Happiness is a cigar called flirting- Day 7

Dear humans,

It was worthwhile talking with friends about Tinder.

How it appears, it is a fashionable and handy way to meet singles and other interested parties in your neighborhood. Also it seems that you should keep it low profile; everybody seems to use it, but within the friend’s circles, it gets only to be whispered about.

As the friends list concerns, which app asks you to disclose, well it seems that app has a possibility to search if the person you might be chatting with, might be in a Facebook connection with one of your friends.

Kind-a handy, cause you can check with your Facebook friend, if the person in question is a psycho who is only accepted on your friend list, because he/she was threatening to disclose that your friend was also active on Tinder.

Other use of this is unknown.

Most of us have, anyhow, hundreds of Facebook friends we added when we were drunk or lonely, so we cannot put our hands in fire for people we do not really know.

I disclose my friends list (sorry friends), my location and my birth date. God knows what I have disclosed also; one day I might find a size on my underwear on Wiki leaks, but who cares.

(It is L, I’m Southern girl who is seldom hungry.)

I upload a nice photo of me, just out of hairdresser kind-a photo, with my eyes thoughtfully exploring the ground.

Not that I’m really searching for anything there, I’m just showing a submissive behavior, which according to some dating experts, is a sign that you like a person across you.

I open the list of available date’s in my neighborhood and …oh my dear Lord!! (Let me for a change call him Lord).

Being divorced is like being in a candy shop! All the time.

That of course, after one passed a bad patch, involving a lot of drama, like: my children will never know what a family is, I will never be loved from any other man/woman, I will forever go on the vacation alone, all my friends will leave following my ex, my sexual parts will dry from not using them….And so forth. You know what I mean? Too many always, never and forever. Drama.

One, of course, next to the drama, in a period of splitting up, had also real feelings:

  • sadness :“he took my high presser tales cleaner, how I’m going to clean my garden tales now?”,
  • fears : “I think I’m losing control and will kill him, with the neighbor’s watching”, and
  • anger: “it is totally OK to kill him”.

Well if you are divorced you know how overwhelming these feelings can be at the time.

Advice from a psychologist: Just take a deep breath and accept your feelings… and then let them go. Take a deep breath and accept and then let go.. It will pass.

Or kill him, if you like it better. Do not hold me responsible for your deeds; I was trying to calm you down.

Anyhow, you and your ex are now kind-a friends, meaning you downloaded and red around 1,5 GB of material about how anger is just killing you from inside, you should forgive people who hurt you, is best to be kind and respectful to any living creature, including your ex-partner, because you are all one..

Well we have been one, once upon the time, but we split, and nowadays I love trees and animals, better than him.

But since recently, I have decided to take advices and be new age spiritual. Before, I was a Buddhist, but it did not work out for me.

On the other hand, he decided to improve his psychological condition by attending smart seminars, you were talking about 3 centuries ago, in the hope that he will change enough that you accept him back. Or he got to be Buddhist, who knows?

So for now you are full of love and forgiveness and sometimes you even have time to speak with him on the door and to go and explore apps like Tinder. Life is good.

But let us go back in to my candy shop. A lot of very handsome man! A lot.. Most of them with their clothes on. Good.

And you can just sweep them left and right with the touch of your fingers. Fantastic! Who wouldn’t get addicted to this??

It reminds me on the step workout : back and forth and sweep, left and right and sweep. I swear to Lord, I’m already losing weight!

It is exciting this and one get to be inpatient. What is next??

Like reading a weekend novels when we were teens, you remember?

“The sky thickened, low and heavy, wrapping everything in an eerie, hot silence. Then the sky opened up…”

Who cares for the sky, give me some action! Sweep, sweep, sweep.

Wait a minute. It is too busy over here, and I really need to set some criteria. For example tattoo or not tattoo, glasses or no glasses, age??

First two, I do not really care about, but the age, what would be suitable age of a man, for young but mature women like me?

You could say 30 at lowest? But I see some younger hot-ies and think about the link I have recently posted on my page about benefits of having sex with a younger man.

https://www.facebook.com/Flirtingofmindsandmanners15

At the end why not set the bar very low? If I get his mum on my door, I can always answer kindly, that he is his own grown up person and that she needs to let go.

Or I can be mean and say that he is handsome on his dad obviously; and if she does not back up I will do his dad too.

Have you noticed, by the way, that being kind is never funny and mean well? Why is that?

Anyhow, back to candies, it seems that while I was choosing my sweets, very high percentage of man, have already given me his heart. (or swept me this side—–>)

I’m very attractive woman, I’m telling you.

Well, the day after, my male facebook friend kindly informed me that guys have a strategy to sweep right ———>, all the girls they see, and than talk only to attractive ones.

I notice also later, that not every guy who is matched with me, talks, or talks back to me, so maybe I’m not so attractive after all.

But I like leaning on the first impression about myself on internet.

I’m a very attractive woman!

Anyhow I pick one up to talk, he talks back, or other way around, can’t remember, and there we go. Dutch men flirting, existing category!

Well after 5 minutes I start watching TV as a parallel activity, because it takes him ages to reply, and I do easy get bored.

The reasons might be as follow:

  • His typing abilities are low profile, which means he does not spend much time on Tinder, otherwise he could type faster
  • He talks with very many girls at the same time
  • He is a philosopher, needs time to think what he wants to say.

Bored from waiting I sweep further around, only to find some Milk chocolate candy, The chocolate truffle, Cone-shaped candy, Nata de coco, Orange gelly candy, Gummi bears, Jordan almonds, Caramel candy, Hanukkag gelt, Saladitos, Mounds.. The world of sweets in The Hague :-).

I hope I will not get the Alzheimer, later in life, from all this sugar I’m consuming right now.

I pick 4 more to chat or they open the line and there we go. I talk simultaneously with 5 man in 2 languages, and I’m still having time to watch my movie.

Two of them bore me to death, 3 more to go. One get sleepy, two get to date me. One never confirms the date, one to go.

Well it is faster than going to the bar and waiting The Dutch man to approach you:-) And you can nicely sit at your own couch and watch the television.

Next day I talk with a bunch more, before I get a great deal unenthusiastic about internet dating. If one more time I have to say how many kids, where from, what for work …and wait for their replies, I think I will go nuts.

Internet dating obviously has its low points two. I’m starting to understand why some people have warnings on their profiles : “do not start a chat with me, if you do not have serious intention in dating someone”.

I totally do not get that girl, who had an experiment of 100 dates for six months and her repetition of the story about her time in Czechoslovakia all over again. That is sacrifice for a science, not this what I’m doing!

(I can not find the story again to show you, but if you do, please leave the link in the comment below. Thank you!)

Next to the guys who actually talk on Tinder, and the ones who are there only to show their muscles, or score a sex date, there is a interesting category of ones who are there to answer the questions. What I mean by this, is that some important number of guys starts a conversation, and then relies on you asking the questions and them replying on it.

I cannot really hear the music in it. And I interrogate people for living; do not want to do it in my free time.

So I said to one guy: please ask me something, I would like to type something about me too, and he did, very well-mannered person. He asked me two more questions and then I asked some more and then waiting.

What I can conclude from this is:

  • I should resume a dominant role and court a guy (while my belly grows from unprotected sex and his not, this is not going to happen)
  • I’m boring, he is not so in to me, he is just being polite
  • His mother thought him not to talk to strangers but his ex-wife worked on his communication skills, so he can communicate, but with a lot of fears and hesitation

To break a fame that only Dutch guys are like that, I talks to two British and one Irish guy. I try also the Arab , Aussie and Danish but they say nothing. Their mum’s won.

One of the British guy follow a pattern “give me the question I’ll give you the answer”, other is very much into taking me to the bar. Irish guy, like any other Irish guy, thinks he is a standup comedian, so we do have some laughs, but we never get serious.

So if you ask me if it will be more posts about Internet dating, I seriously don’t have an answer. You know how it is when you just go out. A desert.

During this fool Moon thing, when people get crazy, there was a guy stalking me in the City moll. I got scared from him, following me from shop to shop, but, hay, with the dating scene nowadays, and if you do not like Internet dating, what is really the way to meet that lovely soul mate of yours?

If you have a suggestion please leave it in the comment below, and I will try it out.

In the meanwhile do not worry about my stalker. I marched to him and from around 3 centimeters distance to his nose, told him I’ll call a police if he continue doing what he is doing. He looked aside and I felt sorry for all of us who are searching on a wrong places, in the wrong times, on a wrong ways and with  wrong people, including him.

Love you guys. Please share!

If you want to be informed about the new posts, please like my page on Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/Flirtingofmindsandmanners15

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Happiness is a cigar called flirting- Day 6

My dear readers,

Like I have promised I will deliver my rapport about flirting on Tinder, in a couple minutes.

First I would like to answer on the curious ladies questions, about the last Thursday and my handy man.

So on the last Thursday, at 8 o’clock AM, I saw the van in the possession of a correct logo, parked in front of my house.

What is the rush, you wonder? Well I was seen as an emergency case, as I got to find out a bit later. Maybe I just radiate that nowadays, God knows!

I was honestly disappointed when a saw that the back and the lower back, sticking out of the van, are not accompanied with the blond hair. Not my handy man of course:-(

The further inspection of available material, didn’t displeased me, thou. When opening the door I got to be confronted with a dark haired, blue eyed, extreeemely handsome man:-).

I swear by God, Dutch men can be really good-looking, but this is statistically impossible!!!

The owner of this company is running a model agency and not a technical support enterprise. And we are probably talking woman.

And she definitely reads my blog.

I will not continue about this anymore, it goes too much in to my privacy and I have to leave some space for Tinder; but if you need some reparations at home and you would like to check if I’m telling the true, please contact me. I’m still waiting for my bill to come in, and like I have warned you: they are charging per hour.

And before we go to Tinder one more digression.

I went to Dance delight with Jeanine and she told me that the curly, shy one, from the Roman army, will be there.

And he was… dancing around and with every available fine- looking girl. I wonder which one was The girl-friend-if -any?!

The curly one, remember, playing the pole, no legs, no arms, no hips…That reminded me of my grandma’s saying “Never judge the horse you didn’t ride on”.

I was so taken by the surprise, that I could not take my eyes of him. My God, he was almost… attractive.

I took some time to inspect the movements of his hips, because that is where all the magic should be living. Some researches show that man who can dance, are statistically better in bed, and they have better chances in fort planting.

There is an evolution theory who speaks about parallel in between a man dancing and a man fighting. For both mentioned, good health, co-ordination, stamina, strength, athleticism, rhythm, balance, suppleness, speed, an ability to predict and react to the movements of others, are necessary. Ideally, a woman wants a man who could, if the need arose, defend her and her children effectively, but who would not seek out fights without cause.

And where is the best to check this qualities of the man, than on the dance floor?

So ladies, be aware!

Curly, indeed, strolled around the dance floor; crashing the protestant’s nation’s rule of refraining, swinging his hips around the Ladies.

Dear, dear. I got to admit that when he let his snakes out, he is poisonous.

The whole impression was pretty good, especially because it had an element of surprise in it. I definitely didn’t see this coming. Not out of him.

My mean Serbian friends could not call him on his Dutch seagull dance: “one leg up, one leg down, arms wide spread, left and right, beak forward” … and the train.

All though the further observation revealed bit stiffness around his shoulder-neck area. I don’t know if this comes from some genetic deviation caused by wearing the collars in the Golden Age, or the traditional clog dance which puts the arms in certain position, but it is present.

I tried to let him go and let myself go on the Swan lake music, which replaced Samba, but not…when other girls went to ballet, I’m afraid I have played in the mud. I’m also too fiery for the Classic.

But enough about this – The Tinder time.

So I got the app, which asked me to reveal some personal information’s, photos and my friends list on the Facebook.

Why on the Earth they want my friends list?!! I refused to give them all that and the app refused to post my photo on. Well I’m going without photo, this time; I’m just in the right mood to fight with the robots!

The app offers, thou, a nice selection of the available man.

In California.

I love California, but wouldn’t it be handier to help me with the guys from the same continent? Not really in to the Cybersex.

Anyhow, I decide not to lose my temper here, and to see what’s in the offer tonight.

Per guy, you can see one or more photo’s, his age, Facebook name, and here and there bit of text about his preferences. Very basic!

That is kind-a good for a superficial girl, obsessed with the appearances, like me. I do not have to fool anybody around that I had ever chosen a man, because he had some inner qualities.

So here what the available guys say about themselves on Tinder (nick name meat market, by some gls on the Facebook):

  • A body builder in the mirror, naked to his waist. (I’m so sexy that the mirror will burst-into the tears probably)
  • Guy who wears a teddy bear mask and has two boys on his side. (I’m a family man; do you want to be a mammy bear?)
  • Three guys with their fingers up. (Together we can keep one girl happy)
  • The photo of the waterfall, in the distance small human figure visible. (If you like me come and find me)
  • In a builder shirt, all hairy. (“Veet” me baby)
  • 18 years old, naked. (Just got the children’s lock removed from my phone)
  • New York police officer. (If anyone is bullying you baby)
  • The Belgian in the Orange shirt. ( I can blend ).
  • 21 year old with muscles. (I’m in the gym since my 13th)
  • 101 year old. Still single to remind you on your future)
  • Ups, scary. (I cannot remember if I’m a good twin, or an evil one)
  • Looks like he is going to cry. (Never crossed my mind I will end up on Tinder)
  • With a golden necklace and the silver ring. (I love Metal-lica)
  • With a huge beer glass. (I’m an alcoholic)
  • With his son in the matching pants. (We are around the same age)
  • With my girlfriend. (Try to be hotter than she)

What people talk about themselves in public, dear God!!

  • Ups ! Father of my son’s friend. (Ha ha what should I do? Like, time to spread the news around the neighborhood, that I’m single)
  • And the list goes on; in the auto, on the auto, under the auto, next to the racing car, in the racing car, on the motor, next to the motor, on the boat, in the plain, next to the plane, next to the fight plane; tatoo, more tattoo, shirt tattoo; muscles, more muscles, even more.; glasses, dark glasses, glasses In the hair, glasses in the hand, in the uniform, more uniform, even more..

And just when I got tired…

A notification that a guy likes me.

The principle on Tinder is as follow. The guys you do not like, you just sweep away, and the ones you like get a heart from you. If he gives you this heart, you are the match, and you can talk.

In sweeping everybody away I gave some random guys my heart, and here we go. I like him, he likes me; our romance can start.

  • He at 20:42: “Hi beautiful how are you doing…your profile got my attention and it would be sincere pleasure to know you better GOD BLESS YOU”

Nice, he can feel my inner beauty from a distance and he is a nice religious man, who immediately sends me some blessed energy.

  • Me: “How do you know I’m beautiful, I do not have a profile photo yet 🙂
  • He at 21:13: “Thanks to take your precious time write me back on here…….I will really love to know where are you from and what are you doing for a living there”

Speaking with robot already?? I’m earning a lot, you keep on blessing me and I will start sending you the money, no problem.

  • Me: I’m from the Netherlands, and you?”
  • He at 21:25: “I’m a captain David Richardson from California I work for US army and I’m 45 years old. I’m currently deployed to western part of Africa due to my job and will deployed back to home very soon.”

The Captain America, of course, that is why he sounds like a robot.

