Lovely Evening
English Lit Academic made a nice risotto which was (I admit - surprisingly) tasty. He liked the Riesling (?) that I bought from the Wine Merchant, which was selected by this guy whom he's encountered before who's rude and unfriendly. I found him unfriendly too, so we must've been talking about the same guy.
We talked. He put some French music on. His collection of books is fascinating. I recognised a lot of names, of course, and also noted the absence of some - Rawls, Dworkin, Sandel, but who would read them unless doing some kind of law/politics/political theory and philosophy academic work? I was surprised that he liked Wittgenstein Jr by Lars Iyer. Dominic gave me this book on Valentine's last year (I don't know where it is though; I think it's with him) and I just didn't get it, really. He was surprised that I didn't like Elizabeth Bowen's The Heat of the Day; he recommended that I read her short stories. He has Wittgenstein's Tractatus; asked if I've read it. Well, I attended lectures on it in my first year at Cambridge, but that was as far as I got in my exploration of Wittgenstein. 'It's very difficult,' I said. What an understatement.
He kissed me towards the end of the night. This was preceded by some other physical contact: he took my hand, he touched my hair, and I sat closer to him on his couch and he put his arm around me, and I snuggled up to him. It was very comfortable, and so was kissing him.
I like that he asked me when I'm next free just before I left.
He also commented on my legs. 'You have nice legs,' he said. 'You're really sexy.'
My choice of skinny jeans tonight was partly strategic. I'd won skirts the two times we met, so I thought I would switch it up. I'm glad it worked.
*
I quite like him. I like his bookish nature, his wry sense of humour, his being quite open about how he's boring (his word, not mine; I don't think he's boring anyway). It is unavoidable at this stage that I like the idea of him more than I like him, but I like him enough to want to see him again soon. I just need to figure out how I'm gonna juggle this and work, given that I'm either really focused or I'm not, and if I'm really focused, then I have little time for anything else (except tennis, apparently).
I walked home with a slight private smile and feeling somewhat light, a warmish glow in my heart. That is a good sign, is it not?
*
On a slightly different note, I don't know why it is that when I'm with a man and we are kissing, and his hand naturally starts exploring my body, there is a voice in my head that's saying, What are you doing? This voice forces its way to the fore of my consciousness in situations like tonight, when I'm with someone that I was meeting for the third time, someone that I didn't know that well.
What does it mean, what am I doing? It implies some impropriety in my action, but what is it exactly? Is it my insecurity, my fear that he'd (generic 'he') lose interest once he gets what he wants - and embedded in this fear is that his liking me is primarily physical? Why can't I seem to let go and enjoy it for what it is?
But what is it? At its most base, it's a man and a woman with mutual attraction between them; it's a man making his move on a woman whom he likes. I can't quite figure out why this doesn't seem to be enough to silence the nagging voice in my head that asks, with some degree of negative moral judgement, What are you doing? when I'm doing something enjoyable which feels good. Why is it that a part of me feels as if I shouldn't, that I should draw my boundaries more clearly? It wasn't like we were anywhere close to having sex, so why the sense of impropriety, however slight?
I wonder if I am becoming a prude. I have accepted that I am sexually conservative when it comes to my private life, but I am not yet cognisant of how far this goes. It appears to go pretty far when that nagging voice in my head surfaced tonight, even when nothing really happened. I suppose two years of no casual sex does something funny to a person.
*
I need to sleep. My sore throat has gone away; perhaps he was right when he said, in a cavalier manner, that wine is a cure for sore throat. But this dry cough, triggered at night, is really annoying.
*
Edit: we also talked about music. He is a huge fan of metal, which I can't stand, but he listens to a lot of different things. His iTunes collection is impressive for its breadth. He doesn't like The Strokes though, but he thinks Fiona Apple is talented. (I am so in love with the second half of When The Pawn Hits blah. SO IN LOVE.)
Edit no. 2: Funny slip of the tongue on his part - he was showing me a video of his lectures on Virginia Woolf to show me this funny gift that his student got him, and after stopped the video, he said, 'Well, you can watch it at home and pleasure yourself.'
