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enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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In which I am a bit touchy! And please do excuse the punctuation, especially near the end of this - major keyboard problems and I just gave up.

My dear friends, thank you for your kind notes!! You are the best!

I'm still having a glorious time, although yesterday was unfortunately a bit marred by fatigue. I just didn't sleep well enough the night before, and not to blame the Aussie guy but I kept on telling him that night that I needed to get in bed earlier...and yet as we were walking he kept on stopping to take photos, took too long at dinner. In the end I just didn't feel great yesterday.

But anyhow. Yesterday still turned out to be an interesting and revealing day. The trip was AMAZING. The countryside was spectacular. The ride was lovely.

But here's the thing. The Aus guy came on the tour as well. This was OK -he really is a lovely guy - but at the same time the sparks were flying between me and the guide. Crazy, I know. It was weird. Right from the minute we had this rhythm. We clicked. And what the hell does that mean? Nothing of course. I mean, what am I going to do? Have a fling with a biking tour guide?

And I learned again in any event that I am a TERRIBLE non-flirt, in that at the end the guide said about three times as I was parting with the A. guy - since I could see that he couldn't just come out with some sort of an invitation, "So I'll see you around." And he repeatedly kissed me on the cheeks. He kept on saying "one more time."

ACK. My opportunity was, of course, to say, "Email me. Or let me email you, and we'll go for a drink." I just don't do these things well. And, again, what the hell would I be doing, anyhow?

I know, "GET SOME IMAGINATION, EB!"

Anyhow. So I feel as though I should really not be thinking about boys, but rather reclaiming this trip again as the discover myself again journey that it was meant to be. And it really has been glorious.

Each morning I throw open the window to the shower and let all of the light stream in. And, not to embarrass you or anything, but I was standing there naked this morning and thinking, "My god I look healthy."

Italy is a wonderful country for that, and vacation is wonderful, isn't it? I sat there this morning thinking that I couldn't even remember what my office looks like. Do I even have an office? I had to do a double think yesterday when some boring people from Ottawa who were also on the bike tour asked me in what building do I work?

I mean, who asks that on vacation?

And, to be honest - and not to put down Americans here - but the Americans with whom I sat at lunch were very annoying. They kept on complaining about the food! (Who complains about the food in Italy???) They were complaining about the fact that the vegetables and things have to be ordered separately, i.e. that dishes all come separately rather than as a group. And then someone at our table actually complained that ordering coffee is too complicated!

I mean, get with the program!

And then the whole group - two families who knew each other - started talking about colleges. They asked me where I went to college. I told them and of course they didn't know, except for McGill. But then they went around the table talking about colleges, which, again, I thought was really weird given that...WE'RE ON A BIKE TOUR AND SITTING IN A LITTLE COUNTRY TRATTORIA IN ITALY, PEOPLE??

Again, not putting down all Americans, but why is it that so many are so fascinated by what college someone attended? I appreciate that it's a pecking order thing, but after a certain point it just seems a bit odd. I mean, if the answer is Ivy L3ague I'm sure that that's interesting. More interesting, however, is what people have to say, non?

So, again, I hope my American readers are still with me and not hating me by this point. And please let me tell yhou that I think that most Canadian travelers are boring and boorish, so it's not one-country slagging here..

So...I was sitting across the table from a couple of lawyers from Jacksonvill3, Florida. They were very nice people, but when I told them that I live in Ottawa they looked puzzled. They'd never heard of Ottawa! I mean, that's crazy. So I gently said, "It's the capital of Canada." And the man said - wait for it - "Is that near Vancouver?"

It took every muscle in my body to resist saying something to the effect of, "Yes, if you think that 4000 km is near!" (SMILE)

Honestly, they were a fun couple to be with on the tour, and that is all you can ask for. But still...I mean, really. I KNOW that Canada is not important. But how does one get through life on the same continent, in the same time zone even, not even having an inkling that it has a capital that is NOT on the west coast?

Anyhow. That is all OK. I am calm now. I think I just needed to vent. And I hope that you will forgive me my nastiness. The families were actually very nice, if a bit boring. They were all clapping when I made it up the big hill at the end of the tour, since they had all taken a ride in the van to the top. Only two guys attemped the hill and I passed both of them, but they were very good sports about it. Oh and the Aussie guy - lord he was trying hard, I must give him credit - tried the hill and ended up vomiting *twice* at the side of it. You have to give a guy points for trying to gut himself to impress, well...me. Why, I have no idea. Last night he kept on telling me that I am adorable. And I said that I had no idea what was adorable about persnickety, but somehow I seem to have bewitched this guy. It scares me, really, for I am rather not bewitching in the least, to which the sagging skin around my neck can attest (yes, I noticed that this morning, too). To be honest though, come to think of it, it's like with S. He was bewitched but then he woke up from the bewitching...I think that men often see something that they want to see in me but cannot handle, or maybe they just think they want what they see which is exactly what they see, but realize that they don't actually want exactly that. I don't think that I am an easy person to love. And maybe I set it up that way, make life difficult for people just because I can, or because I'm afraid. And then I take the easy way out with a Larry or someone similar. I recognize that those guys will never understand me or even try to understand me, and I kind of bask in having the affection with none of the exposure. Anyhow. Musing.

One of S's friends in Australia once explained it to me like this: "S. buys antiques because he thinks that that makes him sophisticated. But he doesn't know anything about them other than that they are expensive or that someone else has decided that they are worth having. He wants you as he wants another antique for his collection. He knows you're worth something but he has no understanding of why. I've never understood why you think so little of yourself that you would think you'd have to settle for a guy with so little understanding as S, much as I love him."


All is well and it is Italy and I am going to have a good day. You know, I suspect that this touchiness is all about the LACK OF S3X in my life. I mean, how could it not be, particularly when it is all spread before me like a cart of ripe pomegranates that I cannot afford. Actually, really, I realize at this point that it is probably as much as anything introvert spends too much time with other people fatigue." I must do something about that.

Ciao bellas!

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10:29 a.m. - 2008-05-09

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