moody meanderings

Went to LKF after Salsa to join in the after-Sevens madness. Had a little bit of madness myself, juggling three "dates" in one night. And that's not counting the friend I went to LKF with and the other bunch of friends I went to meet up. Friend I went with soberly reminded me that I was in real-time and no longer online. How did I plan to juggle three "dates"? Somehow, I managed without dropping a ball.

My night time meals have gone awry. I spend so much time chatting online with sometimes six simultaneous sessions going on, so there's no time to make a proper meal. Last night, it was instant noodles!

No Salsa for me tonight. I am knackered from too many late nights and I have an early start tomorrow.

Had a peek at some of the women listed on the site tonight. Had a chuckle! Even at my own profile. It is really addictive. I tell myself only a few minutes, but minutes turn to hours and before you know it, time has escaped you again. ARGH! I really should get a life! Time for bed. Big weekend. No, I'm not going to the HK Sevens. Didn't find folks to go with. Besides, I'm not drinking so it won't be as fun. Further besides, it's going to be rained out. That's even harder to endure when completely sober. Ok, enough said. Now to bed.

Still on that online dating thing, I think they hide the list of women members from other women members, except for a handful and do likewise with the men. Interesting. They probably figure women don't want their women friends or associates to find out and the same for men.

Well, it is out. The invitations to my little party to celebrate Spring and my twenty-fifth birthday. Haha! Well, you may raise your eyebrow but some people actually believe it. LOL!

Hey, know anyone who got a ticket to Sevens but can't go? Drop me a line. I'm looking for a ticket.

Been loitering around this online dating service I discovered over the weekend and got so caught up in it. It's fascinating, really. There are nearly ten times as many men on the service as there are women! Most of the men are expats while most of the women are local chinese. I got on it more as a voyeur but pretty soon got sucked into this chat or that email. Here's a tip: if you're ever on one of these online services and chance upon someone whom you think you recognise, do not acknowledge him or her. Walk on by. I made that mistake and now, probably ruined our friendship. Hopefully, it's just a case of mistaken identity.

Just back from what was supposed to be a quick bite. I stepped out into Lan Kwai Fong around half past nine, looking for a nibble to satisfy my dinner ritual. I only meant to spend forty-five minutes to an hour, tops. After walking aimlessly up and down D'Aguilar Street, I stopped at Cul de Sac. It was the only place that had a seat at the counter near the sidewalk. I'd just started on my piping hot pizza when two guys sitting at the corner of the counter started to chat with me. They worked for a company distributing educational products for teaching English to non-native English-speaking markets. Interesting. They offered me a job in China. They were quite serious. Funny. I didn't leave CDS until quarter past eleven. On the way home, I stopped by Bitpoint to say 'hey' to a friend and ran into some folks who were at another party I attended two weeks ago. It was the engagement couple and their friends who didn't recognise me until she told them I was the one dancing salsa at the party. And then, I swear, you could see the lights in their heads, or maybe it was their eyes, go on as recognition dawned. So I'm back home at last. Here are some bits and pieces I found amusing while scouring for home news today.

I can understand family feuds and arguments but what does it take for a man to inflict permanent bodily injury to his own flesh and blood? According to this report, a HK politician hired hoodlums to disfigure his daughter and nephew with acid.

In another report, "top gun" officials have been "roped in" to address and resolve the issue of unpatriotic, non child-bearing couples in Singapore. Reminds me of one of Margaret Atwood's disturbing novels, "The Handmaid's Tale". Could it happen to us? Eeks! I shudder at the very thought.

This week started with news of J's engagement. And just as I was starting to deal with that blow, I learned that Sara would be leaving HK on my birthday. For good. I knew she would be leaving soon because her husband, my colleague, is being transferred to our R&D labs in France. What I didn't know was that she was leaving a month before him! After she had a baby last summer, we spent less and less time together because of the demands that motherhood made on her time. We said we would spend more time once he was easier to manage. That time will not come now. If these things come in three's, I guess I should brace myself for another blow.

It's St Paddy's Day. Another excuse to drink copious amounts of beer or ale or lager or whatever, whether you're Irish or not.

