Cars, Guacamole and Cats

I'm not sure what one has to do with another, but it sounded like a fun title.  It is kind of like my evening....I drove home (who knew you could tolerate traffic if driving the ultimate driving machine?), well, okay, so first I drove some miscellaneous side streets, then to Kroger and the funny thing I noticed about Kroger here is that I don't think they condone contraception.  It caught my eye (ironically, right around the corner from their outstanding (cough) wine selection), that a very limited selection of condoms is available in a locked plexiglass cabinet.  I am going to venture a guess that they do not do much business in this particular product.  That is probably why I noticed so many pregnant women wandering the store.  No, not really, but that would have been funny.

But I digress.  Kroger, Target and then home.  Wait, where was I going with this?  Oh yes, cars, guac and cats.  Okay, so you have the car piece.  Let me jump to the cat part really quickly.  I just heard Portia cat run into the screen door, and then meow so offendedly!  Oh, what a silly cat I have.  Not only does she have to be outside 90% of the time (thank goodness Georgia weather has so far been nice enough), but she also eats spinach and avocado.  How do I know this?  Well, this evening while making guacamole (there it is!), she begged to sniff the avocado, as she begs to sniff anything when I am standing at the kitchen counter. 

Seriously, I could be staring at the kitchen counter, but for all she knows, I have some hidden food that I do not want to share with her and therefore, she insists on seeing what is going on.  She stands on her hind legs, usually one front paw on the cupboard, meowing and looking at me expectantly.  Like I am going to magically produce the ultimate cat snack.  So, sometimes, I humour her and let her catch a whiff of garlic or onion, to which she rapidly blinks and recoils her little nose and pulls her head back.  But tonight she ate a little bit of avocado and asked (in cat-speak) for more.  

There you go: car, guacamole and cat.  I was particularly excited about the guac part.  

And now, for your regular Oz update: I am pretty sure I have gone through 5 iterations of love and apathy since my last post.  Wasn't that just yesterday too?  I was sweet enough to write and mail a note to him, then a few hours later was indignant that I had not heard from him all day.  And that after saying he would check out my new wheels today, told me he promised some co-worker something.  It all did not make sense to me.  Trim up something after last week, was going to do it after work....whatever!  Doesn't sound like something that would take all night and warrant not having time to see my new vehicle.  Bugger.  Blah.

Now, back to cars, guac and cats...

HotPants Has Wheels and the Colour Orange

Before I get to the exciting news, I have a question: What is your favourite colour? I thought this was pretty interesting as orange is my favourite colour and supposedly this is what it means:

Orange

What it represents: OK, orange is not exactly the easiest color to wear and it’s not the most common favorite color, but guess what? Orange is as sensual as it gets. Orange is a mellowed red — and it takes primal, lusty urges and mellows them with a softer vibe. Orange is the color of early attractions, emotional responses, and inner magnetism. Oh, and one other thing: orange is also close to gold, the color of success and wealth. 

Understanding people who love it: Someone who likes orange is alive with feelings, the ability to nurture, and can intuit a path to success. If your favorite color is orange, you don’t have an “off” switch when it comes to passion. This is all good stuff, but there’s nothing casual about the connections this kind of person usually forges. 

This is pretty much me.  

In other news, I bought a car today.  Heated seats give whole new meaning to my life, and to HotPants! Was it sudden?  No, not really.  I had been thinking about this for a few weeks and what car I wanted.  And now, it's too late to take it back if I don't like it, so it's pretty final.  Just like everything else in my life, it seems surreal to be driving a car, to own a car and now I have to remember to put gas in it too.  Bets on how long it takes me to find myself out of gas because I just haven't had to think about that at all in the last 6 months? I drove it home and except for the car payment, it feels like I will have to return the car in a few days or something.  

Everything in my life seems so temporary and transient.  Relationships, jobs, cars, friends, a full box of popcorn....seriously, I am kind of embarrassed to admit how much popcorn I eat.  Thanks to my did for instilling that habit early in life.

