Shanghai Vixen

Okay, so once the exhaustion and beer wore off, I feel very silly for getting all angsty about a Hmm - not even a crush, just a potential crush. Sometimes the best way to make a fool of myself is to worry about making a fool of myself.

I was working very late last night, too many stories with too little leeway between events and deadlines. Today made up for it though. A was one of my best friends in high school, and we’re still close. She had a big house with a nice pool, and with tolerant parents it was where we often had huge slumber parties, especially on New Year’s Eves and after school dances. We did wild, scandalous things at those parties, unmentionables like…board games. Math contests. Elaborate, twisted puns that went on to their silly extremes. Oh man I miss high school.

It was also at A’s house that I fell in love for the first time.

A’s parents are very cool, a lawyer and a sociologist, and they were always gorgeously tolerant about having a horde of adolescent nerds giddily screeching about the place. I last saw them five years ago, at A’s wedding, and had a nice catch-up. A few years ago, A warned me that they were contemplating a trip to China, and today finally they materialized.

It was great, great fun taking them around, showing someone from my past “my” Shanghai. We didn’t make it to our initial targets of the Old City and the Yangpu Jewish Ghetto, too far away, just tooled about the French Concession, eating and shopping and mostly observing. That is what Shanghai is best for. We even, rather awkwardly, bumped into Diamond Ho - who is always odd to see out of context, although it makes her seem more human than her usual positionings.

The Parental As had odd shopping desires: a suitcase, an umbrella, a DVD. They are impressive bargainers, mowing down the Shaanxi Lu guy where they found their suitcase even better than I could. Lihai lao ren! We started out at my house, which they found pretty easily, then walked to a great nearby xiaolongbao place. Then headed to Taikang Lu for the rest of lunch and some poking around. From there, we walked up to the Sun Yat-sen residence, and I was impressed with how well they know the Chinese history basics. 

We then poked around Fazujie some more, hacking some old mansions and window shopping in a criss-cross between Changle and Nanchang Lus. After the suitcase, we went to Garden Books, always pleasant, and then to Meilongzhen at their request. I’d never been, I was a bit bewildered by the banquety options, but we managed to get a good meal for only slightly more than they’d paid for the suitcase. It meant skipping the hairy crabs they wanted to try - at 200 RMB a pop. Nah. I would have rather taken them to Grape or Paul’s, with their mellower menus, but hey, we were already there. And I’m glad I tried the place. 

But I’m gladder for having reconnected with them. I think they were amused, ”Oh, so THIS is what became of [Shanghai Vixen]!” It takes seeing me in action to figure out, I think.

And now to drag myself to a rock concert; I would so rather stay home… 

This afternoon I got an email back from Little Building, a guy I kinda like. Only half in the LIKE like sense: I barely know him, but have had a great time the few times we have hung out, and we have enough close mutual friends that I think highly of him. I definitely like him, beyond the LIKE like sense. He’s not up to my usual hotness standards, but neither am I, and I do like geeky cute, and he’s a fascinating guy.

We’ve been ships in passing, missed signals for the last two years. I hear from some of the mutual friends that he’s single again. We’ve bumped a few times recently, I just invited him to a big party I held, but he had to pass for work obligations; and in inviting him I sent him some nice photos of him I shot last month. (No, they weren’t stalkery. We were hanging out. I was photographing everyone. Shut up. It was actually the big night with Mr. Complicated, all hanging out together, and that was fucking weird.)

Since he missed my party, I wanted to follow up, with a: 1, you’re cool, let’s yammer sometime when we’re not both in workoholic mode, and 2, asking about some concepts of Shanghainese culture he ranted about on his blog.

He took a few days to respond, which made me fear I’d made an ass of myself. Today though he sent a nice response, apologizing profusely for the late response and missing my party before answering my questions.

That would have been great, but, fucking timing. He then showed up at the final night of E-Arts, which was like an orgy of our mutual friends, and had me in full-on “it’s my neighborhood” bevvy-running mode.

It was awkward even before that. I was hanging out next to where he was for ages before noticing him there, bent over with hair-shag in face. He did likewise, albeit I lack hair-shag in face. Between sets, we chatted briefly. The email exchange, intended to facilitate friendship much more than potential interest, just made us both more awkward. Was he already on to me?

