I cried this morning while getting ready for work and nearly cried last night while I was chatting with Kev on MSN. Just remarkably unhappy. I’m not sure I should go to London to see him in a few weeks, as planned. Our friendship is possibly not healthy, but it’s hard for me to imagine giving it up: he’s a nice guy, he listens to me, he makes me laugh, but I still have a crush on him and nothing will ever come of that.

Plus, he brought up yesterday for at least the third time since I’ve known him that he thinks I should be more outgoing. Which feels a lot like having someone who is nearly perfect telling me why I'm not. It does not feel good.

Also, he has offered to find me a decent man to date, which is sweet, but hurts a bit, because I want him. Of course, he’s not available. So talking to him yesterday was not unlike being punched in the stomach repeatedly. Or having something I want dangled in front of me while I am chastised and told that I cannot have that thing I want and why I am undeserving of it.

I have a feeling I will not see Zak again. For some reason, I started thinking about this Lithuanian guy I had a single date with back in the summer of 2008 and how I texted with said Lithuanian guy multiple times after that date. And every time, the conversation was initiated by me. Every time, he texted back several responses and was witty and charming and friendly. But after about the third time of texting him, I finally understood that I would not be seeing him again and that he was just not that into me. It isn’t quite the same with Zak because he initiated text messages after dates 1 and 2. But he hasn't initiated any contact since date 3. It seems evident that if I do not write to him again, he will not make any effort to contact me. If I write to him, he’ll respond because he is polite. I may even get a 4th date out of it, but that doesn’t mean he’s into me—just polite.

And so, as I think I’ve stated before, I’ve made it clear to him that I am interested and texted him after date 3. The ball is in his court.

I talked to Caroline about some of these things—specifically my crush on Kev and my desire to have a boyfriend. She implied that I shouldn’t date but it sounded different than the advice I’ve received on here—not that I should take some Kate time but that I should just be happy to be single and hang out with friends. As though I shouldn’t bother with it anymore. It pissed me off, actually, coming from someone with a live-in boyfriend. I want to feel loved.

Then again, last night, after talking to Kev and then talking to my high school friend Lacey who seems to have just been dumped rather cruelly by her boyfriend of one year, maybe it isn’t worth it. I don’t ever want to feel again like she’s feeling right now nor do I want to feel like Kev is making me feel. I wish I weren’t so needy.

As most of you already know, Leon’s mom died last Wednesday. I don’t feel entitled to mourn her, as Leon and his family aren’t in my life anymore. It’s definitely a weird feeling, but it will pass. It was just a few minutes ago, really, when reading Leon’s latest LJ entry that I realized that I really have no business concerning myself with it and so I will try not to.

I have nine days to find a cocktail dress for the upcoming conference. I have a couple of possibly suitable dresses at home but one is scandalously short and the other shows a scandalous amount of cleavage. I will go shopping tonight for the third time and if I don’t find anything I will try to FedEx something from the US or the UK. I really am running out of options here.

I had my second date with the American on Friday. His name is Zak, and I quite like him. He seemed a lot more relaxed and easygoing than on the first date and he’s been a perfect gentleman the whole time. I still haven’t had to pay for anything, and I like the way he wraps his arms around me. He makes me feel warm and secure.

He was very busy the rest of the weekend but texted me Saturday evening to see how I was. I texted him yesterday, and he let me know he’s free this coming weekend, when we plan to have date #3.

I am slightly concerned, though, that he could be a bit like David—well-off, established, educated, extremely busy, and possibly only looking for someone to keep his bed warm. I am basing this last judgment solely on the fact that he changed our second date plans from drinks out to drinks at his place. I hope he is not embarrassed to be seen with me. We’ll see if he takes me out this weekend (I also invited him to come out with my friends, and he said that he plans to get a lot done this week so he has more free time during the weekend, so perhaps I’ll see more of him than a single evening). Whatever. I don’t want to put too much thought into it.

Kev is back in Belgium after 3.5 weeks in the US and thank Christ for that. I missed him. He missed me too. After about two weeks apart, he wrote to me that he missed me a bit and he seemed surprised by it, if you can show surprise in a chat window. By the third week, he missed me a lot. I am definitely looking forward to visit him next month. He and I will get liquored up in London for Halloween, I think. I really enjoy his company.

Anyway, the rest of my weekend. I went to a mojito bar on Saturday and then out clubbing. I was out until about 5.30 in the morning and still up by 8 to take a day trip to Karlstejn for their burcak festival. Photos taken by my friend Petr can be found here.

But these are a couple favorites:



Me with Caroline.



Caroline, me, Petra.



Me, Caroline, Petra, and Jirka.



And again.

Also, I have twice hung out with this guy named Aaron who is from Washington DC and has a girlfriend in Slovakia. Purely as friends (he contacted me on Facebook well over a year ago when he was first in Prague but we never met up before). So he’s back in Prague and has been here since Wednesday. He’s contacted me every day to hang out. He only has one other friend, no job, and no place to live. His passport was stolen. I went with him to a concert on Wednesday and then invited him out to the mojito bar on Saturday. He annoyed the shit out of one of the other people there and she called him an imbecile after he left. He’s just so socially awkward. I have a soft spot for that but I also can’t quite stand him and want to shake him. It’s weird, though, to think that I’d give up a friend that seems always available but, right now, I feel more like his mother. Anyway, that’s enough of an update for now. Back to work.

I feel remarkably happy.

I’m a teensy bit stressed about work, though. Three weeks from today I am flying to Copenhagen for five days. My work is hosting a conference there. I thought I had written about it here, but perhaps not. Still, I’m not going to go into a lot of detail. Some of you know that I work for a newspaper syndicate, so we’re hosting a conference, along with the Danish government, for which we’re bringing in our newspaper editors from all over the world to meet with some of our regular contributing writers as well as some other big names in politics, economics, and the climate change debate.

I’m nervous about how it’ll all work itself out and also about how I will perform in that kind of social, extremely professional environment. It’s rather new to me. Also, I still don’t know what I’m going to wear. I did buy a new black dress that will hopefully be appropriate for something. And I am required to wear this scarf/wrap thing that may dress up something that otherwise would not fit the bill. But I have three days to fill and one cocktail-esque party and I don’t know if my black dress is dressy enough for the cocktail party or if it’s more suited to day wear. Maybe I’ll model it and a couple other things I have and let you weigh in.

Also, with my weight loss, I’m pretty certain I’m going to need some new dress pants. What is most stressful about all of this is that there are only a handful of shops where I can look for clothes here. Even with the weight loss, I can’t fit into a lot of things at Czech clothing stores, despite the fact that I’m hovering around what would be considered “normal” sizes in the US.

Anyway, still happy. And three weeks to sort out a clothing dilemma should be plenty. At least I don’t have to buy a pantsuit, so my options are more plentiful than I first feared.

Tonight, I’m going to some expat-ty event with Caroline. We’re going to watch a Hedy Lamarr movie and then there’s an interview with someone following it. That should be good. I hope I’m not underdressed. I have no idea if this is some sort of snooty cocktail thing or just a bunch of people hanging out and viewing a movie. I’m in jeans. I doubt I’m the only one.