  • Me: “Have you ever been in Europe?”
  • He at 21:31: “No I didn’t be in Europa but wish to be there one day.

Well I guess this is a Californian English.

  • Me: “Why don’t you come here than?”
  • He at 21:35: ”I will surely come very soon…let’s continued chatting and know each other more and more first. Baby I’m the man with only one heart and I know how to taking care of my woman and I know how to make my women feel for me till eternity.

Oh dear, a real man; to provide and protect, and make me yearn for him! It is not really necessary to see him dancing.

  • Me: ”I’m in. How do you do it, how would you make me love you forever?”
  • He at 21:40: “Well all things are possible when God is always support us in this relationship baby. We can love each other through chatting.”

Well dear gentlemen, who were hopping, I’m in a relationship now! It really goes fast now days, this relationship thing, and you have waited too long! I’m someone’s babe now.

  • Me: “You believe God would help us with all this distance? I’m a bit worried?”

I know God is almighty, but this is a new relationship, and it is a fragile thing.

  • He at 22:36: “Baby you don’t need to be worried about the distance cause its nothing when we love care and understanding each other”
  • He at 22: 39: “I’m getting my account deleted on here cause I found a good loving caring and understanding women on here. Do not worry, God has plans for you”

What?

The Captain America has dumped me. At 22:36 I was still his baby, and at 22:39 he dumped me.

My first after marital relationship lasted wait .. 40 minutes.

It was a good though; we had love, care and understanding. More than many couples have now days.

And of course God has plans for me: to sacrifice my friend list so I get located, or to send me on Lexa or Relationship planet.

Please feel free to comment and have a lovely day:-) See you soon.

Happiness is a cigar called flirting- Day 5

Dear all,

My flirting mission is continuing, in spite my occasionally too busy life. It looks like once you set you intention on something, it starts rolling with the minimum effort on your side.

As you know, lately I set my intention on 3 things:

  1. flirting
  2. not flirting with Dutch guys, in spite the fact that in The Netherlands they are still majority   (Although some mean voices are spread about soon being outnumbered by the incoming migrants)
  3. not flirting with anyone, but, just by the wish of every tired, single mother on the Earth, having a guy delivered on my doorstep

Also, my mind was pretty occupied with the muscles, without my real consent.

So it is a tired Friday afternoon, I’m busy with my errands, when I hear the doorbell. I hesitate to open, expecting one of the numerous kids to be in front of the door; looking for my first born. Drag myself downstairs; open the door, only to see all my thoughts from the previous month manifested.

Thank you Universe! (mind me to be more specific next time)

He says:”Hi, I’m from xxx company , to fix the hitting, we had an appointment today, true?

“My thermoregulation was just fine, until you haven’t ringed my bell, my dear”,  I’m tempted to say.

He looks like he needs some warming up, standing there on the rain, poor kitten.

(The lonely guy in the rain, is his song!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAfxs0IDeMs)

Well it is a cliché; but amusing one. Made me think on one of those movies, you know, when she opens the door, and within the couple minutes you have more than a glimpse in hers/handy-man’s less public parts. Well, if you rewind, it is within a few seconds, by that matter.

But it does not happened to real people, right?

He is 29- ish, 1,90m tall-ish, well build, blond, blue eyed, handsome Dutch electrician.  And his hair is wet -ish, and he smells male-ish.

Well, how many companies have that in their offer? I bet they send him only when women call.

I let him in, indeed we had an appointment, which slipped my mind all together. He carries a toolbox and a paper which claims that he spent ½ h riding to my home, even if his company is around the corner. Therefore I do not have time to dream about, he is from the ones rented on an hour unfortunately.

I show him the resting place of my recently deceased 2 ways thermo-regulator. He tries to make his way in there, crashing my flower pot and spilling the water all around the hallway.

That is what I always say: you let a man in your life, and 5 minutes later you get to clean after him.

He offers to clean himself, feeling from slightly uncomfortable (if he is a protestant) to enormously guilty (if catholic). It is difficult to estimate, but both ways he is now shaken, and will be an easier flirting target.

I normally inspect what people, who come to repair my things, do. Not that I think I will learn a lot, but it is just nice to see the competent man in action. Even if they do not know what is up, they will still hold their ropes, and appear confidant.

This one has a gentle approach. He, after all, works with electricity. He also has a different kind of tools, which my not yet 2 year old find fascinating. Youngster picks one tool after another, from the toolbox, and hand it over to the gentleman in action, naming every and each one with “K-Ha”. My baby is growing to be a man, no effort put in! That is why he is less verbal, though.

You wonder here, why the baby is in the picture. In the non- real life, the lady of the house, opening the door, would at the worst, have a puppy in her arms. The puppy will be mysteriously gone, behind the scene, soon the handy man start using his tools. In real life there is 3 of us kneeling on the 1 square meter, in the hallway; all 3 of us using the tools which are on our disposal.

I, intuitively, have put the yellow shirt on, in the morning, which nicely accents my sun-tanned skin and my girls.

The blond, blue eyes, handsome, concludes that 2 way regulator still lives, but his colleague black box has passed away. So the guy from the other company, was mistaken, he says with “what could you expect” smile, and we do not have right part to finish our mission.

Oh don’t tell me you have to come one more time?!

I look at my son, silently: “You are going to the crèche, there you can learn to be man, by playing with the Lego’s!”

Then I make my eyes big and round and put “oh no” expression on my face. Guys so cannot resist girls with rounded faces and big eyes; it just triggers their protective instinct to much. I know this, and I use it a lot. And if you do not believe me, it is all over Google!

He rushes to show me the black box, so I can look on the internet for the price, and I don’t know how, but suddenly he holds it and I hold it and our hands are touching, our face’s are quite close and I really, really, want to say something preverbal like .. “K-HA”.

He senses that I’m bit unsettled, but he misinterpret it for my worry about the cold winter coming. He offers to show me the trick, how I can still use my hitting without the missing part.

Now we a kneeling on 0,5m2 (not my fault the hallway is narrow at this part) and he instructs me: “Handle down, hitting off; handle up, hitting on!”.

Am I the only one here, who has a dirty mind?!

He looks at me, checking if I have followed the instructions, and I hope he does not see my cheeks burning and me biting my lips, trying to stop the laughter emerging from my kidneys.

It is bloody warm, humid and amusing in this land of men, who kneel on 0.5m2 with you and talk business!

“If I forget to put it down, what will happen? “, I cover my smiles with the innocent face.

“Oh, it will get reeeeally hot in your house”, he replies nodding thoughtfully.

Please leave me comment under, and share your experiences with flirting in The Netherlands and globally.

Stay with me, I have explored Tinder in the meanwhile. “OH my God” is the only comment I will have on this, until the next Monday.

Happiness is a cigar called flirting – Day 4, part two

Dear readers,

So, in part one of the day 4 experience,  I have described our dancing adventure, until the moment when we found The Tortoise.

Now, we have the Roman unbreakable formation in front of us, and we need a strategy to deal with it.

The first suggestion is, to let Maraya and Luis, who work with guys all the time, to try and enter the brotherhood. Using their experience, they probably wouldn’t be recognized like” other”. Once being inside, in spite breaking some of the unwritten social rules, they could possibly, using the strategy of Trojan horse, get the rest of us in.                                  

Here we are mixing the Roman with Greek’s history, but there is more and more proofs that the time is not actually linear and that we can change the course of the events if we want. And we want!

The only thing we do not want is to apply typical Dutch way of flirting, where women take all the initiative, and guys passively wait for an intercourse.

The other idea, which we come with, is to slaw-back- dance the guy we find most attractive from the group. That basically means not keeping much distance in between us, if any. I do try this one, on the cutie I see dancing near by, but that jeans of his is apparently too tick, so I do not get anywhere.

