My Less Ordinary Life

what the hell was going on?

2012-01-22T06:54:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know. Over a year? Really, what was so exciting that I did not even get around to spill my guts to complete strangers (or is it really just my crazy stalker lady reading this?) ??

Well I am happy to inform all of you that I am now happily married, have three children and live in big white house in Middlefield, Massachusetts.

Right, like I would ever want to?

2011 has been the year of great many distractions. I have never traveled this much (yep, I even got more extreme), have never slept with this many people (finally!!!), have never wrote this much (finished my Masters !YES!) and never made this much money as an actor (wish there was still some left…). And yes, I have to say, I have been hoarding all the good stories, which include tiny penises, perfect penises, dysfunctional penises, old lovers, new lovers, declarations of love from and to me, interesting drug related experiences, “having-to-be-pretty” jobs, crazy parties, unbelievable holidays etc. etc.

So yes, evil me has not shared. Last night I met this guy at a bar (yep, lots of stories seem to start that way…) and after a while he goes “yes, now I know where I know you from! you have got a blog!” and and first I am all proud, because I know it has been a while and it’s nice to know that someone is reading this but shortly after I am horrified because “ahhhh if he knows this is me, how many more people will know my real identity?”. But okay, I am keeping all the fake names up - and you kids who know me are part of this conspiracy - and simply hope it wont end up biting me in the ass….

Now 2012 not much of the what 2011 gave me is left. The lovers are still writing. A bit of money is still there. But nothing substantial. And don’t get me wrong, I am happy and all but in 2012, I want more of everything, more quality.

One great film. One great love. One main city.

More to come…

short update

2010-12-18T07:42:00.000-08:00

I have not been able to properly put down what has been going on because it was all just a bit too confusing. So here comes the short version:

I went to Paris. The first night, at the party, in front of all of our friends he told me how he wants me back, how he made the biggest mistake ever and that he wants to come and live with me in Vienna.

A few days of lots of sex and empty words followed. I got scared, provoked an argument, as usually he reacted to a provoked argument badly, made me feel horrible.

Well and then I broke up. He did not fight it. End of story.

Now after pining over this for an other good month, it finally hit me. I AM DONE. I mean really, I do not want someone who can not deal with any conflict. No matter how ridiculous the conflict may be, sometimes we (me = stupid women) provoke them out of fear. And that’s not cool and something to work on but I can’t be with someone who wants to give up in the face of that. No, I am done. And I feel better.

That’s that.

bon voyage à moi

2010-11-04T03:00:00.001-07:00

Dah Dah Dah DAAAAHH…today I am going to Paris.

Ahhhh I feel trapped in some sort of cheap soap opera but as Isa would say “it’s because you want it that way.” And damn it - is she right? Of course one could judge my going back to Paris as a way of keeping the drama going but honestly I see it as a way of ending it finally. One more stab straight trough my heart and I will be

fine. I mean I will bleed some more but then it will fine. It has to be fine.

As usual I have been up since 5.30am because for some reason my body can not do more than 5 to 6 hours of sleep every night and I don’t feel like taking sleeping pills - after all, these days I am drugged enough…

My therapist said to me yesterday that I should give Allain only the space in my life that he deserves. Not more. And that is such a good thought to have before seeing him. He triggered a lot of things in my life but he is definitely not the reason for certain things going south…he is just not that important on the grand scale of things in my crazy life...

I will probably see him today at a party. I will call him before hand though to not have the awkward “oh what a surprise NOT”. And I am looking, may I modestly say, FANTASTIC. At least one thing I can rely on today - I have groomed myself during the last weeks with a facial, hair dresser, waxing appointments and stomach exercises. I feel and look great concerning my appearance. So if nothing else, at least he will go “damn it, I can not tab that ass anymore”...

Then tomorrow I want to see him alone. And then that’s that. Look into his eyes, see no love, let go of it all and move on….hopefully really quickly into some other french guy’s bed.

Yes, my coping mechanisms still need some more healthy improving but we will do that after Paris….bon voyage à moi!!

how to deal with a break up

2010-10-18T02:15:00.000-07:00

What the hell am I doing in Vienna (yes, the city of music, I am back in the palm of your sticky hand)? Mostly wasting away. Okay, it is not that bad. I have become a somewhat functioning depressive. I do wash myself everyday - which not only makes me happy but also my room mates who were standing weirdly far away from me during the first week after the break up.

But what have I really done to get over my break up? What do all slightly damaged girls do?

1) Stop eating and sleeping.

I mean who needs rest and nutrition if you have crazy obsessions?

And let’s please look at the amazing upsides of this - I fit in all the clothes I wore when I 14 (yes, I am now old enough that things are in style again….) plus I had so much time during the night that my toe nails have never been this short and my eye brows never this plugged.

2) Leave the city for a weekend.

But guess what, sadly I bring my stupid self with that confused heart wherever I go.

3) Get drunk.

Yes, really, really drunk. And you know what, it helped. For that evening at least.

4) Sleep with a stranger.

Yep. And I am embarrassed to say that I don’t think I will count this one. I mean it lasted, no kidding, 30 sec. I thought we just started and he had just finished. So I am not planing on repeating that.

5) Have a nervous breakdown.

My poor, poor friends. I fell completely and utterly apart. Next step hospital. Now I have a magic bag with all sorts of wonderful pills to cure all sorts of awful things.

6) Let all your anger out on people who do not deserve it.

I feel horrible for my mother but if she tells me one more time how beautiful I am and that there is no reason to be sad, I might as well ask someone else to adopt me.

7) Facebook.

I hate it. No, really I hate in the way that we hate things, because they don’t love us. He is constantly on it, therefore I can watch his entire life (and I know it because I used to spend every f***ing day with him). And feel for the brief moments when we are both online that in some really sick way we are together. Okay, finally I made my best friend change the password. Enough is enough.

8) Shopping.

Yes! I mean if I get myself into really serious depth I might have something else to worry about than a broken heart but actually the not eating left me with some extra money….Plus I look more stylish while being in pain.

9) Watching sad movies.

So at first I thought, maybe if I watch someone in greater misery than me, I will feel relieved. You know along the lines “eat up, the kids in Africa have nothing to eat” but turns out that doesn’t work. After watching Precious, I was so depressed that I considering which subway station would be best to choose for my approaching suicide. Because obviously me not being fat, illiterate, with a retarded child, pregnant by my father and HIV positive, I have no reason to be sad and am therefore simply a looser. So which metro station?

10) Getting a rebound.

That was the first thing I actually tried. I even did that the first evening, the day we broke up. I invited some boy over (and yes, us pretty, even when pathetic, girls always know who we could call in the case-of…) and we drank a lot and then kissed. But no, I could not do it. No matter how damaged I might feel at this very moment, I can’t use someone like that, not someone who actually likes me (and they always do when you are hung up on someone else…).

So what is left? I don’t know. This post should have been called how-to-NOT-deal-with-a-break-up. But gosh, do I have to admit my inadequacy already in the headline?

21 from and 21 days to

2010-10-13T00:10:00.000-07:00

I gave up coffee and cigarettes. I hate to say it hasn’t helped me yet.

No, I had not suddenly started with coffee and cigarettes. But it’s a wonderful line from a song about getting over someone.

Almost three weeks now. And I don’t know. I am better. Yes. But the better hurts too because gosh if I am already better, he must be completely and utterly over it.

I am back in Paris in three weeks. Three long weeks. 21 days, where each morning hurts. Yes, with me it’s the morning, not the evening when it is the hardest. I usually wake up really early and then realize again and again that he is not here and not there and not anywhere. For me at least.

And in my mind I go back and forth between I really loved him, it was special, a mistake to end it and we should be back together and I did not even really love him, loved really only his love for me and I am just hurt by the rejection. And I am trying so hard not to lie to me that I really can’t tell anymore what the truth is.

In three weeks I will see him again. I am arriving in Paris earlier than he knows because a workshop in Berlin got cancelled so I am there earlier. I booked that flight before we broke up. Of course it would be “better” in some way to not see him. Sure. But on the other hand how can my last memory be that we are both crying and saying how much we love each other. That can’t stay my last moment in his presence or forever I will idealize our time together.

So, yes I am going there to get my heart broken one more time. And then it has to be enough. Then may this blog be a bit more fun and not so annoyingly triste...

(and here the final line of the song)

But I finally know what to do - I must quit, I must quit you.

over

2010-10-10T03:17:00.000-07:00

We broke up. Over.

Seeing the words simply put down, spelled out, makes it all seem so trivial. Did I experience again a trivial love story? Can a love story ever be trivial?

Truth is that the last 2 1/2 weeks have been hellish. I did not expect to be so devastated by the end of this “summer fling”. One would think with all the other devastating drama that has occurred in my life, that some little boy in Paris would not phase me as much. But gosh it did, like a kick in the stomach followed by little needles shooting through my heart.

Because damn it, I had not been this happy with anyone. Nor, has he by what he said, his family said, his friends said. And then I am gone and he can’t deal with the distance and thinks it was not love. That is the short version. The longer one contains more fears, more uncertainty but ultimately the demise of something he described as:

“I just want to be with you. I would follow you to every language, to every country. Because you are my country.”

So superficial now, empty words.

But was I really in love with him? Probably not. I was quite in love with his being in love with me. And this is what is crippling me on the inside, the memories of his words and his wonderful gestures. But yes, all while I was in Paris. And once back, he could not even do the simplest thing: come.

What hurts is being so intensely loved (or at least showered with affection, attention and infatuation) to the point of suffocation and then have it be taken away from one second to the next.

And I look down at my hands and they still look the same. I look in the mirror, it’s still the same round blue eyes staring back at me. And still suddenly everything is different. Again.

what my love is worth

2010-09-19T06:37:00.000-07:00

I sometimes wonder if we fall in love with a person or if we just over and over again fall in love with love.

As if our love is its own organism just looking for surrogates, going through different bodies throughout our lifetime. Because I used to love everything about Donald, his hands, feet, his little cricked teeth and the way he smelled. And I thought this had something to do with him, like he evoked those kinds of feelings in me. But actually my feelings for him evoked those visions of him inside of me. It’s my love, my own hormones that made him so perfect to me.

Now with Alain I look at him and I have all those same feelings. I smell him and feel so overly ecstatic, I see his smile and feel my brain shooting dopamine into my entire system. And the interesting thing is that with Alain, in contrast to Donald, it was not love on first sight, so theoretically there were moments when my love was not tied to his DNA. But I looked at him the other day and just said:

“I don’t remember how you looked before I loved you; now, I simply can’t imagine not noticing you, not thinking that you are the most exhilarating person in sight.”

And at the same time looking at Donald now, I feel nothing. And it shocks me, that all affection, all romantic tendencies I ever had for him are completely gone. I look at photos of him or us to test myself, hoping that somewhere in a corner of my heart I might still feel something, even if it is just an echo of a really old feeling but - nothing. My love completely detached itself from him and leeched onto someone else now. So how can I ever be sure, that yes, I really love this one person and not just my own feelings for him. What makes this one person so much better, so different to all the other possibilities out there?

What is my love worth if it can be so absolutely there and then so absolutely gone?

Maybe a little too deep for a sunday afternoon…but yes.

kissing a nameless boy

2010-09-16T03:01:00.001-07:00

Relationships can feel like gambling.

For one they can be pretty damn addictive. And then of course the uncertain outcome…is he really the right one? Did I react well? Is he right in doing what he does? Should I be more understanding? Why the hell do I have to be understanding? etc. etc.

After two years of being single, and loving that (for the most part), I have entered the new scary gamble of a new relationship, of being with someone and putting the word “my” before “boyfriend”. Ahhh even seeing it written down still gives me chills. But okay, I have agreed to do this.

Well, actually let’s back paddle a bit, no, I did not agree on this. It happened to me, without me actually agreeing at any stage. And where did it happen? Gosh, I am almost embarrassed by the cheer cliche of that answer….PARIS!

No, this has nothing to do with my may entry on love in Paris. After not getting a part in a German movie, I decided: screw it - I am going to Paris to learn french! Said, done.

To make the long, cliche filled story short: we met my first weekend in Paris at a squad underground music party (yes, this is how extraordinarily cool I am).

My friend Sasha pointed him out but I was drunk and wearing a really short dress and bright red lipstick (the I-am-shopping-around-outfit), so I didn’t really pay attention to him…then he was bold enough to just come up and dance with me in the front row and I thought “okay, he is confident and smells good and I am in Paris to meet the natives…so oh well.” We kissed and then after a bit of making out and a drink at a bar, I ask: “so what’s your name?” (yep, pretty sluty.)

“Alain.”

Now I am in Vienna. He is in Paris. And the situation sucks.

how to write a thesis

2010-09-13T02:37:00.000-07:00

things I am doing in order to finsih my thesis:

- check facebook

because knowing that my friend from second grade just baked cookies is vital information

- check my bank balance

well, there is something more depressing...

- go to the toilet

somehow i have developed an fightingly small bladder

- write an email

yes, i should totally get that cookie recipe just in case...

- call my mother

yes, even this seems to be more fun

- clean my room

who can concentrate with all that dust everywhere?

- hide all sharp objects

somehow the desire to die ram something sharp straight into my eye increases

- sleep

yeah, i don’t seem to be getting enough of that.

