Sunday August 31, 2008

Today it has been exactly three weeks since K. and I started dating again after our false start. Three whirlwind weeks in which I got to know her better and really fell for her. But in the three weeks we’ve been dating I’ve also learnt quite a bit about her and I’ve felt my heart sink a couple of times. And this weekend I discovered another one of her dark sides and I find myself seriously doubting my dating future with this woman.

Fatima left this afternoon and I haven’t seen or heard K. yet today but after what happened last night I don’t really feel like meeting up with her tonight (as we had planned). Here’s what happened this weekend: On Friday evening Fatima arrived and we went to dinner at K.’s where they met each other for the first time. And at first I thought things were really working out and that they were kind of hitting it off. Fatima’s situation is not ideal at the moment (she’s seriously considering leaving her husband) and we got talking about that. We had all been drinking quite a bit (that’s just how it goes when old friends visit) and well, we all know booze makes you spill things that you would otherwise wisely keep to yourself. So Fatima explained to K. about how she found out that her husband had cheated on her and how she then cheated on him, with me.

That was a bit of an awkward moment, I can tell you that. Fatima and I never really addressed that night again, at the time I didn’t know about her marital problems and although it didn’t sit quite right with me that she hadn’t been honest I quickly got over it because she’s my friend and well, sleeping with an ex-girlfriend (although I definitely would not recommend it) can be very enjoyable and comfortable at times (not always though). I had just dismissed it as, how shall I put this, a night amongst friends that got out of hand because that simply just happens sometimes. I didn’t ask Fatima to not tell K. and she also didn’t know I hadn’t talked about it with K. because Fatima and I had just let the subject lie (and die). And I never had any reason to tell K. (not when she still had a girlfriend).

The night had been quite enjoyable up to that point but after what Fatima said the mood changed. Luckily we were all a bit drunk and it got kind of laughed off but I could see that K. wasn’t pleased. Shortly after that Fatima and I went back to my place. When we went to sleep I considered spending the night on the couch but when Fatima comes over (to my tiny flat) we always sleep in one bed and it’s completely harmless (yes I know, except for last time when we saw each other but the circumstances were quite different then). But a part of me didn’t want to give K. more reason to feel the way she was feeling when we left her flat. Fatima wouldn’t have it though and I was tired and I just wanted to get a good night’s sleep. And I did.

On Saturday Fatima and I spent the day together, strolling through town, talking about our love lives, drinking coffee and eating greasy food (necessary when slightly hung over). Fatima has never been one to spin tales about something, she always gives it to you straight and she told me that seeing K. and I together didn’t give her a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. She voiced her doubts about K. and she felt that last night’s tension was completely unnecessary. But they would get another chance to hit it off on Saturday night. Helen’s girlfriend Mona was throwing a birthday party and I was told to bring both K. and Fatima (and I had no intention of changing those plans).

I hadn’t heard from K. all day but that’s not that unusual, and we had already agreed that she would pick Fatima and me up to go to the party together. She was right on time and off we went. I can’t say the atmosphere in the car was a super festive one but at that point I still had hope. I can be so naive some times. During the first hour of the party everything went pretty smooth and although Fatima and K. were not talking to each other they both seemed to be enjoying themselves. K. wasn’t really talking to me either though. And if looks could kill Fatima would’ve died a hundred times that night. So I took K. outside to ask her what her problem was and she told me that she had a hard time seeing me with Fatima, that she would get over it and that she was going back inside. In other words: she didn’t want to talk about it.

As the night went on and only a few people were left the mood seriously started changing again. Fatima and K. were talking to each other by then but they weren’t exactly exchanging friendly words. It was obvious they hated each other, K. couldn’t stand Fatima and Fatima, well, she just doesn’t know when to back down and she would rather have died than to let K. get away with her (let’s face it, rather silly) jealous behaviour. The night before we had planned to take a cab to my place after the party (and pick up K.’s car the day after) and Fatima was going to sleep on the couch but when the cab stopped K. stayed inside it and told the driver to take her to her place. She didn’t kiss me good night and she gave Fatima the stare of death.

I hardly slept that night because I was trying to figure out what K.’s problem was. OK, I slept with Fatima after K. and I met but we weren’t dating at the time because K. had failed to mention that she had a girlfriend. So I couldn’t really understand why she was acting so crazy. Fatima told me that she had met that kind of woman before, spoilt, craving attention and irrational when it comes to love. But that was not how I saw K. at all. Not until then anyway.

