Caipirinhas

Do any of my many, many fans out there (I think there's about a dozen of you) know what a Caipirinha is?  I didn't, until very recently.  And I still don't.  But it's become inextricably linked with some of the frustrations of the past few days.  Really.  In my head, Caipirinhas have become something mythical and magical.  It's probably the best drink in the world.  It might make rainbows burst onto my tongue.  For all I know, every Caipirinha comes with its own complementary Tardis - and anyone who knows me, knows that all I've ever wanted in this world is my very own Tardis.

Be warned, this posting might sound a bit whiny and self-pitying after a while.  I'll try to avoid that.  It's bewilderment rather than misery that's motivating it, though.

To set the scene... for the past four years, I've been on a site called Couchsurfing.  It was set up so that people could travel the world on a budget.  They'd visit a city, but before they got there, they could check the site for potential hosts.  There's a sort of culture sharing ethos going on.  In exchange for a couch (or a bed or whatever sort of hospitality is involved) you offer something that isn't money.  Company, friendliness, cooking... just whatever works.

I haven't surfed much with the site, because I have Asperger's Syndrome and that causes a few social anxieties.  I don't like the thought of visiting someone and then, perhaps being a burden because I don't get on with that person.  I'm not the best judge of most social situations, so I'm constantly stressing that perhaps I'm missing some sort of cue that any other person would pick up on.  Perhaps I'm unwittingly annoying people or being creepy or something like that.  These anxieties are usually not all that bad, but if I'm in someone else's home and taking their hospitality, the stresses can be compounded.

I do host people, though.  I've been doing that for a while, now.  Sometimes it really works.  Other times it doesn't.  And sometimes a person's initial email can be pretty misleading.

My current guests - a young couple I'll call "B" and "E" - seemed really nice when they first got in touch.  E wrote the email and a key phrase was "B is an excellent caipirinha-maker and if you're not familiar with the Brazilian drink, we'd be glad to introduce you to it."  That seems pretty unambiguous, but even today - on my birthday, when it would seem fairly appropriate to do so - the drink has been conspicuously absent.  The message was really cool - they both sounded like nice people and it was clear that they'd read my profile, so that was great.  I liked them.  The Caipirinha definitely swung it, though.  Someone offering to make me a drink is definitely going to entice me.

So I was really looking forward to the Caipirinha and I asked about it last night.  Just a description so I could find out a bit more about what it was.  And when they described it, it sounded even nicer.  Rum and lime... sounds good to me.  I know they're on a budget, so perhaps I should have bought the ingredients or something.  Made it a bit easier on them.  If everything was available when they got in, then perhaps we could have spent an evening drinking Caipirinhas.

Their stay hasn't been as easy as I anticipated, though.  The first night, they seemed pleasant and I had a great time with them.  They cooked up a pasta dish for me and I opened a bottle of Port that my sister had given me as an early birthday present and shared that with them.  They were curious about the massage therapy I used to do, so I gave them both acupressure massages.  A friend of mine recently gave me an Oakworks Desktop Portal, so I was able to use that.

(I used to specialise in acupressure therapy.  It's a sort of deep tissue massage, which is delivered through clothing so the client doesn't have to get undressed.  I'd probably still be doing that professionally, if I hadn't been in a car accident that messed up my shoulder in 2009).

But it's been much harder to talk to them since then.  I've been working late on various digital animation projects just lately, so have been sleeping late.  They get up while I'm still in bed, go out into the city and come back in the evening.  That's basically a problem with timing, so it's not like anyone can be held responsible for it.  The rest of it, though, is more frustrating.

We've had occasional stabs at conversation, but I've been finding it difficult to talk to them.  They've seemed a bit distracted.  Partly due to their having to cook something to eat, because they've just got in, but also because that seems to be their time to get online and sort out some internet stuff.  That's when my AS issues start kicking in a bit.  I find myself stressing about whether I'm interrupting them.  I know how irritating it is when I need peace to do something online and someone is distracting me.  And I know what it's like to want to cook something and someone is distracting me.  So... if they appear preoccupied... I don't want to distract them.

I should point out that my own budget is an issue here, right now.  I haven't had much work lately, so there's absolutely no money at the moment.  Normally, when I have guests, I try to cook for them so that I'm contributing to the food as well.  I don't want to just eat their food, like I expect them to feed me or something.  And since I don't have enough available to make up proper meals right now, I've been trying to time my meals so that I've eaten before they get back, so they can eat without having to stretch their food to include me as well.

So... typically for me... I've been erring on the side of caution.  A couple of stabs at conversation, that don't go well, so I worry that I'm being irritating.  So I go the other way and I withdraw, to a certain extent.  My own laptop actually becomes like a bit of a shield. The lack of camaraderie (or whatever term you want to use) doesn't get too awkward, because now I'm preoccupied as well.  But then, that leaves me wondering if it's the fact that I've withdrawn that's making it difficult to talk.  Which would make it my fault rather than theirs.  And it just keeps on spiralling like that.