I’ve been thinking a bit more about the guy I went on a date with on Tuesday and am getting more excited to see him again. I also thought that he might actually be a good match for me, based on purely logistic reasons: he’s looking to buy a place and, presumably, at an age where he’s ready to settle down. He’s busy, which means I can still have an independent life and develop in ways that I want to, even if we’re seeing each other. And, unlike Chris, he’s not busy in ways that’ll make me jealous. No, he’s busy working two jobs (I think?), getting his third MBA, and working out like mad at the gym. And he takes Czech courses. And he does some team sports and plays golf for networking purposes. If he’s someone I can only see once or twice a week instead of every night (cling, cling, cling), I can still hang out plenty with my friends, do lots of reading, and even start writing again, as I was inspired to do in London. I think this could be the perfect compromise for a girl who likes to have a relationship but shouldn’t necessarily be in one.

But I’m getting way ahead of myself. He may not be that into me (or vice versa). We need to see each other more to figure that out. At least I’m learning about what I want. I feel really good.

I’m hating on my wardrobe. Almost all of my shirts are unflattering, misshapen, and hang off of my body because of my weight loss. If not that, they’re faded. Actually, I just had a shirt go through the wash for the first time a few days ago and its color bled out and destroyed another item along with itself. This was on cold with like colors. Could my washing machine be to blame for this? Or is it the detergent?

I’ve been using this Alpine Tide, but maybe I should look more closely at the label in the event that it has bleach in it. But, still, would that cause bleeding? Caroline used to swear by Cheer to prevent fading, but they don’t sell that here. I just read that a cup of vinegar could help; maybe I’ll try that.

I know, writing about laundry is extremely boring, but I would feel better about myself if I didn’t feel like I were wearing a sheet today. And clothes here can be quite expensive, so it sucks to buy something new and then lose it on the first wash.

This weekend, I’m going to try to go through all my clothes and separate out everything that doesn’t fit or otherwise looks like shit on my body. I’ll just put them up in my loft for now; possibly I can bring them home for a garage sale if I’m Stateside at Christmas. Also this weekend, I’ll try to find a couple of inexpensive, cute tops. This is still a good time to catch the end-of-summer sales, even if I’ll only get a few more weeks of wear out of those things.

I hate looking like a bag lady.

Last night, I chatted with this really nice British guy who I exchanged a few messages on OK Cupid with. He lives near Vienna. Don’t even tell me that this was a bad idea; I know it. The problem was that I was just so bored and lonely last night. I talked to Dan earlier in the day about how part of my addiction to dating is driven by loneliness and boredom and a need to “pass the time.” He’s in the same boat. I need to fix this, and I am aware. Some partial fixes include going to yoga and pilates with Caroline. She just started going again this week, so I could join her next week.

Also, my new friend Lindsey is looking for a salsa dancing class to start taking together. She went salsa dancing (or salsa watching, really) a week ago and invited me but I was too chicken to join. Classes, though, would make a big difference.

Anyway, I think my mention of hashing to this nice British guy prompted him to ask me about Improv Everywhere, and apparently they’re staging an event next Saturday. In Vienna. I would really like to go.

Pros: Meeting new people; fun, exciting event; trying something new; a great first date experience. Cons: Would pretty much be a date; expensive and long travel and I’d need to be back early on Sunday because Caroline is setting the hash trail; expensive to get a hotel or hostel; alternative to hotel or hostel is staying with this guy and that sounds disastrous; do not want to start new long-distance relationship (especially with someone who doesn’t even live in Vienna, so the travel is even more inconvenient than it was with Chris); do not want to get guy’s hopes up; am still working on cultivating new group of friends in Prague and would hate to be away from potential gatherings.

I contacted Chris on Skype last night. Don’t even bother telling me how stupid this was. He wrote back and asked if we could talk in about 40 minutes. I knew exactly what this meant—he was playing World of Warcraft. I even logged in to verify this. He was. When he got back to me 40 minutes later, I asked him if he wanted back his clothes that he had left at my apartment. He said that he had been thinking about this; I said I’d take that as a yes, and he said I should take that as he had been thinking about it. Which means he was in some kind of word game mode. I ignored it and described the clothes—one item is a pullover that I never saw him wear but must be his because I can’t think of anyone else it could belong to.

He then said something about how everything between us seemed resolved but he wasn’t sure what path “it” would take. I’m putting “it” in quotation marks because this led to another word game, where I told him that I thought he’d already chosen his path and then realized he was referring to “it” and not him, and then he made me explain how these were different things.

No, really, talking to him is not the most annoying thing in the world; why do you ask?

The thing is, though, that I was actually in the right mood to talk to him. Lonely and bored, sure, but friendly and upbeat. Which means that when he took the conversation in a braggart direction, I could respond in the way that he always wanted from me: congratulating him, encouraging him, telling him how cool and awesome he is. The only time I disagreed with him was when he said something about how he has to work three times harder than anyone else because nothing is handed to him, and I said something about how some people just make it look easy but that doesn’t mean they aren’t working hard. He conceded that this could be true. Guess I can slip in something like that every now and again if 95% of what comes out of my mouth is otherwise absurdly, airheadedly (I’m making that a word) complimentary.

After anywhere from 30-60 minutes of sporadic conversation, I told him that I’d likely be in Vienna the following weekend and that I could either give him back his clothes or give them to one of his friends. This really infuriated him, and I tried to see it from his point of view. On the one hand, Prague feels like my turf, so I don’t like the idea of his coming here, especially if it weren’t to meet me. But I thought it would be far more hurtful for him to find out that I was in Vienna (as evidenced by the clothing drop off) and I didn’t tell him beforehand.

He said it was suspicious of me to go there and wasn’t it convenient that I’d found something I wanted to do in Vienna so quickly after we split? I said it was a one time event. He said he’d like to go to Munich next weekend and he started telling me about this amazing club there that is perfect for meeting women. I didn’t let that get to me and said the club sounded great and I’d love to go some time, asking him for the name and then looking it up online and saying it looked amazing. He said something about how it’s also great that it’s mostly upper middle class that goes there because it’s expensive and that keeps the scum out. I didn’t say anything.

Finally he said that he would think about it but that maybe he’d like to see me next weekend. There was just a part of him that was telling him not to go there again. Eventually the conversation ended when he was talking about his stupid pickup stuff and I was trying to stay so detached from it that I started responding with obnoxious phrases like “I feel that” and “I’m down with that,” which he didn’t understand. His English slang is great, so I found it hard to believe, but he signed off in a huff, saying he didn’t like to speak in riddles.

I sent him an email after to apologize for upsetting him, both with my slang (hmm) and for telling him I’d be in Vienna. I said it wasn’t necessary for us to meet and probably not even a good idea—that I want him to have his belongings back but that’s possible without us meeting. And, also, while it might be nice to see each other again one day, it’s not time for that yet. He hasn’t answered but I’m not surprised; he won’t.

I felt better about the situation after talking to him. There was a bit of schadenfreude, really, which is terrible of me to admit but true. I can tell he’s broken under that veneer, and, even though I love him and want him to be happy, I still want to see him punished somehow for what he did to me. I know I shouldn’t be reaching out to him. In part, he doesn’t deserve it. In part, it’s a waste of my time and emotions. In part, it sets me back in my progress.

