Not sure if I'm up for a night out - got in at 1am this morning and was woken by my alarm at the usual time of 6:15am... it's a cruel life! Surviving remarkably well at work, however I think others are beginning to notice how little I am getting done. damn. Blame the flu!
Might get a second wind when I get home to some warmth and look in the kitchen and gaze fondly at the collection of alcohol in the corner :)
I am becoming quite the accomplished cocktail-maker lately. practice. loads of practice.
Friday, 12 December 2008
Friday, 5 December 2008
stood up!
A week or so ago I received a smart ass email about something written on my profile. The boy wasn't ugly, I was bored, so I responded in kind. Cue a week's worth of trading smartass emails, and he suggested we meet up, I nominated a day and told him where I worked... he picked the time and the pub.
So I get to the pub near work at about 3 minutes past 6... and realise it's a fairly spread out pub with tiny little rooms and alcoves. So I walk into one and call him number.... nice recorded operator's voice informs me it is not possible to connect to this number...
walk outside, sit under a heater, go through my phone trying to call and chat to anyone and everyone I know so that I can a) whinge about the situation and b) not look like nelly-no-friends
15-20min later I am out of phone conversations to have... and patience so I go home
by the time I get home there is no apologetic text message, log onto the computer and check my mail - no apologetic email either. Begin to type him a mail that says 'you stood me up you bastard!' and think screw it, I'm gonna try calling him again so I can tell him myself rather than type it... and *this* time his phone rings.
Phone conversation starts of with: Hi, you stood me up you bastard! (I am nothing if not direct)
turns out the computer system went down at work and he was delayed waiting for it to come back up. The (silly) boy hadn't put my number into his phone yet, so he couldn't call me and let me know he was late. When I'd rung him he was still on the tube. He got there 5-10min after I left. Funnily enough there was a blonde girl waving, so he walked up to her and started apologising for being such a wanker... until he realised she was waving to the bloke behind him. Then he tried to call me, but I was on the tube.
All in all a perfectly synchronised avoiding-of-eachother!
So he'd just typed an apolgetic email when I rang to abuse him - and true to form it arrived 30sec into our conversation... so I agreed to see him next week, but told him this time I'd make him come to my office building and call me when he arrived. sorted.
So I get to the pub near work at about 3 minutes past 6... and realise it's a fairly spread out pub with tiny little rooms and alcoves. So I walk into one and call him number.... nice recorded operator's voice informs me it is not possible to connect to this number...
walk outside, sit under a heater, go through my phone trying to call and chat to anyone and everyone I know so that I can a) whinge about the situation and b) not look like nelly-no-friends
15-20min later I am out of phone conversations to have... and patience so I go home
by the time I get home there is no apologetic text message, log onto the computer and check my mail - no apologetic email either. Begin to type him a mail that says 'you stood me up you bastard!' and think screw it, I'm gonna try calling him again so I can tell him myself rather than type it... and *this* time his phone rings.
Phone conversation starts of with: Hi, you stood me up you bastard! (I am nothing if not direct)
turns out the computer system went down at work and he was delayed waiting for it to come back up. The (silly) boy hadn't put my number into his phone yet, so he couldn't call me and let me know he was late. When I'd rung him he was still on the tube. He got there 5-10min after I left. Funnily enough there was a blonde girl waving, so he walked up to her and started apologising for being such a wanker... until he realised she was waving to the bloke behind him. Then he tried to call me, but I was on the tube.
All in all a perfectly synchronised avoiding-of-eachother!
So he'd just typed an apolgetic email when I rang to abuse him - and true to form it arrived 30sec into our conversation... so I agreed to see him next week, but told him this time I'd make him come to my office building and call me when he arrived. sorted.
Thursday, 4 December 2008
my single friend
I am now someone's single friend. Actually, I have been for a little over a week... Fabulous friend from touch rugby (and indeed half of my team) have been on it for a few months now and have been dating half of London... and it doesn't sound like the bad half.
So my profile is up, photos are uploaded and fabulous friend (who works in communications) has written a fabulous description of me, making me sound ever so sassy and date-worthy.