And now I don’t know what to think. What was supposed to be a fun weekend turned out rather ugly. Earlier this week K. and I had agreed that she would come over on Sunday evening to spend the night at my place but I don’t know if she’ll show up. I don’t really feel like seeing her actually… There are two options: either she’ll show up with a big bunch of flowers and a thousand apologies (again) or she won’t show up at all. (Because we all know by now that K. is not a woman of small gestures.) I want to see her because I want to talk to her but this is not the first time we (or she) have some making up to do and we’ve only been dating for three meagre weeks. And already it’s getting old. And I’m getting old, I mean I’m 32 years old and I shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of childish behaviour anymore. That is not why I became semi-middle aged.

Dyke drama is fun to watch but less fun to be a part of.

Friday August 29, 2008

Today I will tell you about how I felt like I was almost looking in the mirror this morning on the subway. I was sitting opposite this girl and we both had our legs crossed, our handbag on our lap and our ipod in our hands. The fingers of our two hands were crossed (like when you pray) (back in the day when your parents made you) with the ipod in between and our right index finger tapping up and down to the beat of the music we were hearing in our headphones. I wonder if she was listening to Dolly Parton too (I didn’t ask). It was so strange it made me smile and I almost never smile on my way to work in the morning.

Anyway, I managed to not spend the night obsessing over K. because I changed the route of my Thursday night run and I ran all the way to her flat. I didn’t know how she was going to react to a sweaty heavily-panting woman on her doorstep, but it was a risk I was willing to take. She reacted well to my surprise visit and it’s not as if it was the first time she saw me in my sexy (ahum) running gear. She even drove me home (she has a car) (of course) a couple of hours later because I wasn’t going to run all the way back (and I could hardly stay the night and go to work in my running clothes the next day). So, all is well (for now)…

Tonight I’m expecting Fatima and I will introduce her to K. I’m rather excited (and a little nervous) about that, but I’m taking Fatima to K.’s loft so at least she’ll be impressed. (I don’t know if there will be time to blog this weekend, but I’ll do my best.) I had Fatima on the phone last night and she told me that earlier this week she had run into the girlfriend I was with before I met her and that she was pushing a stroller. And the baby in the stroller was hers. She and her girlfriend did a Bette & Tina and apparently my ex gave birth to a little girl 6 months ago (they are still together and happy to be so according to Fatima, so they didn’t do a Bette & Tina all the way). Hearing things like that makes me think about my life though…

Here I am, semi-middle aged and never having had a relationship stable and long enough to even consider having kids. Not that I desperately want kids, I think it’s better to start with finding and keeping a nice girlfriend first. Finding is usually not that much of a problem, keeping is though. (Maybe that’s why I like hanging with the gays so much.) And of course I’m not getting any younger, so let’s hope things work out with K. We’ll see.

The weekend is almost upon us, let’s enjoy it.

Thursday August 28, 2008

Today the dyke drama returns to this blog. Last night when I saw K. I noticed something was up with her and at first she denied it but I got it out of her eventually. And it didn’t make me very happy. Apparently she had met up with her ex-girlfriend on Tuesday, the girlfriend she broke up with for me. Because K. never talks about her I assumed they weren’t on speaking terms anymore (because I can imagine her ex was quite pissed when they broke up), but I guess I was wrong. I obviously also didn’t know that they had planned to meet on Tuesday. Not that I expect to be told everything that K. does… I just think that seeing your ex is something you would want to tell the person you are currently dating. Unless you’ve got something to hide.

But the fact that K. met up with the ex-who-has-no-name-on-this-blog wasn’t the worst of it because I can’t reasonably have something against ‘befriending exes’. (We’ve all done that, right?) It was more that the ex-with-no-name had tried to kiss her… It’s hard enough to know that they were still dating (and therefore also kissing) (and more I presume) when K. and I started seeing each other, I definitely don’t want to picture them kissing now. Well, the picturing would be hard because I’ve never seen K.’s ex. But still. I wasn’t really amused by K.’s confession. And that’s another thing, I almost had to drag it out of her (and it’s not as if she’s shy or anything) and I wonder if I would have ever known if I hadn’t insisted.

