C is For Cookie, That's Good Enough for Me

I have been up to my eyeballs in work this weekend, which sucks for many reasons, not least of which is that I was dying to write in about the updates with my salsa instructor.

So, after Tuesday's very weird day with him, I decided that I would respond to his suggestion/demand that someone bring in a snack for the class by making him cookies. I, in fact, made him my brother's favorite cookies.

When I brought in the cookies, we had a very cute interaction that went thusly (imagine his voice being cute and flirtatious, not standoffish as it may seem he was in the transcript):

Me: I brought you something.

Him: Cookies?!?

Me: Yeah, well, last class, you demanded someone bring a snack.

Him: I did not demand.

Me: You insisted.  You said you would make us do spin drills the whole time if no one brought you a snack.

Him: I just said it would be nice if someone brought in food.

Me: I think you were faint from hunger, and your memory is wrong.  You said you would make us do spin drills until we threw up.

Him: Maybe we should ask the others.

Me: They won't remember.

Him: Are these for me, or for the class?

Me: For you, but you can share them with whoever you want.  They're your cookies.

Him: For the class.

So, then, during class, I could feel him watching me more than usual. It's expected that he would watch me some of the time since he is a teacher, and he is supposed to be correcting my abysmal footwork, but I think he watches me more than he has to. It's strange because I'm very aware of him and when he's watching me, and that has never been the case with any other guy I've been interested in. Maybe he just has a particularly penetrating gaze.

On our break, he busted out the cookies for the class. I had worried that he might not eat them because I think he tries to keep things pretty healthy, but he threw his face right in the cookies, and he said how good he thought they were. I don't think he was just being polite because: (1) the Known Associate can bake the heck out of some cookies and (2) the rest of the class fell upon the cookies like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat, and they would have no reason to eat them out of politeness. (One girl nearly got her eyes clawed out for asking if the cookies were from a mix. She only avoided that fate because I gave her the benefit of the doubt for not knowing how I roll and because I didn't want the object of my affections to see what a temper I really have.)

After class, I was getting ready to leave to walk to the train, and he called me back over to him. We were talking facing in opposite directions with my entire side pressed around his entire side and my hand on his ribcage. I have noticed that when he has his druthers, we talk completely pressed up against each other, which suits me fine as well but seems like maybe not something a guy who just wants to be friends would do. So, then I told him he had to take the rest of the cookies home because they were his cookies, and he said, "Oh, I'm taking them home." (Never have I wished so fervently to be cookies.) He went to walk out into the waiting area where the cookies were, and I followed behind him, and rather sluttily held on to the waistband of his jeans while we were walking. In other words, I totally had my hand in the back of his pants like a big old skank (and it was awesome). Then, I proceeded whorishly to run my finger down the crease of his shirt and ask him if it was new, leading to a discussion of how it wasn't but it just had creases from being folded up in his closet. For the grand finale, he grabbed me and pulled me over to him to kiss me on the cheek.

Melt.

Put On Your Red Shoes and Dance the Blues

Okay. It's time to start drinking again. Possibly in some kind of bender situation.

This afternoon, I gathered my courage and went over to the restaurant where my salsa teacher bartends at lunch. At first, he didn't seem that excited to see me, and I felt awkward, but he warmed up quickly before I had a chance to escape without asking him to my friend's party. We chatted about a wide range of subjects: my recent trip, work, how he always wanted to be a lawyer, money and why it should be saved, and some other stuff. Finally, I just said, "If you don't have any plans on Saturday, my friend is having a party, and you should come." And his response was, "I do have plans." He's going with his co-instructor for salsa to something, which he proceeded to tell me about in great detail and basically reveal he was a little leery of going. However, at no point did he suggest that even though he was unavailable to hang out with me at my suggested time, we could hang out another time. I completely believe that he has these other plans, especially since it would be pretty retarded of him to invent fake plans with someone I also know that I could easily verify if I were so inclined. But I felt like he was horrified that I asked, and then I felt overwhelmed with awkwardness. Like, he's always so nice to me and acts excited and happy to see me, so why is he acting so appalled that I would invite him to a party? I mean, it's not like I asked him if he wanted to elope.