- write a blog entry

someone needs to know how hard I am working.

Please feel free to add more helpful tips on how to work on a thesis….

relief?

2010-06-24T07:34:00.001-07:00

Lately I have been feeling very stressed, overwhelmed by everything and simply moving all the time without anything in my life actually really moving anywhere. Often wasting my time.

Surfing the net is just a hipper version of getting lost watching daytime TV all day. Both - Oprah and Wikipedia give us the feeling we are learning something valuable, when actually we consume fast food for our brains. BUT of course I can't stay away from the net, looking for all sorts of stuff and there I come across this questionnaire talking about the burnout syndrome and I am thinking hmh…this sounds terrifyingly familiar and after having answered all the questions truthfully a huge traffic light, blinking red comes up with the diagnosis burnout. And obviously the advice is to start doing their highly expensive online coaching.

Instead I go where I always go when I need help with anything in my life: amazon.

(and right after I typed that I spent a few minutes researching amazon!! Why? Well simply because I can. (Because I can waste my time.))

So on amazon I google burnout syndrom and the first books that come up promise something like "Breakfree from burnout in 30 days" and I am thinking, gee, that's kind of odd. Isn't the whole putting so much pressure and stress on yourself one of the major causes of the burnout syndrome? So just 30 days to get rid of this? That sounds extremely stressful and makes me what to crawl right under my desk. It's like a self help book for anorexic girls called "Super skinny but eating some”.

Anyway by now I feel stressed by the amount of books available and need to take a break from that. So much to finding relief.

amour à Paris?

2010-05-12T13:32:00.001-07:00

Love, Love, Love….such a fleeting thing, so hard to catch, so hard to find, so hard to “not” expect because hey that is when it supposedly happens.

May, I say, NO. No, it does not happen when you expect it the least. I have not been expecting it for a long time. Months and months on end, I actually ignored love, closed of to it all, did not look etc. etc. truly spent a year (emotionally…) celibate and ??? Nope, it did not happen.

So I went to Paris last weekend and I thought to myself “hey, it’s spring, it’s Paris and how long will it take now until I am back to being a virgin?!?!”, so I decided for the first time to actually pick guys via couchsurfing, guys that I thought were attractive and sounded interesting to possibly stay with them when in Paris and maybe have a little holiday romance àla France.

Well. Hmh. The first two nights in Paris I stayed with my lovely friend - now called - Heidi, who just had a baby boy a few weeks ago (so I had at least one male creature lying on top of me right away...) and that gave me time to decide which monsieur I want to grace with my presents.

So I decided to first meet my second choice guy:

Jay - jewish (yes, we know I like that…), australian/jordanian, tall, dark, handsome, movie producer, living in the ritzy part of town.

And only stay with him if I completely fall in love on first sight because just from the pictures and the description I had already fallen in love with the other one:

Benoir - movie/documentary maker, big beautiful eyes, lovely smile, french/iranian, living in the artsy part of town, simply so cute. (and in the end - hot is what turns me on but cute is what makes me fall in love….)

So rich movie producer took me out with his fancy friends, to fancy clubs but hmh. Nope. He kept offering me the Vodka that they all got in huge bottles and when I kept telling him I do not drink stuff tasting like nail polish (no, of course I was more polite blah), he kept saying he would get me a glass of wine but instead continuously offered the stupid vodka. Poser but not generous.

At 4.45 am I left the club, walked up Champs-Elysees until the subway finally started running again….but proud of myself to have met up with my second choice guy and now having no regrets to move on to the man of my dreams, who was my choice all along.

Saturday morning, I get ready, keep brushing my hair a million times so it looks like I didn’t do anything to it and then took the metro to where I was going to meet him and there I waited already imaging how multi-lingual, multi-national our kids will grow up and then he says my name -

he - Alice?

me - Yes?

he - I am Benoir.

me - (shutting my wide open mouth) You, ahm, look different to the pictures.

Turns out!!! he had some other guy on all his photos and that guy was always in the foreground but no! He was not the handsome smiling guy in the front - he actually is the small, nondescript guy in the background!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(But he was nice and I was safe….)

So I have no idea. It does not have to happen when you don’t expect it or when you plan it meticulously - ahh, it’s probably some philosophical jabber about not killing it by holding it too tight and not letting it slide by not holding on to it at all.

But for now the universe has once again slapped me across the face for trying to manipulate my romantic fate.

Gosh, I dearly hope there is something romantic about my fate.

a wonderful way to spend a sunday afternoon

2010-04-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

There are things we realize as we become adults, things we thought of as otherworldly or weird when we were children.

Wine tasting good, for example. Beer still tastes like dishwashing liquid to me but now from time to time I am actually in the mood for a glass of wine…and I am even evolving from the sticky dessert wines to the more dry high class wines….uh lala, look at the fancy-almost-alcoholic I am about to become…

But a big one is being alone. When we were kids there was always someone there - sure some may have had absentee parents but we definitely didn’t live alone and for the most part did not want to be alone. To me, even when I was a teenager, it would drive me mad on sunday afternoons if I didn’t have any plans. I would call up every single person in my phone book until there was someone who spontaneously had time to go to a movie or doing something in order to keep me from being alone.

I never understood when I heard people talk about how they needed to be alone. I always thought it was some pretentious way of saying that they did not want to be with the particular person they were talking to. Now, I am almost marking the days I get to be alone in my calendar in bright beautiful colors…I long for just spending time with myself. Having no one watch me, being able to stare at the ceiling or read some novel, while snacking in my bed or watch numerous episodes of “Mad Men" in a row…simply not having to react or respond to an other human being and being able to be disgusting in ways that all of us are only when we are alone.

Having to be “myself” at all times out in the world can be tiring and simply being at home by myself in my yellow room, being able to be a complete slob is one of the most wonderful ways I can imagine spending a sunday afternoon...

chocolate challange

2010-04-23T07:37:00.000-07:00

After a friend mentioned to me that all my updates have to do with chocolate and having had an easter family crisis because I ate all the nougat filled chocolate eggs (hello !?! isn't easter the time when it's all about finiding the chocolate and eating it - they should have simply hidden it better...) I decidided on the ulitmative challange for me:

NO chocolate for one week.

And of course at first I thought, as you must all think, "no, I will die!!!" and what else is there to eat??? What will my blood do without all the sugar? My brain? My stomach? How will my personality deal with the sudden deprevation of beautiful, wonderful sweetness? And what will I now eat, considering I am cutting out my basic nutrition?! I mean, I am the type of person who calls a snickers bar a healthy snack (hello! nuts and milk!!)….

So, why, oh, why am I doing this evil thing to my poor body? Well, the thing is that I have tried to ignore this for very long, and not to say that I really believe it but I have heard a rumour that chocolate is not very healthy. Yes, odd, I know. But there it is. And honestly, anyone who has ever seen me with a Nutella glass in my hand knows that the amounts of sweets that I can eat without getting sick, is worthy of serious scientific testing but at the end of the day.....yes, even though I am not getting fat from it, it can't be very healthy….

Plus I have really been feeling addicted to the stuff - I mean I would get all the symptoms of an addict when people took me off the sweets. And I really don't want to be addicted, because, gee, in case my plane ever crashes and I end up on "LOST", I don't want to get withdrawls symptioms while I have to decide between Jack and Sawyer…..

So, no chocolate also means no sweets in general for one week. Wow.

Day 1

WOHOO! Total sucess, I did not die.

Day 2

Does cream count as "sweets”?

Day 3

I feel sad and lonley. Where is my sweet lover? We have never been apart for this long…

Day 4

I ate a whole pineapple…

Day 4

Wow, whole wheat bread takes really sweet.

Day 5

Hmh….it’s not like I suddenly feel super duper healthy.

Day 6

Gosh, how can I leave chocolate out when I am totally and utterly single???

Day 7

Hello lovely Snickers bar!!

Okay, what have we learned? Leaving chocolate out sucks. C’mon I don’t smoke and barely drink and I am a freaking vegetarian….I can’t be overly holy.

And it only makes me eat other things to compensate for the terrible loss. I mean sure if this week would have let me to compensate in terms of suddenly having wild sex with interesting strangers, I would have thought differently but no.

So where the heck did I hide the rest of those nougat filled eggs??

hello to friendship

2010-03-28T13:02:00.000-07:00

Friends and lovers.

How differently we often treat those two. Don Juan, for example, definitely treats me with more respect than he does most of his lovers and actually most guys I know treat their friends better than their lovers or at least rarely treat them worse. Bros over hoes is true for most…

Women seem to be quite different in that respect. Sure we like to tell ourselves that men come and go but friends stay blah blah but how true is that really? Looking around I sometimes get really upset when I feel like, me, I, as an independent person, ignoring my gender or particular relation to female xy gets treated with less respect or care than male xy who treats her like shit.

And it does make me wonder how desperately some of us need the attention of some guy. Why are so many women suckers for pain? Why did I do it? Fear. Still, today, I dare to say, a woman, no matter how beautiful, intelligent and successful still feels just a little less worth if there is not some guy around to prove that she is lovable. Heck, even language teaches us, you have to marry a man to become a Mrs., until then it’s little Miss but guys, no matter how useless they are born as Mr.s.

No, I am not trying to start a whole men vs. female debate but the thing is that we, us women, we have to somehow prioritize better. Don’t cancel on a girlfriend, if you would not do the same with some hottie, cook great meals for your friends, buy each other nice presents, dance at parties together, don’t waste your time with guys with great hair but low IQ’s (one gets ugly before one gets stupid…), treat them with

respect, love your friends don’t just like them, see the beauty in them, admire your girlfriends, do not compete with them, do not compare yourself to them, share happiness,be trustworthy, reliable and most of all relax with them and have fun because if you are lucky those will be the people who will stick with you, no matter who you’re sleeping with, no matter what you work, no matter what your kitchen looks like, no matter where you have excess body hair, no matter if you gain 10 pounds or loose them, no matter how sad you are, no matter how lonely, no matter how needy and not self confident, if you are lucky those are the ones who you can always be yourself with or don’t even have to….

So, hello to friendship.

made beds and healthy sweets

2010-03-21T13:48:00.000-07:00

Wow. A month and no blog entry. Either my life has gotten really exciting or really, really boring. In general I always tell people that I am much more boring than they assume, which I think they do because of my voluminous hair, it’s like wild hair - wild girl or maybe I am totally imagining but the point is that I find the joy in a lot of ordinary things….

For example I have started to make my bed daily. Okay, it has only been two days BUT two

days in a row, without someone forcing me to do it and it feels

good. There is something about a made bed that makes me feel like “gosh, I am not completely screwed up.” It’s been on my list of things I want to do in my life time in no (very) particular

order (yes, I actually have that list.) for a while but the actual motivation came from watching an interview by Gretchen Rubin, Author of “The Happiness Project” on bigthink.com (very recommendable page….).

In the long version of the interview she mentions that to be happier you need to do specific things, like not just “eat healthy” but “eat five vegetables a day” etc. and that surprisingly many people mentioned that making their bed had a positive effect on them and made them happier. Here an excerpt of the interview:

An other passion that I discovered is baking (no, I am not turing into a sad, lonely housewife…) and sure that might have resulted out of certain sexual frustrations (okay, maybe I am turning into a sad, lonely housewive….) but mostly because it is something that I can very easily control, is creative, meditative and produces, at least in most cases, something completely delicious and makes people think you are totally amazing (I think the whole muffins come out of ovens not bakeries has not caught on…)! So I am making the world fall in love with me, one spoon of sugar at a time…but may I say that I use only brown sugar or maple syrup, whole wheat flour etc. etc. so I am actually making “healthy" sweets (yeah mostly to kill of my own guilt of always eating the greatest portion of my baking endeavors…), which makes people even more impressed at how great they taste and hopefully wont make my ballet trained thighs grow….

For the baking passion I also have to give some credit to the lovely lady I lived with in New York, because after I saw how much white sugar went into one of her cakes, I decided I will have to start making my own healthier stuff or I have to give up on sweets all together (ha, not that was ever going to happen but, hey, after all sugar is the number one killer in the USA….) and of course some credit also goes to my lovely uncle in New York, who taught me how to make truly Austrian Apfelstrudel (there is something about beating the dough 100 times to make it just right - now, if that doesn’t reflect the Austrian nature, then what does?!….) although I have not dared to do it myself yet but one day….so that is now item Nr. 165 (actual number!!!) on my list.

Baking and making my bed. Gosh, I am truly growing up.

I might as well start thinking of where I want to be buried.

match making….

2010-02-21T10:35:00.000-08:00

Being a single girl, there is something absolutely awful, traumatic (did I mention that I do not read the news and live in my own world?) and utterly embarrassing that always ends up happening: well-meaning people trying to set you up with some lucky fellow.

Now, this may not sound so bad if they would do this in secret, you know like invite you somewhere and then, totally coincidentally, there is this guy, who might or might not be your type but at the end everyone can pretend it was just a coincidence that everybody met at that smelly bar….. But if they do it openly, it can feel like such a hit in the stomach right along the lines of “What??? ME with that guy??!?!” And I have to justify why the nice guy dressed in H&M bores the living hell out of me blah blah blah….man, I had to let a lot of friends go that way….

