City kitty's insights

Now what?

2010-08-23T22:49:00.002+02:00

Next week is already here but the new guy clammed up. He hasn't emailed back since last Thursday. WTF? He said he is very keen to reveal his identity, in fact he can "hardly wait". To which I wrote that I hope it is not going to be too 'apocalyptic'. Explanation: he wrote me a few emails back that Apocalypse actually means "the lapel drops", i.e. truth is revealed. Now 1/ he either doesn't remember his own email, 2/ can't make the connection and he is hurt by my strong wording, 3/ got cold feet about meeting, 4/ met someone else, 5/ busy and/or 6/ his internet crashed. Whatever it is, I don't care. I am annoyed slightly but had enough of guys with over-sized egos where I always feel like I have to walk on eggshells so as not to offend the delicate senses of a Great Artist. I want Normal. Oh, well. Not normal, but somewhat more normal, someone who is capable to carry on a quasi-normal relationship.

Looking forward to next week

2010-08-21T11:14:00.002+02:00

It has been awhile... and it was good to reread my entries. I completely forgot new year's resolution, which was to pick lover wisely. It seems I am ready to move on, after all.

I have been corresponding with a guy, A, since March, and we finally agreed to meet. I am afraid I was initiating it but got the clue (or cue?) from him as he said "this" is such an important topic I touched on that he is not even sure this can be discussed in emails. Another guy very sensitive to rejection, I guess.

He claimed to be an accomplished film director but he said he couldn't tell me his name as most people would assume he is loaded with money, and that is just not the case. He promised me to introduce himself with his full name when we meet (probably next week). Actually, my sister, being the nosy and clever one with the internet searches (till now I thought I am the best but I have to concede her superiority when it comes to finding people rather than concepts or objects), figured out who the guy is. He is indeed accomplished. But I have to keep this info under wraps, unless the guy thinks I am stalking him (even if he is stalked by my sister :-)).

He is a very interesting and smart guy but hasn't shared one bit about his personal/love life. I guess, that is not a very good sign. I made vague references to mine but never asked explicit questions about his personal life and he never volunteered. In any case, he is probably not an easy man to deal with. As Gypsy (on Fcupid) told me once, they are the hardest cases when it comes to love. Artists, that is. And this one is a serious artist.

I was thinking to tell him right up front that I am interested only in a serious relationship but then realized that I am being defensive, based on my previous bad experiences with B (another artist, a really talented musician). How interesting, before B I never dated an artist. I was hardly aware of their existence, at all. As I am in the sciences, those were the people I was mostly familiar with. The whole new world of art and artists started to unfold only when I was living in New York. (I even had a serious crush on a gay pianist whose orientation I had not suspected till he told me about it.)
I actually came across some Agony Aunt's boyfriend's wisdom about women like me. He said he identified the 3 biggest mistakes women make in their relationships: 1. Guys aren't looking for the same things in a relationship as women; 2. overwhelm the man with their attention; 3. being overly defensive and aggressively demanding exclusivity on the 2nd, 3rd, etc date, in a word, too early. As he said, he never started out with a woman with the purpose of hurting that woman's feelings by not living up to the woman's expectations (I guess, it just happened that way, anyway).

Yesterday I was reading about Baudelaire, the Madame he was courting anonymously (writing the most beautiful love poems to her), then later on revealing his identity (also, after publishing named poems with others in the "Flowers of Evil"). As soon as Madame declared her own unconditional love for him, he was done with her. That was enough for him. What a fascinating story, what a screwed-up guy. Poets. World famous ones. What else can one expect?

Progressing towards a liberated heart and soul

2010-03-10T23:22:00.003+01:00

It has been more than a month that I posted here. I feel I did a lot of progress. After much thinking and initial drafts I finally wrote a letter to B on Feb 21, saying that I feel I am losing my self-respect always being the one to call. I explained to him that I was obsessing about him ever since that initial encounter in his apartment in 2008 September even though his comments always sent after such encounters made it pretty clear that he had no romantic notions about me. But, after finally inviting him to my apartment with the explicit purpose of consuming the relationship I found that my obsession finally came to an end. Therefore I don't need him anymore. If he wants to get together he'll have to initiate it as I am not going to call him.

