quiet? really?!

so i went on the second date. and he was very nice and explained to me that he has massive baggage (ex and rebound) still loitering. told him i wouldn't see him again. (i mean, i said it nicely)

we made out. very nice.

and so we're lying in a park under the stars (or just one star rather cos it was rather cloudy) and he was talking. he talks quite a bit. it's nice. and he asks me questions. and i'm so wrapped up in listening to him that i don't really answer. apart from the amazing fact that i can't really think of anything to say, i'm just waiting to listen to the next thing he says. i spend so much time with people who listen to me 24/7... this must be what it's like to be on the other end. it's actually nice, and i never thought it would be. i now understand my best friend, who would always say simply 'But Bee, i'm a listener,' when i used to get exasperated at her silence.

but i think it annoyed him. my silence, i mean. well, it's not like i wasn't answering him at all, but i certainly wasn't furthering the conversation. in the field that i'm in, i'm very aware of the difference between open and closed conversation... and i just realised tonight, 4 nights later, that he would have been really struggling.

and i want to say sorry, but i guess it doesn't matter, cos i'm not going to see him again anyway. but i feel ridiculously guilty. and i also feel like laughing my head off, cos i don't think i've EVER been in that situation in my life; where i've been the quiet one making the other person feel uncomfortable.

no! actually i lie! i can tie another story into this!

Just last night Old Man called me. he has been regularly (around every 10 days to 2 weeks) messaging me and calling me. i've been ignoring everything. this has been going on for MONTHS now. examples of his last two message: HI, IT'S OLD MAN... HOW ARE YOU? I HOPE YOU ARE WELL. KEEP IN TOUCH. YOURS, OLD MAN. and: THINKING OF YOU... OLD MAN :)

no shit.

anyway.

he called me last night on PRIVATE! little fucker.

Me: Good afternoon, Bee speaking.
Old Man: Bee! hello!
Me: (i knew who it was just from those two words and nearly rammed up the car in front of me on Alexandra Pde). Hello? who's this?
Old Man: uh, Bee, it's Old Man
Me: (feigning ignorance) Old Man?
Old Man: yes, we did the personal development course together?

at this point i ran through all this in my head in a matter of milliseconds:
1- i didn't want to talk to him
2 - last time i was stuck on the phone with him for half an hour and he left thinking i was interested in him
3- if i was going to be nice and polite to him the same would happen again
4- i was around the corner from salsa, and was this entire conversation worth it? NO!

Me: (coldly) ah yes Old Man (things thought but not said: Wow! How are you? i haven't spoken to you in ages!)
Old Man: uhm, so... Bee? how have you been?
Me: Good. (thoughts: eek! this is killing me... feel insane desire to ask him how he is... biting lip)
Old Man: oh ok. uhm, so Bee, i was wondering, I'm going to that other Personal development course, and there's an introduction to it this tuesday, and i would really love you to come with me as my guest.
Me: um, no thankyou (HAD TO say thankyou at the end... otherwise would have had an accident on the road)
Old Man: uh, well, why not?
Me: i'm not interested in it. (i'm KILLING myself. i am actually going to make myself explode from rudeness)
Old Man: but... (by this point, clearly struggling with this one sided conversation) that's what an introduction is for, to see if you're interested.
Me: no. i'm telling you i'm not. (agh! aaaaagh!)
Old Man: oh, ok (very taken aback)
Me: ok, well Old Man, have a good evening, bye! (i already feel like a dog, might as well keep going)
Old Man: uhm, bye Bee (almost a whisper)

good god!

i literally nearly killed myself doing that!

and others on the road around me.

life's pleasures

it was great!

i love myself.

i took great pleasure today in telling my co-worker, S. (the one who is married and faithful and is living vicariously through me and other co-worker J. and is telling us to go out and shag 24/7) that i went out on a date Saturday night and that i didn't kiss him, or even touch him, other than peck-on-the-cheek hello and goodbye.

S: 'what?! and he wants to see you again?'

me: Yep

S: like, you're actually going on a second date with him? and you didn't kiss him? are you sure?

love it. love myself. love that i've ruined her theory on being a slut and shagging everyone in sight.

i win!

'actively' looking

my best friend had a mini intervention with me last week. we caught up for lunch because i was off work sick. i was telling her a funny story from salsa and she suddenly interrupted...

L: Bee
Me: ...and then she - What?
L: Bee you need to start dating
Me: huh? L., you're not listening, i'm telling you a story! anyway-
L: Bee, why aren't you going out on dates?
Me: (succumbing to my story being well and truly interrupted) well... i dunno.
L: Yes you do know. you're always at salsa. like ALL THE TIME. and you know there's no one there for you
Me: well i'm not really looking. not actively looking anyway.
L: well i think you should
Me: well i think your face should. (2 year old, i know)
L: Bee... are you gonna go on some dates? please?
Me: fuck, L. no, i could if i wanted to, i don't want to!
L: Bee! come on! for me?!
Me: date... for you? you're a dik... FINE! i'll date... just let me finish my story!

so i finished my story. and i actually thought about the fact that L. said something to me. I know my friends, and i know that she would have been sent as the messenger on behalf of all my friends to tell me i need to date, which also means that they have discussed my lack of dates with one another.

hmm.

they're always dating.