I see my friends struggling too. This strategy just doesn’t work, it seems that being in a close of proximity of the woman or man’s body, do not associate the Dutchman on anything else, beside the crowded train on the Monday mornings.

Other dancing tricks which reveal our femininity/masculinity, also leave them completely cool. I have never been more frivolous in my dancing and still, I can not get any of them even to turn into my direction. Our only gain is that Luis gets to be more popular among the women present.

At this point I ask my Dutch friend Jeanine what is the matter with that guys, and she says, “nothing, they are just being Dutch”. I insist on the explanation and she adds, that it could be that they have girls at home (all 20 of them?), but yea this is around it, have fun!

To make things more clear from the male side, I ask my Colombian friend Luis if he thinks this is normal. He explains that, now he would definitely make a move; but 5 years ago he wouldn’t do anything himself about it. He thinks they are just not experienced enough.

Well this is just my life story, I’m always early for things happening. And I totally believe that Dutch men are going to change in 5 years time; if that gets to be set in their five years plans. They are, after all, hardworking and well organized.

The beer keeps flying around, and with all that moving around, the tension is created, finally. The results in that Maraya receives the whole glass of beer on her hair, with the rest of it landing on my shoes (well you asked for it girl, with your curiosity about how things work in The Netherlands) .

Maraya insists on them buying us some drinks, as a apology. Two of them, cutie and another one, seems to seriously discuss it with a cheese head (Dutch: kaaskop, meaning: Hollander; this one with markedly light hair, resembling the color of the cheese). Finally I see them shaking their heads. Nope, too expensive.

Well anyhow, The Tortoise is for the moment wide open, so I use my chances to start a conversation with the cutie, who stills recovers from the shock of being asked for the money.

I guess that now, when the formation who was protecting him from any harm, is wide open, he feels vulnerable, so I make the decision to be gentle.

I ask him sweetly why they are all wearing this shiny thingies around their body parts. It is not one of my best opening lines, but OK, fast improvisation is necessary and I, as magpie, do get attracted to the shinny things. He says that they are having a bachelor party, and that a cheese head is a groom, they’ve been North previously…

He asks if I like that, and I think for myself “yes when my kids wears them”, but I only say “yes”. Bitching around anyhow never brings you anything good. (Well as I hear, this rule applies only on non Dutch women.)

His body language is not closed, he swings in between opening and closing the formation, but he does not say anything anymore.

So I decide to go the Dutch way, and ask some more: “Is it common to drink a lot at the Dutch bachelor parties?” Well that is Dutch way, after all:  “Doe normaal, dan do je al gek genough” (be normal, that is crazy enough). He come closer and makes a physical contact. Familiarity of the ways relaxes him, obviously.

“No”, he replies, “we can not drink, we need to protect our groom from all the beautiful ladies, who might want to steal him”.

What?! He is flirting! Oh my God. This is it?! I wish someone may confirm it. I’m flirting with a Dutch man. Or not? Maybe he is just being nice?

“Well if you drink more, you might be stolen from some beautiful lady, you know”, I give a hint. I’m now Dutch direct, right?

“I don’t think so”, he replies. Silence. The formation still open. Physical contact still present.

Is this now no, to me, or to the beautiful ladies of this world, or it is just a line to continue the conversation?

When did the flirting became so difficult?! I wish someone just would inform me why his nonverbal language and verbal silence are not speaking the same thing?

I’m probably the victim of the cultural differences here, but my the first rule of flirting is, have fun. That is why you do flirting! And I do not have any. I’m just trying not to be me.

That leads to me turning my back on him in frustration. It feels really sore and disappointing.

Like a kid, you know, when you learn to blow the balloons, and you think you know how to do it. And than you suddenly get one, which is particularly hard. So you blow and blow and it does not work, and you wonder what are you doing wrong? These are the cultural differences. The hard balloons!

To release the pressure of having to, for last ten years, deal with the cultural differences , and soothe my little me, who was once rejected on the playground from the boy with the name Zeljko (literal meaning  “one who is wanted”), I start composing.

Ruben where’s your trousers?

Deep voice recite:

“For many hundred’s of years,

In the lowlands of Netherlands

man have given up wearing the trousers..”

And than comes the song:

“I’m  just down from the Silent guys

I’m not big but I’m awful shy

All the girls shout as I walk by,

Ruben, where’s Your Trousers?..”

Well I haven’t really thought up this all by myself, it is a old Scottish song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIgaSwsqAf0,  just adjusted for the occasion.

That amuses me, so I can finally get over Ruben and Zeljko, all together, and move on.

In the mean while, the Roman formation got broken on other places and I see one sweet curly one not knowing where to watch first. He goes from one to other girl in our group and when he gets too be noticed he looks away. He has this big blues eyes and beside that reminds me on my ex. I’m not sure I like that, hence the frustration again, so I decide to do some 4 minutes of staring exercise.

New York psychologist, Professor Arthur Arun, has been studying the dynamics of what happens when people fall in love. He has shown that the simple act of staring into each other’s eyes has a powerful impact.

He asked two complete strangers to reveal to each other intimate details about their lives. This carried on for an hour and a half. The two strangers were then made to stare into each others eyes without talking for four minutes. Afterwards many of his couples confessed to feeling deeply attracted to their opposite number and two of his subjects even married afterwards.

Well this is all nice and fine, but I get like 4 seconds to look at his blue eyes. I repeat this 3 more times, and get the same reaction. Jeanine says, he is just shy, she can see that. I can see that too, but honestly I play kike-boo often enough in my house. I’m done flirting with Dutch men.

In the meanwhile Jasna get noticed and addressed from one of them, they seems to have a nice chat, but he leaves just like he has appeared. I ask what was that all about, she share the same information, 21 of them, bachelor party … somewhere else North on the beach are better parties…and leaves ..no explanation. …She probably gave a wrong answer, she jokes.

Like I would invest, at this moment, going  Nord for a better party. It would just unnecessary cost me some petrol. Now you see, my costumer mentality, I also want some value for my money (see my other article One pound of something please….).

One 50+ women smiles at me when ever I look at her direction. Now I remember that she was also winking on me in front of the toilet. I totally understand her. After all, one of my friends did change her sexual orientation in The Netherlands.

Jasna starts a pool dance and the shy, curly one is playing a pool. He literally stands there, arms next to his body, and … he stands! I can not see if he is blushing, it is too dark, but I can see that his face is twitching. Man, you can feel his pain! And you can experience this amazing stamina of his Germanic tribes : “What ever you do to me, I’m not cheating on my girlfriend!” and “I’m not leaving ether!”

Jeanine lose it, and goes to save her fellow compatriot from further suffering. He accept the conversation with a fine relief, and they go on talking. After some time, the rest of us had enough of flirting, and we decide to move to 70s room, Abba, dancing queen and “I’m having the time of my life”.

We leave her there, knowing that she is safe. After all, if she do not attack him, he is not going to attack her, for sure.

I got to say that we had a good time. Laughed a lot! No people got hurt. No drinks got shared. The cultural differences didn’t ruin the evening.

Jeanine got safely escorted home by the contubernium (eight legionaries of the Roman army). She said they were very nice and indeed the shy, curly one had a girlfriend.

Looking for a conclusions? Dutchmen as always, in their flirting skills,  appeared to be nice, reliable, passive, misers and sorry but I got to say: awfully boring.

We decided to try following groups next time: British (they get drunk and remove they pants as a part of their flirting strategy; gotta remember to put same good lace on), Irish (they invite you on a drinking contest; mind me to practice my drinking skills), Polish (pay attention more on the inner qualities; should read some recently published book, maybe), Germans ( fraulein do all the work ; ow not sure we should repeat this experience!), Columbians (que culaso mamita! -What an ass, Mama; no problem in that department, luckily), Serbians (they live for flirting; God how I miss that!) and the rest…. 