That was more or less metaphoric speech as he doesn't even have my phone number. That was one thing that upset me last time, when he told me that he wanted to call me on his way to me (telling me he would be late) and he realized that he didn't have my number. I have this new number since November and when I tried to call him for the first time he actually called me back BECAUSE he didn't know who it was. When he did find out it was 'only' me he lost the incentive even to record my number.

Anyway, he of course didn't call, nor did he respond to my email. Which is fine, as I don't expect him to call or write. What I did, I did for myself, to finally have a peace of my mind and regain my self-respect. I did both, and I really don't miss him.

I had similar men in my life in the past. One who stands out is P, whom I had just before J, my long-term lover. P was very similar in many ways to B. He was on the rebound, a term or state of mind I didn't know at the time, so I dived into that relationship full frontal, not knowing what to expect. P told me once that he 'doesn't want to fall in love and have babies and family'. Nor did he ever suggest otherwise. The only gentle gesture not related to sex I can ever remember of was him kissing my forehead once in front of a pub we went to with another friend/colleague/housemate of ours (we all lived our single lives in an apartment building provided by the institute - a hot-house of all sorts of permutations between boys and girls - but only hetero, as far as I know). Even now, reconnecting after many years both him and me spending several of those abroad, and socializing fairly frequently with him and his new wife and family, we never talk about the past.

Once I asked P if it ever bothers his wife that we had a relationship in the past. He said he didn't think so. But that was it, we didn't bring up the subject again. It was like never talking about it either then or now, it hardly existed at all. Only on a physical level and talking about it would bring it to a different level - which is taboo. It would be almost like cheating on his wife? I don't know but it is very strange. Either him or me is an emotional retard. Possibly both of us.

In addition I brought up the subject because I wanted to tell him about B. P wanted me to get pot from him. He challenged me at least twice to get it. So interesting, how one bad guy (bad for me, that is) connects me to another. Even stranger that P originally was brought to my attention by Z, with whom I had a brief romance during my university years. He recommended P as free man as he knew about P's impending divorce. The unifying theme of these three is that they all wanted me for a friend mostly. With benefits. Admittedly, they didn't love me. If only then I would have had the insight I have now...

Quitting addiction cold turkey

2010-02-05T01:13:00.002+01:00

Today I tried to record how many times I was thinking about this guy. Now that I decided I finally break all contact with him and give up on the idea of 'taming' him into boyfriend material. He is 'no boyfriend material' for me, anyway, as he once told me in no uncertain terms, by email.

Basically, I thought of him about every 3 minutes, or so. J called in the evening and he told me about his sister's marriage. I never knew the story. She was married to a guy for 16 years. They were real sweethearts together, an exemplary, happy couple, everyone's favorite role model. Then after 16 years of marriage J's sister decided that she had had it with the guy. He doesn't even fold the laundry properly as she realized (she was a high-school teacher, he was apparently an educated person, too), and she just wanted out of the marriage. So she divorced him. Later on she bitterly regretted her move. She never found another man as nice and sweet as him. And he remarried.

After we hung up, about 50 minutes later, I realized this was the longest time today that I didn't think about B. Why did I get so hooked on him, despite so little having happened between us and even less positive? I was thinking all day about that, too. It must be my masochistic tendencies that took over. My love addiction.

I have a love addiction. I haven't had an attack (or binge?) for at least 17 years so it was hard even to realize what I got myself into, it was such a long time ago that I suffered from this. And B is clearly a narcissist. According to some theory love addicts always get hooked on narcissists because it is such a strongly fitting bad pattern.

It is good to realize at least that one is not alone with this problem. I found this on the internet:

Obsessed Love Addicts: OLAs cannot let go of someone they love, even if their partner is:

Unavailable emotionally or sexually
Afraid to commit
Unable to communicate
Unloving
Distant
Abusive
Controlling and dictatorial
Ego-centric
Selfish
Addicted to something outside the relationship (hobbies, drugs, alcohol, sex, someone else, gambling, shopping etc)

Narcissistic Love Addicts: NLAs use dominance, seduction and withholding to control their partners. Unlike codependents, who accept a lot of discomfort, narcissists won’t put up with anything that interferes with their happiness. They are self-absorbed and their low self-esteem is masked by their grandiosity. Furthermore, rather than seeming to obsess about the relationship, NLAs appear aloof and unconcerned. They do not appear to be addicted at all. Rarely do you even know that NLAs are hooked until you try to leave them. Then they will no longer be aloof and uncaring. They will panic and use anything at their disposal to hold on to the relationship—including violence. Many professionals have rejected the idea that narcissists can be love addicts. This may be because they rarely come in for treatment. However, if you have ever seen how some narcissists react to perceived or real abandonment, you will see that they are indeed “hooked.”