and i would never in a million years go on the dates that they go on. like they meet guys at clubs, kiss them (as if!) and exchange numbers and meet up at the guy's house. they're constantly telling me off, and i try my hardest to keep my mouth shut to stop myself from inadvertedly calling them slags. i love my friends, and i don't care if that's what they want to do, but there is no hope in hell i'm going to do that.

so anyway - a guy asked me out and i went out on a date Saturday night.

and i didn't kiss him.

nor did the date take place at his house.

and we're messaging / calling / emailing.

see?

so there

eek! i'm increasing the distance...

between myself and males who can't spell to save their souls.

i'm a nerd. i know that. i can do all the social things i want but at the end of the day i'm fully aware that i'm a geek and a bookworm. i do my latin dancing, i go to performances, karaoke, pilates, yoga, burlesque class. i do it... but if you peel off one layer, just one, you'll find hundreds of books and blogs and stories and smses. what applications do i have on my iphone?

facebook - so i can read to stay updated 24/7 with everyone

sudoku - the only form of 'maths' i do since year 12

stanza - download books on my iphone and read them. so far i've read: the wizard of oz, Les Miserables, the time machine and orwell's bookshop memories. GEEK

banner - ok this one is a gimmick - it's one of those lcd banners and i can write whatever i want it it scrolls accross the screen eg. saturday morning GO AWAY MUM I'M SLEEPING

wikipanion - mini wikipedia so i can wiki anything day or night

world wiki - gives me info on every country in the world

blanks - an AWESOME game where you have to fill in the missing word
eg. an event or situation that happens at the same time as or in connection with another
concomitant, raillery, peasant or bigot?

translator - self explanatory - can do any language

tanzen - nerdy game where you have to fit the small shapes into the one larger shape.

lightsaber - hehe.

like is this what i bought the iphone for?

hang on, i digress.

so, i own thesauruses, dictionaries, books of sayings, analogies, metaphors; everything! i just came across this freerice.com site that donates 20 grains of rice to the UN world food program for every correct answer.
eg.the effect of the cold will not affect / effect me. choose one.

like seriously. i just got off msn chatting with a guy who couldn't string a sentence together much less spell, i was actually angry at him but i think it's my fault! he may have spelt 'a lot' as one word, and 'guess' without the 'u' but does that make him a bad person? (well yes because in the space of one minutes he asked me if i wanted to settle down, if i wanted to marry, if i wanted kids, when i was planning on settling and if i had an investment property. my response was 'are you drunk?' 'lol, no why?') hmmm

my next boyfriend...

i'm not even going to kiss him. not even hold his hand. seriously. i'm bored at home, reading every printed word known to man. i've got piles of books around me, have been reading blogs to death, and now decided to do something really terrible and reread my ex's emails.

oh

my

god

i'm reading them chronologically which i've probably never done before and it's suddenly very obvious that he was much more interested in me while we were still talking, before we were a couple. honestly, our initial emails back and forth are him writing two or three paragraphs and me responding with one line, or even sometimes one word. the day we became a couple is literally the day he starts writing one liners, usually saying 'i'll talk to you tonight when i see you.' now we were seeing each other very regularly when we weren't together - so it's not like anything changed there.

what bullshit.

is spelling THAT important?!

facebook conversation between me and my cousin D yesterday

(previous conversation was me telling her to not send an abusive message to the guy she was seeing)
D: well can i send him a nice message then?
B: no. no. no. you have gone on ONE date. no
D: but we speak every day!
B: you cannot akt like a neurotic wife
D: fine but i'm just letting you know that i'm in a foul mood
B: fine.
D: akt?! lol
B: how did i put k in? how the hell did i do that?
D:that's ok... C. (her best friend) picked up a guy last night who rites thet and rebbet
B: ?
D: that and rabbit
B: bahaha omg poor girl
D: that's not even phonetic... worse than V. (D.'s ex, who used to talk and write like a muzza)
B: !
D: lol she cancelled her date
B: based on spelling. did she tell him?
D: no.

now that might not seem that normal to you, for girls to make a massive deal about spelling BUT WE DO! if a guy rites lyk dis n speeks lyk a muzztek forget it.

if they speak like morons with wog accents that they can turn on and off (eg. work versus hanging out 'with the boys') forget it.

before i come across as a total bitch i'd like to point out that my ex, A., spoke english as his second language and that is NOT what i'm talking about at all here. he misspelt things all the time, and got his words mixed up when he spoke - i didn't care, i'm an ESL teacher!

and after all there are some girls out there that really go for wogs like that. ones that call their girlfriends their 'missus', the kinds of guys who seem to wear hats all the time, strangely. (i'm fully aware that i'm stereotyping)

a little while ago i met someone online who spoke well and could spell. i was HOOKED. that was all it took. that is ridiculous. is it because when you're chatting over the internet or over sms that you have so little to latch onto that if spelling is perfect you'll see that as a major plus? people's spelling doesn't mean they're a good or bad person. it might relate to how they speak, which would then affect whether or not i'm attracted to them i guess.

and finally i accidentally type things like 'akt'. what if i wrote that to a new guy and he pfffffted me and didn't respond? would i like that? NO. so from now on i will be nicer to guys who were obviously picking their noses and flicking it at other kids in primary school while the rest of the class was being taught how to spell.

