Taken and first. On the train.

I am single not because nobody wants me. There is a waiting list, but unfortunately I can’t control who is on this list. I don’t care, if they wait.

I am tired not because I never rest. There is a to do list, but unfortunately I am not able to put myself first.

I fail permanently to be top priority for myself. Being single and unemployed makes me less organized.

I need to merge two lists together. I want to be taken and prioritized.

P.S.

While writing these lines I fell asleep few times. Only stupid people can take 5 AM trains.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Relic #1

Reply to my Friday excitement: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/relic/
I like to reply to challenge with one picture. But this time I got too emotional and failed.

It’s my grandma’s home. My mother was born here.
I spent my long childish and reckless summers here.
It takes me more than hour to drive here, but I still come to relive my memories, to write, to read, just to be here.

Nobody lives here.  I can see the furniture I adored, look at photographs of people I don’t know, read my letters to grandma, touch  her handbags and dresses…

15 years the house is abandoned, but still full of memories I want to cherish.

Sometimes I come here just to paint it red…

Wind of change

– What are going to do now?- it was the only question,  if I only mentioned quitting my job.
– I gonna have well deserved summer holidays, will think about new ideas and maybe I will get married, – my answer was funny and honest.

I had nothing but the world to embrace. I was tired and wanted to have suntanned legs, to travel, to meet new people. Move somewhere far away and live my ideal laptop lifestyle. Words about marriage were only self protecting shell to reflect my laid back attitude to the problem of being jobless.
—
I am not dating a guy, but who cares?
It’s good to be unemployed.
Eating blueberry cake the whole day…
The rest will follow: suntanned legs, the different time zone and one day my wedding dress with pockets…

Be brave to say out loud what you wish for,  it may happen. Very soon.

Post #100: My heroes and their goddess

Woman is strong till she meets her Weakness.

Strange enough, I do attract certain type of men. Different –  past rockers, hippies, bikers, scientists, writers or promising youngsters. Different facial shapes, hair or skin colors, heights and weights, nationalities and eating preferences.

All of them – with dimple chin. Not very visible, but  always present. I never noticed that rule, until my friend, who studied faces reading once pointed it out.

“A dimple on the chin, the devil within.”
―Pope Paul VI

It’s interesting what in my face attracts them? I have nothing very special except my broken nose and distinct lips.

—–

“You gonna be my woman”, he said the next day. Even before first kiss, before long romantic walks, before our past stories and future plans, before dinner, sex and breakfast.

Man is much harder when he meets his Weakness…

Do I want to be his Weakness? I doubt. Really.

 

Is there any life after …you quit?

There were two  very encouraging messages among the farewell spam. It’s lovely, when someone takes times to write anything else than any copy-paste-bullshit.

I wish you the very best for the future. The good news is that there IS a life after [company name here] and it’s a good one.

and another one

Today is your last day but tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life…

Yesterday I made a controversial effort  to look non-profesional in  at the office to manifest my new life! It was a great day. And the only day in my life I got paid so well!

Today is the first day of unemployed me. I have no employer. I don’t  I need one now.

I want to enjoy the free ride for a while. Till the next idea will  blow my mind!

Woman’s Advice for Guys #1

Don’t be corny! Roses don’t work.
Give her a waterlily that melts her heart…

Photo challenge : Contrasts

I like Fridays because of Photo Challenges. It’s a good kick to remember my pictures, go through some archives,  to get inspiration to shoot till next Friday…

The first picture-maybe the most straightforward – I took almost accidentally with my iPhone, but it  was the best way to express my grief in situation I landed at that time…

I will think about more contrasts later this week.

In reply to  http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/contrasts/

Clasification of communication

Emails are for statements, messages are for emotional tweaks, chats are for unfiltered responses and all video stuff is total distraction – words and meanings are not important, as looking at is.

I am not against any form of communication, visual is fine,  just verbal is verbal and you don’t have the chance to read again. And I like to read and read it…

 

Proposal in the morning after a night without sex

Early morning in bed. Soft, lazy…

-Do you want some coffee or water, sweetie?

-Water, please,  – I feltl really thirsty after night party…

-What we are going to do today? We need to buy a carpet, mattress, we can have brunch in the downtown…
-We will buy a carpet, a mattress and  will we get married then?

-Will you marry me?

– Let me think if or where  it’s legal:))))

Explosion of laugh and coffee splashes on bed sheets.

Have you ever got a marriage proposal after a night without sex?

Nice lazy joyful morning in bed after girls pajama party…. just long time friends. Nothing sexual.

Should I consider that proposal as the last chance for marriage???

P.S.  I know, it was a warning before. …

 

 

Not a date. No peonies. No victory.

I spent 3 hours with him today.  Chatting and bit of drinking. We are from two planets, from two leagues, circles, from different generations. But both were open to listen and to hear.

