legionnaire

NEGATIVE!!! These days, is there any better word in the English language?

Yesterday I got woke at about 6AM with a bit knot in my stomach, worried about the results from my blood test. I came in the lab, worked half-heartedly for a while, and then finally just went to student health, 3 hours before my appointment.

I got there, all nervous, and as I sat down in the waiting room, the doctor saw me and gave me a little wink. What did it mean? Is she telling me everything's fine? Is she trying to reassure me before giving me bad news? Is she hitting on me (probably not this one)?

So I finally get called into her office, and sit down. She very briskly tells me that all of my numbers now look fine, and I tested negative for HIV. Instantly a feeling that is closest to maybe getting a morphine shot (had one in the hospital once) comes over me, this warm, calming, buzzing feeling, starting at my shoulders and creeping up my neck until it's filled my head, then shot down my body to give me pleasant, warm goosebumps, has enveloped mew. I barely hear anything else she says, walk out the door, and smoke an extremely satisfying cigarette (celebrating my good health in the appropriate style.)

This scene from The Family Guy pops into my head:

Lois: Peter, you've just received the most important bill of all; a clean bill of health.
Peter: Geez Lois, how long have you been waiting to bring out that gem?

The rest of the day was pleasant. Even though I was more in less running my ass off the whole day trying to coordinate 50 different things at once so that my grant would go out on time, it didn't bother me at all.

Unfortunately, the grant did not go out on time. I'm working on it as we speak (clearly working hard too, since I'm writing this.) But I got permission from the NIH to send it out late.

I got home just in time to get cleaned up and go out on my first date with V. (I'll try to preserve her anonymity.) We met up at Madame X, a nice lounge near my place, for a drink. Hung out there for maybe 45 minutes, chatting and talking. She gave me the "you're cuter than I remember" line. That's always nice. And told me that she thought my haircut is sexy, which it clearly isn't. Things were looking up.

We left there and went up to Botanica, a favorite dive bar of mine, and drank and talked more. Found some common interests, which is always nice.

Left there and went to Mars Bar for another drink. The damned jukebox never played the songs that I picked, so no Jawbox or The Clash. Bummer. We hit one of those lulls in the conversation, and she was looking at me in kind of an odd way. I asked "what are you thinking?" She says "well, I'm just wondering what kind of a kisser you are." I'm a little surprised since she hadn't seemed that forward before. I was clearly wrong. I said "well, you can find out." She leans over and we make out for a while, at the bar.

We leave there and at my suggestion, head over to my place. On the way to the subway, we alternately hold hands, and randomly slamm into walls and kissing. I can get with this.

She tells me up front "I'm not into drunk sex. So don't think you're getting too far tonight." I tell her that's fine, I'm not into sex on the first date anyway.

After making out on the subway platform, the subway, and the street on the way back to my place, we finally get to my place. And of course, my roommate is sitting on the damned couch, watching TV, which sort of spoils the mood. But whatever. We go down to my room and make out a little heavier for a while, until she says she has to get home. I walk her out to the subway.

So the summary for the day: blood test - good. Grant - bad. Date - good. Two out of three ain't bad.