Or possibly it isn’t all bad to talk to him, if I can remain strong and not argue: I see who he is now and that is not the man I loved. I see how vile the person he aspires to be is. It infuriates me and hurts me, but it also fuels me to want something more and better than what he could give me and what he now is. I’m probably not going to find that for a while, but pilates, salsa dancing, and possibly even an Improv Everywhere meeting shouldn’t impede the process.

Rereading my entry from a couple of days ago, I'm already cringing that I thought David would ask me to move to Dubai with him. But, a little over a month ago, he did ask me to move in with him, and he suggested moving together to another country on a couple of occasions--first the US or Canada and then Bermuda.

So I just want to prove that I am not completely delusional. It would simply seem that he gave up on the fantasy before I did.

This coming weekend is going to be difficult on me. Caroline leaves tomorrow for a canoe trip and there's no hash on Sunday, so I will have to go to a bit more effort to ensure that I don't end up staying in all weekend, feeling sorry for myself.

I feel really emotionally delicate right now--like every little thing is having a huge effect on me and I'm up then down then up then down again. If this isn't an endorsement for staying single, I don't know what is.

Around 3:30 or 4 on Friday, Chris responded to my email, saying something like “it’s not that easy.” Was there anything easy about my suggestion that we go our separate ways and he seek therapy? Also, he wants us to talk on Tuesday. He basically said nothing, just that he doesn’t know what he wants and that he’d have a clearer head on Tuesday.

I was really pissed. He’s drawing out the breakup, asking for time to think about what he wants. But he doesn’t seem to realize that it doesn’t matter what he wants. It’s over. I set my relationship status to “single” on Facebook. He responded by hiding his, which, in retrospect, was a lot kinder. I kind of wish I’d done the same, but I was making a statement.

Saturday morning, I woke up feeling rather weak. I responded to his email to verify that we would talk again on Tuesday, sent him a Skype message (he wasn’t online) to ask if Tuesday was going to work, and then texted him to say, “So, Tuesday, right?” Seriously, I am absurd. I needed to get away from the computer and my phone.

Fortunately, I had plans to go swimming. I went with Caroline, Jirka, a couple of Jirka’s Czech friends, my new Slovak friend Jan (who I may have written about before, calling him Johny because he anglicized his name when we first met), and his super cool British friend Sophia. Photos can be found here.

That was one of the best outings I’ve had with friends in a long time. So much fun. Around 6 PM, I got a text from Chris, saying, “Yes, Tuesday…” and it made me feel sad. I was thinking that I didn’t really want to talk to him. When I got home, I saw that he responded to my email as well, saying, “Yes, Tuesday” and asking how I was. And then he popped onto Skype briefly to say, “Yes, Tuesday.” I guess I deserved the triple response.

On Sunday, I planned to go to the hash. Actually, I did go to the hash but it began with a 30-minute bus ride and I psyched myself out right before I was going to get on the bus. No air conditioning, super hot, windy Czech roads? No, my stomach can’t handle it. So I took the metro halfway home and walked the rest.

Before I left in the morning, I exchanged some texts with David (and on Saturday, we exchanged emails). I’m not sure he’s going to Brussels. He had his last day at work on Friday, so he is definitely leaving, but I almost wonder if he was fired because he doesn’t seem to have his next job nailed down. Or, he was 99% certain he’d take the job in Brussels when the one he’d considered in Dubai months ago became available again.

So he had a phone interview on Saturday with the place in Dubai and he has another interview this week. He said that what they’ve put on the table is just too tempting not to consider.

My opinion on the matter is now that if he goes to Brussels, he will ask me to visit (he already has). If he goes to Dubai, he may actually ask me to go with him.

Anyway, he tried to see me last night, but I declined and told him that I would still keep my schedule open for him so he should make arrangements with other people and he could squeeze me in wherever. Worst case scenario, it’d be brief and then I’d see him again when I visit him wherever he moves. He wrote back, “We will see each other before I leave :-)” and I confirmed it.

When I got home from the hash that didn’t happen, I felt sad and I logged onto World of Warcraft, seeking Chris. He was online, of course. I knew he would be. It was my fault that he got fat and only played video games when we dated and here he is with all the freedom in the world and what does he do? He spends his weekend playing World of Warcraft. Of course.

I sent him a couple of messages, but he wouldn’t really talk. He told me to “learn patience” because we would talk on Tuesday and that he was close to knowing all he needed to know but he needed a couple more days. He said that there was still a chance for us but that my pestering him wasn’t helping things. I told him that there was no chance for us (“why not?”) because of this. Because he didn’t already know. He told me again to “learn patience.”

I told him that I loved him but he is selfish. He asked if I could love him without blackmail. I told him that I wasn’t blackmailing him because I wasn’t asking for anything. And he made some other grand statement, which was about when I logged off. He was on Skype for several hours last night but I didn’t write to him and he didn’t write to me.

Instead I talked for about an hour to my mom (with my nephew Harrison in the background—adorable!), talked on the phone with Dirk for about an hour (I cut him off when he started getting preachy), and chatted on and off for a few hours with Kev.

And now it is Monday, and I am getting text messages from Renaud, that other French guy who never seems to go away, and he wants to meet for lunch, but I would much rather be alone. Perhaps I’ll get a pedicure. Who knows? The opportunities are endless when you’re a single girl.

Only the one email from Chris. Lots of attempted calls on Skype, attempted calls to my cellphone (which has been off most of the day), and a couple of text messages. I have not answered any of them.

At 5:30 this afternoon, my boss tapped me on the shoulder and handed me the phone (he was on another line so he didn't say anything). I was expecting one of my directors but instead I was met with that thick Austrian accent.

Chris called my boss, people. I am so embarrassed.

He also contacted Leon and Caroline. Leon told him that he hadn't talked to me, and I don't think Caroline responded. What's kind of funny is that Chris actually thought they'd report back faithfully to him. Please. Leon and Caroline are loyal to me, as they've been in my life for 8-9 years. Leon's never met Chris, and Caroline's only been around him a handful of times. He asks them for something pertaining to me? They're going to ask me what to do about it.

Anyway, once Chris had me on the phone, he said that he was so worried that something happened to me and that he couldn't sleep last night. I told him that I am no longer his business and asked when he will change his status on Facebook. Now I wish I could remember how he answered that, because I thought he said "maybe we won't have to" but he probably said "we'll talk about it," which means nothing. He wants to talk to me tonight on Skype after he gets in from going out with a friend for a "man talk." Which could be anything but is none of my business.

I am having a movie night with Caroline and another girl, but I should be home by his suggested Skype time.

I just really don't see the point in talking to him, though. It will only be painful. Much as seeing David again would be painful. And pointless. There is nothing to be gained from talking to these men again--they have made it clear that they don't want me and also that they're no good for me.

He wants the talk he tried to have with me last night. The "let's not end this angry at each other" talk. That was something he said on Skype. I will be angry if I want to be.

It is 6:09 PM on Friday, and I am sitting on a train headed for Bratislava, Slovakia. Once I get to Bratislava, I will buy a ticket for Vienna and board a 50-minute train that will get into Vienna shortly after midnight. This is the only way I can get to Vienna on a Friday without taking off early from work.

