Joemygod wrote about FRAPPR recently, saying he was behind the curve in talking about it, but I’d never heard of it. Apparently, I’m at the end of the curve. For all you other slow ones, FRAPPR–along with other features–allows me to see where my visitors are coming from. Go do it real quick. It only takes a second; you don’t have to sign up for anything. Put up your pictures, I want to see your faces!

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I went on my first “first date” in a long time yesterday evening. It was amazing. Effortless. Natural. I don’t want to jinx it, but I have a really good feeling about this guy. We went up to Lincoln Square for the tree lighting/street festival, which ended up very disappointing. The tree was ugly and the “street festival” consisted of a handful of tents giving out little food samples from local restaurants, most charging a couple bucks for a sample. No thanks. Definitely not the famous tree lighting ceremony for a reason.

We ditched the scene and got some burritos. Actually, I had a chimichanga, those faux-Mexican deep-fried concoctions. I didn’t really know they were available outside of the freezer-variety. (By the way, it’s remarkable how many popular “ethnic” dishes are completely not related to their respective countries. Try going to Thailand and ordering pad thai; it was created in Brooklyn.)

After that, we walked down and got some Starbucks and went to Bed Bath & Beyond–I like to call this portion of the date “the yuppie interlude.” I found a $20 handheld milk steamer/frother that I really wanted, but there’s one on Amazon for $10, so I managed to hold off on the impulse buy. He unsuccessfully looked for a U-shaped curtain rod for his bathtub. Ah, well.

I promised myself I would enforce a chastity period with any potential relationship material. This was, unsurprisingly, an enforcement I could not follow through with. We went back to my apartment, watched numerous episodes of Strangers With Candy (”Who wants cake?) and South Park (”Whatever, whatever, I do what I want!”) Cuddling led to making out which led to lack of clothing. Man, I suck. And I don’t just mean literally. I have absolutely no self-control. My reasoning is, we had an amazing night, it was perfect; if this messes that up, it wasn’t as strong as I thought it was. Plus, if there is any sexual incompatibility, I might as well figure it out now.

And to answer those nagging suspicions: it didn’t mess it up, and there definitely wasn’t any incompatibility. We’ll see where this goes. Cross your fingers. (And add yourself to my FRAPPR!)