Apologies for the late posting, however I only just got back at home after three nights in Melbourne. That's not to say I was off having sex all weekend. As it happens I did have some sex, it's just not to say that I did...
Anyway, on Friday night I had my second date with E-bird who I met via RSVP.com. It is the first time I've tried RSVP, and she was the only person I liked on it, and we had had a coffee date last weekend and this time we had 'drinks' from 8.30pm onwards at a nice bar in Collingwood, Melbourne.
* We talked from 8.30pm until 1.30am without any awkward pauses.
* She confessed to having a girl-crush on Julia Gillard, and a massive crush on Paul Keating.
* She instigated subtle touching. You know, hand on arm when making a point sort of thing.
* A complete stranger came up to us and said we 'looked good together', and asked how long we had been a cpuple. E-bird said to her, "We've just started dating."
* She is wonderful and I really like her.
* She made it clear several times that moving out of Melbourne would not be an option for her. It wasn't said directly, as such. We're not going out, and we weren't discussing moving or anything, but she managed to steer the conversation into that sort of direction several times, as well as asking things like, "Do you miss Melbourne? Do you ever foresee coming back?"
* She is the same height as me (6'). But her ex boyfriend was Burmese, and she did refer to them as 'small' (she's been to Burma!) and so I'm guessing I'm taller than him. Even so, if she gets in heels, she'll be taller. I still don't know how I feel about that. I know, I know, I shouldn't be so old-fashioned, and Patchouligirl doesn't mind her fella being shorter, and, well, yeah...
* At 1.30pm she announced she wanted to go to to sleep and so I walked her back to apartment. I went for a kiss, and was only offered a cheek. Bad sign. Maybe.
I shall be emailing her today requesting a third date.
Had band/family duties rest of weekend.
Highlight: Fish n Chips for lunch, Sunday.
Lowlight: Finally Richmond wins a fucking game, a thriller no less, and I missed the whole thing.
(The sexors happened last night with my sometimes-lover of the last 3 years, Miss Artist, who has made it very clear to me that I am 'too old' to ever consider as a boyfriend, but 'just right' as a sometimes-lover. She gave me what I believe Gen Y refer to as a 'booty call', which is a terribly uncouth term for what is a wondrous act. It was a fine night because we also went to see the original 'The Time Machine' at The Astor. Great line. The main guy was 50,000 years in the future talking to this chick who lived in a kind of Eden where they just sat aroud frolicking and grazing on fruits, and he was trying to explain machines and science to her and she didn't understand. He said to himself, "Oh, there's no point trying to make her understand. It would be like trying to explain these things to someone on the island of Bali in my own time!")
Now before you jump up about me having sex with Miss Artist, consider this: Miss Artist is also the last person I had sex with (about 6 weeks ago) and we have been intimate (when single) for three years. It's just the type of relationship we have and I don't think it impedes my thought processes about anyone else. I happen to think it is a very beautiful relationship and understanding we have. So get fucked.
Why am I writing all this on the fucking internet?