And then things got even weirder. After he finished telling me all about the plans he has that preclude him from being my date for the evening, he said, "There's something different about your eyebrows." Just take a minute to soak in that statement. There's something different about my eyebrows? Then he was like, "They look thinner." As my face increasingly displaced a "What the fuck?" expression, he added, as an after thought, "They look good though." What the fuck? Obviously, that means he thinks they looked weird. If he thought they looked good, he would have led off with, "Your eyebrows look nice," or some such thing. I wanted to kill myself. Especially since I haven't done anything to my eyebrows beyond routine maintenance, and I'm now wondering if Teh Doggeh is messing with them while I sleep.

So, I totally did not want to go to salsa class tonight or, indeed, ever, ever again, but everyone I told this to acted like: (1) he was giving me a compliment with the eyebrow remark, unusual as that compliment may have been, (2) he probably just didn't think to suggest alternate plans for Saturday, and (3) not going to class would make me a giant baby. I debated with myself until the last minute what to do but ultimately chose to go.

Class was not overtly awkward, but I felt weird anyway. I didn't say hi to him when I came in. Instead, I glued myself to my Blackberry and refused to look at him until he chased me out of the waiting room and into the studio a full ten minutes before class began like an imperious jackass. He flirted with me a little in class, but he mostly flirted with his co-instructor. I am trying not to hate her because she is actually very cool and nice, but between the fact that she already nabbed him for plans on Saturday and the fact that they have such a playful relationship and the fact that I am immature, I am really having trouble maintaining warm, friendly thoughts toward her.

I don't even know what to do with myself at this point. I have gotten much more invested in this man that I ever intended to, and now I feel like he's blown me off and criticized my appearance, and I feel like I'm too ugly to live and too lame for him to hang out with. I pretty much want to throw up, then cry.

And You Thought He Was Cute Before, Look at This Peacoat, Tell Me He's Broke

Oh, Cedric Diggory playing Edward Cullen. I basically hate Edward Cullen in the books, but Cedric Diggory is so freaking cute that he kind of wins me over in the movie. I needed to put this up here to cheer myself up.

When You Call, I'm Pressing Seven, Don't Want to Hear Your Messages, I'm Trying to Erase You From My Mind

I am in a self-esteem free-fall. I have been thinking of asking my salsa crush to my friend's annual holiday party this weekend. Half the world is invited to this party. People fly in from around the country to attend. I figured it would be a low-pressure, low-cost way for us to spend time together and get to know each other outside the scope of his employment. It's all well and good to dance with him and visit him at his bartending job, but, at some point, if the relationship is to progress even to a real friendship, we need to hang out when he's not being paid to be with me. Otherwise, he's, like, my gigolo or something, and that is unsavory.

Anyway, I have worked myself into a complete tizzy over whether I should even invite him to the party and, if so, how I should go about doing it. A crush is supposed to be fun. A friendship is supposed to be fun. Putting a heap of pressure on myself is not fun.

On top of that, I am about ready to murder Catalano. Catalano, for those who haven't known me long, is a guy I went on a couple of dates with in my old city. Basically, he would call me to hang out when he was on the outs with his girlfriend. She was (and, I think, still is) very into the make-up-break-up routine, and I guess he is too since he continues to participate in whatever games she wants to play. He eventually reconciled with her for a sizeable chunk of time, and I called him out on sending mixed signals. He apologized, and we resolved to be friends. That went fine as long as he was still with her, but they broke up again recently and, true to form, he started calling me a lot more often. He even said on several occasions that he planned to come visit me between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I emailed him to suggest two possible weekends (this weekend and the following weekend), and he didn't say anything to me about that, even though he responded to other aspects of the email.

At this point, I feel like he treats me like the runner-up for his affections and calls me only because he can't stand to be alone for five seconds. It's not flattering to feel like a guy is only calling because he can't be with the person he really likes or that I would be dropped like a hot potato as soon as his ex-girlfriend decided she wanted him back (which I am convinced she will because in the two years I have known him, they have broken up and gotten back together about four times). I am fine with our being friends, but I do have feelings for him. Those feelings don't get in our way as long as he's being clear with the message that all he wants is friendship, but everything is in a tumult as soon as he starts hinting that he might be interested in more. Then, of course, I get my feelings hurt when he doesn't follow through with those hints. I wish that I could just stop having those feelings for him so I wouldn't get my hopes up when he starts hinting, but as much as I've tried, that hasn't happened. I care about him, but I'm wondering if the only solution is for us to go our separate ways and stop trying to be friends.

If I Told You You Were Beautiful, Would You Date Me on the Regular?

Justin Timberlake is a poet, y'all. Not at the level of Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift, but a poet of formidable talent nonetheless.

