Bring on 2010

Time really is a great healer. And with it comes many a splendid thing.Hmm how many more cliches can i fit into this?

At this time of year we all tend to look back at the past twelve months. It can be very carthartic or equally depressing to look back and see what you have and haven't achieved. The end of one year and the start of another makes many reflect on where they thought they might be by now, and what you had hoped to have achieved. But it also makes you look at where you want to be and how much the little things have changed.

If i look back exactly a year ago, i could be a different person. A lot has happened for me in 2009, and not all of it happy. But i don't think i'd have it any other way. I now feel at my most confident. It's strange really as i started the year at probably my lowest point. Then a few months later i was made redundant from my dream job. I've always said you need the pain to appreciate the pleasure, and i still stand by that, no matter how horrible the pain is.

At the end of 2009 a whole heap of things changed for me, none more so than my love life. I'll get to that in a minute. Excitingly i've been offered (and have accepted) a new job in the City. I'll be back doing PR but this time not for an agency but in-house. I will be the client for once! It's going to be a massive learning curve for me and i'd be lying if i didn't say i'm a bit apprehensive. The money's not great, but the experience will look fabulous on my CV. Sometimes you have to take a risk and hope it pays off. I feel i've been doing that for most of my adult life so why change now?!

The very same week i was offered the job, my love live did a somersault and i've somehow gained a boyfriend! It's literally been a matter of weeks. However he has been courting me over email for about 5 months. Although i was too blind to see it.

What makes it doubly exciting is that he's a work colleague, although he's been working in South Africa for the past 6 months trying to get his new visa sorted. That's how it started. I had only been working where i am currently for a week or so when he left so i had only had about two conversations with him. Next thing i know i get an email maybe once a week, then we're friends on Facebook where he comments on most of the things i write, then the emails increase to one a day. as the months drew on we played noughts and crosses over email and spent the whole day chatting. And there i was thinking he was just bored! I knew i had started to feel something but decided to leave it. It wasn't clear when he was coming back to London and i knew of his reputation as a ladies man so i figured i'd take it all with a pinch of salt.

It took us exactly four days of him being back in the country before we kissed. We then spent four consecutive days in my bed. I went back to my parents for Christmas and he was in constant contact with me. I had countless emails, text messages, facebook chats. It really seems like he simply cannot get enough!

I'd be lying if i said i wasn't COMPLETELY freaked out by this behaviour. I've never come across this. A guy who likes me, is not playing games, won't sleep with me on the first night we spend together because we haven't been on a proper first date, looks after me when i was feeling poorly, emails me every half hour at work, wants to spend every lunchtime, tea break, fag break with me. Intense? Err, yeah! But you know what, i'm going to do my best not to ruin this by being a typical British, cynical woman. It's not my fault that most guys i've been with are shits and don't know how to treat a girl. Just in the last few days i've let myself go with it. And it's fun. And lovely. And hot!

It turns out his reputation is just that, a reputation. He's pretty much the office sex pest, but actually all he is is a massive flirt. He doesn't follow through. Well apart from with me! He's desperate to tell everyone at work, and some people do already know, but we don't want it to look like i'm leaving because of him!

I know people are probably reading this thinking "don't be an idiot, he's just going to screw you over, it's all talk" but actually i've got to know him over the past few weeks and i feel like maybe i can start to trust him. I've been known to always think the worst. But maybe it's time to change that.

Plus i've never been with a man who's so "giving" in all my life ;-) (sorry that's possibly too much info...hehe)

social butterfly with no direction

I know, I know it feels like years since i've blogged...i've just had sooo much going on i just don't know where to start!

My birthday was great, what with the sombrero wearing Mexican evening, Angel night out and hungover Sunday. My lovely friends from Manchester and Derby came down to celebrate, old friends from home turned up, the Stokey crew were there in force and new "friends" were made...Playing "guess who" at 3 in the morning was a highlight for all involved i'm sure!

My TV debut went off with a bang...(for those that don't know i was on Dating in the Dark on Living)i had a houseful of fans, my phone was ringing off the hook and my Facebook page had gone crazy! I was really quite nervous about the whole thing but actually it wasn't bad as it could've been. Yes i got some hate mail, but hey, that's when you know you've arrived, right?! It wasn't anything to terrible and i got more fan mail from strangers than i did hate mail. I can't quite describe what it felt like to sit there and watch myself on telly, with all my friends (who didn't know the outcome) screaming at the screen. I sat wondering if it was really me...that girl with the posh voice and overly expressive face!

Now i don't know if it's my recent fame (and i use the word "fame" very loosely) but i seem to be doing ok on the dating front (and not just in the dark!). A couple of weeks back i was out with work for one of the PR girls leaving do's.An ex More2 employee turned up too see her off and he heard about the show. We only chatted for about 10 minutes as i then left the party early (i'd had plans to go out with Tico - but he cancelled earlier that day - that's the last of him!. A week later one of the PR girls said she knew someone who liked me, which i was rather surprised about. It seemed that the guy from the leaving party had took a shine to me, or at least that's what Rose told me. She asked if she could give him my email and i thought why not.

I've now been on three dates with the Italian/Aussie with a fourth date planned next weekend. I'm feeling good about it, i don't seem to have any reservations at the moment, but then i guess that's how it should be. It's early days but i'm hoping our next day will be just as good if not better then the ones before.

While all this has been happening, my housemates friend also asked me out for a drink (let's call him Dave). Now this is a first for me, dating two guys at the same time. And i know there's nothing wrong with it if you're just "dating", which i am (i'm turning over a "good girl" leaf you see) but i actually don't know how to play this game. Do you keep it all secret? Do you bring it up or is that making a big deal out of it when it's only a drink? What if you end up liking them both? I'm a single twenty something girl living in London, meeting new people all the time. There's nothing wrong with keeping my options open right? Well, like i said i don't know how to play this. So i told both guys that i had another date. And you know what, it actually made things easier for me! Mainly because the Aussie/Italian stepped up his game and the other guy also seemed extra keen. It also made things clearer for me, i realised that although Dave and i had a great date, with dancing and me out drinking him (nothing new there!) i couldn't get the other guy out of my head, for whatever reason. So in the end, i told Dave (after he rang me three times) that i wanted to see how things went with the Aussie/Italian.

So things are going pretty well on the social scene for me right now. However my career is much to be desired. Particularly as i don;t seem to have one! I really don't know what to do next, what to look for, what i'm good at. To be honest, i feel quite lost.

Party Season

Me and one of my single friends (of which i have one or two) were discussing the severe lack of single men action experienced by the both of us this summer. It seems the hot weather - or should i say warm weather - seems to cause a bit of a man drought. They're all busy off on their lads holidays, or playing footy in the park, or round at a mates for a BBQ. They're all quite happy being single.

We have come up with a theory. We are now approaching official party season. And yes, it's meant to be all about meeting guys at summer weddings and BBQs but really, does that ever happen? The real party season is leading up to Christmas. There are loads of birthdays in Autumn (mine included) as that's when our parents were all getting jiggy at Christmas (bleugh)and as the nights drawn in and the temperature drops, guys are more willing to slow down and look around to find us single gals right under their noses. Suddenly cuddling up on the sofa on a winters night watching a dvd doesn't seem like such a horrible situation to be in, and let's face it, Christmas without a special someone by your side can be pretty depressing (take it from one who knows). Long weekends snuggled up by the fire, romantic strolls around a wintery park, festive parties with no one to kiss under the mistletoe - all much better with that special someone.

So roll on cold weather! I'll be waiting for plenty of lonely men to realise having a girlfriend is not that bad!

Nerves

So...everyone seems to want to know when i will be making my TV debut. It's making me very nervous. This is mainly because i have no idea how well (or otherwise) i will come across. I have to watch the show along with everybody else, i don't get a preview so i can vet who should be watching it and who shouldn't be!

Why should i be worried? Well, there are one or two silly things that i said that i just know will be picked up on...they do like to edit these things in the worst way possible to make "entertaining" TV. I just hope no one gets offended...

Ahhh!

Coupled with these nerves is the dread that i'm going to look like a heifer on telly, with a weird squeaky voice that sounds nothing like me. It's gonna be cringe-a-go-go...

I think i might skip the country. I really don't want to come into work the next day!

Eeeeek

Back to reality

Hello world! I'm back!And my what an interesting few weeks i've had!

Where to start???

well, The Big Chill was absolutely fantastic! Haven't felt so happy in a long time. Awesome atmosphere, glorious weather, lots of cider and fantastic live music. Everything i could want from my first festival. The loos weren't bad either! I enjoyed being dirty (by that i mean unshowered) for 4 days and dining on different world cuisine - something The Big Chill does very well. I jumped around like a loon to basement jaxx, raved it up to Orbital, lounged in the sun to Max Romeo, sang along to Friendly fires and fell in love with Lamb...well in actual fact Andy from Lamb. I even managed to get a hug! But was totally uncool and i'm pretty sure he thought i was on something. I can safely say that all i was on was festival joy! Still, wished i'd thought about what i was gonna say before i opened my mouth!