B definitely has low self-esteem as he told me on that night when he cried out his eyes for the 20 years younger girl, who had abandoned him. But I doubt B will do anything to hold me back, which is just as well, as I finally want to put this idea of me and him being ever together behind me.

But today was definitely hard. And yesterday too. (I was nursing my hangover all day.)

Belly dance for him

2010-02-03T22:24:00.002+01:00

Yesterday B was here again. Last time before we parted he told me to call him some time if I want to get together with him again. So I called him up and we agreed on Tuesday.

The problem started with the joint. He had only this one left, so we smoked it, me more enthusiastically than I should have. Other times I got into a real good mood with B and then we usually fooled around. However, yesterday something strange happened. When he went to the bathroom (and left the door ajar) I heard a cellphone sound. So I suddenly thought - is he texting someone or checking someone's calls while with me? It was definitely a paranoid thought. I heard pot capable of inducing paranoia before but never experienced it. But I didn't say anything.

Instead, he asked me to dance for him, so I put on a sexy skirt and pulled up my shirt so my belly would show. Found appropriate music on youtube, too. I took a belly dance course while unemployed in New York, and I am naturally a good dancer anyway as my body is very flexible. He duly developed an erection (he was wearing soft material so I could see it). But instead of kissing me (I guess, I could have initiated it), he stroked my body in a nice way but then proceeded to place me on the couch in a doggie style position.

This and my suspicions about his phone calls suddenly obliterated my desire. I jumped up and sat close to him (he is rather deaf) and asked him point blank if he was checking on his phone while in the bathroom. He said, "no, did my phone ring?", checked his phone and told me it must have been mine. Then I started to ask him about his 'story' since his divorce about 7 years ago. He told me he had only 2 sexually intense relationships, with the 20 years younger girl and I guess, the other one was with his wife. And that he doesn't "have another girlfriend". Ah, how sweet.

But my paranoia didn't subside and the main reason was that recently I noticed he was emailing several hours a day. I actually made him invisible to me in one account, but then kept logging in to my other account, as I just had to see. I am very obsessive, you know. To the point that he realized I was "stalking" him. He actually mentioned yesterday that he corresponds with a lot of friends in the US, apparently to calm me down.

But this was not the only sign - around Xmas I called him to arrange for a get-together and he said let's not do it at his place as his neighbor is always listening in on him (hah, another stalker!). I said ok, then he sent me an email on the day, saying 'he has very high fever and can't do it'. Then, I, being the person I am (I actually was diagnosed with OCD while working at Yale) gave him a few phone calls in the following days. OK, it might not even be that strange of me to try to reach him, if we think about it. And his cell was turned off. Damn. I thought he is corresponding with a woman in the US and now she came over to visit him. How sweet.

After the strained discussion about his relationships (nonexistent) we started to chat about a lot of BS, like the traffic on my street and such crucial topics. I showed him my sketches of nude models and he said he would be quite happy if he could draw like me. Always the "Me". The me, the me, the me. Rarely 'you'. Why? Ah, ok, he is just another self-absorbed artist type.

What really strikes me is my own thinking and how much I can distort it or how differently unfold the conversations from what I had imagined before. I was hoping to talk honestly about his sexual relations, and also mine so we could eliminate the condoms, that he tried to use in vain last time ("three blanks", as he said). And that I also would tell him about my ongoing and I guess, never-ending love for J, who treats me to the best restaurants when he is here and just tries to please in as many ways as he can think of. And that I would suggest him (B) that we have a 'poly-amorous' relationship, in which both parties date other people. The main difference is, instead of cheating on your partner you are honest and upfront about your parallel relationship with them. This way you are supposed to be more grounded as you don't have to suffer the sudden loss of the only partner you have when you break up. I was actually thinking to speak about this to him before we smoke pot as I didn't want to feel stupid while having a serious discussion like this.

Well, I guess, I failed it. My own plans. I couldn't even get his opinion on this as I didn't get to the point when I could have explained this concept to him at all. Damn. Is it my fault? I guess, not completely. B looked just so bored last night when I tried to tell him about anything that that itself became an impediment.

