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Hannibal finally owned up. Finally. Yesterday he wished me a happy birthday and I told him if he planned on still speaking to me he better let me know what the fuck went on with him. I told him from the beginning I wasn’t interested in fucking him to fuck. I’ve been there and done that. Amen to those who can do it, but after a while it just unfulfilling.

He actually used the line, it’s not you, it’s me. At this point I reinstated that I was in a relationship, so I don’t really care, and obviously it was his problem/loss since I am fucking amazing. He just told me what I already knew. He liked me, started to get attached and decided it would be better for both of us if he ran in the other direction. He didn’t know where he’d be in weeks/months/years, etc.

I just rolled my eyes and told him not to worry about it. I had fun while it lasted, and so did he. I rocked that boy’s world, he even said it himself. He also said he hopes Bad Boy appreciates what an amazing girl I am. It was sweet, but whatever. Clearing the air was good, but it also pissed me off a little. Nothing bothers me more than someone making my decisions for me. He decided what would be best for us, not just himself. But whatever, I got the good end of the deal.

On that note, I have been panicking a bit lately about my relationship with Bad Boy. Everything has been going amazingly. We get along well, we giggle at everything and we can be ourselves around each other. In fact we’ve been spending every waking possible moment together. By now under any normal circumstances I’d run in the other direction and be driven insane by his constant presence.

But now when he’s not around I miss him. I cleared a drawer without him needing to mention it. When I found his toothbrush in my bathroom I smiled.  Normally, jaded me would have nearly puked in my bathroom sink and demanded to know just who he thought he was to be leaving his shit all over my house. And by the way, bring your own fucking toothpaste.

But no. This..weirder…mushier version of me doesn’t mind that his laundry gets mixed in with mine, or that he has three pairs of jeans here and two hoodies. In fact, I wear the hoodies when he’s gone because they smell like him. The one night he can’t sleep here because he has to Jam with his band I sleep like shit. It’s appalling and it’s freaking me the fuck out.

Now no worries my minions, I’m not going to sabotage myself or pull back. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. There’s just a little bit of the old me lurking around going, “so dude, what’s the catch?”

Seriously. Thin Ice. Thin fucking ice.

For the second time Hannibal has gotten drunk and “forgotten” about me.  How flattering is that?

He apologized and I sarcastically told him to try to pencil me in this week. He didn’t catch that I was furious and being sarcastic. He replied, “well, you are due for a penciling”

He’s nothing if not clever.

In closing, I have a date tomorrow with the cute dude who gave me his number Thursday night, and I’m seeing the Bad Boy again this week.

Shit or get off the pot.

I hate doing this. But I need to vent. The whole Hannibal situation is fucking exhausting me.

The Good

• We have fun together
• There’s never any awkwardness
• The Sex is amazing.
• It’s not only about Sex.
• He lives right across the street.
• He’s older
• He’s patient
• He’s adventurous
• My friends like him
• His friends like me.
• The Chemistry.

The Bad

• He hasn’t made it official
• He doesn’t call, we only talk via msn (which I am mostly okay with)
• He has a bad habit of saying “Brb” and not coming back.
• He calls the bruises on my legs, stripper bruises.
• I have no idea if he’s going to pack up and move home.
• He’s flaked out on me a few times.
• He’s sitting at home right now playing on his 360, after telling me we’d see each other this weekend.

The Ugly

• No job.
• He hasn’t made it official.
• I don’t know if he’s going to pack up and move.

What’s a girl to do?

Last night was Wednesday. As such it was half price Wing night at the bar around the corner.

Yes..this is the bar that High Five plays at. My friends and I headed out around 10pm, and I asked Hannibal to join us. High Five had been texting me almost daily for the last two weeks; offering to bring me soup and tea when I was sick, asking me out to lunch, texting at 12am to see what I was doing.

I can only dodge and play nice for so long. I don’t have feelings for High Five anymore, he’s ruined it with his games and flip flopping feelings. I’ve told him point blank I was seeing someone, and I was beginning to think that maybe High Five had convinced himself that Hannibal didn’t really exist.