I broke my Lenten abstinence and had a few glasses of wine last night. For a couple of hours, I was happily distracted. Then I got home and turned on my computer. As I replaced the wallpaper which was his photo, all hell broke loose. I must have been bawling my eyes out for at least forty-five minutes before I became dizzy and sicked up in the bathroom. I think I passed out for a few minutes. This morning, I woke up to swollen eyes and a giant hangover. My only comfort was a deam I did not want to wake from. In that dream, his bride-to-be was far from bright and a total damsel-in-distress. She wasn't well liked. Best of all, she was caught making long international phone calls to her ex in Italy. Needless to say, I woke up bright and happy.

I'm bawling my eyes out even as I type. I should have expected it but I'm still ill-prepared. I'm never ever going to fall in love again. I'm taking this much harder than I expected. It's also come much sooner than expected. I can't stop the tears. Went out for a few drinks. Broke my lenten abstinence but I'm home and alone and the emotions are just tumbling. Someone, please remind me that I don't want to fall in lovel again. This heartbreak is almost more than I can bear. If there ever was such a thing as a soulmate, he was it. I loved him more than I cared to admit. My heart is broken into irreparable shards. I'm dizzy. And my eyes are all swollen from crying. I'm going to puke.

I had an early night last night. I was feeling particularly tired. "Fatigued" is more apt. I slept for two hours from seven to nine in the evening before pushing myself out the door for Salsa. Another reason for an early night was because I was singing a solo this morning and didn't want to ruin my voice with another late night. It was supposed to be a duet with my Pastor but he's very microphone-shy when it comes to singing, so I supplied the main vocals while he backed up with harmony and brilliant guitar accompaniment. I messed up the words to the second verse because at several points in the song, the guitar got in in front of the music sheet. The congregation was very kind as usual, generous with compliments. Oh, and my church web-site has a new look. It is pretty modern for a church, I think.

Went to karaoke and dinner with the Aslas girls today. These girls are multi-talented. They all sing beautifully. No off-keys or off-rhythm renditions from them. So I came up with a clever idea for the next routine. Let's do a song-and-dance routine. It was a joke. They collectively decided I would supply the vocals. Oh, errr.....joke?

I told him I was very flattered but as we are in very different stages in our lives, and are very different people, I didn't see it going anywhere beyond friendship. Besides, we'd only met ten days ago when he asked the question, and we hardly know each other. Why did he feel a need to go at warp speed? To prove just how different we are, he "doesn't expect anything from life", hence he doesn't have any desire to keep growing and learning new things. And, he could barely keep up with me last night. He's only nineteen! He said he knew from the moment we met that he wanted to be more than friends and it wasn't the packaging he was after. I pointed out that we'd only spoken no more than fifteen minutes at the party, so how could he know he wanted more if it wasn't a physical thing? "I don't know. There was just something about you. You had sparkle in your eyes." Hahahaha! That was glitter leftover from the performance make-up!

Today, I have to tackle that delicate question he put to me on sms a few days ago, "You are not equally interested in me as I am in you. What do you think?" Yes, it actually crossed his mine to tackle such a loaded question via sms. I put it off to a Saturday coffee activity.

Last night, Tara invited her other flat-mate out for a drink after a martial arts session they both go to regularly. He was painfully shy. Perhaps he was embarrassed by just how grungy he looked and smelled after a workout. I didn't mind but he was clearly uncomfortable since us girls were dressed in our Friday night outfits while he was in a polo t-shirt he got from the Sevens game last year. In fact, he was so awkward and shy that he never even got round to asking me for my number. This, after asking Tara if I dated younger men. Yes, I do. But they usually take my number to ask me out!

He left very early. Must have been midnight. We left some other friends we met at C-bar and moved on to Insomnia where we danced for a couple of hours. T-boy showed up at Insomnia as well, tipped off by his departing and much-too-honest-for-his-own-good flat-mate whom he met at the bottom of the hill. He took us by surprise. I looked up from dancing to make way for people passing through, only to find a very handsome face next to me. In the dark, he looked a bit older, too. For a brief moment, I wondered, if he was more mature, would I feel differently about him? He hung out with us for the rest of the night because he'd conveniently forgotten his house keys and so was stuck with his other flat-mate. He was trying hard to conceal his interest from Tara, who knew more than he imagined, while stealing adoring looks at me. I was most amused.

I have only an hour left to plan my script and get dressed.

As a kid growing up, I always wanted to look older than my age. Most people figured me two years older than I was, which kept me happy. But something happened when I reached my twenties...

