The Best Christmas Ever...

I like to avoid flowery posts where I talk about how great my life is, much like those obnoxious Christmas cards I bitched about a few posts back. However, this particular Christmas was so fucking incredible that I'm afraid you're just going to have to suffer or else stop reading now. This is also a post I'm very nervous about writing (kind of like THIS ONE). It will reveal some private shit about me that I've kept out of my blog thus far.

First, the benign stuff. As I mentioned briefly, I had been having communication problems with my brother. We hadn't spoken since August. Fortunately, these problems seem to have resolved themselves for the time being and we got along great. I truly hope that things between us will continue to improve. I also got to spend considerable time with my cutie-pie niece. She has a minimal recognition of me, which about makes me melt. It was nice to spend more time with my dad and his girlfriend as well. As usual, my mom - the emotional anchor of my family - created a pleasant atmosphere with plenty of laughs. I also got to spend the Friday before Christmas with some of my closest friends. So far, so good, right? It gets better.

From the day after Christmas until Saturday, I got to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman. I know. Shocking.

Here's the thing: I know I've spent a lot of blog space lamenting my ineffectiveness when it comes to attracting women. However, I've never really opened up about just how deep this ineffectiveness runs. You see - and this is a huge closet I'm exiting now - I have never in my 34 years had a proper girlfriend. You can't imagine how tough and embarassing this is for me to admit. I've gone on dates, had drunken make-out sessions, even had a brief courtship with a female member of one of my bike tours, but I've never been able to say "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend." I've had numerous unrequited crushes on women who I felt, at the time, may have been interested in me, but never were. It is something that has been a drag on my self-esteem ever since I was young and started noticing girls not noticing me. Let's face it, to be my age and in this situation is pretty weird. Trust me, no one knows this more than me. While I am shy, I'm not a complete social misfit. I can carry on coherent conversations with members of the opposite sex without sweating profusely or stammering. I'm not grossly disfigured, but I always assumed there was something physically unappealing about me, because I always felt confident that I was funny and intelligent and, most of all, a nice guy. After a while, I started losing interest in even trying to date, kind of like Andy in "The 40-Year-Old Virgin". Luckily for me, I have a great group of friends that never made me feel strange about any of this. They accepted me regardless. Even so, I've always felt abnormal as a result.

Anyway, the four days after Christmas were magical. Without going into a lot of detail, I got to do a lot of the things most of you would probably take for granted. Things like taking walks arm-in-arm or hand-in-hand. I got to be romantic for the first time - a side of me that has had to lie in wait, lo these many years. I got to eat in a cozy restaurant and gaze into my companion's eyes and just feel happy. I got to share a bottle of decent champagne and Godiva chocolates. I got to steal kisses in elevators until other people got on. Most of all, I got to spend time with someone I'm crazy about and someone that seems to like me as well, even knowing all the stuff about me I've just told you.

I hope this post didn't make you grab for your barf bag. For those of you reading that are still hoping to find someone special, don't give up hope. If I can find it, anyone can. I also hope I haven't ruined my rep as a foul-mouthed dork with liberal tendencies. I'm still the same guy you've come to know and like. I'm just a little (well, a lot) happier. I promise not to let it affect the high-quality snark I strive to provide here at Some Guy's Blog.