DAY SEVEN
The Scottish celebrate this day as the day that some dude tried to blow up the parliament buildings after King James and Queen Elizabeth signed the treaty that essentially secured his right to the throne of England. I think Guy Fawkes was hanged and he failed in his plot. So on this day they light fireworks and burn a stuffed dummy on a tree. There are fireworks being held down by the water with a celebration and such, but for some reason I just want to sit here and read a book and drink my tea.
I think it is because I am coming to grips with the fact that my month without men may well be my life without men. Let’s face it – although I am talking a big game about being able to stand on my own - I am still getting up every morning and visualizing myself in a relationship. I can’t walk away from the possibility completely because then what if it really doesn’t happen? Then, when I admit that a relationship is really what I want I get down on myself for not being able to find one. So I don’t want to go to the fireworks because I know I won’t meet a man there anyway.
I went shopping today and had a good time until I got sick of it. Actually the shopping is really not that great – which is kind of a good thing, Although I did find a pair of boots I really want that they did not have in my size (sort of like Junior – what I want on paper, but doesn’t quite fit right). Actually it is a strange side note that I will go on to covet these boots for months and months to come and to visit every Diesel store in four countries trying to find the right fit.
Looking for some Scottish culture I went to a place called O’Conner’s and had some fish and chips and a pint. I sat beside a table with two Italian men at it - hoping that, being foreigners, they would hear my accent and start talking to me. I started out by making eye contact and smiling (my new thing), well, actually I started out by checking for wedding rings. Then I made a call to Harim on my cell phone and spoke loudly enough for all around me to hear (how obnoxious and pathetic). They weren’t rude, but didn’t really seem to care that I was there. They left soon after. Two cute men sat down at the table behind me and I thought – this is it, my soul mate has found me! The one guy was kind of cute and spoke ‘posh’ which meant he had a well educated back ground, but he said fuck like every fourth word and all he talked about was soccer. We made eye contact a couple of times and when I got up to leave he looked at me like I was crazy so we were dead in the water. I think that look may have had something to do with the fact that I let a beggar sit with me and finish my food and then asked him if he wanted to go grocery shopping.
The gangly looking beggar – Mark was his name – (Mark and Mandy, as in Mork and Mindy, he said) – had just been released from prison for stabbing a pedophile. Likely story, but I didn’t press him. I asked him if he had any dreams. He said when he was in prison he dreamed a lot and tried to be somewhere else. He said he tried Yoga to get away from his cell mate.
It was an interesting experience taking him grocery shopping. There were certainly things that he wanted to buy – mostly frozen food. I made him buy grapes and bananas. He kept getting over whelmed and saying things like – I feel so humbled, and I don’t want you to buy all this for me cause you are a girl and I’m a guy and this is not the way it is supposed to go. That was a bit of an ah ha moment for me. I guess men don’t like me because they want a girl they can take care of to a certain extent? Ya that’s the reason – hallelujah – all I have to do is be needy! Why didn’t I think of that before?
He told me I was crazy.
I laughed and felt warm and fuzzy. How profound! A pedophile stabbing, gangly beggar telling me I was crazy? I was starting to feel like this might be a divine interaction that would have a profound effect on both of our lives, and that I would see him on Oprah some day talking about the kind Canadian woman who bought him groceries and encouraged him to finally write his screenplay (and of course the main character is based on me) at which point Oprah brings me out to meet him (I am also a celebrity by then and Oprah and I are good friends). . . But then he tried to sidle up to me at the meat counter and I snapped back to reality. As much as I needed the company I sent him on his way after we left the store. He asked for a big hug and I gave it to him. I actually really needed the hug.
I have a dear friend with whom I usually stay when I am in London. The last time I was there I overhear him on the phone with his father telling him a story about his great friend who is some sort of computer programmer and who makes a lot of money. He had moved to some new city and taken his girlfriend with him and she was not working but staying at home. He came home one day “knackered” and said to her – After years of working towards this point in my life I am finally doing quite well for myself. I can afford to replace something that is not working. Like the toaster, for example, it is not working and will be replaced. It will soon be time for me to replace all the things in my life that aren’t working.
I was thinking what an asshole Julian sounded like praising his friend for saying that without even considering there was another side to that story. Clearly she left her home to be somewhere with him, and assumedly, her job. I’m sure he felt all warm and cozy about the idea of supporting her until one day he decided he no longer wanted to, but he had created a monster. So deep down I don't really believe that men want women who are dependant on them. They feel like it will give them power at first because her life will be all about his, but then, the reality of her becoming dominant in the home sets in, and he does not like it one bit. Many times the man does not understand or appreciate what the woman is doing for him by creating a home to hold him up and catch him when he falls. . . but I digress.
Besides the fact that I am clearly obsessing over men I had a couple of actual slips today too. I texted Junior to see if he got my last text. He said “the one about you accomplishing a lot? Yes, I am back at work now, how are you doing?” I can’t believe I was going to buy that guy a tie in Sweden. I didn’t even respond. I give up. If there is no sex then there is nothing for me with him.
My other slip was inviting my client Karen to bring her husband’s brother to my party on Friday night (did I mention I am having a little party on Friday night?) He was in the army and he is 37 now. I can’t see myself being with a guy who was in the army. It is so strange how I have this total idea of the man I want to be with, yet I don’t meet any men like him ever. I don’t seem to run in those circles – I run in frequent flier circles.
Is the universe punishing me for something?
Or I could look at it this way. So many people look at my life and think I am so blessed. I get to travel around the world and meet interesting people and learn about them and how things and people work and so many people do not even leave home!!! And I am sitting here bitching that I don’t have a man??? What the hell is my problem!??? I am in the Jet-set. I am a jet-setter! (Ok so I may be a part of the easy-jet set, but it doesn't matter what is written on the side of the 'jet'!)
That is enough obsessing for one night. I am going to go and read my book now.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Ode to My Vibrator
DAY SIX
My first night in Scotland and I was roused at 3 AM by a couple fighting. It has been a while since I have had a relationship and I had forgotten what it felt like to have a lover's quarrel. I had a moment where I thought maybe it is better to be alone then having to deal with that shit. I couldn’t understand their drunken Scottish accents, but remembered the tone and passion in their voices. The fighting didn’t end with sex, or if it did it was quiet sex - but it was definitely a lover’s quarrel.
I concluded that my next relationship wouldn’t be like that. I have spent time alone finding myself, therefore I am way to conscious to have a frustrating relationship now! I am so aware - especially when I’m drunk? I am kidding myself.
I had a sex dream last night. I was walking through the mall with a vibrator in my pants and no one knew. Great sex dream eh? It has been a long time since I masturbated, but come on – really? It isn’t the first time I have dreamt about my vibrator, but it is kind of a sad day when I no longer have any sexual fantasies worth having. The last couple of times I have masturbated it hasn’t even been that great because it takes me forever to concentrate on it. Perhaps I just need more practice.
When I was a performance poet my vibrator and I got a lot of action. I wrote a poem to it:
Ode to My Vibrator
I love the way you make me feel
over and over again
your length, your width, that soft smooth appeal
over and over again
Light or dark, day or night
you're always hard
and ready to un-tighten me
You may not get me water
but that's ok
you don't care if I pass out half way
or call you several different names
No need to speak
I can just close my eyes
no performance anxiety
or time wasted kissing my thighs
just go for the good stuff
you're in and you're out
even when I just lay there
you still jump about
so far our relationship has been ideal
no feelings, no jealousy
just erotic appeal
I wonder; is it healthy for me to not want that real feeling?
I'll answer that question the next time a man
makes me feel as good as my
plastic friend
over and over and over and over and over and over
again.