Or, it is possible that I can't bear the thought of another woman? But that is not true, after all, J has had a parallel woman ever since I had him. True, it was very hard in the beginning but somehow I managed to accept this situation as the best we could ever have.

No, I don't even think B would be interested in such an arrangement. Anyway, why do I even wonder about this now?

As for the rest of the evening, here is the 'finale'. Around midnight B got up from his chair and said he should go. I got upset and tried to hug him and even set on his lap in a suggestive pose to make him change his mind. But he didn't. He didn't even want to smoke a cigarette with me. So I let him out, and a minute later he came back knocking on my door saying he can't get out. So told him about red button to push. Then I went to bathroom and he was back in another minute hitting my door real hard so I had to shout out to him saying I'd be there in a minute. It was a bit scary. So I put on a coat and let him out through the gate after pushing the red button for him. I thanked him rather sarcastically for "not breaking into my apartment".

After he left my first thought was a huge, huge relief. Why was I poisoning my life with this guy for 1.5 years? What a relief not having to think about such a narcissistic, self-absorbed artist type? Did he sweeten my life ever? Oh, ok, to be honest, he did, sometimes. He made me dress better. And he made me feel better about my body, as he always praised it. And took a lot of photos of it. Not that I am not aware I have a nice body, kind of, but nobody ever told me before my tits were so precious. At the age of 45! Thanks, B. Too bad, you will never be honest about your affairs. Just as my sister predicted. OK, I am done with you, it seems.

On to greener pasturs...

Exposing yourself

2010-01-21T00:36:00.002+01:00

It is a strange genre - to share the details of your intimate or inner life. I had a dream lately (since I wrote the latest blog entry) - a bad one - where someone abused my confidence (perhaps they sold my pictures? :-)) and I attacked the person - I think it was actually a woman.

But on a more general level I am just wondering how people who write a book about such intimate happenings and inner thoughts in their own lives survive the whole world finding out/learning about them? I guess nothing could make them happier at that point, for the obvious reason. Maybe only the first steps are hard to take?

B actually told me he had written a book. Did you? I asked him. Didn't I tell you? came the answer. He actually did but he still was writing it when he mentioned it for the first time - more than a year ago. Then I asked him what period of time it covered as I remembered he told me it was going to be a novel - autogbiographical. At that point he got strangely embarrassed "let's not talk about me" and asked me instead about my work. A very strange move, as he just loves to talk about himself endlessly. Am I in that book I started to wonder. I'll ask him if I can read the manuscript. Not that I am that controlling - but I'd be interested to see myself on the pages of a literary work. B actually has a very articulate voice when it comes to self-expression.

J just called me and we talked about Baby Doc and the pyramids he ended up seeing - while he was driving home from his college - about an hour's drive over which he usually talks to me on the phone. I started to appreciate him more since I ventured into this dalliance with B - when I get totally fed up with his scoundrelry ways (if it happens) I still will have J. It is a pleasant thought.

Kiss and tell

2010-01-18T23:27:00.002+01:00

It feels kind of quiet here like no one is actually reading my blog. Just as well, then I'll spill the beans. Being the enfant terrible I am.

It is about one of new year's resolution. Picking lovers. Wisely. I am not sure about the wisdom thing but I got a lover. Emphatically not a boyfriend or a sweetie, more along the lines of a sexpartner. Not that we don't have anything in common in other areas of life so I might judge this thing a little too severely. But this is the guy who told me about 10 times already that he couldn't have a committed relationship with me as he couldn't be faithful to me. Last time he put this in writing I did not respond in kind. I obfuscated and thanked him for being honest. I just didn't feel the need to denigrate myself again by expressing either negative or positive feelings about this.

Nor did I explain on Thursday why I chose to become lovers with him. Even though he mentioned it briefly, giving voice to his surprise that I decided this way. It just felt the natural thing to do. I can't even explain it to myself - or not quite. But I remember the touching song he played me the last time I was at his place: "only those can hurt you, you love". Well, I guess, he can't hurt me anymore. Nor do I require him to be faithful to me - nor do I want to promise him the same thing. Is that promise-cuous? I hope not.