Trawling through the photos is quite fun. Really it's like shopping online for a boy, with pictures and a brief resume before you even bother to think about purchasing. After trawling through 70+ pages of boy's faces
(search criteria: London, employed, non-smoker, no kids, aged 24-32)
I begin to establish somewhat of an efficient system. Photos with a nice grin stand out. Extra points for dimples, however disappointingly enough there aren't many to be found. Photos where the boy has taken it of himself lose points. It's all about the extra photos - it's amazing how different guys can look from different angles! If he only has photos he has taken himself, he is dismissed. If he has photos with bunches of mates, he gains points. Many bonus points if they're hot. Photos where he has cut out an exgirlfriend also lose points. tacky. Although one bright spark edited his photo with a girl to include an arrow and 'sister!'. Funny. Shame he wasn't hot enough.
London is beginning to have an impact on me. I get snobby about jobs, I want an investment banker, doctor, or similarly successful-sounding career. Once the basics are perused, then and only then will I bother to read what his mate has written about him. Boy can cook - tick. According to everyone, their mate is the life of the party... although I can't take the piss too much cos my profile leads in that direction too - but in my case it's true! ;) Sense of humour must be evident enough to rate a mention. Sports-related hobbies and mention of althletic prowess also gain points.
Whilst flicking through men, I discovered one mate on there, nice photo of him - you can't tell he looks like an overmuscled hobbit at all. There is also no way of knowing he comes with more baggage than a transatlantic flight. I start to get a little scared.
Then I recognise another face - a boy from work. A *cute* boy from work... one I stare at whenever the opportunity arises. He has dimples when he smiles. He has them in spades. After reading his profile, he also has a very odd but cute-sounding nickname. Unfortunately he is 31 and looking for a girl aged 21-31 - loss of a massive amount of points right there. If he's prepared to date a woman a decade his junior, but not a year older than himself, I can only summise he's got that I-must-be-older-and-be-the-breadwinner mentality. He certainly has a decent career and probably would out-earn me, but I just don't like that traditional ideal. Besides which, I have a very strong belief in don't-screw-the-crew. Especially in this gossipy boys-club they call an office. But damn he's cute - dresses nicely too. His profile mentions martial arts. that's hot.
(sigh)
So my profile is up, photos are uploaded and fabulous friend (who works in communications) has written a fabulous description of me, making me sound ever so sassy and date-worthy.
Trawling through the photos is quite fun. Really it's like shopping online for a boy, with pictures and a brief resume before you even bother to think about purchasing. After trawling through 70+ pages of boy's faces
(search criteria: London, employed, non-smoker, no kids, aged 24-32)
I begin to establish somewhat of an efficient system. Photos with a nice grin stand out. Extra points for dimples, however disappointingly enough there aren't many to be found. Photos where the boy has taken it of himself lose points. It's all about the extra photos - it's amazing how different guys can look from different angles! If he only has photos he has taken himself, he is dismissed. If he has photos with bunches of mates, he gains points. Many bonus points if they're hot. Photos where he has cut out an exgirlfriend also lose points. tacky. Although one bright spark edited his photo with a girl to include an arrow and 'sister!'. Funny. Shame he wasn't hot enough.
London is beginning to have an impact on me. I get snobby about jobs, I want an investment banker, doctor, or similarly successful-sounding career. Once the basics are perused, then and only then will I bother to read what his mate has written about him. Boy can cook - tick. According to everyone, their mate is the life of the party... although I can't take the piss too much cos my profile leads in that direction too - but in my case it's true! ;) Sense of humour must be evident enough to rate a mention. Sports-related hobbies and mention of althletic prowess also gain points.
Whilst flicking through men, I discovered one mate on there, nice photo of him - you can't tell he looks like an overmuscled hobbit at all. There is also no way of knowing he comes with more baggage than a transatlantic flight. I start to get a little scared.
Then I recognise another face - a boy from work. A *cute* boy from work... one I stare at whenever the opportunity arises. He has dimples when he smiles. He has them in spades. After reading his profile, he also has a very odd but cute-sounding nickname. Unfortunately he is 31 and looking for a girl aged 21-31 - loss of a massive amount of points right there. If he's prepared to date a woman a decade his junior, but not a year older than himself, I can only summise he's got that I-must-be-older-and-be-the-breadwinner mentality. He certainly has a decent career and probably would out-earn me, but I just don't like that traditional ideal. Besides which, I have a very strong belief in don't-screw-the-crew. Especially in this gossipy boys-club they call an office. But damn he's cute - dresses nicely too. His profile mentions martial arts. that's hot.
(sigh)
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Characteristically Irresponsible
I spent most of my even-more-boring-than-usual workweek last week anticipating the weekend... Saturday finally arrived.
- Mooch around the house eagerly awaiting grocery delivery (consisting almost entirely of cocktail ingredients): Check
- Manage a pathetically slow jog along the Thames: Check (PS never *ever* again without gloves on, what was I thinking?)