I haven't felt so relaxed in such a long time, it made me so happy. Oooh and i bought a bubble sword, got interviewed by ITN and got my photo taken for Amnesty's website. At this rate i will be famous!

And on that note, i was only back home for two nights before being whisked off to Wimbledon to start my reality TV career. No joke. And i hate most reality tv! Ironic... I spent 5 days in the "dating in the dark" house. Can't say too much, you'll just have to watch Living TV in September /October to find out what happens to me.

Now i'm looking for my next adventure...off to Northampton this weekend but not sure that's quite enough (sorry Laura, i love you, what i mean is i need something BIG!).

What can top reality TV? Hmm, well i'll have to think of something. Look out world, i'll be in Heat Magazine next!

x

Lacking in "love" life

Where oh where to start...?!

Well i guess the "love" life is always a good place. Probably the most complicated yet exciting part of my life! Yet distinctly lacking in "love". But perhaps that's a good thing for now. I can concentrate on having fun instead...and ooh yes i've been trying to do that!

I was dating a guy a few weeks back who seemed pretty interested in me. I, of course, was quite surprised by this and instantly began to worry about it. "It" being the future. It's a girl thing i think, we find it very difficult just to live for the now and not worry about what might or might not happen later. But really, it turns out i had good reason to worry, as this lovely, sexy, funny guy is too old for me and has baggage in the form of two kids. One of which is closer to my age than I am to his Dad! Ouch. (Perhaps i should ask HIM out...joking!) So there i was worrying about it all, even though we've only been on a few dates and there's totally no pressure from him, wondering what i was going to say to him on our next date if he asked to come back to mine (which was more than likely as on the previous date he asked and i pretended to be coy and said he had to wait...first time for everything!)

So guess what happened...he stood ME up!! The cheek! All that worrying for nothing! I'd be lying if i said i wasn't just a teensy bit disappointed though. He seemed so keen. Anyway, by stood up i mean we were meant to be going out on the Tuesday, he called me on the Friday before to make sure we were still on. I asked him what we were doing and the best place for us to meet, and he said he'd let me know before hand. He didn't. I didn't chase as i didn't want to give him the wrong idea, what with all my worrying. But when it got to 8pm on Tuesday night (and after a couple of glasses of wine in the local with housemate to cheer me up) i texted him. And got a big fat nothing response. Bastard.

I didn't hear from him a whole week and a half later, when (get this) he made a comment on Facebook about something i'd written. No apology. So i asked " what happened to Tuesday?". I got a response in the end, and felt a bit bad. But even so, it doesn't take 10 seconds to write a text saying " can't meet you tonight, something's come up, will explain". The fact is, he still hasn't apologised and the only way he seems able to contact me is through facebook. I thought older men were supposed to be mature (although i've been out with enough to know that's a myth)?

So anyway...that's all over. Which is a good thing as it never would have worked. In the mean time i've rekindled a crush (although it is weakening again)but have no way of using it to my advantage as he doesn't live in London and doesn't seem that interested. Damn it. He's so not my type in every way as well, that he might just be a winner! Hmmm.

Oh and i pulled on Saturday night...but that was a one time only kinda thang...i don't expect to hear from him again! Ooooh the shame. Less said about that, the better me thinks!

So what's on the horizon now, i hear you ask? Ha! Well let's just say i've got a jammed packed couple of weeks. I go to The Big Chill on Thursday so who knows, Mr Right might be there. The question is, would i actually prefer Mr Right Now? I'm still mooning over the ex a little bit. I hate to admit it and it's dangerous when i do because i then go out and do silly things to try and convince myself that i'm over it. One day i will be.

Right?...

Honuloopy

Aloha! I had a brilliant weekend. Well in truth it was more of a brilliant Saturday night/Sunday morning with a rather hungover Sunday afternoon. But still. It was fun times. I wore a shell bikini. Over a top of course. Plus a couple of Lai's, a flower in my hair and a grass skirt to match. To be honest much of the night is a bit hazy. Although i'm pretty sure i played spin the bottle. At least my partner in crime wasn't as hammered as me and she has a clearer memory. But perhaps that's not a good thing!

The boys always go all out and it is obligatory to dress up. In fact you'd feel a bit of a numpty if you didn't because everyone makes a bit of an effort! Me and the girls did some BBQ-ing. Showed the boys how it's done of course.

What i do recall is there were half naked men with bikins on, wearing lippy at one point, covered in glitter. And that by the end of night i was covered in glitter so clearly i had been rubbing up against at least one of them. Well done me.

If only i could actually remember...

Life jackets

I spent a lovely weekend in Norfolk, visiting my Nana with my cousin. It's been years since i've been to visit. It was nice to reminisce and hark back to a time when we were both much younger.

I'm slightly envious of my cousin who has stronger memories of the Boat Club and summers spent on the water. Although i still have some. One of my earliest memories is when i was up in the loft/box room and Papa was putting me in a yellow life jacket to see if it would fit. I can only have been about 3 years old and my only experience of life jackets up until that moment were on aeroplanes (i travelled young). I must have made the connection that you only put life jackets on when you are going to die on a plane so i remember yelling and crying telling Papa that "i don't want to die!!!I don't want to wear it!". I think it took some time to reason with me as i could be a stubborn little brat (and still am!).

My Papa was a great Grandad. My Mum has often said how different he was with his Grand kids compared to a being a Dad. From what she says, he was fierce and had a real temper. I don't remember that. What i remember is him messing around with us at the dinner table when all the other adults had left the room, stealing food off peoples plates and putting his elbows on the table (this was a bit of a family joke-good manners in our family came from sitting properly at the table, no elbows and waiting until everyone was seated before you started eating. Papa started a game where if he spotted anyones elbows resting on the table he'd rap his knuckles on the surface and catch them out. Originally it was just meant for us kids, but it soon became a running game every meal time to try and catch one of the adults out.)

Papa really did dote on us kids and we loved it. I think for my cousins who didn't have a Dad on the scene, he was a real father figure. He would discipline us, but it would always be quite light hearted. I never remember him raising his voice.

When my sister and i were were little, we loved it when Nana and Papa came to stay. We'd sneak into there room early in the morning with books for them to read to us. We'd always make Papa sing The Owl and the Pussycat and get him to tell us the story about the fairies at the bottom of the garden. Even though we knew both by heart, we'd always get him to do it, without fail. Even when it was six o'clock in the morning!

As he got older, Papa began to lose his hearing. He would wear a hearing aid but would turn it off occasionally. He'd play on it though and it used to wind Nana up so much. She'd come into the room and ask if he wanted, tea, coffee or a beer. He'd be reading the paper and say "yes". Nana would sigh and leave the room and he'd just smile at us kids and we'd all start giggling.

My Grandparents were adventurers and i've always admired them for that. They had their yacht and would sail around the world for 6 months of the year. Even when Papa got cancer and they had to sell the boat (which saddened everyone of us)when he felt a little bit stronger he went out and bought a camper van so they could travel around the UK!

One of my last memories of Papa were of when my grandparent had a party to celebrate their 50th Wedding anniversary. Never have i seen two people so in love as my grandparents still after 50 years. We were having a massive buffet for the family (of which there are a lot of us) and lots of their friends. Prawns were on the menu but they hadn't defrosted quite enough. I remember watching Papa sat in the conservatory with a tray of prawns, him wielding a hairdryer, trying desperately to thaw them out!

When he died in 2003 it really rocked us as a family. But we all have very fond memories. The one positive thing to come from the sadness of losing him, is that my cousin and i became friends. Growing up we didn't have anything to do with each other, he's seven years older than me and i was always his annoying younger cousin, he my tall cousin who barely spoke to me! The night before Papa's funeral, we stayed up late and drowned our sorrows and in our sadness realised we were more alike than we had ever known. Since then he has become more like a brother to me. In fact i feel closer to him than i do my own sister. I'm hoping that one day i can have this type of friendship with her. Perhaps we just need to get drunk together!

Not sure why i felt the need to write this all down. I guess my weekend has provoked some strong memories. Families are complicated things. I hope that one day we can all get together like the old days (although there are even more of us now, we'd need some kind of hall!)who knows, it could happen.

Blue sky poking through

Has been a relatively quiet week, haven't had to come in early and have managed to leave on time every night. I think i might just be getting the hang of the new job now. Which means i'll more than likely get bored pretty soon. But i don't care, it's all about the money for the next couple of months.

I've been loving the sunshine this week, can't understand why people moan so much. I know public transport is like travelling in a sticky, sweaty sock but seriously, come on. It's sunny! It's not extreme, it's nice. It's made me think that summer in this country wouldn't be bad at all (which is good as i'm not going away anywhere this year). I can't wait to spend more weekends sunbathing in my garden, or having a bit of "parklife". And you know, when Londoners are not travelling on the tube or bus, they are actually much happier when the sun is shining. Cafe culture comes alive too which is something i adore. Being able to go out for the evening without a cardigan is always a good thing too - save money on the cloakroom!

