You worry if it’s broken, but aren’t sure yet, the way you feel when you’ve just dropped your cell phone. You look at it carefully, turn it on, and for a minute you hold your breath. Relationships just take longer to turn on. Mostly, I’m turning blue, searching for an oxygen hit.

Elementally speaking, The Italian Job has been holding a strong A in CPR 101.  We went out Friday night to Megu upon his suggestion (absurdly expensive, but so damn worth it). They sat us at a table for two, but he decided he was too far away from me and moved to sit beside me (I love when they do this).  Then we kissed in the cab after dinner, where he said, "I’m so glad to have met you.  I like you so much Stephanie."  I love that he used my name. 

He had to work early in the morning, so he dropped me off at Fizz to meet the girls.  I received a smitten text from him the next morning, "Heading to the office.  Wish I had woken up in your hair. Actually, I wish I hadn’t waken at all."  Then another one that night… "My friends seem to have become boring, or maybe I’m just thinking of you too much."  That was Saturday night where I went to a friend’s birthday dinner, then home to The Lineman.  The Italian Job called a few times on Sunday.  I was despondent, so I didn’t answer.  I’d been making a day of tears and TNT.  I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to watch TNT without crying.  I mean, just watch RUDY once and you’re certain to shed a tear when he leads ‘em out of the tunnel for the first time.  The main character is a scrappy underdog with lots of heart, and those who beset him envy it.  He’s all heart.  My date was all hands, and he wanted tea.  I wasn’t in the mindset to leave my covers.

I phoned him back later, after he texted inviting me to his friend’s apartment to watch some game.  "I’m not going to your friends place to watch TV, never mind some crapass game.”  It’s mildly bitchy, but he’s not the type of guy to make more of the message than it is. 
"But when can I see you then?" He asked, then laughed,  promptly after receiving my text message.
"How about Tuesday?"
"How about right now.  Let’s have dinner."

So I cabbed it east and we did J.G. Melon’s.  He actually makes me laugh out loud, and aside from Chris Balls DiClerico, no one makes me laugh aloud.  So it was great.  I’m seeing him again tomorrow night.  God, is that man HOT!

The George didn’t call all weekend.  Thursday night, I was running around with the camera, so we didn’t get any quality time together.  While I’m very attracted to him, he’s a little dull.  I’ll have to see, or else let him go be "nice" someplace else.  I ended up calling and texting him yesterday.  He called back last night saying he was hungover all day.  That so translates to “dating and sleeping with other women all weekend.”

Captain Jack has been emailing me this whole time.  Wait till you hear this one…
 
“I miss you.  You’re amazing. When can I see you again?” landed directly in my inbox.  I still get a small thrill when I see something has arrived from him, even before I open it.  Then he followed up with a phone call.  I love when men layer this way. It’s similar to layering your perfume scent.  Body soap, lotion, perfume, one atop the next to sustain things, make them last.  The more pressure points he hits, the stronger his message.  Go on and layer up the messaging: IMs, emails, phone calls, phone text messages, snail mail, small notes and gifts left with the doorman. Unless you’re first attempts are never recipricated, in which case, cease and desist.

Captain Jack’s voice message:   "Hey Klein, when we were dating, did you happen to have a cold sore in your mouth?"  Nah-uh.  He did not!

"Um, no.  Are you okay?"  I started laughing when I said okay… which I knew would be okay with Jack.

Turns out it was a pimple, but he did learn, upon some probing, that he has hemorrhoids. I love that he told me all of this.  I am still laughing.  That’s a HARD call to make to someone.  I sent him an email letting him know he was in my thoughts.  “How’s the HEMline?  Still rollin’ with the ‘roids?”  He wants to hang out this week, after some warm water soaking.  “Once the inflammation goes down.”   

Sagaponack Struan calls Thursday night.  What an ASS and a HALF.  Background:  I invited him to be my date to a Movie Premiere 2 weeks ago.  "I’d love to."  Then after our date, where there was some mild weirdness, with a touch of chicking out on my part, I asked him if he still wanted to go.  "I really want to, but it’s my Mother’s Birthday that Monday, but we’re celebrating that Thursday."  PAHLEEZE.  He must have totally forgotten that he’d said any of that because his message to me on Thursday night was, “Hey you.  What you up to?  I really want to hang out, so call me when you get this tonight.”  What a dumbass, calling to invite me out on the one night he claimed he was busy. 

And that, dear friend, is my weekend roundup.