I feel some trust issues coming up here… but I’m trying to tell myself it’s not such a big deal. And I’m trying to understand. Although K. was very reluctant about admitting what happened, she was very adamant about not having allowed her ex to kiss her. But I’m not entirely reassured, like tonight e.g. I’m not seeing her and well… that worries me now while I know very well that it shouldn’t and I don’t want a girlfriend that is super-glued to me. If only she had told me immediately that she saw her ex that night. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal to me then, but it’s the secrecy (and the attempted kiss) that makes me doubt her.

We did some serious (lesbian) processing last night and she apologized a thousand times but apologies are not what going to make me trust her. At first I felt like going home but I find it so hard to resist K. So I ended up staying the night (wondering what was going to happen next)… I think I know myself well enough to say that I’m not really the jealous type and I’m also quite reasonable, so I hate to feel like this. My previous girlfriend cheated on me and I guess that kind of scarred me (and made me paranoid).

But I’m nowhere near ready to give up on K. yet, I like her way too much for that. And it’s not as if she actually cheated on me, she just didn’t tell me that she had met her ex (she explained to me yesterday that her ex had called her Tuesday afternoon and asked her to meet her for a drink and that she didn’t really see harm in that) which was probably because her ex tried to kiss her… I suppose I can learn to live with that.

Maybe I’ll drop by her place tonight for a surprise visit…

Wednesday August 27, 2008

Today I will write an ode to the gays, not the lesbians I always go on about but all the wonderful gay men in my life. (I didn’t see K. yesterday so there’s not really anything to report on that subject.) I don’t know why but all my life I’ve hung out with the gays (=gay men), if I wouldn’t have been out I’d have been the haggest of the hags. I’ve just always felt so attracted to their company and I’ve always thought it such a misconception that gays and lesbians don’t have that much in common and don’t like to mingle. Of course there are those who don’t feel the need to mingle (except for sperm donations), and that’s fine, but I couldn’t live my life without all the delicious drama that my gay friends bring. Because if you think that dyke drama can be bad (it can be bad though), you haven’t seen gay drama yet. I don’t mean to be judgmental at all, I’m just saying this from years of experience in listening to tales of broken gay hearts and ruthless cheating: in general, the gays are much more promiscuous than the lesbians (please mind how I said ‘in general’) (which means I know I’m generalizing, yes I do).

I won’t go into what I think is the reason for the different approach the gays have to relationships because well, I’m not a gay man and therefore I don’t have a p*nis which kind of disqualifies me from assuming I can ever really understand. But then again, this blog post was not supposed to turn into an essay on the differences between gay men and women. So let’s move on.

I don’t really have any male friends that aren’t gay, I know straight men obviously (even in this day and age it’s pretty hard to escape them) but I’m not friendly in the same way with them as I am with my gay buddies. First off, when, as a lesbian, you meet a gay man there are no romantic feelings involved (well, normally not anyway) and there’s usually no sex involved either. That helps when befriending someone. Also, my gay friends are all so pretty and they look good on me when going out (whether I look good on them is another question). I know some real queens, you know, the kind of gay you can spot from a mile away (and that needs more than double the time in the bathroom than any lesbian). I actually have quite a wide range of gay buddies, all with such different personalities and views on well, everything. And they’re all so good-looking and being the serious goldstar that I am I can lie in each one of their arms for hours and not feel uncomfortable.

I guess we could say that the main reason why I like gays so much is because they’re not straight. They hug you without expectations, they give you beauty tips (and products), they bitch like old ladies, they all shag each other without complications (they really do), they have the best gossip, they dance like ballerinas, they spend more money on clothes and shoes than you do, they had to come out just like you did one day but most of all they’re so much fun. Well, my gay buddies are anyway. And the truth of the matter is that if we all weren’t gay I most probably wouldn’t have met all these lovely guys.

And no, it’s not because they all shag each other or want to shag each other’s boyfriend or ex-boyfriend or whatever that they all get along, quite the opposite, but I love me some good gay drama now and then. And yes (for the record), I do know gay men who are in a non-open (closed?) long-term relationship (not nearly as much as lesbians though). And I love them all so much.

I was just thinking all of this last night, my best (gay) friend Ben had invited me and some other friends (all gays) to dinner (we skipped swimming, again) (dating is so bad for your waistline, it’s all coming back to me now) to get to know his new boyfriend a bit better. And I was sitting there in between all these great guys, laughing, chatting, enjoying the sort of attention that only a gay man can give you (and getting tips on how to treat an upcoming zit) (I have a friend who works in cosmetics) and thinking about how I love being gay and how I would never have dreamt it any other way.