Because. I normally don’t go to his events much; unless one of his rare rock music things they’re not my scene, but in August and September I made several. Little Building started to notice, I noticed, with a few piercing glances on his side, waylaying me in the loo then only offering a quick hi.

Tonight was an exaggeration of that. Glance, avoided glance, counter glance. After the concert, I was rounding folk up to guide them to dinner, Little Building included, and two of my neighbors showed up. Our mutual friends surrounded, Shanghaihua cuteness ensued, then as soon as I was distracted LB fled, apparently taking his date - or was that the chick with the European husband? - into a taxi. Oh well; I was rather relieved.

At dinner, I went for the mixed table, of Shanghainese foreigners and Mr. Brilly and Beany, over the Shanghainese artist friends who I adore but who always force illness-inducing cigarettes and alcohol on me. I was in the midst of some idiotic, melodramic rant, not quite standing on a chair but I may have well have been, when….Little Building walked in.

You know? I was equally thrilled and annoyed. There went my attention to my friends et all, there came heaps of self-consciousness. Not least because I was at the semi-laowai table, while he pointedly made for the Shanghainese table. We made eye-contact as he came in, politely nodded.

More awkward and avoided glances ensued all night. At first I thought they were promising. Okay, he knows I like him, something accomplished. Soon, though, it felt like him avoiding me because of it.

That hurt.

I felt I was being neutral enough that we could both easily politely avoid the point. Mr. Smackeling, with no idea who, hearing I have a Shanghainese male crush, as a Shanghainese male advised I smack him with the probverbial two-by-four. And then take out a very large ad: “Vixen likes you!” And, I don’t even know him enough to know whether or not I like him.

Gelled over, though, fuck. I know, it’s awkward and uncomfortable. But it’s not like I was or am being agressive about it. Glances…hello! Come ON. Okay, it IS awkward because of the mutual friends and mutual scenes, but pretty innocent and cautious. Geeeez.

Mr. Smackeling, or I should say Ex-Mr. Smackeling, advises the direct approach. Of course, this is always predicated with “Why did Jifu ever break up with you? You guys were great. Much better than me and Ms. Smackeling…” And it goes downhill from there if I don’t change the subject.

So, my options here:
1. Which I prefer, is to pretend that nothing ever happened, play it cool, resume getting acquainted at the pre-proactive pace.
2. Maintain proactivity about friendship, ignoring the rest. This also isn’t bad. I do this with a lot of people. I do pursue friendships. Especially with Brilly gone, with my whole social life recalibrated from old default, it is fine and natural. Aside from the awkward glances.
This, I think, is the best Chinese passive-aggressive strategy.
3. The declartive. Yes I barely know you, but I hear you’re single, and you seem cool. Let’s get acquainted, and I’m sure we’ll become better friends regardless.

My dating philosophy was formed by the example of George Sand as represented in the film “Impromptu” - both she and Chopin could be seen as sterotypical representations of the “liberated” “Western” chick and the “passive” ”Asian” male. Only, none are so simple.

Except, 3. is bad, unless willing to sacrifice the potential friendship. Maybe this works as a progression? And I don’t even know whether I actually like him. God I miss high school.

Did I mention that dating sucks?

As does non-dating.

Life has been a succession of crazy blurs recently, with the Biennale then fall fashion flurry at the same time as E-Arts. The Xuhui section of that is in “my” park and organized by my friends, so it feels like a great big party being thrown for my benefit.

I approve.

Alas, I have been sick, and in no shape to enjoy this - or do all the work I need to.

Why this is even in an email draft form I don’t know. The quote I have above my desk:

Remember how about fifteen months ago I fell for and then under the wheels of a guy I call Yaya? Yeah, I know, I tried to forget it too.

Actually, I look back fondly, since it was the last time I was in love, and in the words of Joni Mitchell, I wish I were in love again. I then did a couple of posts with lyrics and videos that got me through the sting of that period, and had accumulated material for one more that I never finished. It’s below. Yes, my playlist these days is quite different.

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I have a new computer which I am setting up to become my main one, which means organizing and transferring all of my files. This - is no small task. Especially my emails.

In my draft box are a lot of half-done blog materials, long forgotten. Quotes and cobble-ations. Here’s one that someone forwarded me a while ago, nothing brilliant, but cute: