I wouldn't say I date up. Occasionally I've dated down. In general, I date money.
I'm used to being taken care of. My parents pay for everything. My mens pay for dates. I like it. I still believe in parental and gender roles, so I don't feel bad about it at all.
All day yesterday I had a very odd headache. Not hangover, not piercing forehead, not even pressure on top of the head. It was new. A periphery headache.
Needless to say it wasn't fun. I planned to go to a wine tasting with a wine club that I have yet to try and then to Saint for my first time on a Monday night and meet a good friend I haven't seen in a million years, but I didn't know if drinks and pounding music would be a good idea. Instead I stuck to the futon until RedSox called.
RedSox called to tell me the wine-tasting sold out and his connections were disconnected. I was kinda happy. The colts/bengals game was a go though if I was interested. I love football, so of course I was interested. He picked me up and we drove around the corner to get great burgers and watch the game.
It was a pretty typical date for us. Chatting randomly, enjoying each other's company, watching sports. I told him about my headaches. He told me about his stomach aches.
Around half-time we had finished our food. RedSox got up to go to the mens' room. I grabbed the bartender and paid.
Paying for a date might be MY next step in a relationship.
I think it's a comfort thing. I do expect men to pay because of my belief in gender roles, but more because I believe my time is worth it. I finally feel very comfortable with RedSox, so paying didn't feel weird to me.
When he got back, I got up to hit the ladies. He went to pay and I told him, "Put your wallet away, I've got this one."
And then I ran away.
Childish... a little. But it's still progress.
Tuesday, 19 December 2006
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