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Can you say that to a girl? Hungry Hungarian texted me yesterday literally just as I was publishing the “I’m a fake” post: “Hey! How have you been doing? Wanna meet up for a drink soon?”. She smokes and, having now given it some thought since our last meeting (the Xbox evening), I have realised that smokers just don’t do it for me. They stink. And they make me stink as well. All that crap about smokers being better at oral sex just because they’re used to using their mouths? Utter rubbish. The alleged coolness of smoking? Save me! I saw a woman at a bus stop this evening, lips firmly pressed around a cigarette and looking at the time table. She looked like a moron. There’s nothing good with smokers. Sure I might not kick a smoker out of my bed if she’s hot enough, but that’s as far as it goes for me. I know, seems like a pretty arbitrary and stupid condition considering smoking is, arguably, a flaw that can be fixed. There are just too many nice non-smokers out there for me to bother starting anything serious with a smoker.
That said, perhaps I should go for a drinky Hungry Hungarian anyway.
It’s Valentine’s Day soon so I figured I’d get the ball rolling, in an effort to be prepared. You see, where I’m from, Valentine’s is not really celebrated so I’m a bit of a rookit. But I figure if one is interested in someone 14 Feb would appear to be a very good day to make it known. Somehow.
So, the theme is (drumroll): what’s accepted behaviour when you’re not together with or currently dating someone, what can you do, what’s borderline, and what’s definitely a no-no? Oh, and let’s get a little wild and dreamy – how would you want to, nay, what would be your absolute favourite way to spend Valentine’s? Perhaps have you already had such a Valentine’s, been swept off your feet? Or do you fear you’ll never receive such treatment? Has anyone of you even got together with someone solely or mainly because of what happened on Valentine’s, sort of the last drop that made your cup spill over (rather than the last nail in the coffin 
?
I just watched Patch Adams. It’s been a while since the last time. But oh my how I like it. Sure, it’s slightly too easy and perfect, slightly too Hollywoodish in its approach to solving problems and curing the incurable. Too black and white, some may say. But it is based on a true story. There’s something to be said for being happy, friendly, helpful, and genuinely interested in any and everyone – a good, kind person. It got me thinking. There’s definitely something here, something which applies to meeting that special someone. Be yourself some say. Hmm maybe. However, I think most people when being themselves are not very pleasant. Certainly this is – in the large majority of cases – due to external factors, the everyday chores of paying bills, experiencing shortage of time, lacking money, loneliness, crap partners, etc etc. It all brings us down, drains us. But still, even if that’s not really how people are, this the person we see. So most if not all, therefore, play or act to attract. A dubble deception thus. So a bigger change is required if you truly want to be a better person. And this in turn, well, turned my attention to neuro-linguistic programming and it’s model of six “neurological levels”. Starting from the bottom, there’s:
♥ environment (where, when and with whom you do things),
♥ behaviour (what you do or say),
♥ capability (how you do it),
♥ beliefs and values (what’s important to you), and
♥ identity (who you are).
♥ spirituality/connectedness (your higher purpose/contribution to the world)
The theory says that changing the lower levels will have less long lasting effect than changing the higher ones. Change for instance your beliefs or values and ripple effects ensue which affect the lower levels. Find your purpose in life and everything else will fall into place. Truly fascinating. But requires work. A lot of work. Some would say it’s easier to act and then when you’ve met that special someone – i.e. when you’ve snared her or him with your socially acceptable, if not expected, deception – you show yourself, hoping that, by then, an attraction has developed which will make it more costly for your partner to break up than to stay.
Just some incoherent 1 a.m. ramblings when I really should be sleeping.