So here in New York I have been going to the theater etc. with a lovely, incredibly intelligent and witty theater director, who is happily also gay and in his 60s and - now called - Timothy. And even though I am once again about to leave a city thought it would be great to set me up with this ‘fantastic' guy he knows and the description sounded great; he:

- is very handsome

well, you can’t really go wrong with that attribute.

- has his own company

now, I like a man with drive.

- is only in his mid to late 20s

yes, I am over the older men.

- is Jewish

maybe I watched “The Nanny” too much when I was a little girl but somehow being Jewish always seems like a plus...

- is cocky

I really can’t stand it when guys are super insecure around me (which, I know does not help blah blah….) and a bit of cocky can be very sexy if it is routed in actually being hot and interesting.

- has a nice family

since I will never leave my children alone with mother, we definitely need nice grand parents on one side….

- has an American and Swiss passport

man going through the whole visa process is just sooo annoying and marrying someone just sounds so much more romantic…

Of course I wanted to be all cool about it. Not have any expectations but instead:

I thought about on which level I will covert to Judaism once we get married, and did walk a little slower than usual past a bridal boutique, I mean c’mon, if the perfect dress just happens to be on sale that day….anyhow as I was already thinking of who was going to speak which language to our children, I realized that after my facial on the Lower East Side I would not have enough time to go back up to Harlem and then down to Midtown and AHHHH alarm bells went of in my heads thinking I don’t want our grandchildren to hear the story of how we met starting with the line “her face was red and her hair was messy”…..

So, I was running around the village, like a chicken whose head had just been chopped off, not sure what I would do about blotchy face and the unsexy out-of-bed look….then I pasted this really authentic mexican place (meaning it was run down and dirty but the food was super cheap) and went in there for a really disgusting quesadilla and to do my make up with only other run down people watching. But I had no brush, so I ended up running into the next drug store and simply brushing my hair right there and then with one of their brushes - yes, I very much like a sad homeless person, who can not afford a brush….

Then after my hair was combed and my face was painted, I made my way to the little bar, where I met Timothy, my uncle (oh yeah they are friends too!) and - let’s call him - Andrew.

Hmh. What is there to say about Andrew…let’s go trough the checklist once more; he supposedly:

- is very handsome

The “very” was a very kind stretch.

- has his own company

And has a super show off watch and monster black berry to show it off > not so hot.

- is only in his mid to late 20s

Well, if he dresses already like an old man, there is really not so much difference…

- is Jewish

Sorry, Fran, but not enough.

- is cocky

Maybe that guy can only be cocky around a 60 year old gay guy but around me he was insecure and boring….

- has a nice family

Well, I’ll take them.

- has an American and Swiss passport

I guess it’s back to craigslist adds for suitable green card husbands….

triumphing over a runway model

2010-02-13T06:01:00.000-08:00

You know these moments, when you watch your reflexion in a window you pass on the street and you think “mhm, that looks good, I am looking pretty foxy today”….So I am walking down 7th avenue through Chelsea and I watch my reflexion and suddenly all I see is legs, legs where

my head starts and I look straight and this giraffe like woman, who is twice my height but half my weight walking past me and the whole “mhm, I am looking pretty foxy today” turns into “why, oh why, am I soooo short, why, oh, why do I eat more than an apple a day…..”

It’s fashion week in New York city and the place is filled with runway models - yep, not a good time to be in New York city if you are more than a size 0. And even though when I see them in magazines, looking at their faces, I am always quite bored but seeing them live is kind of interesting because they do look so different to the rest. Simply because they are really this much taller than everyone around and soooo skinny.

So, I am standing at the 72nd station waiting for the subway and next to me is one of these freakishly tall creatures, more freakish because she was also asian and you really don’t see that many super tall asian women. And I am watching her as she studies the subway map and then she does this funny thing of pressing her finger down the lines on the subway map to see where she needs to go - now, this does not scream intelligent…. anyhow I keep looking at her and wondering how much she really eats a day and how much she works out for those thighs to be so small and perfectly shaped and you can really study that because all she wears is tights….and I am feeling again extremely short and round, although I had been having a good hair day but that was all before seeing Ms.Super-Tall-and-Skinny….

We get on the subway and what does she do? She sits right next to me. So ladies, there is one important rule - never sit or stand next to a runway model, how is that ever going to work out in your favor??

And of course right at the next station this really handsome guy steps onto the subway; and now I have to quickly explain a scientific term (yes, this blog is kind of like the National Geographic…), which the urban dictionary defines as:

1.	Eye fucking
	A more intense/seductive version of eye flirting. You find this person extremley attractive and you want to tear them apart right now. Could also be undressing with your eyes. Licking of the lips may occur.

So handsome-subway-guy looks and eye f***s: me. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha - victory dance, drums and music in my head. He completely ignores Ms.Super-Tall-and-Skinny and keeps looking and winking at me. Because HA! she maybe Ms.Super-Tall-and-Skinny but Ms.Super-Cute-Face goes to moi!

Now, suck it runway models of New York city!! ha, ha, haha

For the rest of this awful week, I will continue to wear my head high…

…..and possibly wear heels more often, oh, and please, someone, hide the chocolate….

a love letter to New York City

2010-02-10T13:29:00.000-08:00

One of my best friends - newly named Emily- from good ol’ Alabama was in town for a weekend and I took her out to see New York and that gave me the possibility to see the place with new eyes.

I have been coming to New York to stay with my

aunt since I have been a little kid and I still do remember the very first time, I must have been eight or so, when I landed in New York City (alone!) at the JFK airport.

It was a hot day in the summer and as soon as I got off the plane hot, humid air rushed at me. The stewardess asked me if that small suitcase I had with me was all I had and back then a carry-on was all a little girl needed for a month away from home (ignoring the huge suitcase I returned with every time since…). But besides the humid air I also felt this amazing tingling feeling all over my body - it was as if just breathing New York air made me aware of all the possibilities that were just to my fingertips although I was probably just excited to be somewhere, where I believed life was just like in the movies...

The first time I came here, we went and did all the classic sights - I don’t remember everything but I do remember waiting for long hours in lines to be f.ex. 10 seconds up in the crown of the statue of liberty, eating with chop sticks for the first time in china town, being amazed by F.A.O. Schwarz (the toy store from the movies…) and hurting my knee but putting the huge cooling bag on my head for a photo because it looked like the way people did it in the movies…and of course the smell of my aunt’s and uncle’s house got burned into my memory and to this day, when I walk into their building, the distinct smell makes me feel like home again and gives me that happy, excited feeling I have always had when being in New York, even now living here.

Loving a place when you are visiting is different to trying to belong. And living in New York, especially during the winter can be harsh. Being outside (central park!!) is not really an option for very long, especially when it’s snowing and there are every huge puddles of mud (I have no idea why one of the richest cities in the world can’t deal with that…) and being inside is either boring (home…) or expensive (theater, coffee, dinner, museum…..) and people tend to be less motivated to leave the house and do things, yes, even in city that never sleeps. New York has so many romanticisms attached to its existence, something I have always bought into. I would say that if I was happy, I was happier when in New York and if I was sad, I was just a little less sad when walking the streets of Manhattan.

But I have had so much work with my thesis and the weeks of illness, that I almost forgot that I was in New York. I got a little lonely and lost in a place that would always call “my true love” and it made me wonder about myself, New York, true love and I actually felt a bit betrayed by my love….life?

Where is the amazing feeling this place would usually supply me with? But even with a big city like New York with its ever stable constant being change you can not rely on the outside supplying you with any kind of feeling - you actually have to take actions that lead to these feelings…no victims around here! (and sadly amazon does not deliver happiness and excitement in portions large enough to live off…)

So when Emily and I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge (a first for her and me…the photo was actually taken by my humble iphone) to Manhattan and I saw the whole city in front of me, I was once again entranced by the human made beauty that is New York City. The lines, the colors, the shiny surfaces and all the different shapes. And it’s true, it easily feels like the center of the world and one can feel very small. But when I saw the sheer amazement and happiness on Emily’s face when she said “Wow, some people never get to see this”, I realized once again how lucky I am to have experiences like these all the time.

I have seen fantastic plays, took great acting classes, have been taking great ballet classes, saw my first classical ballet, ate at restaurants where you have to wait for hours (now I wonder if it’s a crap place, if you don’t have to….), watched (and threw up in the bathroom during…) Avatar in 3D, spent time with my aunt and uncle, jogged around Central Park, did art workshops, read great books, went to gallery openings, checked out museums, researched at Columbia, met some of the super-rich, ate cheesecake at a crappy dinner, bought clothes at a thrift shop in Brooklyn (so-very-new-york….), cussed in front of the New York stock exchange, went to cool coffee shops, met so many interesting people, interviewed amazing theater people, kissed a boy, went to a secret bar, had chocolate wine, finally realized how many calories brownies really have (those bastards display the amount of calories everywhere now…) and decided to never (well not for the rest of the day…) eat them again, learned how to make Apfelstrudel (my uncle taught me), met up with old fiends, made new friends, baked vegan cookies, had my first scone, went to a pseudo-chique club, had dinner sitting at the bar (a first!!), bettered my french (with a french girl and daily podcasts…) and was able to actually say for a while:

“hey, I am living in New York City."

So, to quote a famous TV show:

“Where in the world do people move after having lived in New York City???”

But hey, if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere, right?! Let’s see where the wind will blow me next….

a little mention

2010-02-09T05:56:00.000-08:00

The lovely Stefan Mey has done me the honor of mentioning my blog as his very first blog of the week” - check out what he wrote (if you speak any German…) about “my less ordinary life” as well as enjoy his well written, witty and quite informative blog entries:

http://stefanmey.com/wordpress

In a way we all have to thank Stefan for my blog being alive again because if it wasn’t for meeting him by chance and him telling me how much he enjoyed my blog in early 2009 and what a shame it was that I didn’t continue, I would not have realized that people actually do read the confusing things I write….and like them!

So, in many ways: Thank you Stefan!

conversations with the ex

2010-02-08T10:40:00.000-08:00

I have been giving out a lot of relationship advice during the last few months and often it was smart, sounded wise and often enough made an actual difference….but honestly, I do wonder, what qualifies me to dish out any advice on relationships? The last people I liked/kissed/slept with, in no particular order:

a crazy christian, a cheating/former drug addict, a redneck musician, an actor with a virgin complex, a director with honesty issues, a sleazy doctor, a movie star, guys who I believed were gay, boy moving to Brazil and of course my lying, cheating, smoking, drinking Ex.

So? If you drive shitty cars for a couple years, you become an expert on ferraris? I am not quite sure that’s how it works.

I can’t really say that I think of my my Ex, Donald, all that much. I know that I feel no type of love for him anymore, except in the hippie way of “loving all creatures” and sometimes those really negative feelings of resentment.

So the other night, before my acting class, I call him. Why? Well, I have been having problems with the angry/sad/desperate monologue that I’ve been preparing and thought hmh…..”who

frustrates me the most in my life? who do I always end up arguing with?” Well, my mother.

Then second: Donald. So we speak and at first it is like blah, blah the weather blah, blah how nice to hear from you. And then I try to somehow tell him, that even though I left him and don’t love him anymore, I still have to deal with the shit he did. And I don’t say that to make him feel bad but so it’s acknowledged like the big elephant in the room. But he wants absolution and forgiveness is the best I can do. Pretending would only hurt me and he is not worth that.

But after thinking about this for a couple of days I have realized that it is not so much him I can’t let completely off the hook for what he did, it is myself. I can’t fully understand why I let myself slide to that level of staying with someone who was so absolutely wrong for me and made my life so much worse. I should have been stronger. It was MY responsibility to get out and I only did after wasting a lot of time and being humiliated.

The thing is putting ourself in the position of being the victim of "he-did-that-to-me" may feel good for a moment because it relieves us from all responsibility and makes one holier and than holy but it is the weakest position one can be in because a true victim can not change their situation. And I can and most importantly I did.

All I have to do now is to forgive and absolve myself. Because I can’t change the past but I can make sure that the now will eventually turn into a past that I will be happy to remember….

three revelations

2010-02-04T07:12:00.000-08:00

So I am going to share three revelations I’ve had this past week:

1) moist coconut flakes taste great straight out of the bag

Having to save money in this little city, called New York, I have stopped buying groceries to see how far I come with the left-overs in my fridge (and at desperate times, my aunts…). Turns out -pretty far and I get quite a bit more creative. So today for breakfast I will have my very last apple with honey on top and coconut flakes. See now I can add an other label to the blog - recipes.

2) I’d rather have a fool make me merry than experience make me sad

I admit that one may come from some English playwright, some of you may now (now this is a riddle for all the smart people….) but nonetheless after hearing it being said on stage, it stuck with me. Do I really prefer an interesting life to a happy one?

But more so, where is that fool??

3) screw all the back up plans

I have realized that the thing that actually upset me the most lately has not been that my acting is not going good enough, because in all fairness, I did shoot a couple cool things last year and things are getting better and better BUT I don’t have amazing back up plans. So sometimes I was looking at grad schools or internships and always got really scared, thinking of all the things I should or could be doing that

would be so much more safe blah blah blah. And then I read this thing saying “if you work on having a good back up plan, guess what you will be good at - your back plan.” So screw this.

