Music in the Ionosphere.

God I'm exhausted. Dani and I went to this contemporary classical music gig that turned out to be a load of wank in the end with this guy making 'music' with brain waves. The last bit was rather nice though, but for the weather. There were chartered buses that took us to the dunes, where the highest point in all Holland was retrofitted with some gadgets that received static and played it back through the provided headphones. It was the music of the ionosphere being relayed through to us. I thought it was all rather lovely in the end. Being on this hill under the stars in the mist listening to static and drinking wine.

When we got back, I was just about ready to pass out when he asked me a rather peculiar question that was really a trick question, but never mind. I gave a rotten answer and all hell broke loose. We got into a fantastic argument, it was rather heated if you ask me (for my standards). We didn't manage to go to bed till well after dawn. He's really passionate. Funny, but that wasn't one of the things on my list for what I required in a lover. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I really hated how it usually made everything intense and complicated and painful. But he is, and I'm glad for it. Somehow he's managed to make me think about a great deal of stuff I never really bothered with before.

The funny thing is every time after we have one of these phenomenal break-ups (they're quite exciting, he can get quite mad, while I'm always trying very hard to not to let any of it touch me) I feel him a little more. Little might be an understatement actually. There was one point where he said he wished he could do something to get a reaction out of me before he reached out and grabbed my face. I knew he wouldn't ever hurt me, but some sick part of me secretly found it rather exciting. 


The conflict has been resolved (thank god) and things are lovely again. I don't think I could bear to lose him. He's the best thing that's come my way, he loves me so much and I can see how happy he is to be with me. Which means a lot to me. But of course.

Sand and Mist.

Shit, it's two weeks since my last post. My sense of time has been totally warped. On the one hand, time is flying by because Dani and I have been doing so much. There's something magical about the change from Winter to Spring. Um...alright, actually, there isn't. It's just warmer so going out and doing things becomes more attractive.

We had a fight of sorts a few days ago, on our way back from Amsterdam (after seeing the Gotan Project live; they're very entertaining, although sober Dutch audiences are painfully boring). I thought it was all over that night, he was so upset and angry I didn't know what to do. I don't want to talk about the reason for the fight because it's too complicated and nuanced and I'm not a post-modern philosopher, so fuck it. All I remember was thinking how I never wanted anyone to stop being angry with me more then I did then.

The next day, I couldn't get out of bed till well past noon, when he came and asked me if I wanted coffee. He told me he wasn't angry anymore, but that we couldn't be together because we were too different. I always keep hurt behind a wall of nonchalance if I feel there's no more I can do about it, and no reason to talk about it. He mentioned the attitude, and I explained it. Firstly, what could I do? Secondly, secretly I'm a little religious in my belief that things always happen for a reason. (I'm referring to things within our control, famine for example happens because shit happens.) And when life throws you lemons, the best you can do is make lemonade. Yes, I got that off a card someone once gave me for my birthday.

The weather was lovely, so we decided to go to the beach. It stayed lovely till we got to the beach, where all of a sudden a great mist descended upon the dunes, and an awful cold wind started blowing towards the sea. I thought, "How apt, the Dutch weather never fails to read my moods." Strangely enough, the sand was warm, and when I lay down in it, the wind did not touch my face.

I lay there in the sand feeling the wind brush against the tip of my nose, and it felt like I was in a cocoon of wind and mist. And in my head I was thinking about it all. Why am I here, what do I want to do, and most of all, what really mattered.


On my list, Dani is everything I've ever wanted in a guy. He's annoyingly intelligent, lovely to look at, arty, pretty experimental, responsible, neat, kind, hygienic, floppy hair, good bone structure etc. you get the idea. (Oh and the war, I've got to mention the bit about surviving one of the most tedious wars in the last decade) But until that day at the beach, I never thoroughly thought about how I really felt about him. Knowing he was what I wanted was one thing, and actually feeling it, I guess, was quite another.

I mean of course I totally had the hots for him, and I was charmed and all of that, but for some reason it was only that afternoon while I was lying in the sand in my little cocoon that I actually felt and knew he wasn't kidding when he said he was in love with me. There's knowing, and there's comprehending.

All along, since I arrived, there was always this guilt I felt while being with him. Part of me was constantly telling myself I didn't come to Europe for a romance, I came here to find a job and make a life. Then it occurred to me that maybe I got the order wrong, and that I was a fucking fool, because there are plenty of jobs out there but there's only one of him, and there's only this one moment right now that I have, for me.

I guess part of me always felt like he was a cop out on my part. Like, I was taking the easy way out by letting him take care of me. I don't deny that it's preferable to being single and alone, but then I still can't help but feel I pussied out. Then when it seemed as if we were done for good, I started to think about it all, and how, even if I'd met him in Sing, I'd probably still feel the same about him anyway.

I boiled it all down to this test I call "The One Who Got Away". You know the person you had feelings for sometime in the past and then for whatever reason never got with or broke up with, and, years later you find yourself thinking about them, and wondering "what if?" That's the test. And I thought then (or maybe I did think it before or slightly after, I don't remember) that he wasn't going to be the one who got away. 

Bologna Blues

The trip tp Bologna has gone slightly off kilter and I am to be back in Holland sooner, which I do not mind, tbh. Dani has booked me in for the Walk the Line festival and gotten tickets to the Gotan Project for next week, so really, that's where I should be. His professions of missing me seem real enough; egad... very soon I will believe them, if I don't already. The only thing I will miss about Bologna (apart from the lovely company) is the food.The Fix has been cooking non stop, and who can fault him? He even makes preparing food at 6 in the morning look fun. Especially while he was stuffing the roll of pork he swore felt like stuffing a Tenga Egg.

