Let me be really clear: I haven’t experienced the real „anxiety“, which people usually have before they go out with someone they fancy for the first time. I was nervous once, but in the end, they guy just texted: I was partying whole weekend. Do not have enough energy to give you my full attention. However, that’s completely different story.

Back to first date. I’m sure, you plan what to dress, how to impress one another, how to avoid the awkward small talk telling you nothing and get to real conversations which essentially tell you something about the one you are hopefully willing to kiss at your doorstep.

Should I pretend to be jollier than I really am? I am not a bubbly person. How do I prevent the silence or the cricket sound in the background?

I stand by the opinion that once you decided to devote your time and energy into the meeting, you should take from it all you can. Was he a complete snob? So what? You experienced it, didn’t like it and added to you secret list of thing you hate on the other sex. We all have the list of “I hate, I loathe, I love, I enjoy…”. Not necessarily the real written one, but at least the imaginary one.

I believe, first dates are big deal. They surely are. Feeling nervous, hands shaking, your vocal cords and tongue not willing to participate, et cetera, et cetera. I feel for the people going on dates. Oh, the sweetness of anticipation. Hope for the brand new relationship. Belief that this planet can still be a nice place to share a life with one another.

May all your first dates bring more light to the subject of who you are, who you want to become, and who you want to become that someone with.




Love just happened…

I’m happy and sad at the same moment. My good friend just agreed to try it out with the girl he wanted for some period of time. That’s nice that he was persistent. But the thing that bothers me the most is the most recent history. I do not care what she did or even who she did a couple of months. But on Saturday she made out as with him as with his good friend.

I am happy for him. That after 6 years of holding grudges and not wanting to commit and being refused by women just as he shared his bed with them, he finally did it and decided to do it. To be in a relationship. But why with her?

I’ve told him a couple of times already, that he has a poor choice of women. He argued they chose him and not the other way around. So why did he voluntarily chose a woman, who at first was willing to sacrifice a good and perspective relationship with HIM (trust me, he’d do anything for the woman of his choice) for 4 months of sex with Tavoy (her work and travel bouncer from the last summer)? This Tavoy guy must have been a really good lover because he was providing 4 more women with his services. And she knew it and she didn’t mind it and she wanted to do it again.

He is such amazing man! However, I do not think this relationship is a good idea, concerning his past with her friends. I just feel like I want to cry over his decision. I will support him, I even approve of his relationship, but I won’t be very happy about it. Even though I may feel like he’s making a mistake (just as I thought that the second time my sister started dating this guy who is now her fiancé), I am his friend and I was lucky enough to be the first one he told. I really appreciate and value him as a person, so I’ll cherish my relationship with him, no matter what.

Nevertheless, this just proved the everlasting and never-dying theory that in love anything is possible. Anything and everything can be forgiven and forgotten as soon as one is infatuated by someone. I am still startled and stunned by what can people do for those, who catch their romantic attention.

BUT! If she hurts him, I’ll hate the hell out of her!






One of my many concerns about friendship is how much information am I allowed to deliver from one friend to another without upsetting either of them. I do not mean like talking behind their backs and talking wrongly. Just simple chit-chats, something like He told me that….she wrote me that….I’ll show you a picture of them doing….

This stuff bothers me. This is enrooted I real situation:

Enjoying a nice evening with a couple of friends. We were talking about ourselves, mentioned our common friends, what went on in their lives. One of my girlfriends (not hanging out with us that night) had this thing going on with a boy. She told me stuff, asked for relationship advice (I am the one person you go to – we all know that the single people give single-handedly the best relationship advice!). I shared veeery little of this information, together with a photograph which was innocent (two people sitting next to each other) with the rest. She freaked the hell out and the text said: I’ll kill you.

I was taken aback and her reaction really startled me. I had that horrible feeling, that once again it was I who messed up, not her. I once again felt guilty and asked for forgiveness. It was given to me, but I paid by no other currency than by emotions.

I had a feeling I did nothing wrong, we had a good chuckle with the others and moved on with our evening. She wanted to dig deep and so she did.

But back to sharing: is there no sharing allowed when you want to discuss your experiences or conversations with someone else? How much is too much? Is showing a picture crossing the line?

You know, there are times when you cannot figure some of your friends’ behaviour out all by yourself. You need that second opinion. Other times even third. Maybe I’m just lousy at guessing and I do not know the borders. Maybe my friends are (over-)protective about their personal lives and want to share the info with just you. However, my common sense still hasn’t deteriorated and I use it from time-to-time. But it has that miraculous off switch once my boyfriend came around and ask those bloody nosey question. They are not bad. They just want to be part of the life you’re leading.

I won’t stop sharing the petty stuff. They make the conversations flowing, the time passing and create awesome associations with the lives of actual participants of the conversation. I’m a sharing person and do not mind my friend talking about me because I trust them (more or less) completely. Doubting them would do no good. I’d only hurt myself. And there’s enough pain in this world already.





