One two, testing testing

There is simply no excuse to fall off the grid the way I have. To be truth, the fact that about three months ago my most loyal partner, my computer, tragically died victim of a drunk night in which Drummer and his friends drowned it to death in rum while I was unconscious already; Together with all what has gone on I barely have time to think. I guess when you finally find a guy that could be the right one, you get swept of your feet in such a brutal way, that you enter this actually pathetic honey moon state of mind in which well… everything falls of your grid except for him.

 

I guess this relationship has developed so fast in such a short period of time that is it a bit hard to capture single experiences and key learning out of it. What I can tell you is that yours truly is growing up. Sometimes it is exciting, most of the times horrifying, and the thing is that when you are used to a whole lot of shit with men, good things, serially, can be pretty scary. I am still waiting for the moment when I am going to realize that this is all a lie and I am as dumb as I ever was, but I think it is not going to happen. And as this is for once not happening, a whole new set of questions and possibilities are rising in front of my eyes, and I will be glad to share, but mostly to hear from you.

 

It is because of you that I am back. If it wasn’t for your comments, mails and notes here and there I wouldn’t be writing this lines.

 

In order for you to understand a bit of the last months, I will share with you an E-mail I wrote to my close friends, not that long ago, sharing with them the deepest of my fear today. Tonight I will sit, think of those things that have made my head or my heart run a bit faster, I will get my cynical self back and out of that stoned state caused by the beginning of something great and we will get back in touch.

 

Worry not, I am single if not lonely

 

—-

 

Dear all,

 

So here is a little big update/sharing I have. In two basic points:

 

1. I am about to start a new chapter of my life with a clean slate

2. I have never been so scared of my life and the future

 

Big points with the back up of what to me are big news.

 

Good Bye to the Seilgraben 

 

In two weeks from now I will leave my apartment. The beautiful apartment I had for the last seven years is becoming history. I know, it is only a flat, but leaving my hideaway is giving me the most horrifying feeling of uncertainty I had so far, because until now even if things got nasty, and they have, I always came back here. I feel very ashamed by being affected by it, but I really cannot help it. Leaving this flat means closing the chapter that was the last eight years of my life. In this apartment I also leave my flatmate (who will possibly hate me from this point on), a person that has been close to me for the last ten years and with which my story finally comes to an end. Bigger it is because now, finally, I start feeling like a grown up. 

I am worried about my next apartment, insurances, pensions, etc. How to increase my income, taxes, how to save, to invest, etc. How to get out of my shitty job into a better one. If  I never really thought of what would happen next week, now I am thinking of what I will do the next 50 years and I find it overwhelming. All the possible what if’s of life are stuck in my head.

 

 

There is a new home somewhere

 

But all this comes actually from something good. I am looking for an apartment. A new apartment to start a new life with the most wonderful person I could have ever met. Drummer and I will move in together, first into his apartment and then into a new one. We are looking for the perfect one to make our new home. If I feel scared of detaching from my past, I couldn’t think of any better person to do it for than him. Never in my life since I left my parents ten years ago, I have felt so authentically loved, respected and in such a wonderful state of peace and acceptance. This is the man that makes me feel like I want to make it to make it work, instead of giving all up to make it somehow function. I never felt so home. 

It is truth what people tell; once you find the one, you know it; and after years of questioning monogamy, marriage and even the preservation of the specie I can say I am not looking for anyone else, for nothing else and I am filled with excitement and joy because we are going for the long haul. My mom says she will put a monument to the man that has finally managed to

make me stay in one single place and made me not only start saving, but going to the gym and even eating a vegetable or two.

 

The time through all the very wrong guys has paid off and your favourite soap opera is coming to an end in Germany or Mexico sometime within the next year or maybe two. We don’t know exactly when so until then we wont make lots of noise. First as we say “we have to put our shit together” and then we will pick some day, some place and somehow and manage all three languages and intercontinental flights together. Right now we only now we don’t like much of the show, we don’t really like the church, that we want something very small and that we would love to go to Papete and see time fly. 

