Sunday, February 20, 2005

Dirty Fingernails

I am in love with a man I have known for two and a half weeks. He is tall, beautiful and an incredible kisser. I can't stop thinking about him. Gino owns a restaurant, he's 6'3 and an ex professional baseball player. The first time we met, we spent the entire weekend alone and cuddled. Since then, I have had more contact with him and more of a understanding of who he is. He is so considerate, compassionate and caring. When we're together, money is the furthest thing from my mind, it just feels so right. I can see myself with this man for a long time and I think he feels the same about me. But I've only known the guy for two weeks so I'm trying to take it as slow as my over complicated psyche will allow..

A friend told me
"If you find someone you're passionate about and you can accept their faults then that's love."

BIG NEWS, I got another job! One that I actually enjoy and pays better than most of the jobs I've had. A big plus is that I come in contact with well to do men on a daily basis and it is in a industry that I hope to master.
I went out with Emir sometime ago, before Gino. We met at a mutually convenient location, a gas station. It was a Sunday night so we had very few options to choose from but finally settled on a local nightclub. As the night progressed, certain things about him rubbed me the wrong way, primarily his sleazy part french part Italian accent and the way my name rolled sloppily off his tongue. After the bar we went to a hole in the wall restaurant to sober up before heading home and during our late night snack I glanced at his hands and blanched. There was a layer of black dirt under his fingernails! I immediately lost my appetite; I looked at my watch and suggested we get going. Once he dropped me off at my car, I sped off in the opposite direction and have been ignoring his calls since.

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