I forgot all about Mother's Day, and my brother's birthday to boot; but then I almost forgot mine anyway. I almost forgot to celebrate and and I did my best not to remember it, especially after that last bit of champange where my boobs fell out of my dress across a halal restaurant. But at least I wrote her an email telling her about how things are going over here. Not too bad, that's for sure. She'll be glad to hear. I wonder sometimes if my parents read my blog, maybe my father, but he seems intent on knowing as little about me as possible for fear perhaps, of being even more disappointed.

I do wish I communicated more with people I don't see that often, but it's not in my nature to bother. If they don't reply, I always feel rejected, so best keep that at bay, eh. I'm kind of mute when it comes to telling people how much I appreciate them, and I wish I wasn't.

But I'm thinking about you. You know it.

Anyone wants some fresh cheese from Tamburini's?

Madonna in Venice.

It's been lovely hanging out in Italy with the Fixer, Chris and their friends. Fix spends all his time cooking it's quite something. For some  reason, he doesn't sleep, so he cooks/prepares food all the time. He's good. I'm going to get a stake in his bistro when he opens one.

We went to Venice yesterday. It was really nice going back there, much more fun this time for me. The last time I was backpacking and kind-of alone. Minus the crazy writer guy I picked up from some random bar, man that was weird, on the second night hanging out we fucked in front of a statue of the Madonna. Gah.

I was making a sketch of some random scene in the city when Chris and co. came out of the Doge's palace. We started talking about architectural drawings, and he mentioned a friend of his called Paul Madonna who made a living out of drawing architecture. Then he showed me his website, and... you know the funny thing is, I have Paul Madonna's book, All Over Coffee, and I love his work. Anyway, Chris told me they were friends and he's got a couple of Madonna's painting in his flat, and his apartment in San Francisco was actually featured in the book. How cool is that :D

All Very Subtle.

Off to Bologna tomorrow. Oh god, what an exhausting day it's been. Must have been all the wine. I wish I didn't drink so much sometimes.  Dan and I have been talking rather openly about sex and jealousy and insanity (you know, the usual) :-P

We got into a row because I went to Amsterdam for Queen's day to visit Dev. I never planned anything, and I didn't explicitly go to A'dam to get down and dirty with a friend, but me being me (especially since I haven't been in any sort of relationship that was vaguely serious) it kinda... just happened. Part of the misunderstanding was over the difference between an open relationship and a poly-amorous one. To cut a long story short, he basically put it to me that going out on my own and just doing as I pleased with other people, regardless of gender, without considering that maybe someone that cared would get hurt by it, was not wholly fair. He does have a point.

At any rate, I told him I didn't really care about fucking other people. It's fun for me, but it's not necessary. Then I told him that sometimes, I get quite physically into other people (i.e. I like touching them) I won't say it's wholly non-sexual, but sex is not the point. It's more of a gesture to make someone else, and myself, feel appreciated. And he said that was not a problem, the actual physical act alone is not the problem; the problem only happens in a certain combination of sexual and emotional infidelity which is different for everyone (that was how I interpreted it at least).

It's all very subtle I think. Anyway I must to bed now.

In response to the comment from yesterday.

Comment from previous post:

Ha ha. You've gotta understand the man's rules for an open relationship. HE is able to sleep with anyone, ogle and chat up any of your girlfriends and his exes, either in front of you or behind your back, and he take off whenever he likes without telling you.

The girl (ie you) must only... um, "have relations" with pre-agreed characters, who MUST be dweebs of some sort or other, to avoid shattering the fragile male ego, and every situation must be discussed and assessed on it's merits.

See? With a few simple rules, it works perfectly!

Answer:

From thisisindexed.com

On a more serious note, I don't agree with the comment at all. Some assholes might be like that, but in that case, why ever propose an open relationship? Just find a scared little girl and cheat on her as you please in that case.

Apologies and plans.

Many things have happened the past weekend. Things have just been going up and down and I couldn't have blogged about it without affecting the way things paned out, so I didn't. That, and also there was no time. Queen's night and queen's day was a blast. I had a wonderful time on the streets of The Hague and Amsterdam, despite the chill I caught the next day for dancing barely dressed in the rain. Ruiter was so worried at some point he grabbed me and threw a plastic sheet over my head telling me I'd better watch out before I caught hypothermia.

Dan and I got into a big row for 24 hours after I got back because of some grievous misunderstanding, and there was this scene that seemed like something out of a tragi-comic dramady where he threw a box of condoms at me at a cafe and I threw it back to him and um... we threw it about for a bit in a cafe where everyone was watching. They must have thought we were nuts, and I guess we were. Anyway it was all this horrid misunderstanding over what an open relationship was, but it's all cleared up now. All I can say is that well... I guess I can be less selfish and think about how other people feel. For once. Although I think I do that most of the time, only... from my point of view. But I never really thought about my point of view very clearly before.

I'll be in Bologna with the Fix in a few days, we're going to have a nice time eating more good food that I don't deserve and escaping this infernal Dutch weather. Then I'll be going to Breda for a graphic design festival. I might even call in a favour from this Dutch guy I let couch surf at some point. Karma man. Funny how things pan out. :P