Shanghai surprise

I haven't written in a very, very long time. This is mainly because I've been having regular existential crises and have come to my senses about how very sad this blog is. I really shouldn't devote so much time and energy writing/thinking about my distinctly average love life but hey, I am what I am, and, unfortunately, I am ever so slightly obsessed with the opposite sex.

So where to begin? It was my 21st birthday a few weeks ago. I won't go into the details, but when everyone decided to head home at about 1am, Mr T and I were still full of energy and keen to hit a club. We danced. We drank. We shared a taxi home. We kissed.

We went back to his apartment together.

The rest is fairly obvious. It was fun, but nothing spectacular. And that's it really. It was a one off thing and I'm actually 100% cool with that. Things have been completely normal between us since, just good friends.

Last week I met up with a friend for a catch-up lunch in Beijing. I'd had a particularly tough week and when he mentioned he was going to Shanghai that evening and had found cheap flights, I decided there was nothing I needed more than a few days in fabulous Shanghai with my fabulous GBF. So, after one of the aforementioned existential crises, in which i questioned why I found it so hard to be spontaneous and at the same time why I felt the need to run away from Beijing so carelessly, I found myself at the airport, handing over the cash for my flight which was leaving in 3 hours. 

Shanghai was great. We laughed so much (which I hadn't done in a while) and bitched about anyone and everyone. I actually became slightly evil on that trip - I think we might bring out the worst in eachother, but definitely in a good way, if that makes sense. Sometimes being a bitch is the funnest/funniest thing in the world.

Anyway, on the wednesday night we ended up at a club called M2. 100RMB for 10 drinks - who can say no? While breaking some shapes on the dance floor I spotted a hottie across the room. After perving on him for several minutes, I realised I really had to speak to him. It was out of my control, he was just too hot. So we chatted or a while but he was standing with some old man and I wanted to play it cool so kinda just turned around and went bag to boogying with my friend. Later on in the night, my friend wanted to go home, but I decided to stay in the club (some of the people from the hostel we were staying in were still in the club, plus I wasn't finished being in the same vicinity as said hottie). 

Almost as soon as he left, the hottie came up to me. Turns out he is a a model, from Switzerland. In fact, he has just been in Milan for 6 months doing some shoots for Versace and Cavalli. And he is straight. Oh and how did he become a model? Well he came 3rd in the Mr Switzerland competition, of course. The old man was in fact his father - he'd only just arrived in Shanghai so his dad was there on holiday for his first week or two. So then I met his dad. Weird.

Once his father had left, we hit the dance floor. Unfortunately, he's into the whole 'bump and grind, dirty dancing' thing. I really hate doing that. I mean, I can move my hips pretty darn well (I'm South African, these hips are made to move), but sexy dancing in a club never works as well as you think it will. You are never in sync, there's always that moment when you realise you are completely out of time to the music, and your face inadvertedly either becomes distorted through concentration, or just slightly retarded in an effort to pout and look sexy. So I'm strictly against it. However, once again, it was out of my control. I kept pulling away to wave my arms around like a lunatic, or to rap along to my homie Lil Wayne, yelling profanities like 'yeah make it rain on that ho' or 'bitch please'. But hey, I would much rather embarrass myself by having fun and pretending to be Dr Dre's prodigy than to look like a tool trying to be all sexy grinding on the dance floor. N'est-ce pas?

