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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And I've got to tell them that I am a touch titschy. :)

I'm going to tell you in advance that I am half awake, self-obsessed (as usual), and that this is going to be a rambling entry. You know, I realize what a gift this trip has been. I logged into my email and the dating site system had sent me a nudge from some guy who was getting impatient that I hadn't responded to his communication. I mean, I have written in the first line of my profile, with stars on it, that I am in Italy from May 5-17. So this guy had sent me multiple communications in the last couple of days, and, really, if you are that impatient...oh lordy...take a chill pill. So I deleted him.

Anyhow. That was a detour. What this trip made me realize is that I doing things all wrong! In every way. First, I am living in the wrong city and doing the wrong job. I am not sure that I can do anything about that. I mean, I suppose that long term I could but short term no. Or maybe I should think about it. Maybe I SHOULD be willing to move away somewhere if I were to meet someone.

So, the project should really be thinking long and hard about how to start living more of my dream *life* and my dream *job*. I really need to invest some time in this, even if it means that I need to go back to school to get yet another qualification. There's got to be something that I could do that would *build* on my economics. My savings given all of the prior schooling are really quite pitiful though, and I'd be a bit of a looney to give up my pension.

So there are lots of issues at stake here. I mean, it comes back to dating, although the dating is not really the issue. The thing is that I realized this morning that the dating is going sideways because I cannot possibly meet the right man for me when I am in the completely wrong milieu.

That is not to say that there is no one in Ottawa who could possibly be good for me. It just seems unlikely. Honestly, I sort of doubt that there is anyone in Canada for me, even, although that is stupid. In many ways Canada is the perfect country for me to be *from*.

You see, I realized as I woke up this morning and saw the light peaking in through the open shutters in my bedroom, tiptoed out of bed in my little ballet slippers to the window, watched the dawn streak across the sky above the rooftops of Florence, that my two favourite countries have always been England and Italy. Italy for the passionate and incessant pursuit of beauty, and England for its system of governance, stiff upper lip stuff and its hedgehogs. Canada affords some of each. But it is too American in its work ethic.

You know, I think that three weeks of vacation a year - which is what I get and don't take - is totally pitiful. The Americans on the tour with whom I was talking the other day were totally shocked that I was here for two weeks and not one. I mean, don't you have to work?

The thing is that I don't really want to work. I mean, I love to work hard. But I just don't care enough about stuff to want to work all the time.

So it occurred to me that everything about my dating profile, not to mention my current work lifestyle, is wrong for me. What I need to find is someone with the same thinking processes and the same energy. Those are the only things that I should be talking about.

Yes, on the surface, I want to settle down. And yes, I don't want to end up with a guy who is either too silly or too cowardly or too confused to be able to earn a good income and plan at least somewhat for the future.

Aside: OH good lord there is a woman sitting beside me with the longest fingernails who is literally hammering the keyboard in order to type a simple email. It is VERY annoying. My god.

Anyhow. So moving on. Blighty had it right. I need pictures of me out bicycling in Italy. I need picture of me maybe in the mountains or on the bike or running in the woods, or playing with my parents' dog. And then I need a picture of me in a nice dress enjoying the sunset over the Arno, with a big, impish smirk all over my face. You know, self-satisfied, like.

:)

Learning how to represent yourself is a problem. I only realize it now. I mean, in my profile I mention that the last book I read was the Decameron in the lead up to my trip to Italy, because I think that stories of Black Death and randy monk sex in the 14th century are a bit of a good tonic to life in the big O...so they are getting a flavour (maybe that's why so many of my matches are deleting me :)), but I really need to make it explicit that I'm probably not looking for the same life as most people on there. That is not to criticise their lives, but rather to make explicit who I am.

So I think what I need to say is that I'm more interested in experience than stuff. I'm looking for someone who is grounded and steady but who wants to make his own course, who craves adventure.

OK. Crazy Cruella next to me is driving me mental. And her perfume makes me want to heave...I need to move...

I'm so persnickety!

Anyhow. I am sure that you are INCREDIBLY bored with my dating stories. I just realized this morning that the thing is that I don't want the same things as other people. I need to be honest about that. If I have a house, for example, it will be a small country house or a tiny fixer-upper that I can gut, that sits in a "bad" area of town. Even the bad areas of Ottawa are laughable in terms of their badness, except of course perhaps Vani3r. But I'm not going to move there. But no suburbs, please. I really need to write that in my profile. Let's be honest - I'm more likely to live in a cardboard box under the Lauri3r street bridge than to move to a place called K@nata that actually used to have a BYLAW preventing one from colouring one's garage door something other than one of two colours, I believe. I can't remember the exact law. But when I go to that suburb to meet people I feel more certain than ever any other time or anywhere else that this is WRONG, so WRONG. One cannot live in a place like this. And then one goes to the other side of town with its depressing, ugly bungalows...oy. No. I would even prefer to live in a beautiful apartment in an old house, even with a kid and a husband all piled up over one another, than live in a crummy house with a garage. No. I don't want that life. I want the life that is lived in European cities, although with the freedom of mobility that I have in Canada. See, perfect compromise.

And I hate shopping for furniture. I still haven't bought my sofa. I think I'm just going to lay down cushions and invite people over to sit on them. Actually, I think I might actually not even *like* furniture. OK, so I'm not THAT bohemian. In a way I'd like to be. But I'm not. So I've got to be honest about who I am and what I want. I'm starting to think that maybe I should apply to the diplomatic corps after all. Or maybe I'll start dating diplomats. But that doesn't seem quite right, either. I really don't know. I'm guessing that I'll know when I find the right choice for me. I haven't stumbled on it yet. If I had to completely FANTASIZE, I'd pick a guy who wanted to be an artist and to move to a Tuscan villa,but who had at one time ridden in the tour de France or the Guido d'Italia or something. Yeah, that would be dreamy. And he'd have the most excellent wink. He'd have a heart of magic. Of course he'd have to have a job to support this, and so would I - no crazy guys permitted, still...

For now I want to suck up what I still can of Firenze. That should be the material point. Really, it ought to be. I'm going to go to breakfast and make a list of all of teh things I have yet to do. Tomorrow, for example, I need to get up at dawn to run along the ARno and over to San Mineato t watch the sun rise over the Duomo. I'd like to swim across the Arno, but I realize that that would be taking my life into my own hands. :) I suppose I'll have to settle for running to Signa and then jumping in the pool at the end. And tonight will be the Caribbean discotheque, if I'm not too tired. Tomorrow Santa Spirito - for SURE - and Santa Croce if it kills me. Friday the Uffizi. Tomorrow night there is a free concert by a famous Italian singer. I am going to wander the city. I hope I can find a male around this hostel who can act as my bodyguard, as I would like to wander the city nearly all night. Or at least until 2, since that is the curfew.

This is all good. I think I'm cycling in towards who I am and what I really want. I've been resting for a while, pretending that I am something that I am not. And we all know how successful that strategy is as a rule.

Chianti calls! And she is holding a bottle of Vin Santo with my name on it.

YOu know, if I ever marry some crazy fun guy, and even if I don't, I'm going to rent an Italian villa and have great parties...and you're all invited.

8:07 a.m. - 2008-05-14

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