Former squatter in London, alternative music fan, regular pot-smoker, blond, young guy who lives the life  in easy and joyful way and goes with the flow. He wants to be a Hollander 🙂

He asked for one kiss and got it. As admitted in his text message after our meet up:  he was too shy to kiss me more than once on the cheek.

It was like talking to a stranger who is next to you on the train. As soon as train stops, people go their own ways.

His way was to downtown. My way was  to Spain – Chile game on FIFA World Cup.  Bad day for Spain. Tomorrow will be better anyway – Spain will get The New King.  Amigos, you  just can’t have everything – you get either peonies or roses, victory or king.

Good bye Mr. Age Gap! Good luck.

Master’s mindfuck. A book or not a book?

I always loved to write, but more often I was reading others. It was my work. Sharing bits of my life  online and at the same time figuring out lot of things for myself. In written. I got involved now. Here.

I carry a fancy notebook with me whenever I go, I  stop my car sometimes to pencil something what crosses my mind. I make notes in café. I use my mobile for voice recording during long drives. I have mountains of fragments, dialogs, sounds and letters, feelings and  thoughts for future. For future that never comes or for the book that will never be published.

But this February, when the story with Man With a Plan and his son has started, I said to myself – I need to write about that. It seemed like amazing modern fairy tale: amazing business projects, politics, ménage à trois,  mental attraction… There were amazing strings of coincidences and other amazing  things…However, it  smelled a bit fishy in the very beginning. ..But if you want , I can name it  as smell of sea and shells….It was like a promise of super sappy story or horror story of manipulation. Both were good. Even for the same audience.

Who don’t like an unexpected death of my suitor exactly on the day I was about  to visit him at home in his country being on business trip there. And me being his last woman… And his son with boiling young blood in his veins  chasing me with crazy romantic offers after father’s death…

And  I still  don’t believe that something extraordinary and deadly had happened  2 months ago, maybe both guys  just were playing the wrong music … to a good dancer.

I danced to this bad music avoiding  red flags, carefully trying to keep my life affected as little as possible. I was so keen to believe it was a miracle and I was chosen from above for it…..I  was polite and understanding, despite negative, so I waited  for more lies to see where they would slip…

Real people, real identities, real situations… and unreal story.  Am I really attracted to witty but perverted minds?  Have I lost my ability to understand reasons of people behavior? Was I involved to play mindfucking game against my will? Didn’t I want to play it?  Why people play games?  Why games are played by people?  Was it real? Is it the life,  just  much spectacular than any fiction? I don’t know.

I needed to write to figure out it. And I have started my story.  I was not distracted. I sent farewell letters … I was back on track again.
I was sure the music stopped playing after funeral. I was too tired to dance.  But music started again two weeks ago. Just few  chords. Pianissimo … by youngster…

I keep waiting for more. And will definitely make all skeletons dance.

But…

Do I really need to write this book? Do I need to immerse myself in the past to figure out WHY instead of living my life in the present and think HOW? Do I want a sweet revenge by writing a book? Do I need to justify my behavior? Do I need to understand them or me?

Do I need to be THE AUTHOR? Does anyone need another book on crazy dating story?

————–

 

 

Lost in NYC. Letters of lust

I know. He said it at the very beginning. He is taken. But we have got and keep getting so much fun from our sensual  message exchange, we just can’t stop.

Is he unfaithful? Am I?  We just pretend we live in a world where everything is possible… When online:)

HIM:  Back from NYC
Thinking of you…

ME:  I am dreaming about NYC few months in a row..
Love NYC. Let me know when you are there next time 🙂

HIM: I will 😉
When was last time you were there?

ME: 7 years ago. Was thinking to go there this year. From July I will be completely free…unemployed and able to embrace the world…

HIM:  Any favorite place in NYC?

ME: Many;) Volare in Greenwich Village,
Few places in Central park, Brooklyn bridge…

HIM: I love Greenwich Village, I went to Otto but Volare looks nicer, I will go there next time…
I have a friend in Brooklyn, I crossed the bridge walking 😉
I love the Conservatory and the model boats in Central Park

And I love your lips ;-)))))

ME: It’s a pity I have no friends in NYC 😦 Have you been there for business or pleasure?

HIM: I have been there for pleasure, one week vacation
I would love to travel with you… anywhere
I send you a thousand kisses… everywhere

ME:Lucky dude in NYC!I was pretty busy with hundred kisses here;)

HIM:  No! I don’t believe. Did you get hundreds of kisses?
Do I need to be jealous? ;-)))))

ME: Furious! Not only jealous:)

HIM:  Share with me…

ME: It’s good to feel  loved, adored, kissed 😉

HIM:  I agree ;-))
If you are happy, I am happy…

ME: I am not completely happy. Flings are good, but relationships are better.

HIM:  I love you too ;-)))))
And I miss you too…
Flings, with an “s” at the end ? 😉
Sounds like an interesting week… aren’t you going to share it with me?