After dancing/kissing/chatting on the dance floor for a few hours, I decided it was probably time for me to go home. More than anything, I could tell that I quite liked this guy and the longer I spent kissing him, feeling his SIX PACK (!) and listening to his sexy swiss accent, the more it would hurt when I didn't hear from him ever again. But when I announced my departure, he said he was going too, and he took my number. So we left together, and when we got outside the club he suggested we sit and chat for a while. And thats exactly what we did. Away from the loud music and smoke and crowds, we sat and chatted for almost 2 hours. He was incredibly sweet, which was a surprise. He put his coat over my shoulders before I could even feel the cold, he held my hand with both his hands, he told me I was adorable when I tried to speak foreign languages (I was testing out my french and german on him). I haven't felt that kind of intimacy in such a long time. I know it was just a one night thing and I hardly know him, but no guy has been that sweet and caring to me in a very long time. I had forgotten what it was like to feel like someone thought the world of you and couldn't stop looking at/holding you. And at no point in the night did he try and feel me up, or try and take me home, or anything. He was just nice. It is crazy that although I've had several flings and semi-boyfriends and whatever, I found more intimacy and excitement and comfort all at the same time with him than I have with anyone since my last proper boyfriend (which ended a year and a half ago!).

But, it is what it is. He is in Shanghai for six months, I am in Beijing, and I'm under no pretense that it'll turn into something. It was a perfect little romance, and I really, really needed it. After everything with Mr T and my general love-less situation in Beijing, it couldn't have come at a better time. The fact that a model whose ex-girlfriend just came 3rd in Germany's Next Top Model, whose job it is to look beautiful and look at beautiful people, chose me just made me feel so so good. Not only did he choose me while drunk in a club, but he texted me to check I got home safe, and has texted me again since. Walking through the club holding his hand while all the girls stared at him/winked at him/jiggled their cleavage in his direction while he just squeezed my hand and grinned at me was just the biggest confidence boost. 

He texted saying he'll call me when he comes to Beijing, so fingers crossed for that. I do kind of think that maybe it is best left as a memory though. I'm so scared that if we see eachother again, sober and in broad daylight, he'll realise i'm not that great, and he'll reject me in some way or another, and my perfect little confidence-boosting memory will be smashed to pieces. But then again, this king sized bed of mine in Beijing, with fairy lights and a rose patterned duvet, has yet to see any action, and who best to take that cherry than a swiss Versace model...

(that's him by the way. Just look at him!!)

New crush?

I think I've started liking someone new... But there's a slight problem: He is a friend of T's. A good friend. And he's also a friend of mine, and friends with my friends, and a member of the team @ Quiz. So generally not ideal.

Plus, I reckon he's a bit of an idiot when it comes to girls so if I was to decide I definitely wanted something to happen, I would have to go for it 100%, as I don't think he would guess in a million years that I like him. 

On Friday night I was at dinner at my Chinese friend's house with my flatmate K, and Mr T. My Chinese friend randomly asked if my 'boyfriend' would be in the club we were going to afterwards - my 'boyfriend' being T's friend, who I shall call Squirrel. (I have no idea why I am so protective on this blog about people's names, no one reads this anyway so it is extremely unlikely the boys in question will stumble across this page, but it's quite fun). I laughed it off, but T piped up 'He's will into you, you know'. I fell silent as wasn't sure what to say... And after several painful seconds T starts laughing saying 'Only joking'. Luckily I hadn't said/done anything to imply I quite like Squirrel, so my secret is still safe I think. I realise it must be a bit weird for T that they thought he was my boyfriend, seeing as if anyone acts/looks like my boyfriend when we're out, it'd be T. Nothing has happened with Mr T by the way, we're solid friends. He's also a man slut which ain't sexy.

Some of my friends reckon I don't actually like Squirrel, I'm just lonely/frustrated, want to get back at T, and he's one of the few guys I know here. I agree with the first and last part of that, yes the hotties in this city are few and far between, and yes i'm quite bored of being single, but I definitely don't think its got anything to do with me and T. I agree that ideally the next guy I shack up with would be completely separate from T and my group of friends. But you can't help who you like.

Not sure i'm going to do anything about this though - probably best left as friends. The thing is, i'm not desperate at all - I've had one or two chances to hook up with randoms in clubs over the past week, and turned them down. I think I just miss intimacy - and you can read that however you like. A boyfriend at some point would be nice, though I still have massive issues with monogamy (I have never been faithful), and I am only 20 (21 next month). So definitely not desperate for some kind of full on relationship, but maybe just a bit of excitement/romance for my last 4 months in Beijing...