I don't travel with a vibrator. Maybe that is what my dream was trying to tell me! I wish it was here now. . . my toothbrush is starting to look like a viable option. . . oh, what the hell. It wouldn’t be the first time I have used a toiletry item in Europe to get off. The last time involved a Turkish guy in Stockholm who I invited back to my hotel room to have sex. He didn't speak any English (it is better this way). We met in a store while I was shopping. He offered to follow me around and carry my bags for me. He was very good looking, chissled features, 6 feet plus - he told me that he was a model in Milan (either that or he shoveld pigs in a meat freezer). I was feeling pretty wild. It was a stop over and there was no one who knew me there so I decided I would be bold and bring him home. Alas, when we got back to my room he took off his coat and had really bad B.O. - so I made him leave, rented a porno, and got cozy with the back end of my razor.
I even used my finger once in Finland. I was surprised it worked. I had never used such un-technical equipment before. Sort of like using a pencil instead of a computer to write a story.
Well . . . it's been nice chatting, but I have to go get off now.
My first night in Scotland and I was roused at 3 AM by a couple fighting. It has been a while since I have had a relationship and I had forgotten what it felt like to have a lover's quarrel. I had a moment where I thought maybe it is better to be alone then having to deal with that shit. I couldn’t understand their drunken Scottish accents, but remembered the tone and passion in their voices. The fighting didn’t end with sex, or if it did it was quiet sex - but it was definitely a lover’s quarrel.
I concluded that my next relationship wouldn’t be like that. I have spent time alone finding myself, therefore I am way to conscious to have a frustrating relationship now! I am so aware - especially when I’m drunk? I am kidding myself.
I had a sex dream last night. I was walking through the mall with a vibrator in my pants and no one knew. Great sex dream eh? It has been a long time since I masturbated, but come on – really? It isn’t the first time I have dreamt about my vibrator, but it is kind of a sad day when I no longer have any sexual fantasies worth having. The last couple of times I have masturbated it hasn’t even been that great because it takes me forever to concentrate on it. Perhaps I just need more practice.
When I was a performance poet my vibrator and I got a lot of action. I wrote a poem to it:
Ode to My Vibrator
I love the way you make me feel
over and over again
your length, your width, that soft smooth appeal
over and over again
Light or dark, day or night
you're always hard
and ready to un-tighten me
You may not get me water
but that's ok
you don't care if I pass out half way
or call you several different names
No need to speak
I can just close my eyes
no performance anxiety
or time wasted kissing my thighs
just go for the good stuff
you're in and you're out
even when I just lay there
you still jump about
so far our relationship has been ideal
no feelings, no jealousy
just erotic appeal
I wonder; is it healthy for me to not want that real feeling?
I'll answer that question the next time a man
makes me feel as good as my
plastic friend
over and over and over and over and over and over
again.
I don't travel with a vibrator. Maybe that is what my dream was trying to tell me! I wish it was here now. . . my toothbrush is starting to look like a viable option. . . oh, what the hell. It wouldn’t be the first time I have used a toiletry item in Europe to get off. The last time involved a Turkish guy in Stockholm who I invited back to my hotel room to have sex. He didn't speak any English (it is better this way). We met in a store while I was shopping. He offered to follow me around and carry my bags for me. He was very good looking, chissled features, 6 feet plus - he told me that he was a model in Milan (either that or he shoveld pigs in a meat freezer). I was feeling pretty wild. It was a stop over and there was no one who knew me there so I decided I would be bold and bring him home. Alas, when we got back to my room he took off his coat and had really bad B.O. - so I made him leave, rented a porno, and got cozy with the back end of my razor.
I even used my finger once in Finland. I was surprised it worked. I had never used such un-technical equipment before. Sort of like using a pencil instead of a computer to write a story.
Well . . . it's been nice chatting, but I have to go get off now.
No Cheese Please
DAY FIVE
Sweden is not the place to try to abstain from man obsessions. They are very attractive as a rule and dress much better than the men in any country I have ever been. Yet they don't get the international reputation they deserve. Italy had better watch out - there is no cheese in Sweden; just taste and class. Except for my unfortunate task of being where the 'love' is I have managed to stay mainly in my room. I had a lovely romantic dinner with myself and several couples. No one was canoodling. It seems like the more expensive the place the less interested the couples are in each other - unless there is a 30 or 40 year age gap. God I wish there were someone here with me.
Junior texted me from Florida and told me he missed me. I messaged him back and told him to come over to Sweden and he didn’t respond. Either he didn’t get my message or he is playing his usual games. I can’t be bothered to find out which one it is. I am also starting to forget how good the sex was. Is this my defense mechanism? Another way to push men out of my life?
Tomorrow I will go to Scotland. Luckily the Scottish men aren’t all that much to look at.
Sweden is not the place to try to abstain from man obsessions. They are very attractive as a rule and dress much better than the men in any country I have ever been. Yet they don't get the international reputation they deserve. Italy had better watch out - there is no cheese in Sweden; just taste and class. Except for my unfortunate task of being where the 'love' is I have managed to stay mainly in my room. I had a lovely romantic dinner with myself and several couples. No one was canoodling. It seems like the more expensive the place the less interested the couples are in each other - unless there is a 30 or 40 year age gap. God I wish there were someone here with me.
Junior texted me from Florida and told me he missed me. I messaged him back and told him to come over to Sweden and he didn’t respond. Either he didn’t get my message or he is playing his usual games. I can’t be bothered to find out which one it is. I am also starting to forget how good the sex was. Is this my defense mechanism? Another way to push men out of my life?
Tomorrow I will go to Scotland. Luckily the Scottish men aren’t all that much to look at.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The Bounds of My Frustration
DAY FOUR
When I woke up this morning I felt frustrated with my life. So anxious for change and feeling the need to do something physical to let go of my old patterns and ways of thinking. Considering going for a run. It is so dark outside and I don’t really know where I am. I wonder why it is that I have gone for so long without meeting anyone that I am into and that is into me.
Frustrated with my financial state. It is pretty good, but still not enough. This is what I keep saying to myself and it keeps staying like that. When am I going to finish telling myself that everything is not enough? I think this is the root of all of my problems. Every time money comes in I say in the back of my mind that it is not enough. Every time I meet someone I find some reason to say he is not enough. My parents never give me enough love, I never have enough food, I never have enough business, I never have enough popularity, I never have enough stuff, my relationship with God is not good enough.
That is what I will release. Men are enough – they are wonderful and are just trying to work out their shit the same way I am. They are trying to improve themselves. They are afraid of making mistakes. They are scared, and sad, and lonely. They celebrate their friendships and their families. They bring joy to the lives of others, they support their spouses.
I keep thinking that it is important to me to have someone in the same socio-economic background as I am/will be in. I am focusing so much energy on this man-hole again. I need to stop and smell the men. Just relax and enjoy them for once.
I went out for dinner tonight in a small town outside the arctic and I was once again filled with the eye feast that is Sweden. Beautiful men everywhere making eye contact. I always look away, but at least now I can use my month without men as an excuse. Before I used to look away because I wanted to be admired, and chased. That is actually not working at all. I think when I was younger I had a different method. Since I was usually at a club I would search the room for the one I wanted to meet and then go and dance beside him, pretending not to notice him, until he noticed me and came over. Perhaps part of my problem now is that I am not the most desirable woman in the room anymore so I need to devise new tactics. This is what women talk about when they tell you not to rely on your looks. One day it will become ineffective.
I just checked my email and saw that I have winks from one of the dating websites I am on – it took all the willpower I had not to check them. I do not need external validation. I do not need external validation. I do not need external validation.
