once you go black...

okay. i have a blog post for you. and no, it's not part ii of this. i'm sorry. i know. i'm a bit rubbish, aren't it? i've had numerous requests.

well, actually, fuck it. here, let me give you part ii:

his name is: leahcim. being indonesian, when he came to australia, he reversed his name to make it easier for people to pronounce.*

so now i can get on with the real blog post, right? it all started a few months ago. on a tram. it was a friday night. and i was a little drunk...

i was sitting in a seat that faces into the middle of the tram. out of the corner of my eye i could see a gorgeous boy sitting near me. not wanting to stare too much, i zoned out, played my ds and listened to my ipod. a few stops later a couple got on the tram and the woman sat next to me. she was talking to her husband/partner/whatever and yeah, they seemed kinda close but i wasn't really paying much attention. in another stop or two, the man asked if i would move (and move specifically to sit next to the super cute boy) so that he could sit next to the woman. this was actually very weird, for two reasons: i) if there was a ranking of tram seats (remember how they did that for the tube seats in london?) the seat that he was suggesting i move to was clearly the worst seat on the tram, squashed into the corner with zero leg room, and well below the standard of the seat that i was currently occupying; and ii) who ever asks anyone to move seats?! clearly these people were tourists or something.

anyway, when i sat down next to the super cute boy, i realised he smelt DIVINE! now, keep in mind that, as previously mentioned, i was a bit drunk. plus, i'd just been asked, under particularly odd circumstances, to sit next to this boy- it was fated, right?! i got out my phone and typed a message: "you smell delicious!" and then tapped him on the shoulder and showed it to him. i had mentally braced myself for an awkward 10 minute tram ride, but he laughed, got out his phone, and typed a message back to me.

to cut a long story short, i then proceeded to blatantly chat this boy up while everyone on the tram pretended not to watch. i managed to get his phone number, and i walked off the tram with a date for the following monday night. i was actually on a massive high- he was gorgeous, and i felt like i must have been super funny/amazing/smoking hot to have been able to get his number, not to mention a date. like, super-awesome, right?!

so we go for a date on monday and it was fucking fabulous. we had loads in common, we had a good time, and then we have sex. again, all good. he goes home, and he says we should do it again. i can only agree- after all, i'd had a really good time and he was gorgeous.

over the next week or two we exchange a few messages. but when i suggest we catch up again, he is cagey and says he is really busy. i have no doubt that that's true, so i be patient and wait it out. and i wait. and i wait. and i wait.

but i wait for nothing, because nothing happens. and i mean, seriously, what the fuck? in the words of macy gray: WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME?! i'm fucking, awesome, you idiot!! i have literally spent the last few months pondering this. what happened?

*****

months later (this morning, in fact), i finally work it out. because i see him at the organic food store with some other white girl. (i'm not even making this shit up- THE ORGANIC FOOD STORE! could you get any wankier?!) i hide. i hide up the back like the mature adult i am. i have a moment. i want to leave the store altogether, but my cupboards are seriously bare. i get my groceries and i get the fuck out.



* i) so that's it. that's the entire part ii. to be honest, i have no idea what i was originally thinking when i promised a follow up blogpost. there's really nothing more to tell. whatever idea i had for it, it has long since evaporated. but now you have his name, and that's the main thing, right?
ii) leachcim may or may not be his real name. you know, just in case that wasn't obvious.

who needs an alarm?

ding

it's 6:45 in the morning and that's my message alert tone.

mistress star, may i please use the bathroom now?

repeat. every morning this week.

fetlife

wanna be fetlife friends? i just joined. email or twitter me your username =D

a boy gives me a key

him: why do you have a key around your neck?
i wonder if he sees the fleeting look of panic in my eyes. i pause for a nanosecond before the practiced words arrive on my lips, and i silently congratulate myself for having thought ahead and prepared for this moment.
me: uh, i was tidying up the other day and i found it- i wasn't quite sure where to put it.

her: what's the key for?
me: i uhhh... i just found it the other day. i'm not sure where to keep it.
her: what's it for?
me: uhhh. a case, i think.
she nods and i realise that i have been holding my breath. i exhale slowly. this is getting easier.

him: you know you have a key around your neck, right?
me: uhhh... yeah.
him: i just thought i'd check.
whereas before the conversation has moved on easily, this time it doesn't. i've forgotten my lines. i am at work, and he is a work colleague. i stand awkwardly, wondering whether it is politer to fill the silence for the sake of filling it, or to save him the embarrassment and suffer the awkwardness. in my self-conscious mind, the noislessness stretches on and on, a weight of expectation upon me.
he is waiting for me to say something.
it is my turn to talk.
i panic.
i feel the truth, unsettled, bubbling inside of me.
i stutter.
i adopt a light, nonchalant tone.
me: yeah, a boy i'm seeing likes to keep his dick in a cage and he gave me the key. and really, what on earth is a girl supposed to do with such a thing?!