American Pie? Not my guy...

My silence on this blog reflects the silence of my love life. I was going to say the silence of my heart and then realised it really is more the silence coming from my room and lonely empty king-sized bed every night that bothers me, if you catch my drift. 

The only story I can muster up takes place somewhere between American Pie and Lost in Translation. On wednesday night my wonderful team won at Quiz (yes a capital letter is definitely needed here) and so, obviously, I got drunk. I spotted a hottie across the room (wearing a t-shirt saying Ipood - not so hot) and wandered over. To my surprise/glee, he took the bait and we ended up chatting all night. I probably could have kissed him - he had his arm around the back of my chair, his face was pretty close to mine (not in a space invader way) and he had already told this other guy that he thought I was 'cute'. But I chickened out, got his number, and went home. God knows why I chickened out - I guess I didn't want to be seen macking out with this guy in the bar I go to at least once a week, especially as he knows loads of people there too. I'm not hugely into public displays of affection.

So the next day we text and I end up going over to his apartment. He takes out his bong (I wish that was a sexual innuendo but it isn't) and I suddenly realise I am hanging out with what might as well be Jim from American Pie - there is a lava lamp on the table, a bong in his hand, and he's wearing skater shoes and unflattering baggy jeans. I honestly felt as if I was in a typical American teenager drama. We had agreed to go to beer pong at the same bar as the night before, and he had already signed me up as his team mate so couldn't bail. Beer pong was quite fun actually - we won, so kudos to me. But his chat/general existence was fairly awful. Yet another guy who feels the need to say 'Boom' at the beginning/end of most sentences. And he's sexist. And boring. And really not as hot as the night before.

So I got out of there sharpish. And there ends the story of the beer pong, the bong, and all that is wrong... Until I drunkenly phoned him on friday at 3am, once my beer glasses were tightly fastened and my 'standards' completely loosened.

Thank God he didn't pick up.

Let's just scare away all my men

So now this is hilarious. Before coming to Beijing, I was seeing a boy at university. I shall call him Duracell Bunny. We were seeing eachother on and off for the whole of last term, so only 8 weeks, but in university terms thats pretty good going. He came to stay at my house and met my parents the night before I left for Beijing. So, naturally, I still think about him now and then, and we chat sometimes on Facebook. 

On Saturday night I returned home in the early hours of the morning, blind drunk, and furious with T as he hadn't looked after me in my drunken state in a club (luckily my Chinese friend had saved me from myself). I think to myself 'Hey, Duracell Bunny was always so lovely when I got wasted. That time I was swaggering around with a bottle of Champagne and then randomly hit the deck, he picked me up and took me home. And stayed the night. And took me for breakfast the next day. Yeah, he is amazing'. So I open my laptop, log in to Facebook, and send this:

some reasons why i think the world of you:

1) you have a fit bod

2) you would take care of me if i was wasted (which i am now)

3) i reckon you like me no matter what

4) you are good at cuddles

5) you like cuddling me

6) you miss me (i know that)

7) you like all the best things about me and find amusing, not annoying, all my good qualities [I'm fairly sure I meant to write 'all my bad qualities']

8) you are a-mazing in bed and i miss that beyond belief

HAHAHA. How funny is that. The best part is, I don't even regret it. I meant all those things. And I know him, and he won't have found that psycho-ish. To be honest, he's two years younger than me, I'm the closest he's ever had to a girlfriend, and he's practically got no mates now that I'm in China. So he should be bloody ecstatic with that message...

...even if he hasn't replied.

Something with claws

This is just a quick anecdote, as I really have nothing to report. I thought getting over T Man was easy but then I had to see him on Wednesday and that was rubbish. We're all friends now, my friends and his, me and him, him and my friends, visa versa, so I am going to have to get used to us hanging out and me secretly pining after him while he pines after this other girl (and flirts with most other girls that come and talk to him).