I’ll go on facebook so I can be with my real friends instead. I decided to un-friend Kelly and Ryan (my ex-babysitter and my ex-boyfriend) who recently married. I could not stand any more photos. Kelly somehow noticed and tried to re-add me as a friend. I told her no-offence, and I wished her all the best, but I just can’t keep seeing this shit on my newsfeed.
When I woke up this morning I felt frustrated with my life. So anxious for change and feeling the need to do something physical to let go of my old patterns and ways of thinking. Considering going for a run. It is so dark outside and I don’t really know where I am. I wonder why it is that I have gone for so long without meeting anyone that I am into and that is into me.
Frustrated with my financial state. It is pretty good, but still not enough. This is what I keep saying to myself and it keeps staying like that. When am I going to finish telling myself that everything is not enough? I think this is the root of all of my problems. Every time money comes in I say in the back of my mind that it is not enough. Every time I meet someone I find some reason to say he is not enough. My parents never give me enough love, I never have enough food, I never have enough business, I never have enough popularity, I never have enough stuff, my relationship with God is not good enough.
That is what I will release. Men are enough – they are wonderful and are just trying to work out their shit the same way I am. They are trying to improve themselves. They are afraid of making mistakes. They are scared, and sad, and lonely. They celebrate their friendships and their families. They bring joy to the lives of others, they support their spouses.
I keep thinking that it is important to me to have someone in the same socio-economic background as I am/will be in. I am focusing so much energy on this man-hole again. I need to stop and smell the men. Just relax and enjoy them for once.
I went out for dinner tonight in a small town outside the arctic and I was once again filled with the eye feast that is Sweden. Beautiful men everywhere making eye contact. I always look away, but at least now I can use my month without men as an excuse. Before I used to look away because I wanted to be admired, and chased. That is actually not working at all. I think when I was younger I had a different method. Since I was usually at a club I would search the room for the one I wanted to meet and then go and dance beside him, pretending not to notice him, until he noticed me and came over. Perhaps part of my problem now is that I am not the most desirable woman in the room anymore so I need to devise new tactics. This is what women talk about when they tell you not to rely on your looks. One day it will become ineffective.
I just checked my email and saw that I have winks from one of the dating websites I am on – it took all the willpower I had not to check them. I do not need external validation. I do not need external validation. I do not need external validation.
I’ll go on facebook so I can be with my real friends instead. I decided to un-friend Kelly and Ryan (my ex-babysitter and my ex-boyfriend) who recently married. I could not stand any more photos. Kelly somehow noticed and tried to re-add me as a friend. I told her no-offence, and I wished her all the best, but I just can’t keep seeing this shit on my newsfeed.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Jet Lag Insomnia
DAY THREE
I woke up this morning (or in the middle of the night – depending on what time zone you are in) after having a very strange, but very telling dream. In it, my mother was at my house unexpectedly, but gladly because she was taking care of all the kids and dogs who were there running around. I was in the bedroom with my Dad, my friend Andrea’s drunken, passed out boyfriend, my friend Kristin's boyfriend, and several other men. Andrea's boyfriend would wake up every once and a while and try unsuccessfully to suck on my breasts, Kristin’s boyfriend climbed on top of me and tried to have sex with me while all the other guys waited for their turn, but he couldn’t – presumably because of Kristin (I stroked his back and tried to make him feel comfortable even though I didn’t want to have sex with him). Then when he left there was this other guy who is pretty creepy who tried, but I didn’t want to. The cute guys who didn’t have girlfriends were waiting around to see what everyone else did. So when Krisitn’s boyfriend left I said, ok who’s next? And just so you know no one is getting in there without a condom. It was really sad.
At one point I said – I am trying to stay away from men and now I have ended up with the four best looking ones in my bed.
My Dad left before all that happened. He was this silhouette in the distance playing with his dog. He kept getting more and more puppies to take care of.
Then I was in my house and the guy upstairs who was mad at me for making noise in my own house was taking out the garbage and swearing at my Mom who had already had a run in with him. Then Junior and another friend named Carlie showed up together. He flopped himself on the stairs (like a puppy) and stuck his head in the door. I invited him in but he still didn’t come and touch me like I wanted him to. I wondered why he and Carlie were together in the first place.
I often have wild dreams when I am interrupted while sleeping. In real life I got a text message from Junior asking if I had a nice flight. I am debating whether or not to answer him. I still don’t know what the point of all of this is. I suppose it is for me to stop spending my energy obsessing over finding a man. My question is: is it ok for me to still want to sleep with them? I think my dream was telling me that I don’t want to use men. That even though I may feel lucky to have all these gorgeous guys I can sleep with, that under it all I am putting on an act and that my friends are lucky to have guys that want more than sex from them.
At various points in my life I have chosen to give pieces of myself away to men. In fact for years I did it on a weekly basis. I had sex with men I didn’t even like just because I could make myself feel horny enough to do it. Then I could turn that into a wish that he would take care of me financially. It never worked out. I did whatever I could to do that while being different in their eyes. The worst thing in the world for me would be to be like every other woman. It is occurring to me at this moment that every other woman gets married.
I know why I do this, and it is also the reason why my father was in the dream. I was embarrassed for him to see me surrounded by men and having them taking turns having a go at me. I wanted him to do something about it. I wanted more than anything for one of them to care and to stop me from hurting myself, but I knew it wouldn’t happen because I was too capable. My Dad has always let me do my own thing. He let my boyfriends stay over in my bed when I was 15 years old. Did he hear us having sex? No wonder I have boundary issues.
I do this because my dad was very critical of women and did not respect them. I feel I have to play a certain role around them for them to like me. That role became very clear in the dream I had last night. I am a sexual place where men come to work out their shit and feel nurtured. The problem with this is the lack of reciprocation. I don’t ask to be nurtured, I don’t complain, I give them all the freedom they want so I can have all the freedom I want, but end up alone. Children need discipline and boundaries, so do my friends, so do I, so do men.
I got another text message from a guy I have asked to stop pursuing me several times. He asked me what I am up to this week end. I told him I am in Europe. He is one of the people who have said to me: how can you expect to have a relationship when you travel all the time? I guess it is harder when you aren’t home, but doesn’t it get hard once the relationship starts?
By the way – I recognize the irony of the fact that writing this blog about not obsessing about men is actually another form of obsessing about them.
So I am wondering if I should text Junior back. Part of me wants to make him sweat it out for all of the times he has made me wait for a response. I am 98% sure I don’t want to be with him anyway.
Andrea called me to see if I made it ok. She said someone should know if I am alive. She and I have always done this for each other. We are both so independent that no one bothers to check up on us – especially not our parents. We both recognize that we have a need for that every once and a while.
Maybe Junior's message to me was his caring if I made it here or not! I texted him back. How much can you overlook in a person in order to have someone who texts or calls you to see if you made it ok. And why do I put more stock in his doing it than in Andrea’s? She and I have been close for so long that we are family now.
I am feeling a bit sorry for myself today. I went on facebook to update my status and saw that Kelly – my old babysitter and protegee – had posted some of her wedding photos. Normally I am very happy for people who get married, but she married my ex boyfriend of 8 years. He looks like hell – fat and bald, and my Mom keeps telling me I dogged a bullet, but it is hard to see them all smiling and laughing. As much as I want to feel sorry for myself I fully acknowledge that I wouldn’t have wanted their life. It was a tacky wedding – Kelly looked beautiful but predictable, strapless dress, up-do, crown – and they looked like they were playing dress up. They really are perfect for each other and I am sure they will have a perfect life together. Ryan and I would never have been happy in that way.
