Poulet avec soupe aux oeufs et au citron

Rapid eye movements

Last night she came to my dreams. We were talking and laughing. She was very sweet with me. It reminded me of the good times we have spent with each other. I really miss those moments.

Those moments lately were rare. It was mostly shouting, crying, not talking to each other, saying things to hurt each other. To be honest though, I don’t remember those moments so vividly and that is bad because remembering only the good times makes me want to call her and ask her back.

I am lonely without her, the people around me just don’t feel the gap she left behind.

Does she miss me?

The Augean stables

So I was talking to this girl last night. She is not exactly a spring chicken, she was in her late thirties. Even though she is single and living in a small flat she was complaining that she desperately needs a cleaner and a dish washer because she doesn’t clean.

I don’t get it. Why doesn’t she clean? Who enjoys living in their own filth? I work long hours, about 12 a day but still I manage to clean my flat. Ok, if you come with a white glove you might find some dust on a corner behind the fridge but I do clean. I do the dishes, do laundry, clean the floors, windows, toilet, bath etc. And I try to keep it tidy. If anyone wants to inspect it, please be my guest.

Women don’t have to be slaves to the men of this world but if it is your flat… clean the damn place.

After my break up I have retrospectively realised that my ex was also not very tidy. She was not working for the last year and as soon as I was coming home she was complaining that she was cleaning the whole day. But the flat was always just a bit messy. I couldn’t say the flat looks shit. Here I had this amazing woman who was saying she was tired from cleaning all day. How could I complain? I was thankful. I thought it was my fault that the flat looked like that, even though I was not spending too much time in it. I didn’t do something different back then as I am doing now. How could it be that even though I haven’t changed the flat is much cleaner now? I know… she was doing shit all day. She was spending all her time chatting on skype, checking people on facebook and going shopping.

Mild progeria

The Oxford English Dictionary defines “normal” as “conforming to a standard”.

I have always considered myself to be normal. I wear plain clothes, don’t have any tattoos or piercings, I like normal musik, no death metal and such, I am no goth, emo or metrosexual. I am not gay, I like girls. I am not a vegetarian but I don’t hate vegetables either. I do eat them. I don’t have any weird fetishes, I don’t suck on toes in my spare time or drink piss from a cup. My house is normal, no black walls, no incense sticks burning on the coffee table. I live alone and pay my rent in advance. I have a decent car, 4 doors, middle class. I am not in love with myself, don’t spend hours in front of a mirror. I did go to uni but I was never the best in my year. I did ok. Got a decent job. I have short “salt and pepper” hair and I don’t shave every day. Nothing fancy really…

But is this the standard now a days?

Maybe I should become more bohemian, with rasta hair, become a vegetarian with baggy trousers and a nose ring. I won’t have normal sex, only threesomes, reaching nirvana while listening to budda bar music. I won’t be going on holidays, only on “travels” with a backpack and a sleeping bag hanging from the side. How about spending half of my time on chatroulette with my private parts showing on webcam? Maybe I should become a body builder, shave my chest hair, wear a suit everyday and part my hair to the side. Or even shave my head, wear a flat brim hat, pull my baggy trousers down so that everyone can see my calcin klein underwear, start beatboxing and begin every sentense with the word “Yo”.

Cause I do see these people and they are everywhere. So if they are the standard, that means they define the “normal”. I don’t notice people that I consider normal. Well I actually do, but they are in their sixties.

Has fixation to normality caused me to be abnormal?

I think the answer is actually much simpler than that. Normal people are hidden away in the simplicity and perplexity of their normal lives.

On impudence

A friend of mine who moved to another town recently invited himself over for the weekend! He is on his way. I am in no fucking mood to accomodate people by the way.

On top of that he had the nerve to ask me if it is ok to bring a friend over so that we can drink a couple of beers. My beers. MY fucking beers. And NO it is not ok to invite your friends over to my apartment while you are a fucking guest yourself. What the fuck man? I said “we are going out”.

If he pulls a girl later on will he hang a tie on the door? I can walk around the block till he is done. Sure why not? Maybe he can use my bed as well, it is more comfortable.

And it has to be said that he smokes but never buys cigarettes cause mine are free. I am going to punch this guy, I can feel it.

Mind the gap between the train and the platform

2 days ago I was dragging my weight on the pavements of Oxford Street.

I honestly fell in love 450 times during that day. The women were awfully beautiful.

I am no stranger to England. After all I have spent 7 years of my life there but never have I noticed the beauty of the English girls. Could it be that they changed so much in the 2 years that I have left the island? Unlikely… Maybe I was going through life with horse blinders.

P.S. A special thank you going out to a beautiful girl in Oxford Circus with long black hair, milky skin and perfect light green eyes that walked up to me and gave me a smile. I could stare in those eyes for ever. (I will never forgive myself for not opening my mouth but I was caught off guard).