The other complication is the sleeping arrangements.  There are limited options.  I have a large, double bed mattress that I can put down onto the floor of my bedroom.  That involves sharing the room with me, though, and that's not an option that everybody is cool with, which makes sense.  Or there's the couch and the floor space in my sitting room.  That's less comfortable, but it has privacy.  I have a spare room too, but it's not available right now.

(Incidentally, I told them about all this in advance.  I made it clear what options there were and left it up to them to decide whether those options were cool with them before they got here.  Just in case any of you think these limitations were sprung on them only after they got here.)

So they went for the privacy option and for the first two nights, they slept in my sitting room.  But then, that made me feel bad, too.  I have a huge, double bed all to myself, while two people - guests of mine - are trying to make themselves comfortable in my sitting room.  And since I'm in the bed, but I'm not even sleeping - I'm working for hours on various digital art projects - it really feels like I'm being selfish.  It hardly seems like good hospitality.

So tonight - their third night - I've given them my bed instead.

I can't count how many times this has happened, by the way.  I've often accepted guests on the proviso that they take either the sitting room or the mattress on my bedroom floor - and then, when they arrive, I end up giving up my bedroom.  But in this case, they want to go to sleep at 10:30 in the evening, which makes the choice even simpler.  I genuinely don't want to have to go to my bedroom that early, so letting them take my bed is the better option.  Also, my sitting room and kitchen are combined, so I'm pretty much disconnected from both rooms if I don't use that option.

It doesn't help that my sleep patterns have messed up again.  On their first night here, I was still awake at almost 8AM, so I was falling asleep as they were getting up.  Then last night, I was awake until about 4AM, so the same thing happened.  So both days, they went out into town without disturbing me.  Now, if there's any blame to be dealt out (and I'm really trying to find alternatives to the whole blame game thing) then that bit is definitely my fault rather than theirs.

Bearing all that in mind, there have been a couple of details that have been more difficult to accept or make allowances for.  There have been opportunities for them to extend a bit of social courtesy.  The fact that they've chosen not to do so, has been fairly telling.

Last night they came back to the flat in the early evening, but they had plans.  They had something to eat, then went back out again to join one of the free ghost tours.  At this point I was looking for an opportunity to hang out with them and try to break down the barrier to socialising, so I would have gone along with them if they'd invited me to join them.  They didn't offer, so I didn't want to presume.  I suppose I could have offered to walk into town with them.  Show them the short way through the Grassmarket.  If I'd done that, I could have worked out whether I would have been welcome, without making an awkward scene if they preferred to go alone.  So... once again, I'm left wondering whether it's my own fault and whether I'm the one that's making it difficult for them to socialise with me - and not the other way round.

The thing that's bugging me most of all, though, is tomorrow.  They're meeting a friend so they can have some sort of party before they go to the street party. And they know that I don't have any plans for the bells, just yet.  And they know that's bothering me, because I really want to be doing something.  And this is Hogmanay.  It's a big event in Scotland.  Every year, I have a stressful Christmas and a shit birthday, and I can cope with that, because I know that Hogmanay is coming up.  The big party.  The first footing, the traditions, the drinking.  The fact that Scottish people really know how to celebrate our culture, fully and without reservation or irony.  Christmases and birthdays are OK.  They can be fun or they can be shit.  But Hogmanays are amazing.

They're also completely dependant on finding a party, though.  You can not celebrate Hogmanay on your own.  OK... some people do.  You hear about people who are happy with a glass of whisky with just one person they love.  They wait for the bells, they toast each other, they bring in the new year and they have a quiet, happy, contemplative moment.  And that's cool, too.  Maybe one year, that's going to be all I want and need.  But not yet.  Anyway... even in the scenario I just described, it's still two people.  There's still companionship going on.

Well, I can't help thinking that… maybe… since B and E are going into town and since they're meeting up with a loose group of people and since they're just chilling out before the street party... then maybe I wouldn't exactly be intruding if I was asked along.  Maybe it would be a nice gesture.  A friend of theirs is in town and they're meeting her and the rest is revolving around meeting various people who are connected through mutual friends.  Nothing particularly organised - not at that stage.

And that's the bit that bugs me most of all.  Surely they could have asked me along without really putting themselves out.  On our first night, we definitely spoke about Hogmanay and the traditions.  I told them that the one thing I took very seriously was the first footing.  The first person into your home in the new year has to fulfil certain characteristics, because that person brings along all the luck for the following year.  I am practically a stereotype of a lucky first footer, so one thing I made sure that they both knew - no matter what happened or what plans we all made individually, I was going to be the first person to step into my flat in the new year.  Even if we were all sitting in my sitting room and toasting each other during the bells and I literally stepped outside just for a second, then stepped back inside again - even if it came to that, I was going to be my own first footer.  For as long as I've lived alone, year after year, I've been my own first footer.  I've always had a bottle of single malt with me.  I've always opened it in someone else's home, toasted the new year, had a great time and shambled home drunk, tired and happy, hours later.