- Make lots of cocktails for the girls: Check and double check... triple, quadruple, quintuple check even!
- Head out to lovely local trendy bar for a spot of boy-hunting: Check
Weekend was going swimmingly - I was even uncharacteristically responsible and ordered water when we got out to the bar. Then I got characteristically irresponsible and started drinking bourbon. Kept drinking bourbon until I was rolling drunk - although I only remember having 3 drinks! I'm still a little confused... I didn't think I'd had more to drink than any of the other girls and usually by the time I get that drunk it means that all other ordinary women should be passed out - my once-legendary capacity for alcohol may not be up the to standards I thought.
Don't remember the lights coming on at the end f the night.
Don't remember falling over whilst exiting the bar. classy!
Don't remember pashing some bloke on the bridge whilst two of my other friends attempted to hail a taxi. At least, according to them, he was quite good looking. Shame I don't remember him - now, not only do I not remember the last time I got laid... I can't even remember the last time I kissed a boy. tops.
my mother would be *so* proud
Managed to get home, have unholy craving for tuna salad (?!) which I can't remember making or eating, but did succeed in spilling lots on the floor - then chewed some gum and then - the classiness continues - somehow it fell out of my mouth and onto my bed - managed to roll in it all night and get it on both shoulders of my PJs, pillowcase and sheets - thankfully not in my hair. I did wake up and wonder why my bed smelt of peppermint extra.
Woke up feeling godawful and felt that way for the rest of the day... plus feeling a wee bit silly.
I am just constantly disappointing myself! The next night I got a text from an english boy - who made no effort when we dated earlier this year - asking me out for a drink and for some reason I agreed - but said just coffee round the corner, so at least I wasn't going out of my way, but don't know why I bothered.
So last night I get a text at 8:15pm telling me he's had a shocker of a day at work and is just leaving the office - can we take a raincheck? The honest answer: nah, I really can't be arsed
I wished I written that. I didn't. I didn't reply at all.
good news is that my fabulous friend has signed me up for mysinglefriend.com and my profile just got approved and went live - so I spent most of last night cruising photos of boys online and watching them add me their favourites list and send the occasional message. Wonderful for the ego.
wish I could play with my profile during work hours... but the colourful website is just a little too obvious... and cruising for men online during work hours would surely be looked down upon. Shopping and blogging however...
I just hope no one notices
- Mooch around the house eagerly awaiting grocery delivery (consisting almost entirely of cocktail ingredients): Check
- Manage a pathetically slow jog along the Thames: Check (PS never *ever* again without gloves on, what was I thinking?)
- Make lots of cocktails for the girls: Check and double check... triple, quadruple, quintuple check even!
- Head out to lovely local trendy bar for a spot of boy-hunting: Check
Weekend was going swimmingly - I was even uncharacteristically responsible and ordered water when we got out to the bar. Then I got characteristically irresponsible and started drinking bourbon. Kept drinking bourbon until I was rolling drunk - although I only remember having 3 drinks! I'm still a little confused... I didn't think I'd had more to drink than any of the other girls and usually by the time I get that drunk it means that all other ordinary women should be passed out - my once-legendary capacity for alcohol may not be up the to standards I thought.
Don't remember the lights coming on at the end f the night.
Don't remember falling over whilst exiting the bar. classy!
Don't remember pashing some bloke on the bridge whilst two of my other friends attempted to hail a taxi. At least, according to them, he was quite good looking. Shame I don't remember him - now, not only do I not remember the last time I got laid... I can't even remember the last time I kissed a boy. tops.
my mother would be *so* proud
Managed to get home, have unholy craving for tuna salad (?!) which I can't remember making or eating, but did succeed in spilling lots on the floor - then chewed some gum and then - the classiness continues - somehow it fell out of my mouth and onto my bed - managed to roll in it all night and get it on both shoulders of my PJs, pillowcase and sheets - thankfully not in my hair. I did wake up and wonder why my bed smelt of peppermint extra.
Woke up feeling godawful and felt that way for the rest of the day... plus feeling a wee bit silly.
I am just constantly disappointing myself! The next night I got a text from an english boy - who made no effort when we dated earlier this year - asking me out for a drink and for some reason I agreed - but said just coffee round the corner, so at least I wasn't going out of my way, but don't know why I bothered.
