oh the horror

I have discovered that Precious Pete is the world's worst, and I mean worst, kisser. This is not a joke. Go back a few blogs and you'll remember my flawed rationale - I was pretty much blacked out by the time we got home from our date and although I know we had sex and I do have this faint memory of him inside me, I couldn't remember if he was good or bad in bed. For whatever reason, I thought that I'd have remembered if he was just so bad, so in fact, he must have been good! Oh great.

Oh no. Saturday night, and Sunday morning informed me that he is in fact, legitimately, really, actually the world's WORST KISSER! Oh, the horror, the disappointment. Precious Pete has everything going for him. He's attractive and adorable, intelligent (in LAW SCHOOL!!), funny, talkative, social, sweet, just eveeeeeerything I could ask for. He has even stated multiple times how much he adores me. I loove being smothered with with these coments! (Or at least in the intial stages of courting it's nice).

He can't kiss to save his life. And what is so strage is that he's like 25 or 26 and been in really long serious relationships so I'm just absolutely dumbfounded. My sister suggested that perhaps his poor ex was just an equally horrific kisser, or she just didn't care.

Nuh uh... you can't just not care. Kissing is everything! I mean, obviously it is not but it leads to everything else and yes... I take that back, it is everything. Kissing is all day, every day, in a million different ways at different times to tell someone different things and feel different things and aaaaaaaaah!

I don't even think I can train this poor man.

And the worst part is that even though I had all day, while laying on the couch, watching football, snoozing left and right, to think this over - I have no idea what I'm going to do... I mean, can I really stop seeing this guy because he's a bad kisser? OF COURSE! is my first reaction, but then I remember his long list of fabulous attributes and I just feel uugh the worst surge through my body of utter disappointment.

He's fabulous. How do I fix this?

Of course the other piece to the puzzle to remember is that German Lover Boy is coming home now in 6 days, and we've made even more plans to hang out. My dear guy friend Brett who I tell literally everything [I think before this blog, in my selective-honesty phase of life, I really did tell him everrrrything] anywaysssss, so Brett thinks I'm going to go with Pete #1 - German Lover Boy - because due to his collegiate sport past, we're thinking he's going to turn out to be a "dick head meat head." Whereas one would think that would turn me off, Brett and I both know that I tend to fall hard for those kind of guys.

Sue me, I'm yet another stupid stereotype - I always fall for the bad guys. Not necessarily the badass guys, but the ones who will inevitably break my heart.

Remember how I called Nick and Kenny before my date with Pete # 2 - Precious Pete? THe one thing they both said was that he was such an awesome guy and he would, I quote, never break my heart. Brett heard this and wasted no time chirping in with his opinion (which is unfortunately pretty accurate). He said if Pete is the kind of guy who would never break my heart than I'm sure to "split his in two." Oh Brett, how well you know me. See nice guys, and me... don't mix. Sure I love how sweet he is now, and ooooh it just melts my heart to hear him actually use the word "adore" when he talks about how much he is enjoying his time with me... I'm doomed. I'm going to pick Pete #1, and in a months time I'll be back here crying, telling you how he's a douche and he broke my heart and I'm devasted and should have stuck with Precious Pete... even though he's a terrible kisser.