one in a million
On Saturday, I met fellow blogger Johannes and his elder brother C. for a quick drink near overcrowded Mariahilfer Straße (see picture). What a gloomy threesome we were. Apart from the fact that C. had a severe headache and seemed rather zombified, we more or less progressed from "How's it going?" to "Hasn't his year been THE PITS?" in a matter of seconds. Apparently, this year has been pretty shitty for all of us and we swapped notes on just how traumatised we were from break-ups or (unrequited) love nipped in the bud, respectively. J.'s theory was that once you've turned thirty - which he hasn't yet - you become less discriminating. C. and I interrupted him, "No, the opposite is the case!" On second thought, I'm not so sure anymore as my grown-up mental checklist is somewhat flawed by a rather childish need for instant gratification and above all, reassurance. You know, never mind if he's a shithead if he convincingly tells me I'm the best thing since sliced bread (well, he's free to phrase that slightly more romantically, but you get the picture) and looks like he actually believes it, too.When I was younger, I firmly believed that happiness and coupled bliss were more or less reserved for good-looking people (and if it did happen to ugly ducklings, they should at least have the decency not to snog in public, thank you very much). That at least gave a mission to my teenage angst: Lose weight, cover your spots and magically grow cheek-bones that deserve the name and hey presto! Prince Charming will appear on your doorstep. In retrospect, I don't know what I'd have done without my unrequited pinings for obscure objects of my desire like "the guy from the bus stop" or "the heart-throb from class 5B", never mind all those singers and movie stars who'll never know that back in the 1980s a chubby Austrian teenager believed she was THE ONE for them. What would the Mermaid and my other, equally complex-laden and love-sick friends have talked about, if it hadn't been for endless discussions about our dire prospects to get a boyfriend. Obviously, it was a kind of perverted fishing for compliments, a top trumps for frustrated rejects, if you so wish.
Now C. is definitely one of the best-looking young men among my friends and acquaintances. And yet he's had several close shaves with psychopaths of the female persuasion and had his heart broken.
I haven't quite decided if I should find this worrying or comforting.
posted at 2:27 PM
6 Comments:
I am not sure if 30 is really such a milestone when it comes to being more or less choosy. One might be less choosy out of fear of not finding the right person at all, but on the other hand, one has a pretty good idea about the personal traits of potential partner and that makes one more choosy. At the end, it comes down to balancing both. And when it comes to age, I love the saying I recently saw somewhere:
"Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."
What about Mr.C? He seems like a nice enough guy. And maybe a great gal like you could heal his and her own broken heart!
I couldn't agree more with ka-ma about choosiness.
Apart from that, there are many spheres of life where one gets something great just because one hasn't really bothered to get it. I don't know if it works if one just simulates the nonchalance necessary to trick the god of good things, but maybe you could give it a try?
ka-ma, I shall remember that saying and you're right about the balance (which I seem to lack somewhat). Mr. C. is blatantly uninterested in (what's left of) my charms. Probably for the better.
alcessa, I definitely agree about the nonchalance and good things happening when you least expect them. I'm working on the nonchalance bit, but I can't say I'm expecting too much right now. Does pessimism count as nonchalance? I guess not...
I found out Ms. Centrifuga found out the majority of her visitors are single men. She is single, too.
It is probably difficult to trust anyone. Yourself.
Ms. Retailtherapist, you are of probably right about pessimism. Or it sounds as if you are. I can't really answer this question - I tend to say pessimistically "This can never happen to me" and then it does. Like, I pass the driving test at my ripe age and stuff.
But I do know a handsome Slovenian guy who is single, too.
it's probably a strangely masochistic mixture of both, worry and comfort.
Btw, I was quite flabbergasted by your stories of love found and lost (or unfound). just when you think you know all about this world...
i feel reminded of good old Shakespeare's quotation: "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all." By now, I tend to disagree. Which is not surprising, considering my failure record : )
Johannes, good old "Shakey" has a point as, after all, you cannot appreciate the good times if you haven't experienced the bad ones. The only catch is that no one gives you a guarantee that and if so, WHEN, the good times will eventually come, right? Here's to a 2007 without further notches on the failure record list for all of us!
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