Up Too Late: An Endless Search for Mr.Right & Other Important Things in Life: November 2006

Tennis Club - Serving water in coffee cups & Romanian Dance Music

Monday, November 27, 2006

This morning, I thought I brewed coffee, but I forgot to put it in the filter.

As a result, I showed up at the players' table with a pitcher full of hot water. One of them complained, saying I had "plenty of time" to prepare coffee and that there is no reason I shouldn't...

I told him it wasn't a matter of time, but rather matter of a simple, honest mistake. He didn't look too pleased but answered that we all make mistakes and that he understood. it sounded so unnatural, it was almost like he said it because it was polite.

It spoiled my mood, though, and I felt bad for appearing careless...I spent 15 minutes brewing it before, but since you can't see the inside of the pitcher, you can't tell what's in it. So, I ended up with a pitcher of coffee-flavoured hot water.

I'm not careless. Why does it always appear that way? I know people who don't know me will assume "duh, because you are"...but I really am not and those who know more about me will understand.

I imagine myself as the male version of a Bridget Jones - esque person who makes silly mistakes that everyone takes seriously. I wish I wasn't, though.

I wish I was someone who didn't have to deal with moral, ethical, emotional choices. At times, I wish I was one of those square-headed people who are perfect with routine and know how to seem caring when worrying about someone else is the least of their worries.

Then, I wish I was Liviu Guta, a Romanian singer whose song struck a cord with me last night. A friend sent me the YouTube link to a video from a show. The song, dance in genre and sung in Romanian (I don't speak it, ifn case you're wondering), is pretty "Dragostea Din Te" in taste, but a bit better.

In the video [link below], he sings with Daniela, another Romanian singer popular in her homeland. Judging from a few videos I've seen, I declare him gay...for no particular reason, but rather only because I think he's cute, though my gaydar is also showing satisfactory results.

I need to Google his name to find out the rumours...Anyone out there speak Romanian?

Liviu Guta & Daniela - De Ce Ma Minti? (Why do you lie to me?)

New York Times 100 Notable Books of the Year

Saturday, November 25, 2006

The NY Times 100 Notable Books of the Year List is out. Go and check it out here (Thanks for the link, Gina!)

...it would be a good challenge to read all of these books in a year, in the alphabetical order...oh, the fun :)

New encounter... Day One

I met a Haitian-born librarian who is pretty attractive and smart.

He's also happy and smily all the time,so that's a big plus.

I don't know how this will go, but for now, I like it.I like it when cute men smile at me...somehow, it is contagious :)

My crushes

You know how you sometimes tend to come across guys you have a big crush on (physically, anyway), but don't know if they're into you (meaning, if they're into guys)?

Well, if you don't, then look around. Every day, thousands of guys surround you and out of them, you may find one or two you find you may like.

Every week, aside from the daily subway looks I give and get, I tend to see two men whom I'd really like to go on a date with.

GUY #1 - Techie nerd who looks like a GQ cover-guy: He's cute, in his mid-20s, smart-looking but has this gay feel to him, which makes him so dateable. He's my height, broader shoulders than mine, dark, spiky hair. He gives me looks every time I go to the French language lab. Every time I DO go to the lab, he takes his bag lunch and leaves his office just as I come into the lab (attached to his office). I don't know if that's a hint for me to follow him or a clue that he's not into me...Oh, men, they make things so difficult sometimes.

GUY#2 - Middle Eastern Wonder Man: He's tall, a bit overweight in the sense that he doesn't work out..So, probably 6'1 / 2,10 meters, about 200lbs / 93 kgs. He's doing his PhD thesis in engineering (I was too distracted to remember which kind) and is almost done, in his late 20s. Sadly, I have a feeling he is not into guys, but he's still great to look at. I don't know where in Middle East he comes from. He has small, rare curls in his hair. One thing I like about him: He has a slight lisp when he speaks French. it's the cutest thing.

Advil and Chocolate candy

Friday, November 24, 2006

I took some Advil pills from work, in case I ever had a headache and needed one or two pills.

I put them in my man-purse inside pocket and forgot all about them.

Last week, I checked and noticed there were little M&M-size pills in my bag, and remembering I had once been given M & M candy from a pharmaceutical company rep, I thought these were chocolate candy...Alas, they weren't...and they tasted pretty bad...

