Thursday, 22 October 2009

What an adventurer needs

After a lot of travel this year and a number of amazing adventures. Can you blame a girl for wanting to runaway from the grey skylines of the UK. However, after a length of time with no decent men around to admire, I am happy to have some nice men to view. I thought I had my next adventure decided for me and though I have heard that Argentina is an amazing place to go, it was not the country which preoccupied my thoughts, but the host. Is it any wonder, travel often leads to going without fun for a stretch of time. You need a whole week to make up in order to recover. Why tango when you enjoy the result that the men in BA were longing for in bed. After numerous failed attempts and plans to get to some place or another to this host, it could only culminate in a farewell. However, I did post on a number of sites that I might visit soon and I was faced with a barrage of requests for things that other Brits abroad really miss.

Here is my list:
1 Sex – of course, you can’t rely on the presence of men in each place you go to. Or contemplate your colleagues, it is a small world

2 Marmite – even grown men weep at the lack of this brown sticky goo, so have I. Any guests in my next possible neighbourhoods (unknown at present) please bring this as a gift.

3 Well dressed and clean men. Thank you British men, most of you make some effort.

4 Western style toilets. Only women will understand this.

5 Baked beans, the best comfort food. Of all the nice restaurants I have managed to go to in the UK and abroad, I still adore Heinz.

6 Lastly, the English language. As much as I try to communicate in a range of other languages, it is nice to be understood and display some social skills. But this remains an occupational hazard for me.

In spite of this, I am still buzzing away to find the next place on my list. I have a much larger list of things that I don’t mind going without when I have adventures.

Three monkeys and the 'New Age'.

Having recently and inadvertently become a fag’s hag, which is a terrible term as I am actually very nice. I have been to a few gay clubs recently. Every time I go, something odd happens. The first time, I seem to have somewhat drunkenly converted myself, but I do not have the memories to match my friends’ tales of the night. The second time in a much more sober and sensible fashion, I went to the same club, only for it to set alight after a drag queen’s act. Seems the EU has done something right with making sure materials in public places don’t just blow up. Everyone is now aware of my thoughts about Russian men, but I was starting to think, even gay Russian men are not nice.

Until, I went to a different club in the city. Now I am wishing to be reincarnated as a gay man. Don’t be mistaken, I love being a woman, it has so many advantages and I would not had the position I have now otherwise. But I have never seen cheek bones or muscles like it, and I am not automatically a fan of muscles. It is well documented I like smart men, but in this place all you can do is look. However there was a member of our group who is straight. It took some convincing that he would not be groped and that there are lots of women that go to such clubs. After all I was going! So it was agreed I would help him to make it clear to gay men, that he is straight. Only this turned into an unwelcomed opportunity and frankly lazy attempt and excuse to get as close as possible. Of course attention is always supported, but lazy attention is just a turn off.

Then, to add insult to the unavailability of any decent men in Moscow, I managed to meet one at a dinner party. I walked into a dinner party and instantly spotted this particular gentleman, and enquired about him. I found out that he was Norwegian, and his name, and yes, he was wearing glasses, and no sign of alcoholism. As luck would have it we said a fairly brief and a hopefully prosaic ‘hi’. During the evening, as I sat with various friends around the table, we began an uncomfortable staring game. But alas, a chat later that night revealed that he was going home the next day. So knowing the conversation would be fruitless, no romantic meals etc, I did something fairly candid. I decided to just tell the guy I thought he was one of the most attractive men I have met in Moscow, and it is a shame he is going home, and finished the conversation there. I am sure he and most other men are not frequently given compliments by women and it was really fun to do so. I think women should do it more often and it is my new objective. But on the upside, my last trip out to the gay club ended up with a girl giving me her number. Later that night, she even returned to give me her number again, in case she had made a mistake. Perhaps now is the chance to fulfil a prophecy I made late last year.