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2002-11-29, 2:47 p.m.:
Thanksgiving with my Grandpa Joe was wonderful as usual. It was just the two of us and he made a small dinner for us and we watched The X-Files marathon on TV. Here's my Grandpa Joe story: my Grandpa Joe and Grandma Delores took care of me since I was 4, when my mom and dad were killed by a drunk driver. Then, when I was 8, Grandma Delores had a fatal heart attack so its been Grandpa and me ever since. His house is small and comfortable and smells like pipe tobacco. He's also very eccentric. He got me into old horror movies when he once brought home Night of the Living Dead when I was 10 and we stayed up together until midnight to watch it. He paints too. And can cook anything. He is my family, and I love him very much. I feel bad leaving him to live 80 miles away but he wouldn't let me stay knowing how bad I wanted to to go to the current school I'm at now. But enough about my Grandpa Joe because we have other business to discuss: THE PARTY.

Yes, Patrick came all the way out to my Grandpa Joe's to pick me up and take allll the way back to town where the party was. He acted like a gentleman in front of Grandpa Joe and then kissed my cheek when we got into the car. As we were driving, I told him about my parents and what my grandfather meant to me and he reached over and squeezed my hand. When we got to the party, old feelings of nervousness started coming back. All of Patrick's friends are popular people involved in all of those...clubs and teams and whatever. I was very nervous while he introduced me to every one, but then when I got into the kitchen there were some girls I knew from Physics who were taking rum shots.

"Hey Elaine! You want one of these?" So I lingered around and talked to them for awhile while Patrick mingled. I took about 3 or 4 more shots and felt confident enough(er...buzzed enough) to find Patrick. I found him in the living room arguing with a blonde-haired guy about sports. I tapped him on the shoulder and he said, "Hey cutie," real cheerfully and then we went outside on the bannister to talk. We ended up kissing a whole lot instead.

And then he wanted to find a room upstairs.

"Patrick," I said quietly, "I'm not really, um, comfortable with, you know. We just met." He kissed me all over (my face, my ears, my neck) and said that it would be fine. This is when the date turned sour. I told him that I would like to hang out with him for longer than 24 hours before we slept together. He said that sex wasn't what he was referring to and that he honestly wanted go up and lie down together and kiss some more. I laughed in his face and said sarcastically that he was "so smooth." Then I used some random boy's cell phone and called a cab.

I then left the banister to wait out front for my ride, but he followed me.

"Elaine, relax. I wasn't going to rape you or anything. I just thought it'd be nice if we had some time alone. Honestly." I crossed my arms and frowned at him. "I know I'm being defensive and I'm sorry, but, um...I've just heard that you were, you know, like that. I don't want to be...um...not special or something." (Wonderful way with words I've got, right?)

So he got mad that I would listen to dumb rumors and blah blah blah, you've all seen the after-school specials, you know what happens. After talking we ended on a friendly note but I think I've ruined anything further with him. Someone tell me, was I being a little too paranoid? Do you think once I went "upstairs" he would've tried something? Jen says I should have gone, Warren's relieved that I didn't. I think I've screwed things up once again. *elaine*

p.s. Hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving. It was a cold one up here!

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