High Five ignored me for most of the night, he sent me a random text saying “Hey Blondie” which I ignored. If you don’t have the guts to come say hi in person, please don’t bother. We were all having a good time eating out wings, telling stories and Hannibal was getting to know my friends.

My friends even adore him, that never happens in Carrie-land. Finally around midnight High Five decided to plunk himself down beside Hannibal and make things awkward by saying hi. It went fairly smooth all things considered. Hannibal kept his cool while subtly putting his arm around me as I wiggled closer. I had about 5 Purple Hazes at this point (3 of which were doubled for free..thank you boobies..I mean bartender.)

Oh sweet revenge. High five just narrowed his eyes and excused himself.  We were all feeling pretty good (ie horribly drunk) at this point so we decided to head to Hannibal’s to play Singstar and drink more. Great idea right? Who doesn’t love singing horribly off key while doing tequila shots until 3:30am? I’m sure the neighbors all love us now.

The night wrapped up and I asked Hannibal if he wanted to sleep at my place. Churf was staying over because she couldn’t drive in her current state, and buses stop running around 1am. He coyly asked if I wanted to stay at his place instead.

Obviously I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to send Churf to my place alone so I could have some late night nookie.  I even mumbled something about “bros before hoes”. I said it without thinking and everyone started laughing while Hannibal asked if I was calling him a hoe while feigning offense. Again I suggestion he come to my place.

Want to know why he’s been avoiding sleeping over, or hanging out at my place for so long? My dog. I laughed and asked if he was afraid of my 110 pound teddy bear. He replied that he was no such thing, however he didn’t want to do the horizontal tango with my dog watching.

…Does he not realize my bedroom has a door? I managed to convince him to come over and we had our second sleepover.  We both sleep like rocks with each other. All night my bedroom door kept blowing open and closing, Churf told me how annoying it was this morning..we didn’t hear it. I also clearly remembering rolling over to cuddle up behind Hannibal and my cheek landed in a huge damp drool spot on my favorite pillow.

Sexy.

Either way we had a great night. Several times my friends accidentally called Hannibal my boyfriend (neither of us corrected them), and than kgod my internet wasn’t working late last night because he sat at my computer when we got home and my homepage (which is this blog) was sitting open on the screen. Luckily it had tried to refresh after my internet stopped working.

Phew. It would have been interesting trying to explain that.

I have a love/hate relationship with facebook. I love it, because its one of the easiest ways to keep in touch and find old friends. I hate it because lately  I’ve been overwhelmed by hoards of idiotic men trying to woo me and ask me out on it. I’m sorry..it’s facebook, not adult friend finder. No I am not interested.

For starters, if you barely spoke to me in high school, chances are when you try to add me and charm me now I’m just going to roll my eyes at you and eventually block or delete you. Don’t comment on my status, don’t comment on every single picture I put up.

It’s nauseating.

It’s actually gotten to the point where I’ve considered changing my relationship status to just say nothing. It might help a few dead beats leave me alone, and who knows, maybe Hannibal will notice and it will initiate some sort of “what are we” conversation.

On the other hand I have a block list a mile long both because of the ex, his friends all these idiotic men. Speaking of which, I’m sure some of you remember me writing about my exes “fake” relationship with a 19 year old twit back when we were still fooling ourselves into thinking we may work things out. I found out recently that she’s been making fun of me on his wall saying redundant things like, “Oh noes, now that we’re broken up I’m going to delete you and block all your friends”

I would like to point out that I find this mildly amusing. We broke up almost 6 months ago. Get over it. Stop talking about it. Move on. It’s also amusing because it’s not like I can see her “witty” comments, so what’s the point? All I end up doing is chuckling and reminding myself of how amazing I am.

It started out simple enough. Sunday night football was on, Hannibal was ordering pizza. Then he asked me to come over to keep him company. After my entire weekend had been a total wash I was very excited to get out of the house, even more so to spend it with him.