And I love THIS cultural differences!

Happiness is a cigar called flirting – Day 4, part one

Dear humans,

For forth day flirting in The Netherlands, another strategy has been chosen. My friends and me have decided to go out, on the beach, to dance. The group consist mainly of girls and we bring one handsome Latin guy, so there is something for everybody’s taste.

At the place it is evident that women outnumber; they also dear to dance quite early in the evening. Guys stand, either alone, either with their better half’s or in the groups, discussing current political situation. Smoking machine is working hard to create smoking hot atmosphere, but not, nothing can replace a real stuff.

My friend Katie says: “It is gerontology here, don’t you think?”, which is kind-a true, we look underage. I did pick up 70-80-90’s music party after all, that could explain:

“.. You know I like my girls a little bit older
I just wanna use your love tonight…”

To add the music into the experience please visit:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ODfe5017h4

You can not bit it, join it;  and soon we take our space, until any still available. Full heartedly, we try to copy all the fingers, elbow, hip movements; we see around us and could possible remember from our teens.

I’m close to DJ table, he passes by, gently laying his arms on my shoulder. I’m not sure was he flirting with me, or he was just worried that one of my elbows will end up in close proximity of his glasses. Well I’m a country girl, we do take our personal space seriously, and we do take plenty of it. He gets back to his place without making an eye contact, so I conclude it was me invading his personal space, not other way around.

I’m looking for a start up of my experiment, even if I do not feel like. I take all my responsibilities seriously, I just do not see any interesting man from here. It is smoky, I’m a small woman, the only guy I could possibly see is a few meters away, and is 2 meters lang. And there is one leaning on the door, with a beer belly. I’ve just concluded that we have common interests, when Maraya suggests that  we should  move away, to get some action. The room next to us, apparently, has more guys.

Well, next place is the sound horror, 2 types of music mixing with each other, and it is better to try techno department after all.

I’m from 70’s, and not a 90’s beach,  but hay, we had enough of naphthalene smell for the evening. (If you do not understand the latest, try google “old people, mothballs”).

Techno room is full of younger guys, so it looks like it will be possible to integrate. I see one, I wouldn’t really mind to make mine, and park.

Maraya is the biggest pervert in the group (that’s what she says), and she immediately suggest that it would best for a starter, to make some finger moves around the guy’s rear axle. I kind- a exercise the movement to see if I still have it in me, but of course I get mocked for my love for a big man: ” Do some apple picking instead, it is a techno party, and your hands will be just on the right height”.

She adds that she got her previous boy-friend, black stallion, by applying this technique. Some liquor, plus bet, was involved, and there were two big guys ready to do some old fashioned fighting to defend the honor of the lady.

I ask my Columbian friend Luis, would he back me up if I have to run, having the boy’s Dutch girlfriend after my back? He replies that he can not fight girls, his religion does not allow him to do that. Good catholic boys raising, that is it!

A whole brotherhood on the left spotted. All wearing the illuminative bracelets on different part of their bodies. They belong together, it is obvious. In their thirties-ch?! We could easy infiltrate and try to make some nice memories together.

Unfortunately, the way they stand is kind-a not inviting. One British client of mine, told me that  “circle of death” is a British description of Dutch people forming closed forms on the parties; with their bodies.

If you are in this country long enough, you must know this phenomena?

The Roman formation,  all body parts protected, no entrée – no matter which force you might be applying?

Voila, I give you The Tortoise!

roman tortise formationWhen laying siege to a fort, Romans used a formation called the tortoise. The soldiers in front and sides interlocked their shields. The soldiers in the back lines placed their shields over their heads to form a protective “shell” over top of the men. “It was so strong that (in training) a chariot could be driven over the top!” (Williams 2003, pg 28).

If not familiar, I will try to pass my, and only my (and half of The Great Britain), look on the things. Been only on a few Dutch parties and decided I have seen them all, so I do not know if this corresponds with other people’s experiences, but it might be a life saving.

There are you, the expat invited on a Dutch party for the first time. If you a lucky, you are bringing a friend along; or you are a colleague of the host, so over there, you might find people you know . 

The reasons that bring an average person on the party are as follow :

  • to celebrate with the host a happy something,
  • to hand over the present and
  • to meet new people.

So you enter, to find out that there is your host and bunch of his friends from primary school (one circle), secondary school (second circle), colleagues from the first job (third circle), colleagues from the second job (forth circle), friends from the sport club (fifth circle).. and you.

Well, do not worry upfront, you will be gently escorted to the right circle, if you happen to belong to the one.

If not, you will be presented to the one of the circles above, where you will find out that people involved, talk about the memories they share together, in Dutch, you happen to master een beetje of geen beetje (little bit or not at all).

Once in a while, you will be kindly asked what are you doing here, and some more questions in English, and the rest of your time, you can politely nod to everyone else.

You will find out also, that the turtle opens only when the host approaches. In that occasion, some old jokes gets to be thrown left and right, following the host leaving the direction of the next turtle. The formation closes.

If you try to push your way in to The Tortoise, please remember two things:

  •  a chariot could be driven over the top, no success,  
  • trying to mingle falls under breaking the unwritten rules of socializing in The Netherlands.

Have fun!

And I do not say that this is bad, it just falls under the cultural differences we all struggle with, by moving abroad.

Serbian parties, I use to attend, looked completely different.

You would get into someone’s house, to find out that the host is nowhere to be found.

That wouldn’t bother you very much, cause the chances you would know the host were not so huge anyhow. Most likely you were invited from your cousin’s girlfriend’s neighbor, who happens to know the host, cause he has sold him some books, and in that exchange found out, that the host is turning 20ti or 30ti something next weekend, and the full name and the address happened to be inside the book covers.

So, the handing over of the present wouldn’t happen and you would have the alcohol bottle or two to put on the kitchen counter.

The music would be too loud to communicate, but someone would notice if you  have a glass or not, and you would be nonverbally asked if you need some or some more alcohol to relax.

If in need to socialize, you would have to develop the habit of smoking, so you could join other chain smokers on the terrace, or in the garden, where all the verbal fun was going on. The rest of the house was used exclusively for dancing and drinking.

If you would need to be alone (or lonely), well good luck, hiding in the toilet wouldn’t work, cause it would be always someone there, vomiting. The bedroom of your hosts parents, wouldn’t work either, cause it would be occupied with some just hooked up couples, rolling in the nest of other people’s jackets.

If in need to hook up with your crash, it was enough to dance around him 3 rounds max and he would ask you if it is OK to bring you some drinks. Than you would go out to chain smoke and get to know each other better.

I never left any party not knowing at least 87% of the people present, the rest of 13% I usually didn’t want to know anyhow.

And by knowing each other, I mean:

  •  we would see each other in very delicate states of existence,
  • we wouldn’t usually discus it ever again, if we ever meet
  • if close friends involved, the joke about, would go on forever.

But that was than, I really do not know how are things back there any more. Probably changed.

Well I guess I need to have a break now, and in my next post you will found out how Serbian, Polish, Columbian and Dutch mafia has cracked “The Tortoise”.

This post is meant to amuse, not to offend any party involved, no matter how the party might be presented.

Please stay with me and feel free to share and comment!

One pound of something please (sex maybe?..) , I saw you have it in the sales; and I want it now

My dear fellow humans,

Let me just drop a line or two today, so that creator feel that he lived too. It was not super exciting week, must say, but hey, living the excitement all the time would be too much for any human being. Just used my free time yesterday to walk around my errands and think about all the impressions I have collected for the past weeks.

And it is not all shiny I must say. There were some difficult thoughts crossing my mind, a bit darker than usual. For example thinking about where humanity in general goes too?  Disconnection, disengagement, dissatisfaction and dis-functionality.

