Phooey

Ok, so I finally learned the Hawkeye's name. And therefore I google-stalked him. And, I made a startling discovery. He was born in 1985. I've already had to deal with someone born in that year. Remember the young'n? Oh crap. Maybe I'm no longer that into him. I don't think I can deal with fighting his sexual impulses. Which may be just as well, because there may be an unconfirmed girlfriend. Why couldn't he be a nice 27-29 year old man?

I did enjoy talking to him for an extended period of time today. He seems to be able to handle my smart-arsed mouth. Although, he may be a little bit of a whiner in terms of giving him a hard time. And we have an appointment to chat on Tuesday; as we have a bet going about who's going to win the Packers/Bears game (duh). He took the losing side, so I need suggestions for bet terms. And before you suggest it, it can't be dinner or drinks or any such thing; because the terms he picked involved lunges and squats. (sad. He definitely passed on the opportunity to ask me out).

Speaking of the young'n, he called me this week. He's moving to California. I think I may miss his empty threats of proposing marriage.