izza
Master Don Juan
For my last post I wrote FC: France - FC doesn't mean anything. OK!
Chickgate update:
Franco-American: Cancelled on me saying "she promised to go to her little brother's art show. You know how important it is to see a 13 yr old's art."
Saturday date cancelled. :box: I saw it coming, of course, or maybe I always think they're going to cancel.
Ok, I said, I didn't really care about the excuse (be it true or false). The more they play up the excuse, the more it's bad news, but even that can be a test. I told her, well, I've got no problem eating whipped cream without strawberries." I went for the walk I had proposed to her, and at the whipped cream without her strawberries.
She said she'd call me next Thursday. I told her it was awesome she was going to Istanbul, and that I was jealous. How cool! Anyway, I was with the pianist at the time, so I kinda had to go.
La pianiste: Ah, what a measure of how hilariously ineffective and cowardly I am!
This is the friend of some bi chick I went on a few dates with a while ago. La pianiste, the pianist, is about 5 feet nothing with fierce blue eyes, blonde hair, and, from the frequent sly glances I've been taking, a very curveaceous body. Sweet. So when bi girl was introducing me to all her musical friends around a piano, I had la pianiste accompany me for some singing, and so I said, "would you accompany me to help me practice for my voice lessons?" Ok she said.
She cancelled one Sunday, proposed a Thursday, I said no (out of principle, but it felt right), and we agreed on Friday afternoon. Now, I doubt I need to clarify that I of course do not need her to accompany me for my voice lessons. It's a pleasure to make music, don't get me wrong, but let's say I had ulterior motives. I think she was aware of them: she was sending all sorts of sweetsy things in the text messages leading up to her arrival: "sleep well, have a good afternoon, sorry I'm late, I should break this habit," (she was a bit late.) Etc.
Not that this helped me act, as you will soon see.
My insidious plan was to play piano in an isolated closet like room near a garden. It really is quite beautiful there with the breeze blowing in and the spring leaves and so forth. So when she showed up. I thought it would be fun to call out to her from a window. In French, where's Waldo is "where's Charlie," so I sent her a text message telling her to look for me. Then, when she couldn't find me, I started calling out her name, and she got even more confused (didn't think to look up, apparently). She called me, and I had to tell her to look up. Really weird. I was wondering why she couldn't determine the direction of my shouts. She told me later she has some weird hearing problem, which esp in French I do not understand at all. Anyway, it was pretty funny for me, but not funny and rather uncomfortable for her. Not an ideal beginning to things.
She played piano while I sang, and she seemed really tense and rushed. She was facing the wall, while I read over her shoulder, and basically breathed on her neck. The good news is everything was going according to plan: she was into me, playing piano innocently in a small room alone near a beautiful garden, with our bodies an inch away, feeling each other's presence. Bad news: I'm a coward! Despite how ridiculously easy this was, I sat there wondering if she liked me, what she would do if I tried to touch her etc. I wanted to know for certain that she liked me; but from a girl that's next to impossible! All I could do was imagine her being extraordinarily offended and disgusted by me trying to make a pass at her. That was the image that played in my head over and over until I was frozen in place, only able to think about my singing. I couldn't sing and plot and sum up the courage to act out my plot all at the same time!
Finally, I decided to act. There was a rather lengthy piano part before I entered, so hoping for the best, I started toying with her hair a bit (following somebody's advice, I forget who). I think even the people four floors below could feel the air freeze the second I did that. She had no idea what the crap I was doing... and she was just trying to concentrate on the piano part. I missed my entry and we had to go back. We didn't talk about it, didn't exchange glances. Only silence. After that, I didn't dare try anything else!
So, I kept asking her to play song after song. On the one hand, I knew I wasn't going to make any more moves because now I was too afraid. But another part of me stubbornly stood there, trying to prolong the session as much as possible, just in case all of a sudden some guardian angel might decide to insert that backbone I'm apparently missing. Song after song went by. I never acted, I never steeled down and resigned myself to action. I resigned myself to inaction. I felt guilty for tricking her. I secretly didnt want to be "one of those guys" who only thinks about sex and tries to make sneaky passes at every girl. After a while, I just said, ok, enough, and I sent her on her way.
The main problem I'm having is that I fundamentally don't care about women. Who cares if I have one or not? What do I need kisses or sex for? I'm already happy. Part of me is proud to be so independent. When I was trying to make a pass at la pianiste, I just felt so stupid and petty. I imagined kissing her and it just seemed like it would be so disappointing and not worth it. I want something innocent and pure, not just to trick some girl into kissing me and then maybe never seeing her again. What a waste of effort. Don't get me wrong, I only think about sex and 90% of the actions I take are sneakily related to snagging a woman. But when crunch time rolls around, I suddenly realize what a horrendous waste of time and energy all this trying to get women is. I realize that I don't care at all, and that having a woman, a kiss, or sex means absolutely nothing and won't solve anything. Then the girl leaves and I am so angry on the one hand to be such a coward and on the other to be so stupid as to actually spend so much time chasing something so useless.
Now, I really don't know where to get a second date with la pianiste. Maybe I should call her and just ask her out on a normal date. Another problem, my time is running out here in France. Still haven't kissed a girl in a year and a half. More later on the three potential dates lined up this week. Three more chances to prove my cowardice on the field of battle. Or maybe, by some feat of insanity, to act? :flowers:
Chickgate update:
Franco-American: Cancelled on me saying "she promised to go to her little brother's art show. You know how important it is to see a 13 yr old's art."
