22 I'm Single, Let's Mingle

There was a moment the other week that I thought I was going to be a bit like Bob Geldof.

I'd come up with the idea for a brilliant campaign and I felt pretty sure it was going to be become a world-wide phenomenon. Plus, it was going to be a very worthy venture because it would help a large chunk of the population that are really in need but often get forgotten about.

And they are of course...Single People.

My brainwave came about quite by accident. If you remember, last post but one, was about how I'd given out my phone number to a random barman, and despite subsequently discovering that he had a girlfriend, I decided that it was still a good approach. I finished by telling you that I'd had the opportunity to do it again the same week...

Basically I was out with my friend Lu (so named because she is just a 'little un') and we'd just popped into one of our regular haunts for some pub grub, when the barman greeted me with 'I know you!'

I also knew him, but I wasn't sure where from. I don't know about you but I'm terrible for placing people when I see them out of context. I remember being adamant that a fellow diner in a restaurant was from a boyband, when in actual fact he just worked in my local Tescos.

It became clear though, when barman explained that he'd got a new job and just a few weeks before he'd been working in my local bar.

Ah yes, of course.

What was still unclear though, was how he knew that I frequent his previous place of employment, because when he did work there I swear that he never used to pay me the blindest bit of attention.

Unfortunately I can't say the same for me because Mr Barman was so gorgeous I couldn't help but look at him. His face was made to be ogled. It would have been rude not to.

Anyway I decided to ignore the past and concentrate on the fact that Mr Barman was paying me attention in the here and now. (Well they do say that the present is a gift and all that.)

As it was only a few days since my 'success' with Luscious Luke, and I was still feeling ten foot tall and bullet-proof, I decided that I would not be leaving without giving my number to this fittie.

Anyway, cutting a long story short, and bypassing accounts of my attempts to flirt for Scotland, it soon became time for us to leave. Despite being desperate for a wazz, I told Lu that I didn't need and let her go to the ladies alone (Girl in 'Going to Toilet on Her Own' Shocker!) because I was going to make my move...

Okay here goes....

C'mon Rapunzel, you can do it..

I'm sorry readers but I couldn't 'do it'. Turns out I'm a big feardy cat.

I tried to convince myself that it was because I didn't want to become a 'number-giver-outer-floozie'. Also I like that bar he works in and I didn't want to make things awkward for either of us any time I went back in there.

Fact is though, I think I was most worried that he may actually have a girlfriend. Of course he may not have been interested in me full stop anyway.

What if he was though, and just didn't think it appropriate to be making moves on the customers a few weeks into a new job?

If only there was a way for single people to tell that other single people were single.

That's when I had a brainwave...

People could wear something to indicate their single status. Like those traffic light nights where people wear certain coloured clothes depending on what they are 'up for' that evening. This would be a daily thing though, similar to those that are married wearing a ring.

There starteth my idea for a campaign. It was going to be brilliant!

I mentioned it to my mum, thinking she'd feel proud about how clever her daughter is. She just wanted to know what I'd envisaged people wearing. Her suggestion was a sticker.

Yep, a sticker. Seriously.

Okay I might not have come up with anything definitive but I knew for sure that 'a sticker' was a pants idea. For starters you never know when you might meet your Mr or Mrs Right so should be advertising your singleness at all times.

I can just imagine if I'd turned up for work at the Breast Unit wearing my 'I'm available' sticker. I'm pretty sure that my new boss would have promptly called my temp agency to express concern that it seemed I was more interested in picking up doctors than typing up letters.

Nope that definitely wasn't going to work. I called my brother to tell him what a silly suggestion my mum had made and asked for his ideas. Imagine my surprise when he informed me that my whole campaign was shit.

He pointed out that if us single girls were wearing a ring, bracelet, t-shirt, tattoo, sticker or whatever, that announced we were unattached, we could no longer ward off any minging guys that approached us, with the excuse that we have a boyfriend.

Oh yeah. I could see his point. And I didn't have any comeback for him.

So that was the end of that. My time as a campaign leader lasted for a mere...ooh...half an hour.

Unless you have any suggestions on how to make it work that is? Come on, unweds need you! Help singles mingle!

37 The One and Only

Sometimes I love being single.

Of course it can have its disadvantages. And obviously the fact that I've recently done such things as join an online dating agency and go on a date with a fellow blogger, means that I do want to meet someone and not end up as a spinster whose idea of fun is a new packet of Werther's Originals.

But like I said though, sometimes life as a single girl is great. The freedom, the independence, the not having to shave your legs regularly.

Then there are the days like today. The days that the universe sends you little messages to try and tell you that being single is a big, fat, negative situation. That you aren't an independent women, you are just in fact, all alone in the world. You are an inhabitant of Lonelyville. Population: One.

