Obviously, I don't update this much. Check out my hub for more up-to-date posts.
Rawk.
-terryl
15 February 2010
23 September 2009
sometimes...
...men are wonderful.
My pilot, Big, really, really likes Incubus. Scratch that. He LOVES Incubus.
I LOVE Dave Matthews Band.
Big doesn't like Dave. Thanks to music-sharing friends, I've had Incubus on my iPod for a long time, but never ever listened to them, because I've never particularly liked them.
I just never connected with their music.
Over the last few months, I have consciously been listening to Incubus, because when something makes someone feel the way their favorite band does, it gets ME excited about that emotion-stirrer, whatever it may be. And, over the last few months, I have really learned to like Incubus quite a bit. I would even say I *love* Incubus.
Now. I don't love Incubus the way I love Dave. But I now go out of my way to listen to them often.
You get the idea.
Big knows this. I'll text him lyrics, compel him finish them, that kind of thing. Actually, once, I texted him, "I lean against the wind, pretend that I am weightless. And in this moment, I am happy," to which he replied with the next few lines: "Happy. I wish you were here. I wish you were here."
I said something about how I manipulatively trick him into saying these things, and he replies, "See, you only think you're tricking me into saying that."
*melt* Right?
He goes to an Incubus concert, calls me from it, and holds the telephone so I can hear him singing along with the band. He dedicated songs played by his all-time favorite band to me. He thought to call me during the concert of his dreams.
Pretty cool.
So I'm on Big's facebook profile today, and I see Dave Matthews Band lyrics in a status update.
I'm sorry, what?
We happened to be talking online at the time, so I ask him if he's been listening to Dave Matthews lately. He says yes, and that he told his sister (who is a huge Dave fan, bless her heart) that she has to take him to a concert next time the band comes through Atlanta or Charleston.
I told him, "I'm going to go ahead and just tell myself you're listening to Dave for reasons parallel to the reason I started listening to Incubus. I'm just going to go ahead and tell myself that."
See, I always try to give him the opening to be sweet if I'm reading him correctly, but not make him feel obligated to dishonestly tell me it's what I'm thinking, if I'm not reading him correctly.
But. Sure enough, he replies, "Yep. That's actually the reason why."
*melt*
Actually, I literally typed "(faint)" to him haha. I'm never shy about telling him when he renders me defenseless. He knows exactly what to say, and because he doesn't say 'it' often enough--in my female-minded opinion, of course--I always make sure to let him know I appreciate the letting-down of the drawbridge on occasion to let me into the warmth of the kingdom.
It made me feel pretty good :)
He took my cues of taking interest in HIS interests, and silently reciprocated, letting me realize it on my own.
Sometimes...men are wonderful.
My pilot, Big, really, really likes Incubus. Scratch that. He LOVES Incubus.
I LOVE Dave Matthews Band.
Big doesn't like Dave. Thanks to music-sharing friends, I've had Incubus on my iPod for a long time, but never ever listened to them, because I've never particularly liked them.
I just never connected with their music.
Over the last few months, I have consciously been listening to Incubus, because when something makes someone feel the way their favorite band does, it gets ME excited about that emotion-stirrer, whatever it may be. And, over the last few months, I have really learned to like Incubus quite a bit. I would even say I *love* Incubus.
Now. I don't love Incubus the way I love Dave. But I now go out of my way to listen to them often.
You get the idea.
Big knows this. I'll text him lyrics, compel him finish them, that kind of thing. Actually, once, I texted him, "I lean against the wind, pretend that I am weightless. And in this moment, I am happy," to which he replied with the next few lines: "Happy. I wish you were here. I wish you were here."
I said something about how I manipulatively trick him into saying these things, and he replies, "See, you only think you're tricking me into saying that."
*melt* Right?
He goes to an Incubus concert, calls me from it, and holds the telephone so I can hear him singing along with the band. He dedicated songs played by his all-time favorite band to me. He thought to call me during the concert of his dreams.
Pretty cool.
So I'm on Big's facebook profile today, and I see Dave Matthews Band lyrics in a status update.
I'm sorry, what?
We happened to be talking online at the time, so I ask him if he's been listening to Dave Matthews lately. He says yes, and that he told his sister (who is a huge Dave fan, bless her heart) that she has to take him to a concert next time the band comes through Atlanta or Charleston.
I told him, "I'm going to go ahead and just tell myself you're listening to Dave for reasons parallel to the reason I started listening to Incubus. I'm just going to go ahead and tell myself that."
See, I always try to give him the opening to be sweet if I'm reading him correctly, but not make him feel obligated to dishonestly tell me it's what I'm thinking, if I'm not reading him correctly.
But. Sure enough, he replies, "Yep. That's actually the reason why."
*melt*
Actually, I literally typed "(faint)" to him haha. I'm never shy about telling him when he renders me defenseless. He knows exactly what to say, and because he doesn't say 'it' often enough--in my female-minded opinion, of course--I always make sure to let him know I appreciate the letting-down of the drawbridge on occasion to let me into the warmth of the kingdom.
It made me feel pretty good :)
He took my cues of taking interest in HIS interests, and silently reciprocated, letting me realize it on my own.
Sometimes...men are wonderful.
supermarket seduction
I play a little game...often. When I catch a man staring at me (in the grocery, the Bucks, wherever), I pretend not to notice. And I secretly watch him watching me as he pretends to be lost, circling and doubling-back over the produce section he's already scanned twice, waiting for me to look at him.
It's not going to happen, sir. I'll just continue to look preoccupied with my shopping, stretching on my tip-toes perhaps a little more than necessary to reach the oranges at the top of the stand.
It's not going to happen, sir. I'll just continue to look preoccupied with my shopping, stretching on my tip-toes perhaps a little more than necessary to reach the oranges at the top of the stand.
You're welcome. You're not sneaking peeks as sneakily as you think.
But it's not like I'm not playing along a little bit.
supermarket seduction.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