And please, just in case, I have plenty of back up plans, I mean, I did hear they pay pretty good money for donor eggs…

my ideal family

2010-02-01T08:51:00.000-08:00

Family has always been a sort of weird term for me because mine is in pretty much every way the opposite of wholesome, happy or peaceful. Our Christmas day brunches usually end up in someone screaming, someone crying and my mother trying to talk on top of everyone….and those are the good days.

In High School I dreamed of being part of this the perfect family à

la US sitcom - you know

a funny dad, a caring mother, a handsome older brother, a cute little sister and a grandmother who bakes chocolate chip cookies. And of course everyone is good looking, witty and kind. I ended up spending a year in Alabama and realized, well - the classic American family seems to be like a drunk father, a fat mother, a stoned brother, a TV watching sister and a racist grandmother. Although I do want to add that I ended up staying with kind people and still have good friends from good ol’ Alabama….but the ideal family? No, not yet.

Then I ended up with Donald who had a daughter and suddenly found myself in a new type of family with me occupying a weird new role - stepmother (uhhh yes, my insides freeze when I hear that term…). And for brief moments it felt like it could work - the daughter loved me, I was in love with my partner but wait, oh, yes, I forgot someone - the EX. Now, that women made my life hell, with Donald letting here and it all went down in flames. But I do have to add, that today I get along almost better with the Ex than Donald…either way definitely not the ideal family.

So where is this ideal family? Where is the type of family that one feels welcome and home in?

Here, in New York, live my aunt and uncle. Now, sadly I have to admit that there is actually no real blood relation there, although I firmly believed that as a child, hoping that I will inherit my aunts slender body and not end with the behind my mother carries around….

But as it turns out my favorite family members are not actually my family. And again that makes me question the whole term “family”. It’s sort of like Christmas - I mean, who actually celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ our one and only savior (except Crazy Christian boy Cameron, who I dated and would always complain AFTER sex how we were not married and who this was all a sin but that is now totally off track…)?? We celebrate Christmas because we want to sit around with people we love or make some quick cash from our extended family and eat lots of free food...

With my aunt and uncle in Manhattan, it feels like that is how family should be like - people of different walks of life loving each other without getting anything out of it, accepting each

other the way we are, enjoying each others company, cooking meals for each other, listening and sharing, doing things with one another, learning from each other, the elder supporting the younger, the younger showing appreciation and care - a simple, true sense of connection. Who cares about blood when you have all of that???

So, my lovely aunt and uncle are the family I choose and I do that because I can. (Gosh, that American spirit…)

ballerinas on a coffee date

2010-01-29T13:37:00.000-08:00

I have recently started taking ballet classes and have to say that I really fell in love with the dance. I feel the strength, the clarity and the beauty the dance possesses is good for the soul and the body. It is so precise and so clear in its instruction, that for 1 1/2 hours there is right and wrong in the world, there is a total structure and elegance (well, not with me particularly, I look more like a dying swan, so far…anyhow…). And in my life, which feels so completely detached at times, so free, so void of structure, ballet truly calms my mind.

So much to that. Now, guys doing ballet - how do we feel about it? Thinking of the hot actor in “Center Stage”, who

came on his motor cycle, wearing a leather jacket - yes, we like him. But in all truth, and by no means do I want to sound prejudice, most guys I meet doing ballet are, well, gay (not act gay but simply like men…). And I tend to have a lot of gay friends, which is wonderful and all women know the great advantages of gay friends because a) they truly like you for who you are because they are not getting sex from this, b) there is no competition and c) they actually tell you when you look fat in these jeans….

Having said that, when in ballet, the rare straight guy comes along, all the girls (and boys….) are like “ohhhh, ahhh, uhhhh” and automatically he seems more hot than in the real world. Well he is most likely he has a nice body due to the dancing, he must actually like ballet and most guys who do ballet beyond the age of 10, are usually good at it because they had to bypass quite a few social obstacles and stereo types and seemed to work harder at it.

So in one of my classes was this guy, who sort of looked cute and kept looking at me, now again he might just like my outfit and could still be gay, but as he mostly spoke to me in a three way conversation with my friend Sally (a beautiful gay man), I assume he is straight (but hey, so do all these Christian women marrying male virgins over 35…). After that conversation we left the studio and went to have some coffee - he actually just bought me cappuccino while I was using the bathroom at Starbucks, which I did really like (note to men: do buy women cappuccinos, just in case they might want one….). And as we were talking and….hmh…the mystic of the straight ballet dancer slowly fell off Mr.Ballet. He was nice, smart, yes, but somehow pretty lost. He used to be a banker, lost his job and now just takes ballet classes (and I have no idea who pays for them….). And although we were able to commiserate about being lost, I knew that wouldn’t be the kind of guy for me (plus up close he wasn’t quite as handsome anymore….).

I am lost enough for two people. I guess in an old fashioned way, I want a man who knows what he wants, goes after it and is successful at it. Some stability, less confusion.

But again, I am trying, I am being open to more possibilities - a quick coffee date with Mr. Ballet, was a move in the right direction, or?!

I don’t know.

2010-01-25T20:07:00.001-08:00

For the most part nothing new really has been happening in this glorious new year. Why, I say glorious I am not quite sure but anyway.

Lately I have been doing some sort of reflection of my deeds and I have realized I need to be nicer. And I guess that has let me to not blogging lately because, gee all my comedy is gone once I can’t be mean anymore….no, okay it is not that bad but really, is being nice, being fun?

Well for once I noticed that I have become less friendly to certain people (MEN) I believe simply because I have been hurt pretty badly. And being mean or arrogant can quickly become a great sort of way of keeping people (MEN) at a distance and not getting hurt but of course also feeling quite isolated.

So the other day when this guy asked if he can buy me a coffee at the library, I at first, as usual, said “no.” but later actually thanked him for the offer and wished him a good night. That’s nice, or? My friend Marla claims little steps count. So I am trying, okay? I don’t want to end up like the old, angry ladies who scream at you in the subway because you are talking on your cell phone. But I also don’t want to waste anyones time.

And most of all I am not even sure what I want or what there is to give? This whole period in my life is just so damn confusing right now. Nothing seems to really make sense, somehow on some days it feels all ruined. Like I wish I could just hit the reset button and say sorry, that life crashed let’s start over. For the first time in my life I feel old, but not very wise.

I have the hardest time making any decisions. I waste time on small choices like apples or

oranges (I am so not kidding about that one, I made the lady behind me at the supermarkt pretttty crazy the other day…) because I am afraid of making the big ones. Where do I really

want to live? How can I support myself? Am I really good enough? What else do I want to

study? Am I just wasting my time? Should I be writing? Should I forget about being an artist and become a business major? Why does it feel like so many opportunities have passed? Why

did I make these choices? What I can do right today? Does every choice I make have such damn great repercussions? Will I die if I do not get the

artistic fulfillment I seek? Will I ever be loved for who I really am? Will I ever feel like safe and content? Should I start with Botox before even the first lines appear or should I just live of chocolate alone in a shed in the mountains?

I don’t have the answers to any of these questions. All I got so far are questions and fears. And I wonder whether all the great people, you know the ones who we all admire, did they know it right away? Is that what divides the special ones from the rest, that they just know really early exactly what to do? Is the rest just lost to a life of mediocrity?

I don’t know. That’s all I know.

Starting with a bit of extra luck….

2010-01-06T06:01:00.000-08:00

The start of a new year, a new decade.

I recently read in a book that it brings luck to wear a pair of new, red undies for New Year’s eve and for some reason that stayed with me (yes, I am that desperate for a bit of luck…) and so a while back I bought these red, lacy panties on sale (c’mon luck doesn’t care about if comes cheap) and did remember to wear them on the 31st.

There was actually a party on around the corner from me but because I was worried about Mr. Biology showing up there (rumor had it, he might and I could not sacrifice an other holiday….) so I pushed my new friend japanese painter friend - Fukiko - to go all the way downtown to this other party….and it was well, not so good. The apartment was great and but the people were highly uninteresting but at first glance they seemed they would be but nah…nothing.

But c’mon, universe, I was wearing my new, red undies!!!

And because the universe seemed to not keep the panty promise, I became a bitch (yes, that means that naturally I am NOT, despite how my crueler posts may have portrayed me…). And some guys, who tried to hit on me or somehow possibly just be nice or something, I rejected so unkindly that it actually makes me shake on the inside looking back (yes, even the arrogant bitch has a conscience….even when it kicks in too late at times…).

Then finally at 4 am we left that party and went to the party around the corner from where we all live and there at that party, finally the red panties did do their work and in the semi dark there, he was - a friend of a friend, with a cute smile, tired eyes and sexy hair: Nick.

Nick, from LA. Yes, I guess, you can take a girl out of LA but you can’t take LA out of the girl.

We kissed, he held me tight as we fell asleep and I made him breakfast. Six hours later he caught his plane to Brazil.

A one way ticket.

There were no butterflies, it was not specifically romantic, not actually very passionate, I don’t even know how to spell his last name but what do I want to keep?

His 6 feet hight, his wonderful strong body but most of all, the way he held me close and tight all through the night.

Because even the arrogant bitch, who rejected you at that party

giving you the feeling like she is so much better than you, even she, sometimes just wants somebody to hold her...

the end of Mr. Biology

2010-01-02T21:31:00.000-08:00

So Christmas eve went by exactly like anticipated.

Mr. Biology followed me all night long. Whenever I was in a conversation with someone, he would coincidently appear (and yes, repeatedly I tried to hide behind the oversized Christmas tree…)…then I would leave the conversation, go to the next person and sure enough he would follow. Then when he caught me at the dessert table (gee for various reasons I wish I would not have frequented those dessert tables that much during Christmas….) alone, I would use those moments to finally go the bathroom and then of course not return to him but get stuck in the kitchen “by chance”. And sure enough, a few moments later he would make his way into the kitchen looking for “something” and then surprisingly (surprise my a**) see me and again trying to talk to me.

Gosh and he would say the most unattractive things like how his pants barely fit him anymore because he gained so much around his waist!! Why, oh why would he say something like to a girl he wants to get with? Talking about fat around the waist, usually does not scream “hot”.

And really, I did feel bad for him, but the way he was almost haunting me was nerve racking. I could not have a single conversation without him trying to get my attention. And as queersome commented on my last post - shouldn’t I just tell him that I am not interested? The grown up, mature answer is of course: yes. But at the same time, I wonder if anyone wants to be rejected so head on? Don’t most people (for better or worse…) like to pretend that we are not all that attached, so we can always back out? And the thing that made Mr. Biology so unappealing besides me not being attracted to him in any way and him not at all being witty and the simple fact that we have NOTHING in common, was that he was not upfront (it was always “hang out”, never “take you out to dinner”) and did not listen. I was actually thinking about calling him and going for lunch at some point, because I thought he was a nice guy and I was hoping that I could make things clear during a light hearted lunch conversation but he kept calling me! And that is not respecting boundaries, when I say I will call him when I am feeling better because in truth I was very sick and it was not like he was offering to bring over some soup or something…

But anyway at the end of Christmas night, when he was already pretty drunk and trying to constantly stand next to me in a big group of people and trying to have a private conversation when I obviously wanted to follow the group’s conversation (and a boy who I was actually laughing with earlier and found quite attractive but we never got talking alone because I kept being haunted..), he said again:

“You know we should hang out sometime.”

And I replied:

“Because I was sick I will have to get so much work done in the next few weeks, I will barely have time.” (that should be enough…..but NO!)

“But even when you work hard, you sometimes need a break to be able to focus again.”

And then I had enough. I finally had to break it to the guy.

“See when I am taking a break, I like to be alone.”

And that was it. His face showed signs of defeat. Right there and then, it was over. Finally.

At the end of that episode I have to honestly say, sure, if he had been the same person with the same interests and insecurities but looking like an Abercrombie Model (not sure if these things even go together but just for the sake of coming to a point….) I would have gone on a date with him. BUT I would have also considered going out with him if he had been extremely charming, made me laugh, had been witty, creative and actually interested in similar things to me + if I still would not have been physically drawn to him, I would have made a great effort to become his friend….

delusions of grandeur

2009-12-20T11:37:00.000-08:00

Okay, I gave up and went to the doctor’s, who sweetly said “you are a wreck so we are treating you with everything that a wreck gets”. So now I am on proper medication and suddenly the whole i- need-to-stay-on-my-meds -joke gets a whole new dimension….anyway slowly but surely I start feeling better and the moments of feeling healthy feel like little highs, like “wow, I can stand without feeling like I might faint any second”, quickly turns into “maybe that means I can rule the world”….it’s the little finger, whole hand thing….health seems to lead to delusions of grandeur after a period of being sick...

So I have now truly caught up on all the TV shows available. Even Lost, which I had given up on midseason because I couldn’t keep track on where and who and what and when and wtf? But yeah.

And poor Mr. Biology (the boy I mentioned in “she’s not that into you”) called again. And the question on everyone’s mind is WHY?????? I keep saying, that I will call him and do not end up calling, how does he take this as invitation to keep calling? Why, oh why, does he not get the hint?