I learned a lesson: NEVER confuse Advils for an M&M... Always check what you put in your mouth before you do it.

Technorati Tags: M & M, Advil, funny, joke, silly

English for Foreigners - Job # 3

Thursday, November 23, 2006

I applied to work at the university as a part-time language monitor for English students. I had my interview and the same day, was asked to provide my schedule. I'm hired... this is good..More money to pay off credit cards :)

My summer 2006, Part 3 - Toronto, Canada

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

August 13 - August 18, 2006: Toronto, the city of AIDS 2006

As a responsible young man, I was tempted by the AIDS 2006 conference. So as a member of an awareness-raising organization, I applied to go and got accepted to the conference. Wee...From Berlin, I came to Toronto, for only the second time in my life (my first time was when I moved to Canada not so long ago).

Overall thoughts on the conference: Well-organized, seeing as there were close to 30.000 participants. Individual sessions: there were very few of interest to people like me who wish to bring HIV/AIDS to the minds of people who don't want to think of anything that could happen to them. Hearing the two Bills (Clinton and Gates) was inspiring, but it didn't add much to my personal inspiration. I am incredibly grateful, though, to the fact that these two men exist and continue to do their part in the world, donating money and any other means, making their names unforgettable to millions of people in need.

Many people I tell about the two men say they do it for fame. So what? If they can actually help millions of hungry, sick and dying people, it doesn't matter whether they want fame or not. What matters is that they are out there contributing their part. I sound so cliche, but it's true.

Back to the conference...Social aspect of AIDS 2006: Amazing (have you noticed I overuse this word?)...I met many new friends that I meet and still keep in touch with. I also met a British doctor whom I can safely say I fell in love with.

So, seeing as the state of AIDS and other important matters are not as relevant as my intimate life, I should talk about the doctor, who, physically was my height, well-built, with salt and pepper hair and blue eyes. Most importantly, he was from London, my dream city, and secondly, he was well-mannered (SUCH a turn-on). I met him while i was trying to decode the vast number of sessions that were on on the first day of the conference. So we whispered while the welcome comments of the second daily plenary session were being given. He had come to a number of international AIDS conferences, so this had become a routine for him. I usually don't get the hint from someone when I talk with them for the first time, so i didn't really think about him being into me.

I saw him the same day, while I was browsing some info. booths. He looked pretty happy to see me, so I started to suspect. We chatted a bit, but I had decided to do something useful on this day, so I went to a session on the connection between AIDS and violence against women. I didn't regret it, just that I thought about him quite a bit. Odd...

The next day, I met him in the same seat, out of the thousands there were in the big room. We chatted for a bit, then he had to go, so I thought, he probably isn't into me. The rest of the day was spent in sessions, which were, though overwhelming, quite informative...It got my brain moving to different directions. It was a good exercise for it.

On the Wednesday, I saw him chatting with someone in the same place where we had sat, but I sat two rows up, and since he never came to say hi, I gave it all up.

On the Thursday morning, I sat in the same spot I sat in the day before. He came by, said hi, sat down and said he had to go, but said he was wondering if I had plans that night. I said I was going out with friends (which I was), but that I could meet him in the bar we all went to, if he wished. He said he didn't know, that he would not know where HIS crowd would go, but that if they came my way, he would look out for me.

My crowd was early and I was late. One of my organization team members was a guy in his mid-twenties who was extremely bothersome, staying in the room next to mine. He was in his mid-twenties, from Quebec, spoke little English, which was great because I got to practice, but everything else went downhill from there. He became my stalker, so every time he would hear me open the room door, he'd come out and ask me where I was going. This happened on the Thursday night, as well. I told him I had to meet some friends, and unexpectedly, as I rushed to the elevator, I was suddenly being followed. He ran, too, but was a bit late, as I pressed the "Close" button on the elevator. Besides, he was overweight and couldn't run.