I've also been having my five a day, mainly in glasses of Pimms. But the hot weather does make salad appealing. I had salad for dinner two nights in a row! However i do eat more ice cream...

It saddens me that it is cloudy today, but i can just about see blue sky poking through. That's a bit of an analogy for myself right now...

By traditional means

Wow, being employed is a bit of a shock. Of course i wouldn't change it for the world but i've just been so busy i've barely noticed that 3 weeks have gone by. It's all good in the hood though, i feel i'm on top of things, plus i got a round of applause at the company meeting the other week and i had a mini appraisal today, where my interpersonal skills were praised as well as my intelligence. News to me that i had either! So things are good, i get the odd day, like today where i get a bit of down time, which is nice every once in a while. Last week i thought my head was going to explode i was so busy, so this is a welcome break.

In other news, i've managed to secure myself two dates with a guy i met in the traditional way. i.e not on the Internet. I'd almost forgotten what it's like actually. The last time i met someone when i was out, minding my own business, was about...4 years ago! Blimey.

But yes, let's focus on the fact that i met him when i was out, i then met him again for drinks and i'm now seeing him for lunch tomorrow. Technically it's a second date. And, even more surprisingly, i actually like the guy! So i'm really looking forward to seeing him again.

I had to let down Mr Farringdon Big Forehead though. He asked me out again and i declined. At first i thought that maybe i shouldn't burn my bridges, but then a good friend of mine asked me if i'd be looking forward to seeing him again, and honestly, i knew i wouldn't be. So i politely declined.

This weekend my cousin and i are off to Norfolk to see my Nana. I've been such a bad grand-daughter these past few years that it's about time i spent some time with her. Hopefully the weather will be nice and we can go to the beach or down by the water, just like we did when we were kids.

Friends

I have been chastisied for not mentioning two other dear friends of mine in my previous post, who I also don't get to see enough of. It's no ones fault, it's just what happens. I think it takes some of us by surprise when we realise that time spent together in the past, cant always be recreated in the future. People grow and change, lives cartwheel in different directions and wht we once shared belongs in memory banks. This shouldn't make us sad though. Memories are good and we can go on creating them in the future. But i think it's best that we don;t cling on too much to the past.

Uni days were great, i had such a wonderful time and made some life long friends. But there will never be a time like that again, where everyone is in the same situation, with similar goals. Even though i live in a house with 3 other people, it's in no shape or form the same as when i lived with 4 other people in Derby. And i'm glad! It's only been a few years since i've left but i feel like i've grown so much in those few years that going back to living like a student would depress me! Don't get me wrong, there are certain elements that are the same, if not worse. Especially in the past few months where i've had no spare cash. But Uni is such a special, almost wierdly unrealistic way of living that it cannot be recreated. It lives in the past.


That's not to say my friendships remain there too, although one or two are definitely dead and buried. It just means that hanging out with your uni friends now that you're not at uni is a whole new ball game. You have jobs to juggle, stresses to handle, relationships to go through. A call to your mates every now and then is lovely, but of course it won't be the same as it used to be. Friends drift apart, though no wrong doing of their own, just becuae life moves us on in different directions. Different parts of the country as well!

Anyway, i just want to say that my mates mean the world to me. And i know i'm crap at being in touch and i sometimes let my own rough and tumble, directionless life get in the way of taking a minute to call and say hi.

It's not that i don't miss you, it's just that our lives are no longer together on that one path. We've just got to make sure our own paths cross every now and then.

Love to you all x

Weekend antics

So, who wants to hear about my weekend?!

Well it all started with one of my dearest friends coming to visit on Friday, we had dinner, bought trashy magazines and had a good old natter with a bottle of wine. I realised it's been quite a while since we spent quality time together, i'd almost forgotten what it was like. That's my own fault i guess, from leaving my two best mates and moving to London. I go and visit as much as i can but we seem to only grab a few moments together, or there's other people around or stuff going on. I really just miss hanging out with her. Anyway, we spent friday night talking over Big Brother and Saturday morning we went and had a makeover day, where we got our hair all big and footballers wives style and got photographic make up put on us. We then spent the rest of the morning in front of the camera, posing and having a right giggle with the photographer. It was especially funny when we made him get the wind machine out!

We then said our goodbyes, still all big hair and even bigger make up, and went our separate ways, her to Bristol, me to Shepherds Bush.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at Endemol studios, auditioning for a new reality tv show. I can't say too much, but it took four hours, lots of form filling in, an interview on camera, group activity (which was also filmed) and a DNA swab...

Intrigued aren't you?!

I then rushed home from there, dropped my bag off and ran out the door again to go to a 30th Birthday Party in Paradise Bar in Kensal Green. My housemate and i ended up on the dance floor most of the night. It was super sweaty and hot, but the music was pumping and Karen and i did some "expressive" dancing.

My lovely friend then informed me that she quite liked the DJ (as most tipsy women tend to do - don't get upset Jay, i'm sure it's not the same for your DJ!!). So we moved closer to the DJ booth. I noticed a guy dancing near the booth, he seemed to have been there all night so i struck up some kind of conversation with him. He told me he was mates with the DJ. Great news! I then wondered how i was going to let this guy know that both Karen and i were interested in him and his mate. So, ever so cooly, i asked him if they were both single. We were in luck!

As the night finished, Tico and the Dj, who went by the name of Ali, took us out to the garden area to cool down and smoke. Well, not me, i'm a good girl. They then asked if we wanted to go back to Ali's place in Hampstead. We sensibly said no. Then changed our minds. Women's perogative.

His place was amazing. He owns a gorgeous 3 bed flat right in the centre of Hampstead. It was modern and tidy...two things we weren't expecting! The flat held an even bigger suprise. Not only did it have a great roof top garden, it also had access to a clock tower. It turns out Ali is the keeper of the clock! He is the only one who has access to it, has to turn the light on at night and wind it forward and back for daylight savings! And even more spectacular, after climbing some very small ladders (i sensibly took my heels off), a hatch opens up to the roof of the clock tower with the most stunning view of the whole of London! We could see right across to the Eye and the Gherkin! Amazing. Perfect spot for a kiss i thought. But i guess Tico was either not into me or a REAL gentleman...let's hope it's the latter!

At about 4.30am we called a cab. We were offered a bed but decided we'd begun to feel a bit rough and wanted to wake up in our own beds. After swapping numbers we clambered into a cab as the sun came up.

Sunday involved sleeping, sunbathing in the park and more sleeping. All in all a pretty good weekend!

Looking forward to more like it!

p.s Not all Muslims are terroists, some like to watch telly and pluck their eyebrows of an evening. Just so ya know ;-)

Steak and a date

Hello, as promised here is my update on the Farringdon date... prepare yourselves...

The verdict is? NBN. Nice But No. Lovely guy but yet again, i'm just not feeling it. Don't get me wrong,we had a great date and he's good fun. Plus he's rich, owns his own flat and loves dancing. He bought me dinner and was very polite. He's also been in touch and is keen to go out again. So, on paper it looks great. But unfortunately, something isn't there for me. It's not his fault. I just know when i know, y'know?!

Perhaps i shouldn't write him off quite yet. Give it another date and see how i feel. But am i just wasting my time and his money? Maybe we could just be friends? Perhaps not. He's not on a dating site to make friends.

Oh well. Keep on trying!

Glorious news

Readers! You will be glad to know that my recent moaning and woe-is-me attitude is finally behind me as i have managed to find myself a 7 month contract! I'm no longer faced with homelessness. I will be able to eat normally. I will be able to go to the pub and have more than a glass of soda water, if i want to. I will be able to pay my bills, get back to paying off my overdraft and maybe even start to pay my long suffering parents some of the money i owe them. Things are looking up.

Now that i know i'm staying in London Town for at least another six months, i've turned my attention back to dating. Yes, that's right, i've signed up to yet another dating site. I've actually paid for this one too! However, men still perplex me and i take every date with a pinch of salt. As i was trying to explain to a dear friend of mine just today, i've had a few dates in the past couple of months which have gone well. I define "well" in that we spent a couple of hours together, didn't run out of things to talk about and by the end of the date there was definite flirting and in most cases the guy leaned in for a smooch. None of these guys i've really thought "yes, you're the one" or even "i'd definitely like to see you again", but we've had a good time and they've come across like they like me. So, remembering that i'm not that interested, why is it, as keen as they seem to be, i don't hear from them again? are they waiting for me to get in touch? Or, and this is what i think, was it all a ruse? Do guys give it the come on but actually, couldn't give a shit if they ever see you again? Now, remember i'm actually not bothered. I haven't felt the need to get in touch with any of them. But without being big headed, i thought they were at least a little bit interested!

Are these guys just doing the same thing i'm doing...? Should i start being a bit more...brutal?

well, i think i may put this to the test with my next date in Farringdon tomorrow. There's been a few flirty emails and text messages so at the moment, all is looking good. I'll let you know how it goes, never fear. But don't hold your breath for some sort of romance or even a second date!

The odds aren't good.

Beach life

The next day i was first up, greeted by bright blue sky and sunshine. It was about 7.30 in the morning and most of the camp site was still asleep. I filled the kettle up and made myself a brew. I hadn't slept very well what with my cold and other things, and i was actually awake at first light. When i peeked out the tent i was disappointed as it seemed grey and cloudy. But the sun burnt it off and a couple of hours later there i was drinking tea in the sunshine. I went and sat on the stone wall admiring the sea views and stillness of the countryside. The sun began to warm my tired body and the tea helped me wake up.

Soon after that the campsite began to stir and Jonathan was next up. Drinking tea soon caught on and as other members of our group got up, breakfast was needed. Unfortunately, our gas canister ran out so we only had a little one to use. It took what seemed like hours to cook some sausages, we abandoned the bacon as we really would have been there all day!

The plan was to hire boards for Elliot and Vince then go down to Holywell beach. We'd then go back to Watergate Bay in the afternoon. Our early start meant we didn't have to queue for the carpark and we picked a great spot on the beach. It was windy, which meant it got a little chilly at times, which may be one of the reasons why we all got a bit sunburnt!

We played rounders (i was suitably girly in my hitting and throwing capabilities) and ate pasties, surfed and sunbathed. Elliot got his 3 foot kite out (that's kite!) and went down the beach to fly it, using all of his upper body strength to contend against the strong sea wind. He then gave Joe a lesson and after a couple of crash landings, tangling the strings and almost taking out a few passers by, he managed to, erm , get it up... He was dragged 30 feet across the beach at one point however!

After a little snooze, we packed up and drove back to the camp site to drop off the cars and walk down to Watergate Bay. I didn't go in the water this time, preferring to grab an ice cream and play frisbee instead. It was a good job i stayed behind because as the tide rushed in it was all hands on deck to rescue our belongings which were rapidly being swept out to sea! We decided it was time to get to higher ground, which meant the beach front cafe where we drank tea and ate scones. We then made our way back to camp for showers and beer. Not showers in beer.

After eating so much barbequed food we all decided we wanted a proper meal so as the sun began to set we decided to head down to the bar we'd been to the night before and check out the menu. Playing pool and drinking games until the early hours, we didn't want the night to end. A proper session around the camp fire was needed. However, we were on a family campsite which meant excessive noise was not going ot be tolerated. Or camp fires for that matter. So, gathering some beers, a ground sheet and blanket, plus one of our many disposable barbeques we found ourselves plonked in the middle of a grassy field. As the barbeque went up in flames, Vince went in search of more burning material. He came back with something resembling a fence post. It did the trick and before we knew it we were being warmed by a rousing fire.

I lay back, huddled in Elliot's blanket and gazed at the starry sky. I miss the stars. You don't get to see them in London what with all the light pollution. It was a moonless night which meant they were all the more bright and sparkly. You might be thinking what a romantic setting. It would have been if it hadn't been for the boys talking about cock and sexually transmitted diseases. Lovely. Still, it was a beautiful night, and i haven't laughed so much in a while.

I slept soundly that night and really didn't want to come home. Part of me thought i should stay, find myself a hostel and maybe find a bar job. I still might do that. I love being by the sea and Cornwall has always held a place in my heart as i spent much of my childhood on Perranporth beach and sleeping in caravans.

I guess anything is possible right now, it just doesn't quite seem like it...

Surf's up!

It's a dreary, wet Tuesday morning which is quite the contrast to my wonderful bank holiday weekend. At least with the weather being like this, sitting in an office is not so horrible.

My weekend started on Friday evening when the boys (Rob and Joe) picked me and my tent up and we started on the first stage of our journey down to Cornwall. It took a little longer than usual to get down to Woodfalls, about three and a half hours all in all, but we were all excited enough about the coming weekend not to let it upset us too much. With the first stage complete, we packed up the car, drank a bottle of wine and went to bed at about midnight, setting our alarms for 4.45am! Eeeek!

We dragged our sleepy selves out of bed, gulped down some tea and squeezed into the Rob's mango coloured Saxo. That's right, not yellow, mango! At least we were very easy to spot in the fog. We joined up with Hawksy, Emily and Jonathan and started the second stage down to Newquay in convoy. As we travelled down the A303 the mist and fog began to clear to reveal blue sky and sunshine, and the excitement levels in the mango machine rose, so much so that we put Pendulum on the stereo and raved our way down the road at 6.30 in the morning. Hardcore! Unfortunately for Hawksy, his car was very much the opposite, with his passengers all asleep!

We made excellent time as the roads were all clear. Obviously most people went down on the Friday and weren't prepared to get up at silly o'clock on a Saturday morning to drive down. More fool them!

Our destination was Watergate Bay, just outside of Newquay. Hawksy and Emily went into reception and we all waited outside, half hiding as technically we were not the right ratio of boys to girls to be accepted on the campsite.

Our pitch, the best in the park we reckon, was right at the end near the back gate. We had sea views all for £24 for two nights. Bargain! It was about 9am as we set up camp which left us the whole day for the beach. I had borrowed a tent from my lovely housemate. I didn't have a clue how to put it up however. Everyone else had the usual dome shaped tents, mine appeared to be a little bit different. With a little bit of trial and error, and everyone mucking in to help we managed to erect it, and actually it was perfect as it had a big porch where all the cooking stuff got dumped.

Rob's mum is a diamond and had packed everything we could have dreamed of. We also had breakfast sorted with eggs, bacon, sausages and bread. We set fire to one of our many disposable barbecues and we were away. Although it did fall off the rest and burnt a hole in the grass...luckily no one was hurt in the making of our breakfast!

Full of fry up we changed and headed down to Newquay to hire boards and wetsuits. Fistral Bay was our beach of choice and we found ourselves a little spot just as the sun came out from behind the clouds. It was beautiful and stayed that way all day.

An hour or so later we joined by the last two members of our party, Elliot and Vince. Originally they had planned to come down a lot sooner, but got way laid by hangovers from the night before! Slipping to my snug wetsuit i tried not to think about who had peed in it before me and ventured into the waves, body board in tow. The waves were pretty good, especially for my first day, as i hadn't been boarding for a couple of years. I managed to catch a couple of waves and wanted to stay out forever! The sea was extremely cold though and my feet were so numb i thought they might drop off. It was such a gorgeous day that it was easy to get warmed up again and sittijg on the beach we could have been anywhere abroad. It was heaven.

AS the sun began to lose it's strength we went in search of Cider and ice creams. I just stuck to the cider, yum! We then headed to Morrisons with what seemed like the whole of Cornwall and did a supermarket sweep/tag team/relay to grab all the things we needed. This mainly included beer and meat for the barbeque.

Jonathan did a stirling chef job when we got back to camp and we had burgers and sausages, chicken wings and legs coming out of our ears. Nobody went hungry!

As the sun began to set we wandered down to the cliff edge and found a coastal path which led all the way to Watergate Bay. It was stunning and so peaceful. We took photos and sat quietly watching the sun go down. Listening to the gentle crashing of the waves below, the breeze from the sea cooling my slightly sunburnt face, i felt so at ease. I decided that I'd left my troubles back in London and this mini holiday was a way of escaping.

We stumbled in the twilight to a bar we'd noticed earlier and stayed there for the evening drinking Red Stripe for £2 a pint and G&Ts (well, just me on the Gin actually) and started doing some silly drinking games. I had consumed five gin and tonics in quick succession. As most of you know I'm no lightweight, but the boys didn't know this and i think they expected me to fall over at any moment. I reckon i ended up the most sober of the bunch, in fact!

As the bar closed we decided to call it a night as we had had such an early start that morning. Needless to say after quite a few beverages we decided to risk taking the road back to the tent than the cliff top walk...probably the most sensible decision we made for the whole holiday! For some reason, and i think you really had to be there to find it amusing, we played a stupid game on the walk back which involved pulling different poses every time a car shone it's headlights on us. All in hoodies we must have looked like a bunch of chavs, which we used to our advantage by acting out graffiting walls, mooning cars and striking "wide boy" poses. We have photos to prove it. Like i said, it was funny at the time!

As quietly as we could we got back into the tents and eventually fell asleep. I was sleeping with one eye open however, as my tent buddy has a tendency of not quite making it out of the tent when he needs a wee. Thank goodness he was on his best behaviour, that's all i can say!

Murder on the dancefloor

Hello, me again!

So where did i get too? Oh yes, burning my boobs in the park.

Well since then i had a boring but well needed temp job for just over a week. I was entering credit card APRs into a database for a financial services comparison site. Thrilling! But as i said, much needed.

On friday i was lucky enough to go to a club opening in Soho. A friend of a friend is a promoter and got us in for free. Always a plus considering normally it would cost twenty squids. This joint was called 24 and it was full of beautiful people. Suffice to say i felt invisible and fat. But hey, that's never stopped me from enjoying myself! The club was a technological wonder. Well perhaps that's going a bit far...but it was pretty cool with it's 90s laser show, tables that reacted when you touched them and live video of the inside of the club being projected onto the walls. Seriously. It WAS cool.

When we found our table (you're a no-one if you haven't booked a table at these gigs, i've learnt) the 2 litre of Vodka with oversized sparkler arrived and we all breathed a sigh of relief as we didn't have to buy anymore £10.95 gin and tonics for a while. Or in my case, at all.

The music was funky and we did a bit of table dancing. After the canapes went round the lights dimmed and the music was pumped up to a rousing crescendo and my dancing shoes couldn't stay still any longer. Myself and my friends found our way onto the dance floor and stayed there until the small hours. When we walked in we instantly saw two hot, hot, hot guys, one in a waistcoat, the other in a skinny tie. After checking them out for half an hour it was clear we weren't there type. The well dressed are generally gay, i should know that by now!

Anyway, two more guys caught my friends eye but i was resigned to the fact that i wasn't gonna get anywhere with anyone as my cold was getting worse and there was just way too much competition. To be honest i just couldn't be bothered. My friend did her best though, keeping in their eye line, wiggling her thang in their direction. However considering the last guys we liked, liked each other we were almost convinced that these guys were gay aswell. Especially as they seemed quite touchy feely with each other. Unfortunately though, before we got the chance to ask (i'm not really sure we would have, but let's just say we would have) fitty number one started dancing with a tall, tiny blonde girl who looked about 19 and was wearing practically nothing (i know, i sound like someones mum). To be fair if i had the confidence (and didn't have to get the bus both there and back) and of course her figure i would wear tiny, weeny dresses with a bow just about covering my arse. Ten seconds later and they were sucking face on the dance floor. Good for them. Not good for my mate who was most put out.

In the end we decided to deal with the rejection the only way we know how. By dancing like loons. Something i'm well practiced in.

When it got to the stage where walking to the toilets was difficult we decided our tootsies needed a rest. And then we decided it was time to get our big red chariots home. I'm sure blondy and fitty had a chauffeur driven car. As we left my other friend said she'd seen Jonny Torettes getting into a fight when she was out having a cigarette and some ex Big Brother contestants dancing on the other side of the room. Classy establishment then! But really i didn't care who was there as i was having a great time shaking my bits and bobs in front of the DJ booth.

Hopefully there will be more nights like this if i can just find myself a job to keep a roof over my head. Otherwise it's gonna be "s'long London, hello Hampshire" and i will be Little Miss Sad :-(

Till next time

x

I've been chastised for not blogging enough. Slap on back of hand.

Well let's start with the weekend before last which was my housemates birthday celebration in Angel. We went to the Albert and Pearl on Upper Street and had a lovely old time dancing til our feet dropped off. It has to be said as the night wore on the dancing got more and more expressive! I ended up snogging some bloke from the Wirral...I'm not sure he told me his name, but if he did it didn't register in my brain so he will just have to be called "the bloke from the Wirral".

There was a pretty big group of us by the end, taking up most of the bar. Was a fun night, especially when i got chatted up and danced with by one of the bouncers, who then gave me two membership cards. Get in! I think he said his name was Julio. But again, i'm unsure.

The night ended in a kitchen full of drunks eating various combinations of marmite on toast. (the drunks being us, the combinations being marmalade and marmite, peanut butter and marmite and cheese and marmite) plus a fight about thick sliced bread. All in all, the night was a big success!

The next morning i was RUDELY awoken at 9.15 by a certain friend of mine who had decided she wanted to meet for coffee that morning rather than the afternoon as originally planned. So i dragged my hungover self out of bed, fell into some clothes, grabbed my sunglasses and went on my weary way to Angel to meet her for a much needed Frappacino. Which i managed to get for free, well my friend did. Don't you just love it when that happens?!

The sun came out strong that Sunday and in the end we decided some much needed "parklife" was in order. We went back to mine, picked up a rug, grabbed a picnic on the way and went and sunbathed in Clissold park. Bliss! We were also bought two lolly pops by a random man in the corner shop. We didn't want them but he insisted so forcefully that we took them out of fear that he was going to either lamp one of us or rape us. He quickly scarpered and we breathed a sigh of relief, two lollies the better off.

As we dozed in the park we began to make a shopping list. Qualities we would like to find in a man. I couldn't possibly divulge the contents of that list as a) i haven't got time and b) it's just a ridiculous list of inappropriate requests!

Maybe another time. Right now i have to get back to my data entry. That's right ladies and gents, i've found myself a temp job. It's thrilling. But it's much needed.
More of that next time me thinks.

Adios!

Hang Man

Well, it's been a while since i've last blogged. Basically i lost my mojo. Have had no motivation or inspiration to write anything. I'm trying to pick myself up though so, here goes.

A couple of weekends ago i had a wicked time with my friend Steph. We spent the Saturday afternoon drinking tea and eating biscuits in the sunshine, then we got ready for a night out in Mayfair at the Funky Buddha. My crazy Portuguese friend has a friend who does promotion for the members only club, and she got us free entry and free drinks. My crazy portuguese friend was meant to be coming too, however she got caught up delivering a baby. Like you do.

Steph and i partied the night away with free vodka and crazy dancing. We kept are eyes out for Jodie Marsh but she didn't turn up, neither did any footballers. Oh well. Steph got a snog with a kiwi, i got the eye from his mate but by the end of the night he was so coked up he couldn't even stand up straight, which was a turn off for me. Drugs really aren't my thing. Too unpredictable.

Anyway, when the club closed we made our way back to mine, only to find an impromptu party at my house. Brilliant! Although we were a bit lame as we had been dancing our little socks off and had exhausted ourselves, we quickly left the revellers to it. I believe there was bed swapping and canoodling going on. Marvelous.

Next morning we all (the left over revellers included) traipsed down to the Cafe Z bar for an award winning brekky. Yum. With heavy hangovers, or perhaps we were still drunk, Steph and i decided that checking out the London Marathon would be a fabulous idea. Which we did. The sun was out and it was a gorgeous afternoon. We both got a bit emotional at one point. I'm not sure why, i think it was the hangover. We then walked to Waterloo along the south bank and met a man playing the Hang. Or at least i think that was what it was called. We were transfixed. And in love. We both gave money and swooned. Again, probably the effects of the hangover. But perhaps i should go back to the south bank this Sunday just to check. And put my number in his hat...

[after just doing a quick search i think i've found him. I'm listening to his music now. I'm totally entranced. Such a beautiful sound all from one instrument. Amazing]

Check him out on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=97IrMi9AZ3c&NR=1

It's such an amazing instrument, you really have to hear it live. I've never heard anything quite like it. It's almost like a steel drum but softer and more magical sounding.

What's a girl to do?

As my first week of work experience draws to a close, I've realised that i really quite like PR, especially when working on more consumer based clients. The sickening thing is that I have the experience, I'm quick to learn yet I'm still unemployed. There are just no jobs in PR at the moment, for my level. Yet here i am, selling in stories, helping to put together pitches, writing press releases, all for FREE! Am i crazy or is that just damn cheeky?!

I'm based in Oxford Circus which is great but incredibly depressing. Lunchtimes are spent meandering around TopShop and H&M with £20 to my name. All these lovely things which i just can't have, that i've never had because even when I had a job I was paid the bare minimum. When is my luck going to change? I'm a naturally impatient person, with an extremely long list of Things I Want To Do in my life. Almost all of which depend on that papery stuff that seems so hard to come by at the moment.

I know, i'm young. With time i will be able to do stuff. But right now, keeping a roof over my head doesn't look that likely. So what's a girl to do? Use her feminine wiles? Go back and live with her parents in a tiny village in the south of England, where the nearest thing to PR is a notice in the Parish Pump about so-and-so's prize winning turnips? Go back and admit defeat? I just can't bare it. It's got nothing to do with the people, i love my parents and my friends. It's just so not where i want to be and I'll do anything to stay in London.

But a casual bar job and jobseekers allowance is still not enough to pay the rent, even with housing benefit too. It's madness! I met with my French friend yesterday, she got made redundant too. She was shocked to find out that the same rules don't apply here as they do in France. If she was living at home and got made redundant she'd get 80% of her salary for two years! That's it.

I'm moving to France.

Slave labour

How many days has it been since my last confession?

Well i still aint got a job, instead i'm doing unpaid slave labour (dressed up as work experience)just to get me out of the house and away from Jeremy Kyle and This Morning. Not sure much is going to come out of it though. I also started the process of signing on...what a humiliating experience. Still, needs must.

On the dating front, i've had a little more success. Well success isn't quite the right word, i've just had a few more dates is all. I had a nice walk along the Thames in the sunshine on Sunday with a very interesting chap. A complete geek (by his own admission) and incredibly intelligent...he ended up explaining some Phd level Neuro science to me, in such a way that i actually followed and understood what he was talking about. And i aint clever. He did have one fatal flaw however...boob groping. Yes, that's right, he went in for the kiss at the end of the date, in the middle of Waterloo station and copped a feel. Needless to say it has put me off seeing him again! I've a first date with BennyBoozeUp tomorrow after work/slave labour. Let's see what happens!