Junior just texted me back. Telling me how much money he has spent.
That is another thing that I may be a little fucked up over. I feel like he is not good enough because he is not rich enough. I need a multi-millionaire so I can become one too.
I don’t understand relationships at all. Apparently, if you love someone, nothing else matters. But how do you get to that point. No one seems to be able to get past the foyer. The only ones I let in are the ones that I think are not a threat cause I would never be with them. Like Junior.
I feel like I am stuck in a sector of life that I just can’t seem to break out of. It is time for a change on so many levels and I feel frustrated. This blog is dangerously close to becoming verbal diarrhea – sorry about that.
I am sitting here in Sweden at 4:30 in the morning. Emails answered, bills paid, bored. So I am texting with Junior and thinking about going on dating websites. I think that would go against my month without men plan. While just texting him I thought of texting Brandon to tell him I am in Europe for a month – to let him know I am not pining away in Toronto for him while he travels the world. I am clearly having a re-lapse.
Mine and Junior’s text message conversation is about golf. I want it to be about us. I want him to tell me that he is sorry and thinks I am beautiful and fantastic and that he has issues with blah blah blah and can I save him? God I am dying to love someone. I am so sad. This isn’t working.
It doesn’t matter where I am. I can run to the most remote corner of the world and still feel like I have it all wrong. There will still be young couples holding hands and getting married, and what am I doing? I feel like I am not even succeeding at my business. How much longer can I dance on that tight-rope. God help me please.
My life is waiting for me when I get back to step right into it, but I don’t want to. On the surface it seems so great. I have a huge home that I have purchased as an investment that is making me money – or could be, if I would rent the basement out properly, but instead I keep letting people stay there for free – just keeping me inches away from prosperity. Why can’t I let myself have success. Why do I always jam things up when they are close to second.
Faith is playing on my computer. I didn’t hear it the first time so God played it again.
Well I need someone to hold me but I wait for somethin' more...
Cause I gotta have faith.
I just have to wait
Cause I gotta have faith
Now father figure is on.
I need something else to focus on.
Perhaps I will plan my day tomorrow. I need to research the top ten reasons why the Swedish Arctic is a private lover's paradise. Awesome.
I woke up this morning (or in the middle of the night – depending on what time zone you are in) after having a very strange, but very telling dream. In it, my mother was at my house unexpectedly, but gladly because she was taking care of all the kids and dogs who were there running around. I was in the bedroom with my Dad, my friend Andrea’s drunken, passed out boyfriend, my friend Kristin's boyfriend, and several other men. Andrea's boyfriend would wake up every once and a while and try unsuccessfully to suck on my breasts, Kristin’s boyfriend climbed on top of me and tried to have sex with me while all the other guys waited for their turn, but he couldn’t – presumably because of Kristin (I stroked his back and tried to make him feel comfortable even though I didn’t want to have sex with him). Then when he left there was this other guy who is pretty creepy who tried, but I didn’t want to. The cute guys who didn’t have girlfriends were waiting around to see what everyone else did. So when Krisitn’s boyfriend left I said, ok who’s next? And just so you know no one is getting in there without a condom. It was really sad.
At one point I said – I am trying to stay away from men and now I have ended up with the four best looking ones in my bed.
My Dad left before all that happened. He was this silhouette in the distance playing with his dog. He kept getting more and more puppies to take care of.
Then I was in my house and the guy upstairs who was mad at me for making noise in my own house was taking out the garbage and swearing at my Mom who had already had a run in with him. Then Junior and another friend named Carlie showed up together. He flopped himself on the stairs (like a puppy) and stuck his head in the door. I invited him in but he still didn’t come and touch me like I wanted him to. I wondered why he and Carlie were together in the first place.
I often have wild dreams when I am interrupted while sleeping. In real life I got a text message from Junior asking if I had a nice flight. I am debating whether or not to answer him. I still don’t know what the point of all of this is. I suppose it is for me to stop spending my energy obsessing over finding a man. My question is: is it ok for me to still want to sleep with them? I think my dream was telling me that I don’t want to use men. That even though I may feel lucky to have all these gorgeous guys I can sleep with, that under it all I am putting on an act and that my friends are lucky to have guys that want more than sex from them.
At various points in my life I have chosen to give pieces of myself away to men. In fact for years I did it on a weekly basis. I had sex with men I didn’t even like just because I could make myself feel horny enough to do it. Then I could turn that into a wish that he would take care of me financially. It never worked out. I did whatever I could to do that while being different in their eyes. The worst thing in the world for me would be to be like every other woman. It is occurring to me at this moment that every other woman gets married.
I know why I do this, and it is also the reason why my father was in the dream. I was embarrassed for him to see me surrounded by men and having them taking turns having a go at me. I wanted him to do something about it. I wanted more than anything for one of them to care and to stop me from hurting myself, but I knew it wouldn’t happen because I was too capable. My Dad has always let me do my own thing. He let my boyfriends stay over in my bed when I was 15 years old. Did he hear us having sex? No wonder I have boundary issues.
I do this because my dad was very critical of women and did not respect them. I feel I have to play a certain role around them for them to like me. That role became very clear in the dream I had last night. I am a sexual place where men come to work out their shit and feel nurtured. The problem with this is the lack of reciprocation. I don’t ask to be nurtured, I don’t complain, I give them all the freedom they want so I can have all the freedom I want, but end up alone. Children need discipline and boundaries, so do my friends, so do I, so do men.
I got another text message from a guy I have asked to stop pursuing me several times. He asked me what I am up to this week end. I told him I am in Europe. He is one of the people who have said to me: how can you expect to have a relationship when you travel all the time? I guess it is harder when you aren’t home, but doesn’t it get hard once the relationship starts?
By the way – I recognize the irony of the fact that writing this blog about not obsessing about men is actually another form of obsessing about them.
So I am wondering if I should text Junior back. Part of me wants to make him sweat it out for all of the times he has made me wait for a response. I am 98% sure I don’t want to be with him anyway.
Andrea called me to see if I made it ok. She said someone should know if I am alive. She and I have always done this for each other. We are both so independent that no one bothers to check up on us – especially not our parents. We both recognize that we have a need for that every once and a while.
Maybe Junior's message to me was his caring if I made it here or not! I texted him back. How much can you overlook in a person in order to have someone who texts or calls you to see if you made it ok. And why do I put more stock in his doing it than in Andrea’s? She and I have been close for so long that we are family now.
I am feeling a bit sorry for myself today. I went on facebook to update my status and saw that Kelly – my old babysitter and protegee – had posted some of her wedding photos. Normally I am very happy for people who get married, but she married my ex boyfriend of 8 years. He looks like hell – fat and bald, and my Mom keeps telling me I dogged a bullet, but it is hard to see them all smiling and laughing. As much as I want to feel sorry for myself I fully acknowledge that I wouldn’t have wanted their life. It was a tacky wedding – Kelly looked beautiful but predictable, strapless dress, up-do, crown – and they looked like they were playing dress up. They really are perfect for each other and I am sure they will have a perfect life together. Ryan and I would never have been happy in that way.
Junior just texted me back. Telling me how much money he has spent.
That is another thing that I may be a little fucked up over. I feel like he is not good enough because he is not rich enough. I need a multi-millionaire so I can become one too.
I don’t understand relationships at all. Apparently, if you love someone, nothing else matters. But how do you get to that point. No one seems to be able to get past the foyer. The only ones I let in are the ones that I think are not a threat cause I would never be with them. Like Junior.
I feel like I am stuck in a sector of life that I just can’t seem to break out of. It is time for a change on so many levels and I feel frustrated. This blog is dangerously close to becoming verbal diarrhea – sorry about that.