And as I know some of you are also going through some big changes too I wish you all best luck.

 

If you have the luck to be able to chill these days… carry on.

 

Peace out,

S.

Youth

Pictures always make you think about life. Nowadays technology even lets you see someone else’s pictures, even after years of your last conversation happening.

It is a boring afternoon like many others in which you have nothing better to do than to be nosy, but this time besides finding out who is married, who is not and who is already in the process of reproducing, you realize that most people in those pictures were once part of yours even if they are not there anymore. Quickly you realize how all that was familiar is not anymore, and the most interesting part is to realize what would be familiar to you if you had or hadn’t done certain things with your life.

As you keep flipping the electronic pages, showing mostly happy faces, you put away your agnostic thought – Are they really happy or just lying to themselves to make things all right? – And focus on the superficial. Most of them look old, what you would consider old back when they were smiling besides you on the class picture, and to your relief you realize you look about the same as ten years back. You can notice some of the rough treatment you gave to your body in the last few years, but overall you look young, perhaps much younger than you really are.

And as you see the almost middle aged looking men that are together with those that were your school mates and twigs at one point in time, you warmly look at your partner’s picture. He looks so young, his face and his body are wonderful… his entire entity is full of life, he is surrounded by a certain curiosity and innocence that are long gone in the faces of those men. Their holiday pictures look like they were taken out of a pink novel… in a remote place, during a wedding in Mexico:

A woman wears a large amount of make up with an over styled dress, she lets you know she once was young, and sometimes she hides a pregnant body. She is hugged by a man wearing a white shirt that strangles him a little. He looks older, his arms, somewhere between strong and chubby are around her as the Sun reflects on those parts of his skull’s skin where hair will never again grow as well as on his shining expensive watch. They are smiling profusely; she holds a flower that makes a strong contrast to her dress at the moment the photographer took the picture. You always wonder why is it that people from your generation at home seem to be so crazy about pretending they were New York’s jet set.

Your pictures with your boyfriend, they are different. Usually there are more people. He is holding a cigarette, you are holding a drink, perhaps a joint and someone else in the picture is screaming. It looks more like the pictures taken in a party that got out of hand. No one is wearing anything else than a t-shirt, an old pair of jeans and worn out chucks and knows that out of hand is actually their normal state.

Most of your electronic pages do not reveal the romance you and him have, but people that see you cannot deny it. You are deeply in love, and maybe you are even more romantic than those people in the perfect pictures because neither of you believe in perfect love and you think you could lose each other any minute. Besides that, there is something else you share that those old couples don’t have any more, besides loving each other; you are in love with your youth.

Technology that brings your past on your face

When the past blasts you

There are times in which as we are living life care free, something brings back a powerful memory… emotions wake up. In this super connected planet we live in, it gets harder and harder not to know things you don’t want to know. Personally, in the last few months the past gave me few slaps that really made me wonder if I had moved on from different memories or not; yes, the times in which finding out something by chance I really felt very close to lose it.

The Facebook Wall

I think it starts happening to everyone… we start wondering if Facebook is a place of joy or torture. Even if you are in love you can’t help yourself to have a quick peak at your past men walls, and so I found out Barman has a new girlfriend because his sister dropped him a message wishing them a good trip.

In a short message I found out that she exists, that she is from Liverpool and that they were going to Disneyland together. No, it wasn’t the typical status change that notifies you your ex has someone new, it was somehow more painful. For a good day I was thinking of him, missing him and later on feeling like a mind cheater, which occurred again when I found out they were not together anymore but instead of suffering I was ridiculously joyful.

The Old Picture

So again… Facebook attacks… you are fooling around killing time and you see a random friend loaded pictures from ages ago. You decide to check them out for the warmth of the memory and suddenly it is there: A picture of you and your ex, he looks sexy and you look happy.

