So here it is...my 2nd ever
daylog. Probably not my last, though I seldom feel like noding one. And WHEN I feel like a noding a daylog, there is a reason for it. It is something I do NOT want to forget, so that even if it fades from my memory, I will always have a way to look back, and remember.
Here it starts...
It had already been a week since I'd last sawn Amanda. Amanda, the pretty American exchange student who came from Seattle, liked Rock music and thought it was so cool to have someone here in Germany who she could talk to in her home language. We'd met 3 times already...well, 4, counting the first time we met, at this Punk music gig in the local Jugendzentrum. After that followed a night in a "Grunge-Disco" in Darmstadt, then a couple cups of coffee a couple days later and then watching Pulp Fiction and The Usual Suspects at my house while my Mom and sister were in Scotland for the weekend.
It sounds like I had it made, eh?
Well, you don't know me. In all that time we spent doing stuff, not ONCE did I touch her. SHE was the once who touched my knee, laughed at a joke and gave me a playful shove. But did I do anything? No. I was too afraid to make a first move, too damned scared to even hint that I was interested. And so the weeks went by, until yesterday.
I asked her if she wanted to go ice skating with me and my "crew". She said yes. I shaved, brushed my teeth, styled my hair, threw a caffeine pill. Zipped over to my friend Timon's house. We were running late, but eventually we got outside and jumped into Timon's car. Then the door wouldn't close. The clock was ticking. We finally took his Mom's minivan. Still, yet again, Fate was somehow against us, the windshield almost completely iced over, the road also.
But we made it to Amanda's place, 20-25 minutes late. My heart jumped as I saw her, still there. But once again, nothing seemed to work. The road being a virtual lane of ice, we couldn't make it to Frankfurt. So we went to our favorite pool bar. And that is when the evening turned for the better.
Sure, my heart was hammering and I had the constant feeling of being very pukesick, but we played a couple of good games (we guys lost, damn). Now, some things, like Amanda buttoning down her shirt somewhat, or her supposedly jealous look as Timon's ex-girlfriend came up to me and gave me some tips on the next shot were things I heard of afterward. Maybe she just overheard the "tips" the girl had gave me, which, in fact, were actually tips on what "moves" I should make next, if you catch my drift. In any case, I finally pushed myself to strategically place an arm behind her headrest on the bench we were sitting on. SHE DID NOT MIND. You must understand, gentle noder, this was an outright shock to me. "This kind of thing works?", was the first thing that went through my mind. Had I been so inept at reading her body language? Had she wanted this all along? Human warmth? MY human warmth?
Now, this was of course on a Sunday, though everyone had Christmas break anyway, but Amanda didn't want to get home all to late. But before we drove everyone, including her, home, we hit our local tavern, the "Klamotte" for an hour or so. A cozy place, relatively cheap, lot's of people you know. And so here we spent the better part of the hour talking about our parents, drugs, music...
Finally, though, it was time for her to go. We dropped off everyone else, first. During this time, we cozied up a little on the back seat...
...no, not what you think. Just sitting there, close to each other, my arm around her. But still, a wonderful feeling, something I wouldn't trade for the world. Did we kiss that night? No. It didn't seem right, too much people, not enough privacy. But that didn't matter to me, not at all. Even after two hours, after hanging out at Timon's for a while, I still fairly bounced home.
And here it ends...
I'm seeing her next weekend.
Update: I DIDN'T see her the next weekend. She didn't have time.