I made my way to the bar only to find Ian there with a friend of his. It was pretty clear he was gay (this was a gay bar). He told me they had gotten there around 10:30. It was 12 now...His friend, as if told, left us immediately. So we chatted...until 3 am. Then he had to go to bed. And before he said that, he said the evening could end two ways...I knew what he meant by it, but I have never before gone on a date (this was a "sort of" a date) and ended up in someone's bed the same day, so I said "thanks, but no, thanks" And it seemed like he was ok with it... I did give him a good night kiss... He invited me out for lunch before he left Toronto the next day.

I met him at his hotel, so we walked to the restaurant he knew...We chatted extensively (him more than me), and it seemed at times like I was giving too much information when talking, but I didn't care. I met this guy once and I will probably never see him again. We talked until 3 pm (we met at 11am) and then he had to go get his bus. So I helped him get his luggage in his room...and gave him a French kiss. I liked him :)

The rest is nothing..He promised he would write me, I couldn't wait, so I wrote him, he wrote me back...then i wrote again, and didn't hear back until a month later. I wasn't enthused about his e-mail, which really, wasn't an off-turning e-mail in any way, but wasn't an e-mail you would send someone you were into either. So that was that. The end of my four-day Toronto romance.... Next, I went home for a week, only to return to Montreal for the year. Summer,too was drawing to an end...

Image+Nation Film Festival = Lots of images of men

Monday, November 20, 2006

I volunteered to help out at this year's Image+Nation International LGBT Film Festival, which is showing close to 90 films from around the world in ten days. The festival held in Montreal is a big event, sadly not so well-advertised.

The reason i decided to volunteer was partly because I wanted to meet new friends but also because I wanted to see some free films. The advantage of being a volunteer is that I get to see quite a few good movies.

Two I would recommend anyone to see are "Gas", an italian suspense thriller, and "A Summer Day", a french drama.

I met Taylor, a gay guy who is pretty smart (speaks three languages, of which his knowledge of Chinese Mandarin is amazing). He is also obsessed with the way he looks, something which I have noticed on a number of occasions. He loves to look at the mirror for hours (literally...from the beginning to the end of a screening, all he did was stroke his hair and look at himself)He has long hair that he adores and loves to stroke left and right all the time.

During one of the movie show times, I saw him writing. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was writing boy and girl names, in case he ever has children. He said they were mostly androgynous names, but he didn't know why he chose them.

I also met Alfredo, a guy who seemed quite friendly and kind. He donated to the festival and bought tickets to all movies and on the side, flirted with guys his age, like moi. He has a great smile :)

My summer 2006, Part 2 - Berlin

Friday, November 17, 2006

July 22 - August 12, 2006 : Berlin, the city of the Queen of Borussia.

Ok, so I left Flensburg on the 22nd to find my way to Berlin. Peggy drove me to Hamburg, which took two hours, from where I took the train to Berlin, which also took two hours (this sentence is grammatically wrong, but I can't correct myself right now).

On our way to Hamburg, we listened to sad Turkish music, while Peggy's friend "Sadiye" [i forgot her real name, so here's a fake one] took out the anger she felt about her roommate, who secretly used Sadiye's good credit to get a three-year contract on a top-of-the-line cell phone. Sadiye being a hot-blooded Turkish woman was questioning whether she should go directly to police and report her, or whether she should call cell phone plan people and tell them this crazy roomie had forged her signature and her information.

Peggy and I suggested she first find a new appartment, then she have a talk with the woman, tell her that she either A-cancel the contract or B-pay Sadiye all of the money in advance, since the bill will be coming in Sadiye's name, and the roomie is moving in a month's time. They continued on talking about this, but I just wasn't in the mood for it anymore...blah, drama. I was sad I was leaving Peggy...I would not see her again for

So, I got to the great big city of Berlin, after being on second class train, which was super hot (meaning "not sexy" and very warm). The air conditioning wasn't working on the first class train section I was in (yeah, so lucky...), so they moved us to first class (yay, so lucky!).

Upon getting to Berlin, I looked at the list of the "how to get there" instructions for my hostel, so I came to the bus stop, waited for the right bus, and, after loading up my heavy luggage (my sister bought me a new luggage-piece worth bunch of stuff...a "grrr" and "wee :) " feeling at the same time), decided the smart thing to do would be to ask the driver to tell me where to go. this was NOT a smart thing to do. He gave me directions for a street that was totally on the other side of town! So I listened to his instructions and wandered around Berlin for about 3,5 hours...When I arrived to the first wrong direction, I came to the street with the exact same name as my hostel and the same number as well. I thought I'd read it correctly, but decided to check nevertheless. I had read that the building was a seniors' complex. So I went in and asked the woman if this was the youth hostel I was looking for. Logically, she answered "No, this is a seniors complex" while she responded to an older woman who asked for toilet paper.

I was so exhausted at this point, I would have killed for someone to take my luggage. Unfortunately, in my case, or fortunately for most tourists in town, Berlin is a safe city and though I was in one of the poorer and "more" dangerous areas of town (every part of town anywhere where there are immigrants, it suddenly gains a reputation for being "dangerous"...this would be an interesting sociology paper...who decides these areas are dangerous?). So, after getting to my REAL hostel (you can't imagine how happy I was to be greeted by a young, blond, muscular and cute receptionist who said "Willkommen! Sind Sie hier fuer den Kurs?" I could have kissed him right there and then (speaking of which, I am starting to notice that I could have kissed most men I have met...Am I addicted to men?)

Ok, drama does not end here. I tell him "Ja, I AM here for the course." After asking me for my name and checking here and there, the blond, blue-eyed philosophy student (as I found out later) refused me entry into the youth quarters, saying I was booked to get here three days later. So, in the meantime, he said I would have to stay in a hotel-style hostel that once was a Catholic retreat home. I didn't care anymore. I got to the three floor house and realized there were five other roommates...great...after the Montreal experience, I didn't care much for roomies. But these guys would turn out to be great. The total of the five guys was made up of:

3 Brits, one of whom happened to want to be a theatre writer and lived in a town not so far from London...I believe it was Brighton;

1 American who did not like the Republican government in US (he became one of my roommates in the student hostel)

1 French guy who studied philosophy and liked German philosophers (also one of my roommates in the student hostel)

We got along great. I learned about the new happening Coldplay-esque bands in the UK, learned about the Sorbonne (which I kinda like...I have to admit :) ), and learned that in some states in the US, one does not become an adult until one is 21.

And Berlin? It was fun...I liked it, mostly because I met so many people and got to see some amazing parts of German history. But Berlin is Berlin :)

My summer 2006, Part 1 - Flensburg, Germany

Monday, November 13, 2006

I meant to write from the first day I left Montreal (July 7th), but adventures, travels and fun time got in the way..So here I am, in November, recounting the summer stories, or at least the ones I can remember.

July 07 - July 22: I visited my sister, who lives in one of the prettiest cities of Germany, Flensburg. She lives with her family there and oddly enough, has a job working with an international humanitarian organization, even though she's in a tiny place (Flensburg has the population of ~170.000). I admire her a lot and though I have told her this, I feel I need write it again.

Peggy is someone I really look up to, perhaps not for everything, but definitely for her ideas, sense of style and personnality...oh, and her egoism is amazing. I swear, she takes care of herself better than anyone I've known, even though seeing her hard at work and with her kiddies (most of whom are in mid-teenage years and going through crises every day), one would think this woman should be committing suicide. And by committing suicide, I don't mean tomorrow, the next day, sometime soon, I mean NOW. Those kids, I tell ya, can be a handful...But she deals with them amazingly well [and sometimes not so well, but that's another story for another time].

She and I have this conflicting and maybe hypocritical way of being. We both believe in altruism, helping others and in our own ways, we try to do this. Yet, we are also very involved in our looks, meaning we think of ourselves a lot. So, often, I (and I think my sister, too) wonder if it's ok to go to Amnesty meetings while wearing a Dolce and Gabbana, or whether I can volunteer for a charity while wearing a Prada. I know, it sounds horrible and it makes me look like a stuck-up person, which I don't care about. The only thing I'm worried about is not being perceived as stuck-up by those whom I want to help. I try to do that with my personnalité, and I am pretty sure my sister uses the same system. Ok, so now that that's been cleared...

What did I [and by "I", I mean my sister's family and moi] do in the two weeks I was at my sister's? Well, I...

1-...went to a few local beaches that were popular with jellyfish...disgusting as those sea creatures felt when you touched them, they looked beautiful.