The catch: I don’t follow football. I haven’t watched a game since highschool. When I’m confused or bored I babble and ask all sorts of questions. Hannibal said this was fine, he’d explain anything to me..points for him. Most guys expect complete silence and concentration when it comes to watching sports. I have to admit I was a little wary when he said he wouldn’t mind my babbling and endless questions..so I did what any sensible girl would do: I snuck a book over to this apartment in my purse. If things got out of hand I would read.

I didn’t need to. I didn’t even need to ask any questions, it turns out that football is fairly straight forward. Why haven’t I bothered to watch it before? I have to admit, it was an interesting experience. When the game was over and I quipped “So the Colts and Saints are going to the Superbowl?” Hannibal eyeballed me. Okay, I blew my cover a little there..I may or may not have done some googling before heading over to watch the final championship game with him. I am nothing if not well prepared.

At this point we’ve devoured an entire extra large pizza, have just been chilling on the couch in sweats,  speaking only during the commercials to tease each other about random bits in our lives. This is comfort. This is effortless. This is clearly how things should be. The moment I realized this I panicked, luckily I kept it to myself by going into the washroom and pretending to pee while playing scenarios in my head. Where was the catch? What was wrong with my perfectly adorable, grown up, 31 year old suitor? When was something going to go wrong? Something always does.

And yet nothing did. We watched an entire movie (Don’t Mess with the Zohan), laughing so hard we snorted, and switching couch positions once in a while. My head in his lap, his in mine, my head against his chest with his arm encircling my back, the other stroking my knee. I’ve never ever met someone who makes my stomach absolutely twitch with butterflies. It’s both nauseating and exciting (and nerve racking)

At around 2am I disentangled myself to briefly pop into my own apartment to take Bacardi for as quick walk Hannibal gives me his spare set of keys to let myself in, and it takes every ounce of self control I have to keep from skipping across the street. This dude has me hook, line and sinker. Clearly I am doomed.

I won’t bore you with all the deets, but we stayed up until about 5am watching movies, cuddling and doing all sorts of other…things (ahem). When we did finally crawl into bed we took our sides, he wrapped his arms around me and we both fell fast asleep. Since the breakup, whenever I’ve shared my bed over night I’ve slept like crap..tossing, turning, kicking waking up, but none of that happened on this night.

We both slept so soundly that we almost slept through his phone ringing at 10am. It was his mother. I tried (not) very hard to mind my own business and not eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help it. I heard something about his mother getting a call about passports, and telling him to let her know when he hears anything so they can get his “things” ready. I’m laying there, trying very hard to ignore the knot in my stomach while he non nonchalantly talks about passports and making phone calls at 11am.

What kind of phone calls Hannibal? What the fuck kind of phone calls? They better not be the phone calls I have a feeling they may be! At this point I needed to leave. My mind was a mess as I tried to piece together the scraps of information I overheard. After he hung up I asked the time, and used Bacardi as an excuse to get out of there.

At first he didn’t seem to be buying it, he wanted to cuddle and sleep more..I on the other hand felt the need to rip myself away from him. I had no idea what was going on with these “phone calls” but I wasn’t impressed. I explained that having a dog is like having a small child and I excused myself.

He seemed genuinely confused as I started pulling my clothes on (hell, he was confused? I was 10x more so.) and he followed me to the door as I left before firing all sorts of questions at him, he of course wouldn’t let me leave until he pulled me in for one more kiss (impressive considering the morning breath) told me he owed me breakfast, kissed me on my forehead and raised an eyebrow at me.

I told him not to worry about breakfast..another time maybe. And before I could help myself I was trying to find out about these phone calls he was making. Turns out he was making some call backs about jobs. I desperately wanted to know if these phone calls were in town here, or in his home town. I couldn’t bring myself to ask, but I think I may have found the catch to all of this.

It probably also explains why we haven’t had any conversations about our relationship status. I have a horrible feeling there still may be a chance of him moving back home. I hope not.  I would like to think he wouldn’t let us be so..coupley and attached if he may be leaving again.

I have no idea what to do from here. I could just wait it out, but at what point does “waiting it out” start to seem like not caring?

So it’s Friday night. If you’ve read the last few entries about Hannibal you’d know that he had invited me to a comedy thing tonight. Much to my disappointment I didn’t end up going. He asked if I was still planning to go, and when I asked how much it was going to cost (I was being polite dammit, I thought he’d be like-don’t worry about it) he told me it’s 25$. Fuck that. I have like 10$ to my name right now.

He apologized and explained that he had to go since he had promised his friend. I said it wasn’t a big deal, and to have a fun time. He apologized again and said he’d let me know when the comedy event was over. I agreed and to be honest I was sort of looking forward to just bumming around and relaxing until he got back.

I assumed he’d be back around 11. Midnight rolls around and I’m planning on telling him I’m not coming over because it’s too late. By 1am I’m hrming a hawing..but still calm. Finally at 1:30 he messages me to tell me he’s home. I was in bed reading and mildly annoyed that I had to get out of bed to answer his messages, but I did because I really like this dude and this is the first time he’s fucked up.

him:I’m so sorry

me: Sorry for what?

him:I said I’d call you after the comedy thing, but we ended up heading to another bar for a drink after.

me: You don’t need to apologize. Was it good?

him: It was okay I suppose..

Of course I wanted to be like, “You should be sorry you thoughtless twit!” but I’m not upset about it, I just was looking forward to going out tonight with him. I let it slide. I don’t want to be overbearing and we aren’t even a “real” couple anyway.

He asked what I did with my night and I told the truth, I lazed around and it was awesome. Then he asked this, “Oh. Why didn’t you go out though? Did you not want to, or were you waiting for me.” Let me be completely honest here, I did not stay in just to wait for him. I haven’t been feeling well and I needed the alone time. But how the fuck do you answer that? Obviously I told him I just wanted some alone time..I wasn’t going to admit I was waiting for him to call because heeelllloooo desperate!

I do have to admit though, I am a little disappointed that he didn’t call, then again shit happens and it’s his first offense. He promised me a sleepover and breakfast this weekend though (we even pinky swore..yes we’re cool) and if he falls through on that I think I may have to cut him loose(Unless he has a super good reason). I really like the guy, but come on.

I vaguely remember him making plans with a friend for Saturday day/night so if the sleepover doesn’t happen tomorrow night I won’t be too displeased. I’m just getting impatient.

I’m sick of being avoided by Hannibal, so I am taking matters into my own hands. He finally went to the Doctor and found out he has the Swine Flu. I am not so sure, but whatever. So basically I told him he needed someone to take care of him-and it would be me. No if ands or buts.

I also told a white lie and said I had going my H1N1 shot so I’d be fine. I did have the swine flu back in the beginning of November (I think that’s what it was) so I should be fine. As previously stated, I doubt that’s what he has anyway. If I get sick so be it.

So I am currently burning the last two episodes from season two of True Blood, and I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. He will love it. We also will probably order take out. I thought about doing something cutesy like showing up with Chicken Noodle Soup but..well..that’s just not me. I’d much rather burn the boy raunchy movies and bring the book its based off of for him to check out.

It’s how I roll yo. I do have to say I am retardedly excited to see him.

Hannibal has switched to the dark side. Then again, any man I’ve known has acted like a complete and total woman when they’re sick. All of my exes would need to be babied, in a stunning turn of events Hannibal is the exact opposite:he gets super anti-social and doesn’t want anyone seeing him looking that horrible.

Super girly, right? Apparently my calling him a pussy because of it isn’t getting me any points either. To make a long story short, when we went out with another couple on Friday (I can admit it, being invited alongside another couple did make me feel all gooey inside) he was starting to feel stuffed up. The rest of us told him to suck it the fuck up-after all gin, tequila or whiskey would clear that right up. Apparently by the time we left the bar he’d had enough. On the way home he made the cab stop at Shoppers while he ran in to buy some nasal spray.

Nothing is sexier than a man shoving a tube up his nose. I assure you. We all got dropped off at his place, and I came home to take Bacardi out before I headed back to his place for a night cap. Only, as you’ve read, I didn’t make it there. In my somewhat drunken stupor I passed out on my bathroom floor while spooning a red bucket.

I am classy.

The next day I talked to Hannibal and apparently he had woken up horribly sick. We’re talking green snot an sniffles, so he said it was a good thing I ended up sleeping on my bathroom floor. Right guy. I honestly don’t care about boogers and phlegm. Not when I like a guy anyway. He was even thinking about cancelling on the birthday festivities that night.

I of course told him this was unacceptable.  I told him to drink some tea, lay down and give me a call if he wanted me to come over and play nurse. He proceeded to pass out until I was leaving for another party. ( I had to go to Rogue’s engagement party for a bit, before hitting the birthday festivities)

So finally at around 11pm I rolled in, borrowing my friend’s car. I made a decision not to drink and the results were pretty hilarious. I was the only person in the entire entourage that wasn’t hammered. I got along with his friends, and Hannibal asked me to come along this Friday to a comedy thing they’re all going to. Sweet. Then he had to joke about me being his married friend’s date. It was cute the first time, the second time I wanted to smack him.

Anyway, eventually it died down. I noticed Hannibal still had two full drinks sitting in front of him while he nursed his beer. I was appalled. He claimed that he couldn’t drink that much when he was on cold meds. Whatever, pussy. I shut my trap because he was after all, the birthday boy.

Then he started talking about going home to take some NyQuil and pass out. I alluringly draped myself on him and asked if he’d be staying up for a bit at least. He hummed and hawwed, before stating that no, he really did need his sleep, and I wouldn’t want to see him in the morning with snot running out of his nose.

First off, who said I had to sleep over? Second off, I don’t care about your snot. The ironic thing is, the first time we hung out after finding each other on facebook, I was horribly ill and he made me hang out anyway. Silly boy. Anyway, we all left the bar and I was a little glum, and told him my ego was a tad bit bruised. He told me I was being silly since any other time he’d be up for it.

Bah.

Fast forward to today. We spoke briefly and he was still feeling shitty. I was heading out with some friends, but told him we should meet up later, since I give amazing back rubs and he hasn’t seen the last few episodes of True Blood yet. He said he was pretty sure I wouldn’t want to see him like that (like seriously. I don’t care for the last time.) and maybe we should wait one more day, but he’d shower and see if that helped.

He must have passed out or something because I didn’t hear from him once I got back and his MSN is still on away-he’s always off msn and in bed by now. Maybe tomorrow will yeild better results. I’ve been dodging texts from another guy who keeps wanting to meet up (presumably for sex) but I’m over the whole booty call thing and I really really really like Hannibal. But frig.

Hopefully he gets over being sick soon. I’d almost rather have to take care of him, than wonder if he’s got the plague or something.

No seriously. I did. With my clothes half off and an arm around a bucket. Bacardi was nudging at me with his wet nose. I think he may have been worried.

The last thing I remember is sloppily kissing Hannibal outside his apartment (he lives literally across the street)and telling him I’d buzz him as soon as I took Bacardi out. Here are a few things I do happen to remember from last night:

• starting to drink and thinking this may not be a good idea.
• quickly becoming drunk due to lack of food in my system
• remembering that drinking after getting a flu shot is dumb.
• dancing with Hannibal and his friends at some awful club.
• his friend asking me what Hannibal and I were, and me laughing and drunkenly slurring “hell if I fucking know.”
• agreeing to go out again tonight for his birthday. This time we will end up at a strip club at the end of the night.
• hurling into said bucket and admiring the fact that it was purple and red

I know. I know. Stop trying to touch me through the screen. I am sexy. Tonight I am not drinking.