As no relationship expert (see the previous entry), I feel I have the privilege, no the obligation! To write on the topic of labelling people depending on what’s going on between them. See how it works? The experts talking about the field they are interested in, but have no clue of the real deal! Nah, just kidding. I’m no expert, I just like to judge people based on their behaviour, look, facial expression and gestures. Sometimes I am so shallow, I wonder how the heck even got to such point.

Nevertheless, feeling the need to label people around me has long since passed.

If I like him and he likes me and we fool around are we in a relationship? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you just like spending your precious time with someone of your blood type with the benefit of an occasional kiss or long hug or feeling of belonging.

I would like to be her boyfriend but her legs are open for more man. She lives by the saying: sharing is caring. But we kiss and almost slept together a couple of times and we hang around and she is the no. 1 kisser. Are we in a relationship? First of all, if she’s “open” for a couple of dudes at the very same time, I would not really consider her a good girlfriend material, even though she is hot, best kisser and your certain body parts go stiff as she brushes your arm. You don’t want to fall for her, yet you got deep enough to feel the good of her. Secondly, I thought guys didn’t need the reassurance of being or not being in a relationship until they long not only for the physical attachment but also when emotions get involved.

Do we need to tell people she is my boyfriend, he is my girlfriend, and she is my BFF….? Isn’t it enough that you care about that particular person so much you introduce them to your other friends, family, and the world of the Internet? Only once in my life, I called my friend best friend and it wasn’t even to her face. I was just retelling my story to another friend. When I read her the conversation I was so ashamed I couldn’t even start reading, for I felt so vulnerable.

But maybe my disgust with labelling comes with the uneasiness connected with heart stuff which comes with verbal expression of feelings. I don’t tell people I care about them, I don’t tell them I think of you. For crying out loud I event respond to my mums I LOVE YOU differently than by nodding or saying I know or just thanking her. I am a horrible daughter!

One guy told me I have so much emotional potential. That I am like an uncut diamond in a need for the man to refine me. To some extent, I agree. So many emotions are hidden under the “ugly” shell of scruples, of life traumas and unhealable wounds.

However, I want to stay uncut. With so many edges reflecting so many different shades, magnitudes, and the brilliance of my personality.

So, label if you need to feel secure, do not if it kills you inside. It all comes from within. The surface will sooner or later abrade. The real labels given by people of importance and by your most amazing self will come shining.




HOW TO BECOME INSTANTLY DEPRESSED (by a very cheerfull event)?!

Let’s imagine a very real situation. Your only sister, who is older, should be wiser, definitely skinnier and far more experienced in the dating and relationship area announces you that her boyfriend, who you definitely do not find appealing or even consider a human being of any sex, thus genderless, finally proposed and they are engaged to get married.

You had no worries because everything will surely go well, your mother will have enough money to pay for a fair share of wedding expenses, you will have a gorgeous dress of any colour you like (no bridesmaid bullsh*t in my country with those hideous dresses!), awesome hairdo, comfy new heels.

Suddenly she reminds you, that you are permitted if not obliged to bring a plus one and it has to be a MAN!

Where the hell am I supposed to get one? Let me be clear: me and man? It was never a real deal. Some occasional flings, yes. Dating? Who would voluntarily go on a second, god-forbid, third date with such a mess as I am? Thus the real relationship thing had never occurred. Not yet.

To be fair to you, my fellow human beings, almost all of us (almost as I hate generalisations and nothing is applicable to anyone unless it’s connected with the very essence of being a member of species Homo sapiens sapiens) have at one point of their short or long lives came across a fellow human who was interested in more than being just friends. So what that you kissed? By knowing him all the romantic feelings, as well as the alcohol enhancing those “emotions” flushed down the toiled together with the vomit and the urine. Am I too harsh? Am I too straightforward? Well, that’s just me being me. I can’t really influence my very essence, or can I? Let’s leave this for some other self-pitying session.

He tries to know you better, initiates conversations, you discuss very deep and personal, even intimate issues. Yet, you can’t overcome the feeling, nothing more will ever happen. You just do not want it to happen.

But back to the wedding and your plus 1. You certainly want to bring someone to hold onto, since your high-heels time hasn’t come yet. You want someone to whisper how gorgeous you look, how not chubby you are, how well behaved sister and not at all drunk guest you ended up as. We ALL want that freaking +1!! Don’t we?

I can enjoy myself at the wedding perfectly well. I did it on all those weddings I’ve already attended as a teen and a respectable young adult. But now, when it’s HER wedding, I do not want to look like a loser in front of a whole family. (Not that I care too much about what they think of my relationship status).

Oh, Gosh! You have 18 months to get in shape (finally, as you are AGAIN near the look of a walrus), find the perfect dress to suit your personality as well as body shape (hopefully not one of a cone), and to find that “lucky” or even genuinely lucky man to accompany my precious self to THE wedding of the year 2017.