How do they always know?

So I had totally written off ever hearing from Bishop again. It's been about a month since I met him, and we only managed to have one very strained phone conversation. The last time I spoke to him was a week ago and he was supposed to call and didn't so I was like done, over, looking ahead.

So last night marks a full week since I had heard from him, which for me is the official death knell. I'm sleeping with my phone by me ( in case of emergency ie my gay friend JP Walt needs a place to crash in the city) and it rings at 2 am. I was expecting John Yule or maybe the Beast, but no it's Bishop. It seems that men always know right when I have absolutely given up on them and then they slide under the wire ( think Kevin Bacon in Footloose. DIGRESSION Incidentally one of my students was writing about the Salem witch trial and the opening sentence of her paper was "It was a dark time, when even dancing was consider a sin." All I could think of was, "Uh, is this a paper about Footloose?" I jokingly told her this in a private paper conference, and she laughed. She actually got the reference. DIGRESSION ENDS)

So as it turns out Bishop's mother is dying at Mt Sinai, which would explain his kind of erratic pattern. ( He's still crazy on top of it.) So we talked for a bit. He told me that I was the only person who he has keep in his phone for the last 3 months. To which I responded "Uh, we only met a month ago." He says "Well, I'm trying to tell you that basically things are very erratic now, and you're the only person I've really been in regular contact with." (Uh one call last friday at 12:30 is regular contact?) Then he goes on and on about how he's thought of me like every day. (File Under: I'll Let You Know When I'm Convinced) But really he does say every nice things which I WOULD LIKE TO BELIEVE ( You're beautiful, you're gorgeous, what man wouldn't want you? thankfully I resisted the urge to say to him "Would you like the list? Because I happen to have it right here."). I would like to, but I just can't. As my friend Mr. Bojangles said of me "You just live too much on this planet."

So par usuale he promises to call and we are going to get together...soon. ( Have your service call my service, we'll do lunch.) Which only prolongs the suffering. If he had just not called I could move on, but now in the back of my mind I'm going to be waiting for that damn phone call. I guess it's my fault. I could have let the phone ring. I could have told him I was asleep. But I didn't. Mainly because I didn't want to, I admit it, I wanted male attention. So now I've had my male attention quota for the week, I can go and grade mid terms for the rest of the weekend.

In other news, according to AOL scary movies can prolong your life. I am going to live forever!