Dark-haired Men and Spanish Guitars

I was warned not to watch this movie ~ "It'll put thoughts in your head" was what the warning said. But being one to never heed the ACHTUNG! sign up ahead - I just had to go and do the opposite on a balmy Sunday night.

Now before the lil boy in the head starts straying off in the wrong direction - I do not have any remote tendencies to fall for dark-haired Spanish men, nor harbour any fantasies of sorts to engage in a daily arrangement of Ménage à trois either.

A short movie (or at least it felt short), I thought it was done in a funny fashion - with a narrator and dialogue lines written in short sentences, no rambling ons what-so-ever. The scenes do take one's breath away and left me wishing I had not booked my flight ticket back from Europe - I could maybe, just maybe, find some way to hop over to Barcelona and find a spanish guitar player performing in a gazebo somewhere on my own.

And that was where the danger sign came in handy. For what the hell would I do in Barcelona all on my own? To be immersed in such beauty and to turn to my left or right , only to find an empty space there, some presence demanding to be filled.

Cristina, on the other hand,
expected something very different out of love.

For some strange reason, my mind kept bringing me back to this snippet of conversation that took place in the wee hours of Friday morn, where a discussion took place on whether he would get along with a colleague of mine who is coming in from Dublin early June. "So long as he's crazy and he likes having a drink, I'm sure I'll like him, even if he's half German!" *Hmmm*

She had reluctantly accepted suffering
as an inevitable component of deep passion,
and was resigned to putting her feelings at risk.

It's all quite fuddy-duddy and I have resolve to conclude that men indeed are from Mars and women from Venus. And tis sad to admit as much cos I have always prided myself on being queued in on the male psyche. Yet, this one chap befuddles me absolutely, totally and thoroughly.

Or maybe it's just another one of my "reluctant acceptance" and needing to find some way of labelling this poor sorry tired excuse.I don't know and can't quite figure it out.

If you asked her what it was

she was gambling her emotions on to win,
she would not have been able to say.

And so Mandy was right - I really shouldn't have watched this movie. Now I'm gonna have to go and bug all my guy friends and ask them if all men were weird or it's just this one!