Saturday, October 1, 2011

Mixed signals, the trouble with Florian or patience is not my virtue.


About 6 weeks ago, feeling fabulous and flirty after an awesome day cruise to St Michaels, MD and dressed in the prettiest, girliest fuschia birthday dress that hugged my ‘girls’ sublimely and earned me beaucoup compliments, I took a sexy new pic of me and posted it on my online dating profile. This summer that website became my portal to online dating as I refused to fork over dime to (not) meet someone. In my little slice of PA, when I’ve chosen to peruse online dating sites, I generally get one of 2 results…total silence or guys reminiscent of rednecks (trying to be nice here) who are just curious to bang a black chick. I’m not profiling that’s just been my experience. I stopped being curious a very long time ago. To broaden the spectrum of men I might genuinely be interested in and they me, I listed myself as a Baltimore resident. I'm a native and Lord knows I spend enough time there on a weekly basis to have dual citizenship. A Baltimore zipcode is accessible clear thru DC &VA easily leading to all manner of wonderfully diverse and interesting people.

Anyway, I got a message from a man who mentioned that the word "Wanderlust" I'd used in my profile name sounded German (it actually is but I didn't know it at the time) so I asked him if he spoke German, in German by googling it since I've never taken a formal class in it.  In fact, I've only listened to some language cd's prior to my travel to Germany in 2004. It's amazing what you can pretend to know thanks to the 'net. He answered "Yes", asked me a question in German and the next thing you know I was chatting with this guy. He said he lives a teeny bit further south than MD. is single, 40ish, tall, pleasant enough looking with a full head of hair - that is unfortunately no longer a given after 40.  A dozen years ago, he came over form his native from Vienna. (I spent a whopping 40 minutes there in 1995 changing planes enroute from Cairo to NYC) The coincidental thing is that for more than a year, I have been tuned in almost exclusively to several German language chill/lounge music stations via itunes as well as regularly listening to the Deutsche Welle news radio program for a perspective other than CNN or MSNBC for world news.  I just stumbled on the music in which the Europeans have excelled imho, the habit took hold and the next thing you know I'm butchering German jingles between songs - I'm quirky like that.  So we'd chatted for close to two hours the first night. When quizzed for a "how would you impress me date idea" his was... drumroll please...the Cheesecake Factory.  Well, I immediately shot that one down - been there many times and the menu alone while delicious is exhausting.  Then he said the Library of Congress.  Now I know that seems nerdy (and possibly even cheap since the LOC is free) but I thought it a most unique and thoughtful answer as any idiot can and has taken me to dinner/lunch/coffee and attempted to kiss or fondle me by the end - usually. This guy was aiming far, far north of that prime real estate - very cerebral and for me exceptionally sexy. Anyway, the reason I find a date at LOC so cerebral and sexy is because I LOVE books. These days, I listen to far more of them than I actually read but make no mistake I am a bibliophile and I birthed one as well. I truly believe, and have for decades, that it is a grave sin to throw away or burn them. I choose always to donate them. For centuries women and black people have been denied the gift of literacy so I do not take it lightly. We ended our chat without a firm date, just a brief discussion of meeting for coffee one day when he's next in my vicinity (you know my home in Baltimore) for work, which happens frequently he said. 

Three days later my family was gathered at the hospital for my felled father and the entire East Coast experienced a 5.6 intensity earthquake. I got a sweet little note from him, asking if I made it okay in the earthquake. His well being had never crossed my mind - it being preoccupied with praying for a misdiagnosis of my Dad so he'd wake up. For the next 5 weeks I got messages from him regularly every few days or so asking how I was and saying something flirty, often in German. Even now I’ve still not told him of my Dad’s passing, but once I did mention that I’d had a surreal past two weeks and could use the “benign distraction” of our previous proposed coffee meeting– he agreed to try for the following week as it was already Wed by then. The next week came and went, neither of us mentioned it again. To be honest over the past 5 weeks I have been nearly run ragged trekking back & forth to B'more to help my Mom finalize my Dad's affairs, running the concessions and organizing away game snacks for my daughter's field hockey team, half ass studying for the Foreign Service test and training for the half marathon. I  didn't truly stop to think about us meeting because I didn't have time anyway. His messages continued and I translated the German parts via Google, Babel or both not in an attempt to be deceitful but because I enjoy seeing if he understands what I'm trying to say. I have always loved learning foreign languages. I did tell him recently that I didn't actually speak German but that I am a very resourceful woman. We both seem to be understanding one another at least literally. Usually I call him Liebling which I think is the coolest sounding word, it means darling. He always has some endearing term for me, usually Schatzi which is another word for darling or treasure - at least that's what Google says ;)

