[almost] found my perfect man. I said: almost Monday, 9 June, 2008

Ah, does the title intrigue you? Well, it should do. It’s all to do with a dinner I went last saturday. Nothing special about that. The dinner was organized by a social club I recently joined. I turned up at the restaurant at 7.30pm on the dot, as agreed. Only to walk in and find that all by one of the diners had already taken position at the table, chosen the menu’ and ordered the drinks. I was received with a sniffy expression of ‘oh, she has finally arrived!’. I looked around and for a moment I thought I got it all wrong. In fact, that was the restaurant, those were the people and I did get it spectacularly wrong in deciding to join in that particular meal. The problems? Apart from the fact that the restaurant resembled a stage set 1980’s style (gerish colours, outdated furniture, you get the drift), the other diners were, well, a bit old…I am not a spring chicken at 39, but I mean, the others were in their 60s, 70s and yes - wait for it - 80s! I am NOT kidding you. I don’t normally discriminate on the ground of age, but you see, I was expecting a younger age group. That’s not all. Having arrived almost last, the only seat left for me to take was opposite the older member of the gang, a retired professor, aged 83 and counting. I sat down thinking: do I leave now or do I give this man a chance and see what happens? Since these days I am challenging myself with new things, I decided to stay. What a good decision that was, too. Apart from all other diners (two women were yawning the all time, I swear), the old professor proved to be one of the most intelligent individual I have ever met. And so we spent an entire evening chatting and giggling and cracking jokes. We spent hours telling each others stories about our travels, funny anedoctes, foreign languages (he speaks a few of those, like me); I must admit I was taken back by the fact that the evening flew by. The others were left commenting and wondering what we had to say to each other and more importantly, what was oh-so-funny! Needless to say, there wasn’t any clubbing afterwards; everyone went home at 11.00. But I must say, I found myself sitting on a bus going home and giggling at some of the jokes me and The Professor had made over dinner. Will I see him again? I don’t think so. I don’t think I am his type Was he my perfect man? Well, 50 years ago, my dear, quite possibly. Today? Noaaa. Somehow I think that’s a pity.

up, up but not away Thursday, 29 May, 2008

Thursday. Better than Wednesday. Much better. I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have to accept he is not interested after all and move on. Life is there for the taking. I can’t spend my time wondering what might have happened. It’s important what did happen, I messed up, end of story. You live and learn. One day I’ll learn (maybe). A friend said my standards are too high, I replied maybe they are too low, hence the problem! Who knows. I just don’t like to be treated like ’someone else.’ Not vanity, far from it. I would have liked to be special for this person, but didn’t happen. So be it. If he didn’t see me as special, what can I do. Except for thinking positive, looking forward and see what’s around the corner. Bring on the weekend.En bicicleta by La Buena Vida

I’ll call you, maybe Wednesday, 28 May, 2008

Ah right, mid-week. Having spent the past two days sulking over a non-deserving guy, today I am back to almost my usual-self. That it’s not to say I am 100% back but I am getting there. Can’t deny that my thoughts are still up there, flying over my head…I have come to the conclusion that nobody deserves all this attention. How is that for a pick-me-up. Worked all morning, catching up with emails, sending out contracts and pushing thoughts out of my skull. Now I am ready to go to the gym. Haven’t been for more than 24hrs and it’s not right, just not right. Just one question to the guys out there: why the hell do you always promise to keep in touch when you know from the start that you are not going to? Isn’t easier to say that actually you’ll never call, that you could keep in touch from time to time if you have a spare moment and that’s it? I mean, that is actually it? You know the line you use: ‘it’s complicated’ really doesn’t wash with me, I am sorry. I read this as ‘I am with another woman but I am so coward, I don’t want to tell you.’ It’s OK to be honest, you know. If I am wrong, I am wrong, just tell me. Ah, you see. I need to go to the gym and get rid of all frustrations. Clearly I am not 100% yet. Maybe it’s a full moon, is there a full moon, I don’t know. Bear with me on this one, please. It’s just a phase. I hope it won’t last that long. You know what I miss the most? The good laughs. This is totally ridiculous. As if you could base anything on a good laugh alone. Right, stopping right here right now and going to the gym before I write more stupid thoughts.

Cinderella, your carriage is not here Sunday, 4 May, 2008

Et voila’. Sunday. Gym, supermarket then home. Cleaning. “One” was not born for these mundane jobs. So there I was, playing Cinderella.

Only a few things missing:

a) where are the ugly sisters?

b) no sign of a witch, good or bad

c) no pumpkin

d) as for Prince Charming, please, let’s not go there…

e) I haven’t lost a shoe (is this a bad omen, you think?).

All I get is the cleaning bit? Unfair to say the least. We girls build up hopes on this all our life and look what happens? I am left with two loads of a washing machine, a duster and soap? Mind you, lots of things you can do with a duster, but let’s not digress. Focus-focus-focus please. A fairytale is at stake here. How can we redeem Cinderella’s reputation of a good fairytale? Let’s see. Ugly sisters could be around, they are just not around while I am writing this (tick one, done). A witch: ohhh, believe me, if I dig into life I bet I can find more than one of those (tick two, done). Hmm, pumpkin…tricky. Ah-ah. A trip to a local supermarket will solve it (tick three, done). Prince Charming, oh dear, I’ve stumbled across a dead horse. Now what. OK, let’s park this for a moment. Losing a shoe, well, that’s pretty easy. A night in town will provide a suitable moment (tick five, done). Well, see, that wasn’t difficult, was it. Who says fairytales are fantasy? They could be real, if we wanted to.

PS: I know what you are thinking (Prince Charming). No, I haven’t forgotten him, I am just grabbing the Yellow Pages; need to look under ‘Male Escorts’ and see what’s available these days.