Mirror Mirror on the wall, was she the fairest of them all?

Went to a party last night. It was wild. Talked to a bunch of women, kissed a couple… nothing much. But at the end of the evening, I came home alone and disappointed. No one was perfect like she used to be.

Retrospectively I think I developed a kind of love for my ex-girlfriend similar to the one a parent has towards their newborn. It doesn’t matter if the baby is fucking ugly because to a mother, it will always be the most beautiful baby ever. She was indeed perfect in my eyes.

I know I am not exactly the most good looking man, and the room doesn’t light up when I walk in, but last night every girl had something that bothered me.

Too fat

Too wrinkly

Too big of a nose

Too thin lips

Too small tits

Too hairy

Too stupid

Too self-absorbed

Too drunk

Too easy

Too fucking easy? Can’t believe I said that. I was hoping the whole night to find a girl, but when a girl kissed me and was wispering bullshit in my ear, I left.

Came home last night and said to myself “no fucking second category bitch is coming inside my flat”.

Why not wait for Miss Perfect? Why should I settle on this?

Oh, boy. I am in deep shit.

The thrown pies

Flirted a bit this week for about 3 days with a woman. She was gorgeous… (she is after all a model). My best friend advised that I should probably not ask her out cause she will turn me down or as he weirdly put it “She will throw you a pie”!

Well, I did ask her out and now I am eating my pie… Her reply was very subtle. I won’t go into details. 

This doesn’t matter. Not one bit. Can’t blame a man for trying can you?

But what is important here is that I have realised that I CAN talk to women, I CAN flirt with them. I will get dumped and rejected a million times but what the hell, it’s all part of the game isn’t it? 

LET THE GAMES BEGIN. 

It has been a month.

Che fece …. il gran rifiuto (C.Kavafis, 1901)

Today I received a letter. Once my read the address of the sender, my heart skipped a beat. I opened it carefully and waited… I didn’t know what I was hoping to find inside.

What if there was a letter inside saying she missed me? The thought pleased and frightened me. I know this would never work but how can I simply erase 10 years? The 10 most important years of my life. I was a boy then and an old man now. I was confused. I finally got the courage to open it.

I guess I didn’t have to go through these feelings. Reality set in. It was just a letter I have to send to the bank. Just that. My feelings are difficult to describe with words, but maybe it’s for the best. During the last month, I ripped out my heart with my own hands. It needed to be done. It had to be done.

Maybe it’s for the best, I didn’t need this right now. The absence of her letter might speed up my recovery. Obviously some people can move on faster than others. It’s more difficult if you are not around your friends and family, living in your old apartment, in a foreigh country, sleeping next to her side of the bed. I am glad she doesn’t have to go through this. I will get there too, for that I am sure. I just need to do it in my own time. Let’s hope this process won’t last long.

the Lightness of Being

I’m drunk.

So… you want to go for a coffee or something?

I know I need to get out there and meet new people but after being used to having someone I can tell you it is not easy. I am turning 30 and all of my friends and family are not only married, they are making babies.

So, how can I meet people of the opposite sex? Everyone tells me “Dude, you need to go out there, bars, clubs and shit…”. First of all, I would never go in a bar (or club or shit) alone. It’s just not me. And most importantly I ain’t the guy women have one night stands with. Not the type that women fall in love on first sight. I know that, I have accepted that. 

So my other option is to ask women out that already know me. For the time being that means women I work with (since I don’t have any female friends) and there aren’t that many that I would bare to see first thing in the morning since the vast majority of them are redefining “ugly”.

So for simplicity matters, lets just say that there are 3, max 4 women I am willing to ask out. I am so uncool on hitting on women, I would even turn me down to be honest. Anyhow, I thought I shall give it a go. Being a gentleman (that’s right) I thought I would throw the ball in her side of the court and see if she will throw the ball back! Smart? Not really but we are taking baby steps here remember?

It went down something like this:

(After a five minute discussion with giggles and stuff)

-So… you want to go for a coffee or something?

-Hm… yes ok.

-Cool, I’ll give you my cell number and you can give me a ring later when you have some time.

That was 2 days ago! No call, no text message, nothing. I got the hint. Not only she didn’t bounce the ball back, she took my ball and left.

I hate putting myself out there. I hate it. I hate giving women the pleasure of rejection. Cause it is true they get a kick out of it.

My grandmother used to say “men are beggars, you need to ask 10 to find one”. Wise lady. Finding a partner follows for men and women the 80/20 rule. And I explain in case some people reading this are simple. 80% of women can find a man anytime anyplace. For the other 20%, men have to use beer. It works in exactly the opposite way with men. 20% of men get 80% of the women.

Oh well…