brain retraining checklist

they are having an intervention with me right now. to detract from this we're making the following checklist for when brain retraining is required-

1 (only applies to bianca) does he have hair?
2 is his friedge covered in speeding fines?
3 is he always broke? (could be a druggie/alco)
4 is he still acting like an 18 year old?
5 is he secretive about stuff?
6 is he self centered?
7 does he put in less to the relationship as you do?
8 is he still hanging out with his ex girlfriends?
9 does it take him longer than 1 day to sms you back?
10 does it take him longer than five months to do something nice?

bitter and twisted

a few weeks ago at dancing one of my friends, George (not the bald one), was telling us a story about these two girls he overheard at the motor show, talking about guys they were seeing. they were leggy barbies, the ones that usually wear next to nothing or, worse still, have their clothes just painted on. anyway, he heard one say to the other 'well, i'm seeing Rick and Paul at the moment, but really, at the end of the day, Rick makes 120 grand a year and Paul only makes 85 grand a year so I think i'm going to keep Rick.'

He spun around and went skitzo at them. Told them it was stupid girls like them that made men the way they are. Told them that their looks will eventually fade and they'd be left with nothing. Told them that there was clearly nothing between the ears. That Rick and Paul were probably screwing another 10 girls each. He told them that they weren't anything special. They were apparently stunned into silence and didn't respond.

He turned to me and asked 'Can you believe how stupid they were?!"

I suddenly realised I'd been holding my breath. I looked over at Renee, an older dancer who is very happy with her partner. She looked how i felt about the whole story.

'George,' I said gently. 'You sound really bitter and twisted.'

'What?! what doyou think?' he asked Renee.

'Uhm,' she stammered. 'well, not twisted... but bitter, very bitter.'

'I sound like that,' I whispered, more to myself than them.

'What, bella?' Renee asked, trying to get out of telling George she thought he was insance.

'I sound like that. Sometimes. Not all the time. But listening to George just now made me realise that sometimes... that's me. But the other way around. I'm going crazy at men and blaming random men for all the horrible things that other men have done to me. I don't want to sound like that.' My head was spinning.

'Honey, seriously, you never sound like that. So don't worry,' Renee reassured me.

but sometimes i do.

'He's a dick' training

cousin, D, has been insisting that the moment one gives up on who they fancy (fucking Bridget Jones) that's when the fancied will present back in your life and then you have to retrain yourself to like them again. unfortunately D. said that they don't come back into your life until you convince yourself that your fancied man is a dick. and not fake dislike, you really need to make yourself get over him. referred to as 'he's a dick brain training.' the moment you actually believe that he's no good for you, he's seeing 3 other girls, he's homosexual etc that's when he'll suddenly reappear and seem the epitome of perfection.

went out for brunch with workmates J and B, told them D's ridiculous story... and they both believed it wholeheartedly and tried to convince me it was actually so. what utter rubbish. the world doesn't work in a 'Ha ha, tricked ya!' kind of way. couldn't believe they were backing her up - theory is utter bullshit.

tonight i called D, complaining about boy troubles. by the end of the telephone call we decided to commence 'he's a dick brain retraining.' got off the mobile and said out loud to myself in the car 'ok. beginning he's a dick brain retraining.... He's a dick.' NO SOONER HAD THE WORDS COME OUT OF MY MOUTH THAT THE AFORE MENTIONED 'DICK' MESSAGED MY MOBILE.

called B - told him about the sms right after proclaiming fancied's dickedness. he didn't seem very surprised. that shit me - like as if he was so certain of the theory that of course it would happen. still think it's just one massive coincidence... but slightly freaky too.

decided that, dick or not, have to stop messaging him. went through phone and changed name to DO NOT MESSAGE to remind myself when am about to press send. noticed my ever growing list of DO NOT ANSWER numbers in contact list, combination of stalkers and... well, stalkers. hate that i get like this. if someone talks to me i quieten down. if someone doesn't talk i turn into a fucking maniac and blabber on till i'm totally nonsensical. so - we'll see how long i can withhold contact... perhaps should tell S and J so they can make another bet on me grrrrr

Bridget Jones is ruining my life

first and foremost it's ruining my writing style, because not only am writing like Helen Fielding, am also thinking in these wierd, staccattoed sentences. so stupid.

so - have been having slight troubles relating to males lately. Under normal circumstances i'd just think at night, act the next day, and accept whatever comes. Except now circle of friends has changed slightly. at work i'm now surrounded by three people:

B-Gay male youth worker. My age exactly. is having boy troubles of his own, therefore the conversation comes up quite a bit. He says he's never had a boyfriend, but really, the gay world is so blaze about everything, it's just not the same. when i say i haven't had a boyfriend for a year that also means i haven't done anything, bar an odd kiss here or there. he's dating, kissing, groping and more as part of his regular weekend routine. i can't keep up with his stories for all the men he refers to.

J- female youth worker, one year younger than me, recently broke up with her boyfriend of years and years and is now in a wonderful rebound relationship. love her to death, but she is truly rubbing in my 13 month problem... like literally rubbing; got my hand last week, exclaimed 'feel this!' and rubbed by hand up against her cheek which felt as smooth as a baby's bottom. 'that's what 3 hours of sex will do for you.' even more miserable now as my own skin has become horrific for the first time in my entire life.

