The Need for Approval....

Having both my buddies here is so exciting.  Not only did I have a list of places and things to do while they are here, one important thing needed to happen....they needed to meet the boy.  I have no problem making certain decisions on my own, but I have a huge problem with dating someone my friends don't know or worse, don't like.  I still need their approval, a continent away.  Although he's a great guy, I was worried that they wouldn't understand why I was into him.  Ash, Laura, and I headed to Leceister Square to meet him, Rebecca, and later Best Cousin (who the girls dubbed Rocky within minutes of meeting him).  Instead of me retyping their opinions, I am forcing them to guest blog:

Laura:  Well I thought that coming to London would grant me the opportunity to meet some Brits...Gwen apparantly had other things planned for Ash and me.  And so enters the Albanian.  Clearly, I didn't know what to expect besides the good things that Gwen has said about him, and I am happy to say that not only did she not lie, she was holding back. As soon as we met Beni, he went out of his way to ask how we were enjoying London so far, that same night and every one after he kept making sure we were close behind when we were crossing those crazy London streets, he always made sure we had a cold drink in hand, he took us to get great drunk food, and he never let us attempt to take a cab home alone- cause that would be dangerous and he cares about Gwennie and her friends.  While it was hard to understand him at times, he always had a smile on his face and was willing to teach us how to dance like the Albanians. (watch out for flying elbows!)  Although we only got to hang out with Beni and his people a few times, I feel like I got to know him well, and it makes me happy to see how happy he makes Gwen.  Let's just say that I like the Albanian so much that I invited him to the states and offered him a room in my house for when he visits!

Ash:

Well what else is there to say. Beni is a darling. But not to be confused with his best friend whom he also calls his darling. They are so freaking cute to watch together. If I didn't know better I would think that they were gay with each other. But that's just the way guys are here. Kissing on the cheek, talking about each other's butts; anything goes with them. That's one thing that is definitely hard to get used to. But I'll take the flagrant gayism anyday in exchange for their astonishing chivalry. I'm sorry but American guys need to take a lesson from the Albanians on how to treat women. And they travel in packs so I would encourage single ladies everywhere to come have their fill!

Gay Paree!

 I find it very hard to stop and make time to do this blog thing when my friends are in town. The last thing I want to do is sit in front of a computer but because there are 3 girls getting ready I have at least an hour before we are ready to even think about walking out the door....so backblogging it is!


Thursday March 25:

It was definately an odd feeling to stand at the International Arrivals gate at Heathrow waiting for Ash to come out from customs. The excitement surrounding her arrival to London kept me from sleeping the night before. Each time the doors opened, I scanned the crowds and luggage tags, only to be disappointed and left feeling like a friendless loser. I swear she must have been the last person from the flight to get through, an hour later my BFF and I were reunited...I know a little dramatic but considering we haven't gone more than 3 days without seeing each other since we were 18, I feel its warrented! We headed to my flat to drop off her luggage before going out. The second most exciting part of the day was Ash unpacking goodies from home including: Ranch dressing, Ranch dressing powder (add mayo and voila! Ranch!!!!) Peeps (Both yellow and pink), Tastykakes, and face wash! It was like Christmas morning! After I finished drooling over the thoughts of Ranch, we went shopping and out to lunch....both made me feel like I wasn't in London but back home in Philly. We didn't have to spend the time catching up because there was no time lost between us. After losing another 60 quid to Primark, we headed back to pack for Paris. Packing our best dresses, we were prepared to walk the street of one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. We spent the night at Lawrence's because although we are close, neither of us love the idea of sharing a twin bed! I couldn't help but be nervous of my BFF meeting my male BFF....worlds colliding is always enough to make me nervous. They seemed to get along well, but then again Ash can get along with anyone, and there isn't a soul who doesn't love her.

Friday March 26: Paris!!!!

Jetlag is a bitch, it is even more of a cunt when you get up at 4:30am to get on a train, but Ash was a trooper. Our hopes of parading our flowy dresses down the Champs Elysse were quickly dashed after we stepped into the dark rainy cold. I don't know what made me think it was any different than London, a 2 hour train ride does not add 40 degrees to the temperature....but we were in Paris. I have been to Paris once before, under much different circumstances. I was 20, it was my first trip outside of the US, well unless you count Canada but considering I didn't need a passport for that, I don't. I was also going over with my college roommate and her boyfriend....to visit my (ex)boyfriend, who was studying abroad. I had no choice but to be in love with the city....it was my first taste of Europe and I had a few of those movie moments that make people want to vomit (ie: Dancing on top of an empty boat cruise on the Seine while the Eiffel Tower sparkled). We were quickly reminded how difficult it is to travel in a city where English is not the language, ordering a coffee was even a pain in the ass. We checked into our hotel, showered, and headed to Sacre Coure and Montmatre. This was my favorite place the first time around, it's very artsy and offers amazing views of the city. We hiked up 300 stairs to the top of the cathedral, amazingly we didn't pass out and die, but we did get sweaty and sore pretty quick! The view was well worth the burn. After a million photos from the top, we marched on to see the Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysses, and the Arc de Triomphe. Unable to fight the exhaustion, we picked up a baguette, 2 bottles of wine, and cheese, and headed to our humble hotel for an early night.

Saturday March 27th: Versailles

Versailles is really an amazing sight; it's hard to imagine people actually living in a palace of that size and extravagence. No wonder people revolted, they practically powerwashed the place in gold. As our luck would have it, it was pouring and we were without an umbrella. The couple behind us were nice enough to let us huddle under theirs until we purchased our own from a vendor. The rain stopped us from really spending time in the gardens but it was fantastic nontheless. Since it was a high speed kind of weekend, we rushed back to the city to visit the Musee D'Orsey before it closed for the night. Beyond tired and cold, we found some comfort in heat lamps and multiple bottles of wine. After two, we thought buying another to drink by the Eiffel Tower was a great idea. Before we found a place to buy wine, we stopped in Harry's Famous New York Pub for a drink. Harry's was a hot spot for the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Humprey Bogart. It was nothing special: it was small, filled with french people, plastered with American college pennants, and very overpriced! We felt awkward immediately. Like all good drunk Americans, we felt the urge to stuff our face, the sign begging us to "try our famous American hot dogs" became irresistable. Unfortunately, they cost us 20 Euro and tasted like ass. Ash, a true hot dog connoisseur, was enraged by this and the mustard they spread on them. A lot can be said for Paris: it is beautiful, it is historic, it is romantic. It is also filled with a good number of people who are not known for being friendly, especially to Americans. Before I knew it, Ash threw her hot dog behind the booth, hoping it would eventually rot and smell. And then it was time to take one back for the good ol'US of A....stealing back our country's college pennants seemed like an appropriate punishment for their attitudes, we walked our drunken pride and 4 pennants!

We bought another bottle of wine and found a bench with a perfect close view of the tower. Within minutes we were drinking with a couple Germans and some guys from various islands. We cheered, danced, and drank as the tower sparkled behind us.

Sunday March 28: The Louvre

Nothing I could write would even do the Louvre justice. It is overwhelming, the rooms and ceilings are much like the art they house. I would need a whole week dedicated solely to the place to even scratch the surface of all it has to offer. After a few hours, we headed outside the park to enjoy some coffee and crepes....the french really got this part down. I am convinced a nutella and banana crepe may rival sex....

Like every other day in Paris, it was rushed and jampacked. Although we only a short amount of time, we really did get to do and see a lot. It was a great start to a week with my friends.....

Trying to Test the New Attitude

Exercising my new outlook, I met up with Beni, determined to not to overanalyse our relationship.  I still want to rip his clothes off everytime I see him, it's ashame I can't whenever I want to.  I mean I could but people would probably frown upon my undressing a man in the tube station. 

We had a drink at the bar then hopped a train to good ol' East London to meet up with his "best cousin".  They grew up together, they are close in age and appearance, and are best friends.  I spoke with him once before on the phone, I only know he speaks great english and it very polite.  He came from an hour outside of London to meet me last night. 

While waiting for his cousin to arrive, Beni and I cleared up things.  It's no secret that many Albanians procreate until they have their own football team.  Clearly I should be nervous to even bang him considering the men of his country probably have super sperm...I just assumed that he too would want a pack of kiddies.  He may very well share the super sperm of his country but luckily he does not want his own football team and considering I don't know if I want any mini me's running a muck... it was a good thing to find out!  The conversation didn't have to go further because I was saved by the cousin!

Poor Beni, I don't think he got more than one word in the rest of the night besides asking us what our next drink would be.  Best Cousin speaks wonderful English, runs his own business, and is working on his masters degree.  Maybe I picked the wrong Albanian?  We went back and forth talking about our cultures, each taking turns asking the other questions.  Beni watched with a smile as we became fast buddies!  We got along wonderfully and I couldn't help being disappointed as the bar closed and we said goodbye.  I invited Best Cousin to come out for my birthday next week, he was more excited than I expected, thanking me for the invitation multiple times!

