11-25-2002 - 11:45 p.m. - orlando who?

well, it's an understatement to say that I've been swept off my feet and turned into a gushy pontificating pile of romantic mess.

I spent last night cuddling with shy musician mike under a down comforter on a futon after saturday night live, talking about belly dancing, bagels, and our brothers. unbeknownst to me, the other two people in the studio apartment were having sex about 3 yards away. I wouldn't have cared. I had 738 spastic butterflies in my stomach preoccupying all extraneous thoughts I may have had.

I knew that waiting around for a nice one would eventually work.

I am smitten. so smitten in fact, that when a once-crush undressed me with his eyes, and suggestively asked what I was doing tonight, I was nearly repulsed. when it rains, it pours, I suppose.

when mike yawned, he said, "pardon." and it doesn't get any cuter than that. he's just as shy about making the first move as I am, so for clarification purposes, it didn't go any further than an extended friendly snuggle.

when I explained his polite factor to stephanie, she told me a nightmarish tale of her boyfriend deliberately farting on her today when she tried to drag him out of bed at 1 in the afternoon. they're apparently past the point of pleasantry in this relationship.

not that he was ever pleasant. (sorry steph.)