I am sitting here in Sweden at 4:30 in the morning. Emails answered, bills paid, bored. So I am texting with Junior and thinking about going on dating websites. I think that would go against my month without men plan. While just texting him I thought of texting Brandon to tell him I am in Europe for a month – to let him know I am not pining away in Toronto for him while he travels the world. I am clearly having a re-lapse.
Mine and Junior’s text message conversation is about golf. I want it to be about us. I want him to tell me that he is sorry and thinks I am beautiful and fantastic and that he has issues with blah blah blah and can I save him? God I am dying to love someone. I am so sad. This isn’t working.
It doesn’t matter where I am. I can run to the most remote corner of the world and still feel like I have it all wrong. There will still be young couples holding hands and getting married, and what am I doing? I feel like I am not even succeeding at my business. How much longer can I dance on that tight-rope. God help me please.
My life is waiting for me when I get back to step right into it, but I don’t want to. On the surface it seems so great. I have a huge home that I have purchased as an investment that is making me money – or could be, if I would rent the basement out properly, but instead I keep letting people stay there for free – just keeping me inches away from prosperity. Why can’t I let myself have success. Why do I always jam things up when they are close to second.
Faith is playing on my computer. I didn’t hear it the first time so God played it again.
Well I need someone to hold me but I wait for somethin' more...
Cause I gotta have faith.
I just have to wait
Cause I gotta have faith
Now father figure is on.
I need something else to focus on.
Perhaps I will plan my day tomorrow. I need to research the top ten reasons why the Swedish Arctic is a private lover's paradise. Awesome.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Day Two
Standing in the check out line this morning I was particularly pleased with myself for having the correct luggage and being able to spread my stuff out in the proper way to win the ever raging luggage weight battle. I was also pleased that two different men - one in front of me in line and the other behind, separately asked me questions about where to line up. The man in front of me was very attractive – in his early forties. Once I answered both of their questions a silence fell over us. I had a question prepared for each man to continue our conversations, but I clearly had to make a choice. The second man was an older gentleman in his 60s wearing a nautical tie. Had I not been on my man sabbatical I would certainly have spoken to the potential husband to my right, smiled big and batted my eyelids. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of my commitment to shaking this constant state of desperation. I turned to my left and asked the older gentleman if he was wearing a nautical tie. That question engaged us in a very stimulating conversation about boating, traveling, and the current state of China. It was fulfilling and wonderful. The man to my right turned and had a conversation with an older woman on his left that he seemed to enjoy. I was ok with that . . . maybe I can do this.
Sensing that I was on my way to mastery the Universe quickly threw in a trick play. On my second flight I was accompanied by one of the Swedish men’s hockey teams. Directly across from me sat a cute Canadian who was over here playing with them. Turns out we both went to the same University at the same time.
He seemed a little uncomfortable, guarded, and twirled his wedding ring around his finger so I could see it. We chatted for a bit and I decided to put his mind at ease by asking about his wife and where she was from. He relaxed a little. The cynic in me says he did this in order to stop himself from flirting, or to stop others from seeing him as flirting. If he were really confident in his self and his marriage he wouldn't be afraid of a harmless conversation. I think he is a cheater.
I am so much more comfortable making a man think I am not interested than in making him think that I am. An ex boyfriend of mine accused me of making every man think I was in love with him. I am sure I did do that – only because I wanted every man to be in love with me, and I can turn it on easily with both men and women. That was so long ago now - back when I was young and fearless!
My fear of rejection is much stronger now than my desire for everyone to love me – if that makes any sense – so I choose to push people away. I have met many men who trod heavily on the softness of a woman’s exposed heart, and I have chosen to let it heal under the dark cover of heavy armor.
Actually, now that I think about it, I send the complete wrong signals to men. Those who I want to like me I completely ignore and wait for them to come up and tell me they are overcome with passion and must know my name (very realistic I know), and those I don't give a rat's ass about I am happy and laughing and totally enjoying their attention. And I get pissed off when men do this with me! This is often how I end up in relationships with men who I should have just been friends with. I send the wrong signals, but like the attention, and end up falling for the guy.
Only one day and already I have figured out all of my issues. I must be ready for some male interaction then!
Standing in the check out line this morning I was particularly pleased with myself for having the correct luggage and being able to spread my stuff out in the proper way to win the ever raging luggage weight battle. I was also pleased that two different men - one in front of me in line and the other behind, separately asked me questions about where to line up. The man in front of me was very attractive – in his early forties. Once I answered both of their questions a silence fell over us. I had a question prepared for each man to continue our conversations, but I clearly had to make a choice. The second man was an older gentleman in his 60s wearing a nautical tie. Had I not been on my man sabbatical I would certainly have spoken to the potential husband to my right, smiled big and batted my eyelids. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of my commitment to shaking this constant state of desperation. I turned to my left and asked the older gentleman if he was wearing a nautical tie. That question engaged us in a very stimulating conversation about boating, traveling, and the current state of China. It was fulfilling and wonderful. The man to my right turned and had a conversation with an older woman on his left that he seemed to enjoy. I was ok with that . . . maybe I can do this.
Sensing that I was on my way to mastery the Universe quickly threw in a trick play. On my second flight I was accompanied by one of the Swedish men’s hockey teams. Directly across from me sat a cute Canadian who was over here playing with them. Turns out we both went to the same University at the same time.
He seemed a little uncomfortable, guarded, and twirled his wedding ring around his finger so I could see it. We chatted for a bit and I decided to put his mind at ease by asking about his wife and where she was from. He relaxed a little. The cynic in me says he did this in order to stop himself from flirting, or to stop others from seeing him as flirting. If he were really confident in his self and his marriage he wouldn't be afraid of a harmless conversation. I think he is a cheater.
I am so much more comfortable making a man think I am not interested than in making him think that I am. An ex boyfriend of mine accused me of making every man think I was in love with him. I am sure I did do that – only because I wanted every man to be in love with me, and I can turn it on easily with both men and women. That was so long ago now - back when I was young and fearless!
My fear of rejection is much stronger now than my desire for everyone to love me – if that makes any sense – so I choose to push people away. I have met many men who trod heavily on the softness of a woman’s exposed heart, and I have chosen to let it heal under the dark cover of heavy armor.
Actually, now that I think about it, I send the complete wrong signals to men. Those who I want to like me I completely ignore and wait for them to come up and tell me they are overcome with passion and must know my name (very realistic I know), and those I don't give a rat's ass about I am happy and laughing and totally enjoying their attention. And I get pissed off when men do this with me! This is often how I end up in relationships with men who I should have just been friends with. I send the wrong signals, but like the attention, and end up falling for the guy.
Only one day and already I have figured out all of my issues. I must be ready for some male interaction then!
D-Day
They say it takes 28 days to kick a habit. I didn’t realize I had a habit until I tried to spend a month without men.
This all started yesterday at the salon. I get my hair cut by a straight man named Jay. A wonderful guy who is single and a little bit lost at the moment. Jay has been cutting my hair for years and we have developed a great friendship. Also, he makes me look fabulous and I would follow him anywhere. Yesterday I was getting a colour only, and, since it was early on a Tuesday, no one else was there besides Joanne, my colourist, and Christine, the salon’s assistant. It is rare for it to be just us girls in the salon. I had spent the last week in preparation for my latest business trip (Europe for a month), and was sick and exhausted. I am vague about the ‘business trip’ part because I am sick of explaining what I do. When pressed I will tell people I am a travel writer. My close friends know of course that I write books for lovers – those on honeymoon, or on a romantic retreat with a partner. Apparently my books are quite popular with those cheating on their spouses and/or those traveling with their significant sources of sugar. I read once that the majority of people are happy with their careers if they feel as though they are contributing to something greater than themselves and making a difference in the world. Does it matter if you are disgusted by how you contribute?