I am writing now, because I wanted to update today but didn't have time during my lunch as I had to buy my train ticket. So I'll upload this in Vienna. Fascinating, I'm sure.

Wednesday evening, I was supposed to go to some English-speaking wine event with Caroline where we would meet some new girl who will hopefully be our new best bud to partially fill the void left by Leslie, who I have not heard from since she moved to the Netherlands on July 17, but Facebook activities, while sporadic, would at least indicate that she is still alive.

Anyway, Caroline and I showed up at the wine event and there was a note posted on the door of the shop, saying it was cancelled. I didn't care one way or the other, but she was really grumpy after that. She wanted wine, so I suggested we go some place else for wine, but she wanted this wine event because it had an American guy hosting it.

Also, Caroline wanted to make a new friend. And while she'd doled out her phone number to this new girl, Caroline didn't have any way to get in touch with her. So, Caroline was in a pretty bad mood for a while but we still ended up staying out and drinking beer for a good four hours.

Even though I only had two glasses in that long period of time, I think I was surprisingly drunk since I didn't have dinner. We popped into the pizzeria where Fouad used to work and I had a disappointing slice with broccoli and ham, but it wasn't very filling. Hence, I was pretty drunk. (Also, two of the guys at the pizzeria recognized me but didn't give me free pizza. They did mention Fouad, though, but one of them kept saying, “I don't know Fouad,” and I have no idea what that meant.)

Anyway, this is just back story for me to say that I was a bit drunk when I got home, and I just felt a bit sad. I was sad because I'd been drinking, because Caroline had been grumpy most of the evening, and because I had sort of hoped to return home to an email from David. There was none, which shouldn't have been surprising because I hadn't contacted him since he wrote his apology for not going paddleboating, poked me on Facebook, and used some Facebook application to say he “liked” me.

Chris was online but playing World of Warcraft so we barely spoke. I got online in a webcam chat with Kev, then, and he asked me why I looked so sad. It wasn't long before I was wiping tears off of my face, and he asked me to call him so he could cheer me up. He did, actually, but the most profound thing that came out of that was his asking me why I am sad and my replying “because it hurts that [David] is ok with never seeing me again.” Even saying that now makes me feel like I could start crying.

Kev responded that David “doesn't know.” Presumably, David doesn't know that he won't see me again. Indeed.

Kev left on Thursday to go to a hash weekend and then travel for a week with his wife, but he offered to text me every day until he returns, just to cheer me up. It's only Friday but so far he's made good on it.

(Also, Dan doesn't believe me when I tell him that Kev is happily married and has no romantic interest in me, saying that no man who is happily married talks to another woman every day. Typing Kev's offer of daily texts makes me think that Dan may have a point, but I also think that men like Dan and Kev are rare, good creatures and they have yet to prove me wrong.)

So, Kev was right. David still wanted to see me again, and he texted me last night a little past 7 with “Hey Kate how are you?”

Kate: “I am good. How are your preparations for Brussels going?”

David: “Slowly but surely. Are you doing anything tonight?”

And this is where I lied. I said that I was out to dinner with Caroline and two other girls, which was what I had been invited to do but was not what I was actually doing. I was at home, but I didn't want to see David, and so I lied.

I thought that this would be fine, and that it was better than vaguely saying I was busy because it didn't convey disinterest but clearly showed that I was unavailable.

He asked if we could meet after, and I said something like “we'll see” and offered to text him when I left dinner, intending to make that quite late. In retrospect, it was incredibly rude not to just say no, but I hate turning people down like that.

What ended up happening, though, is that he texted me shortly after 10 to say that he thought I'd be home by then and that he was outside my apartment, waiting for me to come home.

I texted to say “oh dear” and he tried to get me to come join him. I said I was far away and it'd take me at least 30 minutes to get home. I basically felt like a horrible person. It must've taken him a good 20 minutes to get to my place and he was pacing around outside for another 30 minutes, waiting for me. I was not, however, going to meet him.

Basically, I ended up telling him that I wouldn't be home for a while and he left in a bad mood that was conveyed to me by my apologizing for being “cruel” and his responding, “Cruel indeed.”

This triggered me to write that he couldn't call me cruel because I had never been unkind to him. This got no response so I asked if I would see him again or if he was too pissed.

David: “Yes sure.”

And then I sent him something really cheesy that basically translated into “I LOVE YOU, DAVID.” Something like, “Good. Not having you around is something I don't want to imagine. September will suck.” (In September, he will move to Brussels.)

David's response came rather quickly: “Visit Brussels.”

From there, we both sent each other another 4-5 messages. I apologized, but mostly we flirted.

I was sort of giddy at the thought of his inviting me to visit him in Brussels, but I also imagined that if he visited Prague, he may want to spend an evening or two with me, but mostly he'd rather hang out with his real friends. And in his first month or so in Brussels, he'll probably welcome any visitors who will entertain him in some capacity.

I was also thinking that if I lost weight, learned French, and found a great job in Brussels, sure, he might date me. But as I am, I'm not good enough to bring along for his new journey in Brussels. Only for a weekend, and, even then, I wonder how he'd get around his aversion to introducing me to people. My guess is that he'd ask me to visit him during the week so that he could be at work all day and only spend the evenings with me. Clever.

So, really, nothing has changed: David would date me if I changed myself completely, and he won't object to spending time with me, as long as no one else sees us together.

I feel bad about making him stand outside for so long last night, but it was much better than letting him in.

Ok, two weeks in a row without dropping a pound. I’m ok to plateau here for a bit; that happened to me in June. Weight loss is a long process for me, and I’ll get there eventually.

I don’t want to go into too much detail, but Chris won’t be able to get his vasectomy in a couple of weeks. The procedure is too dangerous in his case.

His anxiety has gotten so bad that he is sealing himself off in World of Warcraft. I’m worried about him because I love him. There’s a selfish part of me that kind of wants to break up with him because it’s not enjoyable for me anymore and he was never supportive of me in anything, ever, but I don’t see how I could break up with someone who is having anxiety problems. I know what he’s feeling, and it would be cruel to pile something else on him.

Anyway, last night, I played World of Warcraft with him for a bit, but it wasn’t fun because we were in a Skype call (as we usually are) and he was barking orders at me and I could hear him chomping his gum, which is such a disgusting sound. If I’m going to waste my free time doing something completely unproductive, can’t it at least be fun?

He was holed up in his apartment this past weekend. He said he played World of Warcraft for 24 hours. I assume he means total. Meanwhile, I went out with my friends on Friday night, saw David for a huge part of Saturday (not the best way to spend time, but at least I was out), and then went out on paddleboats with the hash on Sunday. Oh, and I talked on the phone with Dirk that evening. I feel like staying in all weekend and playing World of Warcraft makes sense when the weather is crappy, but it was beautiful.

Actually, I’m concerned that he’s going to return to where he was a few months ago and play this game all the time until he realizes that he’s sedentary and unhappy and the only change he’s willing to make for himself is to return to the seduction community.

He really does have a lot of problems. People with so many problems aren’t really stable enough to be in relationships, are they? I am the same. I should not be in a relationship. Maybe he and I can be more of a support group for each other, but he’s going to have to open up.