I feel good about what happened and good about myself too. And my body. He keeps taking pictures in intimate moments. At various stages of undress. I told him he could actually sell those pictures if he can and keep the money - I'll keep the fame. Who would not be happy about this happening at the age of 45? 20 - that is a different issue. I have only one picture from that age - my red blouse and jacket all unbuttoned (I didn't wear a bra in those years), me smiling innocently into the camera. My nipples just barely escape showing. It was taken by my long-term boyfriend at the time scanned over the years by a mutual friend. He showed it to me recently (the friend) and after my initial shock I asked him to email it to me. Later I sent it to my long-term lover - he thought it was hot. He still worships me after 16 years. He grounded me in many ways, you see.

Watching films with a poet

2010-01-10T23:01:00.003+01:00

The other day I went to a poet's contest with my sister, who is a practicing poet and met C, a historian-scholar-poet whom we had been watching from time to time because of his curious appearance/looks. He always sneaks in places like he doesn't really belong there so he is often mistaken for a homeless guy.

So the other day he sneaked in to this contest, and as we were sitting close to the door and might have been smiling at him he chatted us up. What kind of fairies we are, he wanted to know and we told him we are mountain fairies. Which is pretty close to the truth, as our name means mountain.

Today I went to a movie theater with him where we watched documentaries about recent changes in Hungarian society. Sadly, the poet is fickle - he is a perpetuum mobile. At one point I touched his elbow accidentally with mine as I wanted to put it on the arm of the chair. From then on he turned into a fickle hunter, watching out for more signs, to see if I wanted some physical closeness. For chrissake, I did not! I finally put my bag on my lap, which settled the issue.

In the intermission he suggested we go to a nearby pub to have a drink. We went, and had two spritzers (200ml wine, 100ml soda water), for about 40 cents each. Wow, this guy has some invaluable knowledge of the terrain. I always wanted a friend like this. It turned out he is not homeless after all, even if he smells like one. He rents a room close to my workplace. Ouch. I hope he washes his clothes before he decides to pay a visit to my office...

Picking lovers wisely

2010-01-09T16:14:00.002+01:00

As I said this is going to be my new new year's resolution. For me it seems to be a problem, I don't know how others manage. Ideally, you wouldn't have to have such a resolution as you'd already have one lover from the old year and that would be good enough for this new one, too.

Last year I don't think I picked them wisely. There was one picking from the previous year, and that was definitely not picked wisely. It is (was) a low-key romance with B, who seems to be a bit of a nutcase. I blogged about him already before somewhere else. In short, I made the mistake of walking with him to his apartment after one date in 2008 upon his invitation of smoking pot. I had no idea pot is so strong these days! (Same for the character played by Meryl Streep in the movie "It is complicated".) We smoked pot and then we were staring in each other's eyes for a few minutes. After telling each other personal stories. It is a recipe of how to fall in love with someone. I did fall in love with him on due course but B didn't.

Ever since when I see him we always smoke pot. And then kiss. And then his disclaimer that he doesn't think he can be faithful to me, even though he is not sure why. Even though he thinks I am very attractive. I think I have an inkling now: this guy behaves in Bp like a kid in a candyshop. At least that is my impression after I looked at the available women in the American state he is from. With all due respect, women are much prettier in this country than in his native KY. Probably more available, too. And more desperate? Certainly history never dealt us a decent fate in the last 4-500 years and that might show in women's attitude towards men of more fortunate countries. I know it is a bit of a radical thought but wouldn't exclude it as an explanation.

Anyway, I don't think I'd want to be faithful to B either. He told me last time that he had not lived with a woman for such a long time that he is not sure he could do that again. Living together was not on my agenda either and I told him. Nevertheless he sent me an email afterwards reasserting his standpoints. Why does he do that to me? "I don't want you to invest a lot of emotions in this relationship then get hurt." Perhaps by stating this he also reassures himself that it would be an option? For him. I am his security blanket. In a way. Because he is very insecure in himself. Although he doesn't want to give me anything, he still wants to pretend that *I* am ready to give that to him, if he so chooses.

No-no, not so fast!

New Year, new resolutions

2010-01-09T16:06:00.003+01:00

My last year's resolution was to be less confrontational with people that are important to me (and also in general). I pretty much succeeded at it, whether by design or accident, I am not sure. This year's resolution is to pick my fights/confrontations wisely, with a goal in my mind. I am not even sure why I insist on my resolutions revolving around confrontation. Thanks God, this problem subsided altogether. I probably should add: to pick my lovers wisely, too.