But the most temporary thing of all lately is how long I am mad at Oz over something.  Yes, indeed we are back at it (the girly stuff was his mother's, from her visit), had a great weekend and now I am tired of this whole thing once again.  What is my problem?  It's like neither of us ever knows what we want.  I'm really kind of tired of it.  Problem is, when it's good, it's really good and when it's bad...I couldn't feel more apathetic.  We very much play off of each others' perceptions of the others' current mood.  Match made in heaven, right?  Maybe we are too much alike.  We are both Leos after all.  

 I maintain that things should not be this difficult.  So why do I continue?  I have no idea.  

Lost: Season 30

I thought that the extraordinary events of the last few days deserved their own post, and a second post for today.  I occasionally am hindered by self-conciousness to be bluntly honest in this blog, as I know most readers know me personally.  But then, I think it is this deeply personal openness that many others would struggle to achieve that I do so well.  This splaying open of my heart, my deepest thoughts and feelings...  okay, enough with the dramatic preface.

Over the last few weeks I have kind of, sort of gotten back together with Oz.  First it was undefined, until he decided to tell his mother we are dating.  Dating, I tell you, after he told me he did not have a definition for what we were doing.  Bizarre.  But then, I kind of live in Bizarro World, so I guess I marked this on my mental chalk board (no, really, I do keep tabs on this sort of thing mentally with an image of an actual chalkboard and those five strike marks we are all taught to keep score with in kindergarten) and at an opportune moment (opportune meaning loaded with Benadryal and a few cocktails), asked him why he would tell his mother this without telling me or asking me first.  "Well, don't you want to be dating?" was the deadpan response.  I'm not so sure, whispered a voice in my head. 

There are (several) parts to this conversation clouded in a Benadryl haze, but I distinctly remember telling him, "We are not 20 any more Oz, we are 30.  You're either in or you're out."  At my age, I do not feel like one should have to guess whether one's partner truly wants to be in one's life.  If you're not doing everything to lock me down after a certain point, well, there's a giant red flag waving in my face because damn it, I am the kind of woman who should embolden any man to proclaim his love and affection for me so resolutely and with such certainty to never waiver from it, and desire such from me in return.  Yes, I am that wonderful ladies and gentlemen.  Why?  Because I love fearlessly, deeply, unconditionally.  Among other things.

We ended our evening, which had become a routine one evening per week, as always, with Oz's arms wrapped in an iron vice grip around my entire body as we fell asleep.  This grip has become symbolic in so many ways.  In the beginning of our relationship, it signified the strength of our unity and togetherness.  I craved the security it gave me, that he never wanted to let me go.  I remember nights at home in my own bed, not being able to fall asleep without that comforting, secure hold on me.  It made me feel so small and tiny, to have those big, strong arms wrapped entirely around me.  In the end, that vice grip squeezed the life and love out of my heart.  He had a hold on me that I could barely break out of.

Without going into great detail, let it suffice to say that he lied.  He lied about a seemingly little thing (whether or not he was going to a Halloween party).  I didn't call him out on it.  I just slowly let my affections for him waste until it was small enough to slip out of that vice grip.  I wonder how we started out as we did, both of us so sure we were meant for forever, and ended here, like this?  I saw him a bit over the last few days.  For the second time, he fell asleep when he was supposed to pick me up from the airport.  There were other things.  Like the girly, expensive shampoo that a cheap, manly, black man with 1/16th of an inch of hair would probably not buy (please see picture to the right of the actual, suspicious shampoo and conditioner.  Oh yes I did).  The quietness, the lack of response and conversation.  No more teasing. 

It's not that I haven't been here before.  I certainly have.  I just wonder what makes someone do this.  I wonder what makes someone think I shall be at his beck and call.  He should get the message soon.  I didn't answer a text.  I declined dinner.  I didn't respond wihen he asked if that meant I was not available to hang out.  When I am ready, I shall tell him that this isn't working for me, and it is not what I expect from a dating relationship.  I doubt I shall get any real objections. 

