So I finally, FINALLY hung out with Guitardbot. He got back from tour last week, and then I had an out-of-town gig over the Thursday through Saturday. Sunday night, we met up at the bar, ate poutine, drank cider (me) and IPA (him...at least, I think it was IPA), wandered around, went to Cafe Hipster al Fuckwad (you know, the one with all the movie and TV merchandise from the 80s and 90s to make twenty- and thirty-somethings nostalgic for their spoiled-white-kid childhoods parked in front of the idiot box? That one?), drank a vanilla latte (him) and a peppermint tea (me), walked around a little, went to his place, sat on the couch and talked about books, smoked in the yard, sat on the couch again, talked about books some more...aaaaaand then...I very, very awkwardly mentioned that I wanted to kiss him. Which I had actually been wanting to do for about five hours, at that point. Turns out there was a reason I wanted to kiss (and do other things with) him. That reason was...awesomeness.
So, yes. I totally failed at taking my time, showing restraint, following "The Rules", and thinking with my brain rather than my junk, but whatever. I got all my homework done and THEN went and fooled around with someone I'd just met in real life, despite having known them on the interwebs for nearly four months.
There are many messy overshares I could engage in here, but I think it's time to go to sleep. It's nice when someone turns out to be as rad as you suspected they were.
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