The funny business with Danny Zuco

Tonight I am having a calm evening of self reflection and relaxation, i.e. eating M and Ms, practicing my gangam dancing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFkXT49dKz0&feature=g-all-u and wishing I had somebody to talk to. All day I've been filled with a need to blog out my frustrations and I've been looking forward to this moment so much. The last few entries I've been very aware that I have people who are reading it and who are reading it with certain expectations and hang ups and judgments and I'm worried I have compromised who I am in this blog. I don't want that. I am me. This is for me. This is basically my diary so when I say things here they're heartfelt. I am a peanut m and m, cracked open with my centre exposed.

For some reason, and this could be due to any number of things, I'm having a day today where I just feel like I've gotten stuck between a rut and a hard place. Maybe it's a distinct lack of plans this weekend, or the few tangible friendships I thought I'd built here feeling a bit imaginary at the minute, or maybe it's just one of those days, but I just feel like I am in major need of some time apart.

Anyway, this is probably making for a pretty rubbish blog entry so I will promptly stop thinking about things and tune out of myself, because I have had some funny moments in the last week. That's right, it's been almost a whole week since my last blog entry. I've been taking some time off. A vacation without any holiday days. And now I'm back...to let you know, I can really shake it down! (Sorry, accidental but necessary Dirty Dancing reference)

What has been pretty much a constant in my life for a number of years is the feeling that my life might actually just be an episode of awkward. If you haven't saw this television show, you're missing out. It's funny and true and nice and shocking and...well, awkward. It's one of my true pleasures in life at the minute to watch all the episodes. If you enjoy the awkwardness of my blog, you'll also love this show.

Yesterday evening, I went out for dinner with several of the people from the BIC (Basel Irish Club) in this lovely restaraunt in KleinBasel called Volkshaus. It was yummy (pretty pricey) but yummy (we didn't have to tip.) I had the wurst und kase salat mit pomme frites (sausage and cheese salad with chips) It's one of the local classics and reaaaallly nice, I love the sausages and the cheese over here so it was win win for me. If anybody asks me how I'm enjoying Switzerland, I usually answer along the lines of 'Cheese. Yum. Me likey.' I guess that's why people have stopped asking me how it's all going. Or asking me anything. This seems an ideal time to place an ironic saying :TGIF....

 
Anyway, while out for dinner, there was also a Swiss woman who was sitting with us. So, along the lines of asking politely 'Why are you with the Irish club' I was told a story. A very long story. With lots of background. And a pretty awkward ending. Basically, the short of it, she fell for an Irish man...there was 'funny business'...he was married....wife read a letter she wrote to him...all hell broke loose, or as she said it 'The s*** well and truly hit the fan.' You know, the usual story. She was quite a character. But there was weird moment when I was looking at her, and thinking, and reading her novel she set on the table. And thinking some more. Hold on, she was an au pair, she's now and author, she seems to have appallingly bad luck with any/all males: it's future me! And then I got very deep. I was thinking, is this an inevitable end result? Is there any way for me to change this? I don't want to be the eccentric older woman who is still relegated to being a passing fancy for a man, even when she is older and has children. But she still has no luck?? So I was having an early-20s crisis, and I could sense I was pushing the button on the bus, shouting 'let me off at this stop, I don't like where we're heading', but it wasn't stopping, and the more I pushed the button, the more I was becoming an eccentric maniac pushing a button. I already am that girl that people describe as 'funny'. Crap. Is it too late? Am I ever going to be able to escape this path? Will I have to acquire a cat with a name starting with Mr something, an eccentric plum smoking jacket and an abundance of clashing clothes which I wear defiantly in public occasions while I talk loudly over people? I don't really want to do any of these things but I don't know if I have a choice anymore. I've always been told I'm funny. I have already been served the death sentence.

Danny Zuco

Jess Mariano

At lunch today, a very funny and rather teenaged thing happened. It had been building up for a while. There is a building site directly ajoined to the house here. There is a builder who looks like a cross between Danny Zuco (Grease) and Jess Mariano (Gilmore Girls). Anyway, I've been eyeing him up every time he comes around to work, because there's never anything much to look at while I'm working, and it's nice that if I have to play Mummys and Babies constantly then at least I can look at some art while I'm there. Everytime I see him I hear 'I got chills, they're multiplying...and I'm loooooosing control'. I guess it's some sort of social justice that after all the years of womankind being wolf whistled at and ogled by pervy builders, that I can right the wrong by watching him work with pure delight. Anyway, he said 'Hi' to me this morning and gave me a wave and suddenly I was donning my black spandex and some pretty poodley curls and squishing a cigarette with my peep toe shoes and saying 'Tell me about it, stud' in a rather inexplicable way. So, then at lunch, we were eating outside, and I could barely contain myself from staring at him while I was eating my raspberries and the dad of the family said to me 'Careful, you'll hurt your neck' and then said 'I think you fancy him.' Well, I looked at him deadpan and said 'I think you're right.' Well, the silver lining to my incorrigibility, they're all calling him Danny now. I'm terrible...

This afternoon I went to the zoo with the kiddies, and you know who was there??? Fizzy Man!! If you don't remember, Fizzy Man is the imaginary boyfriend of the little girl who sometimes calls and texts her, except the scandalous thing is that apparently he is now my boyfriend yet continued to contact me through her phone. He's cheeky, our Fizzyman. Anyway, I had a creative afternoon of Fizzy Man spotting with the kids, and I had them convinced that he had been allowed to go swimming with the seals and had played a rousing game of football with them while he was there. They were very jealous.

So, there you have it, Fizzy Man and I have plans now to drink a carbonated drink and some Haribo sours..because both these things are fizzy. Like him.

We bid you adieu.