I'm doing what?!

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The reason I got into blogging at first is to journal. To put pen to paper and to write. Freely, and without censorship.

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I've always loved to write.
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But what started off as something I wanted to do for me, somehow ended up being something I do for others.

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Don't get me wrong, I love it. I love blogging. In fact, I love it so much that I forgot that it was supposed to be about me, and it became all about you, the readers.

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I look for comments and rejoice in the fact that there are some, or equally I am puzzled by other posts I write that hardly get any comments at all. As mentioned, at some point or another, slowly my writing changed and instead of 'journaling' as I'd intended, I'd turned into a comment counter.
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Which brings me to now:

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I'm writing a book. Probably not a great book, or even a good book. But nonetheless I am writing it and it's all mine.

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( Amazing, isn't it, that if you throw enough money at someone they will publish any old garbage?! )

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I've compiled a bunch of short stories, mostly like a diary, from my past that I would like to remember - or at least have someone read to me as I get old - that will remind me that I lived a full life and that each chapter of that life was filled with something memorable.

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Not everything in my life has turned up roses, and I'd like to remember that part as well. As I get older, I like to forget certain things I've said or done that paint me in a negative light, or that show my unflattering selfish ways, but those too, I've documented in this book.

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When it is finished, I will keep it, and perhaps when my kids are grown, they will read it and maybe for the first time in their life they will see me as I was, before I became their mama.

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"The night before we left on our trip, we went out to a club locally. Drunk and hot on the dance floor, I actually literally bumped into K. We both stopped in the middle of the dance and just stared. I was still mad, and tried to walk away. He grabbed my arm and escorted me outside. He wanted to talk. Reasonable as he always was, K told me how I had hurt him with my ultimatum. He said he never pictured himself with anyone else and he couldn't believe we hadn't talked in so long. He wanted to make up for lost time and hang out.I told him about my 2 week vacation coming up and he made me promise I'd call him once I got back. I promised I'd think about it.

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When my gal pal and I arrived at our vacation resort, we realized we were in heaven. Hot air filled up the airport as we stepped off the plane. Smoggy hot air. No airconditioning in sight. After a long cold winter, to us, it was heaven.The taxi driver drove like a maniac all the way to our hotel. It looked much fancier in the brochure but we didn't care. It was clean and it was in a tropical place. For the next couple weeks, it'd be home.I proceeded to unpack my suitcases, but my fun loving friend persuaded me to leave them and head out on the town. A quick change out of our travelling clothes and we were ready to party. There is nothing like being young and single on vacation with a girl friend. The world is your oyster.

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The first bar we went into, we sat down and met two other 'white girls' who became our bossom buddies for the night. Shooters, drinks and tequila shots flowed freely. Smoking like there's no tomorrow. Yup, this was the life.Our waiter was a very exotic looking fellow with dark curly long hair. You could tell that without the product holding it together it was unmanagably curly hair. It made me want to grab it and hold on to it. His eyes were the darkest of dark with long black eyelashes. When he smiled, he flashed perfectly white and straight pearly whites. One earing in one ear, and when he leaned in to poor the drinks I could see that he had a cross necklace through his unbuttoned shirt.

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The accent and exotic look were too much for me. I asked for his name. It was G. I introduced myself, and asked the girls to take a picture of my mystery man and myself. Oddly enough it didn't scare him off. I smiled brightly and he dutyfully posed for the camera.As we were getting ready to leave I took my napkin of the table and wrote "What time do you get off?" He took the napkin (later I learned it was to get it translated, as he hardly spoke -let alone read- english)and when he returned there was "5AM" written on it.I gestured that I would come back for him at that time, and he seemed exited as well. We barhopped some more, getting back to the hotel around 3am. As my girlfriend passed out in the bed next to me, I called the front desk for a wake up call for 4:40am. I took a cab and went back to the bar where G was.

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I'm sure he never expected to see me, as he seemed pleasantly surprised. I stayed until they cleaned up, and at the end of his shift, a bunch of them went out for breakfast. I joined them, my first taste of deliciously local food. As my tastebuds rejoiced, my eyes feasted only on G.I hardly knew him, but I couldn't keep my hands off him. He was only too happy to oblige, and we went back to his apartment and made love in his pool. Then we fell asleep wrapped in each others arms and I spent most of the morning taking in his scent. He was unlike any other man I had been with. He was nothing like sweet K. He was daring, exotic, mysterious and dangerous. He looked like trouble and I was hooked. That afternoon when we finally woke up, we talked for the first time. Really talked. It was rough at first as I didn't speak his language at all and he barely spoke mine. But we managed. We drew on napkins, we acted out charades and made sound effects in order to get ourselves understood. To tell you the truth, we clicked immediatly and neither one of us seemed concerned about the language issue.

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We took a cab back to my hotel, where my poor roomate was frantic that I hadn't returned. Her mouth dropped when she saw me with G. Even more surprised was she when I told her I'd be taking my bags and 'storing them' at G's apartment for now. I wanted to be with him every second of this short 2 weeks and she thought I had gone mental.Of course we had the normal "how do you know he's not some psycho?" conversation, and she reminded me that he probably thought I was some easy chick from abroad looking for a fling. She told me to be careful and safe and I assured her I'd see her that evening after G went to work.

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For the next 2 weeks, I hung out with my girlfriend in the evenings and partied with her, but I always found my way back to G's bar before closing time to pick him up and 'go home'. G had a motorcycle and on his days off we'd take off and explore the surroundings. It was so different being with him, there were no rules. He did what he wanted when he wanted. He and I answered only to each other. We talked about our home lives, our families and how we grew up. We noticed similarites in our upbringing and cultures that at first one may not see right away. We bonded and for the first time in my life I had met someone who, like me, thought the only thing that mattered in life was love.

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All else would fall into place."

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Now don't you go worrying your pretty little heads, I will still blog for comments on this blog!