Why is this all so extraordinary?  I don't know.  I guess it isn't.  It just feels like Season 30 of Lost.  Obnoxiously endless and I should know what the outcome is, but I am always left hanging until the finale comes right out of no where. 

Two Bloke Weekend

Now that sounds like a great name for a beer...there is Two Hearted Ale, so why not a Two Bloke Weekend?  If I even come up with my own beer or wine, it will be called that.  But I digress.  

I know you came to read a good story.  Apparently one about two blokes and a weekend.  Please note this weekend was several weekends ago...like 2 or 3 to be exact.  So, here it goes.  It all started out pretty swell.  Oh, wait...maybe this is a three bloke weekend!  My friend MD and I decided to catch a movie after work, so we went to see Hereafter and have a bite to eat.  We are actually really just friends.  No, I really mean it.  I promise.  Just. Friends.  Okay, so that was how it started.

I had reserved Scuba, a cute little Nissan Sentra Zipcar for Saturday, an all day, 24 hour reservation.  But, little Scuba was for some reason unavailable, so they gave me Bennett, a nice BMW 328.  Wow.  Wow.  Wow.  Like, I can hardly describe how I felt.  It was like I was weightless, light and floating; my whole body was warm and tingly; flowed seratonin flowed freely throughout my entire body and it was nothing short of orgasmic.  Everything Oz had told me about driving a BMW was in fact, quite true.  

With such a great start to my day, I ran errands and mailed a present to little Lila, as she is about 2 months old, it was about time.  Dry cleaners, Goodwill, eyebrow wax, grocery store, Nordstrom, nails, two conference calls and a whole lotta driving Bennett...and then, it was date time!  

I stepped into my hot date jeans, a cute top and sweater and hot 4" heels and cute jacket.  I fluffed my curls, added some eye makeup suitable for an evening date, added jewelry and voila!  I was off to Cafe Intermezzo.  I really liked this place and hadn't ever been to a place designed with the concept of a European coffee house in mind.  The menu was like 50+ pages, with copious coffee drinks, pastries, wines, beverages, entrees and so much more available.  Each new section (such as Cognacs, Ports, etc.) had a description and history of the beverage, which was really fascinating.  Had I not been on a date, I might have snuck one of the menus home with me, and next time I think I will.  

In addition to the amazing menu, I loved the ambiance.  We sat outside, cafe style (I forgot it was about to get a little chilly after dark).  It was lit with low lighting and candles on the small, wrought iron tables. It's an excellent choice for a date, I have to say.  It can be intimate without being overly so.  The place filled up gradually, with couples sipping espressos and having dessert.  One of my first thoughts was, I would love to bring Oz here.  He might have thrown a fit over the service, however.  Our waitress did not have any answer really when I asked for a Malbec recommendation, and she did not come back to the table more than twice, until it was time to hand over the bill.  

I had a very good Deseno Malbec for $8 and it was a generous pour.  That seems pretty reasonable for HotPants.  Neither of us had eaten, so we decided to have a bite to eat as well.  So I ordered a panini with pulled chicken, apple, spinach and honey mustard.  At first, I was skeptical of having the spinach on it, but it actually turned out quite good.  The combination of flavours was very engaging and it was not just eating something because I was hungry, but it was genuinely enjoyable. 

For dessert, we went inside to the little bakery, cafe area.  If you're not familiar with the place, what you do is leave your table (tell your waitress you're having dessert!), order a cheesecake or other cake from the delectable choices and return to your table.  Shortly thereafter, your dessert arrives.  My date opted for his favourite, the Strauss cake, a rich chocolatey creation.  I asked for a recommendation and was told the apple pumpkin cake was delicious and there was only one slice left.... so I ordered it!