But please let this be a lesson for all of us women out there - if a guy is really interested in you, he will keep calling. Do not EVER call the guy. (Okay once you have been married for 20 years and your kid has a pneumonia, you maybe granted the one phone call….).

Honestly, if even a guy like Mr. Biology has the guts to keep calling a girl, who is so obviously out of his league (sorry to be so frank/evil) then a super hot guy will have no problem to call if he is interested….except if he is as clever as my dear friend Don Juan. Don Juan just told me that he would not call a girl, if she has not called after saying she would because it would only make himself even less interesting and how clever he is! But are all men this clever? Obviously not or poor Mr. Biology would have gotten the message….I am probably simply too nice and it’s the little finger, whole hand thing…and most definitely delusions of grandeur.

So I will see the poor guy on Christmas among a lot of people and it will be slightly embarrassing because I am sure it will be like the art opening - him standing around awkwardly, hoping to talk to me for longer and me trying to coincidently just be talking to so many other people that I do not even notice that he is following my every move….AWKWARD!!

what I want: health

2009-12-16T12:53:00.001-08:00

What the hell??? WTF???? This f***ing illness will not leave me the f*** alone. So I have spent a few days in bed doing NOTHING and then you think, hey maybe that’s all the devil wants and then finally I can go back to school writing my paper (now, imagine how sick I must be that writing my paper becomes the relief….) but NO!

I went back to the lovely Butler library here at Columbia for o-n-e day and BAM! I am back in bed coughing my heart out. Slime is coming out, it’s absolutely disgusting.

So, yesterday, in the morning I left the house in my fancy cashmere coat, no make up and big black sun glasses to conceal how terrible I look and pretend to be a superstar hiding out sick in Harlem (please, I have nothing else to do…) and go the drugstore and talk to a pharmacist about my options (meaning: how much money do you want for the good stuff?). Anyway turns out that this whole coughing business is the “way it is supposed to be” and I am thinking, hell, no!! In which universe??? Supposedly I could buy all sorts of stuff but it just has to come out. So I decided to buy the newest issue of Vanity Fair and some colorful cough drops instead of wasting money on drugs I do not need - I mean c’mon I could not come back with nothing, after all this is America!!

At 3 am I woke up because I was not able to breathe anymore and had to cough all the crap out. Now after three steaming sessions and the juice of 10 lemons I am feeling, well, still like shit. But tonight is the premiere of a play that my aunt’s niece (from the other side…) is in and that I promised I would go and see. And being in New York and not going out at all is evil, so I will see what my make up kit can do with the messed up face of mine - if nothing works I will put on the big glasses again and pretend to be some foreign movie star….

And please children, may I quote all the grandmothers in the world: health is all that matters. May it return to me swiftly….

She’s just not that into you

2009-12-12T05:54:00.000-08:00

This guy. Gosh, no. Not hot, not anything but he keeps calling. So I met him on Thanksgiving because through friends of friends I was invited to this family's house and afterwards to a get-together of a bunch of upper east side kids and he was one of them. Now, he is a rich kid but he looks like he is from the midwest - a bit chubby, a beard, curly hair (not the sexy kind) and he is into biology.

Do I need to say more?

Well, he asked me for my number to hang out and, gee, I felt too embarrassed (for him!!!) to say no, because I do like his uncle and aunt, who invited me to their Christmas dinner….so he called and this is what I did:

(Now listen up boys, this is what girls do when they are NOT into you)

The first time he called, I spoke a lot about really boring stuff in my room, talked about weird medication I have (medication NEVER screams sexy), told him how much I have to do and how I barely have time to breathe (meaning: I have no time for you).

Then I said, but hey I am going to this gallery opening of his aunt and he should totally come as well and maybe we could all go out for drinks later (meaning: I do not want to be alone with you).

Then we saw each other at the gallery and I brought my aunt and uncle (already a bad sign, mr.), who then asked me to go for drinks with them afterwards to meet a theater director and therefore I was sadly not able to go for drinks with him (meaning: THANK GOD!!!).

As we say goodbye, I tell him, hey, I am really busy this week but I'll give you a call by the end of the week to set something up (meaning: do NOT call me).

And what does he do? Yep, he calls me on Wednesday. Boy, that is not even the end of the week! Please, boys, if a girl tells you she will call you, it usually means - don't call me, I won't call you, let's just pretend this conversation never happened.

So as we speak on the phone (and I gosh I can feel he has really made sure he waits a couple days before calling….poor boy.) I go on telling him about how horribly sick I have been (which is actually the truth but if I was into him I would play it down) and he is like, so what, that means you can't leave the house (daahhh!!!!)!!! Wtf???

And I am thinking where does he get the guts from to keep calling me?? I know this sounds absolutely horrible but please, not in a million years and he should know that…does he not have friends who he relates that to? And don’t they all scream: Man, she is not that into you!!!!

The point is and here comes the truth, he barely knows me, we have nothing in common, so the reason why he is calling me is because he likes the way I look and that is just as “superficial" as me not liking his look. Please, it's the SAME. One just does not sound as cruel as the other.

So what I would usually do in a situation like this is to a) never call him and and b) just say I am uber-busy when he calls until he gets the point but since I will see him again for Christmas my solution is:

I will call him late next week and suggest lunch. And lunch in boy-girl language means: No, I do not want to date you - friends is what you can hope for.

I mean, unkind comments aside, he did seem like a nice guy. A nice, regular, not-so-attractive guy. And who wants that??? AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

contaminated outcasts

2009-12-10T10:42:00.000-08:00

This lovely blog entry comes written from my death bed.

Well, okay maybe I am overstating things a little bit but seriously I have been lying in bed for three days and after having caught up on all the abc shows - even Grey's Anatomy, which I stopped watching ages ago because that main chicks just robs me of my last nerve…- I do feel terrible!!!!

Anyway, being sick in New York City. Not so fun. Not that being sick anywhere is fun but in New York it is especially cruel because a) (the romantic reason:) there are so many other fantastic things you could be doing and b) (the sad truth:) nobody has the time to stop and take care of you + they are all afraid of catching the flu themselves and then not being able to work or having to go the doctor, which both means loosing money, which means loosing their over prized, closet sized apartment, which means they will end up under the Brooklyn Bridge.

Now, that's an American dream for you.

So besides that I have had so many teas, that I start to feel like tea cup - round and filled with with water. Then even though I have no appetite whatsoever (except some cravings for oranges and chocolate…) people keep bringing me food (meaning they leave it on my door step and then run for their lives), which they make me eat and I ended up feeling totally stuffed and might not even get the one nice side effect of a cold - shedding a few pounds. UNFAIR!!!!

In today’s society being sick, even if it is “just” a flu, because, hell, it could be the swine flu (which by the way, I have NOT), is being an outcast. People have stopped shaking hands because of fears of germs, as soon as you mention you are sick, everyone starts keeping you at least an arm’s length away from them and everybody keeps sanitizing everything all the time. Everywhere you have these horrible images of sick people with huge warnings on them and when you think of it - people not wanting to touch you, campaigns against you, being cut of from every activity - sounds pretty outcast like, or?!

So while I am pitying myself - feeling contaminated and disgusting, calling my Mom and Isa to baby me and keep drugging myself with all the over-the-counter stuff they sell you (but actually nothing is really good stuff, if you know what I mean…), I am well, ahm, yeah, no, well that’s it actually.

I am officially a contaminated outcast.

leaving to be loving

2009-11-22T12:07:00.000-08:00

The days before leaving one place and going to the next are always really weird for me because it's like my head is already in the new city but my body still needs catching up. I mean we know that pattern when my head is already towering over an Angelina Jolie like body but my body still needs to do a few sit ups to catch up…

So it's packing, throwing stuff away, deciding to keep little boxes (because hey, one day, I will make that amazing advent calendar!!) and shipping stuff out of my room, that I will know I will never unpack but I keep because I have this fantasy that one day my grand children will go through all sorts of stuff of their famous grand mother and will cherish little napkins with fantastic drawings on them and sell them on ebay for so much money, that they can help all the starving children in Africa…or something along these lines.

And a new place always means a new version of me, that I can not wait to meet. Who will I be? What will my daily life look like? And whose life will I change? Who will step into my life and alter it for a short and long while?

Saying goodbye to friends is always a bit sad but actually the beauty of knowing that with the few that are close to my heart just a day will go by until I see them again months, sometimes years later. And all the amazing online tools have made the world such a small place that going away does not even seem so bold of a move anymore.

And people may I share with all of you that I am now deciding to get some action in New York. Yes, this blog shall get some juicy content soon. I need to show my firm skin off to some appreciative pair of eyes very soon and feel like I need some passion in my work again (if I was some old artist dude, that line would be sooo cheap but being the young, hot actress I am, it makes me soo, yeah so damn deep), so I need to get over being a virgin.

And as we all know the best way to get over something is to get under someone new!!

So someone new - I welcome you into my life and pants.

And yes, maybe even my heart.

just a thought on little aliens

2009-11-20T12:57:00.000-08:00

I don't know if it is my (very f***ing young!!!!) age or what but babies or at least bellies filled with these little aliens seem to be popping out everywhere. And these people scare me. Because I feel hurried by them, or eager to tell them that they are making a mistake although I don't even know if they are.

Kids.

They are like a play you write. You write it with the best intentions, seeing all the moments in your head, hearing your characters say that particular thing at in that particular way and then you let someone else direct and they get this tall, skinny blonde to play the part of the short, red haired (or at least that is how it was in your head…) girl.

And kids, I feel, are the same. In my head I have certain visions of what my kids will be like, what kind of things I will offer them, how I will give them the best start in life etc. and then what? What if they turn around when they are 13 and scream at you or worse don't speak at all but decide to only communicate via twitter??

So they are like a time bomb. Who knows how they will become. Plays or kids. You put all the best in them but the outcome, gee that depends on so many other things, so many other people. Trusting the kindness of strangers is hard.

Yesterday I met up with Donald's daughter. Surprisingly enough she - let's call her - Jinny with the help of her mother contacted me without Donald knowing about it, which was good because when I first got a text message from Jinny, I thought it was Donald's doing - using his daughter to get to me…but no, she, the 10 year actually thought of me and her mother, the woman I spent so much time hating for no or at least not enough reason, sent me a text because they were thinking about me!

I have not seen Jinny in a year but it was like it was yesterday, we talked and cuddled and she is just the most wonderful and kind creature, a lovely, beautiful little girl. And I love her, I do.

But gosh was I scared of the time bomb KID, when I was still with Donald, because hey you can't just return them or have them put to sleep once they are not cuddly anymore…

One day, I do want some of my own. But that one day, does definitely not need to be tomorrow.

five ways to make and save cash

2009-11-13T15:21:00.000-08:00

Money, money, money.

Somehow where it comes from (the ATM?), how you get it (Mom?) and where it goes (American Airlines?) is still all a complete mystery to me because, hell, I already feel like I live on a complete shoe string and work my ass off!!!

Now, I am about to move to New York, a city notorious for it's high prices and I do not even know how I will be able to afford it - so here comes: my plans for making money:

1) Prostitution

I can always go to 42nd street and make some money off these boobs I got. Good idea, but hey, maybe next time.

2) Bodily Fluids

One way of earning some extra cash was that I actually went and gave Plasma. It's a thing that helps people (yes, the saint in me) and helps me financially. But gosh if I wouldn't know that they have to test everybody on alcohol, drugs and other diseases, I would say a homeless shelter just unloaded their costumers, yes, it was that bad.

3) Food

Food - totally overrated. I mean don't they say that fasting for a week a year is really healthy. I might as well do that for a week while in New York - safes money and is good for me, right? Then again, I could also live off the Starbucks brown sugar dissolved in water for a week, grab some free pickles and free honey sticks from the university cafeteria and steal an apple off one of my new room mates - cheap and I get all my vitamins. And hey, maybe that will even lead to a professional modeling career or get me a gig on some commercial about the American health care system.

4) Prostitution 2

Find a rich boyfriend.

Nah….too tacky.

5) Bodily Fluids 2

I heard that people pay crazy amounts of money for unwashed women's underwear and I go through the trouble of washing them all the time! Maybe I should set up a web site on which I sell mine….hmh…now, there is something to think about.

Relationships

2009-11-07T02:30:00.000-08:00

Relationship.

Even the word itself is weird. To be in "relation" to someone. When we relate to someone, we understand their inner world and when we are related we share parts of the same makings of that inner world. At least so is the ideal situation.

I think right now in my life, no word (besides someone screaming, BOMB! at the airport….) scares me as much as that certain boat. When I look around me I do know a lot of people in happy, fulfilling relationships and I am really good at giving other people confidence in finding that sort of bliss for them selves but me, little me, gosh I am so scared.

Not scared of never finding that one (or one of the possible ones…) in whose arms I feel safe and can rest my busy heart and mind. But I am scared of in the meantime being in a relationship from hell again. Because let's face it, often getting out of a relationship is as hard or sometimes even harder than getting out of one.

Many of my beautiful, talented absolutely fantastic friends are in relationships that make them more sad than they make them happy. And if I wouldn't know the sticky, disgusting warm but weirdly comforting feeling of constant misery, I couldn't understand them at all. Sure now being on the other side and never wanting to get back to the hell I have been in before it seems lunatic to want to stay in it, but I remember being so used to the feeling that it became a comfort.