Anyway, wednesday night, we're all quite drunk and were discussing what animals we would be if we weren't human. I ask what I would be, and he replies 'Something with claws'. CLAWS?! I mean, really. That says quite a lot. I think the word 'intense' was also thrown in there somewhere. Fantastic.

A note to my readers (reader?): I'm not actually as neurotic in real life as I am in this blog. Really. So, you see, I am shocked that while I thought I was being the pinnacle of Coolness and the definition of Chilled, he had me sussed as the predator I was born to be.

Cg

Sorted

Ok, so T texted and asked if I wanted to chill watching movies at mine this afternoon. Had a really nice time, drinking vino/beer, watching movies and then silly youtube stuff. Eventually I summoned up the courage to ask whats going on and...

Turns out he was seeing some girl who left and went back to America right before I arrived in Beijing. In no way is he over her, in fact he says he was almost in love with her. So he is 'confused' and wants to see 'what happens' between me and him. So I guess that's that - we're friends for the moment. Have seen photos of this girl and she is amazing - absolutely beautiful, skinny, fun, etc etc. So will just have to move all these emotions aside and be friends with him. Let's see how that goes...

Cg

Oh for the love of God

OK i am officially bored of T now. The silent treatment lasted from saturday until Tuesday, when he texts me saying its Pancake Day (do we only have that in England?) and would I like to come round to make some pancakes with him. I've been known to demolish a few pancakes in my time so was totally keen for some carbohydrate action. So that night I meet up with him, we go to the supermarket to buy the ingredients and some vino, go back to his. I meet his stoner flatmate (I quote: "So, like, I've been watching a lot of planet documentaries lately. I think I spent like two whole days watching shit about the moon. That shit is wack'). Before you know it, all T's friends are over, and me and him are slaving away in the kitchen flipping pancakes and drinking wine. It suddenly dawns on me that my role in the evening is to provide the men with pancakes. This is definitely not how I roll. But anyway we're having fun in the kitchen, gradually getting pretty drunk, its all good. Two and a half hours later, we decide to join in the party. Sitting on the sofa, he puts his legs on my lap (by the way, where the hell do you put your hands when someone does that? Resting them on his legs feels waaayy too coupley, but then for there to be no contact you have to sit there with your arms crossed looking all uptight. I just don't know). Anyway, his friends obviously think there's something going on and decide they should go play football out on the street, thus leaving us alone. T kinda freaks out and immediately sits upright and is like 'no we'll come with you, i'm walking her to the taxi anyway' - I had said a few minutes before I would probably leave soon. Its like the whole world can see something is going on between us, or should be going on, except him of course. So we leave, he walks me to the corner, hails a cab, kisses me on the cheek, and I go. So no kiss, nothing. I mean really, what?! He invites me round, we spend 2 hours cooking pancakes for his friends while they get high, he's all coupley with me on the sofa, and then nothing?! Surely we aren't just friends. I definitely don't do things like that with my guy friends in the UK. 

Oh, and he mentioned my little strop on Friday night... 'What was up with you? You just seemed really angry'. I feigned ignorance and played it cool, until I tripped over on the pavement...twice)

OK so the next day its Wednesday, aka quiz night. I get there to find my usual team has enough members and I am thus SHUNNED aside. Luckily T's lovely friend is there already and says I should join them. So yeah, spent wednesday night doing the quiz with T and all his friends, and 2 of my friends joined us too. This random stoner dude started chatting me up (Chat up line: So, where can I get some decent pot around here?). Weird, considering I was wearing a cardigan with bows on it, and a knee length skirt, and pretty much looked like my mother. Not the usual stoner type. Though back in the day my mother was known to wack on a pair of leather pants and smoke a doobie or two. I think T got a bit jealous and was like 'oh you must have missed that part of the convo, as you were talking to THAT guy. What did he say to you anyway?'. Anyway, I had to leave earlier than usual as I had an exam on Thursday morning (yes I am a closet geek). We say bye, I leave, obviously no kissing or anything.

