This weekend has been full of happy and good things.

I found out yesterday that I got the apartment.  So I’ll be signing the lease this week.  I don’t know how I feel about committing to staying in this city for another year, but I don’t have any other options right now, and I really need to move, so…  And I really am excited, except for the fact that it’s still change (and remember, change = bad), and I’m dying from a summer cold, so it’s hard to feel excited about anything as trivial as a new apartment.


But the really good thing from this weekend is that yesterday I went on the best first date I have ever been on in my entire life.  It is only one date (although I am as certain as I can be that there will be a second–as certain as anyone can be until it actually happens), but I have wanted to tell everyone how amazing it was.  I’m hesitating to proclaim anything from the roof tops for a variety of reasons.  I mean, it is just one date, so who knows what will happen or not happen.

But it was everything a date should be.  We had drinks and dinner.  There was conversation and banter.  She is witty, intelligent, sarcastic, beautiful.  She has these great eyes–I’d like to spend more time looking at her eyes.  We talked about everything.  Our date lasted almost 5 hours, and the time just flew.  She walked me to the bus and gave me her number before we parted ways–we’ve texted a bit today.

And not only that, but it was a date I actually wanted to go on, with a person I’m actually, genuinely interested in.  I wasn’t dreading it or counting minutes until I could leave.

I’m trying to not think about what this means for me, conservative Christian family and friends-wise.  I don’t want to mar such a beautiful date with ugly thoughts.  I know that will come, but for now, I’m thinking only of the delight.  The fact that a date finally felt good and right.  That I haven’t stopped smiling since last night.