So last night I get a text at 8:15pm telling me he's had a shocker of a day at work and is just leaving the office - can we take a raincheck? The honest answer: nah, I really can't be arsed
I wished I written that. I didn't. I didn't reply at all.
good news is that my fabulous friend has signed me up for mysinglefriend.com and my profile just got approved and went live - so I spent most of last night cruising photos of boys online and watching them add me their favourites list and send the occasional message. Wonderful for the ego.
wish I could play with my profile during work hours... but the colourful website is just a little too obvious... and cruising for men online during work hours would surely be looked down upon. Shopping and blogging however...
I just hope no one notices
Thursday, 20 November 2008
something occurred to me...
I can't remember the last time I got laid.
literally.
..not cos it was so long ago... just because I actually can't remember the night
tragic.
my friends find it quite amusing though.
I've silenced my inner critic and arrived at the conclusion that my friend and I definitely got our drinks spiked. Having drunk copious amounts of champagne since (purely in the name of research ofcourse) and survived to describe the night in detail, I just can't explain that night any other way.
In a way I guess I'm lucky I wasn't attacked, or didn't wake up next to a bloke who resembled the hunchback of Notre Dame - thankful for small mercies. It has been a tragically long time between getting any luvvin for me though, it'd be far nicer to remember it - although I guess I'm optimistically assuming I'd want to... never can be too sure with boys these days! there are certainly some one night stands I'd prefer I didn't remember...
literally.
..not cos it was so long ago... just because I actually can't remember the night
tragic.
my friends find it quite amusing though.
I've silenced my inner critic and arrived at the conclusion that my friend and I definitely got our drinks spiked. Having drunk copious amounts of champagne since (purely in the name of research ofcourse) and survived to describe the night in detail, I just can't explain that night any other way.
In a way I guess I'm lucky I wasn't attacked, or didn't wake up next to a bloke who resembled the hunchback of Notre Dame - thankful for small mercies. It has been a tragically long time between getting any luvvin for me though, it'd be far nicer to remember it - although I guess I'm optimistically assuming I'd want to... never can be too sure with boys these days! there are certainly some one night stands I'd prefer I didn't remember...
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
A Fairy Tale Romance
so I'm back in the country, friends and family visited, wedding completed and (you'd have to hope by now) consummated... no dramas on the big day... no rain until we'd reached the reception - then the heavens opened (really very kind of them to hold off until the photos were done though)
My first effort as bridesmaid - quite exhausting really.
Bridesmaid-status was achieved not only by having been bestest-buddies with the bride since we were 12, but also by having the proud distinction of having set the happy couple up. It was a proud day for me.
Once upon a time...
It all started 5 years ago at a friend's house party... somehow the topic of blind dates came up and the bride-to-be fatefully commented that she'd probably trust my judgement if I were to try and set her up with someone. This got me to thinking... I worked with about 60 blokes, there'd have to be one that was at least semi-decent. And so I chose one for her, cited his favourable features of being tall, wearing glasses, and no doubt (knowing he had a computer-geek's natural aversion to exercise) skinny legs (the bride-to-be favoured the skinny academic look)
So she thought he sounded suitable and I had to embark upon Phase 2: convincing my ever-so-shy geeky workmate to go on a blind date. Hmn. Given that our office was more prone to gossip than your average knitting circle, I ever-so-cleverly messaged the boy via computer
you ever been on a blind date?
yeah, once
wanna go on another one?
Fortunately the boy manned-up and agreed. Unfortunately his boss and another co-worker were reading the conversation over his shoulder at the time and the impending date became the subject of much speculation and merriment throughout the entire office.
Realising the narrow chance this had of ended happily ever after, I gave the boy what I thought was the most genius get-out-of-this-with-ego-intact escape clause. Look, I told him, if she doesn't like you - don't be insulted, she has this *terrible* habit of only falling for absolute assholes.
he contemplated this for a second, then said: ...so what does that mean if she likes me?
to which I replied - well then, it means she's grown some taste!
(can you believe that I don't work in marketing!?!)
so the date went ahead - a triple date, my (now ex)boyfriend and I, my friend and her boyfriend, and the lucky couple-to-be.
[Carrie, Sex and the City: "I believe there is a curse put on the head of anyone who tries to set up their friends"]
and my selfless cupid-like act came back to bite me big time.
The bride-to-be had rung me and told me that it just wasn't happening for her - he's a lovely bloke she said, but the magic wasn't there, there was no spark.
No worries I told her - not like I expected you to marry him!
The groom came to visit me at work soon after, perched on the edge of my desk, and with eyes positively glistening exclaimed "Thanks so much for setting me up with her! ...I'm eternally indebted to you! She's wonderful!"