S- female youth worker and mother. happily married with 2 kids. she's decided to live her life vicariously through ours and is pro J's rebound relationship and has been trying desperately to get me to 'go out and have a good old shag' (she's english). have explained to her till i'm blue in the face that i'm not like that.

so even if i go into work thinking i'm not going to discuss my love life (or lack thereof), it inevitably is just hanging around in the air, awaiting one of us to start talking about.

S has totally done my head in with her books lately. she read this book entitled 'Chasing Harry Winston' by the same author of the devil wears prada. (note; some serious editing problems in that text). nevertheless, she briefly explained about the three girls in the book; the gorgeous one that has a new guy every day (B), the solid and stable one in a relationship who has suddenly broken up (J) and the one who will only shag (her word) a guy if she's 'in love' with him so her friends dare her to shag a guy from each continent. at this point they all turned to me. i am not fucking random men from antarctica. my workmates are insane.

so i read the book. got up to the part where my character finally has her first random shag and it's great. i sent an sms at 1am to B, J and S: HEY GUYS. I KNOW IT'S LATE BUT I THINK I DO HAVE TO HAVE RANDOM SEX. I JUST READ THE PART WHERE EMMY HAS SEX WITH GEORGE IN THE SPA, AND I DON'T KNOW WHY I HAVE SO MANY GODDAM RULES. IT'S NOW YOUR JOBS TO FIND ME A GUY - I'M SO OVER TEA!

(perhaps should insert here that i started a tea drinking obsession - every time thought about single doom and it's related domedness drank a cup of tea. S and J had an intervention with me a couple of months ago when, at 9.35am, i was onto my third cup)

One week later i finished the book and we were having coffee at Gloria Jeans (not STARFUCKS where they yell at you for buying their cups and refilling them! diks...) and i quietly admitted that i'd thought about it, and my conclusion was that random sex was not for me. they jumped up, S high fived J and yelled 'i told you it'd take her a week to go back on it!' 'Damn, a week today too, i thought it'd take longer! good guess!' what the fuck, they were literally making bets on me.

babies everywhere

i had a major vent to two of my coworkers yesterday morning after watching the movie. Sarah, who is 38 and had two children by the time she was my age, kept on yelling 'Bee! shutup! you're only 24! get over it! you've got years ahead of you!' My other co-worker, Brett, kept rolling his eyes and saying 'Bee, seriously, calm down, come on let's go to lunch.'

so i drove us to the plaza and Brett, trying to be nice, suggested that we walk through Myer instead of the normal entrance so Sarah can look for Bali clothes and I can look for Thailand clothes. first step in and we were faced with an enormous infant display with a giant stork holding a sheet with babies inside and lots of tiny baby clothes around.

'See?! it's everywhere!' i screamed. Brett dragged me off and said 'ooh look Bee! 75% off and it's all summer stock! just what you need!'

i began rifling through the racks and found everything to be either size 6 or 16. then i found this beautiful white kaftan that would have been perfect to wear over bikinis in Thailand. My mood instantly lightened - only $50 too!

Sarah saw it and her face fell. 'that's what i want... if it doesn't fit you can i try it on? it's not going to fit your boobs anyway'

'Will too! Bitch!' i skipped off to the change room, ripped off my skirt and top, put on the kaftan... and it totally didn't fit my chest.

'Bee? can i try it on now?' Sarah was waiting on the other side of the door.

'Get stuffed! agh!' i ripped it off and opened the door in my underwear and threw it at her. She did this psychotic evil laugh (ok maybe it just seemed that way) and ran into her change room with it. I grumbled through putting my clothes back on and came out to find her in the corridor with it on, looking STUNNING and it fitting her chest perfectly.

'i hate you!' i yelled and stormed out. I waited by the cash register as she bought MY kaftan - only to then hear the cashier tell her it was reduced further to $12.50
Sarah took one look at my face and burst out laughing. this one was an evil laugh - there was no doubt about it.

we grabbed lunch and i went back into my office and wrote my last blog about the movie to vent. i closed it and realised i had an email from my friend from dancing who is pregnant at the moment, inviting me to a nappy party - like how you can perfume or underwear parties - she's having a Reusable Nappy Party ... and she wrote 'I KNOW most of you don’t have children but you may have them one day so could be worth a look.'

so next wednesday i'm now going to this nappy party and i'm going to feel her tummy and her other friends will be there with babies and AGH! i can't wait to go to thailand and hopefully fill my head with other things.

i am hollywood's drawing board

so i found ANOTHER movie about me last night. well this one isn't about me in the present, but it sure as hell will be.

i went to watch 'Baby Mama' last night. about a woman who has been into her career and friends and family and never met 'the one' and then finds herself 37 and childless - so she tries IVF and when it proves to be unsuccessful (due to a T-shaped uterus!?) she decides to go the surrogate option.

in my private blog i have written this:

is it all worth it?
what do i want from life?
i want kids. of that i am certain. there is no doubt and there will never be any doubt of that. i want kids more than i want a husband and more than i want to get married, i've realised lately.

if i get to 30 and i'm still unatached with no vision in the near future of getting married i will seriously begin looking for ways to have kids. be it a sperm donor, marrying one of my gay friends and adopting, i don't care. even doing foster care to lead to adoption. i don't care, i need kids.

