Guy Fawkes (but does not fuck) Day

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.