Thursday 29 October 2009

8 Fairytales...

My friend just called to ask if I'd been discussing being single with her 3 year old daughter Summer, when I looked after her for a short while the other day. I said I hadn't. I could have I suppose but as Summer had spent a lot of the time in tears because I'd pressed the button in the lift and it is supposedly her job, she seemed to have other things on her mind.

Turns out Summer had asked my friend why I don't have a prince and live in the tower all alone. I think next time I'm babysitting and she wants a bedtime story, I'll have to read her my blog instead and give her a current version of the fairytale!

Wednesday 28 October 2009

0 Tales from Suburbia

It takes a lot to get me to leave the city and go out to suburbia. Why would I when I have everything on my doorstep? As my friend had invited me round to hers for dinner though and as hers is in suburbia, I'd made an exception.

Sitting next to a nose-picker on the bus wasn't the best start to my trip out of town but I'd just tried to feel grateful I don't have to travel by public transport and encounter people like him every day. I also felt glad when I arrived that I'm not one of the neighbours of the residents that have put up their Christmas decorations on the front of their house already. Great big flashing lights that illuminate the whole street. I got a headache just walking past.

I was still in a reasonable mood though until some jobsworth in Tescos decided to ruin it. It appears that when I left the city I somehow went back in time. Back to when I wasn't old enough to buy alcohol. I got ID'ed buying a bottle of wine! I told her I was 33 so had stopped carrying proof of my age a long time ago, expecting her to laugh and say sorry and that I should feel flattered or words to that effect. No the jobsworth that she was, said... 'well you won't be buying this then' and took the bottle off me like I was a naughty child with my hands in the biscuit tin!! I had to walk past the queue behind me empty-handed and feeling mortified.

My friend promised me it was ok I'd turned up without wine but as we couldn't open the bottle I'd taken the last time I visited -the cork wouldn't come out or go in! - so I'd taken it away with me when I left, I think she is starting to get a bit suspicious. Not that it matters, I'm not going round again. Next time I'll get her to come to the City, to a place where 33 year olds are allowed to drink.

Tuesday 27 October 2009

1 Chickpeas

And just to clarify...I didn't turn down work to meet a guy for coffee. That would be foolhardy!

The job was in London starting on Monday and I'd only been called about it on Friday. Actually I don't know why I'm mentioning when I got the call cause the short notice wasn't relevant either. I'm used to that. It was that it was for 5 weeks and with no expenses being paid (as in relocating expenses - of course there was a wage!) Being the wise woman that I am I weighed up the pros and cons and decided that paying rent here as well as down there it would get that it wasn't worth it. And before you tell me that you have a friend I could have stayed with for a pittance and I've made a big mistake blah blah, I should add that I've tried living in London before. I love doing shoots there where you go and get put up in a hotel so when I got offered a 3 month job there and I was just back from travelling with no other prospects, I decided to give it a go. Turns out that when living in London, I'm a miserable bitch!! I hated the travel on top of the already long days and a lot more besides. I lasted two weeks.

So when I don't get any work in the next 5 weeks and am surviving on chickpeas can you remind me of my reasons for not taking the job and that Manchester is much more me. You could also perhaps invite me around for dinner involving something other than chickpeas...
And it goes without saying that if I end up moving to London in the near future, we never had this conversation...

8 Illicit Rendezvous

I could have been working yesterday but instead I had an illicit rendezvous (for 'illicit rendezvous' actually read 'coffee') with proposal guy.

We'd first met in Tampopo while both out having dinner with our respective friends. It's a noodle bar where you sit on benches like at school so it makes it easier to chat to random strangers. He laughed when the waiter knocked over my glass of wine and then saw his chance to swoop in, give me sympathy and then get my phone number (it happened so quickly, I didn't question it and just did as I was told!)

He invited me out on Sunday and we had a great date. A get-to-know-you chat over coffee, then a get-to-know-you-chat over dinner (which he paid for and even better he told me straight off he would be paying for it as he had invited me out - take note guys - girls love this as it saves lots of awkwardness when the bill comes) and then a we-feel-we-know-each-now chat and laugh over drinks. I really enjoyed and we got on well. What was the catch? He only lives in blimming Australia!

So we met for the second and last time yesterday in his hour window before he caught a flight to Thailand on his way home to Oz. Said we were glad to have met each other and I thanked him for doing his bit in reminding me there are decent blokes out there (that don't look like serial killers and aren't a couple of decades older than me). He said he'd felt a bit miffed he'd put in that groundwork only for some 'Pommie' to swoop in and reap the benefits. Ah if only it were that easy.

We bade each other goodbye and I sent him off with advice concerning pad thai and ping-pong shows. And that was the end of that.

p.s. Incase you are wondering...he didn't propose. I like to think though that as he said I had been his best date in years, that it was more to do with the fact he lives in Australia and me in Manchester than the fact he thought I was unproposable to (if that isn't a word, it should be!) I suppose it could also have been down to the fact that he'd got the impression I must be 'well to do' because of where I live and then on meeting me discovered that I'm more fur coat and no knickers.*

p.p.s Don't worry the waiter replaced my glass of wine. With a full one which was a result as I'd almost finished the one he knocked over.

* That wasn't my outfit for the date by the way.