As Joanne started on my hair I mentioned to her how tired I was. She said she could tell cause I was usually all “shits and giggles.” I felt mildly guilty for not being my usual chipper self and entertaining them all, but not enough to pretend to be happy – which I may have done if Jay had been there. I had never noted before how hard I work to make the men in my vicinity comfortable. Whoa – I am going to have to come back to that epiphany later.
The more I gave in to my mood the more easily the perils of the past week spilled from my mouth. I started bitching to Joanne – always up for a good story -- about the men I had spoken to that day and the reasons I felt they were contributing to my current state of malaise.
Reason Number One: Junior. On a purely technical basis, the sex I have been having with him is the best sex of my life (besides the Cuban, but we must forget him if I am to ever have sex with any normal man again). Yes there are other things involved in the chemistry between two people that has made sex with other men emotionally better, but he certainly has a special gift. He takes his time, waits for me to cum once or twice before he does, pays attention to the directions I move, the angles I like and what brings me pleasure and then puts himself in the position to be able to do that work for me so I didn’t have to bother myself with it. He is very attractive, well built, great dancer, good job, called often (at first) and drives a nice car. Everything was all well and good for the first couple of weeks until he started to disappear on week ends. It began innocently enough: He was supposed to come over for dinner one night and meet my dearest friend Michelle. They both worked at the same bank (in different areas) and I thought Michelle would be able to shed some light on Junior’s future career prospects for me - I am aware that this is shallow. Unfortunately his mother had just had an operation on her arm (frozen shoulder) and was screaming in pain so badly that his father had to take her to the hospital. Junior had no idea where they were so he drove around to a couple of hospitals until he found her. How sweet – I thought initially – although I was annoyed that I had actually cooked and he wasn’t able to come. This was Thursday night. For the rest of the week end he completely disappeared: did not return my calls or my text messages. I figured for sure the story about his mother was a complete crock of shit and that he had blown me off to hang out with his friends/girlfriends or whatever.
So I talk myself out of liking him (with Michelle and Sara - another dear friend's help), and then Monday comes around and he suddenly calls and I ask him to come over. I bite my tongue for about an hour and then give him the following speech: “I am not that girl who needs to know where you are every second, but I think it is really disrespectful not answering my calls or my text messages. I don’t care if you are out seeing other people, or want to hang out with your friends, but don’t make it seem like we are going to see each other and then just go off and do something else. If you have something else to do – just say it!”
So then the excuses started. My Mom was in and out of the hospital all week end – she was in a lot of pain – it was really upsetting. So I am thinking “what the hell is wrong with your mother that she actually screams from the pain she is in. Jesus that would stress me out too and actually I hope I never meet her if she is that dramatic.” Then he tells me that he lost his phone and got a new one. It is not even worth it to me to try to explain to him all the reasons why that is not an acceptable excuse.
It all makes me feel tired. I just want to have sex with this guy and have normal conversations, and have reasonable expectations as to when he is coming or going without him fantasizing about having me as a “girlfriend” so he can lie to me about where he is and what his commitments are. So then I just stand there staring at him and tell him that I have very simple expectations. He says, “Do you like my new phone?”
“That is not really what we are talking about here Junior.”
“I know,” he says, and walks over shyly and starts rubbing my shoulders. “Let me give you a massage?” And we all know what massages lead to.
"Ok," I say – and all is forgiven, that is all I really wanted anyway right?
Junior is not an aggressive guy – he does pretty much whatever I say, or at least agrees to it initially, but he does not apologize or give any reasonable explanations for his behaviour when he messes up.
By the time I got to the salon yesterday it was the third week end out of about 6 that he had disappeared. I sent him a text on Sunday morning telling him that what he was doing was making me feel like an asshole. He texted me on Tuesday saying: “I didn’t know what to say to that message so I haven’t called. If I call you, will you stab me?”
My response: “I can’t stab you though the phone.”
So he calls about a half hour later (!!!) I told him I think he is more afraid of telling me he can’t come over, so he says he can, but then disappoints me (all I had asked him to do this week end was to come over and fuck me at about 6 PM on Friday – the day we had had plans to meet since both of us were going out of town the next week). I will not re-hash all of the details of this conversation because I am guessing you have all already had it in one form or another with someone. Its resolution was that when he gets back from Florida (where he says he is going to golf alone every day – we all know this is bullshit too) he will be more settled and all this stuff will end. My question was – “when you get back from Florida your method of communication will be different?” My sarcasm was evidently lost on him since he deludedly said yes.
My discussion of this relationship at the salon sparked tales from both Joanne and Christine about men who don’t return calls, and don’t seem to take them into consideration at all. Christine was very passionate about one fellow who’s excuse for not answering her calls all day was that he was playing video games. WTF? Just say you are not interested! Seriously, is that too much to ask?
I was reminded of a sex and the city episode I had just watched where Samantha said: “women think about WE all the time in a relationship, when men think about we in a relationship it means me and my dick.” Well said my friend.
Reason number two:
When Junior had disappeared on the week end leading up to my going away for a month I was forced to go out and meet another man on the Friday night. His name was Andris. A 39 year old Business consultant and writer who has just gotten out of a serious relationship. He told me when we met that he had been going to the gym to work out his ass cause girls like guys with a tight butt. First of all – who the hell told you that that would be the best place to spend your energy? Secondly, why are you revealing to me that you are looking for a serious relationship? Don’t you know that is the kiss of death? He must be on the rebound.
After two gin and tonics I took it upon myself to share some information with him that I really think all men should know: There are four things that women look for in a man.
1. Is the sex good? I don’t care how much people protest that it is more important to men than women, it is, in fact the complete opposite. A man’s ability to rock her world in bed is the explanation for why most women date complete idiots. His inability to rock her world in bed is the explanation for the 50% + Divorce rate. Women very rarely admit this, but it is the sex that keeps you together when times are tough, and the memory of your once amazing sex that keeps you coming back for more when his well of invention dries up.
2. Does he make you laugh? If number one fails at any point, this can be a decent back up in a short term situation (or past the age of menopause, but for the sake of argument we are talking about pre-menopausal relationships here).
3. Is he intellectually stimulating? Actually stimulating, not just thinks he is.
4. Every thing else. All the so called deal breakers are in here, but they will be overlooked if those first three are all there.
Andris seemed very surprised by my summation. So we went back to his place to test it out. The sex wasn’t very good. He didn’t have Junior’s skills, but we are more intellectually suited than Junior and I are, and sexually there could be potential, but not a lot of chemistry. AND he doesn’t really make me laugh. Plus he reeks of desperation (which I am sure this book will reveal of me as well).
Even though it was awful the first time I still decided to give him another chance, and invited him to the opening of a rock bar in town. He showed up dressed in an outfit that was likely purchased by his mother and ordered a beer. We spoke for awhile at the bar, but he was completely un-interested in speaking to my friends or socializing. I was disappointed in the way he looked because I looked fantastic in a new dress, and had just had my hair done. I was also disappointed that he was drinking a beer. This was an exclusive, invite-only party with many potential contacts to be made. We weren't really getting along very well, so I was really glad when he excused his self to use the bathroom. While he was gone I started to speak to a group of men beside me. When Andris came back I had my back to where he had been standing. He thought it would be a good idea to take use his beer to get my attention by pressing it into my back, causing me to jump and turn around. After that I tried to socialize more by sending my friends 'help me' looks. It worked for awhile and we went upstairs to dance. After about 10 minutes of peaceful dancing he tried to make out with me on the dance floor. That is where I drew the line. uukkyyy
So Andris was added to my bitch list because the only thing worse than no sex is bad sex, and the only thing worse than not dating is dating someone who embarrasses you.