All of this just to say the following: if you’re like me (you love the gays, you’re addicted to reality TV and YouTube is your friend) I have a tip for you: watch Step It Up & Dance, it’s so gay.

Regular dyke blogging will resume tomorrow.

Tuesday August 26, 2008

Today my feelings are hurt. Or maybe hurt is too big a word, let’s just say my ego is a little bruised. On Sunday we had agreed that I would spend Monday evening at K.’s place and I would go straight to her flat after work. (Which meant I had to work late because she told me she wouldn’t be home before 7PM, being a workaholic and all.) So I did my best not to arrive too early, wanting to give the impression that my job requires long hours too (you know how it is when you start seeing someone and you want to make them think you have this really busy social and professional life because you think it will make you look good like Bette Porter in The L Word in the movies). This was hard for me because it seems like my brain is set to no longer perform job-wise after 6PM. (It has had years of practice after all.)

So I arrive at K.’s loft – eagerly looking forward to spending the night in that place of lavishness – with my headphones still covering my ears (I never go on the subway unprotected). And she asks me what I’m listening to and I say ‘this and that’ and she looks at me sort of quizzically and extends her hand because she wants to see my ipod. I reluctantly give it to her because well, I’m very much in a Dolly Parton kind of mood lately but that is just not something you want to share with someone you’re in love with and want to make a cool impression on. Especially not when you’ve been dissing (albeit lovingly and teasingly) that certain someone’s taste in music on more than one occasion (even though you’ve only met a couple of weeks ago) before. You get the picture, right?

K. sees I was listening to Dolly Parton and she starts snickering. But I don’t have to stand there being mocked by someone who has a record collection consisting of two Best Of The 80ies albums. So I begin to tell her that in between Girl Talk, Fleet Foxes and Santogold (namedropping to impress), Dolly Parton has earned her rightful place on my ipod because her last album is simply very good. This doesn’t seem to have any effect on K. who just keeps standing there with a mocking smirk on her face. And then I think about how I used to not want to date anyone who didn’t have the same semi-indie taste as me but of course when you’re over 30 that kind of silly snobbery doesn’t play anymore… But it does sting that my taste in music is being ridiculed for no reason because Backwoods Barbie is a truly great record. (You should try it some time.) (Especially ‘I Will Forever Hate Roses’ & ‘Cologne’.) (I’ve always been a sucker for hyper-sentimentality on a catchy melody.)

And the truth of the matter is that I’ve been addicted to that particular Dolly Parton album for quite a while now, even though I don’t have (or know) any other music by her (except 9 to 5 of course, even my 4-year old nephew knows that song) (or maybe my nephew is already showing signs of gayness). In fact, it’s been the soundtrack to my summer so far and it was there for me every morning when I had to get up early, it was there for me when I met K. and I was feeling all flustered, it was there for me when she told me she had a girlfriend and when she told me she broke up with her girlfriend. (Of course I didn’t tell her all of that.)

Luckily I learnt long ago that bruised egos are a big part of dating.

Monday August 25, 2008

Today I can tell you that K. appears to be a rather jealous (but cute) woman. I told her about what happened when I went out on Saturday night and she barely managed a smile. She asked me if I had kept Laura’s phone number and although I am a fan of honesty I thought it better to say No at that point. I was a bit surprised by her reaction though, seeing as she was dating someone else when she asked me out (and it didn’t seem to immediately occur to her that some people don’t like that.) And it’s not as if she was really angry about it, she just had the cutest look of disappointment on her face (a look to die for). And it also turned out not to be something that a bit of Sunday afternoon loving lazing couldn’t cure.

Sadly Sunday is followed by Monday and as expected work is getting busy again. But when I say that my job is hectic it doesn’t even compare to a quiet day at K.’s job (well, according to her anyway). She’s the boss’s daughter and apparently that doesn’t mean you get to take it easy at work. All I know is that she works long hours and goes to a lot of meetings (and that she looks cute in the power dyke uniform). She says that she’s very ambitious and she doesn’t expect everything to just fall into her lap because she was born rich (and she doesn’t really have to work to survive). (I bet she can be quite bossy too.) But the fact that she works so hard does redeem her rich girl habits for me. And I find it easier to let her pay for things (like the pizza delivery guy last night).