Friday was, well, interesting. At around 8 p.m., I receive a phone call from a number I don’t have in my phone, no name pops up. “Hello?” “Hi, it’s Danish”. Maintain cool. “Hey, what’s up?” She proceeds to ask me if I’d like to go ice skating at this outdoor rink in the centre that same evening. She points out, as one should to friends so as not to give any false impressions, that it won’t be only the two of us but that other friends are coming too. I say yes, and we hang up. I had deliberately refrained from making plans in order to work at home that evening. Twenty minutes later she calls again saying it’s raining outside and that all of us should instead meet at a bar. So I go there, arriving five minutes late…and find that only she is there. Small talk and witty chat ensues. More interesting body language, touching my arm etc. I’m thinking the others should be arriving shortly. But nobody comes for more than an hour. I get mixed feelings about this spontaneous tete-a-tete encounter: did she deliberately organise it before the drinks in order to see me or was this just a result of the other friends always being late? Maybe it’s my ego talking (see link to article below re male and female bias when dating) but I’m inclined to believe the former. Then again maybe not. After a while her German Friend arrives, a very pretty tall blonde lady and so I find myself with two gorgeous women at a bar, much to the envy of the whole male population in the bar. I had promised to make it an early evening so after the rest of the gang has arrived and we’ve had some drinks and it’s midnight, I decide to go home to be fresh for all the serious and important work I have to do on Saturday.
Walking home I run into BiertjeMan and Gay Peruvian who are marching inappropriately like SS soldiers up and down an alley near my house. Hilarious. And of course I cannot just go home and so find myself visiting three more places. At one bar we invent a game. We summon the barmaid, a busty seemingly clueless blonde whose boyfriend is sitting at the bar playing with his laptop (odd). The game is very simple: we ask who of the three of us is gay and who is straight. Gay Peruvian is somewhat surprisingly (because he’s rather flaming) declared straight. BiertjeMan, the barmaid says, “is not as easy”. She goes for “probably straight but not sure”. Much laughter ensues. My turn, and I’m in dread as this woman’s gaydar is obviously in need of maintenance. Here she’s completely certain – gay. Even more laughter ensues, though on my part it is a forced and rather uneasy one. My God. This however leads to a Great Plan and at the next place the three of us are playing gay for the evening. Gay Peruvian and myself are a couple and BiertjeMan is our hang-around. I need perhaps not explain how amazingly popular we suddenly become with the women we meet. It was ridiculous. Guess it has something to do with women letting down their defences (also pejoratively known as ‘bitch shields’) when they meet supposedly gay men.
Fast forward to yesterday. Birthday Party of A Kiwi. A Very Long and Late Evening with A Lot of People. During which Danish and I dance – we dance really well together (and we all know what that means) – and there’s the odd “innocent” hand-holding as we pass each other in the party. At a certain moment very early in the morning she half sits/lies on one of those Fat Boy™ sacks. I lie down sideways, placing my head on her tummy and she starts caressing my arm. Well this was 4 a.m. but still. Next thing, she and I and another friend share a taxi home. Friend gets off first and then as we’re approaching my stop I say “Perhaps a cinema tomorrow evening?” She’s positive to the idea but adds, almost as if she feels that she has to, that we should check with other people as well.
Analysis. Clearly Danish and I suffer from Unclarity, a known dating-related disorder. We’re in that weird land when it’s not yet clear if we’re going to go down the Friends Route or if we’ll to try that rather more interesting, but certainly more uncertain Dating Path. It’s a fact that both men and women decide fairly quickly upon meeting a new person if they could date that person. And because Danish and I have not spent that much time together, we’ve not yet had the chance to find out which of the two ways we will choose. Add to this the fact that we’re both in this rather close, if extended and nebulous, group of friends and things become more complicated. I’m not saying that this in itself militates against dating – we’re definitely mature enough to handle such things as the awkwardness which may occur after having finished dating should it not work out. What I mean is that being in a group of friends complicates things slightly because it does constrain as more than only the connection between the two of us is, potentially, at stake should things go sour. For clean dating it’s really better to meet people who are either entirely outside, or at least more peripheral to, one’s group(s) of friends. But the problem with Danish and me is that we’re now starting to accumulate time together and unless the Unclarity is cured, we’ll automatically slide into the LJBF Land. I therefore feel I will have to be clear with her in my behaviour and approach that I’m interested. Then we’ll see where that goes.
On the topic of dating logic and how we fool ourselves when looking for a (short-term or long-term) Mate, here’s an interesting article Irish gave me the other day. Some really interesting conclusions. And it got me thinking, especially this bit:
“Men and women selectively tune into the noisy channel of opposite-sex interest depending on their own gender-specific needs: Men scan for sexiness and availability; women scavenge for clues to personality and commitment readiness.”