Saturday date cancelled. :box: I saw it coming, of course, or maybe I always think they're going to cancel.
Ok, I said, I didn't really care about the excuse (be it true or false). The more they play up the excuse, the more it's bad news, but even that can be a test. I told her, well, I've got no problem eating whipped cream without strawberries." I went for the walk I had proposed to her, and at the whipped cream without her strawberries.
She said she'd call me next Thursday. I told her it was awesome she was going to Istanbul, and that I was jealous. How cool! Anyway, I was with the pianist at the time, so I kinda had to go.
La pianiste: Ah, what a measure of how hilariously ineffective and cowardly I am!
This is the friend of some bi chick I went on a few dates with a while ago. La pianiste, the pianist, is about 5 feet nothing with fierce blue eyes, blonde hair, and, from the frequent sly glances I've been taking, a very curveaceous body. Sweet. So when bi girl was introducing me to all her musical friends around a piano, I had la pianiste accompany me for some singing, and so I said, "would you accompany me to help me practice for my voice lessons?" Ok she said.
She cancelled one Sunday, proposed a Thursday, I said no (out of principle, but it felt right), and we agreed on Friday afternoon. Now, I doubt I need to clarify that I of course do not need her to accompany me for my voice lessons. It's a pleasure to make music, don't get me wrong, but let's say I had ulterior motives. I think she was aware of them: she was sending all sorts of sweetsy things in the text messages leading up to her arrival: "sleep well, have a good afternoon, sorry I'm late, I should break this habit," (she was a bit late.) Etc.
Not that this helped me act, as you will soon see.
My insidious plan was to play piano in an isolated closet like room near a garden. It really is quite beautiful there with the breeze blowing in and the spring leaves and so forth. So when she showed up. I thought it would be fun to call out to her from a window. In French, where's Waldo is "where's Charlie," so I sent her a text message telling her to look for me. Then, when she couldn't find me, I started calling out her name, and she got even more confused (didn't think to look up, apparently). She called me, and I had to tell her to look up. Really weird. I was wondering why she couldn't determine the direction of my shouts. She told me later she has some weird hearing problem, which esp in French I do not understand at all. Anyway, it was pretty funny for me, but not funny and rather uncomfortable for her. Not an ideal beginning to things.
She played piano while I sang, and she seemed really tense and rushed. She was facing the wall, while I read over her shoulder, and basically breathed on her neck. The good news is everything was going according to plan: she was into me, playing piano innocently in a small room alone near a beautiful garden, with our bodies an inch away, feeling each other's presence. Bad news: I'm a coward! Despite how ridiculously easy this was, I sat there wondering if she liked me, what she would do if I tried to touch her etc. I wanted to know for certain that she liked me; but from a girl that's next to impossible! All I could do was imagine her being extraordinarily offended and disgusted by me trying to make a pass at her. That was the image that played in my head over and over until I was frozen in place, only able to think about my singing. I couldn't sing and plot and sum up the courage to act out my plot all at the same time!
Finally, I decided to act. There was a rather lengthy piano part before I entered, so hoping for the best, I started toying with her hair a bit (following somebody's advice, I forget who). I think even the people four floors below could feel the air freeze the second I did that. She had no idea what the crap I was doing... and she was just trying to concentrate on the piano part. I missed my entry and we had to go back. We didn't talk about it, didn't exchange glances. Only silence. After that, I didn't dare try anything else!
So, I kept asking her to play song after song. On the one hand, I knew I wasn't going to make any more moves because now I was too afraid. But another part of me stubbornly stood there, trying to prolong the session as much as possible, just in case all of a sudden some guardian angel might decide to insert that backbone I'm apparently missing. Song after song went by. I never acted, I never steeled down and resigned myself to action. I resigned myself to inaction. I felt guilty for tricking her. I secretly didnt want to be "one of those guys" who only thinks about sex and tries to make sneaky passes at every girl. After a while, I just said, ok, enough, and I sent her on her way.
The main problem I'm having is that I fundamentally don't care about women. Who cares if I have one or not? What do I need kisses or sex for? I'm already happy. Part of me is proud to be so independent. When I was trying to make a pass at la pianiste, I just felt so stupid and petty. I imagined kissing her and it just seemed like it would be so disappointing and not worth it. I want something innocent and pure, not just to trick some girl into kissing me and then maybe never seeing her again. What a waste of effort. Don't get me wrong, I only think about sex and 90% of the actions I take are sneakily related to snagging a woman. But when crunch time rolls around, I suddenly realize what a horrendous waste of time and energy all this trying to get women is. I realize that I don't care at all, and that having a woman, a kiss, or sex means absolutely nothing and won't solve anything. Then the girl leaves and I am so angry on the one hand to be such a coward and on the other to be so stupid as to actually spend so much time chasing something so useless.
Now, I really don't know where to get a second date with la pianiste. Maybe I should call her and just ask her out on a normal date. Another problem, my time is running out here in France. Still haven't kissed a girl in a year and a half. More later on the three potential dates lined up this week. Three more chances to prove my cowardice on the field of battle. Or maybe, by some feat of insanity, to act? :flowers: