I didn’t make it to the gym last Thursday. I was at the doctor instead, for what seems to have been a rather painful urinary tract infection. The doctor didn’t actually diagnose me, though, in the sense that she didn’t ask me to pee in a cup, didn’t feel around on my abdomen, and didn’t have a looksy at my lady parts. She just listened as I described my frequent urination and how I was having abdominal pain and then she wrote out a prescription for a pain reliever and an antibiotic.

I’m halfway through the antibiotic (the prescription for which cost about $1.50 and my doctor’s visit $10, although Caroline’s doctor is only $1.50 a visit—just want to remind everyone how great socialized medicine is), and I feel completely better. I was actually suffering through that for a while—felt sick even before I went to London two weeks ago—so it’s nice to be healthy again.

Date #6 with Zak is tonight. Tomorrow marks two months since our first date. Six dates in two months? That’s nuts, as far as I’m concerned, and I’ve decided not to put all my eggs in Zak’s basket until I can be certain of what he wants. Which would explain why I went on a date and made out with that pickup artist back in October. And why I had a date last night with a Czech guy, who paid for me even though I had my wallet out, said at the end of the date that he’d like to see me again, and emailed me a suggestion for the next date. I’m not really sure how I feel about him, though.

On Sunday, our hash was probably the best one I’ve ever been to in Prague. I put some pictures up on Facebook: Linky.

I'm lazy as hell, but I wrote the following as an email to Dan, so it's going to read like an email to Dan. I'm not going to edit it; I'm just pasting it so that I can update you all on what I've been up to in the dating scene without actually having to write an entry that'd be essentially what I wrote a little while ago.

So here's the entire thing:

So you know I've been seeing Zak but I thought he wasn't very into me. He and I saw each other on Friday the 17th. I thought it went well but didn't hear from him on Saturday so I texted him on Sunday. Took him 5 hours to answer but he was playing in a golf tournament so I let it slide. I did, however, think that if he wanted date #5, he should take the initiative, so I waited.

And waited. And waited.

Finally Thursday rolls around and I have not heard from him, and I'm planning to go to this social event/drinks at a pub near his place with Caroline and Sophia, so I decide to invite him to join us. I know he won't come but I thought it'd give him the chance to suggest a better time for us to get together. He writes back an hour or so later and says that he's playing squash and having dinner with work colleagues and then he has to prepare for an exam. That's all he writes. Hmm. So I text back that he's even busier than I thought and that it's kind of hard for him to squeeze me into a schedule like that. Winking smiley face.

He writes back that we should try to get together during the weekend or Monday.

Me: Ok, sure, no pressure. How's Saturday?

Him: Maybe on Saturday. If not, Monday.

Me: Ok, sure, just let me know.

Saturday comes and goes and I hear nothing. Ditto Sunday, for that matter.

And I'd say that's the end of it but he did actually write today to say he can't meet tonight but how about Thursday? I'm busy on Thursday and suggested next week and then kind of threw in that it'd be nice to see him before he heads back to the US for Thanksgiving if he can't meet next week. He wrote back that we will meet next week. Mmm hmmm.

I'm not mad about it, just kind of over it. And thought it was over on his end and he was just letting it fade out. But writing to me and providing another time to meet suggests some level of interest but a weird communication problem.

So...kind of thought things were over and went to that social event on Thursday. Met a Portugese guy. Very, very cute. Very, very interesting. Unfortunately, only visiting Prague. He lived here for three years but has gone back to Portugal and was just here visiting for a week (flight back today).

But I felt like we had chemistry and we exchanged numbers, talked a lot, and we parted with him kissing my hand and saying it was a nice surprise to meet me and he'd be in touch.

I look him up on Facebook. He's friends with David. Also, he was saying things that were reminiscent of Chris so I called him out and...yes, he's well schooled in the seduction community. And, again, leaving to go back to Portugal. So...when he texted me Friday evening to ask me out for drinks on Saturday afternoon, I should've said no, because those were all bad signs but I was a bit giddy about him (will send you to his website so you can see him).

Anyway, had drinks on Saturday. That went well. We kissed a bit but not much and we were only together for about 2.5 hours because he needed to go to a dinner party and he asked me if I wanted to get dinner on Sunday or go to a movie. I chose the movie. 8 PM at a popular expat pub, so free movie, expensive drinks.

Aaaaaaand cut to WORST DATE EVER:

So movie starts at 8 and I decide that I will get there around 7:45 because that seems reasonable. And it's a good thing too because I get one of the last tables but I am a bit worried about him showing up because he hasn't contacted me all day and I'm worried that there was no confirmation. So I order a beer and I wait and wait and wait. I write and erase texts to him, thinking that I don't want to sound neurotic for asking if he's coming but wonder if he's coming. I finally send one about 8:05, and not 20 seconds later, he walks in. So, embarrassing, impatient text message sent and received. Nice.

I don't mind terribly that he's late and am just relieved that he's there. He tells me that he's invited others so he looks around for spare chairs but there aren't really going to be any because the place is packed. He orders a wine and then decides that we should move over to a table where he knows a couple of people. And so we do.

It's a boyfriend and girlfriend and he talks to the girl a bit and makes a joke that she doesn't find funny and he tries to play it off like she just doesn't get it but it's a really awkward moment.

Eventually the movie starts; he texts quite a bit throughout it. At one point, he leaves because his mom is calling (or whoever he tells me is his mom). His friends come and join us. They stay for about 5 minutes, tell him they're heading to another bar, and they leave.

The movie ends and these four film students who had been sitting on the floor come and join our table. One of them is a very pretty blonde girl from Florida. Andre introduces himself to all of them but he starts talking quite a bit to the blonde girl. He does, to his credit, try to engage me in their conversation but they start talking about a movie that I've not seen so I can't add anything. And then I feel like she's trying to shut me out.

He ends up GETTING HER EMAIL ADDRESS AND PHONE NUMBER. I realize at that point that I should leave. The part of me that has any self respect thinks he's crossed a line and I should maintain my dignity. The part of me that has no self respect thinks I should leave because she's prettier than I am and doesn't it suck for him to be stuck with me when he could be with her?

But his friends text and he wants to go meet them at the pub where they are, and he invites these four film students to join us but they're in a big group and don't want to join. Andre and I leave.

When we get outside, I tell him that that had never happened to me before. "What, me being social?" he said. He said that she really hit on him, but that doesn't explain his taking her number now, does it?