Good eggs

So, i have had requests to keep writing...one of my fans was apparently disappointed to find no blog to read in her lunch hour. My other fan is not so bothered.

So what's new with me? Well, not much to be fair so i guess i will use this space to recount my Easter weekend. Good Friday was just that, good. I spent the day running around a village in search of Cadbury Creme eggs. Fantastic! My competive spirit yet lack of suitable foot wear meant i was sprinting down the road in heels...i'll pretty much do anything for chocolate! For some reason our team didn't win (there must have been some cheating going on) but we weren't last either (and we had a girl with a crutch in our team!). After the hunt there was much eating and drinking to be had and after so much exercise we descended on the food like gannets. So much so that a couple of hours later we were all in the local taking advantage of the Fish Friday special. I planned on not drinking alcoholic beverages as my bank balance is severely depleted and what with a lack of job, i've got to be pretty careful. I only managed to buy one soda water and lime before a pint of Cider appeared in front of me. Everytime i turned my back my glass magically refilled itself. Or so i was lead to believe. Always good to know your friends are looking after you.

The rest of the weekend was pretty calm. I spent quite a bit of time going down memory lane sorting through boxes of accumulated Stuff from the attic, including some of my stories. I always wanted to be an author. I still do, but i don't feel like i have the right book ready to come out just yet. There's still time.

So, there's a snippet of my weekend. I'm still jobless however. Nothing to report on that front other than rejection and i don't want to dwell on that. Depression could be around the corner at any moment...but i'll be waiting for it!

Steak and redundancy

Time for an update. I know my fans (all two of you) look forward to having some drivel to read on your lunch hour. And i do like to keep you two happy!

Firstly, some bad news. Along with thousands of other people around the country, I have been made redundant. It sucks. There's nothing I can do about it though, the decision has been made. I'm determined not to let myself slip into the depression i went through over a year ago, when i found myself out of a job and with no where to live. At least i have a bit more experience behind me now. I'm not panicking yet. I'll give it a few weeks.

So, this blog may become a diary of job rejections if i'm not careful! Let's hope not. Better stick to rabbiting on about my love life instead!

After hearing the horrible news on Friday and watching my boss crumble as the realisation kicked in that there was really nothing else left to do, i dried my eyes and decided it wasn't going to stop me going on my date. I had, after all, been looking forward to it. With hindsight i'm surprised the poor guy still wanted to meet me, after I phoned him letting him know about my awful afternoon. I did consider cancelling but decided i'd let him make that decision for me. And the last thing i wanted to do was stay in on a Friday night, depressed, with a bottle of wine for company.

Luckily for me, my date did still want to meet and he was thoroughly charming, kind and great fun. What more could a recently redundant gal wish for? I'm sure we talked about me far too much. Perhaps that can be blamed on the cocktail of different beverages we consumed. Or perhaps i should just learn to shut up once in a while. He did make me laugh though. Even if it probably was too soon for jokes!

It was a funny evening all round. He wasn't impressed by our table in the restaurant, with a lovely view of the toilets and the kitchen! Plus his cocktail was not up to his delicate palette's standard. The steak was damn good though. Dessert, not so much. As he put it, the chef clearly only had eyes for meat. Nothing else. All about the meat.

I enjoyed myself though and as the restaurant closed and we drank our coffee, we decided to find ourselves another bar for another drink. Which is why we ended up in T-Birds. An interesting establishment where the bar maid called me "love" and i got chatted up by a 15 year old chav. I didn't inform my date of this, it's not something i'm proud of. It wasn't like it was going to make him jealous. My first drink in T-Birds was a Cosmopolitan. Apparently. It certainly didn't taste like one. It didn't come in a fancy glass, it was extremely sweet with a faint taste of grapefruit and had absolutely no booze in it, as far as i could tell. We sat at what can only be described as a park bench and chatted about what could be around the corner for me. I think i may have said "the world is my oyster" too many times. He didn't seem to mind though.

So even though Friday could have been the day of "losing my job" it turned out to be the night of "a really great date".

Every cloud...

Shallow dating and big chills

Woo hoo! Have got tickets for the Big Chill sorted! Very excited, my first festival that i've actually had the money in the bank to be able to pay for! Plus have lovely people to go with! Tres exciting!

Much happier now I have something to look forward too. Think that's always the way. Was speaking to a mate on Sunday and he's talking about getting a big group together on August Bank holiday to go surfing down in my ancestral home of Cornwall. Now that would be cool, as haven't spent enough time with the boys over the past couple of years. Now we've all been brought back together by the "Wedding of The Year" this has given us the perfect opportunity to party more!

This weekend I also spread the online dating bug to my recently single friend who's organising the surf holiday. Didn't put him on the same site i'm on though, that would be a bit wierd (and between you and me i'm not sure he meets the criteria ;-)!

So we set him up on Mysinglefriend.com which i'd heard a lot about. I was obviously the single friend who had to describe him, which felt a little awkward with him looking over my shoulder! Plus the fact we dated for a few months when I was 17. But that's all water under the bridge now... however the boys do love to remind us of the past...at the wrong moments!

The idea is a really good one though and I kinda wish I was on there now. However i've my hands full with the other three sites i'm on (i'm not paying for all three, i'm just putting on free profiles to see which is best...)! And let me tell you, it's an interesting snapshot of what kind of single guys are out there. And not all of it's pretty. In fact, i've been sifting through a lot of mingers! Now I know that's not a nice thing to say, but this online dating thing makes you really shallow! It's awful that i'm judging people by their photos. I know it is. But I can't stop doing it!

Bad Ellie. Bad, bad, bad. Anyway, i've found at least one or two hotties which is just enough to keep me on these sites, in the hope that they might find me attractive....and if i'm judging then i'm sure the guys out there are doing it right back.

Gosh, dating's cruel!

editing

I promise I'll go through all my posts and edit them soon! their r plentie of smeling misteaks and grummatical errors, i'm sure.

My fault for writing blogs in me lunch hour.

I feel ppfffffttttt...

Bad hour maybe. Bad day perhaps. But no, not really either of these. I just don't know. And that is the problem. Perhaps something new is needed...but i'm not sure what.

Grrrrrr i frustrate myself so much. I know what it is. But i can't bring myself to say it. And the few people reading this don't need to hear it. Cos they've already heard it.

Time to shut up and get a grip.

Lucky lady

So, today i've realised that i've been living with two of my lovely housemates for almost a year. When I think back to how I was a year ago I can't believe how much more contented I actually am now. Life had thrown me a few curve balls at the beginning of last year, which meant I was out of a job and couldn't afford my rent. I ended crashing on my crazy portuguese friends sofa(she's crazy in a good way and was a life saver at the time)and was doing some god awful temp work which barely gave me enough money to buy the bus fare to get to the handful of interviews I was getting. Luckily that all changed when i joined the company i'm with now.

When I moved (into what we now lovingly call the Rat Haus) last year, it was a relief to be in a job that had a future and in a house where i might have something in common with the people living there. However I didn't see much of the third housemate and i've been told that's a good thing. She soon moved out a couple of months later and us survivors were left with the task of finding someone new to take her room.

Easier said than done. Turns out there are a lot of weirdos out there. Luckily we did manage to find one young lady who is just the right amount of weird and just the right amount of sane. And for that i'm very glad.

Now the atmosphere is great and I can't wait to get home. I feel very comfortable and the four of us have grown a lot closer. Especially after enduring a nasty landlord, damp and rats. Before Christmas we all moved house, en masse, to a lovely house up the road. Sans rodents. We have a landlady who actually fixes things when they're broken, doesn't shout abuse down the phone and generally is pleasant to deal with. WE have a house that isn't falling apart. It's also a lot less studenty.

Basically i lucked out. Thank you ladies for being so good to me!

(there you go Jay, you haven't just had a cameo, you've been a feature! ;-)

Yo-Yo

I've decided my emotional state is very much on a par with a Yo-Yo. And i've never been able to work those out so this doesn't bode well.

My day didn't start well, I fell flat on my face on the walk from the station to the office. I feel I may sue Tower Hamlets council for their lively pavements...

Seriously though, because of all the building work happening around the new Heron Tower the pavements are all churned up. I love the fact that I fell flat on my face, smashing my knee on the ground and no one offered me a hand. Granted I did jump up pretty quickly but then realising my knee had taken such a bashing I had to lean against a wall. However i'd probably have been more embarrassed if someone had stopped for me. Ground, open wide and swallow me up.