I nearly died laughing. It was an unintended slip of the tongue, but still - really hilarious.
We talked. He put some French music on. His collection of books is fascinating. I recognised a lot of names, of course, and also noted the absence of some - Rawls, Dworkin, Sandel, but who would read them unless doing some kind of law/politics/political theory and philosophy academic work? I was surprised that he liked Wittgenstein Jr by Lars Iyer. Dominic gave me this book on Valentine's last year (I don't know where it is though; I think it's with him) and I just didn't get it, really. He was surprised that I didn't like Elizabeth Bowen's The Heat of the Day; he recommended that I read her short stories. He has Wittgenstein's Tractatus; asked if I've read it. Well, I attended lectures on it in my first year at Cambridge, but that was as far as I got in my exploration of Wittgenstein. 'It's very difficult,' I said. What an understatement.
He kissed me towards the end of the night. This was preceded by some other physical contact: he took my hand, he touched my hair, and I sat closer to him on his couch and he put his arm around me, and I snuggled up to him. It was very comfortable, and so was kissing him.
I like that he asked me when I'm next free just before I left.
He also commented on my legs. 'You have nice legs,' he said. 'You're really sexy.'
My choice of skinny jeans tonight was partly strategic. I'd won skirts the two times we met, so I thought I would switch it up. I'm glad it worked.
*
I quite like him. I like his bookish nature, his wry sense of humour, his being quite open about how he's boring (his word, not mine; I don't think he's boring anyway). It is unavoidable at this stage that I like the idea of him more than I like him, but I like him enough to want to see him again soon. I just need to figure out how I'm gonna juggle this and work, given that I'm either really focused or I'm not, and if I'm really focused, then I have little time for anything else (except tennis, apparently).
I walked home with a slight private smile and feeling somewhat light, a warmish glow in my heart. That is a good sign, is it not?
*
On a slightly different note, I don't know why it is that when I'm with a man and we are kissing, and his hand naturally starts exploring my body, there is a voice in my head that's saying, What are you doing? This voice forces its way to the fore of my consciousness in situations like tonight, when I'm with someone that I was meeting for the third time, someone that I didn't know that well.
What does it mean, what am I doing? It implies some impropriety in my action, but what is it exactly? Is it my insecurity, my fear that he'd (generic 'he') lose interest once he gets what he wants - and embedded in this fear is that his liking me is primarily physical? Why can't I seem to let go and enjoy it for what it is?
But what is it? At its most base, it's a man and a woman with mutual attraction between them; it's a man making his move on a woman whom he likes. I can't quite figure out why this doesn't seem to be enough to silence the nagging voice in my head that asks, with some degree of negative moral judgement, What are you doing? when I'm doing something enjoyable which feels good. Why is it that a part of me feels as if I shouldn't, that I should draw my boundaries more clearly? It wasn't like we were anywhere close to having sex, so why the sense of impropriety, however slight?
I wonder if I am becoming a prude. I have accepted that I am sexually conservative when it comes to my private life, but I am not yet cognisant of how far this goes. It appears to go pretty far when that nagging voice in my head surfaced tonight, even when nothing really happened. I suppose two years of no casual sex does something funny to a person.
*
I need to sleep. My sore throat has gone away; perhaps he was right when he said, in a cavalier manner, that wine is a cure for sore throat. But this dry cough, triggered at night, is really annoying.
*
Edit: we also talked about music. He is a huge fan of metal, which I can't stand, but he listens to a lot of different things. His iTunes collection is impressive for its breadth. He doesn't like The Strokes though, but he thinks Fiona Apple is talented. (I am so in love with the second half of When The Pawn Hits blah. SO IN LOVE.)
Edit no. 2: Funny slip of the tongue on his part - he was showing me a video of his lectures on Virginia Woolf to show me this funny gift that his student got him, and after stopped the video, he said, 'Well, you can watch it at home and pleasure yourself.'
I nearly died laughing. It was an unintended slip of the tongue, but still - really hilarious.