It was quite hot at Club 97 last night. The weather has been warming up. And with so many more people showing up than the previous week, and the dance floor full of whirling, twirling, spinning bodies, it was starting to feel like a sauna. I stepped out to the entrance of the club to escape the heat and Yonni beckoned me to sit with him on the marble fixture. I met Yonni a year ago at a Salsa Congress party. He'd stomped on my foot while we were dancing with different people and was most apologetic the rest of the evening. We had one dance which I thought then, was the sexiest dance I'd ever had in my life. We had another dance before retiring in a corner sofa the rest of the evening chatting.

So there we were in a deja vu moment, sitting away from the party just talking. He made an observation that Wednesday salsa at 97 was drawing a good crowd probably because it is located near people's workplace and for some, their home. He went on further to suggest that he should probably re-consider moving to the city though DB was really hard to leave. I exclaimed that DB was a place to retire or raise kids, not be single. His argument was that he was ready to start a family. I was most amused at such forward planning in a man. He attributed my inability to comprehend his argument to my youthfulness.

"You are still young. You don't feel this urge to start a family." He patiently explained as if to a child.
I smiled and said I'm not nearly as young as he thought I was. He shook his head at what he thought was childish claims.
"Trust me, I'm not as young as I look."
He snorted, "Perhaps. But I'm much older than you."
I smiled broadly and enquired, "How much older? Howold are you?"
"Thirty-five", he said with a wizened look.
"Thirty-five?" I repeated, trying to stifle a chortle.
"Yeah" he emphasized with a bit of smugness as if showing off a badge of accomplishment.
"I'm thirty-five in a few weeks" I burst out.
"Really? Well, you don't look it" he said, controlling the surprise in his tone. "Well, congratulations."

*beam*

It was our second date. Well, sort of. He was seeing me off at the Airport Express Station in Central. My flight to Paris wasn't until midnight so we met up for a drink and snacks at a bar in IFC2. It was all new and exciting and the fact that I was going away for a week created an unnatural sense of urgency for us. I was more than my usual talkative, trying to squeeze in as much conversation as possible in the few hours we had.

On one of my trips to the bathroom, I ran into some people I knew from the musical I did last year and learned that "Oliver!" would be staged in March. When I returned to our table, I didn't really think about what I was saying and excitedly blurted out that one of my favourite musicals would be staged in March, would he like to see it with me. As soon as I heard myself say "March", I realised, too late, that I had asked him on a date two and a half months away. It was unheard of to plan a date a week away so early in a relationship, much less ten! But he was the perfect gentleman and said he would love to. That he enjoyed doing stuff like that but until then, had no one to do it with. I was so relieved that he didn't react the way any normal guy would have -- basicially, shocked disbelief. But things quickly took a disastrous turn and four weeks later, I had called it quits.

Today, following our discussion on Monday night about starting over and taking things slow, I broached the subject of "Oliver!" on email. I hummed and hawed as much as was possible on email and clarified that it would be just a "friendly outing". Two hours later, his reply came, "Yes, I still want to see it with you." Yessss! My faith in men is restored. I picked a date two weeks away to give enough time between our last meeting and our next. I guess I didn't learn from my mistake.

Have you heard anything more ridiculous? A Straits Times Interactive article (via al) reported some Singapore MPs levelling accusations at non-parent couples, calling them "irresponsible" and even suggesting punitive actions on such individuals for not doing their patriotic duty - making babies. Patriotic duty??? Can you think of anywhere else in the world where something like this could be tabled on the political agenda? One MP went so far as to suggest forcing these non-productive couples to contribute to a "Preventive Eldercare Fund" to alleviate the burden they will impose on society in their old age. Where was he when the CPF was implemented?

I'm starting a new blog. It is a paid one which will allow me to publish photos and stuff. But for the moment, it is hell to work with. I can't seem to figure out how the darn thing works. It uses Moveable Type. That's supposed to be a good thing but means squat to me. I haven't decided if I will keep it yet. I still have a few more days to decide if I want it before I end up paying for a year's subscription for nothing. For now, I am running two blogs in parallel. That should keep me busy.