Then today, Thursday, he texts asking what my plans for the day are as he's pulled a sicky from work. By this point I've officially given up trying to be aloof or cool (probably the two words that describe me the least). My flatmate has just gone away for 4 days so I tell him I am embarking on my 4 days of solitude, and  and I vote he keeps me company and when will he grace me with his presence. He says that gets his vote, and friday night saturday and sunday 'all look good for gracing you'. So i suggest he comes over friday night to make sure my apartment is up to scratch before I potentially host a little shindig on saturday night. He replies, sounds good, but there's talk of a drum and bass night on friday night and i'll feel right at home there (its at my favourite music venue in Beijing). 

So, to summarise: it is impossible to get him alone. I think he's actually scared of me. Or maybe he now sees me as one of the guys. Neither of those options are good.

So there we are. My norwegian buddy Jonas reckons I just ask him straight out whats going on. My sister and flatmate agree. I agree. Slight problem: I am never alone with him. And I don't want to do it when we're out and drunk, because then I may slip into drunken stroppy little madam territory and that doesn't end well, as I now know from previous experience.

I am just BORED of this now. I don't even think I fancy him anymore. I mean, he carries a leather handbag. Oops, I mean manbag. He ain't no rugby player, if you know what i'm saying.

But I am stubborn, and I am now on a mission I cannot quit. I hate quitters.

Older sisters are the best

A conversation I had with my sister today...

Me: I can't believe asking a guy to home with me is enough to make him get freaked out. I mean surely it just shows initiative and libido.

Sister: Well maybe he just felt awkward as K was around and he's shy

Me: Yeah but then he must think i'm socially retarded to think the 3 of us in a cab wouldn't be awkward. Which obviously in the light of day I realise. 

Sister: I think you should just relax. Maybe its not that big a thing.

Ahh, sisterly wisdom....

Cg

One more thing...

Why on earth am I so bad with men? I mean i've slept with so many people that if we were going by the 'one a year' counting scheme then I would've been sexually active while still in the womb. I had a two week fling with an American swimsuit model in Paris this summer. I went out with a pre-law rugby player from a wealthy family for three and a half years. And I broke up with him because I didn't want commitment. And yet I am obsessing over a guy i've known for a month and kissed once....

'Maybe you should be a little less obsessive'

I have got to get over T. Seriously. Enough is enough.

Last weekend we all went out, and by about 7am it was just me and T dancing the night away in a grimey little club in Beijing. Think drugs, techno and sex (Never trust a place where they have Unisex toilets. I'm fairly sure I got pregnant just going to the loo in there).

So we're dancing, he's fairly wasted (shouldn't it be the other way around?) and all of a sudden, we're kissing. And its amazing. The music is loud, its all passionate and exciting, and also sooo natural. It wasn't like two friends getting wasted and making out because they are horny and drunk. It felt like a natural progression in whatever this relationship of ours is...

So, a bit later, we decide to go get some Korean hot pot for breakfast. We jump in a cab, he puts his arm around me, we're kissing, holding hands - all very coupley. So much so that the taxi driver asks if he is my husband. I took huge offense to this - do I look old enough to be married??! To which Mr T says 'Well just say yes, I mean we might as well be, we were deciding on baby names earlier...' (previously in the night our conversation had turned to baby names, and it turns out we like the same names. Only problem is, I actually hate children - unless you can adopt them once they are 25, toilet trained, have a good job, and bring nice wine over at christmas time. I would have children if they were like that from the beginning). ANYWAY what annoys me is that if a girl said that after you'd only been kissing for like an hour the boy would just think PSYCHO and run for the hills. But oooh nooo, its all good when a guy says it. Grr.