When I found that old picture of me and Classyboy the most awful mixture of happiness and sadness became overwhelming. I remembered how much I loved him and that that trip to Italy was simply the most romantic thing I have ever lived. Of course then I had to remember that he cheated on me with his ex and made out with one of my “best friends” on my face.

Chatting to catch up

Sometimes despite really painful stories you stay friends with an ex. No, not apparently, but you actually talk about things, stay in touch and have had moments of honest friendship post break up. And because you are friends, sometimes you find out things that will get the old girlfriend out of the deepest of your skin to traumatize you.

After Classyboy cheated on me with Le Bitch (his ex) and made out with one of my “best friends” on my face to dump her a week later to start a relationship with the first one, being friends honestly was not an easy task. I guess we made it thanks to all the common friends we have, and with time, I got used to ask about her without my stomach revolving, he got to be a good friend when things between Barman and I went flat and he now asks about Drummer. I guess asking about “the one after” is never an easy thing to do, and this time doing it as a part of the routine he told me he is trying to convince her to move in with him.

Seriously… do I have to tell you how I felt? To me he was a bastard and with her he has finally grown up… my my my…

The Wondering After

And then you are left wondering… Have I really moved on? Why does it bother me? Is it normal? Am I being unfair to my current partner? Am I a total asshole? The good news are that most of the time the recurrent thoughts about the ex in question will stop in few hours and you will live life just as before technology helped your past blast you. Thanks God I haven’t found any of them doing something super cheesy with someone else… I guess that is the only advantage of having dated all these emotionally unavailable men.

Subject: Wanna fuck?

That Awful Third Date

Do you remember the Doctor? Maybe you remember all the comings and goings that happened before we went out on a first date, my story of the crazy second date we had and the third date we had (watching a movie at his place) that was the most awful thing you can imagine. There was no Chemistry at all. I remember wondering if he would ever make a move or I should make a move and if I made it would I be a total slut, so we were there, sitting, watching a movie I had already watched but he couldn’t understand well because it was in English… I mean, the whole was so off that I was relieved I didn’t sleep with him even if our previous date had been so hot. Somehow I knew he wouldn’t call me, and I knew that was fine for me. I hoped he wouldn’t call me as I wondered how sometimes the hottest men can be so dull. I definitely never saw him as “boyfriend material”, but I thought he could have made a nice “fuck buddy” and I was somehow pretty comfortable not knowing if that would have been or not.

For sex you should call?

Time passed and while the story with Drummer developed, Doctor and I had a couple of polite and absolutely uncompromising chats; By the time I had totally given up on Drummer (and the humiliation suffered every time something between us would happen and then he would say in all honesty that he didn’t see me as his girlfriend so we’d better stay friends) and I had already been out a couple of times with my friend D. to fish the waters, I received the following message from Doctor:

Hi S.!

What are you doing at that moment? Are you still in Aachen?

I have a lot of work to do at this for several exams, but a little bit of time after Wednesday..

Maybe you like to visit me again and then we will have a great Night with wild and saisfýing sex! Otherwise we only watch a movie…

So I´m looking forward to your Answer, babe;-)!

Kisses , Doctor

Should I say the whole is so direct that when I read it I didn’t get it in the beginning? Afterward I didn’t know if I should feel flattered, insulted or what… What kind of guy sends a mail like this? What kind of girl does he think I am? What happened to calling a girl, getting her drunk and have this “wild night”? I again felt old fashioned, and I started thinking what I should do.

After several consultations with my friend L. and seeing things with Drummer as realistic as the could have been at the time, I decided, this is a hot man that in the beginning I only wanted for fun and I was cynical and confident enough to know that if not now I wouldn’t get laid in a decent while and… my list of conquest had slowed down dramatically since the Drummer appeared, so I decided to go for it. What a better way to get Drummer out of my mind?

So we had a couple more chats of the type that show I know some things a guy I care for shouldn’t know and I was looking forward to it, when… well, history has a way to repeat itself. If you read F**k off! Love. Yours. You will know what I am talking about. So few hours before we were supposed to meet he texted me to say he was sick and we couldn’t meet. If I did feel a bit like a fool, I am again relieved he is simply himself and saved me in his clumsiness from sleeping with him.