So, I am a little worried about my growing interest in my salsa instructor/acquaintance-cum-friend. I had a bunch of different dreams about him last night, and I thought about him constantly while I was in South America. (The fact that he is from South America probably played a part in that.) I have been keeping tabs on him through a well-known social networking site (what? that's why that site exists), and his status updates suggest he is having lady troubles. Now, the Known Associate does not like to have to cut bitches, but the Known Associate is not afraid to do what must be done.

While I was gone, my love interest was talking to our mutual friend (the one who introduced us) about me. Said mutual friend went to the restaurant where he tends bar for lunch, and she said he was talking about me before she could get her coat off and mentioned I was unable to attend salsa class last week because of my vacation and that he was having fun in class. This led me to believe that he might be at least a little bit interested in me, but now I am scowling skeptically at my computer and wondering if he is, in fact, interested in some other lady. He toys with my emotions!

The Truth Is, I Never Left You...

...Or at least my luggage didn't. I flew back from Buenos Aires this morning, but my luggage opted to remain there for an extra day because it just loved the airport so much. Fucking luggage.

Argentina was amazing. It was my first time going to South America, and I really didn't have any expectations of the trip or even know what to expect. One of my friends studied abroad there and returns as often as he can, which is a ringing endorsement, but another woman to whom I spoke basically called it a shithole. I thought it was fabulous, and I completely understand what people mean when they call it "the Paris of South America." My enjoyment of the trip was aided greatly by the fact that my mom and I spent three of our four days with a good friend of hers who had moved back to Argentina the weekend before we arrived and who generously gave of her time and language skills to help us navigate the country. (In return, I bought her a fancy steak dinner at Cabana Las Lilas, which is a fucking awesome restaurant that I highly recommend if you're down South America way.)

I think the greatest part of the trip was the food. I have had empanadas before in New York, but the empanadas I had in Buenos Aires were a whole other level of culinary delight. I ate every emapanada that was foolish enough to get anywhere close to my gaping maw. We spent Thanksgiving Day in Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay (as one does), and, on the recommendation of my mom's friend, ate something called "chivitos" that is apparently a popular Uruguayan dish. Chivitos is basically some type of beef with ham on top of it and an egg on top of that and maybe some cheese in there, all served over a bed of French fries and potato salad. I shudder to think how many Weight Watchers points were in that bad boy, but I bet I could crash the Weight Watchers site trying to calculate it. My mom thought it was vile and repugnant, but I liked it.

If anyone is looking for Argentina-related advice for a future trip, I felt like the three full days we spent in Buenos Aires were sufficient to see everything but not get too bored. We ate at a fancy steakhouse (the above-mentioned Cabana Las Lilas), went to a tango show, visited La Boca, saw Evita's grave, visited the Recoleta area and did a ton of shopping. I also thought the day trip to Colonia del Sacramento was fun, as it is a beautiful town and it's just fucking cool to say you've been to Uruguay. I commend both the Argentines and the Uruguayans for their fondness for stamping passports (unlike, say, the Europeans, who never want to stamp my passport so I have only anecdotal evidence to prove I was in most of the European countries I have visited). In the course of a four-day trip, I racked up six passport stamps.

The only blight on the trip, and it is truly minor, was the fiasco with my lost luggage. I was told upon arrival at my final destination that my luggage is being sent tomorrow, so at least they know where it is, so I'm going to wait until then to have a complete meltdown about it. Mom and I arrived at the airport two hours early for our flight, and that was just insufficient time. Three hours early would be much better. We waited in a long line to check in, a long line to pay our airport departure tax of $18, a long line to go through security and then another long line to have our passports stamped again so we could finally get the hell out of their country. Oh, and then there was another line to have our hand luggage checked before we could board the plane, and I thought my mom might get arrested for assaulting airport personnel at that point. It was pretty ridiculous, and it all requires more than two hours to be done without rising feelings of panic over the possibility of missing the flight (especially if you have even a faint hope of having enough time to reclaim the taxes you paid on whatever you bought there, which Mom and I did not).

Anyway, I had a great time. I highly recommend these destinations for anyone thinking of going.

Lawyers in Love

The Known Associate is in love, y'all. Still with the salsa dancing guy. I went to my first salsa dancing class with him last night. He kissed me hello and danced with me a couple of times even when it wasn't his turn or I was supposed to rotate to a different partner. He even refused to let go of my hand once so I would stay with him instead of switching. Squeeeeee!