I have to be honest. Sure, I’m looking for a girlfriend, or actually a girlfriend+ since it’s somehow about time I got settled (or is it? That’s a topic for a later post I think), but one has to start somewhere. But as a man, I’m still very much driven by a desire for short-term commitment and sex. This is the honest truth. When I go out, like yesterday at the party, I feel that I look at women, including Danish, not as “potential long-term partners” but as “targets for short-term pleasure which may develop into something long-term”. This is how la parisienne and I began. In fact, it’s how my last two relationships began. I am wondering, if not doubting, if it is such a smart move to go about dating this way and I feel caught in-between these two desires. I’m not sure if women feel the same way – according to the article, “women [...] tend to rally for an earlier commitment” than men, something which creates the apparent collision course of interests. But from a man’s point of view it’s tricky because we’re supposed to be seen as sexual beings, rather than nice guys, in order to attract women. The nice guy thing, which is latent in all men except rapists and mentally ill individuals, can always be brought out later. Oh well, and as I’m writing this I get a text from Danish about tonight and movies. Sorry gotta go and reply.
Well that famous old song should’ve been called “Oh what a weekend” to properly illustrate my life since Friday. Who-ha! Where do I start?
Remember how I was to have dinner with little officer + fiancée, Football Player, and perhaps K, the girl who’s a long-time friend of little officer’s fiancée’s? Well, as I was given K’s number a little too late on Thursday to call and ask about the dinner, I decided to text her instead. After a suitably nice and charming message ending with an offer to call her in the morning with more info, I sat waiting eagerly by my mobile (and, incidentally, watching the movie “Prime” – uneasily applicable to myself and la parisienne, sigh). K’s reply was almost too quick and said that she unfortunately had plans. I was slightly confused so this week I brought it up with my sound-minded friend Irish. My confusion stemmed from an assumption of mine (and I know that when you assume you make an ass of u and me) that the dinner had been a done deal, considering that the fiancée had really pushed me to contact K. Sure, part of my feeling was a bit of rejection or, um, miff (or whatever the noun is) about not getting K to join, but that’s ego. More importantly, I was wondering if Irish really thought that little officer’s fiancée and K had not discussed the blind dinner date and me when they had celebrated New Year’s together. Irish said that little officer’s fiancée had probably “lied” to me when she said this. Of course they had talked, she said adding several exclamation marks! It had just been one of those “lies” in order not to divulge what girls say to each other about boys. Anyway…if it’s true it’s a bit of a weird behaviour. I have therefore decided to put K on the shelf.
The dinner on Friday however was a nice affair. Fast Lieutenant and Lady M also joined and so Football Player and myself found ourselves at dinner with two engaged couples. This was in itself not a problem as they are friends and it’s cool that they’re engaged and, therefore, relationship-wise accomplished. Though at a certain point during the dinner after the Xth bottle of Allesverloren I sensed that also Football Player (who’s currently single) had had enough of the fairly regular smooching on both coasts of the table. I mean what is it with newly-engaged people? It’s like they really cannot have anything better to eat, nibble or lick than each other’s tonsils. Yuk. And at the dinner table! Really. Anyway all in all, we committed an excellent dinner together, and managed to follow it up with an equally excellent evening/night. Though no chica for me (or Football Player).
As lame as it may seem, I have asked both little officer and Fast Lieutenant to keep their eyes open for suitable ladies for me. They know what I’m looking for and that while I currently live in another country, I’m certainly the kind of person who would not hesitate to fly home every weekend if that’s what it would take to find out if a girl’s interesting (plus at the moment I can afford doing so). So far the only one who’s bitten the bait was K. Fingers crossed.
Now rapidly onwards to Saturday, the day which I arrived here at my undisclosed location with X-mas presents, Russian souvenirs and lots of dirty laundry. For those of you who know your Julian calendar, Russians celebrate their “Old New Year” on 13-14 January, with Christmas being celebrated one week earlier. This meant that I literally flew straight into an ongoing Russian Christmas Party organised by Marinsky and Russian Cleavage. There, I found a very Cute Canadian (and in fact I think I will nickname her that). Very intelligent and quick-witted, if somewhat anal. Something which she happily volunteered when she described her Christmas vacation which she had planned in a way that would have made General Patton green with envy.
