My Love Nest

Sometimes, it's nice when married people are concerned about my love... my lack of a... love life. I mean, it can be overbearing, and you definitely get people that harp on you about things that are beyond your control. But when someone shows a general desire to see you getting some action, it's just thoughtful. I guess.

It's flattering when those people, who want to see you out having an enjoyable time, imagine that you are doing just that. They pretend not to know that you were up at 3 a.m. reading -- not bump and grinding with twelve different guys. In their mind, your social life is a lot more active than what it really is, because they can't imagine that you stay up that late doing anything but partying.

So Kevin comes in at the beginning of the week, wondering how the concert was that I attended on Friday. I had been working on a proposal, but the concert started at 8 p.m., so I decided to take off. He asked, "Did you meet any guys, take them home and rip their clothes off?" I laughed. "'Cause that's what women do at concerts."

I neglected to tell him that it was a Beatles' cover night. There was no molestation of any kind. Although, I did bump into an old friend, who is looking very fine indeed. I'm not saying that I want to "rip his clothes off" or anything, but....

And then Kevin comes in from lunch today and is like, "Why do you have a blanket in the back seat of your car? I remember why I used to keep blankets in the back seat of my car."

"You never know when they come in handy," I reply.

Of course, they come in handy when I decide to take my book and go to a park, roll up my pants and sit in the sun to read and eat my lunch. They also come in handy if your car breaks down in the middle of the winter and you have to wait for hours for someone to come rescue you. (That has never happened to me. Yet.) It's always good to be prepared.

And then as I'm standing at the top of the stairs, talking to Wes and Rob, I hear, "Shelli!" And it kind of startled me, and reminded me of what my dad sounds like when he's yelling at me. (He doesn't really ever yell at me. Especially now that I'm so mature.) "Your windows are down and it's starting to sprinkle. Your love nest is going to get all wet."

I went down immediately to roll up my windows. If anybody wants to join me in my love nest (after the thunderstorms are finished rolling through) let me know. I've kept it safe from the rain.