Reason Number Three:
Men who get mad at you because they can’t get what they want when they want it. I realize this is a contradiction, because all I say I want is sex from Junior when I want it. We all know that is not really the case. I want the same thing every time. To be swept off my feet by a confident man who loves me, respects me, laughs at my jokes and won’t take no for an answer (unless I mean it). There were two of these angry guys projecting their shit on me that day. One fighting with his ex-wife who he is convinced is also me, and the other- pissed that I don’t want to see him anymore is picking fights with me about money.
Reason Number Four: The ever-elusive Brandon. This is the guy who I fell in love with on our first three dates, but who wouldn’t touch me. I came up with a million reasons as to why - he was a gentleman, he was really serious about me and wanted to be sure before he made the first move . . . until he finally took me out for dinner and told me he didn’t want to be my boyfriend, but really liked hanging out with me and just wanted to be friends. I cried at the table in front of him. It was awful. I had only known the guy for about two weeks. So I decided he could be my friend and kept “hanging out” with him, getting to know him, deepening our connection – which is un-deniable – and letting myself get hurt. I will not list his flaws here because I would over look them – I already do – and I am pretty sure he would cause a lot of pain in my life if we were together, but I feel like he could be the one (I roll my eyes as I write that). SO I haven’t seen nor heard from him for months – he is “traveling”, yet I still obsess. We never had sex – nor kissed. This is more than a case of my wanting something I can not have, but I can’t seem to let go. Maybe he is my Mr. Big?
By the end of my session with the girls I was looking fabulous, but feeling even more emotionally exhausted than before- so I suddenly declared: “I am tired of obsessing over men. I spend so much energy on this shit. I wonder what I could accomplish in the hours I think, talk and dress for men. That’s it. I am going to spend a month without men, but I won’t start till January cause it is not convenient for me right now and no one wants to be celibate when they are traveling. . ." I was talking myself out of it already . . . and Joanne was no help:
“Ya, don’t do it in Europe – there are a lot of hot guys there.”
But knowing myself as I do I knew that if I didn’t take this on now it would never happen, and the thought of spending another day hoping every text message, email, glance or phone call was from one of the admirers clamouring to be my husband made me feel like someone was loading my purse with bricks! So I said: “I am going to start it now.”
And so I did.
My flight left for London that afternoon. Four weeks in Europe visiting romantic locations, watching couples fight, ignore the service staff and make pigs of themselves.
After a reasonable flight to London I checked into my hotel near Stanstead where I would catch my flight to Sweden the following morning. In the lobby I waited in line. The English have this infuriating habit of forming lines wherever possible. It’s like they feel that nothing is worth having unless you have to wait in line for it. I like to bud wherever possible in England, and it is surprisingly easy. The taste of bitterness from my man dilemmas was still fresh on my tongue so I figured why not add on a little misery and stand in line with the Bitter Brits.
Got in the elevator and looked at myself in the mirror. What is wrong with me? I asked the familiar question. I am beautiful, I have a bit of a belly, but there were plenty of fat women in the lobby with big fat rings on their fingers. This question is the one that takes a little piece of me away every time I ask it. This question is the reason I will follow through with this experiment. If nothing else, I have to heal this disconnection with myself.
This all started yesterday at the salon. I get my hair cut by a straight man named Jay. A wonderful guy who is single and a little bit lost at the moment. Jay has been cutting my hair for years and we have developed a great friendship. Also, he makes me look fabulous and I would follow him anywhere. Yesterday I was getting a colour only, and, since it was early on a Tuesday, no one else was there besides Joanne, my colourist, and Christine, the salon’s assistant. It is rare for it to be just us girls in the salon. I had spent the last week in preparation for my latest business trip (Europe for a month), and was sick and exhausted. I am vague about the ‘business trip’ part because I am sick of explaining what I do. When pressed I will tell people I am a travel writer. My close friends know of course that I write books for lovers – those on honeymoon, or on a romantic retreat with a partner. Apparently my books are quite popular with those cheating on their spouses and/or those traveling with their significant sources of sugar. I read once that the majority of people are happy with their careers if they feel as though they are contributing to something greater than themselves and making a difference in the world. Does it matter if you are disgusted by how you contribute?
As Joanne started on my hair I mentioned to her how tired I was. She said she could tell cause I was usually all “shits and giggles.” I felt mildly guilty for not being my usual chipper self and entertaining them all, but not enough to pretend to be happy – which I may have done if Jay had been there. I had never noted before how hard I work to make the men in my vicinity comfortable. Whoa – I am going to have to come back to that epiphany later.
The more I gave in to my mood the more easily the perils of the past week spilled from my mouth. I started bitching to Joanne – always up for a good story -- about the men I had spoken to that day and the reasons I felt they were contributing to my current state of malaise.
Reason Number One: Junior. On a purely technical basis, the sex I have been having with him is the best sex of my life (besides the Cuban, but we must forget him if I am to ever have sex with any normal man again). Yes there are other things involved in the chemistry between two people that has made sex with other men emotionally better, but he certainly has a special gift. He takes his time, waits for me to cum once or twice before he does, pays attention to the directions I move, the angles I like and what brings me pleasure and then puts himself in the position to be able to do that work for me so I didn’t have to bother myself with it. He is very attractive, well built, great dancer, good job, called often (at first) and drives a nice car. Everything was all well and good for the first couple of weeks until he started to disappear on week ends. It began innocently enough: He was supposed to come over for dinner one night and meet my dearest friend Michelle. They both worked at the same bank (in different areas) and I thought Michelle would be able to shed some light on Junior’s future career prospects for me - I am aware that this is shallow. Unfortunately his mother had just had an operation on her arm (frozen shoulder) and was screaming in pain so badly that his father had to take her to the hospital. Junior had no idea where they were so he drove around to a couple of hospitals until he found her. How sweet – I thought initially – although I was annoyed that I had actually cooked and he wasn’t able to come. This was Thursday night. For the rest of the week end he completely disappeared: did not return my calls or my text messages. I figured for sure the story about his mother was a complete crock of shit and that he had blown me off to hang out with his friends/girlfriends or whatever.
So I talk myself out of liking him (with Michelle and Sara - another dear friend's help), and then Monday comes around and he suddenly calls and I ask him to come over. I bite my tongue for about an hour and then give him the following speech: “I am not that girl who needs to know where you are every second, but I think it is really disrespectful not answering my calls or my text messages. I don’t care if you are out seeing other people, or want to hang out with your friends, but don’t make it seem like we are going to see each other and then just go off and do something else. If you have something else to do – just say it!”
So then the excuses started. My Mom was in and out of the hospital all week end – she was in a lot of pain – it was really upsetting. So I am thinking “what the hell is wrong with your mother that she actually screams from the pain she is in. Jesus that would stress me out too and actually I hope I never meet her if she is that dramatic.” Then he tells me that he lost his phone and got a new one. It is not even worth it to me to try to explain to him all the reasons why that is not an acceptable excuse.
It all makes me feel tired. I just want to have sex with this guy and have normal conversations, and have reasonable expectations as to when he is coming or going without him fantasizing about having me as a “girlfriend” so he can lie to me about where he is and what his commitments are. So then I just stand there staring at him and tell him that I have very simple expectations. He says, “Do you like my new phone?”
“That is not really what we are talking about here Junior.”
“I know,” he says, and walks over shyly and starts rubbing my shoulders. “Let me give you a massage?” And we all know what massages lead to.