Saved by the drums

Three days later, Drummer came back from a tour directly to my birthday party to say he was in love with me, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if we didn’t give it a shot. After the party we stayed all day in bed for the best birthday I ever had.

Few days later I received a message from Doctor:

Hey babe,

Do you still want to meet and fuck?

Love,Doctor

I smiled to myself and replied with the same cynicism with which I accepted his previous invitation and probably drove him mad in our earlier chat: Sorry, things have changed and now I am fucking someone else who also makes me happy.

How NOT to be friends with your Ex

The Geek spilled the beans

Some days ago, I went online to check my mails. When Gtalk opened, an old college friend was online. He is getting married on coming June and after he showed me a couple of designs for his wedding invitation he said the previous night he attended a party in Prague in which he bumped into The Geek. As the conversation moved forward he asked me – Are you loud in bed? – I was dumbfounded. How could he know if I am loud in bed or not? I never even had sex in the room next to his! Suddenly it hit me… The Geek is living in Prague, he must have said something. As I asked about it, my friend cracked up laughing, illustrating how my ex had very explicitly told the stories of our nights together in a party full of people that know me, saying how I was loud and he was worried the dorm walls were too thin.

I felt as if suddenly a secret about me had been told to an entire crowd, as if an unspoken confidence promise between exs had been broken. I was so upset! What to do about it? And this is the man that for the last four years, since we broke up keeps trying to get me back… way to go! Probably the poor man never thought I would hear about his indiscretion, or maybe if he was aware that so many people I know where there he had talked about me in that was on purpose because obviously even in different countries I would hear about it with the speed of light.

Disciplinary action

An action was required from my side. Soon a large portion of my social circle will know I am loud in bed, and that is a fact that was reserved only to those that had been in bed with me. I suddenly felt for the second time in my life that I didn’t need to know of a person ever again; the guilt I usually felt for breaking his heart in a gazillion pieces when I broke up with him years ago disappeared and I wanted him to know why we would never talk again, so two steps action:

1. I wrote the following E-mail:

To: The Geek
From: S.
Subject: Guess… a funny story, when I heard it I had to think of you.

Oh man! Such a funny story…

A good friend went to the party the last night, it seems a farewell of a friend of his, and after this party he and other people know so many things about this girl a guy in the party was going out with ages ago, you know, the type of personal details that are not to be told to everyone around. My friend told me he went on and on about her in this party for one hour or more, talking to people them both know. I know this girl is friends with her ex-boyfriends to this date, because she knows what belongs to when and that some things you just keep to yourself and they must know that too because they are grown men, except this one it seems, who still acts like a little tattletale.

Isn’t it a funny story? Yes I know you would laugh too.

I hope everything is good on your end.

Greetings to our friends, you probably see them before me, and probably they will talk to me right after that.

Best,

S.

2. Facebook deletion. Imminent. Irrevocable. Out of my friends’ list.

The Rule of the Exs

If you ask me how someone can be friends with their ex, I can say that being quite successful at this particular endeavor you have to:

1. Have accepted that your relationship is over.
2. Understand why you want to have that person in your life as a friend. Most people that remain close to an ex do it in the hope to get back together once and well… that is just fooling you.
3. Act as a friend and use common sense. Fake it till you make it.
4. Stick to the invisible rule in which nothing that happened only between the two of you shall ever come out of your lips unless there is only the two of you there. Breaking this rule will terminate any friendship possibility and will let you being another silly ex.

Confession: Straight

I am back

I guess I didn’t write for a long time now because well, on one hand many things have happened and on the other, nothing has. I like to keep things here interesting to a certain extent, and I suppose the way several situations and ideas happened in life in the last couple of months would give me material to write lots of anecdotes, but that is nothing interesting to read if you are not trapped in the day to day chaos that constitutes my life and this isn’t a diary, so… I know I should have given life signs instead of just falling of the face of Earth, but here I am.

