I had a friend from high school, and his girlfriend, in town on Friday afternoon and night. They were the first people to come visit me since I got here, so I was excited to be able to show them around town. They were on a “Southern Comfort 2005 Tour,” or the “SoCo 05 Tour,” as we dubbed it - wedding in North Carolina, beach at Hilton Head, touristy days in Charleston and Savannah. I was their last stop.

We had a very nice time - I took them down to the river during the day and we walked and had a beer. Then we drove around the squares and oohed and aahed at the extensively-pierced undergrads walking around. We did the Gallery Hop of different painting grad exhibitions, they treated me to tapas and wine in City Market, and then we bar-hopped.

The last stop was this Irish pub that the painting grads all seem to go to. My friend/crush called me to say he was going and that I should come, so of course I showed. I have no game.

So we had another very nice conversation about movies and books, and discovered YET ANOTHER favorite author we share - Richard Russo. I swear, if this guy is not charmed by me yet, I don’t know what else to do. I am being my wittiest! Actually it did seem like something is going on on his end, as he was doing more of his weird ambiguous touching. Namely, he was massaging my hand as we spoke. I mean, weird. I could barely focus on the conversation because I was freaking, and running steadily through my head was Holy crap he’s holding my hand in public! I looked across the table and my girlfriend who knows I love him was cracking up behind her beer, presumably at my terrified/ecstatic face.

Later on that night he also went to stroke my hair, and I jumped away as if cattle-prodded, because I am trying this new experiment where I only wash my hair every other day, and this was the bad day so my hair felt not-so-fresh. He was like, “Ooh, you’re so nervous. Don’t be nervous,” and I sort of chuckled weakly.

Perhaps on our first wedding anniversary I’ll let him know why I really jumped away, and why I tense up when he comes up behind me and strokes my upper arms (to make them seem flexed and less flabby).

I know, I’m insane. All you girls out there understand though, right? Please say yes.