Despite my feelings for K. when we first met (I suppose you could say it was love at first sight) (yes, that can still happen when you’re older than 30) I did have my doubts about her, but now I’m starting to ease up and I’m really enjoying our time together. I can’t wait to introduce her to Fatima, who’s coming to stay with me next weekend. I didn’t tell K. about what happened with Fatima when I last saw her, I don’t know, it just seemed a bit inappropriate…

Now I have to get back to work so I can at least kind of feel as if I’m not lying tonight when I tell K. I worked as hard as she did today.

Sunday August 24, 2008

Today I find myself in an unexpected state of confusion. And it hasn’t got anything directly to do with K. You know how you can have periods in your life when nothing exciting happens, when you don’t meet anyone new that interests you while you’re actually starting to feel desperate about being single… and then you meet someone you really like and you can’t keep smiling and thinking about that cool girl that happens to fancy you as well. And then when you least expect it, when you’re not even looking because you feel you’ve already found what you were looking for; you meet someone else. And that ’someone else’ seems to tick all your boxes as well, just like the other girl did but that other girl isn’t with you at that moment and you find that you’re not even missing her. Life can really trick you that way.

I met up with some of my friends last night to find out what they thought of K. We’re all in our thirties so we don’t go out dancing that often anymore (it’s not easy to combine being semi-middle aged and dancing in a socially acceptable manner) but Ben insisted we’d go to this new club (probably so he could show off his gay dance moves to his new beau). I ended up having a good time, partly because no one had a bad word to say about K. But also because once in a while you really need to let your hair down and go out with your friends and do silly dance moves, even when you’re semi-middle aged. (Don’t do it too often though because it might get ridiculous.)

So we were in this club and I was happily dancing the night away when one of my friends told me that a girl had been giving me the eye all evening. I had noticed someone looking at me but I wasn’t paying attention to it because I’m dating this gorgeous charming funny lovely (not to mention rich) woman, referred to on this blog as K. So, I don’t need to go making eye-contact with other women in clubs. But this girl didn’t need much, I looked over at her once and she was already coming my way. (I don’t know what it is with me lately, maybe it’s that glow that 32-year-old people have about them, but I’m not used to all this female attention.)

And this girl introduces herself to me as Laura and she doesn’t seem nervous at all. I know she’s hitting on me but I start talking to her anyway because well, I actually find her very attractive and she makes me laugh. I can’t resist that. We chit-chat a bit and she asks if I want to go out with her on Sunday night and I tell her I’m dating someone. This doesn’t really seem to stop her because she asks me how long I’ve been dating and at this point I have to really rack my brain but I fail to come up with the correct answer so I just say a couple of weeks. (I know I met K. on the 17th of July but we had a bit of a rocky start.) So, this girl Laura (who is really brash and seems to know no shame) (I kind of like girls with no shame though) concludes that K. and I mustn’t yet be exclusive then. I tell her that I’m always exclusive when dating someone and this seemed to really make her laugh. (I do wonder, is that so ridiculous?)

She then asks me if she should stop talking to me and I reply that I don’t have a problem with talking to her but she mustn’t expect me to flirt with her. But she seems extremely sure of herself and she claims she can make me flirt back with her. And I think to myself: WTF, this is not the flirting and dating etiquette that I’ve known (and practiced) all these years and I ask Laura how old she is and she says that she’s 24. When I ask her what she’s doing, hitting on semi-middle aged women like that she just smiles. And I have to admit that I start flirting with her a bit as well, but it’s all pretty harmless. And in the end I do tell her that I’m really not available but she insists on giving me her phone number anyway. I don’t give her mine though, I don’t want silly young girls on the phone begging for a date, especially not when K. is coming over.

I do think that, despite her age, I would have taken her up on her offer if I wasn’t dating K. I was flattered by her attention. But all I want right now is to have a laugh over it with K. later. She’s coming over to my place (which must be a real sacrifice for her) (and I honestly don’t know what I was thinking when I insisted we’d also meet at my tiny flat now and then) to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon watching dyke movies, or Project Runway (Go Terri, Go Stella), or the Olympics Closing Ceremony. Because I may not have a big apartment, I do have a giant flat screen TV.

I did keep Laura’s phone number though.