The Strauss cake arrived, but mine did not, so I had to ask the manager about it.  It was okay, but I have to say I was disappointed.  I generally am not a cake fan and the only part of this cake I liked was the pumpkin cheesecake wedged between two pieces of apple cake.  There was some kind of apple-cinnamon streusel top, but it was just okay. Long story short: lovely date and I will be back to further explore the menu, particularly the extensive coffee drink menu!

After I got home, Oz decided to stop by for a visit and we talked a bit about his mum's visit (she was at home sleeping).  It didn't take long for him to become allergic to the cats, so he didn't stay too long.  I'd like to think that he just missed me so much that he wanted to see me, but in fact...it was probably a good thing his allergies got to him. 

There you have it...a three bloke weekend. 

Grouchfest: Edition 1

I admit.  Somedays I am like a grinch.  Usually around Christmas as I am not a big fan.  But sometimes, between one holiday and the next, I act like a grinch.  

Today did not start out as one of those day.  Still glowing from an Oz-made meal (tacos on Monday night, after I had mentioned tacos on Saturday), MNF with Oz (Go Titans!!) and a good-bye kiss at the train station from Oz, I settle into my first day of work sans my boss, mentor and friend.  While at times I felt it hard to be motivated, I settled into a steady pace and got a lot accomplished.  At the end of the day, I felt pretty productive and happy.  Then came....

....Grouchfest!!  What, you ask, could possibly derail my thoughts of Oz being sweet and appreciative and laid back and easy going, to something that made me so miserable and grouchy?  Marta.  Yes, Marta.  

I missed my bus by 8 whole minutes and had to wait for another 42 minutes for the next one.  While waiting, I tried to turn my attention back to those sweet kisses that Oz gently placed on my neck and his huge, strong arms wrapped around me tightly, I just could not, because of the screaming child next to me!  I. do. not. understand. why. children. insist. on. screaming!  And why their parents let them!

I moved down the row to an empty bench.  And then.  The lady with the rolling suitcase.  Seriously?!  You disrupt my perfect silence (now that the screaming has subsided) with your damnable rolly friggin suitcase?!  I popped in the earbuds and cranked up Cee Lo Green's F**k You!  Only he can turn that phrase into something so upbeat sounding.  It is oddly therapeutic.

Then I play Love That Girl by Raphael Saadiq, followed by his song Never Give You Up.  I don't know, it's just a thing.  I was trying to bring back those feelings from last night, while wrapped up in Oz's arms while he was so sweet and tender.  Yes, yes...I am a girl and I sometimes act and think like one.

Finally the bus comes and even though I am cursing that the drive leaves and comes back, only to have delayed us by a precious 4 minutes, what really, really gets me is the second screaming child!  These short, shrill bursts, one immediately after another as though she were some kind of siren (and believe me, not of the Greek persuasion).  

I recover and get a phone call from a close friend and by the time I get home, pop some popcorn and settle on the couch with a glass of wine and at least one compliant, non-meowy cat, I see that I have a Facebook invite for something called "Wedded Perfection Tea."  I just wanted to vomit.

Which of my friends was having a tea, a tea I ask, in order to announce her wedded bliss?  This is when grouchfest set in for good.  So, is it not enough that you asked 2,000 of your closest friends and family to adore, worship and genuflect before you whilst you choose a dress, flowers, cake, send invites, tie something onto an obnoxious wedding "favour", but now you want to rub it in to all of us (single) people that you are blissfully happy too?  I have just been waiting for the divorce papers, really, so I can feel better about being single.

Fortunately, I was able to recollect may sanity after I realized it was some museum exhibit with 200 years of wedding dresses.  Phew...I was close on losing it for a second.

Then I wrote this post, had a second glass of wine and now I think the grinch is subsiding.  Maybe.  I could find something else to be grinchy about, I am quite sure.  Just one of those days.