It was nice and reassuring to have someone outside my usual circle ask about my day and well being. Perhaps due to my Dad's absence, I craved the male attention. Heck who minds be called Schatzi regularly, there are definitely worst things.  Every time I'd get a message from someone new on POF, I have to go into to my account to see it so last week we both happened to be online at the same time.  Besides him (and the butt grabber from earlier this summer) I've not gotten too many men who seem to be able to complete a sentence past referencing how sexy, stunning or wow I am.  There's good stuff in my profile and if guys would read it in addition to viewing the pics of me and my Tig Ole Bitties, it would be nice.  Heck the Bitties are covered up anyway and everybody's got 'em! So where was I - oh, yeah we chatted again for a short time and finally exchanged email addresses. And now 9 days later, I’ve gotten about 8 messages from him. I even teased him just two nights ago about being "afraid" to meet me. I thought I was calling him out when I politely referred to his reticence - he got distracted by the word and was reaching for the damn dictionary instead of focusing on what I was trying to say.  Anyway, I figured my forwardness would make him beat a hasty retreat or step up.  I really expected to not hear from him again, the flight factor being an instinctual masculine trait when a woman asks for something you may not wanna give especially if she's a tad irritated when she asks. Instead, he commented agreeing to my awesomeness (my word) and bade me good night. The next evening sure enough there's was a message asking if I was okay from previous evening. Incidently, I was wearing red panties that my current spiritual guru, Iyanla VanSant, had instructed someone to wear when speaking to a gentleman caller, I told him that if he was going to continue to contact me he needs move this process along.  BTW - I'd ordered the panties from ebay - quit with the yucks they still had the tags on them, had just been washed, dried and  I was trying them on before I even knew there was a message. Just wanna make it clear I didn't chnage my panties in order to read/answer the message.  Then I embedded a link to the Bent/Billie Holiday song "Speak Low" since on more than one occasion he's sent me links to songs. It’s funny, I sent him the song because I love the accompanying melody but having just googled the lyrics they can certainly be taken as a fairly accurate representation of what is or actually is not going on with us.

The whole reason I’m writing this is so I can get it out of my head and reflect on the situation.  I am admittedly a little frustrated or maybe disappointed is more accurate by his lack of interest in meeting me now. Did some other buxom brown girl get to him first, Schei├če!  (That's German for poop.) She could not have been hotter than me - not that day, no freakin' way. Or may be I am more cerebral and less sexy than I think I am. Oh well, once again a Euro late and a Euro short - damn.   I realize that I am likely having an infatuation that won’t amount to much more than emails (despite the red panties) because I didn't follow my own cardinal rule...Meet as soon as humanly possible if you have an inkling of interest. Online you can be at a distinct disadvantage when introducing yourself to someone. Not so much for chemistry as I think far too much emphasis is placed on immediate sparks flying. Most of my best relationships have been with people (girls and guys) that I was not immediately crazy about. But you risk fantasizing or infatuating with protracted emails and conversations about someone that may not be true.  I say, meet them early - see if they even remotely look like the person listed on their profile (I hear there's lots of deception using old photos), if his accent and breath is bearable or if they smell of eau de crazy. Actually I really didn't have time to meet him. Between coping with the loss of my Dad and being without a job this is a less than ideal time for me to think about dating.

For the last few years, especially, I seem to just be unsuccessful with the men I've attracted, never understanding the root cause. I have no idea what's goin' on but something certainly is, may be as simple as bad timing. I just hope I figure it out before I get too old and curmudgeonly. Or maybe men are just idiots, I'm the poster child for follow your own rules and my life is part soap opera. Will I hear from him again - I can't say for sure but based on previous patterns, the likelihood is good. Rest assured though, I'll only be blogging about it if the “Trouble with Florian” becomes more like “A Whole Lotta Fun with Florian" instead.


Speak low when you speak, love
Our summer day withers away too soon, too soon
Speak low when you speak, love
Our moment is swift, like ships adrift, we're swept apart, too soon

Speak low, darling, speak low
Love is a spark, lost in the dark too soon, too soon

I feel wherever I go
That tomorrow is near, tomorrow is here and always too soon

Time is so old and love so brief
Love is pure gold and time a thief

We're late, darling, we're late
The curtain descends, everything ends too soon, too soon
I wait, darling, I wait
Will you speak low to me, speak love to me and soon

Time is so old and love so brief
Love is pure gold and time a thief

We're late, darling, we're late
The curtain descends, everything ends too soon, too soon
I wait, darling, I wait
Will you speak low to me, speak love to me and soon
Speak low


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