How we got to be here in the first place? Slowly disengaging from ourselves, and than from others, living the life of ego, full of fears and desperate for some connection in the same time.

One of my ex-clients brought this actually in to my attention. On his referral letter his GP wrote :” feels like for years he has disconnecting from everything,  depressed”.  Dark he? Difficult to make it what lighter for you. For dark Monday morning, will write again about flirting, promise.

Recently I have talked with my Dutch male friend about the subject of love and engagement and he has shared with me the following statement: “My previous girlfriend of couple months, has cost me my savings for the months spent together”.

His male friend actually has broth the enlightenment in, by asking him a question : “What is the point of having the relationship, ask yourself how much money you have invested in, and what this brought you back? ” .

I know that dating the Dutch guys means dating his wallet, but this is just too painful!!

Let us say, that most of us wants to be in the intimate relationship with a fellow human. We go out, dress up, spend money, time, energy; to find someone special. We find one who looks special; we go out, dress up, spend money, time and energy, and than sometimes this special turns out not to be special at all, or not our special type…and they we are alone again.

We lick our wounds, bear our defeats, count our pennies (in some culture it seems to be part of getting over it) and go on. Or not? Or we get stuck with: ” let me see of this investment of mine actually made the profit, and if the investment did exceed the gain, maybe I should not do it again”.

When did love turn into the profit game? Where I was in the meanwhile? Investing my time, energy, money, myself in to the marriage which did work ONLY for 10 years. Marriage which brought me happy moments, sad moments, crazy moments, relaxed moments;  feeling together, feeling lonely, feeling torn, feeling loved; 2 beautiful kids and the list goes on.

Does my investment exceeds the gain and if yes, should I stay bitter on my ex partner for robbing me of my time, energy, money and myself?

Or I should turn back and say THANK YOU: we mixed some of our thingies, some of them got old, some outworn, some new got created, some of yours stayed with me, some of mine stayed with you. We experienced, have grown together and thanks to each other… Amen.

How much that experience of being together for couple hours, days, months or years actually costs in human money? And where is that web shop where I can go and buy the proper quality product for the exact amount of money I’m willing to invest?

You get the point?

We got to be costumers! We expect that our hard earned money, time and energy we want to invest in thingies, should be returned proportionately. We expect quality products. We feel robbed if we invest and not get what we expected (and paid for).

And we want it now! (Or in 2-4 days, the post nowadays are so slow.)

So let us say, that a person A (male here), has need for a connection (it is a basic human need, so it is behind many needs).  He is pretty much disconnected from himself (many of us are), and he does not spent much time thinking what he really wants at this moment.

He feels lonely, horny, bored, frustrated or something, but he does not spend time with himself to think what he really feels at this moment.

He just goes with: he needs something now and that something he will find somewhere else. Maybe with some other person?

So he pays a fee for a dating site or go to the bar and meets a girl (or a guy, depends from the preferences).

To recapitulate: he do not really knows what he is missing, do not know how exactly that makes him feel, but he has already invested his time, energy and money to fulfill his need.

Well now, cause he has already invested, he needs to get something out of it. Right? When you meet girl, and she looks OKE than you probably need sex. Right?

So he open his mouth or type in: “I want to kiss you all over your body as soon as possible”, or “You do not know me yet, but we might end up in bed together later on” or  “What for sport do you like, I like sex” or …

Well, to put now aside, that most of the girls find these not a good start up lines, I would ask our guy A : “Do you really want to have sex with me?”

Or you want to have sex with something (for that matter you can use some other object or your own hand), or you miss your old girlfriend and how excited she use to make you feel, or you are lonely and in need of some attention?

Or you are hungry for something that you not even know what, which an instant gratification of consuming sex with me wouldn’t really satisfy? Just like your excess use of alcohol, recreational drugs, overeating, shopping, gaming, facebooking also never do.

So next time instead asking a person B:  “Would you share some of your sexual fantasies with me?”, any time before you could really experience any physical attraction toward each other;  would you please first connect with yourself asking    ” do I really honestly want to hear about it?”

Happiness is a cigar called flirting – Day 3

Dear all,

I haven’t been flirting much live, last days. I was waiting He to call Me. I did some educational lines with guys in our flirting group, but that went without touching, so it hardly can be seen as infidelity. Right? If you have been with me for a while, you probably know who He is. Well , He didn’t call, so I decided to go on with my social experiment.

Shamelessly flirted the way to my kids school/crèche and back. Who says that single, hard working mum’s, can not have fun every day. It is a common prejudice that we are so busy and tired, that we do not even shave out legs anymore, hence would find a time for a new Men in our lives (yes it is plural, it is not a typing mistake).

Must say that on the way there I was distracted with my boys babbling, and didn’t really noticed young dad’s on their way to school laying their eyes on me. Yea, you gotta understand, it is early in the morning, they are also distracted with babbling of their offspring, probably they already had woke up sex with their offspring’s mamma’s. (Bullshit, it is a working day, it is well known that married man in this country are only getting it on the Saturday morning!).

Anyhow, got to wait to pass construction site on my way back, to get noticed. Guy smiles on me, big time, from a distance. Well I didn’t tell you yet, that when I pull my stomach in, I’m quite an eye catcher. I smile back, and we keep on smiling until I can not turn my head anymore. Probably he keeps on checking me even when I pass, but this is really not my responsibility anymore. Anyhow in this country people have an insurance for everything and anything, so if he gets an heart attack, his family will claim that he died on work, and get the money.

There, man on the left, with a super cool mustache. I hesitate to flirt with him thou. My dad once, when I was small, happened to grow his mustache. It was a bit fashion these days, so he gave it a go. My dad was always an eye catcher himself, dark hair, green eyes type, and he had his ways with the ladies. I do not say he did anything around, but ladies use to smile on him a lot.

Anyhow, than one unfortunate time, he grew this unfortunate mustache and they grew red. To be precise, the ginger color!! So there he was, handsome, young , black hair, green eyes, with ginger mustache. I swear, this 20 percent of Celtics’ blood, genetic researches show Serbians have, they all went in my dad’s mustache!!

Can you picture that? Hilarious isn’t it? Yes for you, because it is not your dad we are talking about. I was pretty relieved when he took them off. So I kind a have a childhood mustache trauma and decide to pass this gentleman without flirting.

Now I’m in the bakery, waiting my turn to pay, after a skinny, “I only eat seldom and I exercise a lot”  type of man. Big and powerful tattoo, on his very finely defined arm. You know this type? I think English word be wiry or sinewy. Only muscle, no fat, but not too big? Dry?

Well this guy is in the shop with his 3 -3,5 old soon, buying some sweet rolls for the breakfast. The boy, keeps on jumping one leg to another, can’t wait to get a grip on his food. He is still not influenced with Dutch culture “grab some bread with cheese and go out and do some sport”.

Well I do not say that there is something wrong with it, it is just very different from what I find important in life.

The biggest shock for my Dutch ex partner was this phenomena that Serbians eat. No, that is not a right definition of the matter. “That Serbians eat all the time” , that would be it.

For example, there we are, on the holiday, visiting my family. We just woke up, going down in the kitchen, saying good morning, and getting fresh cheese pie, meat rolls, and cabbage pastry, my mum made, before coffee.

When he protest, he gets to be warned that it is not good to have a coffee on the empty stomach, and that this is just a snack before the breakfast, witch is coming just right away. Fifteen minutes later, we are all busy with our breakfast, trying to work our ways trough sweet and salty, when my mum starts talking about what we are going to have for the lunch. Get it? (Same happens during the lunch of course.)

My ex says, doesn’t matter, he think he is going to take a walk after this big breakfast, but he gets to be warned not to go too far away from house, cause it will be some cake with a coffee in around half an hour from now.