We met up for dinner tonight. I'd been looking forward to the meeting for so long now, half expecting it would never happen and half hoping it would, that I hadn't thought about how we would get through the awkwardness of the whole situation. He called to say he would meet me in front of my apartment building. I enthused about it. And felt silly after. He was in a suit and a blue shirt (I noticed it midway through dinner). We politely exchanged greetings and "how are you's" then quickly ran out of conversation. I pulled out the hike discussion again. More enthusiasm about his achievement. Over dinner, he talked about his friends' visits - past and impending. I talked about rehearsals and performances. The conversation soon ran dry again. We were trying too hard to plug the gaps of silence while avoiding the subject that was at the top of both our minds. Eventually, it came up. I don't remember how or who brought it up. All that really mattered was that we were discussing it like mature individuals. We both agreed things happened too fast. We went from zero to a hundred and missed the milestones in between. Neither knew how to handle a situation that had gotten away from us. I was wishing that I could turn back the clock and start over. He was tired of thinking. And so the days passed. Until the chance meeting on the Dragon's back. Now, at last, I can let go. We decided tonight to defy the passage and consequences of time and start over as friends. To get to know each other like we should have back then. Not to recover a lost romance but for the sole purpose of discovering a friendship. Can we? Will we? I can only hope.

Was IM-ing a friend who's just watched "The Butterfly Effect" and it got me thinking: I want to watch a movie but I don't like going to the movies alone. Heck! I don't even like watching a movie at home alone unless it happens to be on the tele when I turn it on. The last movie I went to was over a month ago with Blue Shirt and his friend but before that, probably a year or so. So I'm setting myself a target to a) get myself a movie date or b) go to the movies alone this week. And t-boy doesn't qualify as a date because that would be too easy. Why even set such a stupid target? Because I'm bored. Because I'm going to be thirty-five-and-still-single soon and I'm not looking forward to it. Maybe I should have a "thirty-five-and-still-singe" party. Celebrate thirty-five years of successfully dodging a committed relationship. I'm in a horrid mood this weekend. And it hasn't even been a bad weekend.

I was in the office until half past eight on Friday night. I was trying to avoid the inevitable of spending Friday night alone at home and having t-boy call to try to see me. But he didn't call. Maybe I was a bit disappointed about that. I don't know. Anyway, I messaged a friend and met him in Wanchai. He was with a couple of women at Carnegies drinking a bottle of wine. I had coke because I'm teetotaling for Lent. Carnegies was filled with older, and fatter caucasian men. Not my target audience. I soon got bored and persuaded him to ditch his friends and accompany me to Lan Kwai Fong. We hung out at C-bar for a while, "talent-scouting". It was a busy night. I met many people in the street that I knew or sort of knew. The gay guy who directed "The Fiddler on the Roof" musical I was in last year, drinking with his mother. His boyfriend was nowhere in sight. Maybe they broke up. I didn't think they would recognise me so I didn't bother to acknowledge them across the street until I noticed them both staring at me. There were two men at the bar whom I found rather familiar but couldn't place. Turns out one of them was at the bar the night I met mystery-man-no-more. We briefly chatted while I waited for him to show up. So we chatted again while my friend was engaged with some of his friends who were passing by. Later, another friend messaged me and showed up at C-bar. So now a little party was building up. Then another three guys stopped by to chat with one of the guys that one of my friends was talking to. One of them, a chinese chap, looked really familiar. He saw me and I smiled. He smiled back a smile of recognition. We greeted and I apologised that I didn't remember his name. Truth was, I didn't even remember where I knew him from or whether I really knew him at all. He supplied his name and reminded me that we hadn't seen each other since New Year's Eve. He was one of the guys me and the dance girls met at Klong. The guy who bought us drinks after his friend helped take a picture for us. He was with two other workmates who weren't at the New Year's Eve meeting but they immediately knew who I was. Apparently, I had made an impression on him. I was that "gorgeous salsa girl" he couldn't stop talking about who had her ass groped by a big fat drunk. Great. The party broke up around two which is when lights start going out in LKF. First friend and I moved on to Insomnia where I danced while he nearly passed out in his seat. I got home around three and slept until lunch time.

