I agreed. I was a little reluctant, because I know I can't follow choreography and I'm uncertain about my ability to dance hip-hop, but what the hell! I was drunk.
The first move went well, but the second I couldn't quite pick up, so I stopped. But later MissExuberant and I were chatting in the living room and I started moving to the music again. Next thing I knew I was busting into some rather impressive dance moves myself.
"You can dance!" proclaimed MissExuberant.
"I know," I responded. "I'm a very good dancer, I just can't follow choreography. And I can't hip-hop dance."
"Oh yes, you can. I hate to tell you, but that was a hip-hop move you just did. You don't need any lessons from me."
She dashed over to CuteNerdBoy, who at this point was observing a pinball game. "Did you see that move she just did? Man, she's a good dancer. Carol can move!"
He nodded and laughed and answered affirmative to all of her questions and statements. Not surprisingly, that was all it took for me to start full-on dancing. And let me tell ya, this big girl can move. I accidentally knocked over someone's drink while they were trying to pass me (which stopped the dancing for a time - I tend to close my eyes when dancing or singing, so I'm not distracted, but that's not always a good thing), but otherwise the dancing was most positive, even when I slipped, fell on my ass and turned it into a dance move ("Carol's break-dancing!" cried MissExuberant).
We ended up leaving before midnight, before the "Truth or Dare" segment of the evening could start. In his van CuteNerdBoy confessed that he didn't think he would have been up for it.
Anyway, it was a great time and I was outrageously shameless towards CuteNerdBoy, even more shameless than I normally am while at a RockerChick/UPSGuy party. I don't regret it at all. I've always known that he appreciates my cleavage, so it was immensely fun letting it all hang out (as it were - okay, just most of it) and watching him enjoy it for what it was.
But I've really got to start backing off a bit, I think. Hey, if he was still able to exhibit self-control last night, with nothing more than the traditional long hug and little kisses as we parted, then there's not much more I can do. I mean, I wasn't expressly looking to seduce the man last night by putting my breasts on display. I was just going with the moment, doing what I felt like doing without putting too much thought into it, for once. Doesn't mean I wouldn't have welcomed a little sumpin'-sumpin' if CuteNerdBoy had been driven over the edge by my prominent bosoms almost constantly in his face.
Besides, at this point, the only person I seem to be driving completely crazy is myself. If I'm driving him crazy he certainly hides it well, but I don't know if I can take it much longer.
Oh, I know that if I had someone in my life, I wouldn't be so shameless, so out there. All this intense sexual, physical, romantic energy I have pent up would be directed at that one person, instead of flying scattershot or shooting directly at poor CuteNerdBoy. And since he's the guy I have feelings for, even if we're not romantically involved, he gets the brunt of it.
I know I've said this before, and I'll try my best to keep to it this time, but - friends. CuteNerdBoy and I are just good friends. That may be all we'll ever be, so I've got to start acting like that. Pure and simple.
If only it were that simple...
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