We have a nice breakfast, hold hands of the table, then I say i feel like watching some Family Guy and chilling out. He says he has a box set, and why don't we just go over to his (I honestly think that's all that would've happened, we were both exhausted and none of it was like 'hey, we could 'watch tv' and 'cuddle' on the sofa, nudge nudge wink wink hubba hubba'). So we're waiting for a cab, he's cuddling me, we jump in the cab, still kissing, holding hands, etc... but then i decide i'm exhausted and actually just want to go home. And he's cool with it, but says 'i think we should definitely snuggle soon. It would be nice' (how cute). So we kiss goodbye, and none of it feels like a one off. Its 8:30am when I get home, i text to say i got home ok (he got grumpy before because he always asks me to text if i get home ok and i never do). He texted me the next day, monday, tuesday... And then wednesday he texts me 20 mins before the pub quiz that we both go to every week, asking if i'm going to the quiz, which he also does every week. We're in separate teams so do our own thing, and then afterwards all chill out together - his friends and mine. At one point we are discussing a ginger girl in my class who he reckons would be a great mother, so i suggest 'maybe you should marry her', to which he replies 'well then we would have ginger babies. Not cool'. He then casually looks at me and says 'what about if two blondes have children?' (I should point out now that both of us are blonde). Again, boys get away with whatever they want as they are inherently 'cool' and 'chilled', while girls, us girls, are just clingy and whiney. We hit KTV (standard in China). But, you see, always surrounded by friends so nothing happens. We say goodnight, he sends me a message saying thanks for an awesome night, and puts a 'x' at the end which he has never done before. I know you're not meant to read into how many x's someone puts in an sms but if they've never done it before then i like to think it means something...

Thursday: I text asking if he wants to do something that night. He replies he has to work late, but 'my sofa, family guy and you would be a gazillion times better'. So i'm a happy bunny.

Friday: My friend is going home to Norway for a while so invites us all out for dinner and a club where a friend of hers is DJing. She invites T too (how convenient for me...) and he comes. Again, I play it cool - we're all chatting together, i'm not being too flirty, etc. As we get a bit drunker we're a bit more touchy feely (this could be in my head. I know I was being touchy feely, at least, but I cannot confirm what he was doing).But again the night goes by and nothing happens!! There was one moment when we were sitting on a sofa in a club and something probably would've happened, but my friend was sitting on the other side of me, so that would've been awkward.

This all would've been cool had I not fucked it up at the end of the night by being a bit lary. I invite him round to my place 'because I have wine and we can drink more there, its too expensive here'. So, when my flatmate wants to go home, I tell him I have to go, but he doesn't come with me. So i say, perhaps a little aggressively, 'well you could've come home with me, but nooooo'. To which he replies 'well, you're going home with K! [my flatmate]'. And I leave. Maybe I stormed off, I'm not entirely sure. Probably the latter if we're honest.

And that's it really. Ive fucked it up by being way too keen. I ask him out one day, then ask him home with me the next and get grumpy when he says no. In the light of day I see how it would be totally weird if he had come home with me and my flatmate - 3 of us in a cab?! Can you say awkward?

Now it is Sunday. And my dream of spending the night chilling with him over the weekend is ruined. I caved and texted him yesterday (just general friendly banter, nothing flirty) and he replied with some equally meaningless chat. So its not great really. Ultimately, he's just not that into me - if he were, and if he wanted to spend time alone with me, he would. He is just as capable of sending me a text inviting me to do something as I am sending him one. So thats it then isn't it. But I am so bloody obsessive! I just cannot be cool with these situations. I spend so many hours a day worrying about it, talking about it, and, if i'm honest, crying about it. The advice from my friends? 'Maybe you should be a little less obsessive'. Well, DUH. What a new idea. I mean, really, I love obsessing. I love crying. I love making myself feel crap about myself. I love over analyzing. I love staring at my phone hoping he will text me. Sorry, I didn't realise I was obsessing out of CHOICE! How silly of me. It's that easy. I'll just 'stop obsessing'. 

