Oh, the baseball game was really fun! Cubs 9, Brewers 2. Socializing was fun, too, but in future I can do without tailgating in the blazing sun. Just put me in the bleachers, in the shade, with a beer.

The guy with a million friends is a good source of information on the male perspective, and I took full advantage of this by peppering him with questions. Poor guy! He was a good sport, though, and offered some helpful insights.

He wanted to know if The Irishman and I have had The Talk. Gosh, I thought, there are so many talks to have. This one, apparently, involves establishing whether we're dating each other exclusively. Of course we are, because neither of us has time to date anyone else, but we have not established that we're doing this on purpose. How in the world would I know if it's time to have The Talk, I wondered, and he asked me, "Do you want to date only The Irishman?" And the answer is: I don't know.

Well, that's the short answer. The long answer is: I don't have time to date anyone else, I don't want to stir my life up even more by dating someone else, and I don't want HIM to date anyone else because I want him to love me exclusively and eternally. (Hahahaha. That's a little joke. A joke!) But if I met another guy who seemed terrific and asked me out, I would probably want to say yes. That seems perfectly natural to me, which I guess means there's no need to have The Talk yet.

But this hypothetical guy would have to impress me in a very big way with his outrageous terrific-ness, doubly so if going out with him would mean forfeiting a date with my current, er, whatever-he-is. I'm not saying it couldn't happen; I'm just saying, uh, I don't know what I'm saying.

Ow, I have actually given myself a headache.

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