And I NEVER want to be in that type of situation again. NEVER. And yes, that may make me scared of relationships and yes, it may make me become a virgin again but next time I am with someone, he will be inspiring, kind, intelligent, beautiful and uber-sexy, successful, faithful, loving, artistic, relaxed, witty, calm, exciting and I will feel loved and safe in his arms, with no doubt. Because I feel loved and safe by myself first of all. (no, this line is not from oprah.)

Then some girlfriends ask me - "do you really think, there are men out there, who are that good?"

And I reply "YES!!"

and

either way it is too f***ing early to give up hope and settle for anything less.

always sex

2009-11-06T15:08:00.001-08:00

Tonight I want to share an amazing piece of wisdom with all of you.

A piece of wisdom that has enlightened me and it is about: SEX.

Sure, if you have read my last post, you might think "hey what does that spinster (but very hot spinster I might add haha…) know about that topic."

a) probably not much because, gee, I really can't remember much of it anymore. Note to myself: drink less before intercourse.

but

b) I do talk about it a lot and yes, from talking (although it rarely happens) came the enlightenment.

The other night, after my post about men and them just wanting to have sex, I had this really great chat with this young director - cool, weird name - Henning (you know like the writer Hennig Mankell - see this blog has actual cross culture, literary references, kind of like the New Yorker…). Henning and I shot a short this past summer and had an "emotional - on-set- romance". I usually have one of those on every set, I usually feel a great chemistry with either the director or one of the actors, so far I have never acted on it because it's usually gone after the last "CUT" but while it lasts, it's always fun….ANYWAY.

We were talking online and I was saying:

"So here we are 2 am, let's for once from you to me, alone in this virtual universe (yeah I can get pretty poetic late at night…) be fully honest: for you men, is it always JUST about sex????"

And he replied with one of the greatest insights into men:

"Sex: always.

but not always "just sex""

Do you get it?? It is BRILLIANT! Yes, ALWAYS, fu**ing, every single time you interact with a man, who is not closely related it is about sex, but if you are lucky, there is more to it. Either they are truly interested in you work related, or fall in love with you, or are in love with someone else and therefore can maintain a friendship or you remind them so much of their mother it makes them sick (or then again totally turns them on for that matter…). But either way SEX is always part of the deal with men.

So , WOMEN out there, let's just accept it, let's not fight it, let's play with it!! Play their weak side, while you show them the rest….

Always sex but not always just sex.

what a choice

2009-11-05T13:05:00.000-08:00

I have become a virgin.

Seriously. I mean Isa and I always jokingly question each other if one can actually reverse to being a virgin again in the case of staying abstinent for too long and now we have the answer...

I went to the gynecologist the other day and I was telling her about my not or barely having my period (sorry boys, yeah, I know you try to pretend women never have that…) and she goes like - could you be pregnant? And I say "well, it'd have to be Jesus."

Then we go on doing an ultra sound, just to check if everything is okay in there and she says "well, yes, the ovaries have stopped producing certain feminine hormones, as you have no love interest and no sexual intercourse." My ovaries just thought "men, we stop working - nothing coming in for a long time anyway!". She goes on giving me the medical advice, to actually go out and have sex. Yeah, I called my mother relating that story to her and she wanted to call that doctor and tell her something about turning good girls bad but that's beside the point.

Anyway the doctor continued telling me that my body also ended up producing more testosterone. So not only have I biologically reversed to being a virgin, no, now I am actually a male virgin.

The upside, she said, to having more testosterone in your body is that one feels more energetic and strong. Now that I take the pill again, I will get more females hormones induced into my body and that might make me less energetic and more sensitive to mood swings but my skin will be glowing. Now I wonder what all the gender obsessed people out there think about that - male hormones = strong energetic, no periode or female hormones = weak, moody and bloody. Great.

So either I am a male virgin or a moody weak girly but with great skin I might add.

What a choice.

Men.

2009-10-31T17:25:00.000-07:00

Yes. I wish these creatures would not my occupy my mind at all. But they do. I mean they do want to be taken seriously but they tend to behave in ways that make it really hard.

What do they really mean when they say something?! I mean people (then again that just might be penis portion) always say that women are so damn complicated and okay maybe we are but are men really that simple? I mean do they always say everything only to possibly get their way with you??

Is is really all about SEX??? Really???

Working in a business (the film business that is…) that has so many myths surrounding it and where you need to prove yourself over and over again in front of yet an other person - because in which other industry do you need to go in for interviews so many times a year, even when you DO get a job. You have to audition again and again. And as a woman you do that mostly for men.

Simple reality. More women wanting to get into the business, more men holding the power.

So when I am meeting one of these powerful men these days and they say all the right things at exactly the right time - do those sweet words really mean something?

Please you men out there. Please be honest with us. Do you just want to get us into bed? Then, c'mon grow a pair and just say it. Don't flatter our intelligence when all you can think of is, if you can see a nipple through my shirt. PLEASE.

And the sad thing is, I wish I could say now; if sex is really ALL it is about then please hand the power over to more capable women but sadly women tend to often not support other women, no, they support other men. So men want to f*** women and women often f*** other women over. So? Solution?

why not just sex?

2009-10-28T06:19:00.000-07:00

So I just got back from London (no, no connection to London boy!) and loved it!!

Although when I think about it, I am not entirely sure why. London is overly crowed at almost all times, living costs are horrendous, locals are not particularly hot (similar to Vienna....), buses run whenever, there is nice architecture but so many parts

are sketchy or they simply put the exact same house right next to each other about 100 times, somehow it often feels just a little dirty and of course, the weather sucks. BUT the feeling one gets when walking around, the energy that locals have, the amount of possibilities, the cultural offerings, the very beautiful little buildings in certain areas, the many fireplaces inside oh and the fantastic shopping...yes these things (and many more I am sure!!) make the city sooo amazing. It truly is a big, big city.

One night I spent couch surfing at some guys house - a very hot Australian. He lives down south in a suburb called Clapham in one of those beautiful houses (one of the ones with 100 copies) and I got a great futon space in the living room! We just sat down on the couch and started chatting. He was a bit sick and taking medicine, so we couldn't go out for drinks. And that kind of all ready sealed the "no-we-wont-get-drunk-and-have-sex-deal", which I first thought was a

shame. Okay I just want to say it's not that I need alcohol to have sex with someone (then again it's been soooo long, I might need something to help me...) but sleeping with someone after having known him just for an hour or so and maybe never seeing him again - yeah, without alcohol as the excuse I am not that cool.

Anyway, except some light flirting and a sweet email from him the next day,

nothing happened. But I have to also admit that I thought to myself, as I was sitting across from him and seeing him just a little blurred (it was my no-contacts-glasses-day but I was too vain to wear them...), do I really need to sleep with this guy?

I might have forgotten how great Sex actually is - talking to my dearest friend -naming her now- Isabella, that might as well be the case. Is it actually possible to revert to being

a virgin??? Maybe, I would have to get a mirror and check....

I mean he was really hot. But somehow the fact that he does not have a job he is absolutely passionate about or has no other great, big passion etc. seemed to make him seem, well, a bit boring. I mean the conversation was not boring but he didn't inspire me in any great way. Sure, okay you might think now, who needs that if it is just about sex. But then do I want just sex with someone? I am not sure. I do not particularly want a relationship but even "just-sex", I feel should be with someone amazing...gee I don't know. I wish there would have been some alcohol to clear it up....

PS: I am being very unfair - he might have some hidden amazing qualities that I have not discovered that one night. To be fair I will give him an other chance next time in London....gee, I am such a good person. (yes, I do know how stupid that sounds.)

London boy

2009-10-18T13:27:00.000-07:00

I have to say that this year of celibacy has worked out pretty well for me.

For real, besides tiny little hick ups I have stayed emotionally as well as physically celibate this year. The great thing about it is that I have had truly time to focus on other things in my life. My career is finally moving on (I have two TV gigs!) and I have finished lots of stuff for school. I have started running and keeping my room tidy (y

eah that one has been a long hard road....) and picked up learning french. (gosh somehow that sounds like the daily life of a senior citizen...but hey it is really awesome.)

The down side is that I do wonder whether I am wasting the precious years of my skin being firm and my breasts being up there. Shouldn't I share myself with the world? Here we get back to the whole "can't-be-a-slut-even-though-I-am-sure-it-would-be-more-fun-thing". But honestly sleeping around is tough in a town like Vienna, I mean the guys here are just so ahm, let's put it mildly - unappealing. Seriously besides the weather, the sun, the warmth, the beach, the ocean, the superstars, the fancy salads and the cheap nail salons, what I miss the most about LA are the beautiful people.

But then again I actually did meet a hot, single guy. Ha, I am sure all you single women looking for a hot guy are now waiting to hear the magic location: my kitchen. Yep. I guess the whole you have to leave the house to meet someone is not always true.

One of my current room mates is - let's give him a fancy new italian name - Carlo from Rome. And no, Carlo is not the hot guy in my kitchen (sorry Carlo!). But Carlo and I were talking in the kitchen and suddenly this boy tumbles into the kitchen with piercing blue eyes

and jet black hair and I am thinking "helloooo there and why did I not bother to brush my hair this morning!?". Turns out the pretty boy is one of Carlo's friends, an Erasmus stud

ent from England. London boy looks like he could be Kate Moss's boyfriend - you know pretty but slightly used, so young that f***ed up looks hot. London boy and I hit it off right away and he has been over a few times visiting Carlo and we met on the street the other day -

he was on his way to a model agency who scouted him off the street....gee he is hot. Not LA perfect-beach-boy but London-I-have-had-too-many-drugs hot. I like it, makes me feel like a teenager again because he looks so boyish. Not at all the guy to bring home to your mom but totally the guy to end up drunk with in a corner somewhere...

So nothing for me.

At least I hope so....

A full glass.

2009-10-17T15:56:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it is the sudden change of temperature or the cycle of life or just a shitty day but right now, right here in this yellow room I am not sure what to do.

Should I go to bed. Or should I read or write or sit with my back to the heater and agonize about life. What would be the appropriate thing to do? What the hell does "appropriate" mean anyway. Why the f*** does time go on so quickly. Who made that up anyway?

What I am going to with my life? What I am going to do with fears that don't concern where I

will sleep tomorrow night or where I will get food from. I don't think God has anticipated that when he created us. The fact that my fears do not stem from ending up famished on the side of the road (although in very dark hours, the whole "on the side of the road" image has crossed my mind...) but what I am going to do with my life? Where will I live? Where will my money come from? What can I accomplish? Will I ever get married? Will I feel like my work has been worth something? Will I ever feel complete? Will the question of "why" ever make sense to me?

How can I worry about missed opportunities when I am only in my early 20s? Where did all those drops of that f***ing glass go that I even have to think about it either being half full or half empty?

I want a damn full glass. No half either way. A glass overflowing with life for me please.

makes me question the whole love thing

2009-06-24T13:39:00.000-07:00

Now seriously F*** this! Gosh Donald and I have been broken up for almost a year now and still I get the late night phone calls with the weird energy....

D: "I see you don't use facebook as much anymore."

YEAH because I hate the feeling of being stalked!

ME: "Well, yeah because it's just not so interesting to me anymore."

D: "Oh. Ahm what does this update mean: 'Life is wonderful'"

Well that actually means I finally feel like a free, SINGLE person.

ME: "Well, after feeling shitty for a pretty long time. life just felt good again."

Then he goes on asking me about each and every update that has occurred in the last few weeks and patiently I answer. And of course all he wants to know with each word he utters is whether I have been seeing someone new. Man, he upsets me to level of me hanging up and screaming "what the f*** is wrong with you, leave me the f*** alone." and then he cracks, becomes all soft and sad and I feel bad because the poor (lying, cheating) boy is just still in love with me - although he wont admit it but instead screams wild things into the phone before he cries.

And there I forget how much it hurts when you are in love with someone who is just not in love with you in return. And the scary thing sitting on this end of it all, I realize now how little the other person actually cares when they are just not in it anymore. I mean sure sometimes I remember the good times and that I was truly in love with him once a long, long time ago. But do I miss him? No. Sure I miss a nice, warm body next to me at times but that might as well be Jude Law's body....point is I do not miss much about Donald the person.

But still scary how I can be so cold towards someone I loved so much. Makes me question the whole love thing....but that's for an other time.

think before you walk

2009-03-19T00:19:00.000-07:00

Living in LA days, weeks can go by with barely moving. Most things are ground level and we walk to our cars (usually parked as close as possible to the front door....), drive to our destination and then most likely rather circle the same block three times before considering to park a little bit further away and walk. They say in Los Angeles you drive to walk and it's true - if one wants to walk one usually drives to some canyon and hikes.

Living in a city like Vienna or New York, your simple daily life requires you to move - walking up and down tiny, steep staircases, walking to the subway station, biking somewhere etc.. Even if you had a car in a city like that you would never find the same type of parking convenience.

