Mondays Aren't Fundays

”You look like you came in off the street in that big coat.” ~ my boss, to me.

I actually wasn’t offended. Of course, he has immunized me against inappropriate comments over the last 2 years (and started off the year with a strong dose of TMI when he discussed the sex party he and his pals “mistakenly” attended on New Year’s Eve). But it’s also because I’m definitely giving off a hobo vibe.

I’ve been wearing my coat all day, both because it’s freezing in the office and because I’d like to be able to make a quick getaway should the need arise.
Not that I’m on the lam or anything—I just like to be ready.

[Sidebar: I’ve been craving lasagna and didn’t want to wake up today. I feel like Garfield.]

So, a few changes in Blacktress World™: I’m becoming a landlady! In an effort to fund my dreams and avoid total bankruptcy, I’m getting a roommate for a few months. After very little effort, I found a German PhD student who seems perfect. She’s only here until the end of May, she’ll be spending most of her time writing her dissertation, and she gets my humor. (Sometimes I don’t go over so well with the ESL crowd)

Of course, I’m nervous about having to share space after months of solitude, but I’m also looking forward to it. Having a roommate means I won’t be able to spend hours crying in the bathroom and I’ll have to maintain a higher standard of kitchen cleanliness. Great way to start off 2012!*

I also learned that she’s writing her dissertation on African American Anticolonialism. Can you believe it? Sojourner renting her space with a German who’s down with the brown?! If Harriet “TUBZO” Tubman could see me now!

*As you can probably guess, my depression is rearing it's ugly head. So much so that my coworker invited me to come to a wedding-cake tasting after work today--and I seriously considered it. I then realized that pretending to be engaged to someone for free cake would only fuel my self-loathing.

The Fuhrer of My Heart?????

Last night I was reminded why I always date awkward dudes who aren't particularly attractive to anyone but me.
It is because I am really awkward around hot people. Hot men especially.
Remember how I lived in the quaint Sydney suburb of Lilyfield, with a flatmate who was a hottie-mchot-hot German guy?
He was so hot, it was awkward for me to live with him. Seriously. I didn't poop for about 6 weeks. I was also really awkward, and since he was mostly studying and not too chatty, we would have sporadic 10-minute conversations where I babbled like an overexcited schoolgirl and he spoke with sharp German efficiency.
One time, I came upstairs and he was in the common area at his computer (per usual), wearing no shirt. I got really flustered and excited, and said, 'Dude, why are you not wearing a shirt? Put on some clothes.'
Unfortunately, he did not know it was Opposite Day, and what I really meant was, 'Dude, can you please take off your pants as well, and spoon me?'

He has the features I have discovered are quite common in the German man: a chiseled jaw and lips like a girl. Seriously, I have been swooning over these strapping lads. I love it!
Anyway, he is back in his homeland and I got to see him last night. I was really excited to hang out, even though we weren't close, mostly because he's just so damn fine, you know?

He suggested we head to a place called Winery, which warmed my heart because he knows I don't like beer, and I know that's all he drinks. It was a cool spot, where you only pay 1 euro for your glass, drink as much as you want, and pay what you feel you should. It might actually have taken the place in my heart that was once reserved for the Bourgie Pig, which has simply become to bourgie for me to afford.

Anyway, we were meeting up with some of his friends, which prevented me from probing deep into his soul as I'd hoped. I was late to our meeting, and being an efficient German, he chastized me thoroughly. I don't know if this is possible, but he was actually hotter than I remembered. This instantly caused me to start rambling about what I'd done so far, and how huge my crush was on Berlin, and my time with the gay mafia (I can't say more about them, for obvious reasons). This ridiculous rambling and interrupting took place whenever we'd start to chat throughout the night.
I was so rude and silly. Of course, because I want him so bad that I can't really think clearly, I have told him about man drama--you know, I'm trying to de-sexualize him and treat him like a gal pal, in hopes of making myself less weird.

It does not work. Now I just feel like this really hot guy knows way too much about me.
Like the fact that I was worried about "my vag hanging out" while riding a bike in a short dress through the streets of Berlin.

I did get to know much more about him, though. Apparently he has siblings, is getting a master's degree (can i call it a 'fuhrer' degree?), and has had his heart broken by a girl. He may have lived on struggle strasse briefly (more on that later). He has a lot of female friends, but not in the sketchy way. He is really funny and we spent an inappropriately long time quoting 'Team America'.


He is certainly a unicorn.
And he lives across 6 times zones.
Clearly this is the safest crush I can have at the moment. Nothing has happened, there is no way he could hurt me, our interactions have only been positive, and he doesn't have red hair! There's no chance in h-e-double-hockey-sticks that he would ever want me, and I can simply think of how pretty his face is.
I think the cold storage shed where my heart used to be can only deal with this much risk at the moment.
Who have I become?