On a brighter note I noticed my Ex commented on a photo of me on Facebook. He still thinks i'm beautiful it seems. That anyone would call me beautiful still amazes me. It's kinda bitter sweet coming from him though. This is the reason I deleted him from The Book of Face. Unfortunately we share friends so sometimes there's just no getting away from him. I've done pretty well though I think, although when he sends me random emails I do find it hard not to respond. Like the other week, he said something that really pissed me off. Perhaps that was his reason for sending it, he knew he'd get a reaction. Anyway, no one wants to hear about my stagnant love life. I will be going speed dating next weekend though!

Bring. It. On!

Not as happy, but blonde!

As always, spoke to soon! Not that I'm unhappy just a bit confused and slightly disappointed. I think I've been rejected but have no idea why! Rejection isn't easy when you've been dumped fairly recently. Oh well, enough of that. The dating game's not always straight forward. There's plenty more fish blah blah blah.

On a happier note, I experienced life as a blonde this weekend. And yes, blondes do have more fun (at least they do at house parties after a bottle of vodka...).

I went to a mates "bling vs. Chav" house party on Saturday night and had loads of fun picking out a costume. It's unfortunate I returned home at 7am on Sunday without most of it.

My costume consisted of some great fake silver heart shaped earrings with "love" written in the middle of them, a blonde wig with sunglasses nestled in it, hot pants, various silver/diamante necklaces, silly silver shoes, pink nails and wild make up. What a stunner! I'm not quite sure what I was thinking, wearing hot pants, but after a bottle of wine it seemed like a great idea!

There was dancing, drinking games, posing and someone being sick in the garden. Wouldn't be a good party without that!

So, the question is now...should I go blonde for real?!

Answers on a postcard please! (or comment on the bottom of this, which ever's easiest!)

Sunshine and rainy days

I have to say that I feel a little bit happier now than I have of late. I don't know if it's just because the sun has started to shine and Spring is in the air, or if the clouds have started to lift over my recent doom and gloom of the heart. Perhaps it's both. I feel a little more in control which helps. My emotions are in check for the moment. This could change with the wind of course, but right now, this minute, i'm fine.

Yesterday I was told I treated the whole dating thing quite light heartedly. She then back-tracked and said she didn't mean it to sound like she thought I didn't care, just that I was quite calm about the whole process. She's also started dating again and she's not exactly embracing the experience! I was glad to hear that's what she thought of me, and my approach to the whole dating scenario. Even if deep down it's not really the case! To be perceived that way is what i want. And people do say the more you act a certain way the more like that way you become. If that makes sense...?

The past couple of months (i think it's three now)have been a challenge. And a mind fuck. But with the help of my friends, who did physically have to scrape me off the floor at one point, I've managed to get my life back and have started to kick the habit, the Ex. I know I've got a long way to go, but I'm doing OK. I've been on a few dates and have realised that I'm an interesting, easy to talk to kinda gal. Sorry if that sounds like I'm blowing my own trumpet (and for those reading this who know me, you'll probably be cheering and clapping your hands at me praising myself!)but I've been made to feel like I'm neither of those things at some point.

So, onwards and upwards. I'm moving on, getting on and attempting to get back in the saddle, as terrifying as that is. It's probably a little bit soon, but I'm not starting any big, scary relationships right now. Just meeting new people and trying to remember what fun feels like. Bring on the singles nights, speed dating and blind dates! Woohoo!

Sunday in Paris

Sunday was spent in rainy Paris. The weather didn't dampen my enthusiasm for all things French though. I informed Francky that I wanted Chocolat Chaud and Moules avec Frites at some point before I left.

We jumped on the Metro and decided to go to the Louvre. I had never been or seen the famous pyramid. We were hoping to go inside but a huge queue had formed outide in the rain and as i was running low on money we decided against it. Instead we walked down to the Obelisque de Luxor and then went and stood on the Pont de Concorde, watching boats full of tourists float underneath us.

We then headed to the Sacre Coeur. I had visited this area ten years ago but had forgotten about the steps. I must have erased them from my memory. Francky, ever the show off, half ran up to the top. I started off not far behind him but soon flagged. I was determined (and i'm very competitive)to get up there without stopping, which I managed. He wasn't wearing heels though so i'm sure if it was an even playing field it would have been a closer race...I guess we'll never know!

With wobbly legs and a flushed face we sought the quiet sanctuary of the Basilica. Churches and cathedrals scare me a bit. I worry that I might burst into flame when I step across the threshold. It was very peaceful though, with lots of candles and I couldn't help but admire the stained glass windows.

We left the Sacre Coeur and walked around Montmarte, admiring the street artists. As we sat down outside a street cafe and ordered my long awaited hot chocolate the sun came out from behind the clouds. The hot chocolate was amazing, not too sweet but creamy and velvety.

Next on our stop was L'arc de Triomphe. Two nights before Francky did some crazy french driving around it. It really is a free-for-all and you have to have balls just to dive in and out of it! I told Francky that the last time I was in Paris it was with school and we were on a coach. The driver managed to get on the roundabout but we went round five times until he had the courage to get off!

Francky and I then walked down the Champs Elysee, window shopping. We almost got run over. There was a lot of gesticulation and animated voices but no one was hurt. All a bit melodramatic if you ask me.

Next we went to the Jewellery Quarter. It was a Sunday so Cartier, Dior etc were closed. Damn. Francky had thought this one through! Was nice to look through all the windows though, and I bought some fancy chocolates for my housemates. I am the most considerate of housemates!

After our day mooching around Paris, Francky took me to Leon, a restaurant in Montparnasse which specialises in Moules avec Frites. I was a happy girl. I'd only ever eaten Moules Mariniere before, but in Leon there was a huge choice. I plumped for Moules Ardennaise - white wine, creme fraiche, mushrooms and bacon. It was Delicious, especially with the Belgium beer as recommended by the waiter and the forever full bowl of frites. Anyone who knows me know my love of all things potatoey...free refills of chips was a big thing for me!

After a mixture of wine, beer and moules I was full and a little bit tipsy.
"I need to take a photo of the Eiffel Tower when it sparkles!" I exclaimed to Francky.

We jumped on the bus and Francky put his arm around me. We kissed. I know, I wasn't meant to, but i was just a bit caught up in the moment. As we stood outside the Ecole Militaire I star-jumped in front of the tower waiting for it's moment to start sparkling. Francky took my photo but unfortunately it didn't come out as well as hoped. I played around with it and managed to get a few out of focus (yet still pretty) shots and was content with that.

Tired and happy we went back to Francky's room and curled up on the sofa to see what was on TV. Amazingly Lethal Weapon 4 was on. In French. I enjoyed it as much as I would have if it had been shown in English. More so in fact, as Francky was trying to explain Mel Gibson's jokes, it addd a whole other dimension to the film!

We both managed to watch the movie without falling asleep, then decided it was time for an early night. My Eurostar left just after six the next morning which meant we had to be up at five. Francky tucked me in for the last time. He was a gentleman. His attention and tenderness towards me all weekend had been well received and even when i had made it clear to him that we wouldn't be going down memory lane he didn't stop his tactile behaviour, but he didn't make things uncomfortable either. He had taken care of me and made sure i wasn't without anything.

Saturday in France

After scrambled eggs, bacon and tea drank from a cereal bowl, Francky and i got ready to leave for another riding adventure. After braving another odd shower experience and watching Madonna's Confessions DVD, we set off for Rambouillet.

I had convinced myself that the snails I'd eaten the night before had made me feel funny and spent the first half an hour in the car wondering if I'd make it to our destination without having an embarrassing stop on the hard shoulder. Luckily, after a gulp or two of fresh air and a slurp of coke i began to feel less nauseous.

Rambouillet is about an hours drive south west of Paris. It's an area covered in forest and is very pretty. Unfortunately, heavy grey clouds pursued us and as we reached the stable yard there was a definite chill in the air.

This time I was riding a bay horse called Revenu and Francky had Oulaf, a huge chestnut gelding. Revenu was a bit of pain as he seemed very head shy and wouldn't let me use a brush on his face. He also liked to paw the ground, which is a habit I'm not keen on. I like it when my horses hooves are all on the ground when i am. I'm not so bothered when I'm in the saddle.

Francky told me we were aiming for a 3 hour ride. As i mounted Revenu i almost yelped out loud. My physical riding fitness had deteriorated greatly as i hadn't ridden for about a year. My seat bones were very sore, the inside of my calves were bruised as were my thighs and my arms were aching due to Urhold's strong head on the beach the day before. I didn't want to complain though, i was so grateful to be able to ride in such fantastic scenery. I rode through the pain and after about an hour it seemed to have ebbed.

It started to rain as we cantered along the sandy trails in the forest. Revenu had a surprisingly nice gait in canter but i wasn't fond of his trot. He also had a habit of throwing his head which would off balance him and myself. Not only was concentration needed for balance but also for navigating the trails. Luckily I've had quite a lot of practice at this sort of riding. It did involve a lot of gripping with my legs though, which was pretty painful at times.

I was very aware that i had been rather quiet on our ride. Not nearly as talkative as i had been. I tried to explain to Francky that sometimes I'm just a bit introverted.