So we arrive at the second pub and it's packed. No free chairs. So he pulls up a stool beside his friends, slaps his hand on it, and tells me to sit there. So I do. And I spend a few minutes fiddling with my coat and purse, deciding where I can put them. I see him talking at the bar with someone and realize I should get myself a drink but he comes over as I'm standing and he hands me a beer. He leaves.

I sit on my stool so I'm like at least a foot taller than everyone else I'm with and sort of hover over them, trying to make small talk and trying to pretend like I'm really into the live music.

My eyes scan the room and I make eye contact with this guy named John who I never told you about, I think, but basically someone who does not like me one bit. He smiles sheepishly at me and waves and I hide my head in my hands. He strolls by later and I poke him in the arm and we talk for a bit. Turns out he was going to play at the open mic night but he canceled his song because I'm there and he can't sing in front of me. He tells me I'm very fake as all Americans are and he giggles while I tell him about what I've been up to. It felt like being mocked but I realize after the fact that I used to make him giggle because he was so attracted to me. So that's probably what it was but it felt awkward at the time.

Andre is going from table to table and talking with everyone. He knows everyone. Every now and then I'll feel his hand on my back and he's appeared to ask if I'm having fun. Yes, I'm having fun, I tell him.

Finally the crowd dwindles to the point where he's got nothing better than to talk to me. In all fairness, I do understand that he was only back for a week and wanted to see his friends and it was sort of sweet for him to invite me along and I think of his being friends with David and how David would never be seen in public with me and Andre was introducing me to lots of people so...there was something nice about that. And understandable that he couldn't give up an evening to date me. But it made me feel pretty crappy.

We end up kissing a little bit in the bar, and then he tells me that he wants to take me to a door frame (like an alcove, I guess) to kiss me more. So we end up making out like teenagers in the streets and then he says that if he still lived in that neighborhood, he'd invite me back to his place. But he's just visiting and sleeping on someone's sofa, so he says I have the control. And I say nothing. I do not invite him back to my place. We kiss a bit more and then we go for the night trams. His comes 15 minutes before mine and he says he wants to take it because otherwise he'd have to wait 30 minutes and I understand this entirely but then spend 15 minutes standing outside in the cold by myself. It's 2 am at that point.

I go home, feel like an idiot and want to cry.

THE END

I thought Date #4 with Zak was the best yet—very relaxed and comfortable with good conversation. The goodbye was a hug and kiss with my remarking that it was nice to see him and his chiming in that it was nice to see me too and then a “see you soon.” He didn’t contact me at all on Saturday so I texted him around noon on Sunday before I went to the hash.

It took him five hours to respond. He was playing in a golf tournament, so I understand, but I also just keep thinking He’s Just Not That into Me. So we texted back in forth about three times each and I decided that if he wanted another date, it would have to be his initiative.

It is now Thursday. Nothing from him. It’s not weird, really, as he’s so busy but I’m disappointed. I was convinced I would’ve heard from him by yesterday. I’m going out for drinks tonight with Sophia and Caroline at a Couchsurfing event that’s near to his apartment. I’m tempted to invite him along, knowing he’ll turn it down but as an excuse to make contact and prompt him to ask me out. But what’s the point when He’s Just Not That into Me.

Shot off an email on OK Cupid that may lead to a date; the guy has written back but I haven’t read it yet since I won’t access that from work. Also had a mail from a guy in Michigan who seems very similar to me so I’ve responded but, you know, that’s in Michigan.

I was thinking on Monday about my future. I’m going to update my CV and start looking at what’s out there. I really like my job but I have to move on at some point, and I’ve been working here for more than two years now.

I’m going to London from next Wednesday through Saturday to visit Kev. When I get back, I’m going to a Halloween party. I ordered a costume but I don’t know if it’ll arrive in time. If not, I need some sort of backup.

Got an email from David today asking when I’m coming to Brussels. Haven’t answered yet. Haven’t spoken to Chris in a week (wow, go me!). Dan doesn’t want to spend New Year’s with me anymore.

And for the absolute minutiae, I caught up on this season’s Project Runway and am now watching Ugly Betty. My weight is pretty much unchanging. This week, I’ve been having rather large lunches and then skipping dinner. I will probably skip dinner tonight too but will have some beers. Still haven’t looked for a gym. Soon.

I felt really good yesterday. I got 12 hours of sleep the night before, and when I talked to Kev during the day, I told him that I wasn’t tired, stressed, sick, or sad about some man. I felt the way, I imagine, I should feel.

And then I totally fucking spoiled it by looking at the Facebook profile of Chris’ best friend on which he posted a photo of Chris at a pub, sitting next to a pretty woman. Said pretty woman could be the interest of Chris’ best friend or, judging by her expression, she may not even be having a very good time. But it really really hurt my heart to see that. I took Chris’ best friend off my Facebook friends list. He and Chris have been going out a lot lately and he posts mobile pictures from his iPhone so if I really want to suffer, I can watch them enjoying themselves in real time.

Also, Chris uninvited me for the weekend. Which is good because I wouldn’t have gone—I can’t see him and I have a date tonight. But I wondered if I was uninvited because he has a date with this pretty woman. Chris has invited me to visit him NEXT weekend. I will be in the UK.

I am going to make the biggest effort yet to not speak to him again. It has been two months since he dumped me and I haven’t shed tears over him in a couple of weeks, I think. I no longer entertain ideas of us getting back together. At the moment, I want him to think I’m amazing and regret dumping me. And I think he does, on some level. But it’ll never be everything I want it to be and I really need to let it go.

I thought I was far beyond the kind of hurt that photo made me feel. I’m feeling better today. I just need to make sure that I don’t have a lot of alone time where I get tempted to text him (which I haven’t done in quite a while, actually) or get on Skype to chat with him. Tonight I will see Zak, and tomorrow I hope to go out with friends. Also, I should look for a Halloween costume because I was invited to a party that I’d really like to attend. Also, the hash is Sunday. And possibly next week I can start looking for a gym. I was down almost half a pound this morning, but I’ll wait until next week to record it.

At the moment, though, I want to feel normal for more than a day. Maybe better than normal. Tonight I am hoping to wrap a blanket around me and Zak, watch a movie, and enjoy the company of someone who has been nothing but kind. I’m sure, though, it’s too early for that kind of coziness, so maybe a dinner and drinks is better. Sigh.

I feel much better today. I went to the doctor yesterday afternoon, and then I got a good night’s sleep.

Also, Zak texted me. He asked how the last-minute conference organizing is going, and he updated me on his trip to Slovakia, which is where he is now and where he’ll be until Friday He had already told me this, and that, along with my trip to Copenhagen, made it obvious that we would not meet again for a while.

But I guess he’s still interested in me. The question now is whether I’m interested in someone who is so busy. But I needn’t worry about that now.

I talked to Chris last night. He was down in the dumps, because he’s in trouble at work. I think he must’ve been really dickish to someone in an effort to get “more power” and that person formally complained. Now Chris might be facing disciplinary action; he’ll know in a week, which suggests it’s serious, because there must be a meeting scheduled about it. I have no idea, really, what he did, but I have trouble imagining his getting fired over one instance. Especially when said instance happened at least a week ago, meaning it wasn’t such a big deal that it needed to be handled immediately.

Anyway, he said some things that I found irritating—his usual pickup/seduction crap—but he was open and sad enough that he revealed that he’s not been on a date since we broke up nor has he slept with anyone. He’s having trouble staying in a “set,” which basically means that he’s approaching women and being quickly shot down. He blames his weight gain (although, honestly, I’ve looked at the photos of us from when we first met and he was not that much thinner) and his losing his game. He hopes to get laid by the end of the year.

He seemed really pathetic. It’s this or his cocky bullshit. He used to be so fun. He’s destroying himself.

And he’s started drinking again. He made it a couple of months; at least that’s something. But he’s an alcoholic who needs help, and that is not for me to deal with. I tried to help him, and we all see where that got me.

Not! My! Problem!

Tonight I run my very last errands and then pack my bag for Copenhagen, because I’m going to try to leave my apartment by 5:30 am. I wish I were already back.

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.

David wrote to me yesterday on Facebook, and I was shocked to hear from him and shocked by his offer. I'm pasting the exchange, but I think I need to get out of it. He's just going to add more stress to an already stressful situation. Can you imagine if he had some big wine thing and I tried to cut in on it?

David wrote, on October 2 at 11:22am
Hey Kate,

Sorry for the long delay, still staying at a friend's place, and work work work!

I will tell you more later, but Brussels is fun.

How are you?

D.

Kate wrote, October 2 at 2:04pm:
Hi, David.

I'm glad you're enjoying Brussels. Things have been good here, but quite busy. I'll be in Copenhagen in one week for our conference and, when that's over, my life should go back to normal. I can't wait. :)

After that, I'll try to plan a couple of trips for the fall and I'm going back to the US for a couple of weeks at Christmas. I'll be in Brussels in December, which I think I mentioned to you before. I wonder... :)

David wrote, on October 2 at 2:19pm:
Hey Kate,

I don't think you have mentioned it, but great!
Will you visit someone in particular, or just the town?

Let me know how copenhagen is. What days are you going there? I could visit while you are there maybe, what do you think?

Kate wrote, on October 2 at 4:30pm:
Oh no, I just wrote you a whole explanation of my trip to Brussels and then I lost it when my computer restarted while I was away from my desk. Grr!

So, nutshell version: there's a Christmas shindig that I'm going for--a little cocktail party that should be a lot of fun, and perhaps you'll get to see me all dressed up! :)

As for Copenhagen, I'll be there from the 8th through the 12th. It'd be fantastic if you could pop over, although I'm on a minute schedule so I don't know what that would allow for...:-\

David wrote, on October 2 at 4:54pm:
Ok, let's see if we can work it out.

;)
Kate wrote, on October 2 at 5:19pm:
Absolutely. It's not a big deal for you to travel there?

David wrote, on October 2 at 5:50pm:
We'll see, I'll try to work it out. I will let you know in the next few days ;)

Will you be staying at some friends place, or in a hotel?

Kate wrote, on October 2 at 6:13pm:
I'm staying at the[Name of Hotel]; it's a business trip so my company is handling my accommodations.

If you can't come, there's always Brussels, though. Maybe I'll even be there before December if you have a couch to surf. :)

David wrote, on October 2 at 6:33pm:
I will always have a couch to surf for you!

I move in my own studio on monday, for 6 weeks, if you want to come soon. Very small studio though..

Do you think it would be weird if i stayed one night with you (or 2) at the [Name of Hotel]? If we hide like proper lovers..

I should have told him no from the outset, shouldn't I? That's what I was getting at with the minute schedule but, on some level, I would like to see him and am flattered by the effort he'll go to to see me. I also have trouble telling him no.

I didn't actually paste the whole exchange because he has since written, offering to come on Sunday and stay until Tuesday or Wednesday, if I can extend my time. I wrote back that I could see about changing my flight back and taking some additional holiday time but I don't think I want to stay at such an expensive hotel then. And, also, I know perfectly well that this is a bad idea, unless I can enjoy his company without getting emotionally involved. (Also, why do this after Zak seemed to go to the effort of telling me that he's, at least, not messing around with his ex? He seemed to be implying something exclusive, which is what I want, but do I want it with Zak, i.e., someone who doesn't seem to have much time for me? Regardless, why am I screwing around with the past?)

Anyway, I don't have time to analyze this at the moment because I should be checking over a PDF for work. And I need to leave for Caroline's birthday party in a couple of hours.

In five days, I'll be in Copenhagen. In nine days, I'll be on my way back and it'll be over. I cannot wait for it to be over. I still have a few more items that I need to purchase before I go, including dress shoes, possibly a coat, stockings, and maybe one or two new tops. And a dress. I may go out in a couple of hours to look for some of these things, although I should really be tied to my computer because I promised to help with some last minute arrangements. Of course, our email server is down. What to do?

I had my third date with Zak the American last night. We went out to dinner, so that ends my brief suspicion that he is like David and embarrassed to be seen with me. Three dates down and I still really like him, although I'm not used to things moving so slowly. He's too busy to see me more than once a week or once every 10 days (probably won't see him again for two weeks because he'll be in Slovakia this week and then I'm in Denmark), and it occurred to me that my entire relationship with Kosta would fit into the time period that I've known Zak. In that time, I thought I knew Kosta quite well, because we were seeing each other about five times a week.

I admit that's excessive. But it wasn't just one-on-one. He joined me on the hash; he came out with my friends; I met his best friend for drinks. And we'd meet after work for dinner a couple of nights a week. Zak doesn't have that much free time. And, so, while I was able to feel rather close to Kosta (and he fell in love with me) in about a month, I've barely established familiarity and comfort with Zak.

Last night, we didn't end up going for dinner until 9:15. This was perfect for me because I was in the office until 7:30, but that's only because of Copenhagen. I will be less busy soon, but Zak will not. And when I left his apartment this morning (shhh, don't judge me), I asked him if he could ever have a lazy day, i.e., a day of sitting on the sofa cuddling and watching movies. He has to wait until his classes end for the semester, so he could maybe schedule a lazy day in his Blackberry for December. And he still has another year of classes.

I guess that just because he is almost 40 doesn't mean he's at a place in his life where he can have a serious relationship. Age really is just a number.

Anyway, two interesting, relationship things came out in the conversation last night. First, he told me about some Czech woman that he dated back in January and how they're still good friends. He said they traveled to Norway and Sweden together in August. It made me feel a teensy bit jealous but, without prompting, he said, "But we didn't do anything together." And then clarified that there was no sex; they're just friends. He didn't need to tell me this but I am glad that he did. He wants me to know that there's no one else (of course, with his schedule, I'm not too surprised).

The second thing may have concerned this same Czech woman or possibly someone else, but he was talking about how he dated a woman with a five-year-old child but he really wasn't interested because of the kid. Which is when he made it clear to me that my being divorced is not a similar kind of deal breaker. Again, it was something he didn't need to say but I thought he was making his interest known. And I liked it.

As far as I'm concerned, there will be a date #4. I still don't really know where all of this is leading, but I'm on board. Although, let's see what happens in the next two weeks; so much can change...

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 hid one of Chris’ friends from my newsfeed on Facebook. Now I don’t have to see his constant stream of status and photo updates. I hid David a few days ago. I wish I’d known about this “hide” feature months ago; it makes that constant refreshing I do at Facebook infinitely less painful.

So Chris’ ultimatum: Either he comes here this weekend or we never speak again. But the American guy I had a date with last week offered up this coming Friday or Saturday for our second date. Sophia is having a party on Saturday, so I agreed to a date on Friday. Weekend full now, so no room for Chris. It’s over. I persevered. Or something.

Actually I tried to talk to Chris a bit on Sunday. I was hungover and about to head out to the store, but I asked him for five minutes. He said, “NO,” and that he didn’t want to talk to me because he was busy, and I couldn’t believe he wouldn’t give me five minutes. He said we could talk in a few days. I said that if he couldn’t give me five minutes, there was no sense in his coming for the weekend. Bitchy? Yes, especially because I knew at that point that I didn’t want him to come anyway. But he certainly got me back for it with the end of our conversation:

[16:29:20] Chris: why can't you accept that i simply don't want to talk NOW???
[16:32:17] Kate: i have
[16:32:25] Kate: it's ok
[16:32:26] Chris: i said NOW
[16:32:32] Chris: i just don't want to talk NOW
[16:32:38] Kate: it's ok
[16:32:40] Chris: why is that so hard to understand?
[16:32:43] Kate: i understand
[16:32:52] Chris: and why do you always have to escalate?
[16:33:15] Chris: can't you simply shut the fuck up and keep your drama to yourself?

I said nothing after that. He sent me two apologetic text messages later but I didn’t answer either. He’s blocked on Skype again, and it’s only a few days until the weekend and then, if he sticks to his ultimatum, he won’t talk to me again.

That Czech guy that I had the unimpressive date with a while back texted me, in Czech: “You are a pretty girl, I want you.” Today, he sent me a long message on Facebook, in Czech, about how he will only communicate with me in Czech from now on because, isn’t it sad that I’ve been here so long and I don’t speak Czech? He’s offended by it.

It seems to me like he’s just trying to make up for the fact that his English is horrible, and there’s nothing wrong with that but I’m not going to date him. I took him off my friends list. I don’t have time for that shit.

Other things: I spent most of the weekend with friends—out to dinner with Sophia, Lindsey, Jan and a few new folks on Friday, and I met Caroline and Pavlina before and after that at the unfermented wine festival. I was again at the unfermented wine festival on Saturday. One of my friends wouldn’t let me put up photos of her on Facebook because she was so embarrassingly drunk, but so was everyone (except me). Seriously, at least three of them fell over drunk. Another wandered off and couldn’t be contacted or found. One left in tears after a big fight with her boyfriend.

…Basically, a great night!

Photos from before things turned sour are here.

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.

Friday night, I met Jan, Sophia, Lindsey, Caroline, and Jirka for Mexican dinner. The food was worse than I remember but I had a lot of fun. They were having a 50% off special so we ordered a lot, including an entire page of desserts. That may have something to do with my lack of weight loss this week, or perhaps it’s the full English breakfast I ate with Sophia and Lindsey on Saturday. No matter. It hasn’t gone up yet either.

When I got home around midnight Friday, I was surprised that Chris was online and not out doing pickup. We chatted until 4 am. Pleasant.

Saturday, I got my hair cut, met the girls for the English breakfast, which was actually at 2 pm so we decided to stick around until 4:30 for happy hour. After that, we walked around, bought tickets for Bruno, bought a couple bottles of wine to sneak into Bruno, and then went to the movie.

I got home around midnight, and I was again surprised that Chris was online. We chatted until 5 am. Mostly pleasant until the very end when he said something that prompted me to ask him if he loved me. That turned him into his old self, saying that he wouldn’t go there, that I want everything at once, and why can’t I just enjoy what we have? His wooing went down the drain, I’d say.

On Sunday, I spent 8 hours at a hash. I don’t even feel like I got that much exercise as it was mostly a flat trail. It was 11 kilometers, but I think we cut it down considerably by taking a bus for the last leg of it. Caroline, who set the trail, determined that it was too dangerous to do again—a windy, country road with no sidewalk. Good call.

I talked to Chris again on Monday and he issued an ultimatum that either I see him in the next two weeks or he will never speak to me again. I don’t want that to actually work, and I doubt he’d go through with it. But I’m considering letting him come to Prague next weekend when Sophia is throwing a party. At least then it’s his time on the train, his money for a ticket. But I’m enjoying just talking to him. His pickup tells him that he can’t wait any longer or else he’s lost his chance with me so he has to pressure me. And he has been.

Kev emailed me on Monday to ask that I not date anyone for a while. I’m going to take his challenge, except…

I had already scheduled a date. But that is it. That’s the last guy to get a chance for a while, because I really didn’t feel like going and had already sort of moved and rescheduled it. I don’t know what it is but I can’t get excited about dating. It feels a bit like a chore—like a job interview. Selling yourself and building a rapport with someone. It’s not fun.

But I had the date last night with an American guy. It’s the first American I’ve been on a date with since Leon. He’s turning 40 in December, has two MBAs and is getting a third. He’s from Indiana. His background is in finance. He’s very into fitness and described going to gym as his kind of religion. He was raised Jewish and went to Hebrew school until the 5th grade. He’s been in Prague for two years and speaks pretty good Czech. He wants to buy a flat here and settle down. He must make very good money because his monthly rent for a two bedroom penthouse in a nice part of Prague is almost as much as my salary. And he paid for everything, including my cab ride home.

I thought he was very nice. I think he was trying to get me drunk, although it was sweet that he ordered drinks that he already knew I liked—burcak (unfermented wine that’s in season now) and then we did a few shots of tequila. We didn’t laugh, though. He used the word “marketization.” And we probably talked way too much about said marketization, fitness, and Czech people.

When he put me in the cab, he suggested meeting on Saturday. And he texted me this morning.

I went home and talked to Kev for a bit and told him that I didn’t feel the “wowie zowie.” The spark. The chemistry. I never really put much thought into it before, although I did have it with David (he made me float on a cloud) and with Chris. But I’ve also had a couple of relationships that lacked that initial attraction and I thought that was ok, because it always grew. But I”ve been talking to online dater extraordinaire Dan about this lately, and he won’t even bother returning messages from women he doesn’t find attractive.

I mean, that makes sense. But I thought you should give everyone a chance. You might find a treasure that way.

If anything, I decided that this American guy, spark or not, gets the second date because he seems like a nice guy. I may not spark with a nice guy. Or rarely. But I’d like to be finished playing with fire.

Yesterday, I responded to Chris’ text messages with something like, “If you’re going to do pickup, do it on someone else.” He wrote back that he wasn’t, and then I called his techniques “Pickup 101.” He said that I was wrong, but that he was wrong about me too, thinking I would be friendly to him. And that? Pissed me off like you would not believe.

Thankfully, it was well past the end of the work day and I could go home. Immediately. I drew myself a bath when I got home and cried. I still love him, and I felt rejected all over again. I just don’t know what to do with him. I know how bad he is for me, but I still want him so much. He has the potential to make me so happy and to make me feel so warm and loved. To make me feel so valued.

I texted him to apologize for being snippy and to tell him that I would be on Skype if he wanted to talk (actually, that was pre-cry). I called him, and he sent the call to voicemail after two rings.

And so I got home, cried, and turned on my Skype, knowing he wouldn’t show up. Which is why I decided to keep the date I would’ve otherwise cancelled to have an evening in by myself. My very first date after our breakup was a big Fuck You to Chris. (Gee, I'm not really ready for a relationship yet, am I?)

As expected, Chris didn’t show up on Skype, but he texted an apology just as I was heading out. I told him I waited for him for an hour on Skype, he didn’t show, and so I was going out. I think he thought I was bluffing, but I told him that we could talk later (he wanted to know when) and out I went.

I met this Czech guy named Ales. (Everyone reading this just mentally pronounced that like the drink; it’s the Czech form of Alex.) Two years in the Czech Republic and that was my first date with a Czech. And the first time I’ve ever had a date with someone younger than me. He’s 26 but he definitely seemed young to me.

Anyway, he was sweet, but I wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest and his English was pretty bad (words I had to translate for him include “East,” at least four weekdays, and “church”). (Also, I’m living in the Czech Republic so I don’t expect Czech people to speak English but it’s sort of a requirement for a boyfriend.)

We met in Nove Mesto and walked a route somewhat similar to two other dates I’ve been on—across the Charles Bridge, up towards the Castle, through it, around the Cathedral (or “church”), and then back down into Male Strana. He was prepared for this and brought a bottle of water. I dressed for sitting in a pub and have new blisters on my feet.

At one point on our way towards the Castle, we stopped to admire the city and he rolled himself a cigarette, offering me one. I declined and stared directly down at one of the restaurants where David used to be the sommelier. Diners were seated in a dimly-lit garden and being served by suited waiters. I wanted to be there, in that world, and not at a distance, as I was at that moment. As I always was.

When we got into Mala Strana, I wanted a drink, and so I decided that we would go to a pub with a beer garden that I’ve been to a handful of times. Ales told me that he couldn’t drink because he’s on antibiotics for a week, and somehow I knew he wasn’t going to order a drink, but I was thirsty and wanted a beer.

Czech service is generally pretty bad, but never have I been treated as poorly as I was last night. I ordered my beer from a waiter who sneered at us when Ales didn’t order and then told him to put away his water bottle, which he had casually placed on the table, because “this is a restaurant.” Another waiter came and conversed with Ales in Czech. I don’t know what was said, but I wonder if they didn’t want to serve us because only I was drinking. I wished that I had ordered two beers and drunk both of them myself—they’d never have known.

When my beer came, the waiter made a big presentation of setting it down in front of me and turning it around so that the handle was on the right-hand side, making flourishes and bowing as though he had just handed me something of great value. This was not good service; it was rude.

I considered that our patronage was a hassle to them and not worth their money, but Czechs barely tip for service, so it shouldn’t matter to them, really, how much I’m spending. This is, I think, why I was actually forced out a clothing store once when there were 5 minutes left before closing and I had items I wanted to purchase IN MY HANDS. The woman who took them couldn’t have cared less if I bought them; no commission for her and what did she care about the company? “We open at 9 tomorrow morning,” she told me and refused to let me purchase them.

When my beer was half empty, that second waiter came back to make rude comments to Ales, and so I said I would pay. I took out 100 crowns (roughly $5) and he reached for his money bag. I waved my hand. “No, no, it’s ok; it's for you.” He couldn’t believe it. “You want something else?” “No, it’s ok.”

The beer was 31 crowns. A 300% tip. But only $5, mind you. He left us alone after that.

I don’t normally do things like that, but I was hoping to teach him a lesson. That $3.50 tip was probably more than he got from the next two tables full of beer-guzzling men to pay. I wanted him to consider that, just because we didn’t look like valuable customers didn't mean we were worthless. Or perhaps he’d simply feel bad for being rude. I really don’t know, but it has to be a better strategy than glaring while paying exactly 31 crowns.

I’ve only done this once before and made sure to tell Ales that this is not something I do. I was just so angry at the service. The time before was years ago, in St. Louis. I went to a Korean nail salon for a manicure, and the woman pushed me into getting a pedicure too. I wanted a pedicure, but my feet were calloused and I was embarrassed. And understandably so. When she pulled my feet out of the bath to go to work, she started chitchatting and giggling with the other women. I don’t know for certain that they were talking about me, and it’s possible I was just being paranoid, but I felt like they were.

And so, after she finished my pedicure, it was time to pay so that when my manicure was finished, I could leave even if my nails weren’t dry. I gave her a $10 tip. Again, not a ton of money but much more than is recommended for such services. And for my manicure, she didn’t say a word to the other women. No giggling or chitchatting. I was suddenly a valued customer and human being.

I don’t like dangling money in front of people as an incentive to treat others nicely, but, for some, it seems to be the only motivator.

Anyway, we left the beer garden after that and Ales and I parted near a metro/tram station. As we were saying goodbye, I could see the wheels in his head turning as he was figuring out what kind of goodbye he was entitled to. He told me I had a nice smile and leaned in for a kiss, which fell sort of halfway on my lips and halfway on my cheek. Just a peck. That was plenty, and I was home a little before midnight.

He emailed me when he got home that it was a “sweet evening” and requested to see me on Saturday.

I got on Skype and talked to Chris. Until 4 am. Lots of flirting. He wants me to visit him in Vienna this weekend. It will not happen, and I am being very clear about it. Well, I didn’t tell him that I’m not coming because I made a hair appointment and Caroline is setting the hash trail on Sunday so I intend to be here, but I was clear that we need more time apart and I don’t want to meet him unless we are both clear on what we want and what we can provide for each other. Which may never happen.

Basically, I’m not an idiot but I am still in love with him and want him so badly. He will not be what I need, though. As he tried to woo me last night, I quoted his breakup email to him and how he needs another 5, 10, 15 years of “adventure.” He said that we could meet each other halfway, but he wants to be a pickup artist with a girlfriend. That is certainly not halfway. No, halfway is what? Living together with an open relationship? Living apart with a closed relationship? He hangs out with his pickup artist friends and flirts but doesn’t sleep with other women? I don’t like halfway.

It’s troublesome. We’re both so in love and so drawn to each other, but we’re incompatible.

And I can already predict the comments I will get on this entry but please know that I am sorting this out. I obviously have a strong attraction to assholes with a soft side. Is there a 12-step program for that?

I sort of have a date tonight with a photographer, but I think I am going to cancel it. I actually didn’t want to meet him for a date; he offered to photograph me and since I’m opportunistic (see also trip to Dubai), I said yes but he said tonight would be a drink and we could do photos on Saturday. Hmm.

Chris is doing a pickup maneuver on me called push-pull. He texted me just now after a couple days of silence (I reblocked him on Skype) with, “How about impressionism, btw? :-)” Or maybe it’s not even push-pull but I know what he’s doing to try to illicit conversation from me and I’m more annoyed than anything.

I talked to both Dan and Kev about possibly going to Dubai and both were pissed at me. I really don’t think they understand it from my point of view. I either seem incredibly opportunistic and like I’m using David for lodging or stupid to walk back into that trap. Potentially both.

Whatever, though. I don’t have to make any decisions about it for a while. Maybe I’ll just let the invitation remain open well into 2010 and go to Dubai before I move back to the US. When else would I ever be able to go there and have a free place to stay with someone I know and trust and enjoy? Never.

Today marks four weeks since Chris dumped me. I am a fish without a bicycle.

Just that half a pound. Oh, well. A loss is a loss. Bring on the pies.




That’s 32.5 pounds lost since restarting my diet this year and a total of 66.5 pounds since my highest weight.

So, David wrote to me last Monday and I responded but he never answered my #1 question, which was: what happened with Dubai? So I wrote to him again yesterday, and he responded this time. Turns out he’s in Dubai right now, interviewing and finding out if he wants to move there. I invited myself to visit him if he does move there. His initial response was flirtatious; I flirted back; he wrote back today that it sounded good and we’d work out dates.

I know at least two men who will be very mad at me if I go visit David in Dubai. The first is Kev. Since I first talked to Kev about David, he has maintained that he’s bad news. Kev doesn’t even use his name when we talk about him—he’s FW for French Wanker.

The other is Dan. (Ok, the Scotsman might also be upset about it but he’s a harder read.) But Dan has a similar hatred for David. After being friends for well over a year, Dan also wants to date me, and we are planning to meet if/when I’m home for Christmas this year. I’m a little worried that Dan’s becoming too interested in me, given the distance between us. Plus, he hasn’t dated anyone since becoming single in February, when his wife of 16 years ended their marriage. He’s talked to a couple of women online, but both of his main interests turned psycho before they ever met face to face. He recently signed up for the big online matchmaking services—OK Cupid, Match.com, and eHarmony—but it’s too early to tell how those will work out for him.

I’m just worried for him that he’s going to fall in love with me and I don’t really have a Prague exit strategy. That’ll end badly for him. I want him to date and possibly find someone local, and if he happens to be single in December, we’ll meet (not that the December meeting is even a date but it won’t happen if he’s seeing someone because the time I’m allotting him is New Year’s Eve). Dan is probably the kind of man I should date—sweet, honest, loyal, and traditional. I’m certainly not opposed to it. But I’m not going to start dating someone now and certainly not someone I’m separated from by an ocean.

It’s possible that he likes me so much because I’m convenient—I know that sounds funny considering that he’s in the US and I’m in Europe, but I mean I’m easy to talk to and access in some capacity. He shouldn’t settle on me until he goes on some dates with other women.

Anyway, last night, he wrote me a really long email that basically amounts to a love letter, and it’s flattering and sweet, but I worry for him. And I won’t commit myself to him until we’ve met in person and I have some plan for moving back to the US. Otherwise, it’s silly. So he’s going to have to go with the flow, and I don’t know if he can.

I’ve told him that Kev invited me back to London in late October/early December and that the Scotsman will have me at any time after this coming weekend, when one of his friends is getting married. Both of these trips, I think, he can handle—Kev is a friend and the Scotsman honorable. But if I go to Dubai, he’ll be crushed. I wonder if I can avoid his feeling like that. It may not even be an issue.

In other news, I’m trying to sort out some documents I’ll need to take care of when I’m back in Illinois for Christmas. And I want to get my ticket booked before the price goes up any more. Which means I need to sort out all the travel I want to do before the end of the year so that I can figure out how many holidays I’ll have.

Potential trips: Switzerland with Caroline (and possibly others) at Halloween for a hash weekend; Brussels for their Christmas hash weekend in mid-December; Scotland to see the Scotsman (any time); London to hang out with Kev in late October or early November; Dubai to see the city and David (any time). I need to pick and choose.

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.

I had a big cry over Chris on Monday night, but it ended suddenly when Kev contacted me on MSN. We talked for about an hour, and I felt completely restored after that.

I have a crush on Kev. He’s married, though, so it will never amount to anything. This is both good and bad, actually, because it will never amount to anything. On the one hand, having feelings for someone who doesn’t return them sucks. On the other, I don’t need a relationship right now, so this is better than pursuing an easy target.