Zippety Don't

Nothing exciting has happened in this Atlanta blogger's life.  Eharmony continues to be my main connection to the outside world.  It is hard sometimes, for me to believe that life exists beyond Marta, Hurt Plaza and home.  Like, really strange that there is anything other than that.  Oh, and Oz's place, but that is a thing of the past.  Or so I thought.  More on that later.

Yesterday I had dinner at The Brick Store Pub, in Decatur.  My friend's niece who is 22 and just graduated from Clemson just moved to Atlanta about 3 weeks ago.  So I've been trying to help her find a job and such, so we went to dinner to just kind of get out of the house and whatever.  I had gone to BSP once before, when I had been searching for an apartment before I moved to HotPants.  It was lunch and everyone was super nice and had suggestions about where I should live.  Dinner was pretty good as well.  We had to wait almost an hour, after we were told 30 minutes, but it was a Friday night and I know I like to linger over many beers on a Friday night after a hella long week.  We split the shepherd's daughter's pie and pierogi primavera.  Delicious!!  It was quite good.  The portions are not huge, which is fine for me because I do not eat lots all at once, but if you were a huge dude, you might want to get a starter as well.

I love that they have a vast selection of beers and I love the inviting, dark, cozy ambiance.  And the upstairs bar area is all nice and cozy and wooden everything.  It is very charming.  I wish it was closer to where I live now, because I would for sure make it my regular watering hole.  There is no such place near me.  If you're looking for a nice first or second or third date place, especially as it gets a wee bit cooler, I would highly recommend The Brick Store Pub.  You can get all nice and cozy there.  They even have Framboise in peach and raspberry.

Okay, okay, I've been stalling.  Oz!  He has been missing me, so we got together on Friday night.  He was up to his usual antics, but it was a completely platonic get together and I had mentioned that I was going to go run errands Saturday morning.  On Saturday morning, he asked how I was going to run errands and of course, I mentioned ZipCar.  I had to explain what it was.  And how I got to/from said cars.  After he had put some laundry in the washer, I walked into the kitchen and he asked, "So, what if you used my car to run errands?"  I was pretty sure he didn't want me driving his BMW 330i, so I said (after a long pause, staring at the ground because I didn't want to seem too excited), "Well, that would be really nice but I don't want to be a nuisance."  He assured I wouldn't be, and he had errands to run at a few of the same places too, so...off we went.

Lesson of the day:  it doesn't pay to be nosy.  While we were at Nordstrom, picking up my tailoring, he sat in a chair and immediately whipped out his text machine (aka cell phone).  It appeared he was texting a...gasp!...girl!!???  I realized how heartbroken I was, reminded myself that he was with me at that moment and hey, wasn't I still eHarmonizing?  Yeah...so... Still, it was amazing how my heart seized up on me and totally gave me away.  We grabbed lunch at Tin Roof as it was about 2 ish or something and we were both getting a little cranky from not having eaten. 

Long story short:  We had a great day, he helped me drop some things off at my apartment, saw my mess (slightly embarrassed as he is a neat freak!), but I blamed it on still unpacking (6 weeks later).  It was another completely platonic day and I just absolutely adored him all day.  He is definitely high maintenance and used to being spoiled, but crazy me, I love spoiling my loved one.  

And, that's a wrap!  Nothing more going on here this weekend, except I may finally reserve a ZipCar to go to CarMax and see what's up there.  Just another slllooowww weekend in HotPants

Cafe Bombay

Today, we are reviewing a restaurant called Cafe Bombay.  It is an Indian place on Briarcliff Road, near N. Druid Hills Road.  I dined here with the now ex, and sadly, this experience may well have been the catalyst for the prefix "ex"now applied. 

I like good service, just like anyone else.  But, I have to say, I never expect hurried or rushed waiters at an Indian restaurant.  It is usually pretty laid back.  And such was the case with this place.  I was quite happy with being seated immediately; the place wasn't packed.  The interior was slightly dimly lit and warm, friendly and inviting.  We sat and were not waited on for a few minutes.  Our waiter (clearly not part of the Indian theme going on) had a little bit of an attitude, I sensed.  Oz ordered a dry, dirty martini with no olives.  I decided I was too tired to drink, so just stuck with water.

