Why is is so hard to find a happy medium?
99% of the time when I want a man to call me – he rarely does… and I end up coveting my phone like the Hope Diamond while driving myself insane wondering why, not to mention as of lately making mental lists of subjects I can actually can discuss easily in Italian so I don’t sound have to sound like a boring half-wit on the phone (just in case). This is especially necessary when I know I am going to have to speak Italian, as not every man in the zone speaks English (I could never get that lucky). Let it be known, despite it is a wonderful, poetic language – I dislike like speaking it. Damn those m/f nouns that need to be accompanied by m/f adjectives and phrases that don’t translate to English and therefore make no sense at all! Italians are notorious for making everything more complicated than it needs to be.
In my own language I can hold my own and keep up with the best of them, but in Italian I surely sound like a 7 year-old with ADD.
I wish we could have floating subtitles in every language, and something resembling the scene in Annie Hall. In fact this could be useful for everyone, although I am sure the number of assaults and divorce proceedings would rise dramatically per capita, then again perhaps people would cut the bullshit, really communicate and and simply hook-up more often.
Then again, who knows? Inadvertantly sounding like a dip-shit may work in my favour, as recently I read an article on a study by The University of Austin Texas that basically concluded: Men like ’em stupid. There you have it – My ‘milquetoast-dipshit theory.’
So who’s on the current roster?
Mr. Edge-Wise. Why that nick? Cause I can’t get a damn word in edge-wise, however in other respects he is almost too accommodating…
“Ring me when you are free and I’ll ring you back so you don’t have to pay for the call.”
I am not complaining… (maybe I am a little) but when guys start pummeling me with compliments, I start to wonder…
“You have a beautiful voice.”
“Call me when you are free my wonderful creature.”
“You really live alone? Call me if you need anything, anything at all ok? And ring me tomorrow and I can ring you back.”
Is he nice, or just weird? Is this a death by smothering waiting to happen?
Sunday I was a little disappointed I didn’t hear from ‘The Legoinaire,’ – he had said he would call me. I wasn’t overly obsessing over it (this time), but wondered why. As I was waking up this morning I thought of a little something I could text him as an icebreaker and as reminder of my existence….
“Good day officer… I hope you are not wearing Canadian bearskin in this tremendous heat…”
He wears a full bearskin (head in tact) on his head that just happens to come from my homeland, that is part of his Roman soldier’s gear. I had seen him wearing it in a photo and to be honest it freaked me out, not to mention I felt really sorry for the bear.
He called me back after work and had me laughing so hard my face hurt. His voice sounds very much like Cristian (my former holy grail of manhood). That could be one miniscule reason why his banter is so addictive, but regardless he is funny and funny is good, as these days I need to laugh more… a lot more.