Saturday, Sept. 21, 2002 @ 3:09 am
Nice legs; shame about the face.
This whole thing is entirely unhealthy.
All I could think about last night was him. Coworker crush. All night. I bussed to work in the morning - I'd left my bike there because we went straight to the concert last night - and I was smiling the entire time. I just wanted to dance right there in the crowded aisle of the B-Line. Did you see an insanely happy girl laughing to herself on the bus this morning? That was me.
Yet another day of working constantly with him. We needed more blood donors, and he asked if he could use my blood. I, of course, agreed. However, I have a history of fainting when giving more than 6 tubes of blood. I thought I could be strong. I thought I could beat this weakness. He comes over beside me and asks if I'm going to be OK. I jokingly ask if he'll hold my hand. He starts to take off his gloves...
Needless to say, at tube 6 the world began to fade into the distance. Sweat beaded on my face and back. "Holy shit, she's going green." Yeah, well. I can't help it. It is perfectly fine until tube 6, and then I'm toast. Everyone in the lab came over to see the comotion.
As long as I entertain them. That's all that matters.
We went for beers after work. Predictably, he ended up beside me. He asked if I shaved my legs - "They look so smooth and hairless!" Goddamnit. And then for the whole 2 hours his leg sat just gently touching mine. I did the test: move leg away and see if he moves his to touch again. Results: leg moved right into place.
The conversation turned to tattoos. He said he had one. I asked where. He said, on his back, and then proceeded to start pulling up his shirt to show me. I had to hold the fabric back to see it. His skin... so warm.. so soft... The tattoo is a Chinese character. "That means 'strength' right?" He was very impressed that I knew that. But really, it's not a complex character.
After sharing 3 pitchers between 4 of us, it was time to head home. I'd locked our bikes together, crush and mine. We rode home together. Well, at least to his cross street - which is considerably a shorter distance than my commute. I am lucky I made it home. That was a lot of alcohol on an empty stomach after donating blood.
And I'm falling even harder from him.
Advice from my sister: "In my experience, when a guy starts telling you about his girlfriend issues, it means he's looking for validation - looking for reassurance that he has a right to be feeling like he wants out of the relationship. You are in a strategic position. Just keep being there for him."
After a shower and a snack, I headed to meet the Friday Nighter's at a campus pub. From there we went to gather more people, and then ended up on Broadway drinking more in a lounge. I did some quality flirting with the grad student that took over my bench when I left the old lab. Lots of leg touching and even tickling! Raaaawwwwweeeeer. School's back!
One of the new chicks told me that she loved my eyebrows. They are 'stunning'. Huh? Nice.
All I can think about is him.