He goes his roundabouts for a while and the rest of us just stay rolling around the couches or on the grass in the garden, depending from a season we are visiting.

After all if it is summer, it is hot. Who wants to do walking, not to mention sport, when is 35 degree , at 9  o clock in the morning?

If it is autumn, it is rainy, wet and cold. If it is winter there is snow outside, it will cost you more calories to get dressed and get out, than what you just got in.

Well Dutch person wants. See the difference?

Surprisingly enough Serbian people in general are not overweight.  Since in Holland, I just keep on gaining weight, with all this gyms fees and cabbage soup restrictions. I think I miss being Serbian.

But I got distracted now, from my flirting experiment.

So I’m trying here to get the attention from that guy next to the cash register. He just keeps staring at the floor and I get frustrated! It is impossible to flirt with this guy! And his 3 years old, he is just watching and learning to be a man from HIM. So this the way the next generation of non flirty Dutch man gets to be created! He finds the floor more interesting than the women around?

He keeps on staring, and I calm my southern temper down, and decide to join him. Now I’m looking at the floor. Maybe he see some coin down, under the counter, and thinks about how to get it out, without casher noticing him. You know how Duchies are around every penny, I do not want even to begin here talking about it.

No, it is not that, he just looks down. Well, the tiles are white, have a nice giraffe patterns in a khaki color, thou. It is not unpleasant to look at it, but I do not personally feel very attracted. Maybe he had a similar pattern on the wall paper in his room when he was a boy, so this soothes him, who knows? Maybe he is just depressed about his life. Maybe mammy of his little one, just took of with some guy who was actually smiling at her occasionally. God knows, and definitely with this thought I start feeling more empathic toward him.

Little boy gets his sweet rolls, and he grins on me, talking something non understandable in his underdeveloped mother tong. I get it darling, your smile is overpowering,  it goes something about   “I-sweet-love!”. I sweet love you too, I say, and he goes away.

Back on the street two garbage men, leaning on the wall, are giving me hungry looks. There is this law of attraction again: ” What you radiate is what you get”. And I wear orange today. They too.

Off to my work, no flirting anymore.

Love you guys, please feel free to comment..

Happiness is a cigar called flirting – Day 2- Complete experience

Got myself ready to go. Let me see, my every day wear: jogging pants- black, t-shirt-gray, no bra (girls if YOURS are still independently standing, do not support them with the bra’s, u can get cancer and guys in this country just need some excitement), slippers, some make up, hair style “ I’ve just got out from the bed “ (that CAN be sexy, true??)

Oh dear, no wonder that I’m still single, 5 month after my divorce went through. This is a serious stuff, this experiment, you cannot go out like this, says the smart voice in me. I’m the mother of two, driver, worker, cook, cleaner, administrator, handy-man, gardener, and I just do not have time to make myself every morning pretty. Anyhow if you guys want to see me all straightened up, please make an appointment with me. Note: When I’m working I do wear the bra. And for my defense: I mend myself, I always wear lace, it is just not visible.

Oke, red sweeter and some perfume will do. Red usually does the trick. It did it yesterday, at least.

Now my child. Oh dear, I’ll have to bring my youngest in to my experiment!!! Wonder what his father and the social services in The Netherlands would have to say about it?! Anyhow, he is a little man, he could use some education on time. And no one will show his intimate parts yet, hopefully! Wear him red too, he is anyhow handsome little fellow. I might not get too many enthusiastic men getting all horny on me, but on the other hand, it is a good advertising “ I really do make beautiful babies” and for guys from macho cultures “I only make boys”. It explain also, my slightly swollen belly (she mind herself, just not have time to go to gym and lose this pregnancy weight). Well I never said I’m a movie star, remember?

Get out of the house and smile, you beautiful women!

Here comes my young neighbor, handsome one, slash smile. He missed me and anyhow I’m friendly with his lovely wife. We do have saying in Serbia: do not shit where you eat, so it is better this way.

Second comes a pick up guy. UU I like walking streets like this, head up, all smiles, tits still standing, in red. Feel better already. Let me check him up. Good looking!! My harts pounds a bit from all this muscles around. I’m not used anymore to have that anywhere near. He missed me too. Too busy with a wrong pickup! Pity, he looked good in orange. I could whistle or throw stones on him, but then hey I’m respectable mother of two and psychotherapist, and you do not go around and actually hurt people cause you are in need of attention.

Approaching the supermarket. Guy from the car is checking me out. It is not that I was breaking any pediatrician rules. I think he likes my sweeter.. Or he is a pedophile? Or a teacher in the nursery school?

Sixty something on the corner. 100% autochtone. He smiles, big smile back and says halloooo. I can tell that some juices are still flowing in that body. Veery encouraging!.

Entering the smarket area. All women!!! I might be bisexual, according to some researches most of us are, but I’m not there yet.

Man on the entrance of the supermarket, tall, well built, Dutch. He actually frowns on me!! I will get back to you mister! I have time. And you haven’t seen south of Europa yet, obviously!

Another big man. I love big man. I’m a small woman but have a sharp character. Something in me still believes that a big man could possibly domesticate me. By build and appearance probably Polish man. He passes me and runs to the bakery. Very hungry indeed!! But he could start thinking about something else but food, if he does not want to feel very lonely in Holland!

Dutch frowning example are also approaching the bakery and stand right next to the Polish guy. I slowly mingle in between, saying one innocent sorry. Cozy! Sandwich! Threesome! (Lady whose 14 years old sun reads this post, do not worry, he probably knows all about it from Google). Polish man still busy with his food! Dutch sheepishly smile at me. OOO you are flirting baby… I know that now. If you caught me yesterday, I would not even guess that you are just too shy, and that your protestant mother taught you not to look at women, and if you accidentally do, you should FROWN first. If she passes the barrier than she is the right one! Or at least she is Dutch, because she knows her roundabouts with you. And the blood line stays clean.

Very old man approaching. Although man say that man is until he is not dead, I think this one is now only concentrating on walking and breathing. Apologies’ if I was wrong.

I turn for not obvious reason only to see a really handsome one, checking my back-ground with obvious pleasure and stamina. I would say a Dutch builder, with a really good testosterone levels. But after he passes me I see a big wet stain on his pants on the place where his anus should be located. It is probably just water but it is off-putting. Who wants a guy who still does it in his pants? Even by accident?

Next one is a really young employ of the supermarket. He looks so young that I’m not sure if I’m at all allowed to smile at him, so I do not. He nervously finds his way around me, coming back and forth, but then he decides to stay. It looks like his hormones are working just fine, and that this country has a future.

Then I locate myself next to the tools, hoping it will be a man approaching so that I can actually start communicating verbally with someone. I got myself a diamond sharpener, very strange tool which I never saw before, and I’m intending to ask the first guy what is it for. Guys like to play smart about tools and help helpless ladies who do not know better. Instructions for use are written on the box, but there are in English, and I look so NOT Germanic that no one ever addressed me in English in 10 years, unlike my other friends. So I could go with pretending I do not speak English. Unfortunately only guys with wifies pass by, and eventually I get bored and move on. You do not flirt with a guy while his wife breathe in his neck. It is just not moral. And the chances that he will dare to speak to you are equal zero.

Oke… Now I’m done with my shopping, but will make another round. It is my free day; I can do whatever I want with my free time. So I scroll around, buying some more unnecessary items. This experiment is very much not good for my family budget. If it last, I will go bankrupt. Or maybe I will get less bored, lonely and horny, so I will lose need for emotional eating and shopping. This might be than seen as an investment for the future. And I’m also saving the human race. Mind the money.

