I'm crushing hard, and I think I like it....

So....I met a boy. Insert high-pitched Japanese schoolgirl giggling. It's pretty pathetic, but I've taken to giggling like some reject transplant from The Valley and I'm about to kick my own ass. I didn't just meet Noel, but I've put off writing a blog about him until I got passed the stage of feeling him out and got to the stage where I wanted him to feel me up. Juvenile, basic, but true. Problem is he lives in Toronto and I'm in London for the next 5 months before I return home. Now, logical and rational girl that I am, I was determined to not get involved. At the very least I planned to slow things down until I got back to Toronto, but that overwhelming "like" feeling sucker punched me and I'm now giggling and mooning through my day. Ugh, its a well known fact I hate overly happy people, and if I smile one more time I'm likely to kill myself out of sheer disgust. I fulfill my teeth showing quota for the day in less than an hour.

His blog alias is Noel, he's 24, an engineer working for a water systems management firm, and a member of Engineers Without Borders. He's totally cute, super nerdy, endearingly awkward and makes me smile with his little speech quirks (he says "right" before he starts any sentence, and he can't ever answer with one "No" or "Yes", its always like "No, no, no...." or "Yes, yes...."). His life is quiet, he calls it boring, but he's not dull, more mellow, calm, and introverted. That's where we differ, of course. I'm a total extrovert, loud, opinionated, out going....and my life is never boring. Still, we manage to have the most random things in common (Napoleon Dynamite, Martin, and the ol' school American Gladiators, 90s style), know the same obscure things things (Garth Brooks alter ego Chris Gaines...umm, don't ask), and have the same answers to questions (quintessential movie of the 90s? Dangerous Minds....thank you Coolio and Michelle Pfeiffer!). He laughs at my jokes, and that's always a plus. He thinks I'm cute, that's a double plus. He calls me a one-woman-show because I'm always talking, but its only because he listens so well. OH, and he apologizes! The last time I heard a man say sorry was months ago, from a cafeteria worker who put too much BBQ sauce on my chicken wings. I'm crushing hard, and I think I like it.

If you know me, you know I have a dating theory. I believe I get one great "like" a year. Last year, Rems, the asshole, lasted through to August before showing the true dickhead inside of him (but I'm not angry, I swear) and that was it for 2007. I had to wait until 2008 to meet a new guy, to get a new great like for the year. What I didn't expect was that it would come so early. This can only go two ways. Either Noel fucks up soon and forces me to spend the next 11 months alone, or he actually, unlike all the others, comes through and I get one hell of a good year. 2008....possibly redeeming itself right before my eyes. Let's all pray for the latter. And if you don't believe in God, just hope really, really, really hard in the direction of the sky....He'll get your point.

Jay just got back from a trip to Central America and came back with a catch phrase stolen from the local banditos of the Costa Rican coastline....Pura Vida. Pure Life. Apparently, so relaxed they are, that anything and everything gets the laid back, been-smokin'-some-herb response of Pura Vida. So, in the spirit of free trade, I too will adopt this saying....Pura Vida, Noel. Fuck shit up and I'm getting my newly adopted Costa Rican amigos to fuck your shit up! Hasta La Vista!