Anyway, as we’re chatting and getting along really well in walks Danish, who has just spent the better part of four hours playing four games of squash. Bloody hell, was pretty much all I was thinking. Finally a girl who really likes to do sports. Rare. Anyway, she also happens to be good friends with Cute Canadian and so the three of us chatted away and I was all witty and funny without dominating the conversation too much and without overtly hitting on either of them because I really wanted to attract both their interest rather than force myself upon them. Well you know how it is at a party. Inebriation ensues though at this party it was controlled until Russian Cleavage brought out the vodka chessboard. Just after that I got a moment alone with Danish and she told me (most likely because her tongue had become untied by the liquor) straight up that in the beginning she had thought I seemed “boring”. I had to ask her once more to repeat because I really couldn’t believe my ears. Me? I smiled my mocking smile and she added quickly and totally endearingly “but I see I was very wrong”. Good save. So we danced, and danced. A lot. And my she’s a fox, what a body! Plus she’s strong-willed and independent, which I like.
All went really well until some other dudes started interfering. Or perhaps I was the one interfering considering I’m sort of the new dude in the gang and she may very well have had built-up channels to other guys (at least two of whom were there that night) before I joined the group. So it didn’t take long before she snogged a short not too attractive Aussie with spikey hair in the corridor leading to the kitchen (oh how romantic. Not). Oh well, I thought, your loss. I’ll bide my time and dance with Cute Canadian.
So more dancing and my oh my, even more foxy! She danced like a white R’n'B back-up vocalist, amazing moves. Well at this time we were well past 2 a.m. and so we had jelly legs and felt daring. Which probably explains why she and I crashed, me on top (184cm muscles; kidding) with my back towards her, right onto the side of the coffee table which was suitably pushed into a corner. Bruises on her shoulder and neck and she probably hit her head too a little. Did I feel like an IDIOT? Yes, do a wiki of the word and you’ll see my picture. Daauuum. Of course two guys immediately stepped up adding helpful advice, like we must not let you fall asleep tonight because you’ve got a serious concussion and may die if you close your eyes. Etc etc. Innuendo. I felt less than happy, partly because I hadn’t controlled myself better and but mainly because these guys would not let me care for her, a need I had to show her that I really wasn’t such a clumsy loaf. But alas they would not let me, so I got pissed off and extracted myself from the party after a little while.
Of course there’s a new year’s party this weekend as well and I really have no clue how to behave at that one seeing that I may very well have been stamped persona non grata by a large chunk of the people in this gang. Though Marinsky seems to like me still as she suggested drinks tonight (hurrah).
What else has happened? Oh yes, the g-reat news! Barbie. Is. Single. Ta-daa! What shall I do? The daring approach, going in with guns blazing (and then meekly asking if she’d like to join for a coffee?)? Or wait a bit and see if we meet at work and a more spontaneous conversation could ensue around, for instance, what she did over the Christmas holidays (though I suspect the honest answer would be “I broke up with/got dumped by my boyfriend”). Ugh. Not easy.
What say you, people? How quickly after a break-up can you approach them? Should you lie and pretend you know zero about it? Gimme something to work with here.
Kiss, peace, love and understanding
My friend Rubs has a son who is about half a year now. Rubs is currently going through the process of cutting through red tape in order to put his son in a creche. While doing this someone recommended Rubs to get in touch with the relevant authorities to also organise a pre-school place for his son already now, in other words take care of something which happens in 4.5 years from now. Exactly, already now? Yes. So Rubs called and found out that he’s actually late for applying for a pre-school of his choice. My God, was my reaction. I mean, imagine next time I end up at, say, the fourth or fifth date with a girl I really like. Should one topic really have to be which pre-school our potential first-born should go to? I can just imagine how the conversation would run, the worried look on my date’s face as she nervously starts fidgeting with her handbag. And my forever burning any bridge to that girl. Sigh. As if life wasn’t difficult enough.