I talked to him again last night for what will be the last time until he returns from a 3.5 week trip in the US. Again, good and bad. He cheers me up so I will miss him, but maybe his absence will help me to get rid of the crush.

Anyway, I was up until nearly 3 am last night and I woke up again around 6 with abdominal pain similar to taking a bullet. I assume, anyway. I knew that it would eventually go away so I just rolled myself into the most comfortable position and waited it out, but it did make me wonder what I would do if I were ever really sick and how would I know?

That’s a scary thing about living alone. When I was 11, I had to write my own obituary for class. Most everyone wrote about having grandchildren and dying of old age. In mine, I was an unmarried, childless spinster who died alone at home when she choked on a piece of food. Age 35.

My teacher thought it was sad; I thought it reflected my desire to never get old and never turn into my parents. I no longer think that turning into my parents is such a ghastly fate. Dying because I am alone and can’t fend for myself in even the most minor medical emergency sounds just a bit more tragic.

I’ve been talking quite a bit lately with the Scotsman, who may soon get to reclaim his name here, because Austrian Chris is a twat. The Scotsman wants us to get back together and has made this very clear. I am, however, not ready to date. Last night, I was thinking about this and how I’ve been approached by a few men and I keep brushing off their advances because the thought of building a new relationship (only to have it crumble the way that mine and Austrian Chris Twat’s or ACT’s did) exhausts me. With the exception of Kev, with whom a friendship already existed and only a friendship is a possibility, the only men with whom I have any interest in communicating are those who I only see (want?) as friends.

This is a problem, though, because the Scotsman is extremely interested in me, and it sort of made me aware of the kind of dumbfuckery that Chris promoted and that many men believe, which is that you can never be friends with a woman you’re interested in. There is, possibly, a certain amount of truth in it. While I’m talking to the Scotsman because he is safe and warm and someone I really like, he sees all the time he’s putting in with me as a sort of insurance: he talks me through my breakup and then, when I’m read to date again, he’s obviously the first choice. Dumbfuck misogynists say that I’ll pick another jerk, though, and that the Scotsman is wasting his time (actually, a reversal of this could be seen in my relationship with David—I invested time and feelings and gave him what, I thought, he was looking for, but I was not a proper choice for a girlfriend).

I refuse to prove this theory true, though. Thus, I told the Scotsman last night that I am not ready for a relationship because I feel damaged by the last one, and I told him that it isn’t fair of me to ask him for anything because I know what he hopes to gain from it. He told me that he can’t help how much he wants me and how he loves the way I make him feel. Basically, he got out of it what he wanted to hear.

Moving on...

I’ve been able to take some time for myself and am working on reading Henry Miller's Tropic of Capricorn. I can’t decide yet if I like it or not but Miller's style and language are like nothing I’ve read in a very long time, so it’s wonderful and inspiring and definitely needed.

Everything has been up and down, up and down. London was amazing (although up and down, up and down). I loved the tiny bit of the city that I saw but hardly saw anything at all. It was also great to see Kev, but the most valuable time was probably that which I spent alone.

I saw a musical in the West End, which is something I have dreamed of doing for at least 15 years. It was a rather shitty show, but I still loved it and bought the CD. That, along with being in an English-speaking country for the first time in two years where people were so exquisitely friendly, along with the absolute beauty and energy of that place I have wanted to go for so long, helped me to refocus.

I thought about how I’ve lost my way and spent too much time trying to find a man to satisfy me. I thought about what I want out of life on my own and who I want to be. I thought about what makes me happy, independent of others. I thought about killing myself, about my family, my job, my life in Prague, David, and Chris. I thought about where I want to be. I felt empty most of the time but also like I had a lot of work ahead of me—an overwhelming feeling, but not a bad one.

I returned to Prague and was back at work on Friday, where I used my lunch hour to read a new book I picked up in London.

That evening, after eight silent days, Chris contacted me on Skype. I begrudgingly answered. He opened up and told me that he missed me and that I was an amazing girlfriend. He admitted that he thought I had made him unhappy but he realizes now that wasn’t true. He portrayed himself as someone who hates himself, as someone who will spend the rest of his life molding himself into someone else. It made me feel good about myself and sorry for him.

In the morning, though, I wished we hadn’t spoken and got on Skype to say that it still wasn’t a good idea to try to be friends. Either because of my change in mood or because he was puffed up from being out all night doing his pickup artist thing, he slammed me, running through the list of things he hates about me, saying that he remembered why he dumped me, and how I’d have to work harder if I wanted him back (huh?), because I was competing with his new lifestyle. He mentioned something about two girls fighting over him the night before.

All the healing from the eight days of silence was gone, and I hated him as though he had just broken my heart all over again.

Also, at some point (one of the friendlier portions of the conversation, obviously), he said that I could come down to Vienna and sleep with him, but there’d be no promise of a relationship. Purely for sex. But then he thought better of it and said that wasn’t a good idea.

Against my better judgment, I ended the conversation by offering him a fresh start and a new chance at friendship when we next spoke. I then went and met four other girls (including Sophia and Caroline) to go paddleboating on the river. We went from there to a festival where we had dinner, drank beer, and shared two bottles of wine. From there, it was off to a club for more cocktails with a couple of guys who tried to pick up one of the other girls, but we split around midnight because only one of us was dressed for clubbing.

Sunday morning, I was online on Skype and Chris contacted me again to say hello. I literally said only a couple of things before he responded that he was busy doing something and implied that I was annoying for trying to talk to him. Again, he contacted ME. Turns out he was trying to download Inglourious Basterds so we could watch it together and, when he managed to find what he was looking for, he triumphantly proclaimed, “See what I can get done when you aren’t pestering me?” Or something like that.

So that kicked off another brutal conversation but he did make occasional kind comments. Like he said that it was especially nice to be loved by me because my love is true and pure from a warm heart. And we ended the conversation pleasantly when I left to go see a movie with my friends. And I thought about him a lot through the movie.

I know that I am still in love with him and what I want is for him to take me back. But I want the kind of relationship we were never capable of having, and I don’t want to question whether I am enough for him.

Also, he left me. He could not have had his choices better outlined: stay with me and have a life much like he was experiencing or return to the life he had before he ever knew me. He chose to go back to what he had before. It wasn’t a choice of an unknown opportunity. It was a choice to erase me. And even if he tells me that he misses me and asks for me back, it will not undo this. As he said, I am competing with his pickup lifestyle. I was always competing. I lost.

