Hi Internet. It's me.

So, it's been some time since I posted last. I think part of the reason is that I've had someone to tell many of my thoughts to, which is no longer the case, and that I spend most of my time working on my computer, which is still the case.

I recently went through another year of High Holidays, but I had quite the predicament this time around. For the uninitiated, the High Holidays are Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year) and Yom Kippur. Of course, Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement, but it is really just to atone for your sins against G-d. There are ten days between the two holidays that are really meant to atone for your sins against other people, but apologizing for having wronged them.

One of my favorite stories (which I remember vaguely from when I heard it) about Yom Kippur is about a two men who go to visit their rabbi in preparation for Yom Kippur. The first one says to the rabbi, "Rabbi, I have done an absolutely awful sin this year. I have done something absolutely terrible and I need to know how I can ever get the Almighty's forgiveness."

The rabbi responded by telling the man, "Go out into the courtyard and find the largest stone you can find. Then carry it back here."

Confused, the man did as the rabbi asked and found an enormous stone that he brought to the rabbi. Upon his return, the rabbi told the exhausted man, "Now, place the stone back where you found it, exactly as you found it."

Again confused, the man did exactly as the rabbi asked. He carried the stone to the place that he remembered it being and placed it in the position that he thought it was in when he took it.

After doing so, the man returned to the rabbi and the rabbi told him, "Deeply, sincerely ask the Almighty for his forgiveness for your terrible sin and I'm sure He will forgive you."

Soon thereafter, another man came to visit the rabbi and said, "Rabbi, I really don't think I've done much wrong this year and I don't really know what to ask G-d to forgive me for this year. So I'm not quite sure what I should do on Yom Kippur."

The rabbi tells the man, "Go into the courtyard and find as many small stones as you can carry. Collect them and bring them back here."

Confused, the man does as the rabbi asked. After a while, the man returns to the rabbi, barely able to keep all of the stones that he collected in his hands. The rabbi then tells him, "Put all those stones back where you found them, exactly as you found them."

The man, shocked, replies, "Rabbi, there's no way I can do that! There are so many that were all over the courtyard! I have no idea where I found them and where I need to put them back!"

The rabbi replied, "This is what you need to learn about Yom Kippur. You have collected small sins all year and this is the day that you fix them and put things back as they should be with G-d. If you cannot remember your sins, then you have all the more reason to ask for forgiveness for engaging in them because they are so numerous that you cannot even be honest with G-d about what they are."

I've always loved that story because it reminded me that Yom Kippur is really a time to ask for forgiveness for things you know you've done wrong and for things that you can't even remember.

However, the story doesn't answer one important question that I've had this year. What happens if you have a rock that is incredibly big to you and you know where to put it, but you just can't carry it back to where it belongs? What if you think struggling to put the rock back will be more painful than moving it in the first place?

I guess I'll have to look for another story to answer those questions...

Cross One (or More) Off The List...

I received a thank you email from Neil this week, thanking me for his birthday gift. Yeah, Neil's good like that. (Although he still hasn't made me his blog crush of the day yet. Don't make me pull out the Jewish guilt Neil...)

But what stood out to me was this line: "You haven't posted much this month. I hope it is for good reasons and not bad..."

He's right. While I've been a relatively common commenter, I really haven't written here in quite a while.

And it's time I told you why.

Really, there are two reasons.

The first is I finally got a long-awaited transfer at work. In light of the first rule of blogging (and you have no idea how hard it has been not to break that rule), to paraphrase Forrest Gump, that's all I'm going to say about that.

But it's the other reason that I'm going to tell you about. And I have to admit, this is the reason I've kept hidden from you for a little while.

About a month and a half ago, I--with some trepidation--went on a blind date. I had been on a series of bad dates over the past few months, so I really wasn't expecting anything.

I could never have been more wrong.

My friend, S___, called me and told me that I needed to call this girl that she knew. After some minor arm twisting, I called her and left a message.

It was your standard first call message. Nothing too involved. Just a little joke about her outgoing message followed by "S___ suggested I give you a call. Call me back when you get a chance."

The next day she did. And the conversation flowed like a river.

After an hour, I finally said, "So, would you like to get drinks on Friday?" She accepted and we made plans. Nothing involved. Nothing committing. Nothing intimidating. Just a meet and greet. An opportunity to see if we found one another attractive and could keep the flow at the next level.

And did we ever.

When she walked in that Friday, I was amazed. Gorgeous blond locks. Skin beautiful as porcelain. A smile that lit up the entire place.