We went back to Beni's to enjoy some alone time...Big brother works nights now so we had the whole place to ourselves for the first time.  With this new freedom, we barely made it to the living room before my dress was off and his belt buckle was undone.

The noise we made was drowned out by the creaking of his couch.  It became clear it would not stand this kind of activity much longer and with that I was lifted up and practically thrown on to the other couch.  Luckily this was sturdier.  Satisfied, we decided to shower.  I love showering with him, not soley because I like seeing him naked but because he looks funny when he washes his hair and face.  I can't help but laugh when he uses shampoo to wash his face, covered in suds he laughed when I told him his hair looks like Alfalfa from the LittleRascals.  He laughed not because it's an accurate description but because he didn't understand what I said, he only knows I was giggling so hard I almost choked.  I struggled to explain through my laughter but gave up, so in retaliation (of what he's not sure) he rubbed his soapy face all over mine.  We laughed for what seemed like an hour before drying off.  His tub comes up to my thigh so I reached for his hand to help me out and instead he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder like a fireman and carried me down the stairs.  He set me down, kissed me, and headed into the kitchen to make us food.  15 minutes later he returned with amazing bread, creamy soup, a fantastic salad and a plate of watermelon.  I have no idea where all this food came from, I wasn't even hungry but he just kept saying, "eat, eat, eat".  So I did, it's easier than telling him I'm not hungry. 

He cleaned everything up before leading me upstairs.  I laid on his chest as he told me he only wants to make me happy for as long as I'll let him.  I know he didn't realize but that statement just got him more sex, it was my way of saying thanks when I have nothing to say to a statement like that.  We shower agian, this time I ruined the potential laughter with a big dose of reality.  I can't help it, I blame my mother who is non stop nagging me to get on birth control before I pop out some dark haired babies with funny accents.  Yes, I realize its odd that she knows who I'm banging but there are oddier things about our relationship than that.  So facing my naked Albanian, I told him he better not ever get me knocked up, as if he has this kind of control.  But still, I have to say it outloud as a warning.  He kissed me on the head and said don't worry, to which I said what any girl would..."that's easy for you to say"  He seemed confused by this statement, "What do you mean I don't have to worry, of course I do, I would be just as much my problem as yours."   Immediately I wanted to shut the door I had opened, I wanted to go back to laughing, especially when he asked what I would do if something like that did happen.  I suspected he didn't want to know the answer but I told him anyway, in the vaguest way possible way to tell someone you would not be ready for that to happen, in any kind of way.  I let him assume the rest.  He kissed me and told me that if anything ever happened, he would respect any decision I made and be with me the whole way.  I really know how to ruin the mood of a hot soapy Albanian.....

He lifted me out of the tub again, this time sweetly without the sexy force of before and placed me in to bed. We feel asleep cuddling tight acting like the previous conversation didn't happen.

Pastries in the Park

You know you're in Europe when the man interviewing you for a job is drinking a beer and offers you one as well.  I didn't take him up on the offer because I l like to keep my drinking before noon to a minimum. However, it did make for a very relaxed atmosphere.  For an hour, we chatted, it was unlike any interview I had been on before. I was prepared to bullshit about my strengths and weaknesses, explain how my experience has made me a great team player, or even lie about how much I'm learning at school....but he didn't ask.  He was more interested in my opinions on London culture and the tube.  He stated very early into our chat that he loves Americans, according to him "Americans are the greatest group of people in the world."  He thought an American on his team would be beyond beneficial for his business.  We debated the downfall of the newspaper and bookstores thanks to the Internet and Amazon.com.  I am confident that unless a genius walked in after me, he will be offering me a position next week.  The only problem is that I am still unsure if it pays.  I would never even consider this at home but I need experience and I would get to build relationships with the press and UK publishers.  Not too shabby, especially because I can work from home as much or as little as I want.

Lawrence had an interview as well so we planned to meet for lunch after we were done bragging about ourselves to potential employers.  I must say we both looked dashing as we headed to a small Chinese place for lunch and a celebratory drink.  After lunch he made me buy vitamins, he is convinced I am slowly killing myself, a point that may be true but I don't love the idea of spending 9 quid on something I will most likely forget to take everyday.  But he is a presistent pain the ass and promised to buy me pastries when I pouted, so I bought them...I love a guy who bribes me with food, more men should try this!  I have a salt tooth, I eat ice cream or chocolate rarely but there is something about London and its Patisseries that makes my sweet tooth come alive!  After much debate, I selected a beautiful chocolate mousse topped with a chocolate covered strawberry.  We grabbed two cappucinos and walked to the lake in Hyde Park.  It was a movie moment, girl in dress and boots, man in tailored suit on a park bench enjoying mid-day desserts, talking about life and because it's Lawrence...evolutionary theory.  He's such a little nerd but I love how passionate he gets about things I don't give a shit to think about.  We are in so many ways the opposite, it amazes me sometimes that we are friends, I mean this in the best way possible.  I might as well have nutted myself, I was so in love with this mousse, I forgot all about my fear of ducks pecking out my eyeballs, I had to pry the fork away from my mouth just so I wouldn't eat Lawrence's dessert too.  We debated about Beni, I've been having my doubts lately.  Not because I don't have feelings for him because I do and they get more intense everytime I see him but because I am realizing what I will not have with him.  I have never believed one person can give you everything but I need to figure out what I need and what I'm willing to get from others in order to make up for the difference.  As always, Lawrence listened and then shut me up...simply explaining to worry about it only when I am no longer happy.  And he's right, Beni and I may not be able to debate evolutionary theory but Lawrence and I can....

As I said goodbye to my buddy, I realized I was no where near ready to go home, it was too nice to be home.  So I stopped at a pub, got a glass of wine, and took a table outside.  I'm reading Eat, Pray, Love at the moment and as I sat there a quote seemed to sum up my life..."You are never where you are.  You are always digging in the past or poking at the future, but rarely do you rest in the moment."  That's me alright, even in moments of happiness, I am thinking of something else, instead of just enjoying where I am.  I worry about the things I will not have with Beni if there is a future, instead of enjoying what he gives me now.  I'm an ungrateful ass and refuse to waste anymore time doing it.

So I sipped my wine, people watching, deciding not to worry about the things I wasn't doing (which was a lot) and enjoy the day.  I watched people walking down the street, smiling, for what appeared to be for no reason whatsoever.  I smile a lot but something as to provoke it:  a friend, a joke, someone tripping (yes I know I'm evil but I always chuckle) or puppies...puppies always work...I shouldn't say always those puppies on the damn Sarah Mclachlan commercial make me cry, damn Arms of the Angel song.  People that smile for no reason make me nervous, it's as if they have an evil plan to take out the world and we are all sitting ducks, waiting for it to happen.  What could they be so happy about walking down a crowded street?  What could the guy smashed against the door of the tube be laughing about at 8am?  I know I'm cynical but seriously what am I missing? 

I'm not good at relaxing, I am good at being lazy.  Which at home involves taking off my bra, laying on the couch, watching a Lifetime movie, and stuffing my face.  America, land of the free to overindulge, overstimulate, and of course pearly white smiles.   Don't get me wrong I love all of them, especially my $4,000 smile, that baby has got me many free drinks!  I think I need to try to forget those things and try to just enjoy where I am....


Sidenote:  I only mention the "American Smile"  because 3 times this week, I have been picked out as American before I speak, solely based on my smile.  Apparently we are known for our orthodontia....it's as if my teeth are made up of stars and stripes...there are worst things I guess.

Things might be looking up...

It didn't rain today which is a miracle all in itself.  It was actually nice out, it's ashame I was in class and the library all day but I'll take what I can get.  I got an email inviting me to come interview for a job this week!  It could be complete crap but maybe it'll pay enough to cover a night out.  It's for a Literary Publicist, the position would involve booking author appearances and organizing book launches.  Unfortunately the pay rate is not all that clear and it may be commissioned based, in which case I may not be interested but it's worth a shot!

I have my first presentation tomorrow, a finance presentation, luckily it's a group project so I'm hoping that we can pull it off.  I can't do so much as balance a check book, finance is way outside of my bubble.  This will be the first test whether or not I can bullshit my way through another university.  I'm actually slightly nervous to find out...

I got another text from the Jamaican asking when he can see me this week.  I wrote back without allowing myself time to think it through and I was surprised by my response.  That's what happens when I don't allow myself the time to re-read, re-type, and analyse.  "I'm not sure actually, If we hung out it would be strictly as friends, I'm with someone."  My vagina and head might be on their way to the same page.  In no way should I be proud of myself for not being a slut but I kinda am and you might be too if you saw the Jamaican! 

