SERIOUSLY, WTF?

I got a new top yesterday that says, "Seriously, WTF?" And it was SO APT.
Sherway Gardens flooded yesterday due to the downpour. Kia didn't believe me until he saw it with his own eyes. Apparently, it wasn't raining "at all" in Sauga.
5 high-five's later, we'd met Georgia downtown, gotten some grub, wandered the streets for a good hour, and gotten sufficiently tipsy to be pleased about the general state of affairs.
Then I started whining (again) about the fact that *Beautiful Boy* still hadn't called me. So Kia suggested I send him a text. "Hi, it's Dunja. Work got cancelled. Wanna hang out tonight?"
In my tipsiness, I forgot all about sounding needy and desperate, and decided to give it one more shot. After all, everyone is always telling me that you have to be super direct with guys, and what's more, if he thought it was needy or desperate, he wasn't the guy for me anyway. Better to find out now then later.
Not even two full minutes later, I get a call from HIM. He says he's refing a soccer game, but that as soon as that's over (he estimates around 8:40pm), he'll give me a call.
2 high-fives later, Kia and I are in front of my house, and he's wishing me luck, and telling me not to act like a dolt on my date.
8:40pm comes and goes.
So does 9:00pm.
So does 9:30pm.
Seriously, WTF?
At 9:45pm, I call Kia to yell, "I'm being stood up!" and ask him what HE'S doing, so that I don't end up sitting by myself in my house, all dressed up with nowhere to go. He says, "Don't worry, he'll call."
Not even two minutes later, HE CALLS.
Seriously, WTF?
"Sorry, I got a little side-tracked. I'm going camping tomorrow and I just thought I'd pack up before we headed out, 'cause we're leaving super early."
Oh.
I'm not sure if it's a good enough reason, because, how long does it take to pick up a phone and say "I'm just going to pack up a few things for camping, so give me another hour, and then we'll get together"? (When I do it, it takes five seconds). But whatever. He's beautiful.
He (finally) gets here, and I'm a spaz. Running around turning lights off, the tv, checking the stove, finding my jacket. I say a few dolt-ish things, he acknowledges that they were dolty by laughing, but it's not like, "Wow, you're a dolt" laughter, it's like, "Oh, it's kinda cute that you're nervous" laughter. I hope.
As time passes by, I start to compose myself a little bit better. I stop fiddling with my hair and start thinking about what I'm saying. He asks me a few good questions that set me off on rants, and soon I'm comfortably and easily telling him my life story. He seems interested in what I have to say. He laughs at all the right parts, and we seem to have a lot in common. When he talks, it's in an amusing way, about interesting things. He tells me an unfortunate childhood story involving a ski-lift, and makes me promise I'll keep it between us. I make a few jokes about *that* being the reason that he's so slow. He takes the beating good-naturedly; says that he'll deal with me when we get outside. "They have cameras in here," he explains.
We laugh. At each other. At ourselves. Occasionally together. There is no crying.
At one point, I'm tempted to give him a high-five, but I restrain myself.
I also don't shout, "Ranch!" at any time.
When we finally look at the time, we realize hours have passed, and that he has to be up soon to make his trip.
He walks me to my door. We wave to my sister who is sitting up in bed and spying on us through her window. We say some stuff, I don't remember what it is, something about thanks and I had fun and whatever, Call me. And then we hug. And then we kiss. And it's like, "Whoa".
I want to shout it from the rooftops, but it's late, so I settle for hissing, "Yessssss".
"Raise your hand if your sister's a HO-MO!" my sister shouts from her room in reply.

Yeah, seriously, WTF? I'm preeeeetty homo.
But he gives me butterflies. And I'm loving it.