And those eyes. Those amazing blue eyes. She looked at me and those pools of clear blue water were simply mesmerizing.

The time flew.

My friends and I scheduled dinner later that night for the post-date wrap-up, but pulling myself away from her was clearly going to be a challenge. Our face-to-face conversation was just as amazing as our pre-date conversation. I really didn't want to leave.

And there was the fact that she nursed the same beer for two hours.

But alas, I had plans. And I learned that the first date really shouldn't be more than two hours. The hard way. A few weeks prior. Like I said, a series of bad dates...

So, I left, drunk on this woman of such amazing potential.

When I met my friends for dinner that night, I immediately got the question: "So, how was it?" The only words I could muster in response were, "She's incredible." And then my cautious nature stepped in and I added, "But let's see what happens on the second date."

***

I strategically called her the next Monday. Valentine's Day was Wednesday and I didn't want to get too close to that with someone I had just met, I was leaving town at the end of the next week, and I didn't want her to think I didn't have anything to do on the weekend. Just enough time to create anticipation, but not enough to forget about me.

Yeah. I'm a planner. Unfortunately, there were a series of events that put a wrinkle into the plans, but hey...I'm an adapter too.

This time I caught her at home. We had the obligatory small chat and then I broke out with it: "Listen, I had a really good time with you on Friday, but here's the deal. I'm getting sick [I was...it was awful], my car's in the shop [it was...it was expensive], and I'm leaving town in the middle of this week for the entire weekend [I did...it was unbreakable]. But I really would like to get together again. Is it okay if we do something next week?"

"Sure," she said, "that sounds great."

"Fantastic," I reply, "I'll give you a call next week."

And then, even though this conversation could have ended there, it didn't. Once again we talked for another hour and a half.

Like I said. Flowed like a river.

On Valentine's Day, despite my friends protestations to send flowers (friends, mind you, who don't have normal relationships...so not exactly people I look too for dating advice), I sent her a text. Something small to let her know I was thinking about her on Valentine's Day, but something that minimized the day. And, as you know, I'm not a fan of Hallmark-dictated romance anyway.

She responded in kind. It expressed interest, but wasn't overbearing, sweet, but not desperate, funny, but didn't look like she was trying. Yep. It was the perfect email.

That next Sunday, I was on my drive back from my trip and I called her up.

"Hey there!"

"Hi!," she exclaimed, clearly happy to hear from me.

Once again we started with the obligatory small talk, but then I moved in.

"Look, I know we talked about getting together this week. Are you busy Wednesday?"

"No, I think Wednesday will work for me."

"Great," I said. "You may remember I mentioned I have tickets to that traveling Vegas show. Well, that's on Wednesday. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather take than you."

She accepted. To tell you something about this lady, when I mentioned I was a little tired as I was driving, she stayed on the phone with me, keeping me talking for two hours, so that I would be awake. She told me later that she enjoyed the conversation, but that's the kind of thoughtfulness that's just her.

To make an already long story shorter, it was an enchanting second date. There was flowers (note that they were at an appropriate time), hand holding, laughing, and a little polite kiss goodnight. All in all, it was storybook.

And since that night, things have developed fabulously.

***

I've always wondered if something was wrong with me. My female friends (of which there are many) often say, "Guys are like parking spaces. All the good ones are taken or handicapped." And having been terminally single, I just figured I was a "special" space. As in, permit special.

Over the past month and a half, I realized how wrong I was. I discovered I have things to offer, that someone can think of me with the same admiration, amazement, longing and sweetness with which I think of them. I've discovered I can have that romantic connection I see between so many of my friends. The comfort. The thinking in unison. The desire to spend every moment of every day with that person. The sense that, even when you've only been apart for hours, you feel as though you're reunited when you see that person again.

I've discovered that I too am entitled to a good-night kiss.

And I've learned all of this because of the most beautiful, sweet, angelic, amazing woman I've ever met.

I've gotten to enjoy so many things about her. How she's both an amazing woman and a little girl at the same time. How she thinks of me with small things, just to let me know she cares. How she and I both reach for one another's hand whenever we're within five feet of one another. How when I wink at her, she tries to wink back and even though she can't wink, the result is both hilarious and sexy at the same time. How she laughs with her whole body. How she gazes at me when I look at her. How she enjoys spending time, just on a swing. How we just "fit."

So, yeah. I haven't been writing for a good reason indeed.

It's because that list I posted yesterday has changed.

Item 48.

I've had a second. And I've had a first that's loved me back.