And I’m supposed to go to Vienna this weekend, but I’d kind of rather be in Prague. Caroline is planning another outing on the paddleboats and I’m sad that I might miss out. Chris won’t travel here because he came here twice in July. It’s my turn. Maybe I can find something fun happening in Vienna. I am not spending the weekend playing World of Warcraft.

No weight loss to report this week, but I’m ok with that. I’ve maintained my previous weight loss, and I’ll pledge a better week to come.

Huge fight with Chris at the train station on Friday. He arrived with the intent of dumping me and then leaving, but he broke down and sobbed in my arms. He said it was the first time he had cried in 15 years, and I guess he was angry at me that he cried so what followed was a list of everything he hates about me. The first item on this list was my lack of punctuality, which segued into how I only care about myself. Next, he said that it pisses him off that I am always so sad. He said I am humorless and no fun. He can’t joke around me, he said, because I am always whining and overly sensitive.

But what counts as a joke for him? Later, he touched my stomach and asked if I was pregnant. And then when I didn’t laugh, he said, “See what I mean?” Hilarious.

Actually, my weight was the final item on the list, although he doesn’t hate that I’m fat. He doesn’t care what I weigh, but I guess it annoys him that I’m trying to lose weight when I have such poor eating habits or something like this. He said that the reason I am bigger than other women is not because I eat too much but because I eat such unhealthy foods. He said I would be hotter if I were 25 kilograms lighter (but he wouldn’t mind if I were 20 kilograms heavier). 25 kilograms is 55 pounds.

Anyway, I convinced Chris to spend the night. In the morning, he regretted what happened the night before and decided to stay through to Sunday evening. We are still together.

David emailed me on Saturday that he “missed” his flight back from London, which probably means that he changed his mind and wanted to stay longer. He emailed me today to say that he is back and asked when we can meet again, suggesting tonight.

I’m cutting this short, because I feel sad. Actually, I wonder how much of the sadness that pisses off Chris is because of him. I observed this when I took him to the train station on Sunday. He was talking about how the world will end or something dark, and I realized that my sadness around him could be a reaction and not my depression. So many things he thinks and says make me hate the world.

On another note, Caroline returns today from a month in the US. We should have lunch together tomorrow so I can return her keys after taking care of her cat and watering her plants. Lugging a huge bag of kitty litter up a hill yesterday, I thought that I probably don’t ever want another pet. And possibly not a child. I’m not sure I can handle someone else relying on me.

…Which is good, because, if I stay with Chris, there will be no children. He has scheduled a vasectomy for August.

I am cutting out a boring introduction in which I explain why I haven't written lately. Who cares? I've been busy, and now I finally have the time to write about my trip to the Netherlands, which was amazing.

It was a hash weekend, and I have written about these before, but it’s basically an excuse for a bunch of zany people to get together and get drunk while doing running/walking trails and generally having a good time. I did one of these weekends before, and that’s how I met Dirk. That was the last time I did one: April 2006. It was ok. This time? I loved it.

We were in bungalows near the beach, and I went with Caroline. Leslie was supposed to go too and flew into Amsterdam with us, but she had a man waiting for her at the airport there. They’d been chatting on the internet and she ended up spending the weekend with him. She phoned me a few times during the weekend to check in and I told her to have a blast. I think she felt guilty for ditching the weekend we’d planned to have but I couldn’t blame her one bit. I’d have done the same, and I know she had a great time.

Anyway, here’s me and Caroline on the first day, on the beach:



Dirk was there too. We spent a fair amount of time together, but I managed to meet a bunch of new people too, which was nice.

My favorite was this fellow, who dressed as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at the costume party on Saturday night:



His name is Kev, and he’s a Brit who lives in Belgium. We’ve chatted a lot since I got back but don’t get the wrong idea: he is very happily married. And hilarious, which is part of what drew me to him.

Anyway, I think that a big reason why I enjoyed the weekend so much was because I received a lot of attention from men. Nothing happened, so, again I tell you not to get the wrong idea, but I think I was among the more attractive people there. When I told this to my therapist, I think he had trouble believing me. Fair enough. I’m no great beauty and this is Prague, where all the women are thin and gorgeous. But at this party weekend, most of the women were older and less likely to scrape on gobs of makeup to go on a hike. Plus, I arrived at Saturday’s costume party with my tits hanging out of my dress, so, any men who may not have noticed me the day before certainly did that night:



(It was also at the costume party that Dirk told me I was clearly the prettiest woman there but I wouldn’t go that far. I know that wasn’t the case but I was possibly the easiest to approach.)

And so the men flocked to me. Well, some of them. And it was mostly quite innocent.

At the after party of Saturday’s costume party, a couple dozen of us gathered in the living room of one of the bungalows and I plopped my chair down in front of a man who simply started massaging me (just my shoulders). Which was fantastic! And then another man decided that he, too, would massage me. And then another. And another.

And at least two men were trailing me like dogs. One asked me, at this after party, to come to his room (he gave me specific instructions) and surprise him. He said he’d have no problem kicking out his roommate. The following morning, he asked me if I had gotten laid, and I said no. He was really shocked how I could have so much male attention and not do anything. But I wasn’t interested (and I think I’ve almost managed to close my relationship again, so why would I muck that up?).

Anyway, what was so interesting about it all was that I had been talking to my therapist about how I think my life would be so much better if I were thin and beautiful. And then I felt like I got to experience it. Ok, still not thin but certainly attractive to many (who were drunk, but I didn’t mind). And what did I learn? I learned that I was right. Life is better when you’re attractive.

My therapist insisted that there was more to it—that the men were flocking to me for other reasons and so I humored him and I talked about this thing that Chris refers to as a “bitch shield,” which is that front that a lot of women put up to keep men they are uninterested in at bay. He has told me that I don’t have this, and he’s right. I am very approachable. I’m quiet, so I have to be approached--I rarely do the approaching. But men who buy me drinks in bars or hit on me on the street will get my attention and a smile.

And so I offered that some of these men at the hash are perhaps used to getting a bitch shield and they flocked to me because I didn’t have one. I offered friendliness. And the relatively small selection of people (120 or so over the course of three days) meant that it was likely that they’d all at least talk to me at one point.

It’s an idea. Whatever it was, I really enjoyed the attention. It was great.

It has been useful to my friendship with Dirk as well. He wants me to visit him in July. I doubt very much that it will happen but he at least had one of those very drunk moments where he told me what a gift I am in his life. I love those moments so much.

And I’ve made a great friend in Kev, who I hope to see at one of the next hash weekends I attend. Hopefully that’ll be some time this year, but it is an expensive hobby to travel around to different countries for these weekends, so we’ll just have to see. Besides, I think it was mostly luck that I happened to be one of the more attractive hashers in the Netherlands. The stars will probably never align like that again.

I’m quite sick with a cold and it caused me to lose my appetite earlier in the week and sleep quite a lot. I dropped two pounds in a day. But I think I might gain some weight while I’m in the Netherlands this weekend. On the one hand, I should be getting a lot of exercise. On the other, the only meal that is described on our hash program is pizza, and I tend to eat a lot when I travel because I eat at every available opportunity. My whole schedule of eating (and sleeping and everything else) gets thrown off and I tend to eat whenever food is put in front of me, for fear that it will be a very long time before it happens again.