We asked the waiter what he would recommend and his sass-filled answer was, "Well, depends what you like." So I said I like chicken and he pointed out a few dishes.  I chose Chicken Vindaloo.  Oz also asked for a recommendation and after confirming he liked spinach, ended up with Saag something... I am not sure if it was Saag Paneer or something else, but possibly.  

Oz's drink was brought out a little later (okay, even I thought it was a little slow in coming out).  He was already agitated at this point, so when he sipped his drink, I think it just put him over the top.  Dry martini means no vermouth.  Dirty martini means extra olive juice.  This was not a dry, dirty martini, and I can attest to that.  So he brought the waiter over and unfortunately, the waiter chose the wrong person with who to argue.  Oz knows his drinks.  The waiter stated that dry meant extra vermouth and dirty?  Well you didn't want any olives.  Oz finally just said, I want vodka with olive juice.  The waiter: We don't have olive juice.  Oz: Well how were you going to make a dirty martini.  Waiter: Well you didn't want any olives.   Oz just said forget it, that he would drink whatever he had been made. 

Shortly after, the food arrived but Oz was so agitated he demanded that we get it to go and leave.  Sigh.  There went my nice, spur of the moment, hey, I want to take you out to dinner....

But the story isn't so much about Oz as it is about the food.  The food was phenomenal!  I personally don't believe you go to an Indian restaurant for a dry, dirty martini....stay in Buckhead if that is what you want.  But you do go for the food, and it was really, really good.  I will definitely go back to Cafe Bombay, sans Oz.  And hopefully they will have replaced the waiter, who graciously (after first running the bill with the drink) ran the bill without the drink, since we "hadn't been satisfied with it."  

The Chicken Vindaloo was very spicy, as I had wanted it to be, and Oz eagerly ate his Saag something... and even after his little grinch moment, agreed that perhaps he would go back for take out.  

HotPants Milestone #2

So, after the best date of my life a month ago, comes the best breakup of my life.  Yes, Oz and I mutually decided to call it quits.  It just wasn't working.  The funny thing is, he started the serious conversation, but I had to spit it out for him.  In the end, we were laughing and joking like it was our first date all over again.  It was even in one of the same bars, near the Lindbergh Station.  

It was amazing to me how nervous he was about the whole entire thing and I had known all week that this was coming.  He was amazed at my prescience.  I just know these things; I have had plenty of experience.  He thought that I was going to throw a beer in his face and run out saying how I hated him.  I reminded him that I exuded maturity (his words, not mine).  It was even more enjoyable to turn the tables when the waitress brought the check.  I took the check and said, "Thanks for breaking up with me.  Let me buy you a beer."  All he could do was laugh and tell me how impressive it was.  This, after I told him how easy I had made it on him and wasn't I always thinking of him?

We agreed to be friends, although it is still TBD what exactly that means or looks like.  I told him there had to be definition and explanation of expectations.  I like this bloke.  A lot.  As a person.  Not just like only a boyfriend.  I want to be friends with him.  

And so, my life as it has been at the Lindbergh Station.  Seeing him waiting for the train as mine passes by and feeling my heart skip a beat, an instant smile on my face.  Waiting for our trains together in the morning and kissing him goodbye.  Meeting him for the first time nearby at Taco Mac for dinner, then going next door to play pool and getting a pool lesson.... and how many times did we drive there together, park and walk to the train?  Such good, positive memories....I am happy.  Happy with a breakup.  Who knew it could be this good?

So, you have been wondering...where have I been?!  Well...I am not entirely sure I can explain that.  I have been dating...what did we call him?  I can't remember his craftily crafted nickname.  But he has been pretty stellar.  He is an amazing cook and when he opens his own place, I will most certainly blog about it.  Lamb tenderloin and Chilean sea bass...mmm!  I am not really sure where it is headed.  But then, am I ever?