i don't look at men and think 'omg, i NEED one of those in my life'. but i do look at children and melt and cry and stay miserable for ages.

i look at myself and think realistically i'm only 24. but i want to be a nonna. i want my children, their husbands and wives and their children around me. i want my grandchildren to come over to have sleepovers at Nonna Bianca's house. i don't want to have kids at 40 and be in a nursing home before they get married

truthfully i want to have kids in my 20's. i would like... 27. that's only 2 and a half years away. i know it's not going to happen.

what could possibly be so bad about going on RSVP? if in a few years time i'm going to be more than willing to marry a gay man - what's the problem then with going on one of those internet dating things?

so i began googling adoption last night and i couldn't stop reading. there seems to be three options - foster care leading to adoption, domestic adoption and international adoption. and the prices weren't as insane as what i had been expecting either - that said - i don't think any amount would shock me because the thought of having a child just makes me hug myself to death.

foster care doesn't really appeal to me. if i was 50 and my kids had moved out of home i would probably do it. or if adoption fell through and i couldn't have my own. but the idea of having a newborn is just what i want, and that just doesn't happen with foster care.

realistically i'd have to adopt from overseas which is double the price of domestic adoptions but again - not fazed in the slightest.

i remember it took my cousins from italy a few years to get their son from Romania, and i thought it would take about the same, possibly longer considering i'm single, but everywhere i'm reading is telling me the process from beginning to end is about one year if you're using an agency. i guess this comes down to two things; that an agency would speed up the process and that they are slow dodgey wankers in Italy.

so... this realization seems very correct in my mind. I'm not looking for a husband; i'm looking for children. Life of a Bee with Kids?

free

I am so happy. Not 'I'm in a good mood'. Not 'I'm having a good day.' I'm ecstatic. And relieved. And normal again.

I went strait from work to the hairdressers last night. I decided to put purple in my hair. I love it. I then went strait to my cousin's house to have dinner and watch SYTYCD. Then strait to Copa for salsa.

I walked in, and even though I had no makeup on cos i'm trying to get rid of a couple of pimples, and my hair was a bit porno starrish cos of the way the hairdresser set it, i didn't care, cos I love everyone at dancing and they love me cos of how i dance and how i am, not how i look.

i sat down and started changing into my dance shoes. I kept getting interrupted cos everyone was coming up to me to kiss me. When my friend R. kissed me i saw past him that my ex was there. We made eye contact. I went back to R. and kept talking, and leant back down to finish hooking the strap in.

And then it clicked; I felt nothing. And oh my god, nothing is bliss! I actually checked again; i looked up and stared at him for a good minute. Nothing. No heart beating fast. No memories running through my head. I didn't feel like vomiting (unfortunately this feeling used to be the most common). In fact, my mind was saying 'Gee, B. get the hell over it, you love this song, don't waste it looking at him, get up and dance.'

so i did. I started dancing with one of the guys and he led me right in front of my ex and i danced and i didn't feel anything.

and i felt so right. i'm so happy i have my nose pierced and purple in my hair. it sounds ridiculous but i know that i would never have done either of those things had we stayed together. I remember the look of horror on his face after we broke up when he saw my stud... as though i'd totally gone off the rails. How ridiculous.

and this is the first entry on my public blog instead of my private about him. i am so chilled and happy.

maybe it's got to do with my weight, cos I'm now back to how much i weighed before we got together. we were together for a year and it's taken a full year to lose it all - on that thought perhaps i should stay single forever so i can stay this size... nah!

the power of words...

I am standing behind my salsa friend I., waiting to to buy an orange juice before going into the movies. I hear my message tone go off. I start to pull my phone out of my pocket.

I:Hey Bee, do you want me to just get it for you? the juice... and do you want a choctop?

Me:(opening my phone) um, yeah, get me an oj and... (i read the msg).. and (i can feel my face burn with a blush)... uhm...

I: Bee? what's wrong... oj and what? (he looks at my phone)

Me: (flipping my phone closed and actually looking around suspiciously with a goofy smile on my face, making sure no one else has seen my personal message?!) oh... uhm... (i close my eyes to try to concentrate on what i'm trying to say but the words of the message are flashing across my eyes) i'll uhm... ehh... nothing... don't get me anything.

I: Huh? Bee, just choose something, come on, OJ and?

Me: (eyes closed, still burning) Nothing! I don't want anything! (slightly manic)

I: (looking at me like i'm a lunatic) Whatever...

Me: I'm going to the toilet!

Walking to the toilet I feel suspicious of everyone, and have the crazy feeling that they might know what the personal message was that I just read.

words... just words. and that's all it takes to impress me beyond belief. and - it wasn't even a dirty message. actually if it had been, it would have had less of an effect on me.

major kudos to those who can use words to express themselves - it sounds so basic - but i have yet to meet more than a handful of guys in the world who can do it.

anyway - this was just to illustrate how it takes very little to impress us... one sentence and i can be hooked.

if i hear the word 'fidanzato' one more time...

so we picked up even more relatives from italy on the weekend... and it's great. we get to sit around and talk about gory stories like how my cousin died in the shower and flooded his apartment, how my other cousin is still going through her 7 year adoption struggle with a child from Romania... and how I'm single.

like - me being single is as bad as my cousin having a heart attack and dying in the shower (RIP Paolo - no offense). i can't see how the two can bear equal weight.

i picked up my cousin who is here doing his PHD to take him to salsa a week ago. i decided to be polite and go inside and say a quick hi to my zia. she's got a broken foot at the moment so i figured i would only be stuck talking for as long as it took for me to leave.

