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Date number two was smashing. Since JSP took care of the first date I figure it was my turn to do the grudge work (including picking up the tab) fair is fair I'm liberated. I decided on Newts for dinner were we ordered the same burger (The juicy lucy) and same beer (Miller light). Conversation was absolutely excellent we had a long talk about of all things the Tyra Banks which spurred of topics of religion and gay marriage discrimination. I've really never met anyone so in sync with my political and social views. The almost 2hr dinner flew by and we rushed over the the comedy club for our after dinner activity. The comedians were funny and we laughed had a couple drinks and had an in general good time. After the comedy club we chatted some more and laughed we had that good thing where we would play off each other joking back and forth.

Everything was perfect until the walk to the door. Nerves horrible nerves. The kind that make you buddy-punch dates in the arm. I went for the hug then realized he was going for the kiss and went in too but it ended up being one of those 80yr old grandmother closed mouth kisses. Then I kinda patted/rubbed the top of his head for some odd reason. We are talking just a minor step away from a nookie. To JSP's credit he seemed to find my ridiculousness tolerable if not mildly endearing..so hopefully I can ride that wave into date three.

Jesus Ava...really? So what my deal? Am I just rusty? Am I scared? Is the doorstep end of date kiss simply too high pressure? I like inside first kisses maybe warming up with a bit of cuddling is it wrong to not be ready to kiss him until I've gotten comfortable with holding his hand?

I've somehow regressed into pre-teen sex progress. I've turned into a prude. This has never been a problem in the past. Perhaps my year of chastity has turned me into a born again virgin....don't expect an invitation to some cleansing ceremony as this spontaneous regeneration of my hymen was completely unintentional and unexpected.

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