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The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker, and The Boy Who Has Yet To Be Named finally gets a name.

In the last six months I have gone on approximately umpteen thousand dates.  Okay, that is a bit of an exaggeration, but prior to The Boy Who I Promise Will Be Named Later In This Post, I was a bit crazy.  After breaking off an 18-month relationship I went on kind of a dating rampage, which will not be discussed in much detail here.  Notable mentions are The Butcher, who has the notorious distinction of being the only boy who has ever broken up with me; The Baker, whose cookies and pastries were distracting from the unnerving, contentious and (eventually) yelling-and-crying-in-a-restaurant type of relationship; and The Candlestick Maker, who was so tall that even in my tallest heels (which put me at six feet) I hardly grazed his shoulder.  These “relationships” ranged from a few dates, to a few weeks, to a few months.  I also feel that it should be noted that The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker, and The Boy not only all know each other, but are routinely invited to the same parties, functions and events.  Yeah, being in the same (suddenly much too small) room with all four of them was perhaps one of the more awkward moments of the last month.

Which brings me to The Boy Who Is About To Get A Name.  While we met in October and started dating soon after that, I have been hesitant to properly introduce him on ye olde blog.  Inexplicably, I’m all nervous about it, which is bizarre because I have sent novel-length emails to a half-dozen friends around the world about The Boy and how amazing he is and how fantastic everything is going, ad nauseum.  But I’m still nervous, however, nerves aside, here it goes.

The Boy is kind of a Jack Bauer type, the SuperHero guy who can save the world at a moment’s notice.  (Unlike Jack Bauer he does not routinely break dozens of federal laws or have the President’s cell phone number. And unlike Kiefer Sutherland he does not have a television series or criminal rap sheet.)  If they were in a fight, I think The Boy would totally beat Jack Bauer.  He runs a business where he actually trains other people to be Jack Bauer types.  And by “people” I mean SWAT teams and military teams are previous clients; seriously, he’s hardcore.  If something bad is happening, The Boy is the type you want to have around. I was surprised (and relieved) to discover a balance to all that testosterone, The Boy writes his own music, plays the guitar and sings.  And I know of no easier way to get me into full swoon mode than to have a big, strong, handsome man hang out in my living room playing his guitar and crooning.  Seriously swoony.

You want some more examples, don’t you.  Oh good, I thought you’d never ask.  (If you are the type to get squeamish or annoyed when hearing about someone gush over a new relationship, I advise you to skip to the end.  Seriously, gushing is about to happen, don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

“For Cute” Number A: The Boy and I had only gone on two dates before I went to Phoenix for Thanksgiving.  When I asked him if he’d mind picking me up at the airport and then maybe go out to lunch he agreed (squee!).  I was fully prepared to be blasted with Utah Winter Coldness as I waited at the pick-up point outside the airport, typical for arrivees at Salt Lake International.  You can imagine my shock when I saw him waiting there by the baggage claim.  Shock.  I don’t think I’ve had anyone meet me inside the airport since…um….the beginning of time.  Seriously, he parked, came in and waited.  I am still swooning over this.  (Also–this began what may go down in history as the best date ever.)

“For Cute” Number B: After a particularly long (90-hours plus) and exhausting week of work, The Boy sneakily made plans for a little surprise.  He arranged for a friend of his, a massage therapist, to come over to my apartment and give me an hour-long full-body massage while he did the dishes and cleaned up my kitchen.  For. Reals.  Who does that?!  Swoon!

“For Cute” Number C: While I was working during the Christmas holiday (and was pouting that so many of you had weeks of time off) he came to visit and brought a giant bouquet of red and yellow Gerbera daisies.  Daisies are my favorite flower and these were absolutely gorgeous.  Swoon!

“For Cute” Number D: On Christmas morning he arranged for Santa to visit and I opened my first Christmas-morning-present in a decade.  I laughed, I may have actually cried a bit, and I have loved seeing the way a pair of sparkly green sapphires look in my ears (not pictured below, heidikins fail.) Swoon!

“For Cute” Number E: Last week while I was in Disneyland “for work” he drove down to meet Vladd & I for a couple of days in The Happiest Place on Earth.  Turns out, Disneyland is a really great place to go on a date.  Noted.  And Swoon!

The Boy clearly needs an Internet name.  Potential options include the following:

• Mr. Scrufftastic
• Lover Boy
• The Bulldog
• Gunsmoke

This list has been seriously edited, my initial list was something like 13 nick-names long.  I like Scrufftastic and Lover Boy, but somehow they seem a bit derogatory in connotation–is that just me?  Yes, The Boy is scruffy, but it’s not his defining characteristic.  Yes, he’s swoony, but I can hardly think about calling him Lover Boy without conjuring up images from Dirty Dancing, and as much as I love Patrick Swayze–may he rest in peace–I don’t want him haunting my relationship.  That leaves Bulldog and Gunsmoke.  Wait…I can just call him Bulldog McGunsmoke and leave it at that, right?

Ladies and Gentlemen (the 2 who still read this blog with any regularity), The Boy Who Has Been Nameless for Months has finally been given a moniker: Bulldog A. McGunsmoke*.  BAM!

*Just to be clear, “A” is for AwesomeSauce.  Also, BAM! makes a much nicer acronym than BMG, which sounds like a sketchy multi-level-marketing company.

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