Monday 26 October 2009

20 The Good, the Bad and the Serial Killer

When you have 20 unopened emails it all seems so promising...

I'd put up my profile after much deliberation (a male friend advised me my first one was crap and then the dating site itself didn't approve the second one - I didn't write enough about my hobbies seemingly! Maybe cause I don't have any?! Note to self: must get some hobbies.)

I'd chosen a photo that hopefully gives a true idea of the way I am (after being told the pet hate of men on these sites is meeting up with women who look nothing like their photo. It was quite hard to find one that shows my size, height, my hair, dress sense as well as one that shows I love X-Factor but hate mushrooms .)

I'd waited a bit to see if I was even going to get any mails and then had paid up in order to be able to read and reply to them.

I was now good to go. With 20 mails to read I was bound to have struck lucky...

Opened number 1. Looked like a serial killer. He even commented on how evil he looks in his photo, like he was proud or something.

Number 2 had no photo so could have looked like a serial killer.

3 had plenty of photos but unfortunately they were all just of his torso, showing his muscles.

At last! Number 4 sent me a nice funny mail, his profile is nice and so is his photo. Things are on the up!

Number 5 is 50. And yes, by 50 I mean years old. Does my photo suggest I'm looking for someone closer to my dad's age than my own?

Question my choice of photo again at number 6 as he states in his profile that he 'abhors TV.' I'm sure my photo clearly suggests I love X-Factor, Greys Anatomy, Home and Away and many other quality programmes.

Number 7 tells me he's only looking for 'no strings attached.'

Number 8 likely to be looking for the same as he asked if I would be interested in someone well-endowed. Does well-endowed ever mean tall cause his profile says he is 6ft 5. Nope? I didn't think it did.

A nice normal guy for number 9. Relief!

Number 10. Aged 56. Am losing the will to live again..

Number 11 is a bit of a contradiction...funny mail but really serious looking guy in his photo.

12 has told me I seem 'elegant'. No-one has ever described me as elegant before. Probably cause I'm not. Definitely need to change my photo.

13's message to me consists of 'lol' this and 'lol' that. Now with only six more messages to read maybe I'm not in a position to be fussy but I'm just not a big fan of lolling.

Number 14 says he can be a 'perfect gentleman or semi-thuggish depending on the needs.' At least if I feel like I'm need of a slap I'll know who to contact.
15 is 5ft 5.

16 is aged 59. I think I'm going to cry.

17 has sent me an absolutely hilarious mail...hurrah!..then I look at his photo...noooo!....he looks like the child catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

I don't think I need comment on number 18. I'll just let you read his mail...'wow--you have done something to me with just a picture--what kinda voodoo do you do when you do that thing you do--hot damn--what in the hell just happened to me--can you please email me--we need to chat--and i am far from crazy--but no--really--i don't know what just happened, but i have to chat with you--what did you do to me--lol--'.

Number 19 lives in Birmingham so says he isn't expecting a reply but just wanted to say hi.

And finally number 20...nice enough but all his mail says is hi and how are you? A bit uninspiring. And I'm not sure he'd really like my answer at the moment. How am I, number 20? I'm in disbelief that I've just paid over £40 for this....

Friday 23 October 2009

2 Modern Day Rapunzel

You could say I'm like a modern day Rapunzel. Ok I'm not trapped and I'm not waiting for a prince to rescue me. Nor do I have long hair. I do live in a tower though. A tower in Manchester that is the tallest residential building in the UK to be exact. According to my friend's 3 year old that makes me Rapunzel and as someone that is clued-up on fairytales I'm sure she knows what she is talking about....

Allegedly I have quite an unusual life. Not just because I live in this tower but also because I'm a freelancer so never know when I'm working next or whether I will have enough money to pay the expensive rent for my lovely apartment. People tell me that would be their idea of hell but I thrive on it. A well-meaner once said that it was ridiculous to live the way I do and it would be better to rent somewhere cheaper and save money for a rainy day. Apart from the fact it is forever raining in Manchester, it seems illogical to me to live somewhere I'm not as happy with, so I can save money in order to live somewhere in the future, somewhere like....where I live now.

As well as that I'm also single at 33, which may not be that unusual in today's society but in amongst my group of mostly married or attached friends it is. They tell me I'm fabulous and they can't understand it which is very nice and is the kind of thing supportive friends should say. It does suggest though that they think it's something I'm doing wrong and doesn't take into account that it may be through choice, which to a large extent it is. Admittedly the Kingdom of Singledom is a difficult place to live - there are some weird residents and weird laws but as well as that I'd much rather be happily single than unhappily attached to the wrong person.

As I'm forever the optimist though, I've just joined a dating website in a bid to meet that elusive Mr Rapunzel and in order to entertain my friends with stories from my side of the grass. I've also got a brand new flatmate - a guy whose surname I can't remember and can't say even if I could. And I've started a new fitness regime at the gym after over a year of my only exercise being the walk to the shops.

So quite an unusual time in general. Maybe even more so because I had my first marriage proposal today. Sort of. It was by text and the guy in question didn't actually ask me but said he may 'just have to propose.' That's almost the same though isn't it? It's promising as he's currently only spent half an hour in my company. Not sure what my answer would be if he did, will judge after our planned date....