Zia: Bee! come stai, eh?
Me: Hi Zia, good thanks, how are you?
Zia: not bad, but you know - questo piede (motioning to her foot)
Me: yeah i know zia, i know
Zia: allora, you're taking F. out? thatsa nice. E il suo fidanzato he's going too?
Me: ah, no zia, i don't have a fidanzato
Zia: ma che?! i thoughta you hadda fidanzato... last time you had one, no?
Me: yeah but zia, not anymore
Zia: ah... ti ha lasciato?
(insert B's thoughts here - why does everyone assume HE left ME? and the fact that it's correct shits me even more!)
Me: ah yeah zia, he left me, ages ago
Zia: ah Bee, no worry, no worry... meglio che ti ha lasciato addesso invece a dopo when you married
(FOR FUCK'S SAKE... better that he left you then than after you're married)
Me: Ok zia, yeah, e' meglio, i gotta go, ciao! (ran out)
Zia: ok ciao! (oblivious to what she's just said)

bleh - that was just the beginning of what happened - it pissed me off so much i can't even tell the point of my story.

and - can i just say - why is there no word for boyfriend in Italian? he is your nothing or he is your fiancé? there's no in between. it's so embarrassing when me or my cousins bring someone who isn't italian and our relatives try to speak english and say they're so happy to meet our 'fiances'. can they not just learn the word 'boyfriend'? they manage to learn the words 'marriage', 'kitchen tea', 'hen's night' and 'honeymoon'. agh!

spoiler for sex and the city movie... and tricks of the trade for a runny nose

When I have a runny nose I wander around the house with tissue stuffed into each nostril to catch the drips. I know, it's gross, but sometimes Demazin just doesn't cut it, and unlike my ex, A., I don't want to become addicted to nasal decongestants... so i freely admit to using the tissue-stuffed-in-nostril trick.

i went to watch the Sex and the City movie tonight with my sister, C., and my cousins D. and B. I had never really watched any of the episodes but i figured i couldn't go to salsa anyway because of my cold, so I may as well head down where all the other single females were heading.

well... let me tell you, it took me all of a millisecond to rename the single girls 'Wanker Bitches.' Sometimes i swear, i'm not denying it, but i have to say i felt an incredible need to swear continuously when i saw what some of the girls were wearing to watch a stupid movie at Highpoint. Highpoint. I've never even had to use italics in any of my posts before.

there were girls in twos, threes, fours, gangs. They were loud, giving one another's groups dirty looks to try to outdo each other. There were girls who looked like they had bridal makeup on, and there were stilletos galore. There were girls wearing clothes i wouldn't even wear clubbing - clothes I wouldn't even see salsa dancers wear in professional competitions, and they wear sweet FA. I was wearing black trackies, a purple top and a scarf, which were my work clothes. were they dressed up because they thought they were going to pick up? - impossible, the only males there were the ones who were dragged by their girlfriends. Did they think it was the correct attire to wear to watch such a movie? have i already mentioned that we watched the movie at Hightpoint?!

if you think i'm exaggerating i will name just two things i saw tonight;
1- a gold shimmery backless minidress
2- a fur coat (like actual fur, not fake)

HIGHPOINT

anyway, that's why i couldn't help but call them wanker bitches. it's not the nicest term i've come up with, but it sufficed for the night.

the movie - yeah i have bones to pick with it, but i don't know what was more annoying, the excessive girly loser crap that was happening in the movie or the idiotic girls in the theatre laughing at EVERY GODDAM THING that those 4 girls said.

like Samantha is living somewhere else, not in New York. But she goes down al the time to see the other 3. the first time they see her they scream and hug her and kiss her once on each cheek and go gaga. the second time they see her they scream and hug her and kiss her once on each cheek and go gaga. the fiftieth time (mind you, i think she spends more time in NY than her home, so really who cares?) they say 'guess who's here... Samantha!' and they all scream and hug her etc etc. and the girls in the cinemas laughed every single times, just as hard the fiftieth as they did the first. it just wasn't funny - simple.

C. told me she's going to act like that every time she runs into me in the corridor at home.

now - Carrie and Big's wedding. what is wrong with 214 people? that's only 107 from each side, and it's not like their families lived overseas or they didn't have friends. and what was so good about 75? i think i had 75 people attend my last dress up party.

why don't americans have even the slightest understanding of phone etiquette? what is so hard about saying goodbye at the end of the call? Big calls Carrie the night before the wedding, he tells her he's not sure about marrying her for goodness' sake, she mumbles some crap to him and they hang up without saying goodbye. then surprise surprise he doesn't turn up to the wedding the next day.

let me explain - you should say goodbye to close the conversation. because it was unfinished he called her the next day to try to complete what was left unsaid from the night before and she didn't pick up, therefore there was no wedding. ALL BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T SAY GOODBYE.

and finally - my nose began running halfway through the movie and all i could think about was stuffing tissue up each nostril and putting myself out of my misery.

and that is why i think i'm single... because i can't work out how to stop my runny nose to the point where i cant concentrate on anything else. oh yeah, and i look seriously gross walking around with tissues sticking out of my nose.