Cold turkey

2009-11-30T20:56:00.003+01:00

What do Americans call the aftermath of Turkey Day? Cold turkey? I bet not. It would be unjust of me, too, to call it that, or rather, it wouldn't do justice to the man and our relationship. J was here, we had fun, we had some disagreement that was resolved and he left yesterday. I was left with some emptiness in my heart. I am a bit melancholic, which is not an unusual feeling after he leaves but this time I feel also blue because I feel the loss of some feelings between the two of us. He was the love of my life.

Anyway, I have to quit musing, I have a young French suitor to write to. He thinks I might have gotten killed in the university shooting of Pecs. How global we turned, in more than one ways.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-24T15:05:00.002+01:00

My old BF is coming over for a long weekend to visit. He picked of all the occasions Thanksgiving, this most sacred of American holidays. A lot of people asked me, upon telling them, "is his wife coming with him?". I had to laugh this question off, in all its naivety, but it still got to me. They must have very little common ground by now, that J chose to spend it with me. I was a bit shocked myself. I am looking forward to his visit, but not without some anxiety. I hope all is going to be well.

From the web: Diary of a Heretic: The Underground Nest

2009-07-19T01:16:00.002+02:00

I have no idea how I accidentally pulled this from the net but I'll keep it here, now that I have already two comments. Anyway, as you might have guessed even without me saying so, it was not written by me. But I kind of liked it.

Diary of a Heretic: The Underground Nest

Shared via AddThis

Nicole Revisited Revisited

2009-07-17T00:17:00.000+02:00

Dickie again doesn't let me comment on his post. So here we go again (doing it in my blog). (Scroll down for the prequel.)

Regarding Big Gulps, you just don’t bring them on dates. It looks tacky and cheap and I’m pretty sure it violates the international rules of dating and decorum as decreed by the UN Charter. You just don’t bring big gulps into Starbucks. It’s just totally weird. This was not however the showstopper. It just bothered me a little.

I offer Nicole and plenty of women like her reciprocity. I can give women like this love that they would never dream possible.

In theory, maybe. But you admit later on that she scares you. How could you give your love to someone who looks scary to you? Even in theory? Or are we talking about other girls who similarly rejected you because of monetary issues?

Entertainment. Stimulating conversation. Excitement. Adventure. I can show them what it truly means to be alive. I am fairly convinced that most of the Nicole’s of this world will never find a Dickie. Some, and I mean (some) will find second-rate men who happen to live well above the poverty line. Doesn’t make them better. In the grand scheme of the universe they’re really not. But most people don’t consider all the features of a potential mate. Paper wealth is treated sort like the way colleges treat SAT scores. It’s a method of easy screening. But it doesn’t give the complete picture. My loving capacity alone is worth a good $100,000 a year. I’m very low maintenance too. Having me around the house would cost little more than your average goldfish and yet I give so much back. I would even clean their houses and cook their meals. And I am a good cook. Do you have any idea how much maids cost these days? Do you think these women are going to find anyone sweeter than me? I can assure you that that’s not going to happen. Almost all the women I date live very comfortable lives. I date the cream of the crop. Why? Because only the most well-educated can begin to understand my genius and extraordinary modesty. I am a PhD magnet. These women can afford me.

Oh, but people also want security. They could have you as their toyboy but they want a provider too, as a worst-case scenario if their financial sources dry up or have a baby.

Moving on to breeder and looks issue. I think even good looking, fertile women should make me their man whore and be grateful because my real worth vastly exceeds my paper worth. I have Grade A DNA. My children would kick ass. I am convinced of this. Women should be grateful to get the good stuff. Would I have dated Nicole if I made money? No. I would be going for fertile women who wanted children, and I would certainly have a preference for good looking women. Does this make me evil to want children? If so, then you would have to say that the majority of the human race is evil. Does it make me evil to want beautiful women? No more evil than most other men as well as women. People like beautiful people. It’s not evil. It’s an evolutionary force. It’s the randomness of change and adaptation.

