Saturday, 3 April 2010

Luck of the Irish

Sometimes, just sometimes, comes along a date that restores your faith in the Gods of Dating (and they exist - oh, they exist). She wasn't so much nervous about this date itself, more nervous in case she didn't fancy him. But she did. Oh, she did.
From the lopsided grin when he met her at the train station, to the protective arm thing he did when she nearly walked in front of a bus (now THAT would have been a bad start...), to the just simple NICENESS of him and how funny he is and the accent. Did she mention the accent? Argh, and she promised not to gush!
After a rash of bad dates, it's very hard not to get too excited about a great one. But there's nothing wrong in a little excitement, no? He says funny things, like: "I think I'd like to go into space... but only if there'd be something to see, like. I think the novelty of just seeing earth would wear off, after a bit....". Okay, maybe you had to be there.
She had a bit of date embarrassment in suggesting the bottle of wine she bought wasn't all that cold, so he offered to take it back - only to find she'd accidentally bought red instead. Oops! But somehow, it didn't matter. Not one bit.
Anyway, early days. Early, early days....

Tuesday, 30 March 2010

Normal service now resumed....

She wanted to get some things off her chest. DONE! And now for a catch-up (another one!).

* There were two dates with the friend's friend from work. A no comment would probably be kindest. Though she did discover the utter wonderousness of wasabi peanuts, so that can't be all bad.

* She got the date with the Guardian Soulmates guy. You know Mr Schuester from Glee? Imagine that. Now imagine him as gay, awkward, making inappopriate comments and without the general beauty of Mr Schu's face. He had a phobia of tea and a cat called Mo-Fo. This is not a joke. You may, or may not, be surprised that she had to drink her way through it. Mojitos and red, red wine.

* Finally, FINALLY she figured that Future Husband probably isn't future husband if he has a girlfriend. Subtle clue, but she just about figured it out. He is coming to the birthday party to end all birthday parties in the coming weeks, and she has rather embarassingly sent a few drunken texts (albeit restrained ones. no kisses counts as restrained, right?) but it's probably all okay. Except she is, however, a tad concerned about the fact that on Friday night on a flashing dancefloor, she told FH's uni friend she intended to marry FH. Said friend (who came home with her flatmate, fact fans! wooop!) then sent text to FH. She is worried. Needlessly? We'll see.

* Now for the fun stuff. On said flashing dancefloor, when lovely flatmate was otherwise engaged, after a free shot of Sambucca she started talking to a boy in a red t-shirt. Or he started talking to her, the details are a tad hazy. We shall call him Irish (for that is his name) and we will be a little bit excited that they then had an ace chat on Saturday and that they are going for a wee drinkie on Wednesday night - a pre-weekend to make up for her covering the whole of England for work for the whole of Easter. Actually, and at last, a date she is really looking forward to. Nothing might happen. But you know, it's a possibility, an outside shot, that something just might. Did she mention his accent? Oh, the ACCENT....



Singleness is a strange thing. Its boundaries morph and change, a formless shapeshifting being that can make you feel like you're dancing on a beach one minute and trying to keep afloat in the sea the next. It is terrifying at times, and wonderful for exactly the same reason - because you are, absolutely and completely, forced with figuring out the youness of you. No-one to bolster you or throw out a lifebelt. It takes a little while to remember you do not need it and actually revel in the freedom, the bliss of singleness. There are stages, of course... the utter joy and release, the messiness of the rebound, the fun, the dates, the not-wanting-someone, the not-not-wanting-someone, the wanting someone, the not-actually-caring-eitherway and then this. A kind of contentment. And the realisation that perhaps the person best equipped to save yourself is you - you can swim.

Sunday, 7 February 2010

Catch up!

Here is the news (shuffles papers authoratively, composes face Fiona Bruce style. But with less pointy ears)...

BONG! She is still single - but then you guessed that, right? But seriously, only a few more months and she could do a Hephzibah Anderson.

BONG! The Christmas party was a little dull but then she couldn't drink as she was being interviewed on national radio the next morning, live!

BONG! She ended the kissing drought at new year by kissing firstly another friend's sure thing by accident (oops) and then a 7ft tall Kiwi Edinburgh rugby player.

BONG! The inappropriate Uni Boy crush is well and truly over and she feels a little mortified about the whole thing.

BONG! She is being pursued by a farmer type with whom she had a really fun evening out when it was a friend's birthday, but he lives about three hours away. And has a small child. Which is kind of a new thing for her....

BONG! She has been set up by her lovely friend A with a work colleague... we'll call him Charlie. They went out on Friday and had fillet steak, wine, and talk about two-letter Scrabble words. It was fun. They're meeting again this week - more developments on this story to follow.

BONG! She grudgingly went back on Soulmates after lovely friend L met a guy on there she has now started dating. An enterprising type got his email address to her without her subscribing and, after an initial confusion making his email think she was spam, they are now conversing.

BONG! Is it so wrong to go on multiple dates? They do it on SATC all the time!

BONG! Digressing. Anyway. EVERYONE seems to want to set her up with someone at the moment. Is this what happens after you've been single 18 months? Or is it that "nearly 30" tattoo on her head?

She has met her future husband. Oh, did I not mention that at the beginning? How remiss of her. Technically they met 10 years ago, but don't properly know each other. Anyhow. They met again, through a bizarre series of coincidences, last weekend. And could not stop talking to each other. And she has not felt like this in what seems like aeons. So, even if nothing were to happen she admits begrudgingly, she'd always have the memory of that fluttery, ooh it's-97-and-I've-just-done-poppers-for-the-first-and-last-time feeling in her head that FH brought about. What, I hear you ask, is the problem? A girlfriend. He has a girlfriend. But of course.

Hope you're all feeling suitably informed! Those are, of course, just the headlines. Detailed briefing later. She promises not to leave it another three months!

Like a phoenix from the flames....

Gosh, has it been so long? She is blushing at the complete lack of blogging in her life of late. There was a bit of a lull, granted, but she kind of got sidetracked by life in various guises. But now she has many tales to tell, hurrah! And is hoping for many more to be created in the coming months (in a film, this would be the cue for an OTT wink). Double hurrah!
Let the wild rumpus begin...