For me, riding has always been a source of meditation. I let my mind focus on the riding and then it wanders around without my knowledge. I quite like riding out on my own, there's something very comforting about being alone with only your horse for company and nature all around you. You notice so many things and can really develop a relationship with your horse. Of course if things go wrong it's not so fun, like if your horse bolts and you get left behind, stuck in a tree. That's happened once or twice to me!

After our rather damp but exciting ride, we got back in the car and i promptly fell asleep. I woke to find Francky's coat draped over me. All the fresh air had taken it out of me. Francky also felt tired and i felt rather guilty for falling asleep and not keeping him company but he insisted on me having a nap.

That evening was in stark contrast to the previous night's escapades. I was grateful as i was finding it difficult to walk without looking like John Wayne. We decided to stay in and watch Last of the Mohicans. In English. Francky said he'd seen it so many times that he didn't need the subtitles. As we ate pasta with ham and drank Rose wine i noticed Francky's head begin to nod. I was on the sofa and he was on a chair. After watching his head sway back and forth rather dangerously i woke him and asked him to swap seats. He complained in French but i insisted. As he curled up and fell back to sleep i watched Daniel Day-Lewis battle the baddies. I shed a few tears when his brother was slayed. I was glad Francky didn't see. I'm such a wuss with movies.

Friday Night in Paris

I managed to clamber out of the car with aching muscles and Francky took me up to his place. Well, his room actually. It was a little like University Halls of Residence, but Francky's room was also a shrine to all things Western, in particular Wyoming.

The room was crammed with paraphernalia; flags, spurs, horseshoes, statuettes. Every available space was covered with bits and bobs from his travels. A single bed was under the eaves, a one ring hob was squeezed in the corner and there was a sofa covered in North American blankets with a Numnah and saddle on each arm. Photos covered a pin board, and I was surprised to see that I had made it on to the wall of fame. A plasma screen TV was perched in one corner, looking oddly out of place.

We both needed to shower and get changed. Now this was a rather odd experience. The barracks are men only, the bathroom was down the hall and I wasn't allowed to be in the bathroom on my own. Those were the rules. I didn't ask why and now feel i should've done...I ended up having a shower in a cubicle next to my French companion. With him serenading me. Badly!

As we got ready to go out Francky rang a few friends (all women) asking what they were up to and if they wanted to come out dancing. He was also ringing them to find out the address of the salsa club he planned on taking me later. In the end only one girl came out with us, Beatrice. Francky had been reluctant to ring her as he had avoided her calls for two weeks. And she wasn't very happy about it.

Francky explained their relationship to me. She wasn't his girlfriend. She had a boyfriend. And a lover. And then him. Basically if neither were around she'd call Francky and complain about both her boyfriend and her lover. Francky and Beatrice would inevitably end up in bed together.

A bit greedy, i thought!

Anyway, we all met up in Saint Michel and went to an amazing fondue restaurant. I tried some of Francky's l'Escargot (with my eyes closed) which were just like eating chewy garlic. Francky, ever the gentleman, wouldn't let me pay. Beatrice didn't get the same kindness, it has to be said... I'm not sure she was bothered though.

After the restaurant we went to the club. It was small, loud and sweaty. And everyone was dancing. It had a great atmosphere and after we fought our way to the bar, i found myself being propelled on to the dance floor. It seemed that French guys were just as eager to dance as the women were. In fact, everyone on the floor had a dance partner. Francky grabbed me and swung me around. To be honest, he did everything possible to cop a feel. And I let him. Well! He did buy me dinner, and he was a good dancer!

When I needed to catch a breath and wipe the perspiration off my brow (girls don't sweat), we managed to find a spot to sit. Beatrice had been accosted by some short fellow and they were still dancing. As she came back to the table, Francky asked if i wanted to dance again. I said i needed a few more minutes so he pulled Beatrice on to the floor instead. I noticed that there was much less groping going on. In fact, if possible, he looked a little uncomfortable. As i began to people watch i guy came up to my table and i think he asked me to dance, i'm not quite sure. I shook my head. He persisted. Beatrice grinned at me.
"ok" I said, not entirely sure what i was agreeing to.

We danced for about two minutes before the song ended and Francky cut in. He seemed a little protective, but i was glad. I'd rather have had Francky groping me than some complete stranger!

As the night drew on we danced to Salsa, Cuban music, Caribbean dance music a bit of French RnB (as far as i could make out) and we hardly drank a thing. Dancing was more important than drinking it seemed.

We left before the lights came on and I was happy as i had begun to flag. I had been up almost 24 hours and had been more physically active in those 24 hours than i'd been all week.

Francky drove us home, dropping Beatrice outside the Moulin Rouge. She doesn't live there, it was just that the traffic was bad! The neon lights and Sex shops entertained me on the drive back to Francky's.

As i got into the single bed he tucked me up tight and planted kisses all over my neck. He knew that was all he was allowed. I'd made it pretty clear earlier in the night when he was girating against me. He slept on the sofa and i, rather guilty, slept in his bed, dreaming of dancing, beaches and the Eiffel Tower.

Friday in Normandy

As I stepped off the Eurostar at 9am on Friday I wondered if I'd recognise my friend Francky, who I hadn't seen for about five years. I needn't have worried. As I passed through the exit I spotted his hat. You see Francky is a Cow-Boy, a French Cow-Boy. He wears the full outfit, much to the amazement of many Parisians. He frequently gets odd looks on the Metro. Francky loves the attention and even if he wasn't wearing his cow-boy get up, people would still be staring.

I met Francky in 2004 on a ranch in Wyoming. Since then I'd promised to visit him in Paris. This weekend I decided it was time I took him up on his offer.

So on Friday morning I found myself being given the guided tour around Ecole Militaire where Francky is part of the French Cavalry. The stables were full of beautiful horses, all cared for immaculately. It was clear (even with my basic knowledge of French) that Francky is well respected amongst his peers, as they all stopped to say hello and he gave them instructions for the day.

After my tour and a quick cup of tea we jumped in the car and headed out of Paris, to Normandy. Francky switched on the CD player and Cotton Eye Joe blasted out of the stereo. I couldn't help but giggle.

As we got towards Deaville, Francky started to tell me, in his broken English, about the 6 years he had spent there. He told me a story about jumping out of the local girls school window, narrowly escaping getting caught by one of the Nuns. This is the first of many stories involving Francky's conquests. He's a true Frenchman with a great love of women. I should know, I was one of his victims all those years ago in the Wild West...!

We arrived at a run down, typically French farmhouse and I was introduced to Mr Baccush and his wife. I was mistaken for an Italian. I have no idea why. From what I could gather Mr Baccush asked the Cow-Boy if i could ride well. The answer was yes, very well. I smiled at Francky and Mr Baccush asked in a heavy accent "you jump?" "Oui" I answered, as this is pretty much all I can say en Francais. That seemed to be all the clarification he needed.

We rode out towards the coast in the sunshine. My horse was called Urhold and Francky remembers him from years gone by, when he was working at the farm and teaching adults and children to ride. I was astounded to hear that Urhold was 24 years old. He didn't look it and certainly didn't feel like an old horse as we reached the beach and began to canter. It took all my strength to hold him back.

The weather was perfect for riding on the sand, with blue sky, bright sunshine and a cool breeze. With the wind in my ears and surf spray in my face we galloped along the deserted beach. I was grinning so much my cheeks hurt. As we gave the horses their heads a few solitary people watched as we swept down the shoreline. The horses began to race each other. My elderly steed and I won, of course, much to Francky's amusement.

Sadly as the horses began to tire and the sun lost it's battle against the oncoming clouds, we returned to the stables. Dominique, Mr Baccush's son, helped me hose Urhold down and started talking to me in French.

"Je ne comprends pas..." I say sheepishly.
"ah, Italien?"

Erm no, I'm still not an Italian... I told him I was English and he started to pick out odd phrases he knew. "Good horse, bad dog, London and pretty" seemed to be his words of choice. I smiled and nodded. His English was far better than my French!

After some long-winded goodbyes, we climbed back in the car and started on our journey back to Paris. Conversation became easier as Francky became more confident with speaking English. He told me about his family, his brothers and sister. We touched on Teresa, his American girlfriend, who sadly passed away suddenly last year. She had a sick heart, he tells me.

We talked about his life, how he feels like his friends only ring him when they want a shoulder to cry on, and i asked him who he called when he needed comfort. He tells me he prefers to be on his own. He's seen three psychiatrists, one he didn't like, the second was too expensive and the third...well she was a pretty girl. Needless to say she became more than his psychiatrist! Francky asked about me and my life and I told him the watered down version. For some reason I don't like talking about myself that much.

We made good time and as the sun began to set we entered the beautiful city of Paris. I gazed out of the window at the Seine, and at the passers by, wondering why I hadn't come to visit sooner. We stopped in traffic and the Eiffel Tower illuminated as darkness descended on the city. The Tower started to do it's sparkly dance as a Country and Western song played on Francky's car stereo, "My baby left me and she stole my heart too".