[Breakup Babe will be on vacation from February 5 to Febrary 19. Please try to contain your grief, and remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder!]



Well. You know how I said last time that if I ever got involved with The Captain, he would probably whisk me off to some other part of the world in a sailboat?



Yeah, well I was right about that, except I didn't think he'd ask me to run away with him on the THIRD DATE.



Ahem.



Between bites of bad sushi last last night (that sped by us on a conveyor belt, therefore making up in kitsch value what it lacked in flavor) I asked him, oh-so-casually, "So where's your next big trip?"



Subtext: How long are you really going to be around, mister?



His oh-so-casual response: "I don't know -- where to you want to go?"



"Oh, I don't know...Mexico? Africa? Norway?" A little thrill runs through me. So he does like me. But this is just a game, right? And I play it for a while, reeling off names of places that I'd like to travel to. Then we move on to other topics, then he brings it back.



"So, maybe we should just run away for six months." He's looking right at me with those blue eyes. I look down at my lukewarm tempura.



"I'm serious," he says. "Have you ever heard of the Intercoastal Waterway? We could buy a boat and sail it. Haven't you ever just wanted to take off somewhere, hang out, and finish your book."



Yeah, but I figured I'd do it...when? When I get an actual book contract? When I'm married? When...I don't know. I keep talking about how I want to go live somewhere else for a while, but when do I actually plan to do it?



"Umm," I say, unable to stop myself from smiling. How long have I looked for Mr. Super Adventure? But isn't he taking this a bit far? We haven't even kissed yet! I look up at him.



"What about my job?," I ask.



"You could quit your job. Just get another one when you get back." He's still looking straight at me, his gaze unwavering.



"Yeah..." My brain is reeling. I think of quitting my job. How can I quit my job? I've only had a steady job for a year and a half now and I I love the money and the fact that I can do all sorts of things with worrying about my finances, and that I can work my job around my writing schedule. I like my job. Is that boring? But I love adventure too.



"Anyway," I say, taking a sip of my Mojito, which I realize now is not nearly strong enough, "I can't run away with you, I just met you."



He just laughs at that and shrugs a little. "It'll work out somehow," he says, then goes back to his sushi.



Later, after we've actually kissed (mmmm), I say, "How do you know I would make a good travel partner anyway?"



"I knew it from the first time we met."



Is he insane? Just possibly?



Or maybe he just wants my money to help him buy a boat, and then he'll ditch me somewhere along the way?



Or maybe he's a crazy romantic who does really think he's found his match and maybe he has and maybe everything is going to change, and soon I'll be writing the blog from a sailboat on the Intercoastal Waterway.



Or maybe nothing will change and this will be just a bizarre blip in my dating history, a funny story for the blog. Or maybe we will fall in love and some kind of compromise will be reached.



First, however, I have to survive Survivor: Family Vacation in Honduras, which will require me to take no less than five different flights to reach my destination, and once there to battle malarial mosquitos and Dengue Fever and typhoid and bandits, and sharing a room with my mom, and learning to scuba dive, so it's unlikely I'll make it back alive anyway.



If I do, I'll be back on February 19, so if you don't hear from me before then, DON'T WORRY. If you don't hear from me after that, THEN you can worry.



xo,

BB