Warning: Elevation of mood may cause extreme sappiness, random cliches, and generally hallmark-i-ness

Oh that man of mine. He was over last night. And let me just tell you, it takes a real man, I mean a dirty harry go ahead make my day kind of man, to kiss me in my bed and leave me there fully clothed.

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.

And you know what's really amazing? It's a good thing. It's a great thing. It's a fabulous thing.

Really.

See most men deal with me the way John Cleese described sex in his sex education class in the movie "Monty Python and the Meaning Life" "Why must we go stampeding towards the clitoris?"

Ok maybe that was a little more graphic than it should have been. But really most men are in such a rush to take me to bed. And this guy wants me. Trust me. The, uh, for lack of a better terms, hard evidence is there, but the man has discipline.

He came over to my apartment last night because he knows starting Sunday nights I get very anxious. So we had half a bottle of wine, and we were sitting on the couch. And he kept looking very seriously in the direction of my bed (I live in a studio). It wasn't a sexy look, more concerned, contemplative. Finally, I asked what he was thinking. He said, he didn't want to rush toards intimacy, that he had even debated coming over to my place after only one week. ( A debate I myself had just hours earlier.)

He is one of the few people who have been in my apartment who even noticed my collages on the walls ( he really liked them-liked particularly the high heel collage, which is of course, my only way of expressing desire and admiration for the shoes I can never wear).

So we kissed for a while. We even kissed in my bed, fully dressed, I swear. OK, OK, he took off his sweater, but it was hot. I mean temperature wise. I mean.

You know what I mean.

( But I would like to say, for the record, MUCH better body than I had imagined. And I have a pretty good imagination.)

I digress.

Anyway, we kissed for a good long while, but surprisingly what we did the most, even in my bed, was talk. And it's been a long time since a man lay in my bed and engaged in intelligent conversation. And even longer since a man looked at my books and said "What? No history or political science?"

And then after a while, he gets up and goes home. ( Of course as he is pulling his coat on he says, "This is discipline." Yes, yes it is.)

What's terrifying is he says these things to me like "You are very important to me" and "I care about you a great deal" and I am beginning to think they are true.

The problem is in the past I haven't displayed what many people would call extrodinarily competent mate selection. I mean, I spent 2 years with some moron who couldn't tell me he loved me or admit that we were in a long term relationship. And that was one of the not so bad relationships I was in. Especially since Eric, I have a very hard time trusting my own instincts about men. And this is the first man I have had feelings for that I could actually have. No emotional baggage, no significant other, no commitment issues, not even a drug dependency problem ( thank you speed freak, for all the memories). So I don't know if I should trust myself, or call a private detective.

Yesterday we were talking about what was the most attractive. To him it is my intellect ( or actually my twisted intellect as he called). I told him what it was that first attracted me ( the not chasing me into bed) which he simply thought of as manners.

But then, today, I was thinking that was really gotten to me about him is that he is always surprising me. I thought I knew how this relationship was going to go. He was going to be macho and try to chase me into bed. I would play with him for a while, perhaps add him to the harem, maybe not even that, and eventually dispose of him.

Now I find myself waiting for him to call.

And the change in my demeanor is overwhelming even to me. I am cheerful, quipping jokes, not phased by set backs at work.

And guess what? My classes are improving.

What is it about him is that he reminds me of that afternoon on the balcony-the on on Mandalay Bay. With him I feel that same surprise and wonder. That same sense that maybe more things are possible than I imagine. That the world is not such a predictable place.

Perhaps. Perhaps.