If I had to summarize on one line the biggest thing happening in the last few months it would be saying that I can’t believe it either, but I have a job and after even more coming and going than what you read here, Drummer and I are in a relationship. Yes, for the last two months we are boyfriend and girlfriend, committed and exclusive. I know… I am surprised still, and even if I can tell you I am very happy with the way things are going between us, being his girlfriend has brought me to face a whole different range of issues that were pretty unexplored to me before for example, gay relationships.

Where have they always been?

Shortly before we started seriously dating, Drummer auditioned and was accepted in a punk band of three members. The other two band members are two girls, one plays the guitar and the other one plays the bass and they both are lesbians. I see myself as a supporter of gay rights. I have several friends of different sexual preferences that have been just like all of us in the hoops and loops of finding love but they are mostly men. Is it that we are somehow more accustomed to male homosexuality? Maybe I come from a more conservative place and being raised in a catholic girls school someone being a lesbian would have been a huge scandal and now I am simply not used to see lesbian girls any different than straight girls.

Anyways, the point is that since Drummer joined the band he is under the impression that almost every woman is a lesbian. He doesn’t think about it in a dirty way as we assume men do it when they think of girl on girl action, but he really just thinks he has to be careful (if not jealous) not only of the men around me, but also of the women, in the end maybe I discover I like girls too. The poor guy is so tortured with the thought that he has asked me several times if I ever considered the possibility of homosexuality, and it doesn’t matter how many times I have explained that even if the question came to my mind (like it does for everyone I think), I am pretty certain of my love for men.

And I guess I just understood the ground for his wondering until this weekend.

Confession: Straight

In the last couple of months as we have become increasingly serious about each other, Drummer invited me to join the band to some band work, like gathering footage for their video (they are actually getting big in Belgium, Germany and France), some rehearsals and gigs, etc; And I must say even if their public is mainly straight that in a crew of ten, six women are lesbians that every social occasion get surrounded by more lesbians and as for the four men left, two are gay surrounded by more gay men. The two straight guys are left out feeling dull for having a girlfriend and only sleeping with her (it seems these girls have a really large number of sexual partners too).

Me, what can I say, I get along very well with them. A couple of them are extremely smart, funny and they talk about EVERYTHING. I have always liked people that talk without any remorse so occasionally I found the conversations with the group extremely interesting. Of course they have asked me if I like girls to any degree being the only heterosexual woman in the room, and their parties… in the beginning let’s say they have given me the strange feeling that everyone fucks everything with a pulse (anyone that does not identify as a gay woman or man in these parties is simply bisexual) and lately, just like Drummer, now I have the feeling that everyone is “at least” gay because from feeling pretty comfortable since I met them, there was finally the occasion in which I turned out to be weird, very weird because I fuck men.

It all happened the moment I joined one of Drummer’s band members for a beer (Drummer was utterly wasted already and was immerse in a zero intellect conversation with an 18 year old bisexual kid). We saw a circle of her friends, so we came closer to say hello and do the traditional introduction round.

Imagine the classic introduction round among strangers. People identify as X from Y. Y being, the place where they live, where they were born, or their relationship to the person introducing you to the group, etc; but for the first time in my life Y was your sexual orientation.

X – Hey S! My name is X. I am a lesbian.

Z – Hey S! My name is Z. I am a lesbian too.

Y – Hey S! My name is Y. I am bisexual. What are you?

Me – Oh well… I am eerr… straight.

Y – Oh! Really? (She looked very surprised)

I suddenly saw myself receiving all the ridiculous questions and stereotypes that my gay friends complaint about.

They all stared at me -Really, the wasted blond there is my boyfriend -They “Oooed” once again… I felt like the weirdest person in the universe, as if I had made the sort of confession that involves sex and something not human, not alive, under age or unwilling. You can maybe call it being even, as this is possibly what many gay friends feel when they are introduced to heterosexual circles that put them in the box that modern media created for them.

