The Red Flags.

we've been dating for about two months now. it's high time some red flags were thrown in this cyncial girl's face.

he called me tiger the other night. not tiger as in "you sexy siren," but tiger as in, "way to go on that home run, tiger!" my friend phil thought it was "cute...but he clearly doesn't want to have sex with you."

last night, he left me a voicemail. and called me "cracker jack." just when i thought it couldn't get any worse than "tiger."* friend josh said, "that is a weird one, actually. but, again, if a guy called me that i'd think it was really fucking cute. but you're a girl, and girls don't like to be called weird things."

i'm nitpicking. i know. he's got a lot of wonderful qualities to him, but the bigredflag is that he's so very inexperienced, which results in waning chemistry for me. (which is ironic, considering he's a chemist...)

don't get me wrong, i'm not letting him go just yet. and i wouldn't consider letting him go for just a couple of dorky little terms of endearment. these are just precursors to slightly bigger issues of inexperience... which i'll plead the fifth on, thank you very much.

*i called him back and was maybe just a little short with him. (a combination, of tiredness and the cracker jack factor.) five minutes after we hung up, his facebook status read that he is "showing his soon to be married good buddy the pearls of happiness that reside with bachelorhood, not the wife's chains, in SIN CITY where the fun, sun, drinks and ladies never end." a dig at me, perhaps? hmph. have fun in vegas, my friend.