New plan: Ignore him. I shall play the 'hot and cold' game. Only problem with that: he doesn't realise he's being ignored. He kind of has to text me in order for me to ignore him. So at the moment, I'm essentially ignoring my urge to text him. So, in conclusion, I am ignoring myself, and he is as happy as larry. Wonderful.

Oh and I have started smoking during the day, when I am sober. Its all part of the 'broken soul' look i'm going for. I also wear stripes and red lipstick. Very femme fatale.

Cg

Lloyd the Snake Man

I thought I would take this opportunity to tell you (no one is reading this so I'm essentially telling myself) a little story about a little man with a big... snake. Seriously though, he owns a snake sanctuary. Compensating for something much?

So, the story begins in South Africa, in December 2007. I'm chilling with my sister and her (now ex, and asshole) boyfriend, when an old friend of his rocks up. His name is Lloyd. And he is The Snake Man. Locals of the town know little about Lloyd, in fact few know his real name is Lloyd. When they see him stroll through town with his long blonde locks blowing in the wind, wearing nothing but a dead snake around is neck (slight exaggeration), they point in amazement and cry: 'Hey, its the Snake Guy!'. He prides himself on this. Who needs a name, when you're The Snake Guy? So, I'm introduced to him, and he seems nice. Smiley, and, what with him having an oversized head and all, its a big smile. And charming. So we chat a lot, and as the night progresses, I find his hand on my leg. Not averse to a bit of flirtation, I laugh, smile, flutter my eye lashes, etc etc. To cut a long story short, a few hours later I have decided to sneak The Snake Man into my Grandma's apartment while she is sleeping. I kid you not.

And then what happens? Well, let's just say Lloyd's snake, perhaps the most important of all his snakes, gets a little frightened and recoils. At which point I realise that is probably a good thing, and am happy for him to leave when - how considerate - Lloyd feels the need to explain why this has happened. You see not only is he the Snake Guy, but he's also the i-need-speed-before-i-can-perform-guy. And, seeing as he hadn't banked on meeting any ladies on a quiet Thursday night in the little coastal town, he hadn't taken any. You see, Lloyd the Snake Man is looking for a soul mate. He only leaves the house in the hope of finding a lady who will care for his snake for an eternity. And, funnily enough, Lloyd has decided this should be me.

So an hour later we are sitting outside the apartment, as he tries to convince me he's not an absolute drug addict psycho (I brought this on myself - he had almost left earlier but, as he was leaving, had cried 'Fine, I just didn't see you as the judgemental type. I thought you were different'. This triggered my 'Hey man, I'm cool, I don't judge' reflex and thus, an hour later, there sat old Snakey pouring his heart out to me). 

So finally he left. And he sent many a text message over the following weeks, all unanswered. Ironic that the girl who has had a snake phobia here whole life magically became quite the snake tamer after all.

What's in a star sign?

Turned up for drinks with T half an hour late - and I wasn't even trying to play it cool on purpose. I really, really hate being late so it was fairly traumatic for me, but I got over it. We ate, had a few drinks, chatted... All very nice. But I still don't have a bloody clue if he likes me likes me, you know, like how i like him. Wow that is a lot of likes. He paid for everything, and the conversation was flowing - there were literally no awkward silences, I never had to rack my brain for something to talk about. So that must be a good thing right? And also he said a few things which i can now overanalyze (I wish I didn't do that) and take some comfort from. I was telling him about this semi-stalker I have at university in the UK, who I am now chatting to on MSN in the hope that he is only obsessed because he doesn't know me, and so hopefully once he has got to know me he won't be as interested. T's response to this : Come on, really? As in, 'would someone really like you less once they got to know you'? But, BUT, a friend would also say something like that. So still possibly a friendly drink. If it was a date, however, it was the best date i've ever been on - he even paid for everything!