(One year I celebrated Hogmanay in Florida.  I bought a bottle in anticipation of the first footing, then when the moment came - when I opened it - the cork broke in the bottle.  Prior to that, if anyone asked me whether I genuinely believed in the superstition, I would have said no.  But when that cork broke, I had a serious feeling of foreboding.  This was like a very, very, very bad omen.  I refused to drink from that bottle, even though all my friends were telling me not to take it so seriously.  They all took a drink but I didn't join in.  I simply refused to touch it.  That year, I was in a car accident that destroyed my career, I lost my home and a most of my possessions, I had a lot of other bad luck.  I wasn't exactly cavalier about the first footing before that, but I definitely take it more seriously, now.)

Anyway, I didn't exactly set out to describe this year's limited options to B & E.  They asked me what my plans were and I said I was going to a party at 3AM, but before that I didn't know what I would be doing.  I admitted that I was starting to stress about that a little, because it's the one hour of the one night of the year that I want friends around me - but that this year, my various friends and family were in Arbroath, Gorebridge and Greenock.  Or were doing other things.  I definitely didn't set out to make it look like I needed to be bailed out, but over the course of the conversation, two things definitely became known.  One is that Hogmanay is the festival that genuinely animates me.  And the other is that this year,  I have absolutely no plans.

Bearing that in mind, it would have been nice if they'd asked me to join in with at least part of their plans.  But there hasn't been a hint of an invitation.  At one point, it occurred to me that the ploy I missed out on last night - offering to walk with them and show them the short way to wherever they're going - could be a viable one.  But I dismissed that right away; it was a thought that came to me in a weak moment and it wasn't worthy of me.  Self-respect had stepped aside - just for a few seconds - and that pathetic little thought popped up to tempt me.  There's no way I'm going to tag along, hoping they'll take pity or something like that.  And that's what that would amount to.

I really am more bewildered than anything else, here.  There's irritation and frustration, too - that's undeniable.  But above all else, I just keep trying to think that there must be a reason for being excluded like this.  Because I don't think they're being cruel or selfish or anything like that.  But I also keep thinking... has it really just not occurred to them to invite me along?

So their plans...  They're going out again tomorrow morning.  And they're coming back around 5PM to pick up their things.  They were originally going to stay until the 2nd, but I think they changed their minds when I started trying to figure out the best way to make our schedules work out without leaving anyone stranded outside.  They'll be gone from 5(ish) to - at the very earliest - 1AM.  And probably much, much later if they find a party to join.  I'll be gone from around 3AM and I definitely won't be back until much, much later.  That's all very vague and I don't want anyone to be stranded outside in the cold without keys because that person has returned home first.

I've been pretty flexible with B & E until this point, but that's the one area where I don't want to compromise.  I first foot myself and I don't want to leave my only guaranteed party before I'm ready to.  So I tried to discuss with them what their options were.  I could step outside and first foot myself before I left for the party - that was taken care of.  And if they were likely to get back at a realistic hour, they could have the keys and let themselves in.  I thought it was fairly reasonable to at least try to come up with some sort of vague schedule.  Not even a particularly restrictive one.  Just a means of minimising the potential for being locked out in the cold.

Ultimately, though, their solution is that when they come back here at 5PM, they're going to collect their things and leave.  They'll spend the rest of their time in Edinburgh with someone else.  This friend of theirs that they're meeting, I think.  I really felt bad about that.  It made me feel like I'd forced them out or something like that.  But the only realistic alternative I could think of was either to stay at home so that I could let them in when they got back or give them the keys and hope they got back before I did.

It was much, much later that something else occurred to me.  They're going out tomorrow morning.  Coming back in the evening.  Picking up their stuff and leaving.  Which means there are going to be no Caipirinhas.  Now, I'm the kind of person who watches John Cleese attacking his car with a branch and thinks that's a perfectly acceptable and understandable response.  So when I suddenly realised I wasn't going to get a fucking Caipirinha, I was absolutely gutted.  I want a Caipirinha.

(Incidentally, if you'd asked me to guess what a Caipirinha was a few days ago - before I'd been told - I would have had a very inaccurate mental image of one.  A sort of large, rodent-like creature.  I realise now, that I was thinking of a capybara.)

Anyway... that's it.  End of complaint.  And if you've read this whole thing, then you deserve a reward.  A drink, maybe.  Well, you're not getting a fucking Caipirinha from me.