The Funk

I feel like I just stepped into the SNL skit where Chris Farley mistakingly ends up on a Japanese game show, similar sounds are be blasted through the speakers of my roommate's computer.  I may not get my balls electrocuted in the end but I may lose my mind all the same.  Besides our difference in language, we also don't share the same opinion on using headphones while the other is in the room.  Oh well what can I do, besides learn the Korean word for "headphones."

It's obvious to me that I am in a funk and have been for the last few days.  I blame the weather, Facebook, and my sudden surge of homesickness.  Granted, I am better than yesterday, much better than my first two weeks, yet I can't shake it.  There must be something in the pints because the other American girls are struggling this week too.  We are all very close to getting a much needed visit from friends or family.  I guess we are all having trouble waiting to go to Heathrow to pick up a dose of home.

I had a pretty good day considering the nagging feeling to get on a plane.  I woke up laughing at a very hungover Beni, there was something so funny about seeing him in the same shape he is used to seeing me in.  I forced myself out last night and surprisingly I had a blast.  My Albanian crew can really have a good time and I find myself letting go with them.  I dance even though I'm not drunk, I help them pick up chicks, and I don't cringe when someone calls me Beni's girlfriend.  I could be making real progress here...well baby steps.  Beni decided to get drunk last night (Honest Abe drinks but doesn't get drunk...ever!  He doesn't like to lose control of himself.  Could we be more different?) since he has had to deal with me on multiple occasions, I stayed relatively sober.  I didn't turn down free shots but I didn't instigate them either.  Beni, His Darling, Cousin #55 and 55's Girlfriend and I closed down one bar and headed to another.  To the boys excitement, there was a live band specializing in bad American tunes.  They live to dance, it is a great source of entertainment, especially since they were the only ones dancing most of the night.  I joined in every now and then but mainly watched from the safe distance of a bar stool.  Beni was a little drinking machine and it didn't take long before he wanted to have a heart to heart with me and everyone else.  I told him to just have fun and dance and we would talk later.  It didn't stop him.  We went outside as to not annoy the rest of the gang.  I sat on his lap as he struggled to tell me how much he cared about me, thought about me, and missed me when I wasn't there.  He told me he had something to tell me, as he started explaining that he wanted to be with me always, I stopped him.  I asked him to wait until we got home to have this chat, after 5 minutes of convincing him, we went back in.  I knew exactly where this conversation was headed and I wasn't ready for it, I'm not ready for it, I can barely cope with the idea of practically being his girlfriend.  I know what's coming next and I'm pretty sure I can't stop the conversation as easy next time, he's a pretty determined guy and when he wants to say something he does.  His drunken state worked in my favor, it prevented 2 things:  Sex (much to my dismay) and our little chat (saved by the drunken slumber!)  My little drunk passed out before I brought him back water from the kitchen. 

This morning was normal for us: we made up for not having sex the night before, cuddled, showered, and he asked me to stay longer.  I declined but promised I would see him before I left for Paris this weekend.  Over shopping and lunch, the American gals and I shared our sudden desire to be home.  The only comfort is knowing that you are not crazy or alone in hating the past few days.  I know I will feel better as soon as I get on the tube to go pick up my friend, I just have to manage until then.

First Day of Spring? Not Likely....

London is such a cocktease!  As the rain hits my window, I get to read Facebook status' from the east coast, updates filled with tank tops, BBQs, sunshine, and free Rita's.  I can't help but to be bitter that London is a little slow on entering the next season.  I don't think I'm the only one either, the tube was almost silent this afternoon on my way back from Beni's.  I'm praying that my friends arriving from Philly next week bring a little east coast warmth with them, that and some Ranch dressing.

I won't see much of Beni the next couple of weeks, he works and my friends are coming to Londontown!  We have trips planned and there isn't much room for a romp with the boy, so I blocked off most of the weekend for him.  I know I'm a regular saint for allowing him to spend time with me but it didn't go as smoothly as I hoped.  Not only was it a slightly bumpy 24 hours, I realized how quickly I turn into a brat when I don't get my way or his undivided attention.  I can turn from an educated, slightly mature 25 year to a 5 year old slamming my fists on the ground in record breaking time.

I met him in Stratford to go to the cinema, he had a long week at work, so I did my best to be perky and cheerful.  We went to see Shutter Island, good but a little slow, I could tell 30 minutes in that he wasn't that interested and wasn't following the plot very well.  He laughed at parts that didn't really warrent a chuckle, which annoyed me.  With my hand on his thigh, I could feel his phone vibrating every 20 minutes.  Finally he checked it, and excused himself.  Of course while he is gone, the movie unravels, and the plot is explained.  After what felt like 20 minutes, he returning, mumbling something about it being his boss, I shot him a look and shhh'ed him.  The movie ended and we left, it took him only seconds before he asked if I was mad at him.  Well no shit, I'm mad, or more accurately annoyed at the idea that I was left alone in a movie.  Here's a thought, call him back 15 minutes later when the movie is over.  I told him I was annoyed.  He kissed me and apologized.  I told him he's lucky I didn't pick up another guy while he was absent.

We walked to a pub, his phone rang again, I tried not to be annoyed immediately but after 15 minutes of hearing him speak Albanian, I couldn't help it.  He knew I was annoyed, he apologized again and told me it wouldn't happen again.  But it did...3 other times.  Although I had no idea what he was saying, I knew he was angry and fighting, the random "fucks" thrown into the conversation were a pretty good clue.  He was working tomorrow, I felt bad for him so I didn't push the fact that I was mad too.  His anger lasted much longer than mine.  It was the first time, I saw him anything but happy, so angry that as he explained what happened he slipped in between English and Albanian.  Note for others dating Albanian men, they don't exactly love hearing they are cute when they are angry. 

We walked home, I bought a bottle of wine and snacks, determined to salvage the rest of the night.  He has about 3 movies in his collection, all of which are bootlegs.  I picked out Taken.  Picking this movie could not have been more odd considering my current situation.  1.  I leave for Paris in a week.  2.  I am dating an Albanian who wants to take me to Albanian for his brothers wedding this summer. 

Spoiler Alert:  If you want to see it, stop reading.  I am going to give away some of it, nothing that I suspect you couldn't get from a review or a trailer.

Two young Americans travel to Paris, only to be kidnapped by an Albanian gang, known for sextrafficing.  They target young women traveling abroad, mainly Americans, get them addicted to drugs, and sell them to men all over Europe as sex slaves.  Kinda awkward but what the hell, let's make it educational.  I asked Beni if there was really an Albanian maffia?  And yes there is, a pretty brutal one at that.  Are they known to traffic women? Why, yes they are known for sextrafficing.  Good to know.  Then I decided to try to be funny and ask if he was just being nice so he could lure me into his country only to turn around and sell me.  He didn't laugh right away but it was established that he wouldn't sell me for less than 1 million pounds.  Anyone that would buy me, would surely ask for a refund within a day!

As he left for work this morning, he asked me to stay and wait for him.  He would be home by 1:30 and chances are I would still be alseep, so I said I would.  12:30 roles around and as expected I was still asleep.  He would be home in an hour.  By 2:30, I called him, I'm a good sleeper and all but I can only sleep for so long, especially if I'm hungry.  He would be home in 20 minutes.  By 3:15, I was pissed.  His brother was driving him home so unless a bridge exploded or they were pushing the fucking car, I don't know how it could take this long.  And with that I was right back to slamming my fists on the ground.  I yelled, he apologized but it was too late, I had already decided to be mad.  He called me back to beg me to stay, his brother doing the same in the background.  At this point I was too angry to go back, not to mention I had already locked myself out of his flat.  I am now that brat that gets mad at a boy for traffic and having to work. 

In continuing with my bratty outlook of the day, I told him I didn't know if I still wanted to see him tonight.  Maybe after some food and coffee, I'll be smitten again but it's not likely...

A Love Affair

The honeymoon never lasts forever.  It's inevitable that relationships become routine and comfortable.  But for now I am still in love. 

Living smack against 7 million people can be surprisingly lonely and daunting.  Sunshine and a smile from a stranger on the tube are rare.  Today's sunshine and warmer weather was like a much needed embrace from a friend.  Afternoons like today make me stop, take a deep breath, and realize that I am lucky enough to be living my dream.

I have been warned, my love affair with London will not be without annoyance or abuse, I will forget the excitement of living in Europe, I will get irritated with the tube, I will be depressed by the cold, dark winters, and I will miss America.  Over skype, Lawrence and I talked about our relationship with the city.  His honeymoon phase is over, yet London will do something every now and then to make him love it all over again.  I am lucky enough to still get excited seeing Tower Bridge and Big Ben, I still have my eyes wide open in each new neighborhood, and I still get surprised everytime I realize how far away I am from home.

