Men, men, mens
August 09, 2005
Some wonderful,happy, interesting , and hilarious (still laughing over the �Vanilla Ice�s dumpster� bit) things happened in my blogosphere yesterday. So, shout out to all of the above for making me laugh, squee, giggle, and contemplate how I *do* sometimes wish I could jump on someone�s skull Mario-style (though I would never blame the game for the urges, just perhaps the method).
Last night after art therapy (wherein not much art was made, but therapy was had nonetheless) I met up with my dear friend Teej, whom I really don�t see often enough, at the Greek Club. He was in the company of 7 or 8 of the most gorgeous European men in Cairo. Seriously. On one end of the table we had the German contingent�Christian, Gunter, and�let�s say Hans. Christian had the dark, intense good looks, and Gunter had piercing blue eyes and shockingly blonde hair, and �Hans� was somewhere in between. On the other end, was the Russian contingent headed by Ilya, the tall, lanky, flaxen-haired Arabic student from St. Petersburg. And in the middle was the Egyptian-American contingent composed of Teej, Yasmine, her sister and a friend, and myself, with a GORGEOUS Frenchman named Terri (I think? I asked him to repeat his name twice, and each time got too distracted by his pouty lips to really hear what he said) thrown in for good measure. We were a regular UN sandwich. Sadly, last night�s gathering was sort of a sayonara dinner for the Russians and Terri who will be going back to Russia and Syria respectively.
Here is the lovely thing I�ve been noticing about European men (for our purposes here Russia is European, mmkay?)�no matter how gorgeous they are, they seem to be pretty unassuming about it. Terri, who has model-like good looks, was totally friendly, polite, and even a little bit goofy, and seemed to have no idea that pretty much all the females at the table were lusting after him. The Germans�though typically tight-lipped�were basically very down to earth. And Ilya was jovial and witty, and nice enough to ignore me and Teej�s obnoxiousness when Teej looked me right in the eye and said, �So�Ilya�other than being TALL and SKINNY, why don�t you tell the girls [*cough* Newgy *cough*] more about yourself.�
Teej and I have been trying (and failing miserably) to set each other up with friends since 2001. However, he promises that when he comes back from Boston in two weeks he will be bringing with him 1) his hiking backpack for me to take on my upcoming trip, and 2) a good friend of his who will be spending a semester brushing up on his Arabic, and who Teej thinks is kind of perfect for me. We�ll see.
This entry is again too long to go into what happened at art therapy, or discuss another thing that's been on my mind lately.
By the way, here is what I managed to hastily paint last night: 
Dr. M says that the purple �body� on the right is me. The purple outline on the far left is the person I�m looking for. In between us is all this noise, which represents all the conditions that a potential beau must fulfill. Apparently, I am very demanding.