I know that the person i end up marrying will be the person who thinks I look cute with ripped Kleenex sticking out of my runny nose.

where are my tissues?

i only like guys with big biceps

see, you read that and think that i am the most shallow person in the world.

it's not true anyway.

the truth is... i only like guys who shave their head. there, i've said it. my last two boyfriends had shaved heads, and i realised recently that i look at all guys who have hair on their heads in disgust.

i horrify myself.

i whinge and whine about people who are superficial and bitch about girls who have prerequisites about the kinds of guys they will date (needs to be taller than me, no body piercings, they can't wear gel in their hair etc etc) and i used to think that these girls should have been added to my list of people who should be shot.

but i am now one of those girls! i want to scream that i'm not... i mean, i like guys based on what they're like as people and how they interact with me and the world around them and how nice they are... AND IF THEY'RE BALD! i can't believe myself.

and what makes it even worse is that no one tells me off for feeling that way, in fact it's quite the opposite. it's more like they're encouraging me and giving the impression that i'm doing a nice thing for these bald men to single them out and be attracted to them because, let's face it, they're in the minority re: guys who are considered hot.

and it's come to the point where i embarrass myself. at dancing a couple of months ago one of my male friends split up with his long time girlfriend for a week and in that period shaved his head. my jaw literally hit the floor. it was like as if i'd never seen him before and was only truly seeing him for the first time now. i was jumbling up my words and could barely get out, 'uh, wow... uh, G., uh, when... why... i mean... when did you, uh, shave your head?' 'oh i did it last night', he replied nonchalantly. 'oh, uhm, you now... you look really good, like seriously, you... you should shave your head more often, like all the time.' by this stage my face was burning from firstly finding myself attracted to him, and secondly; being embarrassed by the fact that i suddenly couldn't speak and turned into a rambling idiot.

i'm not shallow; i deplore shallow people

i'm not superficial; i deplore those who are superficial

i'm not just into looks... but gee i like bald guys

superpoked to death

in reference to my other blog's previous post i have actually had to msn style block someone literally from my life because that's how obsessed he became with me.

in computer terms he's nudged, poked, superpoked me to death. for over one months i received mobile messages and telephone calls every day. i am such a sook when it comes to confrontation, and i think he is the only person EVER who i am making an effort to never run into again.

when i have my own country...

WARNING! IF YOU'VE NEVER READ ANY OF MY OTHER POSTS DON'T LET THIS BE THE FIRST ONE YOU READ! move onto another and come back to this later so you know i'm not a whacko. thankyou.


these will be the males that my friends and I will shoot:

cheaters. enough said.

Chris from Chris and Marie's plant farm.

guys who stand in the middle of a circle of friends and exclude others who were being polite.

Guys who can talk about themselves for 4 hours.

guys who talk about their exes on a date.

muzzas / marios

guys who boast about the number of 'chicks' they've slept with.

guys who wear skinny leg jeans.

guys who are totally cheap... stingy guys who take you to la porchetta cos they think it's fine dining. by the way, we are more than willing to pay, but we want to see that the guy would pay if we couldn't, that's all. one of my feinds has a friend who was taken to MACCAS on a date.

guys who invite you out as though there are no intentions and then turn it into a date

guys with the expectation that girls will stay at home, make babies and cook for the rest of their lives.

guys who love the good old double standard: it's ok for them to slut around but when a girl does a millionth of what they do it's the end of the world.

guys who refuse to go shopping with you. specifically, guys who are petrified of going near bras'n'things like as though they will immediately die if they enter.

guys who have their underwear sticking out and their pants' waist are under their butt cheeks and they're constantly grabbing handfulls of their pants and dragging them up their backsides to no avail.

guys who grab and rearrange their stuff in public... if we did that, what would they be thinking?

white guys who pretend that they're black... you wigga

guys who think that getting high or drunk is the only way to have fun

guys who think your face is located near your chest and who converse with your breasts.

guys who think it's ok to put their hand up your skirt when you walk past them in a crowded club.

guys who are balding, have only a few hairs on their head but still use handfulls of gel.

guys who you've told several times that the answer is NO and believe this translates to YES

stalkers. enough said

obsessive guys. quite scary.

guys who treat their cars as if they're human. sometimes, they treat them better than their girlfreinds. hmm. especially when they talk lovingly about their cars and refer to their car (inatimate object by the way) and 'her' and 'she'.

excessively hairy guys that don't do ANYTHING about it ... and expect their girls to have not one stray hair on any part of their bodies.

guys who want their girlfriends to stay skinny but who accumulate beer bellies, chubby cheeks (both ends) and that's ok

guys who blatently perve on other girls in front of their girlfriends

guys who flirt in front of their girlfriends... or any other time for that matter

guys who believe in the different postcode rule. for god's sake, it was once in an american movie and guys nowadays treat it as gospel

Liars!

guys who wear the same aftershave as my nonno

guys who go out with several girls at once and use one another as their backups.