Saturday salsa was great last night. The troops were in town and a bunch of mostly hispanic U.S. navy boys showed up at the party. Some showed up for lessons half drunk. They were rowdy. A couple of them were very good dancers. For the first time in a very long time, women were in short supply at a salsa party. The good women dancers were absent, too. Which meant the rest of us had to make up for it. I danced until my feet were sore from spinning left and right. I had a skirt on last night of all nights. The boys kept on encouraging the best dancer among them to give me a good spin. "Cinco! cinco!" they called out. He responded with five spins which gave them just what they wanted -- a flying skirt. All modesty out the door but I was dancing too well to care. I was having a good dance night. Even got to dance "on two" twice! So I really have no reason to be feeling jaded, or bored or restless or whatever it is I'm feeling. But there it is. I think I just need a good kiss. Not sex. Just a really good kiss. And I'm thinking Blue Shirt. I think I need therapy.

It appears the latest virus is hitting email servers, causing them to slow down and debilitating some basic email functions like deletion, calendar entry and synchronisation. Is it really so hard for these virus perpertrators to understand that by reducing internet productivity, they slow down corporate productivity, which in turn, affects the economy and ultimately the random man/woman-in-the-street, including the very perpertrators, themselves?

T-boy ("Teenage" not "Toy") asked me to lunch again today. I hate having to keep lying and avoiding. Fortunately, I didn't have to lie this time as I already had a lunch date fixed since Sunday night. This can't go on. I have to find a way to let him down gently without bruising his ego, or mine. According to Salsagod's Insight to a Man's Psyche, the more I avoid him, the more persistent he will be as I become a challenge that he feels compelled to conquer. The solution would, therefore, be to sleep with the poor kid so he considers his mission accomplished and moves on. However, I am not prepared to sacrifice my ego for his. So it looks like bruise his ego I must.

I acquiesed to having lunch with him today after my numerous attempts to avoid the engagement just led him to try for lunch or dinner tomorrow.
"Got time for lunch today?" his text message read.
"Am in meeting until around 1pm", I replied, knowing his lunch time was between half past twelve and half past one.
"Have flexible lunch time today. Can meet you around 1pm". I didn't reply immediately as I planned my next response. "1.30 is also fine" he added.
"Don't wait. May have team lunch. Big boss in town" I lied.
"I see. Maybe lunch or dinner tomorrow?"

I really didn't think a dinner date would be sending the right signals so took up his lunch suggestion instead. I booked a favourite Japanese restaurant nearby which Salsagod and I frequent, knowing he was on a budget. I figured I might put him off dating a woman with expensive taste. In the end, I felt bad making a guy on a budget pay for a lunch he could ill afford, so I put it on my card instead. In return, he suggested that he buy me drinks tomorrow night. And here I thought seeing him at lunch would shake him off trying to see me on the weekend. As we left the restaurant, he attempted to fit himself into my weekend schedule.

"So, how about Friday night?"
"I'm out with friends for drinks." I lied. (oops! did I mention earlier that I was not drinking for the next few weeks?)
"What about Saturday?" He continued, undaunted.
"Oh, that's reserved for Salsa." That was an easy answer. He already knew it.
"So Sunday is probably the best time, huh?" he persisted.
"Not really," I made a face as I replied, "that's my day of rest when I take things easy and do laundry and stuff."
"So, when can I see you this weekend?" he was almost pleading.
"Tell you what...if I'm out for drinks tomorrow night, I'll give you a call."
"Cool!" he beamed.

Chances are, he's going to be texting or calling me tomorrow to follow up.

So, here's the nagging question: should age matter?

I want to meet someone nice and I want to meet him soon. I'm done dallying with sexy salsa gods, toying with devastatingly gorgeous boys and pining for lost loves. Haha! Well, I can dream, can't I? I am convinced that the One for me does not exist. Or if he does, is already married to some woman he doesn't love. They're married because it seemed like the thing to do at the time. Such tragedy. I'm melancholy tonight. I have no reason to be. I just came back from Club 97 and had a great time dancing to Salsa, Merengue and hip-hop. But it all seems so pointless when there's no one to share it with at the end of the evening. On the other hand, a partner could get in the way at dance parties. Some salsa couples don't dance with anyone but their partners most of the time. I'm rambling. I really should get to sleep but I'm bored. I'm tired of sleeping so much and still feeling tired in the day despite. And I don't want to give up my sexy salsa gods and gorgeous boys, though I will move on from lost loves. I really don't know what I'm rambling on about because words are just too clumsy at expressing all I'm feeling. I'm frustrated because I have to deal with the childish fancy of a nineteen year-old. Nineteen! for crying out loud! He's nearly half my age!! Shouldn't he be in school or something? ARGH!