Soon it was 4am and we were going to bed. As I was about to fall asleep in the arms of my man the last comment I heard was of a girl commenting something about a show on TV “I think she is far more attractive to women than to men”.

Now I also have the feeling that every woman around me could be gay, which is not bad at all, but suddenly I am feeling weird for the strangest confession of all: I have sex with men.

Update

Dear all, I am still alive. Unfortunately lots of things are going on and it is hard to come up with decent thoughts to share. The Drummer remains.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who in the land is the prettiest man of all?

I am the type of girl that likes to write about the current role of women in society and the newer constraints we as women face trying to have a job, a family, good health etc. But this is not an article about that as much as I do like to complaint about the fact that my friends and I are constantly deciding between dying alone or not. Some points are a bit blown up to make a point; I hope I can send across in the right way.

Last time, as I was traveling through Eastern Europe for about two weeks, I carried with me a back pack, the one I used when I was in high school. Still as compact as I am, my male friends still complaint that I carry too many things because I am “such a girl”, I guess that makes them old school men because after I have seen my flat mate packing for a six days trip, I am really wondering who is “such a girl” here. My flat mate and his friends, also fanatics of German design porcelain, like to call themselves: Metrosexuals.

How do you know who is a metrosexual? Well, perhaps it takes one to know one, but to determine a metrosexual, all you have to do is look at them. In fact, if you’re looking at them, they’re almost certainly metrosexual. The typical metrosexual is a young man who might be officially gay, straight or bisexual, but this is utterly immaterial because he has clearly taken himself as his own love object and pleasure as his sexual preference.

For some time now, old-fashioned (re)productive, repressed, unmoisturized heterosexuality has been given the official unemployed status by consumer capitalism. The stoic, self-denying, modest straight male didn’t shop enough (his role was to earn money for his wife to spend), and so he had to be replaced by a new kind of man, one less certain of his identity and much more interested in his image — that’s to say, one who was much more interested in being looked at (because that’s the only way you can be certain you actually exist). A man, in other words, who is an advertiser’s walking wet dream.

Gay men did, after all, provide the early prototype for metrosexuality. Decidedly single, definitely urban, somewhat uncertain of their identity and socially emasculated, gay men in the 70’s had pioneered the business of accessorizing masculinity with the clone look enthusiastically taken up by the mainstream in the form of the Village People. Think about it, A&F may be looked down upon as middlebrow and middle American by the most refined metrosexuals, but its alarming popularity with straight, beer-drinking frat boys is proof of how metrosexuality has gone mainstream.

Perhaps this is because nowadays straight men are also emasculated. Female “Sex and the City” metrosexuality has seen to that. Female metrosexuality is the complement of male metrosexuality, except that it’s active where male metrosexuality is passive. No longer is a straight man’s sense of self and manhood delivered by his relationship to women; instead it’s challenged by it. Women are still generally seen as monarchs of the private world, but as our society has evolved, we are also increasingly assertive in the public world too. And, as the pages of the celeb magazines reveal, the more independent, wealthy, self-centered and powerful women become, the more they are likely to want attractive, well-groomed, well-dressed men around them. Though not for very long. By the same token, the less men can rely on women, the more likely they are to take care of themselves. Narcissism becomes a survival strategy; apparently, most men now actually buy their own underwear and deodorant.

Sometimes it seems as if the only thing holding straights back from full equality with gays is the fact that most restroom facilities are not yet co-ed. Perhaps this is also why anal sex has become such a hot topic. These days my straight male friends talk of no other kind of intercourse. Perhaps because it represents the definition of recreational sex and doesn’t remind them of their responsibilities or maybe because it’s seen as a kind of extreme sport, anal sex has become the unholy grail of metrosexual sex. On a first date you get asked if you do or you don’t while any power girl knows the rules for that anyways.