So, here’s a quick update on things in my life:

Work has been pretty busy, as we’re preparing for a conference and I’m also trying to help a bit to cover for a coworker who’s taking two weeks of vacation. But everything is going well, I think.

Things with Chris are excellent. We’re going to have a three-day weekend together next weekend. He’ll get here next Thursday, and I’m looking forward to spending time with him, although my apartment looks like a tornado hit it. I’ll have to deal with that when I get back from the Netherlands.

David pissed me off last week by never answering that email. He knew I was out of town this weekend, so he left me alone but tried to see me Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights. I ignored him on Monday, sparred with him via text message on Tuesday, and nearly indulged him on Wednesday but I was too sick to want to go out plus I had my counseling appointment on Thursday morning. I apologized, but now I think he’s mad at me. Oops.

I’m going to the Netherlands with Leslie and Caroline. Dirk will be there. I haven’t seen him since August, and we haven’t been in very close contact in the past few months because he’s always traveling for work or I’m busy with Chris. I’m curious to see how that will go over. It’s a big party with 100 people attending, so I don’t even need to hang out with him but I’m looking forward to seeing him.

Diet and exercise are going well, but the whole catching-a-cold thing has sort of thrown it off. I can’t wait to be healthy again, and I hope I’m not wheezing and sneezing my way through The Hague. If I am, though, at least it’ll be an experience.

Last night, Caroline and I worked out for 90 minutes with a personal trainer. It cost us each about $15, which isn’t too expensive for a one time event but is way too much to pay for a regular workout. Our goal was to have him establish a workout for us and train us on all of the weight machines and then we’d be more competent on our own.

…But the trainer convinced us to meet him again on Thursday, so we’ll have one more 90 minute session and then try to do his routine on our own and possibly meet with him again in a couple of months.

Of course, a part of me would kind of like to continue with the personal trainer.

1. It was fun. I’m not sure how to explain it but I had a really good time and the 90 minutes flew by.

2. It made me feel like I was actually making progress instead of fumbling through a workout and not really knowing what I was doing.

3. It’s a good investment. Is there a better thing to spend money on than my health?

4. It forces accountability. He would encourage me to push myself harder than I would on my own and to actually go to the gym when I wouldn’t want to because I’d have an appointment. Presumably, anyway.

But, after Thursday, I will move forward on my own. If I fail to progress, then I will try to schedule another appointment with him. And I’m so glad that Caroline did this with me because I’d never do it on my own.

And now, it’s pie time. I lost 1.5 pounds this week, which is 9 pounds since I restarted my diet this year and a total of 43 pounds since my high.

I just flaked out of my plans for tonight, but I haven’t had a night in since last Thursday, and I definitely need some Kate time. Last Friday, Chris arrived in Prague and we had a great evening out—drinking and eating delicious food, of course. On Saturday, I took him to see a movie at a documentary film festival, and then we met Caroline, Jirka, and Leslie for drinks and a concert (I invited David to join us but he declined).

On Sunday, Chris and I stayed in all day until he had to catch his 5:30 pm train. I went immediately from the train station to the cinema where I saw Doubt with a new male friend named Honza. To be clear, he is just a friend, and not some converted ex-boyfriend or some guy who wanted to date me but I declined his advances. Just a friend, and, afterward, he and I went for beers. It was a lot of fun; he was really great conversation.

On Monday, I met up with David and we finally celebrated his job offer in Canada, although he said he’s not so sure that he’s going to take it. That it’s good to have options. I’m beginning to wonder if he might stick it out in Prague. I also broke his movie projector by knocking it off of the table it was balanced on (not sure that was entirely my fault), taking with it a glass of red wine that broke and splattered all over the white wall. I’m trying to find a place that can repair his projector, although he didn’t seem at all upset with me. It was a bit strange.

Last night, I went out with Leslie, Caroline, and Jirka for St. Patrick’s Day and we drank a ton and all earned free Jameson t-shirts for the amount of whiskey we consumed. Which is why I’m cancelling my plans for tonight—another movie and possible drink with Honza. Or, rather, I already cancelled. I feel guilty about it but I want to stay in and Skype with Chris. Tomorrow is our six month anniversary and we’ll stay in and Skype that evening too.

Friday, I’ll probably hang out with David again, and Saturday Leslie and I will go costume shopping for the party we’re attending in the Netherlands the first weekend in May, and then she and I are supposed to go dancing with Caroline that night but I wonder if it’ll actually happen.

Anyway, no real introspection to share. I’m just floating from one thing to the next, and feeling pretty good, mostly. I hope it lasts.

Two things at the moment, and one of them is so incredible that I feel the need to say out loud, "Holy fucking shit."

But first, the less incredible (but still interesting) one.

Yesterday after yoga, Caroline and I had a couple of beers and I naturally used this time to discuss my relationship with Chris. She complained slightly about how she doesn’t like how cocky and arrogant Chris is, and then she stated that I only ever date extremely confident men—each more confident than the last. And she’s absolutely right.

Well, there are a few exceptions to this, but those are exceptions that she never met: Scottish Chris was not cocky but Scottish Chris never met Caroline. Also, David wasn’t over-confident but the argument could be made that we never dated. Plus, again, Caroline never met David.

So, of my five boyfriends that Caroline has met, all of them were confident on an increasing scale, with Leon being the sort of confident that is normal and desirable in a strong male and not at all off putting while (Austrian) Chris is the most arrogant of all. Or, at least, he is capable of coming across as the most arrogant of all. I see his flaws and his insecurities, but he can project cockiness like you would not believe.

Anyway, Caroline said that I should date a humble man. And I found her observation and advice incredibly interesting.

I was thinking that I’m probably very attracted to these strong, cocky men because I’m a very insecure, weak person and their strength is what draws me to them. I want to feel protected, and confident men make me feel as though I am protected. This might also have something to do with the reason why I find it impossible to be single. I have this need to be around a strong person, and I choose for that strong person to be my boyfriend.

So, the humble men of my past: David and Scottish Chris. David is sort of my friend, I guess, but we will never date. And Scottish Chris faded into the mist after he had a brain tumor. Well, if blocking me on Facebook counts as fading into the mist. Feel free to read back on the “Chris” tag if you want details of our past.

Anyway, I decided today that I would email Scottish Chris but then I considered that he probably blocked my email address and I didn't want to go to the trouble of writing an email if it would never be read. So, instead I called him.

Four rings and then I hung up. I didn’t want it to go into voicemail.

And then my phone rang, and it was him. I answered and said hello. “Hello; who is this?” he said--the first time I had heard his voice in roughly 10 months. And I didn’t know what to say at that point so I just said “Oh, I’m sorry…” and then there was silence on both sides before the line went dead.

Obviously he had deleted my number and the country code didn’t immediately tip him off that it was me, but once he heard my voice, he hung up.

So I texted him, saying, “If I send you an email, would you read it?” And then there was silence. Hours of silence.

Finally, he texted me back: “It was a hard thing I did but it was better for you. Your [sic] just young and the last thing you needed was someone who was ill. It was hard for me to do that to you but it was better for you to think that I was a bastard.”