Admittedly, I have been a hot mess here.  Last night was no different but in my defense who wasn't, it was only the biggest drinking holiday of the year!  I drunk dialed the boy and asked to sleep over.  Yes, I am still avoiding my flat.  I woke him up, he was obviously tired and most likely annoyed but he met me at the station an hour later anyway.  Dressed like an idiot in green and orange, I ran up and planted a kiss on him, giggling over nothing the whole way home.  We crawled into bed and cuddled.  I didn't really care if we had sex, I was drunk and tired but he was wide awake and ready to go.  It was an impressive marathon on both parts, mainly on his part, I was just impressed I didn't fall off the bed.  We layed next to each other and he said something in Albanian.  I asked for the translation:  "My heart likes you so much"  I told him I liked him too, in his language.  It was adorable but made me incrediably nervous that our differences were going to be too much to handle.  I voiced my concerns and he silenced them, at least for the moment.  In his opinion as long as we like each other the rest will fall into place, our differences only matter if we let them.  A very nice thought, I am going to try to follow the same school of thought.

He got ready for work and left me in his bed to sleep longer.  I awoke a few hours later and headed home.  It was only 8:30 and already a beautiful day!  I walked home, motivated to not waste the day.  I made myself a cup of terrible coffee and decided to make up for being lazy about contacting people from home.  The longer I am here, the lazier I get about emails and phone calls to the states.  It's not that I don't want to talk to people, it's just that sometimes I feel bad talking about trips I'm taking or friends I'm making here.  I spent 3 hours on skype calling my grandparents, friends, and parents.  My grandparents could not have been more excited to hear from me, in fact they didn't believe it was me and did not understand how I was calling them.  Ahh, the wonders of technology!  It's sad that it took me moving to Europe to really appreciate them, I have more contact with them now than I did when I lived at home.  Talking to friends and family put me a great mood so I went to explore the park behind my flat.

I have been here two months and have never really explored Regent's Park.  It's massive and stunning.  It's amazing that a space like that can make you forget you are in a city.  Waterfalls, fountains, wooden bridges, and vast fields drowned out the sounds of the city.  I spend two hours getting lost in the park, every once in a while you could catch a glimpse of a skyscapper.  People slept on benches (not bums), snuggled up to their significant other on the field, paddled down the lake, and played fetch with their dogs.  And for those two hours, I forgot I shared space with 7 million people.  I couldn't help falling in love with London all over again.

And just like all love stories, London will test and disappoint me but at least I loved it today.  As I finish typing this, London is warning me not to fall too hard!  Looks like I will be pulling my wellies out from the back of my closet again.....it's raining again!

Tidbits that might be worth mentioning...

Contrary to popular belief, I did not come to London solely for accents, snogs, and shags...those are the bonuses and perks of my situation.  Ok so maybe they did help finalize my decision to move but they weren't the main reason for a big move.  The real reason is simple:  I was bored, I needed a change of pace, and hopefully figure out what the hell I wanted from my life.  I may still be clueless when it comes to figuring out what I want from men but the last two days helped me figure out what I want in my career.

I wasn't so far off base at home, I knew I liked working for nonprofits, I knew I liked events, I just didn't have any room to grow given the circumstances.  I spent the last two days working under my career crush, shes a young event planning consultant that seems to know everyone.  She freelances all over the UK and even runs a four day concert in Malawi.  I was one of two volunteer coordinators she selected for today's event, A National Indoor Rowing Competition that gives youth (mainly those could not otherwise) a chance to get into rowing.  Over 3,000 youths participated, over 150 volunteers helped run the day-long event.  Armed with a walkie talkie, I was in charge of making sure they were happy, kids were in place, people got breaks, and aswering questions people might have.  Since school has been pissing me off lately, it was nice to remember how much I liked doing things like this.  Especially when it gives people a chance to do things they can't normally do.  It was great to see kids get cheered on by Olympians and big time rowers...just one of those warm and fuzzy days.  It was exactly the feeling that kept me at my last job for 3 years.

So since I don't see myself getting a check for a Mil, anytime soon, I am going back to working towards something realistic that will make me happy....my own events company that consults with nonprofits....it's perfect in theory: warm and fuzzy feeling, check!  No burning out from working with only one organization, Check!  Picking and choosing projects I want, Check!  Ok, so it's not going to be that easy but maybe I have the start of a plan....now who wants to give me the money for it?

With things starting to move in school in work, it was only a matter of time before another aspect starting annoying me.  Afterall everything can't be sunshine and rainbows in the world of me for more than two seconds.

The last couple weeks, I have been annoyed over two emails because they both seem like a load of crap and they are both from former men in my life.  One came while I was in Ireland: Philly Fuck Buddy has a real way of coming into my life shortly after I forget all about his existence.  He had only two speeds; total douche or captain saves the day.  Total Douche was a speed he was comfortable in and I let him ride that one out for way too long.  Our goodbye was slightly sad and slightly forced; he had someone new and I knew we would never work in any kind of world.  His email was short:  "I hope you are having an amazing time...contrary to what you believe, I miss you.  What is your phone number and address over there.  Please write me back soon."  My reply a week later was "I don't know why you want it but here is my info."  We haven't spoken since which defeats the purpose of contacting someone you "miss", but it did make me remember why I couldn't wait to get away from him in the first place.

Email #2:  The awkward return of the Barrister.  Ok, not so much a return, it was more of a return my shit.  I borrowed a book while we were dating, I thought about sending it back in the post but I didn't care enough.  Apparently it was a gift and he "would quite like to see it again."  Whatever, I don't give a shit about the book.  What did annoy me is how formal it all was.  I felt like I was reading a letter from a lawyer....oh that's right I was.  I think going down on someone should spare you the annoyance of having to read crap like "the purpose of this email is...."  "If I am mistaken in this assumption, I welcome your correction"  "I am not sure what method would prove convienent.  I got less formal letters from a courtroom!  So that should be an odd meeting at my tube station on Thursday.

Email #3:  I know I said I was only annoyed with two, which is true, only two annoyed me but another is worth mentioning.  The 3rd random email came from the Jamaican via Facebook.  Just when I'm down to one, another finds my thanks to the ease of stalking on Facebook.  He wants to hang out next week.  I think I'm gonna try to leave this one alone....

I'm crazy patty.....

"You don't need a pot o' gold to get sloshy!"

I love the month of March in Philly, Erin Express, carbombs, funny outfits, and a whole lot of Irish love.  I can't say that I don't miss drinking outside the Blarney Stone in West Philly all day, I do....a whole whole lot.  I had no idea how much they celebrated in London so when I got the call...I ran to Trafalger Square to find out!  It's ashame I spent the majority of the day in bed with Beni and missed most of the celebration.  I did work very hard to make up for it though....

Like at home, people poured into the streets by the thousands, drinking beer, dressing like idiots, and pretending to be as Irish as the Irish themselves.  I met the American girls at a bar filled with Drag Queens, I like the combination of Irish and men in drag, it added a whole new level to the day!  The best part was, 3 shots and 3 Double mixed drinks only cost us 18 quid!  Shots were only 2 pounds.....BARGAIN!!!!!

We did a mini pub crawl before stuffing our faces with traditional british food....great way to spend a Sunday!  We plan on making a huge to -do on Wednesday, daydrinking round 2, I hope I make a better showing this time around.  I stumbled home pretty early only to find my roomie in bed at 9:15!!!  This better be a jetlag thing because that just won't work for me.

More and more Albanians.....

I ran out of the flat 10 minutes after meeting my new roomie, well 10 minutes after I cleared off her side of the room.  I can't deal.  I really can't deal with it because we can't communicate, I know I should be sympathetic, but I'm not.  I haven't shared a room in 5 years and I don't want to start.  I give her credit for moving somewhere without knowing the language but I didn't sign up to tudor...This is a cup, this is a door....yada yada hand gestures....I don't want to do any of it!  So I ran to Lawrence's for some chat, cake & custard, and coffee.  Thank god for the people around me, I would just cry myself to sleep every night if not for them.

After a good chat, I met Beni, why he wanted to see me after my shanangians I will never know but I went.  Despite a considerable amount of urging from my liver to give up the booze, we had some beers.  He recounted the events from the night before, most of which I didn't remember.  I apologized, he told me not to worry but I can't act like that when I'm by myself.  He didn't want to go out the night before but apparently I sounded like a disaster and he knew someone had to watch me.  Otherwise I risked being "stolen" haha!  Who in their right mind would want to steal me I dont know but it was nice to hear despite my extreme embarassment over the night before.

His darling came...well that's what they jokingly call each other.  We got along swimmingly, especially when he told me he banged a 45 year old woman but didn't know until post sex.  It was the perfect moment to explain what a cougar was. I've decided the going rate for a cute albanian...200 quid a night, he will put out. Or at least I have told them they have to. This is the conversation we had before the club, neither boys seemed to mind, in fact we all agreed that there was money to be made. White chicks are soooo last year, there has to be some cougar willing to pay me to see the boys naked.  Maybe I don't need a job afterall....we left in search of finding darling some ass...paid or unpaid!