In other news, I haven't really been out and about much in Atlanta.  The inefficiency that is called MARTA has a lot to do with that.  Well, that, and the fact that I do not have a car to facilitate my eating out habits.  I mean, Mr. Man cooks for me, what more could I possibly want to eat?  And my friend-making habits...gone!

Seriously though, I feel like I have completely let down my audience by not having much to blog about.  I am working and I love it.  I love my job, my boss, my coworkers, my office, my snack drawer, my cats, the fact that my cats can hang out on the porch, Little Chica Malbec, Mr. Man, Ben E. King, Audrey Hepburn, my couches, my apartment, the fact that I will be going to NYC next weekend, Mr. Man...oh, wait, I mentioned that already.  I really do need to remember his craftily crafted nickname.

I did meet a fellow resident of my apartment complex today at the bus stop.  Her name is Nancy and she is from Beijing.  She is a grad student at GSU and we are going to the DMV together tomorrow.  How funny is that?  I met her just this morning, in fact.  How even funnier is that?  What perplexes me even more is, why am I listening to Taylor Swift and enjoying it?  I must be drunk.  I am totally blaming that on Little Chica.

Shame on you, Little Chica!

For a Malbec that you can purchase at the Target Greatlands across the street, this is actually pretty good.  I am already on bottle 2 for the week.  

Well, it is a Friday night.  Mr. Man (or whatever his craftily crafted nickname is) is at the High Museum (I am pretty sure this museum has something to do with drugs) with a coworker.  I am home with Little Chica and the cats, obviously.  Perhaps this is a sign that I should finish unpacking, instead of focusing on...whatever it is that I am purportedly focusing on.  Blogging, I guess.

There you have it.  My life, in ATL.  

Milestone: First HotPants Date

So.  HotPants.  My first Atlanta dating adventure occurred on Tuesday evening.  Eight and a half hours later, I declared it an Epic First Date.  As you can imagine, EFD is a rare designation in the land of dating.  Especially for me. 

Have I mentioned I do not have a car? MARTA is my mane mode of transportation, and I admit I was a little embarrassed to tell my date this.  We agreed to meet at the Lindbergh MARTA station, then after the date he would drive me to the ghetto-tel (ghetto-hotel, get it?! ha ha).  I packed my work bag with well, work, because I thought we would probably just have dinner and a drink, check each other out, ask each other awkward questions, self-conciously share stories about our crazy families and then go home.  Wrong.

This is the short version: Dinner at Taco Mac, we played pool next door while quiz night was underway, Fado and a drive around the Midtown/Buckhead area, some other place and then he dropped me off at the hotel.

The cute version: Dinner at Taco Mac, he taught me how to play pool and he totally loved my smack talk (even though I have no idea how to play pool), then he drove me around to sight-see and show me where he lived, we had a drink at Fado where he told me he thought I was pretty great, then we went to some little place and sat outside, he ordered food too because I think he knew I could be a little bit of a light-weight, we talked and talked and then he told me he thought I was pretty and finally he took me home around 2:30am and gave me a big hug after telling me we had to hang out again when he got back into town on Sunday.  I told him to call me if he got bored over the next few days at home.  At 3am, I got a phone call and he said, "Um, I guess I got bored..." So cute.  Then we talked for almost another hour.  

So, obviously, the date was awesome.  I had a chance to check out some of the places around town.  My handsome date, whom we will call...Oz...told me that this whole section of Buckhead used to be just clubs and more clubs.  Then, the powers that were in Buckhead decided that they wanted to change the scene there, so they tore it all down and now they are sort of trying to build the Streets of Buckhead.  Sadly, all it is right now is about 5 cranes and some half built stuff.  Apparently it has been in this condition for about the last 3 years or so. And now it's just a dead, no man's land.  It totally sounded like something that would happen in Cincinnati.  And that is not a compliment. 

Buckhead, you need to get your act together on this one.