Daily life in LA has none of that. You actually need to think before you walk, need to think in order to move. So I have started to park my car a little further away from my destinations - I am actually so eager to walk that I jump at any possibility to do so. My dear girlfriend Soraya (same as Sorya, I just spelled her 'name' wrong) was slightly confused when I nervously jumped up when they called our number at a Mexican restaurant, because I desperately needed an other reason to walk...but no worries before I freak out all my dear LA friends with my sudden desire to serve them by getting their food, water or other supplies, I shall find other ways to move my body more...

the simple fact

2009-03-01T22:25:00.000-08:00

I was running really fast. I had not run in a while and it felt as if running was a new sensation to my limbs, my muscles, my entire body. I ran and then I stopped, slightly out of breath, looking around me. And all I could see were dead ends. There was no horizon in sight, just houses, cars and noise.

Sometimes I feel that there are moments completely void of time, it's like one could linger there forever without anything ever changing. Then you skip a beat and time continues, life continues.

At times my breath stops somewhere between my mouth and my lungs and only tiny bits of oxygen get through and my heart starts pounding and all I want to do is curl up somewhere, where I feel safe. But where is that?

I miss him. Everyday and every waking moment I miss him. I try to not think about him because it just hurts too much, rips my heart into too many pieces. This problem that I can't fix. This problem no one can fix. I am really happy and really grateful for all the good things in my life, because there are so many. I just can't shake this feeling of being alone, having lost who I loved the most. He was the only person, who could hug me and make me feel safe, give me the feeling like he never had to let go. He was always there, never late.

Sometimes I still can't believe he is not here anymore, so I dial his phone number and the voice on the other line says: "This call is not possible anymore." The voice is unemotional and detached. Not pitying nor mean. Just stating a simple fact.

The simple fact, that I am alone now.

2009, my year of celibacy

2009-02-26T12:38:00.000-08:00

So it's been about two weeks since my decision to change. And as I am working on myself I actually have to get on an even tighter leash. CELIBACY. Ha, it's not like I have been sleeping around with a lot of guys (i wish....) but still finding the next one or making too much time for someone like Dean in my life, has lessened my ability to be happy (and has made me gain about 10 pounds for the first time in years....might also have to do with the fact that my main workout is the walk from and to the car but that's of course beside the point...). The thoughts I have wasted...gee all the other things I could have thought about....world peace, how to cure cancer and wondering if God really exists, would have just a been a few of the outlets....

Celibacy is the new thing for me. 2009 will be my year of celibacy. The other night I was at a party, actually a semi-fancy party in Bel Air with fancy industry people. And I was talking and hanging out but I did NOT go for the walk. The walk is this thing us girls do, we find some excuse to just walk through the crowd, looking if there is some hot guy. And I decided to not do that. I actually spend my time sober, this time around (oh I completely forgot to tell the story of the night of me getting completely wasted....shall follow soon...) talking to random people. It was nice.

I really need this year, at least those 10 months until 2010 to focus only on myself and not deal with any bullshit. I can not remember when I really felt fulfilled and empowered by a romantic relationship and right now I need all my energy for my life, my dreams and my career. It's not about being egotistical but it's like when an airplane crashes, you first need to put the life west on yourself before helping anyone else.

So of course if the ONE and only comes along in 2009, the prince who sweeps off my feet I will surrender but until then I will stick to celibacy. Emotional celibacy at least....

Yes, I can.

2009-02-06T19:40:00.000-08:00

Change. Today I decided to change my life. Let me rephrase: today I changed my life.

It all started with me being so completely messed up on the inside as I was driving through the heavy rain (because when it rains in California, it pours...) that I ran out of gas in the middle of Chinatown. The traffic was of course crazy and out of fear of stopping in the middle of an intersection I parked somewhere and walked (! - yes in LA that deserves a exclamation mark) through the heavy rain to the next gas station. Then I ended up completely out of it at my friends --new name -- Sorya. She fed me, gave me warm socks and listened to the reason why I was actually so messed up in the first place:

Dean. Of course. How predictable. So he spent (again) four hours at my place last night from 10pm to 2pm. First we talked for about two hours about life. There I found out that he actually has broken up with girls by changing his phone number repeatedly (makes it supposedly easier), that he has cheated repeatedly, left one girl for an other in a flash, is a gambler and that he was addicted to pretty much any drug you can name (yes, that includes heroin). So you would think, me being a relatively sane girl all of that information would turn me off. But no, for some reason all of that was blanked out by the "way he makes me feel".

So we started doing our scene and it started out with us doing it very stand offish, not even a kiss to begin with. But each time we did it, it became more and more sexual until we basically performed the act with our clothes on - all that of course being part of the scene (who am I fooling!?). I mean we were not just breathing each others breath, he was on top of me, between my legs, licking my face...okay enough details. So after that I was out of it. It was like this big game. Then we started talking and explained to me that he wants me to hate him. And he needs to hate me. Because either he loves or hates someone and the rest is a waste. And since I wont be in his life forever he prefers to hate me. We did this with me sitting on his lap. It was all weird, the energy was messed up. He said that he wants to hurt me, because it shows that I care. I kept trying to say something along the lines of wanting to be friends but he rejected all of that. It was this weird power game that totally messed with my head. Then he left.

I was only able to sleep four and a half hours until I woke up still feeling all messed up. And ended up without gas in Chinatown...

But then the revelation came (and that seems to happen for me often during rainy days...) that I need to start making a change. My mother wasted a large portion of her life completely wasting away for the wrong guy (for her). I am doing it differently, I have the power to make the change. So I did not call him, although I said I would. He called me, I did not pick up. I needed a break for a day and that is what I did. Although I may think I want him, I actually do not. The only thing I may want is for him to want me but that is not as important as my personal happiness. I am starting to make beneficial choices for myself.

I am choosing to not at all get involved with Dean. Yes, I can.

I Feel Something New

2009-02-01T22:06:00.000-08:00

Well you know they (or is it just me?) say that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. So far I have not gotten under someone but it seems as though I am getting into someone else....

His name is --- gosh it is taking forever to think of a good name for him because I am so infatuated---- Dean. I met him at acting class (sorry, but I really don't do much else...) about three weeks ago. There was right away a spark but I was still in the whole waiting for this other guy (sorry I forgot his name) to call. Anyway three weeks later we are assigned new scene partners. I was supposed to be with someone else but that other guy called ---new name ---- Andrew and I have conflicting schedules plus I thought I would probably we issued a scene with Dean, if I mention that Andrew and I can not do it together. So I slightly manipulated the situation to get a scene with Dean, although the whole thing with the conflicting schedules is true.

So we got a scene from Closer, which is hilarious because in 2007 I actually played "Alice" in Closer. This time around though I am playing "Anna" and Dean is "Larry".

So the (big) problem right of the bat is that he has a girlfriend, who is even living with. And I have NEVER been really into someone with a girlfriend, at least not when I was single.

It's so weird - a week or so ago, I was driving (well that's what I am doing mostly...) and I thought to myself the next guy I end up with, I want to get to know before we have sex. Because usually I can not hold back, if I am into someone then I just want to be as close to them as soon as I can. But I felt I want to know how it would work otherwise but I could not imagine a situation where this would be possible and I would be able to hold back. Well the universe, GOD, has mysterious ways and things we manifest come true.

So now I am getting to know him and I definitely wont be sleeping with him while he is in a relationship with someone else. I am not the other woman.

Having said that...the other day he spent four hours here. Our scene involves one quick kiss. But we turn it into minutes of tender kissing (but no tongue!! sorry to be so explicit but I don't want any confusion...). Then we continue and pretend it is all part of the scene. And the end of the scene we make so sexual that I am pressed against the wall and we breathe each others breath until we are so turned on that we have to kiss again. Then afterwards we sat on the couch for hours with our legs intervened talking about our lives...

With him I feel something really special in the pit of my stomach.

I feel something new.

I am NOT that girl.

2009-01-27T00:01:00.000-08:00

Today was the celebration of Cameron's mother's life (the positive version of a funeral...) and I decided to not send a text or an email, although my beautiful friend - name change - Shilo said it would only be human. But she is a woman. I sent a Don Juan a message and he replied:

"If you are over him it's human. If not it's stupid. Do the right thing kiddo. Kizz DJ"

And I have to admit that I am not fully over him yet. Not enough to not feel rejected in case he does not reply. And with my last courses of action I went with what the girls said and we all know how that went. Now I listen to Don Juan - after all he is a guy, usually the guy who girls cry over, so he must know. Right?

Damnit what is it that I want? What do I think is right? I don't know. I think it is not to say anything. I have already sent his father a book. We have already established that I am a good person. Fucking saint like is what I am. "Your thoughtfulness is so uncommon", is what Cameron wrote in a totally generic thank-you-email for the book.

Now, okay after looking for about a million good reasons for why I should send Cameron a text, although I do know in the pit of my stomach that it is wrong I actually managed to not do anything. Don Juan is completely right with his simple assessment. And the truth is I would just want Cameron to think/know what a great caring person I am and so maybe he wants to see me again. Well, I think he has bigger things to worry about than calculated kindness.

Where is the big, fat STUPID flag? Really, have I become that girl? Well, I managed to stop myself and now I will go to bed. Slowly letting go. I am not that girl.

make a wish

2009-01-25T11:33:00.000-08:00

Slowly I am getting over myself. Very slowly but I am getting there.

So I figured trying to date someone else as soon as possible is the solution. Guess what, it's not.

Pressuring something to happen, does not really help. It is okay to wish for something (f.ex. a super-uber-hot guy, who is witty, intelligent, kind and ambitious) but then we just have to let the wish go. Not obsess over it.

In one of those new age books they say, making a wish and believing it will happen is like if you order a book you really like from amazon. Maybe you think about excitedly before it arrives but you actually never worry whether it will come or not, or?! You just click and then don't think about it really until you happily have it!

This is the way I intend to live my romantic life now. Because I do believe with all my heart that the right guy(s) will come into my life, so why waste time worrying before he/they do?

C'mon wake up to yourself!

2009-01-24T10:28:00.001-08:00

Gosh I just realized how UTTERLY STUPID my last post was.

Ladies: There are no signs - the only "sign" would be if he was to call me and wants to see me. And that would not be a sign but an action. And as we have learned reading this wonderful blog - it's ALL about the actions. And there are NONE.

So I need to clear my heart and mind and refocus.

I am a pretty girl alone in Los Angeles. I could imagine a worse situation.

A sign?

2009-01-24T08:23:00.000-08:00

Last night was supposed to be my first night out with the girls, getting drunk and hoping to end up in some strangers arms to finally put a body between Cameron and me.

So I arrived at this place called Dresdon - one the famous bars in Los Angeles. Happily my first trip was to the bathroom to fix me up somewhat and then as I stumbled to the main floor, I see - for the sake of this his name shall be...- Thomas.

I just looked up the exact population of the LA metropolitan area and it is almost 13 Million people. And of these 13 Million people, Cameron and I maybe share three people, as good acquaintances or friends. And Thomas is one of the three.

Thomas and I were all happy to see each other and then right away his first question "So have you been seeing Cameron?" Obviously they have not spoken in a while. So I tell him in a nutshell what happened and then he reminds me of how into me Cameron actually was. And I am going like AHHH FUCK I KNOW. I mean it was not all in my head, there are actual witnesses! Then he said he was going to call him later this week anyway and will mention that we met and that Cameron should call me sometime....

I did still plan on getting drunk but my girlfriend - new name - Maria got so utterly wasted so quickly that we had to cut the night short. So I spent it sulking. And now this morning, instead of going to my arial arts class, I lie in bed sulking.

I miss him.

I am so sorry but that is the honest truth. And I am sad that we do not talk at all anymore.

I know that it is probably bad that Thomas will now play little messenger and that it almost invites another rejection but stupid, utterly hopeless me can not help but secretly hope that it might be a sign...

some version of me.

2009-01-19T23:40:00.000-08:00

It has been a few days and I have not cried. Not even once. But I do get this bitter, hard feeling in my gut sometimes.

Cameron was my "good thought" during the last few months. Whenever I would feel upset or uneasy, I thought of him or actually I thought of our photos. Because, man, we looked so great in these photos. We looked so happy, in love. You know it's like when you see these couples in magazines or on the street and they are so beautiful and it all just looks so easy, so perfect and you wish you could be part of that - well that's exactly how I felt when I looked at images of us and that is where my thoughts went in moments of uncertainty....the memory, the idealization of "us" was my daydream And now when I feel lost, a little lonely and unsure, my mind still goes to that place for a moment only to then realize the images have been deleted. All there is now is a cold void.

I can't look at these photos anymore because I am so hatefully jealous of the girl in them, a girl who seems to have it all.

Some version of me.

still cheaper than a therapy session

2009-01-15T18:41:00.000-08:00

Today was probably the first time that I have truly felt single since I graduated four years ago. And you know what - it was okay.

Well more or less. I left the house early to get to my improv class and was driving up Barham Blvd and some pop band was singing how great it is to be broken up and I was pumped up by it, singing loudly along. So even though I was early I still wanted to change lanes and get ahead quickly - fueled by the desire to get quickly over something (because it really was a "thing" - the idea - more than the person) and slightly crashed into this truck sideways. It only smashed my right light. It sucks and it will cost me between 100 and 200 bucks but that's still cheaper than a therapy session...

The End

2009-01-15T00:18:00.000-08:00

We finally spoke on the phone and ended it. I said that I feel too stupid in all of this but that I wish him all the best. He agreed and that was it. No argument, no disagreeing.