Since Beni pays for my drinking habits all the time, I got in his friends good graces with lots of shots, drinks, and my amazing ability to pick up chicks for a dude.  As he made out with my pick, Beni and I danced close.  I made him teach me dirty words in Albanian, which I made sure to use at opportune moments.  I find myself liking him more and more.  There is just something about him, beyond the eyes, beyond the accent, beyond the sex.....at this moment I can't even say I have any urge to hook up with someone else.  I have no interest, I want him.

We danced all night, he got drunk, I was sober in comparision, I bought him food, he hailed a cab.  We headed back to his place to find his brother still awake.  I'm used to my lil albanian crew now, brother and I chatted while Beni cuddled up on my lap.  His brother stopped for a minute to look at us and laugh and make some comment about Beni and I being different than last time.  I can't begin to understand what he meant but I don't care.

We layed in bed all morning, drinking coffee, cuddling, and watching bad british TV.  I am in over my head.  Part of me wants to end it now because I am getting in too deep and it makes me nervous....

CURSES!

Fuck my life.  Fuck my life.  FUCK MY LIFE!!!!!

I'm hungover to a degree that makes me want to vomit everytime I lift my head.  Ya know what makes a hangover worse?  Waking up to a girl with suitecases coming through the door disturbing my half naked booze coma!  Disoriented, I looked around the room that is a disaster, definately not a room that says welcome to London, let's share a small space and become BFFs.  I struggled to find some pants and say hello and sorry for the mess and the fact that I have taken over the room.  My greeting and apologies were lost on her, not because I looked scary (which I did) but because she doesn't understand a word of English.....this should be interesting.

Luckily the poor girl didn't arrive a couple hours earlier, I'm sure I was scary enough, I can't imagine how scary it would have been to see a naked boy in my bed too. 

Goodbye drunken skype calls.  Goodbye naked men in my bed.  Goodbye throwing my clothes everywhere.  Goodbye dancing around in my underwear to Beyonce.  Goodbye privacy.

Hello awkward silence, language barriers like WHOA, and no closet space.

Fuck my life.......


In other less dramatic news:  Beni met Lawrence and Ashley last night.  They approved.  Although I am completely surprised that he even called me today considering the shape I was in last night.  He has now seen me at my finest:  passing out on the tube, peeing in public, and crying because I was drunk and missed my mommy.  Oh, and he witnessed me eat half a frozen pizza to my face....I really do get sexier everyday!  No more daydrinking with Rocki and multiple bottles of wine, I didn't even make it out past midnight.

We could be doomed from the start.....

We aren't good on the phone.  We have trouble understanding each other's accents at times.  He doesn't understand all of my sarcasm.  I have trouble fully believing it when he tells me something nice, mainly when it sounds like a scene from Love Actually.  I can barely pronounce his full name, let alone those of his friends and family.  He has trouble reading english, I can't even begin to read Albanian.  I am in mountains of debt from education, he left school because there weren't loans.  He's religious, I am not.  He doesn't believe in lying, not that anyone does but he's a regular honest Abe, never told a lie.  And anyone that knows me or has read this blog for more than a day knows, I have told my fair share, sometimes even for fun (lying about your name in Vegas is completely legit in my mind).  We are worlds apart in everyway, I suspect we are more different than either of us realize at this point. 

That laundry list of reasons should be enough to make me turn and walk away before things get complicated but I've always been a sucker for a man that makes me laugh combine that with an intense stare, a kiss on the forehead, and an understated strength and the list is gone.  Socioeconomic factors like education and language barriers may win, this may be doomed from the start but for now, I will be smitten with the foreigner who effortlessly scoops me up and carries me up the stairs of the tube station (it's a lot of stairs and I am not an easy scoop!) 

After a lunch and movie date with Lawrence, I got an expected call from Beni, he's back to work and sadly not at my beck and call anymore.  I haven't seen him since Friday so the offer for a drink crushed any hope me staying at home all week.   We met in Holborn, kissed hello, and I was introduced to guess what....another Albanian!  Shocker I know, this co-worker couldn't believe Beni "pulled a cute American" (his words not mine).  Over drinks, the friend questioned the fact that Beni had actually picked me up, why I was out in a mostly Eastern European neighborhood when clearly I belong in Zone 1 (central London), and what it was like growing up in the US.  Odd fact, the Albanians have an obsession with Canada, every one I met wants to go there, not NYC, Canada...who would have guessed....no offense to Canadians.  As Manchester United played, the friend gave me a history lesson, normally I don't want to talk history or politics over pints, but I couldn't stop asking questions.  I learned more in 20 minutes about Communism and the struggles of living under it, than I have in 20 years of school.  Friend hasn't been back home in 12 years, he basically had to sneak out of the country and now cannot return because he has no passport.  He has to wait another year for British citizenship, then he can go home without any consequences.  I have never been so glad to have grown up in the US, we have our problems but nothing compared to some of the stories I have heard from people over here.  Sex trafficing, running from a communist regeme, forced military service, and leaving home to work at the age of 12 are outside our American bubble and I am thankful for it, especially as a woman.  Although things aren't equal, no where near equal for everyone, at least I have options besides childbirth, cooking, and raising a football team.... (not that all Albanian women are forced to stay home or other Eastern European countries for that matter)

Friend and I got into a little heated debate about the role and responsibilies of women.  He is at least 10 years older than Beni, it's amazing the difference between one generations thoughts to another.  Beni stopped us before I really lost it, I wasn't trying to bash his culture by any means and he wasn't trying to bash ours, there were clear cultural differences about how we were raised.  His sisters did not grow up hearing they could be President.  After our debate, he looked at Beni and told him his girlfriend is funny and cute, he looked at me and asked if I had any American friends I could hook him up with.

Beni and I said goodbye and headed to my flat, stopping first for a bottle of wine.  Over wine, I disclosed the blog, he didn't give a shit.  Determined to not let the blog come in between me and another guy, I pulled it up on my computer.  He asked what I wrote about him and I pulled one up for him to read.  He didn't read it, he didn't care, he told me that's my thing and kissed me.  He told me about his last relationship, I told him about my string of meaningless dates back home.  There wasn't even a hint of anger when he told me he was cheated on, brushing it off as "we weren't meant to be". 

Vulnerable from the conversation and the wine, we crawled into bed.  Twin beds are not conducive to banging, especially when they creak with every innocent movement.  It didn't stop us but it did stop my suitemate from sleeping, that was an ackward knock on the door.  I feel its even considering the flutes, I apologized and said goodnight.  Beni and I moved to the floor and tried to not disturb.   After we were finished, he stayed laying on top of me, brushing my hair out of my face, kissing me softly on the tip of my nose.  I tried not to laugh when he told me I was beautiful, he is either honest or a huge fan of American chick flicks, I won't hold either against him.  We stayed on the floor for another hour or two using up a pack of condoms before crawling back into bed.  I didn't wake when he got ready for work at 5:30.  He kissed me goodbye and headed to work on an hour of sleep.

No Complaints

I haven't stopped moving for 13 hours, I'm tired but it was a great day considering 6 of those hours were spent in class!  I am really starting to feel comfortable with my classmates, its a fun group of people and we are finally able to joke around freely.  School has become a big social part of my life here, slightly pathetic but I'll take it!

After class, I finally did something cultural, I haven't done that since my first weeks here, the weeks pre-friends.  Three fellow ex-pats and I went to grab a quick dinner and then headed to see a performance of Wicked.  I found tickets for 20 quid, pretty cheap for London theater, so we all took advantage of it.  It was really an incrediable show!  Definately worth 20 pounds, well 23, if you count the ice cream we bought during intermission.  But I stand by the fact that Mint Chocolate Chip seemed an appropriate selection considering the show.

Last night, in an attempt to brighten my spirits, I got a little reckless with my debit card.  My poor poor, no income in the foreseeable future, bank account.  I am the proud purchaser of a weekend trip to Paris with my Bff and a week in Malta!!  Oh and I threw some concert tickets on there for good measure!   I couldn't be more excited, I get to put a few more stamps in my passport and maybe some more snogs in the blog!  I'll worry about a job another day.... until then I am going to dream of 30 countries before 30!

I Hate Mondays!

It's not like I have ever been the girl that wakes up early, ready to take on the world, my drive doesn't kick in until sometime after lunch and mulitple cups of coffee.  In fact I would prefer everyday to start at noon.  Yes, I waste the morning but in my opinion its overrated, I don't like breakfast food and birds chirping never gave me the warm and fuzzies.  Having a class at 9am really makes me hate mondays.  I have no idea why after 3 years of being at work at 9am I still can't handle being out of bed that early.