2-...tanned in those same local beaches and overheard conversations Albanian men and women had...Most of the time, it was gossip about so and so cheating on her husband, so and so losing a job, so and so being deported back to Kosovo (this was the sad story, usually, and was followed by "awwww, that's so sad. Where are the kids going to live now?"

3-...visited Hamburg a couple of times. It's a beautiful city, but it sort of felt like a bunch of city suburbs put together to creat a...city. Does that make sense? I know, it's weird.

4-...went (-ish) to Denmark, as it was only a few minutes drive. Danes come to Flensburg in thousands, doing their groceries and shopping in the city, as here, they pay less tax. They're often seen with truckfuls of German beer, crossing the border. Germans say "long live the Danes" when they count up their euros at the end of the day. :)

5-...partied with my 15- and 16- year old nieces and the 19-year old nephew in one of Flensburg's hottest teenager bars [and by "hottest", I mean, it didn't really do much for me]. I danced all night with Nina, my niece and protected her from German bullies who kept doing the eye candy thing. I felt good I was with her and they couldn't do much, but what happens when I'm not there? I wish there was a thing I could do, but as a typical, worrying uncle, I think I'd cause anger if I did do anything.

6-...shopped around with ma sista and got a brand new pair of Birkenstocks, which she was shocked at seeing for the first time. Her exact words were the following: "What?? You're going to buy a pair of Birkenstocks?? I thought they were only made for doctors, nurses and people with foot problems." A few minutes later, upon seeing them "THESE are Birkenstocks??? Wow, they're nice...but not quite my thing (her thing = a Ferragamo or a Hermes)." So, happy with that, we followed to an Armani store, where things didn't seem to be so expensive, compared to Gucci / Versace, etc.

7-...visited an ancient cemetery on my own. Peggy had lots of work to catch up on (she took some time off work so we could hang out), so I said I wanted to visit a cemetery and take some pictures. She dropped me off and drove on. Bad idea. A guy who noticed I wasn't from there started following me around. I have two theories as to who he was: A-some guy wanting to rip me off, or B-a guy looking to hook up. Either way, I wasn't up for getting my camera, ipod, wallet with VISA cards and money stolen and I definitely wasn't up for having sex with some guy who meets random people AT A CEMETERY. It may be hot for a Goth, but not for me. I'm not into the scene. So I hurried out of the place, found a busy street and went shopping. Once again, I was saved by the marvels of commercialism.

8-...spent time with my nieces. It was so so great to have a few girly-ish nights with my two nieces, one of whom is planning on being a teacher (awwww...) and the other, well, I think she will be a gangsta girl. So, I got introduced to Eva's (teacher) inspiration. The girl would totally make an amazing hag. She is into Marlene Dietrich, Dinah Washington, Marilyn Monroe, all the actors of the 30s, 40s, 50s...I was amazed at seeing her movie and book collection. That being said, I think she's also a spoiled brat. My sister favours her over my other niece because "she at least knows what she wants to do with her life." That and she works at a call centre, something Nina does not like to do. She prefers sucking money off her Albanian/Montenegrin boyfriend, whom I also met. She treats him like dirt, but he puts up with it. I love the fact that she can be that way, confrontational, I mean, and not regret it one bit.

9-...spent time with my nephews. One of my nephews is 11 and he's already 5'10, has a foot size 13 and at school, is known as "the defender of the bullied." That being said, Denis sucks in school. He doesn't study as hard as he could and when I say that, I am not biased. He is a very intelligent kid who just doesn't want to study.

My other nephew is 19 year-old Uwe, who is similarly intelligent, but too lazy to study, meaning school is not for him. Until recently, for almost a year, he lived in a hotel suite in Hamburg, spending a lot of time online in the nighttime, playing poker online, and sleeping off most of the morning. I have to say, he's the first person I have met who hasn't had one loss, ever since he started playing for money. By the way, he gave me pocket money. Isn't that amazing? Kinda embarrassing, since I should be the one giving pocket money, but very kind nevertheless...Guess how much he gave me? 400 euros, so I could go visit friends and family in Kosovo...I was stunned and so inspired and humbled at the same time. I love it when my family shows signs of generosity.

