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"  As expected, Brad hit the roof when he found out that Mikhaila had lifted his cell phone. I mean, who wouldn&amp;#039;t? He walked in, I told him what happened, he stormed back out, and then stormed back in an hour later with the phone in his hand.  &amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; I asked.  &amp;quot;I told her I never want to see her face, hear her voice, or deal with her in any way for the rest of my life.&amp;quot;  Ouch. I sorta thought those two were going to work it out. I hoped they would, but that might just be my own guilt over my contribution to their breakup.  I spent the next couple of nights hanging out at home, chilling with Brad. We discussed him finding his own place -- he asked if he could stay through the holidays and I told him that was fine. I think he&amp;#039;d go crazy right now if he were living by himself.  Then last night, I decided to leave the house and let Chef Marc wine me and dine me. We ate at a high-end Italian joint run by one of his friends, who I&amp;#039;m pretty sure is connected, if you know what I mean. Lots of middle-aged guys in suits looking vaguely menacing at the bar all night. Chef Marc thought everything we ate was only mediocre, while I thought it was the best Italian food I&amp;#039;d ever eaten. On the plus side, he was a little more restrained in his criticism than he was on our first date. A little. After dinner, he took me to one of those karaoke places where you rent a room by the hour to sing. I was a little hesitant at first -- I like karaoke and all, when it&amp;#039;s a group of my friends. But just me and a guy I&amp;#039;m dating? Kind of weird. I mean, are we going to hang out and sing duets all night?  Only we didn&amp;#039;t sing. Well, he put on Marvin Gaye&amp;#039;s &amp;quot;Sexual Healing,&amp;quot; and tried to sing deeply and dance all sexy-like, and it was sort of cute and funny but mostly embarrassing and I really wanted him to stop. So I pushed him down on the bench, grabbed the mic and (in my best smoky voice) announced into it that the singing portion of the night was over, and now we&amp;#039;d be moving into the &amp;quot;grope and fondle&amp;quot; part. Oddly enough, he didn&amp;#039;t argue. ;)  He turned on some smooth jazz (I think he was kidding -- he had to have been right?) and soon we were half-dressed, panting and sweaty. I have to admit, the idea of having sex with him in a semi-public place was kind of exciting, but I&amp;#039;m still not ready to dive in, or let him dive in, I should say. I&amp;#039;m definitely attracted to him, and we have fun together, but I&amp;#039;m just not feeling a real emotional connection. So we fooled around a little bit\u2026and I felt slightly guilty when we left the room and saw a line of would-be vocalists out the door. But only slightly. ;) "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a7681/bedroom-blog-113007/>