All it was an idea that I fell for. Some beautiful photos of two beautiful people looking like they are in love. But that wasn't it. Sometimes it can look, smell and taste like love but turn out to be something completely different.

Funny enough I cried once or twice last week. But tonight, I tried but I could not shed a tear.

cool as a cucumber

2009-01-14T00:40:00.000-08:00

Wow. Now I get some cheap ass text message saying that he has a big audition tomorrow and that he will call me after five. That at least makes the first portion of the day a bit better - because I wont be waiting for a phone call. Then from five o'clock on I shall start staring at my phone until he finally decides to ring.

And what sucks the most is that I had this terribly lovesick week but of course tomorrow when he calls I will be cool as a cucumber. And again it sucks being a woman at times.

The Spiral Of Misery

2009-01-13T15:28:00.000-08:00

This needs to be over very, very soon. Why did he even have to call me yesterday if he is not able to call me back today? I do not get it. And I want it to be over as soon as possible.

I just tried calling him back again because at this point I am not hoping for a romantic relationship anymore, I just want out of this "waiting position". I am so over this.

I am back to writing emails that I will never sent, watching my phone - waiting for it to ring, ring, ring....and feeling a little useless. Back in the spiral of misery.

All I Want To Share Is Happiness

2009-01-12T21:28:00.001-08:00

Now isn't that funny in a very VERY sick way:

Cameron called today.

So after I have deleted all his text messages, emails, phone number, photos etc. and proclaimed to me and the world that I am done with all of this. And really I felt great the entire day - went to my acting class and saw friends I have not seen in months and for the first time in a week, did not spend my time thinking about him....he calls.

I had my phone on silent, so I missed his call. He left me a message in the MOST casual way possible "Hey you" blah blah blah. I could seriously kill him for the casualty.

Now I just called him back and he did not pick up. Actually his mobile box is full - might be an indicator for how truly busy he has been with people calling him this past week....anyway for now I am back to waiting for him to call me. What a suck worthy situation.

And really I have thought about it today, before he called....I really do not need all of this. I just got out of a relationship that was full of heartache and problems. Now all I want is happiness, that is all I want to share with someone. Not, that I don't want to be there for him during his hard time - quite the contrary actually - but I do not want any problems or games between him and I. I rather be just friends than have the whole not calling for a week. And I will actually tell him that.....when we finally do talk.

Goodbye

2009-01-12T09:53:00.000-08:00

A week of being absolutely useless and lovesick. I AM DONE. Seriously.

I have all the understanding in the world for a difficult situation etc. but to not even pay me the respect of a text message. NOTHING.

So goodbye Cameron and all the dreams attached to you. Because all it was, was dreams. All you ever did was talk. And your sweet talk made me forget the most important rule my father has always repeated to me:

It is not about what people say but what they do.

And frankly he has done nothing. Or not much at least. Most of my nice memories have to do with sweet things he said like:

"I am so into you, I could write a 20 page paper on whether you look better with your hair up or down."

or things we experienced together like:

We were at the Beverly Mall together and I went into a few shops while he waited on one of these couches and I saw him from far away and thought to myself that this beautiful man is waiting for me...so I ran up to him and tackled and kissed him and all the people around us started clapping....

Sweet memories like these have fueled my heart and have let my feelings grow while we were apart. But now the reality has caught up with me. I had fallen for an idea, an idealized memory and now I need to say "Goodbye" and move on with my life.

a, b, c or d?

2009-01-11T10:17:00.001-08:00

He has not called.

And gosh I am soooo annoyed by my own sulking. This is agonizing and absolutely stupid. Who is this person, that is wearing my clothes and can't get over some stupid boy? I DO NOT LIKE HER.

So today I have been going through all the different new action plans....

a) Call again.

Too humiliating.

b) Email him.

And say what?

c) Text him.

Yeah and then worry about whether he actually got the text or not.

c) The classic: fake a pregnancy.

Too involved.

d) Do nothing.

And keep agonizing.

a, b, c or d? Which one will it be??

And yes, of course I am not serious about c). I am going crazy but I am not mentally ill.

At least not yet.

7 days to recovery

2009-01-09T02:55:00.000-08:00

At 2.35 am I am woken up by text messages. But NO, of course they are not from Cameron. They are from Donald. Because Donald is the one who loves me and needs to speak urgently to me about his house in Australia. Just an excuse? Probably.

I do not hold the not-calling against Cameron. He never promised me anything - the tried though, but I would always say, please lets focus on what we have now, the future will come anyway. But he has always been more concerned about the future than the now. Actually most concerned he seems with the afterlife. So he makes sure he does not have too good of time this life around, so the next one maybe full of bliss. CRAZY. Okay as I get more distance from the guy (of course although I still do not want any....) I realize some things.

But either way I need got over my lovesickness and these are my 7 days to recovery:

Day 1) Delete all the text messages I ever got from him.

That is a very important one, because there is nothing more harmful, than being concerned with some idealized past when the present looks very different.

Day 2) Put all his emails into a folder other than my inbox but NOT one being labeled "Cameron".

That way I wont see them anymore when I open my email account. Possible step in the future is to completely delete them, if for some reason I keep going back for some reason to read them.

Day 3) Make sure that everything he ever gave me is in a box somewhere out of my reach.

There should be nothing to remind me of him.

Day 4) Put all his photos on my computer in separate folder and put that somewhere, where I never look. DELETE all the photos from my phone, ipod and digital camera.

From now on I shall never look at his photos again, especially not when I am out and about. And NEVER shall I show his photo to anyone ever again.

Day 5) Write down his phone number in a safe place, somewhere in my room, where I would have to look for it. Then delete it from my phone.

I should never be able to drunk dial him or send him a message in a weepy moment.

Day 6) Mention him one last time to friends, family or blog and then

do my best to shut the fuck up about him.

This is obviously the hardest task and this is why I give myself five to achieve

that one. But this is also the most important task. Sure, of course it is hard at

first but I will get over him and the less I speak about him the sooner this will

be the case

Day 7) I will rest.

I guess my time with him has made me a bit more Christian.

PS:

2009-01-08T16:59:00.001-08:00

Of course I do realize how self-centered and horrible I must partly sound. The boy lost his beloved mother not even 10 days ago and I am lying around being sad that he does not call. I should totally be above that. After all I know best how worthless and inconsequential everything else feels when you loose who you love the most.

I promise I will stop bathing in this pseudo-lovesick state very, very soon.

unrequited love is the sweetest love of all

2009-01-08T15:42:00.000-08:00

3.42 pm and he has not called me back.

Let's face it - he might just not be that into me. And that's a first.

I once read somewhere that pretty girls have an easy life, never knowing what rejection actually feels like. They grow up being adored by their fathers and can later on choose from a pool of men, who they actually want to be with.

And in a way that has been true for me. I grew up being over-the-top loved and adored by my parents (who had a disastrous relationship themselves). My father always only loved me - he put me above every single person and I actually did the same, which made it difficult for people around us, especially my mother. She has always felt that she was only my second choice, which to be brutally honest she was not so wrong about. But she adores me to an unhealthy degree. A few weeks ago she actually called me and said:

"You know I miss you so much sometime. That just to see you more, I would live with you in the same house again even if you hit me every day."

Isn't that the sickest and in a way, I guess, most extreme loving thing ever? I was like:

"Mom, please stop saying that. I am not ever going to hit, nor will I ever live with you in the same house again."

And then Donald. Well he was a cheating, lying bastard but in other way the boy adores me to the point, where he hurts himself just to prove how much he actually loves me. We have been separated for almost six months and just the other day I got the most desperate email from him....

And lets be honest, I have treated some boys really bad. Don Juan used to say that I am often more like a guy. Because for example I have this thing that when I sleep with someone I am not in love with (has not happened that many times - I am not a slut, although I sometimes wish I was....) I hate them the morning after. Or lets make it more specific - I wish they would magically disappear as soon as they have pulled out....sorry for being so graphic. The good thing about it is, that as a girl, it is cool to not ever call or not be reachable afterwards, where as a guy you would be considered an asshole. The same way that a guy who sleeps around is sooo cool and girl who does the same is quickly called a slut.

So maybe this rejection serves me well. After all one of my good friends in Europe, herself a beautiful, young actress - for the purposes of this blog we will give her the lovely new name - Marie, said to me once that unrequited love is the sweetest, truest love of all because we ask nothing of it.

4.33pm still no call.

I rather regret what I did than what I did not do

2009-01-07T23:52:00.001-08:00

I called. And he did not pick up. Maybe he is asleep already. Maybe he did not hear the phone. Maybe he was talking to someone else.

Or maybe he just does not want to talk to me.

I left a message saying that I just got home and wanted to see how he is doing and that he should give me a call back if he has some space. See, trying to sound all cool blah blah fucking blah.

It sucks that I could not reach him. And I almost, almost regret calling him BUT now there is really nothing left for me to do. I have shown him in plenty of different ways that I care about him and that I am there for him during this hard period in his life.

The ball is in his court and in a weird way that is a slight relief because at least I will never wonder if maybe I should have done this or that. Because I do believe in life it is the things we did not do that we end up regretting more, than the things we did.

Sometimes it sucks being a woman

2009-01-07T12:55:00.001-08:00

Two yoga lessons. Seven hours of sleep. One bowl of cereal. And two showers later I am still lovesick.

12.56 - no phone call.

12.57 - still no phone call.

12.58 - nope...

Okay it is not quite that bad but almost.

I have not seen Cameron in three months because I was in Europe and now a week ago his mother died and that is very difficult for him. He is down with his family, about two hours from Los Angeles. I went down last weekend but instead of really being there for him, all we did was have sex. Yes, I am a very, very bad person. And the difficult thing about Cam is that he is super Christian. Which is why he feels guilty after having sex. And I know that. Still I could not hold back. Gosh, I might even go to hell for that one....

So when I left he was in this weird, guilty stage and he did not watch my car drive away...I could see that in my rearview mirror....then since then only a text thanking me that I came down. And me replying "anytime."....

Now I keep making these weird deals with myself about how and when I will call him. And this is such a difficult situation because normally I would not really call a guy but in this case, with his great loss etc. the rules are somehow a bit confusing....

13.05 no phone call or text message

I will probably call him tonight and the plan is to sound all casual but caring about him (which I actually REALLY do) but without any romantic blah blah. One of my best friends and flirt guru - lets call him by the best suitable fake name - Don Juan said I should not call him at all and maybe just send a text in a few days....less is more he says. But in this case, really? I mean with any other friend in that type of situation, I would call. So why not with the guy I like?! Man sometimes it sucks being a woman....

Being-so-lovesick-that-I-have-to-start-a-blog

2009-01-06T21:49:00.000-08:00

I do not know what is up with me. Seriously I thought after having been in this really, long, mostly bad relationship with - well lets give him a lovely fake, slightly embarrassing, online name, like....- Donald. Yes, that works. After all of that I thought no boy would start occupying all my thoughts to the point of me not enjoying anything other than lying in my bed and formulating emails to him, which I of course will never ever EVER send. Heeeellooooo, how pathetic!!! Yes! I am pathetic. And sadly by now even my best friends can hear me talking about - lets give him a poetic, beautiful, fake online name like....- Cameron. Yes, that is a sexy name...

So who is Cameron?! Well, he is, no kidding, one of the most beautiful men in Los Angeles. Yes, now it's out, this blog is written from the city of angeles....but anyway back to Cameron (which is by the way a sentence I keep saying to all my friends and they already start gaging...). He is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. And as you shall find as you continue to read this self-pitying-reflecting-wise-smart-ass-and-of-course-absolutely-hilarious-blog, looks are very important to me. I know it makes me a horrible, superficial person but at least it makes me an honest one, or!? But really, I am not that bad - I am a vegetarian, do yoga everyday and try to keep my carbon hydrate food print tiny (that of course excludes the times driving to yoga class and back...). But anyway back to Cameron. So he is really beautiful, not by my standards but by pretty much everybody's and oh yes! I am ridiculous enough to show his photo to almost everyone who will listen to me go on and on about him for longer than five seconds (and I want to use this moment, to say sorry to my Brasilian waxing lady from last week - I had to show you the photo to explain why I would go through such traumatizing pain as to get all the hair removed from down there...and sorry for screaming and crying like a baby...).

So we have established that he is absolutely beautiful (in case you forget - I keep repeating that point over and over again...). And where did we meet? Acting class. Yes, what a Los Angeles cliché...and that is again a new piece of information about me - I am an actress. He is an actor. Actually a really good one at that. So we met and at first, funny enough I barely noticed him. I mean I noticed this extremely good looking guy with the big smile but for some reason I did not properly register him. That might be partly because I am so used to being attracted to the blond-pretty-boy-type and he is the type dark-and-handsome. A guy with a natural tan, perfect teeth, a sharp cut face, beautiful brown eyes with super long lashes and a body that uhhh...makes a girl dream....

I did not register him but he says that he thought right away that I am "so beautiful". (at least in that regard we feel the same about each other...), so he started talking to me and it was a bit like "I am hot, you're hot - we should get together". And we did. More about that after I got some sleep, an other yoga class and few more agonizing hours of waiting-for-the-phone-to-ring behind me...