Next one is a mixture of Dutch and Indonesian genes, and he is literally staring at me with his BIG BLACK eyes. And he keeps on staring!! I chicken out, what do I know about staring? This other woman, she was staring at Bokito (gorilla dominant male) in the Zoo in Rotterdam and he broke all her bones. Staring is not for a small women, is scary.

And then it is my turn to pay my groceries and I see an Angel. Just across me. He has it all: biceps’s, tricepses, 6 packs, no wait.. 8 packs, and he is of caramel color. I’ve just met mine soul mate, people.!!! He looks at me, smile. I remember what my friend said about her Latin lover and I chocolate melt. Somewhere in between turning in to Choco-pasta and paying my bill I remember my belly. Pull it in, pull it in, you do not have to breath ALL THE TIME, dam it! I pull my stomach in, and start praying. Or better bargaining with the God again: please God if you give me this man, I will eat the cabbage soup and nothing but the cabbage soup every day, the rest of my days, and I will start to enjoy it. I will also exercise until I’m sweat and tears. Sweat and tears, amen! But God is, I guess, fed up with me promising I will do things. Or he knows that cabbage soup is just not good for my blood type.
So, the man of my dreams leaves, and I still haven’t paid my bill. If he by any chance read this post, I beg him to call me on a date. He knows who he is, he recognized me too, mind the pretense.

Well until now, if you are still reading, you probably think I’m an empty headed women who falls only for muscles, testosterone and sweat, but it is not really so. I, for example, like the nerdy men. I like them so much that I have married one before. He did have six packs though, but I married him because he was a nerd, I promise. I have divorced him for the same reason though, (and because he stopped doing sport), but never mind, that is too private to share.

Let us go back to my love toward nerdy. I love them cause they can be so sweet, nice and innocent. I want to kiss them, to make up for all the girls they didn’t kiss, because although usually very smart, they were shy, insecure, with poor social skills and the computers just came along in their sensitive age. So girls if you see nerdy or quirky one, along your way, kiss him for me too.
I’M DONE with nerds and too much testosterone. Will go the middle way from now one. Of course except if HE calls me on a date. Than it is a FATE and nothing but a FATE.

Back to our experiment:
What doesn’t break you, make you stronger, so I pull my dignity, my tits and my broken heart and I leave. On the way I see a very nicely dressed guy, metro type. He looks away, playing hard to get, no wait.. he is watching himself in the window. I almost say “don’t worry you look better than me today, if that comfort u”, but I decide to be kind.

After that I meet two people holding hands (very sweet), young guy smiling at me and my little one (will be a good dad one day), family guy scanning me after his wife’s back (immoral predator), the person on the telephone lost in some cyber space (probably nerd), two guys on the bikes which I try to distract from pedaling, but in this country nobody falls for the woman from the bike (try Italy, they fall there from the motorbikes, says my friend).
And that was it for today.

I must say I got tired from all this flirting. It would be good to focus in the near future. Maybe one flirt for a day! And maybe some verbal communication INSTEAD?

Have a lovely day and please let me know what your experiences were during the weekend.

Happiness is a cigar called flirting – Day 2

Dear All,

I have promised I will share my experiences about my second day flirting in the Netherlands. I must say that flirting and writing about it amused me to the bits, but man; it takes time to do it! I must get more efficient or I will just go on with flirting and you guys start writing about it.

It is written in a light tone it might not teach you a lot about the flirting, but it might amuse you with your Saturday morning coffee.
Enjoy!

LIVE NOW Day 2

  • On a second day of flirting, live now, my conclusions are as follow:
    girls should not wear bra’s, it is not good for anybody’s health
  • you cannot have it all, but you can always go with a red sweeter
  • children are never too young to see their parents engaged in activities which make them happy
  • I had a potential to become a movie star, but it didn’t work for me
  • “ do not shit where you eat” make sense
  • no matter how lonely and horny you feel, it is never OK to throw stones on others     (neither to show/talk them your intimate parts on the first date)
  • when women in your forties, man of 60+ still think you are a great young chick
  • according to some researches most of us are bisexual, but I’m not there yet
  • frowning on people in Dutch means “come and get me baby”’
  • Polish man are lonely in Holland cause they like to eat too much
  • walking and breathing go before sex
  • guys who openly check your back-ground sometimes have something on their      back-grounds
  • The Netherlands has a future
  • if you want to play helpless, develop some patience girl
  • it is not moral to flirt with a guy while his wife breathe in his neck
  • money can always be well invested and the humans can be saved
  • staring at women will trigger some submissive behavior, but you do not get laid mister
  • Angels are among us and Latin lovers, opposite of what is believed of them, are    not always so horny that they will rip your clothes away soon they see you, no matter how do you look
  • the God always knows what is good for you and that is sometimes not a cabbage soup
  • nerds and body builders of this world need to be kissed, but it is sometimes better to go middle way
  • mirror yourself at home and when out, look at that girl beautiful eyes, instead
  • if you want to create a big waves you better change the country
  • not easy to eye- flirt guys who are not used to it
  • Dutch men do flirt, but you have to push a bit to get in to their pants. If you like it, go for it, said one Dutch girl in a tread. If not, woman, there are 100 other nations in The Hague!
  • flirting can be very tiring activity, better control your ADHD

Now, if crazy enough to read the whole experience to understand the conclusions, be free to do so (check next article, it is hilarious). Do not hold me responsible for your free time usage. Have a lovely day and let us know!

Happiness is a cigar called flirting-Day 1

Dear all,

After the long discussion, following my first post ” The Dutch man can flirt, myth or reality”, the conclusion was that I should start a social experiment “Happiness is a cigar called flirting”, to see by myself, if Dutch man can flirt and to rapport about it.

Here are results of the Day 1 social experiment (online):

I think 3 guys flirted with me during the course of our discussion.

Number one pm me immediately (send me a private message on the Facebook), that he is in for flirting or sex or whatever I want. I appreciate the move, very brave to expose yourself so far, but I must say it sounded a bit cheap. First, if you are in for what ever I want, I must think about your self esteem. Second, I’m bit old fashioned girl (most of the girls raised similar I’m afraid), so mentioning sex, my intimate parts, your intimate parts in the first conversation, just do not make me horny enough. There is this joke when a simple women comes to gynecologist for the first time and he says” please undress”, and she replies “wait a bit doctor, let us just first kiss for a while”. Tip to my new friend: try instead for example: interesting topic, can we discuss it privately?

Second flirt: very sweet man, complimenting and so, pleasant tone of conversation. Experience: the best sex happens in between two people who are equal. Mentioning that you like mature woman, only make me feel old and motherly. Next thing what will happen, I”ll ask you to put your jacket on and use a loo before going out, just like your mummy. Well, that is the effect you didn’t want to achieve! Tip: do not talk about the age difference if you haven’t been asked for directly (except if you are under-aged)!
There is this joke about 80 years old women being warned that sex with young man can be fatal and she replies ” if he dies, he dies”!

Third guy was complimenting me and than stopped. I did check him out and saw him holding a baby. I wan’t flirt with a guy hoe has a family and was he flirting than at all?! Very Dutch subtle and than stop and than baby!? Confusing. I probably should see it as flirting and check about family, but unfortunately life is too fast nowadays and on average people spend only 15 sec checking a website. (Don’t know statistics for Facebook profile’s)
Tip: when start flirting, keep on rolling, excitement grows with every word you say, and mind what the photo’s on your social profiles speak about you. Girls take you time to check guys longer!
Didn’t notice more people flirting with me. If you did, ask yourself if you was to subtle or if I was too careless.
Today I go smiling around!

Please free comment on this. I’m just one person and maybe I got it all wrong. Your help is more than welcomed. Join the project, go and flirt, it is summer. Share your experiences.
I do not hold any responsibility, thou, for any dates, sex’s, relationships, broken hearts and babies this project might potentially create.
Have a great day!