Since I broke up with la parisienne I’ve rediscovered my interest in clothes and shoe shopping. Yummy! I’m lucky to live in a city where there are tons of good shops, stocking almost any conceivable brand, even though the city is fairly small. And now over the hols I’ve shopped away on lots more, several pairs of jeans, shirts etc (acne jeans is highly recommended). Possibly this desire to shop for new things results from the breakup. I guess it’s quite normal. Then again, a style change is long overdue and I’m happy it’s finally happening. Though it’s not so much a complete change rather than an addition or expansion of my style. I have ventured into the land of the more stylish and hip and I really enjoy it. What my bank account says is another matter (even though the UN pays well Prada is, I’m sure, not the ordinary shopping diet for UN staff members).
On to another topic. I went to body pump today and had a wonderful work-out. I really like it. Tones great, builds enough without sacrificing flexibility, and gives a tonne of p u r e energy. There were lots of ladies there as always. Strangely enough there are always much more ladies than men at body pump. I’d have thought it would be a men thing but nope it’s not. This is a really great place to meet ladies (heads up Londongirl! Though men for you of course). And this even though some of them don’t like to be seen when they’re sweaty etc (though us men like it There’s something truly sexual about exercising really hard to pumping music in a room with 30 other people. And the ladies that are hottish to hot appear to be the ones who don’t mind to be sweaty in front of guys. Confidence is definitely key here. Unfortunately I’m going back to my other country on Friday so I didn’t approach any of the ladies as I would not have any time to meet up with them in reasonable time. Though I’ll be back in February so then I’ll be more active.
I recently joined an online dating site. You know, one of those where you can put up a profile and take a “personality test” using which the site will automatically match you with Potential Perfect Partners for you. One of those sites where, in order to be able to see who’s hiding behind member number AHB2039493 you’ll have to pay and become a premium member.
I didn’t become a paying member but taking the rather elaborate personality quiz made me wonder. Why would I want to be with someone who’s like I am to 77%? Because that’s what happened. I started receiving emails with profiles of women who had also written that they’re “temperamental, stylish, stubborn” etc. Is there any scientific (ok, I’ll settle for simple statistics) proof that the best matches/happiest couples are those where both are basically opposite-sex versions of each other? Sounds effing stupid to me. But the site claims it works, and, of course, posts various stories where alleged couples describe how they started emailing back and forth, eventually moved on to phone calls and then a first date and how it said “click” and, ta-daa, love at first sight. Then condo, kids, cat, etc.
I have since stopped using this site for two reasons:
1) It is utterly appalling, if not disgraceful, to make money off people’s innermost desires – it is not any different from online subscriber porn sites (besides, why use them when there’s lots of free stuff out there anyway 
and
2) This forced secrecy is ridiculous when people just want to get in touch. It’s like a faulty banking system. Banks are there to make financial transactions easier, not to hinder them by skimming unnecessary fees and delaying transfers. Sure, one should be able to make money and I realise that I don’t have much of an argument, save the emotional one, but what the heck.
So thank Heavens for Myspace, which I shall henceforth join. Well, at least I’m thinking about it seriously.
I mean, really know that someone is the right person for you? I watched Return of the King yesterday night and at the end there’s a scene where Aragorn has just been crowned king and where suddenly all the elves appear. Of course his beloved Arwen, who has given up her immortality to be with him, is also there and it is, quite frankly, a beautiful display of love when they meet. This made me wonder how I would know if someone is really the Right One, or even the One for me (and I say this knowing that there are definitely several, if not many, Ones out there for each of us but at a certain point one tires of the search)? Have I already met her perhaps? Could it be that it is la parisienne, with whom I’ve felt so good? Or should I stress our differences more in order to tell myself she’s not the One? Then again there’s that thing saying that one should, in fact must, strive and struggle to keep something going and that nothing good ever really comes for free. So maybe I should do so in order to convince her not only of what she’s lost but that in fact that I am her One? On the other hand, of course she may still not want me, or at least believe that she doesn’t and that makes such an attempt at making her realise I’m the One really an uphill battle. If not futile. God I’m lost.
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