I thought ohhh my lord... he's going to cry when he finds out!
So the bride-to-be had planned in detail how best to break up with him when he came round one evening. He came round with a dozen long stemmed red roses. The plan went out the window.
and the rest... as they say... is history :)
My first effort as bridesmaid - quite exhausting really.
Bridesmaid-status was achieved not only by having been bestest-buddies with the bride since we were 12, but also by having the proud distinction of having set the happy couple up. It was a proud day for me.
Once upon a time...
It all started 5 years ago at a friend's house party... somehow the topic of blind dates came up and the bride-to-be fatefully commented that she'd probably trust my judgement if I were to try and set her up with someone. This got me to thinking... I worked with about 60 blokes, there'd have to be one that was at least semi-decent. And so I chose one for her, cited his favourable features of being tall, wearing glasses, and no doubt (knowing he had a computer-geek's natural aversion to exercise) skinny legs (the bride-to-be favoured the skinny academic look)
So she thought he sounded suitable and I had to embark upon Phase 2: convincing my ever-so-shy geeky workmate to go on a blind date. Hmn. Given that our office was more prone to gossip than your average knitting circle, I ever-so-cleverly messaged the boy via computer
you ever been on a blind date?
yeah, once
wanna go on another one?
Fortunately the boy manned-up and agreed. Unfortunately his boss and another co-worker were reading the conversation over his shoulder at the time and the impending date became the subject of much speculation and merriment throughout the entire office.
Realising the narrow chance this had of ended happily ever after, I gave the boy what I thought was the most genius get-out-of-this-with-ego-
he contemplated this for a second, then said: ...so what does that mean if she likes me?
to which I replied - well then, it means she's grown some taste!
(can you believe that I don't work in marketing!?!)
so the date went ahead - a triple date, my (now ex)boyfriend and I, my friend and her boyfriend, and the lucky couple-to-be.
[Carrie, Sex and the City: "I believe there is a curse put on the head of anyone who tries to set up their friends"]
and my selfless cupid-like act came back to bite me big time.
The bride-to-be had rung me and told me that it just wasn't happening for her - he's a lovely bloke she said, but the magic wasn't there, there was no spark.
No worries I told her - not like I expected you to marry him!
The groom came to visit me at work soon after, perched on the edge of my desk, and with eyes positively glistening exclaimed "Thanks so much for setting me up with her! ...I'm eternally indebted to you! She's wonderful!"
I thought ohhh my lord... he's going to cry when he finds out!
So the bride-to-be had planned in detail how best to break up with him when he came round one evening. He came round with a dozen long stemmed red roses. The plan went out the window.
and the rest... as they say... is history :)
Saturday, 25 October 2008
Viva Las Australia
It was a weird feeling, showering Wednesday morning and knowing that it was my last shower for at least 2 days
No, I wasn't going trekking somewhere exotic, I was going into the office, then going straight to the airport and flying to Australia
it's a long long way from London
2 tube rides
3 plane trips
1 train ride
and a short car trip later and I was home
flew out Wednesday, arrived on Friday. Thursday was lost to the world... passed in a haze of boring movies and novel pre-packaged servings of food
Slept most of yesterday and was wide awake at 4am this morning. After eating 3 chocolate bars for breakfast I managed to run 5km, go for a swim in the pool, go shopping with friends, visit my Dad (and commandeer overnight use of his car), attend my friend's fitting for her wedding dress, and after I have dinner with Mum I will drive an hour and a half north to visit a friend. It's his 4year old's birthday, but I'll get there too late to say hello to the little man.
I am redefining exhausted. Hopefully I'll live to blog again.
No, I wasn't going trekking somewhere exotic, I was going into the office, then going straight to the airport and flying to Australia
it's a long long way from London
2 tube rides
3 plane trips
1 train ride
and a short car trip later and I was home
flew out Wednesday, arrived on Friday. Thursday was lost to the world... passed in a haze of boring movies and novel pre-packaged servings of food
Slept most of yesterday and was wide awake at 4am this morning. After eating 3 chocolate bars for breakfast I managed to run 5km, go for a swim in the pool, go shopping with friends, visit my Dad (and commandeer overnight use of his car), attend my friend's fitting for her wedding dress, and after I have dinner with Mum I will drive an hour and a half north to visit a friend. It's his 4year old's birthday, but I'll get there too late to say hello to the little man.
I am redefining exhausted. Hopefully I'll live to blog again.
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