Maybe I’ve been too defensive with you, Kitty. Nicole scared the shit out of me. I ran away in terror. Her interrogation tactics wore me out. She seemed controlling and potentially manipulative. I felt like potential prey. I don’t want to be on guard all the time wondering if I am being manipulated. I don’t want to be controlled. She wanted to get to know me too quickly. She should have slowed it down. I cannot deal with all of that intensity when I first meet people. I really don’t think I made enough money for her anyways. She made it very clear to me that she was looking for someone who was economically independent. It would not have been wise for me to go for her, even if she didn’t scare the shit out of me. It would only be trouble because I would never be able to give her what she wanted.

Dickie, you are a hopeless narcissistic. Are you saying that aside from her scaring-the-shit-out-of-you personality you would have been a safe choice for her because you'd never be financially independent?

You are fucked up, I love you

2009-07-15T23:25:00.000+02:00

You are fucked up and it might be final
Or might you have hope that I fix you?
Certainly not, I am not qualified,
not daring enough, neither courage, nor insight
Just the desire – there.

You cried while – or after? – randomly kissing
my body parts – or was it systematic?
Telling me what an awful thing happened to you
were dumped by a girl you never loved
as you told her in certain terms
a good many times.

And then you fell in love you thought
Hopelessly yearning for a bubble
You had burst before it was blown.
You cried and I smiled smugly when
you told me you could love me
when you'd put this behind you
plus my behind is nicer, too.

Or so you thought. True, the next day
you apologized I found cumbersome
but showed understanding
in case more is coming
my way.

You are fucked up and it's final
No hope, no way, no fixing
It's dawning on my understanding
while I bathe my face in the violet hue
I know you are fucked up
so I can love you.

Nicole

2009-07-15T00:22:00.000+02:00

Interesting to see what is on a man's mind when dating. This is a comment on my cyberfriend Dickie's post, who would not let me comment on his blog so I post it here.

I thought Nicole's original email was really funny with the comment about the kayaking and changing into a tux in no time. I see profiles of men who love the "outdoors" all the time. I am an indoors type of woman and when I get to the "outdoors" part in men's profile I just lose interest almost instantaneously.

Sorry to hear she was carrying a 'big gulp' (and that it was so unattractive) and that she refused to accept a drink from Starbucks. Why did the big gulp bother you?

I disagree with your conclusion that she was a woman who wants her cake and eat it, too. What she wanted was reciprocity. If you want her to support her as of now, then, hypothetically speaking, could you do the same for her when the table turns? You clearly would not have any of that (but you can't yourself get to admit this). You probably would have been thinking "if I had money I'd want to date a babe with breeding potential, not you, you poor mediocre, unattractive woman with Big Gulp - you are supposed to be an answer to my current woes, not a source of headache-inducing puzzles and cross questions". Maybe the woman was smart enough to figure this out with her questions?

Comment on Dickie's post

2009-07-15T00:14:00.000+02:00

Hey Dickie,

I just read your two posts of July. Very interesting. Your writing is precise and engaging. So did you take the offer of your psychopharmacologist (this word would have made Winnie-the-Pooh wonder if you sneezed Twice)? Funny they always seem to be concerned with your sex life. I used to go to a crook-ish psych in New York who used to prescribe mostly effexor (I vaguely remember that we tried Celexa, too, but simply can't remember the outcome, perhaps I rejected it in the end or didn't work for me) for me. He mentioned this standard stuff about sex drive lessened, etc. When he prescribed effexor I asked him how long the effect was going to last. He asked me why and when I didn't say he helped out with some trivial explanation. Of course I asked because of this notorious side-effect. And he wanted to hear about my sex life (or wanted to hear me wonder about my sex life at least), which I refused to do. By the way, I am happy to report that one's libido is definitely not affected after about 24 hours. As far as I know, effexor is the best stuff in the market (sorry, don't remember the generic name).

50-60 k thoughts

2009-06-22T16:12:00.000+02:00

Allegedly we have 50-60 thousand thoughts a day, most of them the same as yesterday and the day before. I wonder how many new thoughts I have a day? And does it count if I read about something new or it has to occur to me? I am bored recently a lot. Could be, because I get a whole lot less new impressions in Budapest than I used to in New York.

The other day I talked to a young couple at our joint meeting with the Biochemistry Department at a pub on the Pest side. The guy was 26 and just flanked his neurobiology exam, the girl was 20 and quite beautiful. They could not fathom how I could have left New York for the sake of Budapest. I told them New York was very stressful in the end. And Budapest? Is not it, too? I said no. It is only depressing. At which we had a hearty laugh.

