Jay and two bits of luggage #3 – You’re so shy compared to these Australian folk!

Wow, she’s a colourful one. Oh, I can’t approach her. I need to get to this restaurant.

Oh there she goes. Cute as well. Oh, shame. Now let’s see where this restaurant is.. so I turn right here and..

What, is that her again? Maybe she’s looking for the same restaurant. Damn she’s cute.

For fuck’s sake man. Where are your balls. This is getting weird. Just go tell her that she’s cute!



She was Serbian. She had the most contagious smile. She was so incredibly cute. And SHE WAS NOT SINGLE! *dies* As a positive note, though, she reminded me of how easy it is to talk to someone on YOUR wavelength.

So I’m slowly getting over my approach anxiety. Slowly. Slowly starting to understand who I wish to approach, who is just meh, and who is just an excuse to not approach. Slowly. It’s a slow process. But it’s a process, nonetheless. I’m yet to take one of these days and just do pranks and talk to everyone I see. It’s much more of a Finnish stoic style for me – approach everyone who tickles your fancy. Which isn’t everyone.

I’ve imploded my tiny little brain from this blogging-course. Brainstorming audiences, brainstorming topics, brainstorming how audiences think of topics.. It requires some heavy duty creative work, let me tell you. Today I got around to visiting a local spa to clear my head. I dunno if it worked, but at least I got a few fresh ideas. And experiencing an outdoor pool, clear skies and sunshine, and girls in bikinis .. in the middle of fucking winter? Something a small boy from Finland doesn’t exactly see every day.

This blog thing though – it’s something special. Sure, I’ve done diary blogs and dumbass business attempts in the past, but this is something totally different. I hope I don’t fall behind, the others seem to grasp it better than I do! I even bought tickets to a course conference in Florida. I’m not sure if it’s to prove to myself that I can do this, or because I believe in myself enough that I can invest so much time and money in this.

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In any case, it WILL happen. This is what I was meant to do. Steve Pavlina said to write down stuff you want to do until you break down in tears – that’s your life purpose. For me that was freeing people from the slavery of societal norms and pressure. Sure, watching 12 Years as a Slave helped. But that’s what it needed.

Another International Meeting Point, another interesting night. Met some familiar faces and some unfamiliar faces as well. It’s funny how easily you can create a presence in a room just by talking with people. “This guy knows everyone! Everyone seems to have fun with this guy!” I didn’t even realize what was happening until a familiar face from the last meet was playing eye games with me. She was cute. So I played along.

She smiled a lot. I like smily and quirky people. And brunette as well, which is always a plus in my book. But what’s this? There were two of them. Two women. Both hot in different ways. Both amazing and interesting.. and both with a slight interest in me and my odd little world. Now I’ve had enough of games and playing and whatever to last a lifetime, and I enjoyed the company of these fine women. What do you do in this situation?

You take a deep breath and chill out.

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I was interested in getting to know these people. Anything else was a friggin’ bonus. Not that I’d be a passive ass. I totally took iniative and made sure everyone had a damn good time. But I will not need anything from anyone. On a certain dancefloor I had a close time with the other of these women, a cherry blonde with a hot ass and quirky outlook on life. Which was fun. But I wanted to get to know her.

Yeah, I’m a sentimental fool like that.

I’d rather not get anywhere than make some crappy one night stand with someone I don’t know. This is entirely incomprehensible to most people. Now, don’t get me wrong. Sex is fun, and I won’t shy away from making my intentions clear. But only with the right person. And having said that, I’ll take an awesome conversation over sex any time. Now don’t kill me Ryan, I think an awesome conversation more or less leads to sex. But I’ve yet to find awesome sex without an awesome connection beneath. And sex without it being awesome is just boring.

Two days pass, and the cherry blonde hasn’t exactly been enthusiastic about meeting me again. Now far be it from me to presume to know what goes on in other people’s heads, but I’d be rather surprised if she hadn’t gotten some wicked buyer’s remorse* from that night! And don’t get me wrong, I think it’s kinda cute, and I can’t not see the funny. But rather a shame if we never see again because of that. This is exactly why I don’t peddle into the nightgame-realm: people have got their heads so cluttered with booze, group pressure, and social norms, that it turns into a manipulation game.

A game which I don’t play. So I’ll just drop a message to her next week.

In any case. I had a great time. These people were amazing. And I hope to see them again.

..

Gah who am I kidding. I totally want these women naked in my bed.





*Buyer’s remorse

I don’t usually delve into the pickup-lingo, but I kinda like this particular term, since it describes the feeling so well. It’s like buying a new car. First you feel so enthusiastic and hyped up about how awesome and cool the new car is in the showroom. You feel like your world is complete because you are now able to buy this car. You’d be willing to sell your house just to finance this car.



But you go home in your old car, because a slight bit of sense kept you from making rash financial decisions. The next day you feel like you’re coming down from an emotional high. Into a slight hangover, even. You can’t see the car for its magnificence anymore. All you see are the downsides to the equation. You may even begin to resent the idea of buying this new car. The damn thing, it tried to cheat you into a stupid decision!



That’s why salesmen hate the idea of a customer coming back later, and they want a signature immediately.



That’s why you don’t kiss and fondle a girl on the dance floor without taking her home immediately.

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