I went to bed at half past nine last night thinking it would give me a better chance of waking early. I awoke at nine. I suppose this is my body calling on its sleep debt.

I received a call on my mobile phone at half past midnight rousing me from a very deep sleep. (I should remember to turn off my phone before I go to bed.) So I got out of bed and walked across the hall to where I had my phone in my purse and picked up the anonymous call. The person on the other end of the line wouldn't say a word. After five unreciprocated "hellos", I hung up. Some people have too much time on their hands.

Salsagod is challenging me to pull off dating both flat-mates, probaly in an attempt to re-direct my lustful attentions away from himself because of some neurotic anxiety he has that I might fall in love with him. Dating a very young man would certainly put a prized notch on the bedpost, but a teenager?? It's probably illegal. Anyway, it seems the teenager went to tell his flat-mate that he'd had lunch with me so now his shy flat-mate who has yet to make a move despite all his queries about me will probably never make one. Too bad. He seems like such a sweet chap from what I've heard. And he did say those nice things about me! Teenager told me I was "cute". Duh.

Now that Young B has come and gone through HK, we don't IM much anymore, especially since he's still on vacation, this time in the Philippines. This leaves me with a lot of time in the evenings with not much to do, and with nothing good on tele, it means I'm terribly bored. I might start getting through the new DVDs I got at dirt cheap prices from HMV last weekend. And maybe another early night in bed.

Oh, and ever since that night of the meeting with mystery-man-no-more, my site stats has dropped dramatically. I had no idea one man was causing the spike in readership for almost a year. I guess we're all entitled to our obsessive addictions.

The Salsa Festival performance night saw performers from San Francisco, India and Paris. The teams from SF tossed and flipped their female team mates in the air and on their backs like kung-fu experts wielding weightless poles. It was an excellent show. The Hong Kong teams put up some excellent performances, too. No acrobatics but the routines and costumes were more impressive than at the Salsa Congress last year. The show was very well attended, attracting a large audience from outside the salsa community. Hopefully, this means we'll be seeing more salsa incumbents growing the relatively small salsa community in Hong Kong.

I had on a dress I had originally bought for New Year's Eve 2004. It was a stretch matte jersey dress that clinged onto every curve. It cut a high hemline on the front and graduated into a tail at the back, had a low cowl neckline and a backline reaching down to the waist. It was my most daring number ever but I didn't stay long enough at the after-show party to find out if it made a difference to how many dances I got. I left a little after midnight for a house-party that Tara and her flat-mates were hosting. By the time, I got there, the cops had shut down the music. Still, there were close to forty people crowding the small apartment. Soon after, the cops showed up again, this time to shut down the party altogether. An argument with the cops ensued and one disgruntled guest began shouting at the top of her voice that she had the "arresting officer's name" if anyone felt inclined to write in to the SCMP like she was. I was preparing to leave but the loudest among the party left first so I stayed behind, confident that the cops would trouble us no more. The party broke a half hour later with the remaining revelers heading out for drinks at a nearby pub. I headed home. But not before I'd given my number to the younger of Tara's flat-mates.

Tara has two flat-mates: a German and an American. German guy lived in Singapore for a few years before moving to HK so felt a common bond with me. He was trying to impress me with Hokkien swear words he'd picked up during his time in Singapore. As I was leaving, he asked for my number at the door. I received a call while in the taxi. Followed by text messages later. And another call on Sunday night asking if he could bring a dvd over to watch it with me. I turned that down because I had a Salsa party to go to. I never got to the party but he doesn't need to know. Early this morning, he sms'd to ask me to lunch. Someone was in a hurry. Last night, Tara told me that her other flat-mate was asking about me after the party. Apparently, he was taken with my "spirit" and "genuineness" (I think he's on to something) and went on for about twenty minutes about how taken he was with me. That's longer than we spent actually talking at the party! And when she walked into the apartment last night, both flat-mates were watching dvd in the living room and the American asked her about me again. This time, in front of German flat-mate. This would explain the German's hurry to get a first "date" with me. I'm having a good laugh at this. It's like being back in junior college when boys vied with each other for a girl's attention. Did I mention that German guy is only nineteen?! LOL! Now he wants to see me Wednesday night. My ego is getting such a huge boost, I'm in danger of exploding from it. I don't think I ever had this much attention while I was in junior college. Salsa is my excuse again. But he's young and determined so a hike is being planned this weekend.