Then there was the topic of star signs and compatibility. Having determined our respective star signs, he asked 'So, are they compatible?' to which I (of course) reply: 'Yeah I think so'. He says 'Oh well watch out, we've got chemistry already' (Date?). So of course, I go home, and read up on what it means to be Taurus (me). Not good. And  technically we're not compatible. But who cares about star signs anyway?

Is a drink always a date?

The evening with the Harvard Club brought little interest other than a million business cards that are now sitting in my rubbish bin. I would say there were no 'eligible bachelors' there, as noone took my interest, but in fact I imagine most people would say the room was full of them. I mean hundreds of Harvard graduates packed into the Banquet room of the Shang-ri La hotel screams eligible bachelor doesn't it? Not if they are ugly. No. You see, my ex (we will call him Boogie) was the nicest person alive, but not really a looker. And after that ended (about a hear and a half ago, we were together for 3 and a half years), I've become extremely shallow.

An example: My friends are constantly teasing me for my fascination with rugby players. Seriously though, I rarely get with people who aren't rugby players. I like muscle-y thighs.

So now I am in Beijing for 6 months, single, and having fun. There was one experience with a Canadian jock who said 'BOOM' at the end of every sentence (e.g. while showing me around his apartment, he said 'Its so awesome, its like, you want to watch TV and BOOM there's a sofa). He was not a very nice person, and made me go and catch a cab at 5am in the -10 freezing cold Beijing winter. Hmm. Fun night before-hand though.

OK so tonight - a drink with a very handsome man who I shall call Mr T. Mr T and I have known eachother for about 3 weeks, and I still have absolutely no idea if anything is ever going to happen between us. I am crazy about him - he is (obviously) very very good looking, comes from Manchester (where my dad is from, and yes, girls always want to date their fathers) and lives in Beijing. The only problem is.. Nothing has happened yet. We SMS all the time, I see him every week at this weekly pub quiz thing (so lame i know, but also a god send if you're new to a city and want to find the expat community). Last friday we were out (Mr T and I, and all my friends) and we spent the whole night talking to eachother. Then, in the cab ride home (sharing taxis = cheap), he held my hand, which was very sweet. But then he sends me message the next day saying he vomited as soon as he got out of the taxi. So he was wasted. So holding my hand probably means nothing.

So thats it really. We went to a gig together on Friday night, just the two of us, and had an amazing time. Danced the night away, and also spent ages chatting on the sofas. Lovely. But nothing happened. We're friends, aren't we? Hmm. Tricky. Especially as I don't really have guy friends. Not out of choice, I just find that boys and girls are never 'just' friends - there are always feelings somewhere, whether one-sided or not. So, other than my fabulous gay friends, I'm very new to this 'hanging out one-on-one with a gorgeous guy you get on well with who once held your hand and talks to you all the time' concept. My solution? Deal with it. Accept the fact that we're friends. And tonight's drink is as friends. And, chances are, absolutely nothing will happen. The good thing is, I've been nothing but myself around him, which is so liberating. If nothing ever happens, then its just not meant to be - you can't get upset everytime someone you like doesn't like you.

A drink with Mr T. My first 'drink' that is not a date. At least I don't think it is...

Introducing: The Girl Who Is Useless with Men

I have never written a blog before. And I am not a fantastic writer. And, in fact, the whole point of this blog is to vent my feelings and experiences so that my friends don't get sick of me and kill me in my sleep. Like a diary. A very, very public diary.

So, as you may have guessed, I'll be writing almost purely about my attempts/conquests with the men in my life. Basically like a Sex and the City episode, without the glamour, diversity and probably without any intrigue whatsoever. But then this is all for me isn't it, so it doesn't really matter if no one finds it interesting...

I will begin my stories very very soon, but now I have to go to the Harvard Club of Beijing Gala evening. Surprising seeing as I am neither a Beijing native nor a Harvard alumni. But hey, maybe I'll finally make my grandmother happy and meet a rich, well educated, rich, handsome, rich Harvard graduate. Yes. Then all my dreams will come true.

Cg