At last. After so many months of wondering what happened--why he stopped communicating with me, I now know that it was nothing that I did. I honestly thought that I must have said something that offended him and I replayed our last few conversations over and over again in my head. But it turns out that he wanted to protect me. I think it was a terrible and extremely hurtful decision, of course, but at least now I know why he did it. I texted back to say that I don't think he's a bastard, and he responded to suggest that we chat on MSN if I would like.

Yes, I would like. I would like to know that he is ok and to understand better what happened between us. Beyond that, I don’t know. Could we be friends? It’s possible. But maybe all we need is a chat or two on MSN and all will feel better and resolved. I already feel better. I feel as though a wrong has been righted, and it is such a tremendous relief.

I’m experiencing a low. I am extremely depressed and although I’m trying to reach out to friends, I actually feel a much stronger desire to curl up in the fetal position than to fight off the depression with social contact. I suppose that’s pretty bad then.

But I will go to yoga after work today, and I will see Caroline there. She has been working very hard to plan a holiday for the two of us for the end of March. I’m not sure that I can go but I appreciate her efforts and if she finds something that works with my schedule and budget, I will join her. (But I’m already going to Amsterdam with her and Leslie in May so I don’t want to go overboard with the girl travel when I’d like to leave some days open to spend with Chris and to maybe even venture to the US).

But seeing her this evening might lift my spirits.

Chris and I had a very big fight on Thursday. He nearly uninvited me for the weekend because he didn’t think he was emotionally capable of handling it. He said he needed some time to himself, some distance. He said that he felt like he had a wife but he doesn’t want a wife; he wants a girlfriend. He said that he’s very happy with our long distance arrangement and he sees no need to change that, because he needs space for himself.

At the beginning of the argument, he simply addressed some issues that he was having with me but asked that I “please” still come for the weekend. But then he took it back, after I expressed that perhaps we should spend it apart, so I don’t know if he really ever intended to uninvite me or if he was trying to punish me a bit for being manipulative. Either way, it worked and I ended up pleading with him to let me visit. I claimed that it was because it was Valentine’s Day but the truth is that for him to uninvite me felt like we were breaking up and I thought I might have a panic attack. He did at least stress that it was not a breakup, but…it just felt terrible.

In the end, he said I could come but I was scared about how it would go over. Like so many of our other weekends, it felt make or break. If that’s the case, then “make.” It was a wonderful weekend, and we both had a great time. He said that the fight was forgiven and forgotten and he had that look about him of someone who is very much in love, as he told me how amazing I am and how he was so happy to have me as his valentine and what a wonderful Valentine’s Day it was.

But I’m confused. After Christmas, we had a temporary problem where I was getting too clingy and it caused him to panic. I pulled back, and he said he felt closer to me than ever before and was immensely lovey dovey. He started talking about how he wanted us to be together forever and began periodically asking me to never leave him. For me, this was a sign that things were moving in the right direction so I started dropping hints about our future and how it was likely that either I would move to Vienna or he and I would move to the US.

But this was apparently a big mistake because, oh my God, these kinds of conversations were suffocating him! And that was brought up in Thursday’s fight. He needs space! He’s an independent human being!

Obviously pleading with him to spend the weekend together was the wrong move entirely but I did it anyway and both of us are immensely happy that we were together this past weekend.

Also, over the weekend, I made some mention of “if” we lived together (yada yada yada) and I ended it with some lame attempt to clear all expectations from the statement, saying that, of course, that was not necessarily going to happen and probably wouldn’t. And he immediately interjected to say that it made him feel sad to hear me say that we may not live together in the future.

Confusing? Yes.

Anyway, now that I’m back from the weekend, I’m going to give him some space. Ordinarily, for instance, I would email him within the first couple of hours that I am at work. Usually it’s just a quick little note to let him know what I’m up to or thinking about or whatever. Every now and then, he beats me to the punch and there’s an email waiting for me when I get to work. Today, I didn’t send one so, around noon, he called me to see what was up and if I was ok and to tell me that he loves me.

And I must admit that I’m confused. Is this just a case of a guy who wants what he can’t have? Or does he just not know what he wants? I think that he’s afraid that if our relationship progresses, I will suffocate him, so I have to prove to him that this is not the case. I am the kind of person who needs my space too and maybe the next time that we spend an extended period of time together, I will demonstrate how easy it is for us to co-exist—for me to go in another room and read while he plays with his computer or some such thing. I don’t have to be needy or clingy.

But, as of now, whenever I try to do something like this--even when I get up for a moment to go to the kitchen to get a drink, he gets pouty and tells me that he doesn’t want me to be away from him. He wants us to be together. And this doesn’t bother me at all because I find his affection so absolutely sweet. It just confuses the hell out of me when he contradicts himself with needs for space.

So I feel this need to reevaluate our relationship in terms of what I want versus what he wants, but this also just makes me extremely depressed and sad because I adore him and have such wonderful times with him and wish it would work out. For now, then, I will give him a bit of space and will try to do so from the fetal position.

Lenka unfriended me on Facebook. Not only did she unfriend me, she blocked me. I was a little surprised that she has the computer knowledge to do this, but Caroline said that Lenka is still her friend on Facebook and when I search for Lenka, she doesn't show up, so there's really only one way that this could be accomplished, i.e., she blocked me. Classy.

This is the second time in the last few months that I've been unfriended by someone because they wanted something from me and I did not comply. And so, the entire friendship was discarded.

In Lenka's case, she felt that because I moved into an apartment where she previously resided, I was obligated to receive and deliver her mail to her. While this is certainly a polite practice in the first weeks after the move, it has been 13 months since said move. Nevertheless, I did try to provide this service for her, but she was continually getting irritated with me that I wasn't able to deliver things to her at her beck and call. And because my mail delivery service was poor, she is no longer my friend. It's so nice when social networking websites can help spell things like this out for you.

The other person to unfriend me was someone I wrote about before--a summer fling. He wanted me to travel to meet him but I told him that it wasn't in my best interest. We had a very long talk where I explained to him that I was looking for a relationship, and since he was not, it wasn't going to work. But I assumed we'd remain friends and exchange emails and chat as we had before. Instead, he dropped me.

It's hard for me to value myself as a person when people treat me like this. I know that both of these people were users, of course. Caroline has always observed this behavior about Lenka, and this guy only wanted to sleep with me and when I shot that down, he discarded me because he didn't need a pal.

Today on the tram, I was thinking about how terrible it is that I base my own opinion of myself on what other people think of me and how they treat me. But I just think that if people are always treating me poorly, it is reflection on who I am as a person. People aren't nice to me, because, presumably, I'm not nice to them. After all, was it really so hard for me to get Lenka's mail? I found her constant emails, texts, and calls on the matter to be annoying but maybe it could have been worked around. It won't be now, and my worth to her was such that when I wasn't providing this service for her (and this was all I was doing; we stopped hanging out months before), I no longer belonged in her life. Cut out.

And I don't usually write about work, but I am a bit hurt that one of my coworkers who I actually quite like is having a party this weekend and she seems to have invited everyone else in the office, including one of our designers who doesn't even work regularly with us, but she did not invite me. She even asked me about this a couple of weeks ago, saying that she thought she was going to have a house party and would I be available a certain weekend but I think she was just making small talk because, in the end, I was not invited.