the mystery is over OR the story of how i found out his name: the back story

if you've been following my twitter feed, you'll know that finding out this boy's name, has been somewhat of a hobby of mine for the past few months. now that the mystery's finally over (i'm officially changing his name from "boy-i-don't-know-the-name-of" to "boy-i-didn't-know-the-name-of"), it's probably time for the whole story to come out. this post is part i: the back story. stay tuned for part ii over the coming week (read: when i get time to write it).

the facebook incident
i first met the-boy-i-didn't-know-the-name-of (this is ridiculous- i'm shortening it to bidktno) back in december last year. he is a good friend of a good friend, and his mocha-coloured skin had me drooling the first time i met him. knowing that he had just split with his fiancee, i didn't want to come over too strong, but wanted to see him. i did what any girl would do in this post-2008 world: i added him on facebook*. and then i sent him a message, asking if he'd like to catch up for coffee.

he replied to my message saying that he and his gf were heading to bali to see family for christmas, but that he'd love to catch up when i got back. YES, YOU READ THAT RIGHT- he said, he and his GIRLFRIEND! wondering what the fuck was going on, but not wanting to appear rude, i replied and told him to let me know when he was back in town. (he never did).

a couple of weeks later, our mutual friend was having a "thing" because he was moving to singapore for work. bidktno was there, and sans gf. i politely asked him how his trip to bali was and received a blank stare in response. he denied his entire trip to bali, and told me i must have been drunker than he thought the last time i saw him. (to be fair, i was pretty fucking drunk). not knowing how to respond, i finished my drink (lemonade), said goodbye to our mutual friend, and left the pub.

in the quiet moments during the dead of the night, i wondered what the hell happened with bidktno- why did he deny his trip to bali? where was his gf? were they back together? were they still engaged? in short: what the fuck was going on? weeks later my questions were answered with a message from our mutual friend on facebook. it read:

are you sleeping with bidktno? why are you friends with his brother on facebook?

YES. yes, that's right. (note: if you didn't read the note attached to the * up there about my "adding-on-facebook technique, you may like to do so now.) it turns out i did NOT add bidktno as a friend on facebook. i added HIS BROTHER. who i've never met. who has a girlfriend. and who went to visit his family in bali over christmas. clearly. (the mystery of why he assented to having coffee with a random stranger who added him on facebook is obviously another story altogether and not part of this tale.)

yet more weeks later, i was having an im conversation with our mutual friend in singapore and he asked me again about why i was friends with bidktno's brother. i poured out the whole story and he pissed himself laughing, which was only to be expected. but then, not so expectedly, he gave me bidktno's phone number.

most of the story between this point and now, you will know, ie: we had rubbish sex a few times, and i've been trying to find out his name ever since. the problem was, our mutual friend always referred to bidktno by a nickname- something that obviously wasn't his actual name. and i could never admit i'd had sex with bidktno, for fear of it getting back to other friends, and therefore, i could never ask him bidktno's name.

the address book incident
but the most brilliant (modesty aside, obviously) of these name-finding-out attempts has got to be the address book incident. you see bidktno and i work in the same industry, and i have contacts who work at the same company as him (or shall i say: contacts who have contacts). knowing bidktno's brother's name due to the completely embarrassing facebook incident, i (rather brilliantly, imo) asked one of my contacts to ask one of their contacts to look up his last name in the company address book. for hours i sat glued to my blackberry screen, waiting for a response to come back through, contact-to-contact.

finally, the much-awaited message arrived. the response indicated that there was one person with that last name in the address book. i read the name with trepidation! it was the moment i'd been waiting for! i scrolled down with my blackberry touchpad thingy...

... it was the brother's name. i experienced a moment's confusion before i remembered bidktno saying that his brother worked for the same company. there was no one else that worked there with the same last name. demoralised and dejected, i felt i was going to be destined to ignorance forever.

and THAT, my friends, is part i. stay tuned for part ii: the moment of truth.


*"but how did you add him on facebook if you didn't know his name?!" (i hear you ask). i spent two hours going through the profile pictures of all 300-odd of our mutual friends' friends looking for one that looked like him, and was friends with the right group of people.

england: tick

should i feel kinda sad that i had to come all the way back to australia to tick this box? yeah, probably.

very minor internet celebrity

i had dinner with a friend of mine last night. i guess we both knew it was a precursor to something else. dinner included french cider in eugene von guerard's living room, watermelon granita (at pellegrini's- where else?) and fabulous cocktails in a very cosy corner. it was a great night. but the best part had nothing to do with the drinks, at all. it was when he turned to me and said:

so, i won't end up in your blog, will i?

i didn't even know he knew i had one.