Think of the media for a second or two…

The relaxed, submissive metrosexuality of David Beckham, posing for gay magazines and more than happy to wear pink shirts — and even pink nail varnish — may be less overtly pathological, and probably represents a more benign or successful adaptation of masculinity to the future, but is a trifle distasteful, not to say occasionally downright nauseating for many of us girls. The final irony of male metrosexuality is that, given all its obsession with attractiveness, vanity for vanity’s sake turns out to be not very sexy after all.

More often than you can imagine women are left out asking when we will find a real man, one with whom we don’t have to be the man ourselves. We want a man that won’t spend 30 minutes just arranging his hair, that will be able to make a call in regards to where we will sit in the restaurant, etc. Yes, the old school gent that will stand and talk to you, call you, send you flowers, order for you in the restaurant, because he did his research before taking you out, and will not have a nervous breakdown when you are actually smart, beautiful, successful, and perfectly lovable and things could not go better between the two of you, which makes him make up a reason to simply disappear (a proper break up is a rare commodity too nowadays).

With all this I don’t want to imply I am looking for a macho, a player or my best gay friend to share my days, neither that most women are, but I would like just for a man that is less of a woman than I am most of the time anyways, and that has the balls to keep up with me. Think about it, if you are an adult woman, you are not nostalgic about Freddie Prince Junior (as sweet and dreamy as he is on “She is all that”) neither do you fantasize about sleeping with Will Truman (a woman’s best gay friend in modern days interpreted by Eric McCormack in “Will and Grace”). You will be nostalgic for men like Clark Gable, Humprey Bogart and Paul Henreid.

If women today do like equality and democracy in our relationships, in a world in which women are making decisions all day and every day, “wearing the pants” more and more often, sometimes we would like our men to actually take charge and make decisions instead of sitting and wait for us to court them leaving us wondering where is the line between taking the initiative with men and being sluts (these days, very often a girl feels she almost has to jump on top of a man for him to get she is interested in him and sees herself in quite a rough interesting paradox of pride and self respect vs. being equal and going for what she wants). There are still double standards.

How did this all started? Oh yes… My flat mate packed ¼ of his two mid size suitcases for 6 days with cosmetic products. He argues he is only taking the things he needs the most: Face mask, moisturizer, anti age cream, that stuff for the pin palls, different sorts of after shave, shaving cream, shaving machine, gel, mousse, two different deodorants, two types of shampoo, conditioner, three towels on different sizes and God knows what else. I may as well mention he is attending an Engineers congress; he is not in the show business or the arts which would be an antiquate assumption. Truth to be told, like male vanity products and herpes, metrosexuals are pretty much everywhere.

Unfair unfair world

The first man of my life

I was not even counting my first boyfriend as a boyfriend. I mean, we were 12, we met at summer camp, he was the brother of an awful snobbish b!tch in my class and people teased us one too many times, because he was choosing me on his team or because he sat with me at lunch. Those fights with my mom to let me go ice skating with him at 5 pm!

The summer came to an end and that was it. The following year we took English classes together, but he was always talking to his friend, and I was avoiding being the target of more mockery.

Oh! I can tell you I used to think not only that he was gorgeous, but that he was also cool, smart and the best basketball player in the world. I would get a stomachache every day of the class when I knew he was about to arrive. But there was never more than “Hi!” that was answered by a “Hi!”

Well… if there is the dude that gave you your first kiss, and the dude that you lost your virginity to, this is the dude that I first held hands with.

This story is about 15 years old, if not older. After the English course was over, we never met again. Probably we did, he surely attended his sister’s graduation, but by then everything had changed. His sister didn’t change much, neither her friends, but by the end of high school, I wasn’t shy, I couldn’t bother what those snobs would say, I actually knew men to who I was not related (if you went to a girls’ school you know this is definitely a huge popularity point) and at prom… I had the most handsome guy with me, so I had become too cool (at least inside my head) to notice them. Three weeks after graduation I moved to the US and haven’t lived in my country since.

Friend Request

But oh my… modern miracles… a Facebook friendship request. First I was surprised m first boyfriend remembered me after 15 years, second that he added me. His sister and I finally got in touch after eight years of in communication after finally growing up few months ago, so what were the chances? Of course I accepted.