I woke up, showered, ran out of the flat, as the door slammed I realized I left my wallet inside.  Perfectly fine except for the fact that my key is in my wallet, fantastic!  Luckily, I live in a place with a reception desk which is supposed to be staffed 24hrs a day.  Unluckily, those fuckers must have been out on a coffee break, no wallet and late, I ran to the tube.  My love affair with the tube has lasted longer than any men I have dated over here but even that is coming to a quick end.  It is beyond crowded in the morning, unless I'm making out, I don't want anyone that close to my face.  I squeezed in only to breath in the air of a man who may but most likely did not brush his teeth this morning!  I absolutely love the smell of hot garbage in the morning, really starts things off well.

I suffered through a 2 hour seminar, most of which was a waste of time.  This is my week of being productive, I have so much to do and yet no motivation to do any of it.  Like finding a job, I have been avoiding this since I got off the plane, I am avoiding it even more now that I realize no one will pay me more than 5-6 quid an hour ($7.50), I'm going to start charging the men who want to snog me, how else am I going to afford living here!

Here are some things I hate today:

Instant coffee:  why this is acceptable to sell, I will never know...but I can't afford a coffee maker or my starbucks habit
Expensive flights to the US:  Why is it cheaper for me to spend 9 days in Egypt than see my friends/family
My pants:  Damn London for their pies, bacon, and anything Cadbury. I can't stay away and my pants can't button.
Downloading:  I have been downloading the same 30min show for 2 hours and there are still 2 to go
Flutes:  The constant practice of my two suitemates has become like nails on a chalkboard
Children:  For whatever reason, a whole pack of kiddies play outside my window, they scream nonstop and inevitably one boy will push one girl and she will scream.

I should have stayed in bed, just being awake right now makes me want to rip my hair out, shove a flute up someone's ass, or throw dodgeballs at small children.  Maybe I need to get laid or book a holiday to an exotic location.  This funk better not carry over to tomorrow.

Trying to be Productive

I think it's no secret that I have been having a little too much fun, too much to drink, and possibly too many men.  I have done nothing productive or studious in weeks.  As fun as it is, I think I need to start making some progress, this is all brought on by an incrediable hangover today and my increasingly noticable beer pudge.  I am close to becoming a chubby bunny again and I'm not a fan.  So I'm not drinking this week...at least not until Friday.  Instead of boozing it up I am going to take care of the UK stuff (national insurance number, find a GP, and apply for my international student card), search for a job (something needs to pay for this new lifestyle), and do some school work.

Last night was enough fun for a couple days, my body needs a break!

The Aftermath of Break Up #1

Since my first days in London, I have counted things:  The days here, the snogs, the shags, and now break ups.  Like snogs, there will no doubt be a list of them at the end of this journey.  Angry and disappointed, I ran to Lawrence after break up #1 with the Barrister.  Sorry Barrister fans, you will have to find another character to root for, that ship has sailed and crashed.  I love  Lawrence because he:

Bought me a beer and shot within 5 minutes, Hugged me, Bought frozen pizzas, chocolate, and bacon.
Made me frozen pizzas (topped with bacon), cheese wrapped in smoked salmon topped with cavier (drunk eating at a whole new level). Made me drinks of Sloe Gin and Champaigne. Let me whine and yell about anything and everything.  Let me pass out in his bed

While none of those overshadowed the disappointment of the night, it did help me get over it pretty quick.  I didn't think about it much as I met friends for an afternoon drink and trip to the travel agent.  All boy matters aside I am leading a pretty great life over here.  Barrister was all but out of my head when I took the tube to see Beni.  I shouldn't say it that way, I still thought of him but it is much easier to get over someone when you can get on top of a hot Albanian who adores you.

The Albanians are everywhere, I question how many are actually left in their country.  Everytime I see Beni, we run into his family or friends, he must have 30 cousins in London alone, not to mention 2 brothers here, and umpteen friends.  He kissed me hello, we walked 5 feet before running into his cousin.  I joked that he knew everyone and we all went to the bar for a drink.  His brother came 20 minutes later.  There I sat with 3 of them, all related.  They were all entertained by me, most likely because A:  I am entertaining sometimes or more likely B:  They have no idea what I'm saying half the time.  We drank and played pool (it's different over here, I suck to begin with, even more so when the rules and balls are different)  Beni's brother and I vs.  Beni and the Cousin.  We came out victorious twice, no help to me.  I didn't mind watching Beni play and I don't think he minded seeing me bend over the table either.  Beni, Brother, and I headed back to their place, picked up some booze, and watched American movies.  I love learning about different cultures, especially when it is so different from the US.  Brother and I talked while Beni cooked, he stopped only to make sure I was ok, had enough to drink, and was warm enough.

Brother went to bed, Beni and ate, then cuddled on the couch.  Interesting culture differences of the night were:  Beni's Life:

• The Milk he drank as a child, he milked from a cow in his backyard....a fucking cow, 2 to be exact
• He has chickens, he has cut off a chickens head, then ate it for dinner
• He had a horse growing up
• When he gets home, the whole village comes over to greet him
• He taught himself English and moved here without knowing one word
• He grew up on beaches with clear water, so clear you can see your feet and those of everyone else

My Life:

• I have never touched a cow except for maybe a fair petting zoo, there is really no point I don't drink milk
• I eat chicken, it is packaged from a grocery store, I don't even like touching it, let alone killing it
• I asked for a pony until I was 10, again my only interaction with them at a fair
• When I get home, the city of Philadelphia is not notified nor gives a shit, spare my friends and family who aren't even a dent in the population
• I only speak English, shit English to be honest...I can barely understand some Brits when they talk
• Jersey shore...enough said

He couldn't be more outside of my bubble.  I am fascinated by him, of course it doesn't hurt that he looks great in the shower.  He mentioned a dream last night, I was deciding between him and another man....Beni said "Thank gosh it was only a dream and I woke up before I saw who you picked"  Is there something written on my forehead, have I been branded, or am I just more obvious than I thought?  We spent the rest of night and a good portion of the morning/afternoon in bed.  Sex with Beni is beyond hot, it's passionate, gentle but rough...I wanted a guy who could throw me around a bit and I found one....he makes me feel like I weigh two pounds!  Even mid-sex, we couldn't seem to get close enough to each other, touch or kiss enough.  As he lathered my back this morning in shower, I realized I could get used to him even despite the fact that he has slaughters chickens. 

PS:  Since there are some concerned parties:  I always wrap it before I tap it......

At what price, blogdom

It was bound to happen, it's not like I didn't know that.  I figured last night with the Barrister would produced any of the following outcomes:

A:  He would tell me he understood and still wanted to see me
B:  He would tell me he doesn't want to see me anymore
C:  He would make me choose between him and Beni
D:  He would say he didn't want to know and the converstation would be over

I did not think it would produce E:  Me yelling, cursing, walking out, only to be chased down the street by him

I have told some white lies the last couple of days to keep my worlds seperate, a deceitful and somewhat sneaky move.  The irony of the night is not lost on me.  It did produce the final outcome I was prepared for, the Barrister and I are no longer.  I had worked up the courage to be 100% honest with him, up until now he knew that I was not/could not be exclusive with him, seeing other people, and I'm pretty sure he knew I might be sleeping with others as well.  He also new there was a blog, I told him almost immediately, I have offered him the blog address twice.  I have also told him most of what I have written about him. 

I don't admit to knowing his urge to see this blog, I would think that it would be strong.  He told me on multiple occassions, he didn't want to know or read it.  I trust you, I would never search for it, what purpose would that serve.  As I said in a post before, I had a very strong feeling he found the blog.  Mainly because he called me one night an hour after posting my concerns about our relationship, he addressed all of them in our conversation.  I asked him if he read it, he said no and again repeated similar statements about not wanting to see it.


I went over tonight with one mission, complete honesty. I was prepared to lose both of them but keep some sense of moral grounding.  Our conversation would provide him an exit, one I would assume he would take.  I mean what man in his right mind is ok with this situation.

He offered me wine, over the first glass he talked about his drunk weekend and the best places to pull girls.  I didn't mind except for the fact that this is out of character.  I called him on it, he said he was just making conversation.  I may not be an Oxford grad but I'm not a moron, something was up and he wanted me to know he could play my game too.  I smiled and finally asked when he would admit he was mad at me.  He ignored it and continued on about how marriage and kids are only a hope and not a plan.  Exactly what I said was my fear in a blog.  Previous conversations became clear: In the last week, he questioned my desire to become a Carrie Bradshaw, my overzealous attempt to create excitement for the sole purpose of a blog.  There was no question, he read it.  I asked him over the wine, he changed the subject and moved on to saying how we are not exclusive, whats the point if one person isn't ready.  As long as there are walls and the two don't mix he said, funny that was my blog today!