When I got home later, I blocked him on Skype. He’s off of Facebook and now he can’t contact me on Skype. If he wants to contact me, he’ll have to call, text, or email. He almost certainly won’t call and texts and emails are easy to deflect.

As of now, I’ve avoided advances by three men who have tried to date me in the past couple of weeks. This includes the Czech guy I nearly had a date with, that ever-present other French guy, and some other guy who is remarkably persistent. I’m not interested. In anyone.

This morning, I received a Facebook message from David. As I wrote to Dan, he wrote to say that “he's settling into Brussels and to see how I'm doing. I'm very surprised because, even though he wrote that he was ‘sure our paths will cross again,’ I thought it was mere politeness.
I'm guessing he's going to ask me to visit and sleep with him. (I know him well enough by now to know that he always sends an introductory ‘how are you’ kind of thing before coming out with what he wants.)”

I got a definite high from hearing from him, but not having to encounter him and ignoring his activities on Facebook has made it easy for me to get over him. Still, if he ends up moving to Dubai in October/November, I may visit him because it’s fucking Dubai.

But I’ll try not to think about it too much. For now, I’m trying to focus on those glorious visions I had in London—visions of a happy, self-sufficient Kate. Getting out of this rut and making something of myself will probably be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I am ready for this.

No one will remember this but I wrote last summer about going on a lovely first date with a French guy named Renaud. We met one Saturday afternoon and had espresso and baguettes along with a nice conversation for a couple of hours, and then we parted with cheek kisses. He told me that we should meet up the following weekend and told me where and which day.

But before the weekend rolled around, he canceled on me, saying he had a friend in town. We exchanged a few emails and then he stopped responding, and so I stopped. He contacted me again a couple of weeks later and we emailed a few times and then that stopped.

Fast forward some 9-10 months and he writes to me out of the blue to say that he saw me on a tram and that I got off at the stop near my apartment (he named the stop; he doesn’t actually know where I live, although maybe he does now). He said he was in the other compartment of the tram so he couldn’t say hello.

And then the communication stopped again. Is this not weird as hell?

Speaking of Frenchmen, David has been in the US for about two weeks. He wrote to me yesterday saying that he was in no rush to come back to Prague (hmm?) but that he was looking forward to see me when he returns. I last saw him the day before I went to the Netherlands, so it’s been three weeks since I last saw him. I think it’s for the best. I’ve given more consideration to his weight loss proposal, and I sort of wonder who he thinks he is to make such demands of me.

Chris and I hit the eight-month mark this past week. I had a realization recently that we’re very much a couple in the sense that it would take a lot to break us up. We’re both committed to the idea of being together. We have lots of issues that need to be resolved but neither of us is going to throw our hands up and say we can’t deal with them; we’re going to work them out or at least try. Of course, I get frustrated easily, but I always come back because I love him.

As for our open relationship, I’m not really sure where we stand on it at the moment and I don’t want to bring it up for a while. Last Thursday, I thought I managed to get him to agree to close it, but he was resentful about it. He said I had “won the battle,” which isn’t sufficient for me. I want him to understand that it’s perfectly normal to expect fidelity and monogamy. I may not respect myself a lot but I respect myself enough that I will not share him with other women. He now knows that I would leave him if he attempted this. I said that maybe, somehow there exists a compromise that would make us both happy but I don’t know what that is. (In my head, I’m imagining the occasional one-night stand which sounds much better than the compromise he offered to me when he agreed to leave the “seduction community”—that he would have a handful of female friends who he would occasionally sleep with and hang out with but my response to that was, “How am I any different?” Supposedly I would have more priority than the others and he’d love me more. It sort of reminds me of Mormon polygamy, where the first wife has more status but, at the end of the day, you’re a woman sharing her husband. And that is not at all for me. It was this idea of his that prompted me to really push to close the relationship last week.)

We also had a very recent discussion about my moving to Vienna and he’s still terrified at the thought of me living in the same city as him. So I gave him something like an ultimatum today. I said that I plan to leave Prague in about a year. In 6-9 months, I will start planning for that move. I will first consider moving to Vienna. If he doesn’t think he could handle living in the same city as me after we have been together for over a year (and when I move, it’ll be well past a year and a half), then clearly the relationship has no future and I will move on. I will likely go to the UK or back to the US.

He’s going to be pretty upset when 6-9 months roll around and I actually go through with this. He probably thinks he can keep me in Prague for a while longer or get me to go to Bratislava, which is much closer to Vienna, but still far enough that we could only see each other on the weekends. Well, it’s not going to happen. I called his bluff twice in the past couple of months, and he chose me over pickup and me over fucking other women. I don’t know if he’ll choose the horror of having me live within 20-30 minutes of him over being alone, but if he can’t, I don’t want him either.

There’s a new guy in my office who is only working two days a week on a project for one of my coworkers, and I think he's only here for a month or two. Anyway, yesterday was his second day, and we talked for a little bit in the kitchen and it became obvious to me that he was going to ask me out.

How did I know this? Because we were talking about how I came to live in the Czech Republic and I gave him my canned answer of visiting Caroline and wanting to stay because I fell in love with Prague.

"You mean, you fell in love with a Czech guy," he said. And I told him no, that wasn't part of my story. But slipping in the boyfriend question made his intentions completely clear. The problem, though, is that I’m too shy to say, “No, but I do have an Austrian boyfriend.”

Besides, he should know better. I’ve been here for a year and a half, so, even if I had fallen in love with a Czech, it wouldn’t mean that we were still together. Plus, this is such an expat city, so I could’ve fallen in love with a Brit or a Bulgarian or a Hungarian. It was sloppy investigative work on his part!

That said, I am largely to blame for the way that I answered that question, and I need to work on that.

Anyway, I came into work today and the new guy had left me a note on my desk with his email address. And even though I knew it was coming and even though I think it’s sweet and flattering, it’s an awkward situation that I would’ve liked to avoid (and could’ve avoided had I told him I had a boyfriend!).

So, I emailed Chris about it, in part because I knew he’d be entertained by the story and also because I don’t know how to deal with it. Plus I used the opportunity to broach the subject of how you can turn someone who is interested in dating you into a friend, just for the sake of conversation. A recent Savage Love column dealt with the topic: a gay guy wrote in, saying, "Waaah! I just moved to a new city and I can't make friends because all the guys who want to hang out with me want to date me!" and Dan Savage answered, "Dude, stop trying to be friends with people who are sexually attracted to you. That's the problem."

Which means that I see guys like my new coworker and think, “Hey, he’s into me! We can be friends!” But, to the guy, it’s just insulting. So I should just reject him outright and let it go! But, easier said than done.