THE FOLLOWING ARE ADDED BY MY FREINDS AND ARE NOT SUPPORTED BY ME!:

guys who have huge feet and you later find out it's false advertising

Guys who have hairy butt cheeks... trying hard to not confuse you with a monkey!

guys who permanently wear hats, we doubt they even take them off in the shower, when they do they must have a permanent hat mark

guys who have no sense of humour... were you forced to watch IT as a child? you should go get your rear ends examined as you may find a pole up there

guys who can't take it when they realise that girls are better at arcade games than they are... sorry boys but games were not made for males only, so get used to being beaten at your own game!

chauvinist pigs who talk badly about women and who are ignorant to the fact it's 2008... no offence guys but the world is no longer dominated by you (my freind also inserted here 'and we do it better cos we're smarter' but i don't believe that)

guys who are intimidated by strong independant womes and who find them a turn off... would you prefer a woman who is too scared and shy and meek to say or do anything? do you want a partner or a slave?

guys who refer to women as bitch and slut... you guys aren't god's gift to women and the sooner you realise that your brain is located in your head the better for

hello... do you like my palm?

i've never laughed so hard in my life.

D. has a socially retarded friend, C. She scares the immortal crap out of every single guy who has ever shown even the slightest interest in dating her and manages to turn them off once they've already said they'll go out on a date with her and then they back out.

i decided to come to the rescue by volunteering myself and D. for one night to take C. out... to go speed dating. I thought it would be good for C., cos not only would she actually get to the date stage, she would get 20 dates in one night.

So D. and I began researching speed dating. Neither of us had any other knowledge apart from watching that one Kath and Kim episode. So we googled it.

well.

let's just say we quickly decided that C. can never go on a date for the rest of her life and we still won't be stooping to going speed dating for her sake. after reading the kind of tips it gave to dating hopefuls (eg. 'wear deodorant') we realised that we would be in a room FULL of social retards.

observe the list below...

SIGNS SHE IS INTERESTED

Sidelong glances
Looks at him a few times
Holds his gaze briefly
She has downcast eyes, then she looks away
Touches her neck or hair
Touches her lips
Turns body towards him
Tilts her head
Narrows her eyes slightly into an eye smile
Flashes her palm
Smiles

SIGNS HE IS INTERESTED

Looks at you
Moves his body to face you
Posture changes to alert
Adjusts his tie
Puts his hand in his pocket
Dangles his hand from his belt
Slight movement of the pelvis backward
Leans towards you
Smiles
Adopts an open body posture

there are several that i could have a good laugh at, but for the purpose of this post i will only focus on one: GUYS, SHE IS INTERESTED IF SHE FLASHED HER PALM AT YOU.

what the? so after much laughter we decided to put this theory to the test at the Belgian Beer Garden on saturday night. D., my friend S., the lovely socially impaired C. and myself were there. D. and S. went first, leaving me to struggle to converse with C. at the table. 10 minutes later they ran back to us, laughing and yelling 'it worked!'

D. went up to a guy and held out her palm at chest level. he stopped talking, looked down in amazement, and D. quickly asked 'what are you thinking?' He answered, 'I think i like you!' 'Great!' cried D., walking off. 'it's just an experiment, thanks!'

the next guy gave her a high five and told her that it was the best pick up tactic he'd ever seen. She thanked him and moved on. We tried this again and again, and we had 100% success rate. I even sat down at a whole table full of guys and just presented both of my hands. Guys were breaking their necks trying to fight over who was going to have the privelige to read my palm, with the winning guy yelling 'i did a certificate in palm reading, outta my way!'

but the fact remains that guys are still dickheads because the first guy who we palmed later on threw a bottle of alcohol at a security guard who ducked. The bottle sprayed all over us and hit S. in the foot.

long walks on the beach

we were walking down lygon street and a group of guys split themselves to let us through. as we walked past, one guy put his arm around his friend's shoulder and began talking to us, 'girls! this is my friend John. John is a lovely guy. John enjoys long walks on the beach. John... (we had walked past by now) John... no? ok, well your loss.'

I then heard him begin his spiel again 2 seconds later to the next girls that walked past.

choices, choices, choices

ah the possibilities.

me and a couple of girl friends were at the spot dancing, and a guy behind my friend P. took his jacket off and held it at waist level by the shoulders and began to wave at her ass as though she was a bull. He did this all night.

so...

blinkers

people who are happily in successful relationships think it's us (me and the girls) who are the problem. That we don't give guys a chance and we should get to know them. That there are 'heaps' of single available guys so 'what's the problem then?'

as my friend S. so succinctly put it tonight... 'married people have blinkers on'

At a bar tonight S. was talking with an ex work colleague (EWC) who is married. EWC then walked S. over to the birthday boy and introduced them as follows:

EWC: S., this is Birthday Boy. He's single. Birthday Boy, this is S. She's also single.

To HRMs (Happy Relationship Morons)this situation of two people who are both single will suffice to provide a relationship. What they don't understand is all the rest that comes after you've established that the guy is single. It is nearly impossible to fight the urge to sigh and walk away mid sentence when the Single Guy is boasting about any of the following:
-his assets... my friends and I are not gold diggers and the entire topic of conversation makes me annoyed
-his assets and you know they're imaginary
-how he dates models often
-how high up he is in his company or how many people he has underneath him
-how much alcohol he can consume without passing out (yeah, that one goes down a real treat with me)

HRMs just don't get it. And i'm willing to bet my life that if HRMs thought back to when they met their other half, those ridiculous things weren't in their conversations.