I simply know about it because the designer was in the office saying that he was planning to bring his sister to the party and another coworker today apologized that he wouldn't be able to make it because he'll be out of town this weekend.

I will also be out of town, and so I wouldn't have even attended, but I still would've liked an invitation.

Anyway, this feels like par for the course for me. People simply do not like me, and, at my most introspective, I know that this is because I am boring, uncultured, and unattractive. I am weird.

I have moved around and been exposed to enough new people in new situations to know that, in general, people do not take away a good first impression of me. Or second impression. Or third. It happens with enough people for me to know that it isn't them; it's me.

I do, of course, have people in my life who value me--the Carolines, the Dirks, the Chrises, and the Dans. These people are perhaps seeking out personality traits that most others are not. And thank God for that.

Because I can't tell you how difficult it is to be the person to whom no one wants to talk, who is only worth having as a friend if she will give you something (David also confirms my worth in this regard), and whose invitation mysteriously gets lost in the mail. Repeatedly.

I spent so many years of my life wanting to be extraordinary; right now I would like to be normal. To have the worth that others have; to be respected as others are. I am not, and it hurts.

This week is flying by. I feel like it was only yesterday that I was putting Chris on the train to Vienna; in a week, I could be preparing to go there myself.

Except that I don’t think I’m going to Vienna next weekend.

I’m not sure if Chris and I had the conversation about the future that he had envisioned and prepped me for but we did discuss two items about our future together.

The first relates to next weekend. Since he is about to change jobs, he thought that his company might give him paid leave to eat up the rest of his time there, or at least a couple of weeks of it. And so he said he’d like to spend those weeks here in Prague—me going to work and him staying home in my apartment, doing his own thing.

He said that he wants to spend more time together, and this is one way that it will happen: a couple weeks together at the end of February.

…But this isn’t quite accurate anymore. He has gotten the impression in the last few days at work that he will not be given paid leave. He does, however, have four remaining vacation days, and so he would spend those here in Prague. He will try to squeak out one extra day to make it a full week, and that is that.

So, rather than have me go to Vienna this week and then endure 3.5 weeks until he comes to stay with me at the end of February, we are considering breaking that time in half—something like 3 weeks apart and then 2.5. I’m not a huge fan of it, but it makes a lot of sense, and with this week flying by, it doesn’t feel like as long of a wait.

The other item was what I predicted, but I was expecting some sort of plan that would keep me in Europe. Instead, he said to me, “Katie Baby, I don’t want you to go back to the US. Please don’t leave me.” And he told me that I am now a part of him—a feeling he’s never before had so quickly with someone and the thought of losing me hurt him a lot. He held me close to him as he was saying this and I felt loved and protected.

Indeed, last weekend was very nice. I felt very anxious when it was time to take him to the train station but I felt better within an hour of seeing him depart. In the time right before I had to take him, though, I was so sad and so worried that my feelings from our last parting would return that I texted Caroline to see if she wanted to hang out and emailed my mom to see if we could have a Skype call.

On Tuesday, Chris planned to go out with his best friend (it didn’t happen because he was sick) and this would have been the first evening in a very long time during which I would have been alone. No plans with any friends, no Skype call with Chris. And so I started a desperate scheme to insure that I wouldn’t have to be alone. I asked David, Caroline, and even Kosta—the first time since August—if they were free. In the end, I hung out at Caroline’s and watched the inauguration and then went home and Skyped with Chris. But Kosta called that evening and we’re planning to get together next week.

Getting back in touch with Kosta brings up a question that I have struggled with for years: is a bad friend better than no friend? Welcoming David and now Kosta back into my life, I’m inclined to say yes. And I know that no one will sympathize with me when things turn sour, but I don’t want to think that far ahead.

Caroline and I went to a “power yoga” class last night. I don’t know what the “power” part of it is all about; it seemed remarkably easier than the yoga I did when I was in college, but I’m not sure if that’s because it was actually easier or because I’m in better shape now. Probably a little bit of both.

The class was in Czech but the teacher had noticed me and Caroline speaking English beforehand, so she said a few things in English for our benefit. I plan to go next week but I need to enroll in one or two other classes because I scarcely felt as though I had just been working out when I left the class.

Anyway, this checks off one of my New Year’s resolutions. My resolution to work on myself emotionally and mentally might also deserve to be checked off since I have started seeing that therapist again and I have been nothing if not introspective since I read that article on borderline personality disorder. But I think I might actually wait until I’ve had some sort of breakthrough before I declare that resolution a success.

And, really, attending a few more fitness classes should be required before I do the same with my gym resolution.

On a completely different note, I’m planning to go to Caroline’s after work so that we can watch Obama’s inauguration speech. I have a godawful headache at the moment, so I’m almost tempted to go straight home to bed but I would hate to miss out on the history of today, so I will try to bear it a few hours longer. For America’s sake.

Chris accepted a new job today. In Vienna, of course. He will not be moving to Prague in the foreseeable future. I have been amazingly calm about this, probably because I saw it coming for a while. I’m trying to have an if-it’s-mean-to-be-it-will-be attitude and succeeding, mostly, I think.

As I’ve said many times before, I see myself staying in Prague until 2010, so I have time to let this relationship grow. If we’re no longer together then or it seems to be going nowhere, I will most likely move back to the US. I would really like to be closer to my family.

My sister got married on New Year’s Day, and I was not in attendance. A Skype video call was attempted but it kept dropping, so I got to see everyone as they called back again and again, but I saw only about 20 seconds of the ceremony. My sister’s new father-in-law filmed it, though, so I’ll see it on tape. I am happy for her, and I do wish I had been there, but not in a regretful way. I don’t regret my decision; I simply think it would have been nice to share.

Chris will be here this weekend, and I think we’re going to play badminton with Caroline and Jirka. She’s really sick right now (I seem to have passed on my stomach flu to her), but she should be better by then. I expect that I will suck in amazing ways at badminton but I’ll give it a go.

Chris and I are also planning a trip to Athens. I set my sights on a March-May timeline, because the weather should be beautiful then but it shouldn’t be as tourist-packed or blisteringly hot as the summer. But now that he’s changing jobs, he may get some paid time off, so perhaps we’ll go in February. I just need to check the weather.

Finally, I went back to that meditative art therapist that I have twice tried before. I saw her yesterday, and I was mostly pleased with her, but we’ll see how long it lasts this time. In general, I find her a bit too quick to jump to easy answers (my issues with men have NOTHING to do with my dad, lady, please) and somewhat judgmental plus the art part of it is really hokey to me. But I need to see someone, and she already knows my history, so I will give it another go.

There were a few constructive things that came out of our meeting yesterday—namely, she observed that I think too many steps ahead and find myself getting frustrated by things before I even begin. She said that it’s ok to want something and not know exactly how to get there. It, of course, made me wonder if I should stop taking German lessons, because I’ve started taking them as a way of getting to Chris, but I think this is a bad interpretation. Possibly, taking the German lessons = good; thinking about how many years of lessons and how much practice I’ll need to be employable in a German-speaking society = bad.

So, I have my next German lesson on Thursday. Honestly, I am not at a level that is even the slightest bit communicative, but I am learning things, so I will stick with it. Baby steps, Kate. The big picture is so scary.