April 23, 2010

The Spilling Beans

Cookie Splash II, originally uploaded by Guido Musch.

So, ok, I'll spill the beans. They simply have to be spilled, and I'm the one who needs to do it, so here we go. Even if it means I'll get my hands dirty, I'll go ahead with it.

We met, and well.. It was a huge disappointment.

I know.

It sucks. I wish I was writing very different sentences in this very moment, but alas, I'm not.

I could build this up gradually, and let it sink in just slowly that it was not at all what I thought it was going to be. Or I could just spit it out, like I just did. See, here's what happened:

It started out great. I was nervous. He was nervous. Being nervous is a good sign. Being nervous together is a great sign.

Then I fell off a chair. Literally. During our very first meeting over coffee, as we were taking each other in, one of the legs supporting the chair that I happened to be sitting on during this very crucial first-impressions-last meeting decided to give in, cave, and make the chair tip over, and me with it. Gah!

In a way it was good. Quite the ice breaker, let me tell you that much. We both laughed, and it was a good laugh. In other words, I survived.

What followed after was not as fun.

See, to begin with, I lost my head. It went away, and I still don't know where. I could not find my way around the city anymore, let alone the nearest subway entrance. It was all together very confusing as I'm used to having a pretty well functioning head on my shoulders. It was gone. Maybe it decided to stay with the chair at the coffee house, I don't know.

Anyway, so I was doing my best to act according to the confident and self respecting person as I know myself to be, but to no avail. I was gone. I think he picked up on it. I think he may have made use of it.

This is when I started noticing that things were not going in the direction I had hoped for. The direction that had actually made me get on a plane to NY to meet him half way. (Oh, ladies: If a man doesn't offer to go ALL the way to see you over where you are (should you happen to be geographically apart), but instead insists on meeting half way, please do forget about it. If he's serious, he'll come see you. Trust me. I learned my lesson. Feel free to disagree, but I'm going to stick to this one hard learned lesson. Maybe it's because it meant a transatlantic flight for me, a domestic for him. Hmm.).

I don't know why. I don't know how. But I do know that I ended up feeling really, really misled, and most probably my dear reader, I believe this fantastic thing called human imagination played a big part in the whole story.

See, he seemed so great. Funny. Bright. Spot on. Admirable. Too good to be true.

Just like most of you probably would have, I too would have wished that he was the One. Now I'm more reverting to the thought of One being a song by U2 and nothing more. Rendered to greatness but Johnny Cash nonetheless, but still, just a song.

There's no real point in digging too much into the details of the whole thing as that is not going to benefit anyone. But if I mention severe communication problems, bills for two left to be payed by me(!), not once, but numerous times, lack of interest in actually getting to know me, bringing friends on each and every one of our supposed dates and so on, I think you get the picture. I mean, have you ever had dinner with someone so generally rude that even the other restaurant goers around you react? It was a first for me, but amazingly enough, it's possible. And then I haven't even mentioned the worst parts, so you go ahead and do the math.

We parted as friends. Mainly because he wouldn't understand what I was going on about when I said that this was going nowhere and that I had expected something different. I gave up and ended up hanging out out of a sense of obligation. Shame on me. We were both in NY after all, and my part-catholic-related guilt made itself known and fully present.

But inside, I knew I should have acted my own hero and told him off for all those things that made my heart and head churn a little bit for each little dismal move he made. I didn't. I let myself down. And that's actually the biggest regret I have about this whole episode. Not the 'failing' of a possible romance of the centuries, not the mismatch, not the not having great news to share with friends and blog readers. None of that. But that I didn't stand up for myself in a moment I really, really should have, that's what I regret. For some mysterious reason, I felt powerless and fell silent. A crime.

But you know, never mind then risk taking. Never mind the failing and making mistakes. I'm all for that. In fact, I think without that, life is like a one sided coin. It's worth it. Totally worth it. Because one day, it might actually not be a frog standing there laughing as you just fell off a chair, but a real prince. Or at least someone who's going to pay for your coffee. And that's kind of cool, don't you think?

I learned a huge amount of tidbits from this episode:

1) I am not perfect and will not ever strive to be.

2) Scratch that, I am perfect, and so are you. We are all perfect, just the way we are.

3) I will not ever try to be something else than what I am, for anyone.

4) I'm never again paying for oysters I did not order. Ever.

Now, any words of encouragement are obviously really welcome here, so please, do get going in the commentary section, be my guests!

Flickr Beans

April 7, 2010

I Didn't Want To Jinx It, And So I Didn't Write About It.

But maybe I should have. Sharing is caring and the other way around, so maybe I should have. Would things have been different if so? I doubt it. So, how were they then? Really?

I found myself in an airport, with a ticket in my hand and butterflies packed neatly into my suitcase.

Going to New York was not the big deal here, I had done that a million times before. It was the reason for why I was going. Him.

It was his idea to begin with. Not that I didn’t think it was a great one, but I feel that it is important for me to point out that he wanted this to happen, more and faster than I had expected.

And so we decided to meet up in New York. Far from both of us, close enough to make a weekend out of it.

I wish New York was neutral ground for me. It would have been so perfect if it was. But it isn’t, and there’s nothing that’s going to change that. Ever. I lived ten lives in New York. At least. So the canvas was not blank, but rather colored in a multitude of shades from experiences past. Maybe it was better that way.


How do I do this? I’m going to go to the details.


April 6, 2010

The Girl Who Flew To New York And Fell Off A Chair

Outside-In, originally uploaded by k.james.

So what actually happened with the Guy? Remember this? And this?

Well, we met. Again.

We made it happen. Like two grownups, we decided to take fate into our own hands and make sure that nothing was left to destiny. Just about nothing.

This is a blogging caramel I should savor and savor, but part of me just wants to spit it right out. However, that’s not what I’m planning on doing, by any means, so therefore, sit back and enjoy.
Here comes the recollection of a tale never told, it’s about a girl. A girl who flew to New York and fell off a chair.
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