Game On

It's Game Day in the South, ladies and gentlemen. College football around here is a BIG deal. Everyone has a team and we all talk smack about the other teams. And it starts before the season does. In fact, it never really ends. It just intensifies come kick off.

Drive through any southern state and you'll see every college represented by people who have never known a person who attended that school. ((In *my* defense, I am a Florida fan because my almost 5 year old is a Florida fan. He, obviously, has never attended college in Gainesville - even though he plans to. However, the Ex made this little one the fan that he is. The kid will hardly wear anything NOT Orange and Blue. This makes shopping in South Georgia rather difficult... the land of the Georgia Bulldogs))

I'm getting way off track. As I said, it's Game Day and the shortest of the short people and I are heading to The Swamp. Gator Country. God's Country. So if I seem a bit distracted in writing this post, that would be why. I have a little man in a Gator jersey yelling "Two Bits! Four Bits! Six Bits! A Dollar! ALLLLL for the Gators- stand up and Holler!!!" BUT- if I don't get this post written, I have a few readers who have threatened to off my head... (most of them Bulldog fans. Smh.) So here I am. On game day. Writing this blog post.

You're welcome.

I haven't heard from Mr. White. He still hasn't returned from Spain, but he has been on Facebook, so I don't suppose I will hear from him. Does it bother me? Honestly? Yeah. It does. But, truthfully, I think it's only because I have to be wanted. It drives me crazy when a man doesn't want me. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of men who have zero interest in me. But those are usually men that just don't know me. I don't typically go for men so far out of my league anyway. I think I'm a solid 7, so I can date an 8... even as low as a 5 because looks aren't THAT important when it comes to something long-term. But, when I feel like a man is within the standard 7/8 range on the looks scale and he doesn't care to pursue me- I feel challenged. I have to know why he doesn't try harder and I have to change it. Of course, what usually happens is they DO start trying and I immediately lose interest. I think there's something mis-wired in my brain. Or maybe I have too much "guy brain" going on. I don't know. But I know that if it's made easy for me- I don't want it. So back to the issue at hand. Mr. White has gone MIA. I know he's alive because of Facebook action, so now I don't know whether I should attempt to get his attention, or continue focusing my efforts on my Clooney.

Oh, sweet, sexy Clooney. Wait. Did I just call him sweet? Because I can't think of a conversation that we've had that has been particularly "sweet". But the man does have a way with words. And pictures.

I've told you that he's been out of state, as well, haven't I? He returns very soon. He wants to "watch Netflix and chill". Okay. I'll play along. We can "watch Netflix and chill". I can like that. Although, we don't play coy very long. We had only started texting when the photos started. That body. Dear God, that man has a body on him. Every thing from the curve of his shoulders, the tightness of his abs, those tan lines... that man muscle on either side of his abdomen that points precisely where your eyes would wander anyway (and you ladies know the "man muscle"... it's my favorite muscle on a man). The way he describes precisely what he wants to do to me upon his return rivals my own "sexting" skills.

He's not at all what you would expect from a man with his sexual appetite. He looks so... tame. Maybe those are the ones you have to watch, though. The quiet ones. The intelligent ones. The outdoorsy ones.

The "rest" of him is as perfectly built as what I've already described.

He's coming home.

To watch Netflix.

"And chill"

Ugh. This means I'll have to shave.