Poets again

2009-02-02T21:43:00.000+01:00

A few weeks ago my favorite poet, Edu, promised me to fix up my apartment. He is a great guy and writes beautiful poems. He had a tragic youth hood, amounting to a Greek tragedy almost. In light of that insight (he shared with me on that occasion) he turned out amazingly well-adjusted. Yesterday he called me again, and promised me to come around on Wednesday morning and fix my built-in cabinet's disjointed door (he doesn't know yet that my furnace is misbehaving, too and I also have 2 mirrors, 2 towel racks to put up, and two shelves to assemble). Don't forget your word, Edu! I'll teach him English in turn so he can read all my badmouthing about him in the future (or praise).

Dark chocolate coated cherries

2009-02-02T21:24:00.000+01:00

Yes, I was eating them. They are just too delicious to resist! Yesterday I was reading Noisy's blog about losing weight 5 weeks in a row and got so inspired that I rushed to the gym and did lots of goddamn exercise. I got on the stepmaster for 6 minutes (53 calories - or kcal?) then ran 600 meters on the running board, did go through just about every exercise machine in the room, went in the weight room and did lots of exercise (like leaning forward, to the side, etc with two 3kg weights in my hands) and finally unwound in the Finnish sauna and the steam room. I saw the masseur, a cute, pleasant blond guy in the steam and he told me about the massages he does and it turns out he also does "room service", i.e. besides the health club he also comes to one's place and in that case he costs only 3,500 Forints for an hour (about $17). I am very tempted to try it as I used to have massages beforehand and they are very beneficiary for your general wellbeing.

But, back to the cherries. I just had to have like half of the (100g) bag, they were so delicious. I should get a scale like Noisy does. Although sometimes they are really useless - I measured myself twice in the gym yesterday - in the beginning I was about 67kg (with training clothes but no shoes on) and after the saunas when I measure "only" 64 kilos. Felt fairly dehydrated though. In any case, I don't think I weight more than I did yesterday afternoon but feel a bit guilty about eating sweets when I am trying to lose weight. I just want to see the results of all that hard exercise, dammit!

Poets we hang out with

2009-01-24T01:19:00.000+01:00

It seems I am getting to know more and more poets. Till now I was viewing them with suspicion and didn't quite think they should play any role in my life. When I was 30 I had a boyfriend for a while who was a traffic engineer (or if there is no such thing then think of the closest profession this description evokes) and lived together with his ex-wife, her new husband and the child of the latter two. All in glorious harmony in a beautiful house owned by my then boyfriend, Gyula. It was an idyllic setting. And he wrote poems, too. And played them on his guitar (after adding some tunes, I guess).

Ah, but it didn't last. Soon, Gyula didn't seem to appreciate me that much. But I made friends with her ex-wife and her new family. We are still friends actually, though sadly Gyula is not with us, earthlings, anymore. Andrea, a sharp woman with a sometimes exceedingly sarcastic demeanor, once told me to imagine Gyula as he recites his own poems while playing his music on his guitar. We had to laugh, it was such a funny image, so ridiculous. I soon broke up with Gyula, and then thought I can leave poets in my past and their poems in the dust.

However, my sister is also a poet. Well, an amateur one. Thanks God, Andrea never let her recite her poems to her (as they became friends, too) so this way she can't sharpen her tongue at the expense of my poor sister. To be honest, I don't read her poems much, so I can't tell if they are good. But I discovered, poets are fun (sometimes) to hang out with. They have a soul for sure.

Tonight we hung out with 3 of her fellow poets and they were pretty nice bunch. And the hostess, Morci has a sweet son, a teenager, who wants to be an actor. He is apparently used to his mother's idiosyncratic friends as he didn't faze for a sec when Morci showed up with the three of us. Later a guy (also a poet) came over, too.

I think I have to check on my cats now.

New developments on the cat front

2009-01-23T00:31:00.000+01:00

Hello Universe! I have two cats these days, Macika and Babci. This is Macika.

Domestic bliss

2007-09-13T20:48:00.000+02:00

on the kittykat front. One of the kitties, Potyi, is a little kicking machine. Her favorite pastime is to lick her siblings clean. And herself. And the people around her. She seems to have an oral fixation. How far would've Freud gotten with her on his famous couch? :-)