I was excited to chat with him. I can tell you, seeing him a single grown man, a graduated doctor, pictures… and he mentioned I looked really hot as a grown up and envied my travel. And what could I say, there were never hard feelings, he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend (typical early teens) and he also came to my face to break up at the end of the summer (very rare also to have a break up with grown men these days).

Give me a plane like NOW!

For you to understand the gravity of the situation, your favorite blogger here, has not got absolutely any for a bit more than a month now. Yes, Drummer and his freaking dramas (who I have to deal with still because we have the same group of friends)… all and all a girl has her needs and well…. You know the story. I am about to run and fuck a … anything fuckable. I am even thinking of Barman and that one very crazy night…

So imagine this first boyfriend of mine, who is nothing but a single and attractive doctor, is online, telling me it would be great to meet once again, that he would love to come to Europe, that I am hot and yatayatayata. If there was any justice in this world a plane ticket would have materialized in my hands to do what I have to do with my first boyfriend the Doctor on the other side of the world, but we all know, this world is not fair.

Tomorrow going out with Hip Hop guy… hopefully I wont hump him.

Your brain is so hot

Smart is the new sexy

It is said that in the era of knowledge, brain is the muscle that rules all as real muscle was what attracted women in earlier times. If I do not agree 100% with the new assumption because let’s accept that a handsome man will make us turn our head and do a stupid thing or two, but there is just something captivating about a really smart man, specially if let’s say he also has the ability of conveying other people’s attention. In a group of smart and educated people, what in earlier days would have been a fist fight, is now an intellectual discussion, full of intellectual slap and when a man is good looking and has the power to intellectual slap anyone while everyone is watching it is… pretty damn sexy. This is why I have always felt attracted to the King.

As I was going around the net and watching telly (in a very conscious effort not to see if you know who is online, or has an update on myspace or facebook or whatever) I bumped into an old friend’s blog. This übersmart man was ondering about religion and the statement of being religion or not or just being spiritual in depth. The comment to this post belonged to the King, who wrote:

A beautiful explication of a series of big philosophical questions. I might spread my reply over a number of posts if you allow me the liberty. First, on Dawkins and later I will join you in tackling the metaphysics.

I wholeheartedly agree with you on most of the points in this first section. Voltaire said,
“Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.”
Religious absurdities have lead to countless “holy” wars and secular absurdities have lead to spiritual repression (i.e. Buddhists in China during the “cultural revolution”). However, I think it is unfair to equate Dawkins with fundamentalist religious leaders. His absurdities are more of omission (failing to mention the mystical traditions for example), rather the horrendously tortured reason, or often, complete failure of critical thinking, that we see in the many cases of institutionalised religion.

In my perspective Dawkins’ failure is in his lack of understanding of the real roots of religion. I believe, that religion is based around the heightened experiences of consciousness (that we often describe as “spiritual”), that we all undergo at some points in our lives, and some people seek out and/or experience more deeply then others. The great examples of these we call the mystics- and around these rare individuals, we sew layers of mythology. From this need to explain these higher human experience, religion fulfils a second need- a broader need for meaning, and an even broader need for ethical direction and often rule of law. I assume we are not far apart on this second point. On the first we may disagree on the extent of Dawkins’ failure, but I’m sure we would agree that what really matters is the extent to which we allow honest and critical enquiry, recognise and challenge our assumptions and move towards an ever nearer approximation of the True.

“All truth is one. In this light may science and religion endeavour here for the steady evolution of mankind from darkness to light from narrowness to broadmindedness from prejudice to tolerance. It is the voice of life which calls us to come and learn”.- Clifford Stoll, reading the inscription on the Hay’s Bell tower at the University of Arizona

May it be so.

You see my point? He is absolutely astonishing. He is ridiculously smart, educated and look at the use of those words! If he was just not a jerk to women I wouldn’t be able to stay off him!