10-...was a spectator in a court process for a Kosovar man accused of beating up a German guy. The lawyer defending the man was so hot (in a geeky way), I can still remember him. Sadly, he didn't really do much for the guy. so, what happened? There was a bar brawl, and supposedly, according to a German woman who seems to have seen and heard this firsthand, the Kosovar guy, along with a bunch of other guys, decided to beat up the victim, the German man. A Russian woman who saw it all happen said no such thing took place. Nevertheless, the judge sentenced the young man to two years of probation (the lawyer asked for six months) and payments of 500 euros every month to the victim for two years. Talk about German justice. We now know whose words are considered more important..

The reason I saw the whole sentencing process was that Peggy was invited to be the interpreter in any cases of misunderstanding (like when the judge asked the man "do you work anywhere?" and the man enthusiastically and proudly exclaimed "Yes, at the local McDonald's" and the judge asked Peggy to clarify where he worked because he couldn't understand where the excitement came from)

Laughing at tennis: Job #2

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

In mid-September I started working at a private tennis club.

The members are mostly former politicians and businessmen millionaires who bounce balls on weekends. They're pretty good players.

I get to laugh quite a bit at work, mainly sometimes because of my stupidities and sometimes because I just need a laugh.

LAUGH #1:Part of my job is to prepare morning coffee for guests. My first week at work, I prepared the coffee on the machine and left it in there to keep warm. I then took out the jug and left it in the players' room for them to drink. Two minutes later, I hear the players talking: "Hmmm, there doesn't seem to be any coffee in this." Having heard it, I rush into the room and when I pour what I think will be coffee out of the pitcher, it is warm water instead...I forgot to put coffee in the filter.

LAUGH#2:One of the players, in his late seventies came and in a whispering tone of voice, asked me to leave a note for other staff to check if they have found a pair of jockstraps anywhere. I tell him that no, that if there was such a thing around here, we would have left them in a bag in the lost found area. he continues, but not whisperingly anymore: "well, I don't know, but someone has been stealing my jockstraps. This is my fourth pair." So, having discovered there is a jockstrap thief around the club, I left a note for my supervisor with the following message:

"Showna, Mr.Smith came by and said that he is missing four pairs of jockstraps. He would appreciate it if anyone who may be aware of any jockstraps found brought them to him.He threatened not bringing his clothes to the club anymore if this keeps up."

LAUGH#3: I looked in the contact book of the players and, though I won't use the real address here, I came across two of the players' (Don and Nina) personal website, which went along this template: http://www.donina.ca ... Do Nina?

I work 21 hours on weekends and sit at the reception desk while pretending to do something. My job interview was hilarious. I was asked if I liked sitting down and if I'm easily bored, to which I said "No, I can find amusing things to do." This was complemented by "I think you will like this job, then" and there, I had my job...

I do my homework and laundry here, and it's all part of the job (my boss at interview: "Well, you should bring books or school material because there isn't really much to do here.")

It's great :) ... I just wish the schedule was a wee bit shorter...

My job #1

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

On weekdays, I work at a secondary school, teaching English through an official languages program called "Accent" (link is here). It's for university students working on becoming bilingual. I get paid to teach my language of fluency and I stay in the francophone province to work on French. It's a great program.

Working at a secondary school, which is what they call junior high schools in Montrea, has proven to be much fun because it's been teaching me how to be tough. I don't know who I heard this from, but someone somewhere once said that "if you can make it at a school, you can make it anywhere." Time will tell if this is true because i'm definitely finding out I do not want to teach ~~secondary~~ junior high school students... University types, maybe...

The kids' personalities vary from great (they're so cute, some of them call me "Mr."...ha ha) to OK (students who sit and look at me with no expression on their faces) and horrible (students who use words like "fag", "fuck" and "bitch" with their friends on regular basis).

My supervising teacher is also great. She is going through her own troubles, including moving in a week. Overall, she is a great teacher who trained to teach in elementary (thus her lack of strictness), has long curly hair and rectangular reading glasses.

Last week, she stumbled and fell in front of her class. I almost laughed, but I didn't. Funny enough, the angry and hormonal kids didn't laugh at her. Instead, they asked if she was ok, which totally threw me off because if you knew the types of kids I work with, you'd be in just as big a shock.

It's something to do with respect and apparently, they have it...At least for some people in their lives.