"Ok," I say – and all is forgiven, that is all I really wanted anyway right?
Junior is not an aggressive guy – he does pretty much whatever I say, or at least agrees to it initially, but he does not apologize or give any reasonable explanations for his behaviour when he messes up.
By the time I got to the salon yesterday it was the third week end out of about 6 that he had disappeared. I sent him a text on Sunday morning telling him that what he was doing was making me feel like an asshole. He texted me on Tuesday saying: “I didn’t know what to say to that message so I haven’t called. If I call you, will you stab me?”
My response: “I can’t stab you though the phone.”
So he calls about a half hour later (!!!) I told him I think he is more afraid of telling me he can’t come over, so he says he can, but then disappoints me (all I had asked him to do this week end was to come over and fuck me at about 6 PM on Friday – the day we had had plans to meet since both of us were going out of town the next week). I will not re-hash all of the details of this conversation because I am guessing you have all already had it in one form or another with someone. Its resolution was that when he gets back from Florida (where he says he is going to golf alone every day – we all know this is bullshit too) he will be more settled and all this stuff will end. My question was – “when you get back from Florida your method of communication will be different?” My sarcasm was evidently lost on him since he deludedly said yes.
My discussion of this relationship at the salon sparked tales from both Joanne and Christine about men who don’t return calls, and don’t seem to take them into consideration at all. Christine was very passionate about one fellow who’s excuse for not answering her calls all day was that he was playing video games. WTF? Just say you are not interested! Seriously, is that too much to ask?
I was reminded of a sex and the city episode I had just watched where Samantha said: “women think about WE all the time in a relationship, when men think about we in a relationship it means me and my dick.” Well said my friend.
Reason number two:
When Junior had disappeared on the week end leading up to my going away for a month I was forced to go out and meet another man on the Friday night. His name was Andris. A 39 year old Business consultant and writer who has just gotten out of a serious relationship. He told me when we met that he had been going to the gym to work out his ass cause girls like guys with a tight butt. First of all – who the hell told you that that would be the best place to spend your energy? Secondly, why are you revealing to me that you are looking for a serious relationship? Don’t you know that is the kiss of death? He must be on the rebound.
After two gin and tonics I took it upon myself to share some information with him that I really think all men should know: There are four things that women look for in a man.
1. Is the sex good? I don’t care how much people protest that it is more important to men than women, it is, in fact the complete opposite. A man’s ability to rock her world in bed is the explanation for why most women date complete idiots. His inability to rock her world in bed is the explanation for the 50% + Divorce rate. Women very rarely admit this, but it is the sex that keeps you together when times are tough, and the memory of your once amazing sex that keeps you coming back for more when his well of invention dries up.
2. Does he make you laugh? If number one fails at any point, this can be a decent back up in a short term situation (or past the age of menopause, but for the sake of argument we are talking about pre-menopausal relationships here).
3. Is he intellectually stimulating? Actually stimulating, not just thinks he is.
4. Every thing else. All the so called deal breakers are in here, but they will be overlooked if those first three are all there.
Andris seemed very surprised by my summation. So we went back to his place to test it out. The sex wasn’t very good. He didn’t have Junior’s skills, but we are more intellectually suited than Junior and I are, and sexually there could be potential, but not a lot of chemistry. AND he doesn’t really make me laugh. Plus he reeks of desperation (which I am sure this book will reveal of me as well).
Even though it was awful the first time I still decided to give him another chance, and invited him to the opening of a rock bar in town. He showed up dressed in an outfit that was likely purchased by his mother and ordered a beer. We spoke for awhile at the bar, but he was completely un-interested in speaking to my friends or socializing. I was disappointed in the way he looked because I looked fantastic in a new dress, and had just had my hair done. I was also disappointed that he was drinking a beer. This was an exclusive, invite-only party with many potential contacts to be made. We weren't really getting along very well, so I was really glad when he excused his self to use the bathroom. While he was gone I started to speak to a group of men beside me. When Andris came back I had my back to where he had been standing. He thought it would be a good idea to take use his beer to get my attention by pressing it into my back, causing me to jump and turn around. After that I tried to socialize more by sending my friends 'help me' looks. It worked for awhile and we went upstairs to dance. After about 10 minutes of peaceful dancing he tried to make out with me on the dance floor. That is where I drew the line. uukkyyy
So Andris was added to my bitch list because the only thing worse than no sex is bad sex, and the only thing worse than not dating is dating someone who embarrasses you.
Reason Number Three:
Men who get mad at you because they can’t get what they want when they want it. I realize this is a contradiction, because all I say I want is sex from Junior when I want it. We all know that is not really the case. I want the same thing every time. To be swept off my feet by a confident man who loves me, respects me, laughs at my jokes and won’t take no for an answer (unless I mean it). There were two of these angry guys projecting their shit on me that day. One fighting with his ex-wife who he is convinced is also me, and the other- pissed that I don’t want to see him anymore is picking fights with me about money.
Reason Number Four: The ever-elusive Brandon. This is the guy who I fell in love with on our first three dates, but who wouldn’t touch me. I came up with a million reasons as to why - he was a gentleman, he was really serious about me and wanted to be sure before he made the first move . . . until he finally took me out for dinner and told me he didn’t want to be my boyfriend, but really liked hanging out with me and just wanted to be friends. I cried at the table in front of him. It was awful. I had only known the guy for about two weeks. So I decided he could be my friend and kept “hanging out” with him, getting to know him, deepening our connection – which is un-deniable – and letting myself get hurt. I will not list his flaws here because I would over look them – I already do – and I am pretty sure he would cause a lot of pain in my life if we were together, but I feel like he could be the one (I roll my eyes as I write that). SO I haven’t seen nor heard from him for months – he is “traveling”, yet I still obsess. We never had sex – nor kissed. This is more than a case of my wanting something I can not have, but I can’t seem to let go. Maybe he is my Mr. Big?
By the end of my session with the girls I was looking fabulous, but feeling even more emotionally exhausted than before- so I suddenly declared: “I am tired of obsessing over men. I spend so much energy on this shit. I wonder what I could accomplish in the hours I think, talk and dress for men. That’s it. I am going to spend a month without men, but I won’t start till January cause it is not convenient for me right now and no one wants to be celibate when they are traveling. . ." I was talking myself out of it already . . . and Joanne was no help:
“Ya, don’t do it in Europe – there are a lot of hot guys there.”
But knowing myself as I do I knew that if I didn’t take this on now it would never happen, and the thought of spending another day hoping every text message, email, glance or phone call was from one of the admirers clamouring to be my husband made me feel like someone was loading my purse with bricks! So I said: “I am going to start it now.”
And so I did.
My flight left for London that afternoon. Four weeks in Europe visiting romantic locations, watching couples fight, ignore the service staff and make pigs of themselves.
After a reasonable flight to London I checked into my hotel near Stanstead where I would catch my flight to Sweden the following morning. In the lobby I waited in line. The English have this infuriating habit of forming lines wherever possible. It’s like they feel that nothing is worth having unless you have to wait in line for it. I like to bud wherever possible in England, and it is surprisingly easy. The taste of bitterness from my man dilemmas was still fresh on my tongue so I figured why not add on a little misery and stand in line with the Bitter Brits.
Got in the elevator and looked at myself in the mirror. What is wrong with me? I asked the familiar question. I am beautiful, I have a bit of a belly, but there were plenty of fat women in the lobby with big fat rings on their fingers. This question is the one that takes a little piece of me away every time I ask it. This question is the reason I will follow through with this experiment. If nothing else, I have to heal this disconnection with myself.
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