When he returned from the bathroom, I was direct, "did you find my blog?"  He chose this time to be honest, he did...he found it in passing.  Impossible!  My first suspicion lead me to the egotistical google yourself endeavour.  An hour later I hadn't found it, I even used the name and my user name, neither of which are real. He admitted to going in my email.  Trust is a funny thing, I didn't think twice about using his computer, fuck I was bringing clothes over to his house, why the fuck would I not use his computer.  He doesn't use gmail but I do, so there is no purpose to going on the site, except to try to read my emails.  I was still logged in, he felt he was losing ground and what better to handle the situation that to be the person that I want him to be in blog.  It was manipulation at its finest.

My blog is public but my email is not.  He had to scroll through, open emails, and click on them to find the blog.  How many other emails did he read, did he read the ones from my family, my friends, my classmates?  I am no angel, in fact maybe I created this animal, but I would never, have never broken someone's privacy.  We have known each other for 4 weeks, apparently just enough time for him to stalk my email.  He said it just popped up, he didn't realize it was my email....bullshit!  There is not a curse word I did not use, he backpeddled, I yelled, he apologized, I yelled some more.

I do not care that he read the blog, I don't care that he found out the details of my sex/snog life, I do care how he did it.  I do care that he thought I was too dumb to notice the change in his behavior.  I do care that he had the opportunity to have the blog openly and didn't take it.  I do care that he attempted to use the blog to become someone he wasn't but thought I wanted. 

I left, I was exhausted from yelling, I made it half way before he reached me.  He apologized, acknowledged it wasn't helpful, said it was wrong.  I told him to go home and read on.  He admitted I was honest about my intentions, but he knew he was fucking up and didn't want to lose me, he still wanted to see me.  I walked away.  I sit now with a text and an email, both apologizing and pleading.

Dear Barrister,

Since I know you are watching and waiting for the next post, here is one just for you.  I claim no innocence in any situation but I accept no guilt for your actions.  I liked you for who you were, not the you that spent the last week being because you read my blog. I gave you multiple opportunities to read it, you declined.  I liked you a lot and maybe if you weren't sneaky and  tried to manipulate the situation and just waited a couple months, there was a possibility you could have gotten what you wanted all along.  It was not the reading of the blog, it was the searching through my email to find it....especially because I offered you the whole truth.   I am sorry for lying to you at any point and I am sorry that I couldn't give you what you wanted.  You are a wonderful guy, I honestly believe you have all the best intentions but curiousity got the better of you.  Next time just ask, you will be surprised what someone with tell you.

Sincerely,

Mucky pup


AND THEN THERE WAS ONE!

Oversexed!

I woke up in the sculpted arms of my naked Albanian, his years of construction work obviously visible.  He kissed me gently on the forehead and told me liked waking up to me, which marks the second man to say this to me in a month, which is one amazing fact considering I am not cute or sweet in the morning....hell sometimes I'm barely human! Against my better judgement I spent the night with him and capitalized on our sexual chemistry twice the night before and once in the morning.  It was exactly the kind of night that would make any girl wake up smiling and I did.  It was hours later over lunch with Lawrence that I realized that I have ignored any signs of my own emotional unraveling.  It wasn't exactly an epiphany, ist was Lawrence pointing out the fact that I am creating a potentially damaging situation.  Aside from any hurt I might cause the Barrister and now Beni, I am creating a stressful and dramatic scenario for myself.  As my father pointed out, my life is becoming like an episode of Seinfeld, "a George divided against itself cannot stand".  When my one dating world collides/meets my other dating world there will be trouble, Barrister has already collided with my friend world.  The Worlds Collide Theory is going to happen, my two dating worlds will collide...eventually. 

It might be important to note that I have slept with the same number of men in a month that I did in 3 years in Philly.  One of them was a consistent fuck buddy/friend/boyfriend who could never give me what I needed except in bed.  Now I have two men who want to give me attention, affection, and what I thought I wanted in Philly.  They are the polar opposites of each other, if only I could combine Beni's James Franco face with Barristers intelligence or Beni's strength and assertiveness with Barristers class and awareness.  They are both amazing people, kind, compassionate, and committed to making me happy.  Yet, if either asked me today to be with them and only them I would decline.  I am just realizing how fucked up I might be.  I can't say it's all bad, I am having the time of my life with them, each give me something different even in bed.  Each wanting to spend the majority of their time with me.  Each wanting to take care of me.

I don't know the point I became commitment phobic but I wish I did.  Maybe I am making up for years of unfulfilling relationships with men, maybe I am being that girl, maybe I won't commit because one of them could hurt me.  I have decided, with the urging of Lawrence, I will be more honest than I am comfortable being with both of them.  I will let them both know where they stand and let them decide if they want to continue.  I have been on the other end of similar situations and there is nothing worse than finding out you have been exclusive with someone who wasn't to you.  The Barrister is aware that I am not exclusive to him, even saying he would wait.  Tonight I have to tell him, he may be waiting for a long time and I am seeing someone else, let's see how quickly he accepts it or throws me out on my ass.  If I were him, I would throw me out on my ass.  Beni is trickier but I will tell him tomorrow after dinner.   Curses, I may be back to square one tomorrow.

With that possibility and Lawrence's strong opinion that I am oversexed.  We went to a sex shop after lunch.  I know, not necessarily what someone that is possibly oversexed needs but I listened to his theory.  Since there is no sign of my sex drive deminishing, I should at least be set so that I don't need to booty call one of them.  There is nothing funnier than shopping for a vibrator with a straight guy you aren't sleeping with.  This is not me giving up sex, that would be crazy, this is me being prepared to get dumped by two men in two days. 

Call it my quarter life crisis, my own sexual revolution, my social experiment on myself.....either way it is interesting, at least to me.

A revolt against education

I was born without the ability to shut my mouth a trait when combined with exhaustion makes me want to fight anything and everything.  The freedom of a new city makes it worst, I have nothing to lose, well I'm sure I do but I refuse to acknowledge that right now.

I have been annoyed at one of my classes for a couple weeks now, we all have.  I will spare you the details since it's boring and pointless.  It has been a waste of my time, money, and frankly wasn't even worth me getting out of bed this morning.  After being told the 2nd week in a row, to not worry about something, you'll find out when I'm ready to tell you, I had enough.  The teacher, a douche, has ignored half our class, after listening to 40 people complain and bitch, I raised my hand.  I calmly asked the teach questions, clarification, and after patronizing answers, I could feel my face turn red.  He dismissed me and tried to change the subject.  This time without raising my hand, I asked when the hell I would learn something because I am not showing up until then.  He told me I am learning, I challenged him until other students started raising their hands.  A fellow American asked where she could get her money back.  And then the Greek and Spanish came in, it was over at that point, the class was in uproar and the teacher walked out.  Asshole!  We pay his salary, he technically works for us.  I haven't been so angry since I got here.  We all left and made a plan to speak with the dean as a group.

From there I went to a focus group about student housing.  Considering the mood I was in, I was more than happy to give my opinion on anything.  The best part was that they paid me for talking for 2 hours.  Best money ever, I hope they want my opinion on other things, I could use the money. 

I went to Lawrence's for dinner.  We drank yummy drinks, stuffed our faces, and whined/bitched all night.  A perfect way to end a shit day!

Difficult to Resist

I got back to London around 1am on Sunday, turned on my computer in an attempt to reconnect with the everyone I hadn't talked to in days.  I barely signed on when I was bombarded with IMs from the Barrister both on facebook and Gchat.  The warm fuzzy feeling that I had because people missed me in London was fleeting, I was way too tired/hungover to stay up late and chat especially since I had class at 9am the next morning.  I said goodnight to Lawrence and the Barrister and promised I would try to see them both the next day.

I never made it to class and I never saw either of them.   I've always been a heavy sleeper so I wasn't even the least bit surprised when I slept through 3 alarms and missed class completely.  I felt a little bad but got up and attempted to get a new phone.  It's not like I have many friends here but losing my phone and number was upsetting.  Mainly because I would lose 2 of the 3 men I am dating.  I really only cared about one:  Beni.  I knew the Barrister would get a hold of me since he has every contact for me possible, but Beni had nothing but my number.  I couldn't care less about losing the Jamaican, he's hot and all but 2 men is enough for now.

Thank god, I'm a mess and never throw anything away!  I still had Beni's number written on that sheet of paper from the bar in a pile of crap on my floor.  I texted him only to get a call back right away.  He asked me to meet him for drinks in Leicester Square where he was out with a friend.  Everything in my mind told me not to go, I had homework, I was tired, and I made tentative plans with the Barrister and Lawrence.  Since I met Beni, I've thought about him a lot, mainly about how much I wanted him, so I knew I couldn't resist.   I told Lawrence what was up and like only he would, he told me to go get some.   The Barrister was harder, I told some white lies and he reacted like anyone would, upset.  I still feel bad, I knew it was the wrong thing to do but I also knew I would do what I wanted anyway and make it up later, complete personality flaw! 

