A Very Animated Evening

So, I met someone on Saturday night. And he was lovely. He is lovely. Lovely enough that I felt inspired to write about him. Probably because I've had such incredibly bad luck over here when it comes to all things man related, he really was a breath of fresh air. But first of all, a recap of all of the shit I've been through since being in this fair country:

• First guy I met over here, let's call him Mr. Zodiac. We meet on a very drunken night out. He follows me around all night. We kiss. He follows me all the way to a cab to my house. I'm very shocked when I turn to find him getting out too, but can't be bothered arguing. Turns out it was well worth the inconvenience, even if he was not my traditional type. We have a few dates, a lot of epic 'tea,' and then, out of the blue, nothing. I didn't bother chasing him. Six months later I receive a text. We start something up again, see each other for a month or so, then, bang, 'Sorry, I'm getting back together with my ex' (who, incidentally, unless he cheated on her with me, he couldn't have been with for more than six months). Rage. 
• Second guy I met over here, Mr. Dishy. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, in a way that only an Irish man can be. Snogtastic date (best kisser ever, sadly enough). Then, nothing. Rage.
• Third guy I met, Sad Sack. Nice looking youngish guy, completely down on himself and the world. Didn't hear from him again. Indifference.
• Fourth guy, the Non-Starter. I've touched on this one previously. Two months of dates and Darcy gentlemanly manners. No sex. None. Not a chance in hell of getting it to work. Insecurity.
• Fifth guy. Dell Dealer. Possibly the funniest of my tales. Met him on the side of the road when trudging home from the pub in the first snow, very romantic etc. The next weekend he invites himself over for 'tea.' Again, it's like getting blood from a stone over here, so I acquiesced. He arrives, and pushes me into my room whilst the kettle is boiling (note to all female travellers- in Ireland tea means sex). I turn for a minute to close the curtains and when I turn back his pants are off. He jumps on me, I'm still fully dressed at this stage. After making out for a few minutes he leaps off me and declares that he can't do this, he has a girlfriend. He then proceeds to ask me for relationship advice, professes his undying love for his lucky lady, and then offers me a Dell, seeing as he works for them, in return for my silence should I ever see him on the street with her. I didn't take the computer. I should have. Dell Dealer proceeded to contact me twice more in the coming fortnight, trying to get back inside. It didn't happen. Mild amusement. 
• The sixth guy. Pharmacist (more affectionately known as Crazytown). I met him when I had just started seeing Mr. Zodiac again, but he was far too cute to pass up. The morning after he offers me a cocktail of drugs, including Valium. I take a painkiller for my splitting hangover headache, thinking it will be sort of like Panadol, and am later informed by Crazytown that it is pretty strong and that I would probably feel a bit 'mong' for the rest of the day. Mong was the right word, I was out of it, even eight hours later when Mr. Zodiac arrived for an afternoon tea date. 

I picked Mr. Zodiac over Crazytown, thinking it would be the more sensible, reliable choice. Bad idea. When that went balls up I decided to go on a Man Ban. The rules of the Man Ban are simple enough. Don't pursue men. If they come to you and you're interested, you don't have to say no, but you're not allowed to participate in the chase.

Which brings me to Saturday, and The Animator. I met him in Coppers, the scene of many a crime. Coppers is the late club you go to if you're looking to 'shift' and get a 'ride.' I did both of these things on Saturday. I noticed the group The Animator belonged to first of all because they were all exceptionally tall for Irish men, and secondly because his friend, Dr. Nick, was amazingly, excruciatingly good looking. Dr. Nick was taken, and The Animator, also a very nice looking boy, was chatting away to me. Suddenly he literally jumped forward about fifty centimetres to kiss me. It was a shock, but a very nice one! I ended up going home with him (again, blood from a stone), and he was talking a whole lot of crap in the cab:

TA- That's the building I work in. We're having a work party there next weekend. I'm going to take you. (Silence)

TA- Would you rather settle in Dublin or Sydney?

BJB- I don't really have a choice

TA- Yeah, but if you did have the choice?

TA- Please tell me you don't have a boyfriend

BJB- Of course I don't, do you have girlfriend?

TA- I don't, but I'm working on it

If these were lines, very cute. But he really didn't need lines, he already had me. This was definitely the best experience with a guy that I've had since I've been in Ireland. He was sweet, attentive, and funny, and he restored my faith in Irish men. He has my number, so I guess it's just a waiting game now. I'm hoping he'll contact me, but even if he doesn't, it's a nice way to end things before I start my Man Ban.

Did I mention that he was also an artist? Sexual fantasy box ticked. 

Happily yours,

B. J. Barnes

Itching For A Fight

So, this is partially about how it was I came to be here in Ireland, but more generally about what I want and need at this time in my life. At the end of 2008 I was on a sojourn in Melbourne to visit my very best friend. We were at a bar that we frequent, mainly due to its large proportion of travellers (ie. men with gorgeous accents), and whilst there I met a young gentleman called Danny (a very bad name for me). He was, unfortunately, not foreign, but, as luck would have it, he was from Sydney. We got along quite well and he took my number and contacted me upon my return to the harbour city. Some dates occurred, lovely, wonderful dates, and I thought that it might be going somewhere. It wasn't. He ended up doing the normal guy thing, avoiding me when he felt things were getting too much like a relationship, and I was devastated. Not so much because of him personally, but just generally. Too many men had done this to me, and I was at my wit's end. I was also in a very bad place with my ex-boyfriend/best friend/worst enemy. He had just left to go to Argentina for six months, having given me one week's notice of this. We were still on and off at this stage (he was like an addiction that I just couldn't shake), and I was slightly heartbroken that he didn't feel that he should share this fairly important information with me. I ended up making the journey back to my parents' house after work that day, and collapsing in a fit of tears at the top of the stairs. My parents were due to fly to Dublin in a month's time to visit my stepdad's family, and my mum immediately decided that the best thing for me at that point was to travel. So I found myself the next month flying into Dublin and, well, the rest, as they say, is history.

The bigger point of this story regards a story this young man called Danny told me. We got to talking one night about our exes and he told me all about his cheerleader ex girlfriend. They had broken up about a year previously, but it was clear he was still somewhat hung up on her (not that I could talk). He told me that after she ended it with him, he was heartbroken and ended up coming over to Europe for a few months with one of his brothers in an attempt to move on. It didn't work, and he told me how he would call her everyday from phone booths all over Europe. One of the stories he told me was about how he left the hostel at 2am to search for a phone booth because he knew she would be available to take his call at that time. He found one, after almost getting mugged, and she kept hanging up on him, but he kept calling. This might sound stalkerish to some, but to me, this is hopelessly, terribly, heartbreakingly romantic. 

And it brings me to this. What I want, more than anything in the world, is a man that will fight for me. That won't let go, no matter what I throw at him. Who could be in some of Europe's most beautiful, amazing cities, but who can't keep his mind off me. Once upon a time I didn't think it was that much to ask. I've watched guys that I've known uproot themselves entirely for the love of a woman. I always thought that when someone loves you, they would do anything at all. But, as I've grown older, I've realised that's not true. Someone can love you, but not be brave enough to risk it all. I want someone who is willing to take a risk for me, because I think that I'm worth a risk. However, I'm now at a point where I don't necessarily believe that this is going to happen. Or that anything is going to happen. Most guys my age or close to it are either in relationships, or not worth having. It is a depressing state of affairs really. I'll hold out hope though, it's all you can do at the end of the day. 

B. J. Barnes