ME:  I would rather share with you our things;)

HIM: I want to share our things… and I would love you sharing some of your things with me… you have such an extremely sexy brain…

ME:Having sexy brain makes ordinary conversations much more exciting…

HIM:  There is no ordinary conversation when you are around…
And not only your brain is sexy…

ME:You are the Master of  flirt. Or Mr. Seduction…

HIM: You don’t leave me any other option…
And you are Miss of Escape ;-)))))

ME:I leave all my options open…you just don’t use any…

HIM: You just did it again!!! ;-)))))

 

ME: Really? Are we playing different games? Are we playing the same game with different rules? Do we want to get different results at the end of game? Do we enjoy the game itself?

HIM:  If I am playing a game, I am playing the game of love.
I am falling in love with you.
I think of you every single moment.
I wait anxiously for your emails.
I am desperate for all my colleagues to leave and be able to skype with you.
I would love to travel around the world with you and make love in luxurious hotels in the five continents…
At the same time, I am very aware that I am not single and that I have very little to offer.
If I were single, we would have already met in Berlin, taking romantic walks and kissing each other in every corner, drinking white wine and starting to get undresses in the elevator of the hotel, unable to wait to go to  bed, and making love from sunset to sunrise
Not being single leaves this, for the time being, as a dream. Nobody knows what will happen in the future, but as I have very little to offer, I feel I do not have the right to play the game as I would love to.
Of course, if you ever come to XYZ, or if you feel like traveling to AB or CD (my two business destinations), I would be delighted to make my dreams come true.
My Dear, if you want to make me happy, move to  XYZ;-))))
My Dear, what can I do to make you happy? I prefer your happiness to mine…

ME:Please never ever write things like that again. Please…

It’s a fair play and we both understand the rules. And nevertheless reading these lines made my eyes wet unexpectedly. What happens online, stays online.

Let’s joke, let’s flirt, let’s talk and smile, let’s make stupid things, but please never be serious and  never be back to offline reality.

I saw a picture while reading your message. It hurts. Not virtually. In real life.

Bad luck on local date and mind blowing peonies

My local date, I was so sure about yesterday,  was bad.  Actually it haven’t happen today. Bad luck? Youngsters are not reliable? Am I  on his priority list? Definitely not. He is not on mine either.

Weird enough, when people work within walking distance. 15 min on feet is more than enough for both to meet in a nice place after working hours. Mr. Age Gap   failed to make a grand entrance. Minus ten points. Or even more.

Precious assets and date in my own city

I can’t remember myself going to first dates in my own city. Or my own country. It was something worth remembering only 13 years ago.

We oddly clicked online. Ping pong of emails, Hangout messages, 2+ hours of phone conversations. We set a date on Wed. The more we talked, the more excited he was.

So today, not on Wed. Youngsters are not patient. THE AGE GAP. Older ladies know very well – time is our most precious asset (OK,OK I know, diamonds too) and we need to invest our time wisely.

As my daughter said: “you should be dating  younger guys. With two conditions:  they can’t be younger then me ( she is 21) and please don’t bring them home. It will make queue to the bathroom…”

Will try. I already know, I will be more than interesting to him.

Will he be at least worth my time investment? I am more than sure –not. But let’s talk about ROI tomorrow…

 

Sexual vocal lessons and sleepless nights

Tonight I was reading blogs (needed to catch up after my trips) and was thinking what to write about…  I have my notebook with some  ideas, but a lot of them are just raw ideas or chats crumbles, memories or visions. I need to think over, put my text into readable English and  hit “Publish” button.

Laying in my bed, at 9 PM my time on very delightful lonely weekend with nice evening light outside.  And suddenly this wonderful picture was tore down by sound. Sound of  sex.  My neighbors sexual symphony.  With a distinguished soprano. It happens often. Few times a week. And 2-3 times per night, easy to calculate, they are above the average in their activities.  I always try to fall asleep in the break. I know their schedule.

Yes, I feel envy sometimes. I feel angry more often, and in some cases I feel humiliated. I just don’t need vocal reminder for not having enough sex. I can’t sleep, I can’t force myself pretend it’s not happening.

During warm summer nights I used to go to my balcony for a smoke. They have  sex with windows widely open. Mostly guys in the neighborhood were listening and smoking too. It’s was an amazing turn on. They were  discussing the situation.  Pretended as if they are angry. Or disturbed.  They commented on the tone, volume of voice of the performer.  We know their repertoire now, we hear the differences. Even slight changes… Recently they enjoyed  spanking…We know how dirty they talk. What she says and what he asks. Not in details, but still neighbors have an image of their private life. And noisy f***kers are aware of it.

But the voice!  It’s really impressive. it’s a  pity not everyone has a talent.  A guy  the next door was joking about sending his wife to this dramatic coloratura soprano to get few lessons of moaning. I am not right-wing nor rear-feather feminist, but I suggested himself to take lessons from our sexually insatiable neighbor instead.

What if he can make every woman sing her best arias every time???