Beni met me at the station with a kiss and hug.  He makes my stomach jump...in a good way.  Beni, his friend, and I headed to a bar and grabbed a drink.  His friend and I chatted while Beni sat there with his hand on my knee, quiet.  His friend is whipped so despite it being his birthday, his wife implemented a curfew, we said goodbye and headed to another bar.  It was a lounge/club, I grabbed a table in the corner while he got drinks.  I asked why he was so quiet, I felt like I knew nothing about him.  He's the quiet mysterious type but I'm nosey and feel the need to know everything immediately.  He told me to be patient, in a few weeks we would know everything about each other.  Doubtful but I understand what he means.  We kissed, the sexual tension was overwhelming, I wanted nothing more than to take him home with me.  As much as I wanted to, I couldn't...I can't lie and say this was by choice, if I had my choice I would have.  The more drinks we got, the closer we got.  Apparently London is a hot bed for Albanians, he knew the bartender and 3 others that were on the dancefloor.  We danced a little and hung out with his friends before moving to another lounge.  I watched the chances of me getting a tube home fly out the window but at that point I didn't want to leave his side, it was going to be a cab night.

We found a couch in the corner of the lounge, it was dark and empty, perfect for some snogging.  We were the only people in the room but there could have been thousands and we wouldn't have noticed.  Innocent making out turned intense, with one hand on my lower back and the other running up and down my leg, he asked me to go home with him.  I hate being a woman sometimes....  As people walked back into the room we stopped kissing and stared at each other until they left.  He gently but firmly grabbed my ass and pulled me into him, kissing my neck.  We couldn't seem to keep our hands off of each other so we decided to leave before things got too out of control, that and I don't think we could be around each other any longer without tearing each others clothes off.

He flagged a cab and held my hand until we reached my flat.  Before getting out, he asked if he could cook dinner for me on friday night.  Score!  Another man who wants to cook for me, I am a very lucky girl! 

Snogs 5, 6, 7: The Irishmen!

I am cheating by combining my 4 days in Ireland into one blog but it would take way to long to explain everyday and lets be honest its not exactly my most memorable trip.   No offense to the Irish culture, in fact it's a testiment to them! I don't remember it because it's the land of Guiness (which I adore) filled with hot men who speak with panty dropping accents!   Since it's my 2nd time in Ireland, I was well aware that I would drink more than I should and view amazing castles with an overwhelming hangover! From what I remember and the photos, I know for certain I had an amazing time!

Thursday Feb. 25:

I can't sleep the night before a plane ride, I love the excitement that only boarding a plane to another country can bring.  This trip was no different, I was picked up at 4:30am with only an hour of sleep, counting down the hours until my first pint and my first snog.  My first trip to the island last year brought no snogs, well it did but they were Brits (perhaps a factor in picking my new home).  I noticed that my passport served no purpose, they didn't even look, in fact I smuggled in a can of airosal hairspray, either I don't look like a terrorist or the security is worthless.  45minutes later, we were in Ireland.  We checked into our humble hostel.  I've never done a hostel, but when I saw no blankets I couldn't help believe that I was overcharged (15 pounds a night).  Afterall it is winter here!  We booked a 12 person room, we were the only ones checked in.  Since it was only 10am, we walked the city(saw St. Patrick's, Christ Church, Guiness Factory).  Dublin is not the best representation of Ireland, or at least the images anyone has of Ireland...but we walked it all the same.  By 7pm we were at the bar, many bars in fact.  They all blurred together.  Here's what I know:  It was fucking expensive, especially considering we did shots, lots of shots.  How we dropped 100 Euro each I will never know because I didn't buy all my drinks, neither did my friend.  The famous Temple bar brought snog #5 the hickey giver.  I don't know how it happened, I was surrounded by 4 hotties, my friend was talking to a couple of others, next thing I know a guy kisses me, then my neck.  Since I'm not in middle school, I stopped him after 5 seconds, 3 seconds too late.  I had a hickey (I didn't discover this till the next morning) The Irish loved us and we loved them, especially when they were singing Irish tunes.  We danced, we made friends, we drank too much, so much so I wasn't allowed in the nightclub.  According to the bouncer "I had trouble written all over my face".  I stuffed my face with chicken nuggets and attempted again, this time making a deal with the bouncers promising my drunk eating would prevent me from starting any trouble.  The nightclub brought snog #6.  He was hot, tall, dark hair, blue eyes.....around 4 we all left. His friend was kicking game to Ashley and I didn't make it two blocks before kissing the hot Irishman.  This went on for blocks until I said goodbye.  I woke up at 6 am to Ashley telling me to get up. Drunk, confused, and freezing she bought the last blanket the hostel had (yup blankets are not a necessity at Browns hostel) so we shared a twin bed and huddled together to keep warm.

Friday Feb.  26

Drinking through Ireland is fun but you have to see some shit while you are there too.  We decided to book a trip outside of the city to the Wicklow Mountains, Kilkenny city and castle, and some other historical sites.  Hungover, we managed the rain, passed out on the bus, only to wake up to pouring rain and the woods.  There was an incrediably old cemetary and ruins.  As beautiful as it was, we couldn't shake the night before or the rain.  After wondering the woods, we boarded the bus and headed up the mountains.  Think Braveheart & PS I love you, they were filmed on the Wicklow Mountains.  It is the highest point in the region, 10 minutes in the altitude changed the rain to heavy snow.  We stopped to take photos and take in the breathtaking view.  Unfortunately it was the kind of snow and cold that makes your bones ache so we only lasted 10 minutes in it.  Our next stop was an old burial ground/tomb, really remarkable considering it has lasted thousands of years.  Finally we headed to Kilkenny, a small town with a castle.  I love castles, any girl that grew up to Disney movies can't help but imagining a life in tower of one.  Even at 25, I fantasized about my tiara and my castle.  The town was so cute, it was small and the kind that you think of when you think of Ireland.  We got back feeling a sense of accomplishment considering the amount we drank the night before.  Doubtful we could handle a repeat, we got ready and attempted to do it again.  We started at a bar we went to the night before (we made buddies with a bunch of bartenders there) and struggled through our first beers.  After the first 2, it tasted like water which is why we decided to stop in every pub we saw.  There are alot of pubs, we only made it to 6.  Like the night before, we made friends immediately after opening our mouths, American women do well in Ireland.  By bar 5, we each had our sights on our potential snogs.  Mine a cute kid with blue eyes and a buzz cut, we talked, danced, and minutes before the bar closed, kissed.  We exchanged numbers in the hopes of seeing each other again when he visited London.   On our way out, we made friends with a group of Irishmen in town for the weekend.  Not fully ready to go home (even though we should have been ready) we hopped in cabs with them and went to a wine bar/club.  Ashley fell before we even reached the bar, to her credit she recovered well but the girl she took with her didn't.  The guys bought us a bottle of wine, I drank a couple of glasses before Ashley urged me out the door.  We waved to our new friends and bounced.

Saturday Feb. 27
We woek up more hungover than the day before.  I fought the urge to puke and headed to the bus station to board a 4 hour bus to Cork.  I thought I would die and swore I wouldn't drink ever again.  Cork is smaller, cleaner, and more beautiful than Dublin.  We were committed to an easy night until we watched rugby, Ireland vs. England.  It was like walking into a movie, the Irish acted like belligerant asses, yelling at every play, chugging at every goal, and jumping wildly when a Brit was taken down.  We were convinced to drink one more night and give it up for a week when we got home.  That night we walked into a bar, for a split second we suspected it was a gay bar.  2 Americans with 40 Irishmen=heaven!  Especially when they are all on stag parties (Bachelor parties), we were the belles of the ball, with spiked punch of course!  This night is the least memorable, I remember dancing & being kissed on the cheek by a guy who had a girlfriend ( I found this out much later) and getting an offer for a threesome.  We made it to two bars and went home around 3 or 4. 

Sunday Feb 28
I woke up to my cell phone stolen, this is why I can't have nice things, I break/lose/leave/mistreat everything! With very few cultural outings in Ireland thus far, we were on a mission to kiss the Blarney stone.  You have to do it if you are there, I realize this but that shit is scary.  My idea of a good time is not laying on my back, arching backwards into an open space, having an old man lower me down by my hips, and kissing a stone.  But it's the Blarney stone, I now have the gift of eloquence.  Glad I did it but you couldn't pay me to climb those stairs to the top of the castle again.  We rushed back to catch our bus, 4 hours later we were in Dublin, only to catch an hour bus to the airport, wait for 2 hours for our flight, take an hour flight and an hour tube ride to get back home.

As the plane took the runway, I realized for the first time, that this is my new home.  Not because of comfort necessarily, because I was not boarding a flight to Philly and this will be my home destination for a very long time!  It could not have felt anymore weird, it made me disoriented and homesick.

Overall it was an amazing weekend, I was nervous traveling with someone that I have known only for a week or two but we got along so well.  I think we are more alike that we realized.