Excuse Me...

Things are still wonderful with Mr New.  I still have butterflies and the plastic smell has yet to wear off.  But there is one thing.  Mr. New is not shy, he is not modest and he is not aware of the fact that I may be.  OK- I know you are thinking..her? modest?  I know I share pretty much every aspect of my life with the world (ha ha- wishful thinking that the whole world is reading Slightly Irrational..I'm picturing women in the Far East being caned for reading my blog..and that makes me smile...I know...disgusting)  but there are a few things that I would like to keep private.  My bathroom habits for example.  I should have picked up on Mr New's no privacy policy when I entered his bathroom for the first time.  Not only is there a urinal- yes a urinal, but the gigantic, beautiful, 6 shower head shower is not only door less- but curtain less as well.  I did not pick up on that immediately.  The first time I stayed the night I should have picked up on the fact that Mr New would enter the bathroom- leave the door open, go about his business all while not pausing the conversation which began before his need to relieve himself.  But Mr. New is a man- and we can even expect this behavior.  What I did not expect was for him to expect the same bold bathroom behaviors from me.  Surely if I entered the bathroom built for a King and shut the door behind me, Mr new would take that as a subtle clue of my need of a few minutes to myself.  Well folks it doesn't take the winner of Celebrity Apprentice to know what is coming next and it is not a knock.  It is an enter.  It is an enter, glance in my vulnerable direction, and then a carrying on.  I sit, stunned..nervous, uncomfortable, and totally embarrassed as Mr New nonchalantly asks me what we are doing later.  How am I to think of what we are doing later while practicing Keigals to hold my pee mid stream?  I can't think of where I would like to dine later while on the throne....and so I wait.  And eventually Mr. New, apparently bored with my bathroom going ons leaves me.  He does not shut the door but at least I am alone.  I am free to release.  I am free to quickly gather myself and exit the Kings Commode relatively unharmed..slightly emotionally scarred.