It started when I went to a body pump class this morning. Was quite impressed with myself for dragging my lazy ass to the gym on a Friday morning. Especially as I was out on the razzle dazzle last night. Got to the class and to say that that attendance was low, would be an understatement. It was just me.

The teacher asked if I wanted to go ahead. I decided I would. I mean it had taken a lot of effort to go to the class, I'd be as well doing some exercise. And in actual fact, wouldn't it be a bit like having a personal training session? Just without the big payment? See, there is a positive side to every situation.

My plan would have worked were it not for the fact that the teacher was clearly still in I've got a class full of people mode and deemed it necessary to put her microphone on and regularly shout instructions like 'Come on everyone! Put some effort in!'

I can only imagine that the muscle men pumping weights just outside the studio must have wondered who the 'everyone' was when all they could see was me. Was she doing a class for someone special? Body pump for Schizophrenics.

Was heading home from the gym feeling a bit like a loser when my phone beeped with a text from my friend Darren.

Hi darling. Just wanted to tell you I had an amazing time with you last night xxxxx

Great. Except I didn't see Darren last night. Plus he usually texts me as though I'm one of the boys. No, this text clearly wasn't for me.

Now this isn't a story about sending a text to the wrong person, of which I have many. For starters, there is the time my brother sent a text to a family friend by accident asking if they 'fancied a shag.' A male family friend.

No this is about the fact that I was having a little laugh to myself about Darren's mistake and was just sending him a cheeky reply saying that I thought it was lovely he'd started calling me darling, when there was another beep...

Obviously that last text wasn't for you.

Obviously. Obviously I'm not worthy of a 'darling'. Or a 'xxxxx'. Or even a 'x'. Mind you it appears I don't even deserve a 'how are you anyway?'

Arrived at the Tower and checked to see if I'd received any post. There was just one solitary envelope in the mailbox. (Are you spotting a theme here?)

It was a circular, looking for donations to charity. I opened it up. There at the top of the page in massive letters is 'One is the saddest number' and then 'Dear Friend, this letter, as you'll have gathered, is about loneliness...'

Give me a bloody break universe! I refuse to let you piss on my single portion of chips from a great height. Sometimes it is great to be a single girl. Honestly. For a start it means that you are able to decide on a whim to go on holiday with your best mate!

Yep, me and Taggart are heading off to the sun next week. Adios!

22 Family Affair

It's been all about a boy recently, so I was looking forward to my friend visiting from Holland for some girlie time. We were going to paint each other's nails, have pillow fights in our underwear and talk about shopping and periods. Just the usual.

This is where you realise I'm lying, because you all know Fishy loves a bit of menstrual cycle chat and you probably think I'm all talked out on that particular subject.

Anyway, we were having a lovely weekend and while sitting drinking cocktails one afternoon, Lego moved the conversation on to my blog. (As an aside, my friend may live in Holland, but she is actually from Denmark and for some reason wasn't keen on my suggestion to refer to her as the Great Dane. She wanted to be called Lego. Something about how people enjoy playing with it..)

'I presume you have exaggerated some of the dates you've been on?'

'Sadly, I actually haven't.'

'You must have. Some of the guys sound like arseholes. They can't really exist can they?'

Ah, spoken like a true Attached Person. Internally I rubbed my hands with glee.

You see we were going out that night and I knew that I wouldn't have to do a thing. I could just sit back and relax and the weirdos would come to us. Lego would never doubt the accuracy of my blog again. The men out in Manchester wouldn't let me down.

And they didn't. Step forward Mr Cliche...

This is the guy that approaches you and asks if you and your friend are related. Or in this case, it was more like...

'Ello booootiful laydeeezz. You are seesters yesss? Yesss you must be seesters. You ave thee same boooootiful face.'

Now this happens to me all the time. Taggart and I are forever getting it. Either I'm a shapeshifter and can transform myself to look like whatever friend I'm out with, or guys think it is a good line.

In this case I'm sure it was all about the latter, because Lego and I look nowt alike. She is all blonde and nordic, whereas I'm dark and, if I believed everything I'm told, look a bit Spanish, Thai, Chinese, Indian and like Elvis.

To be fair to the guy though, we are both female so he probably had a point.

'Yes we are sisters' we tell him.

No, I don't know why we were encouraging him either.

'I knew theess. You are tweeens yesss?'

'Yes we are.'

Taxi for Lego and Rapunzel.

Well, at this point you would have thought we had just told him he'd won the lottery. His expression suggested all his Christmasses had come at once. He clearly felt sure that he was 'in'.

I really, really, really don't understand this.

Not only because this guy looked like Danny DeVito. But shorter. He probably didn't get much opportunity to be 'in' anywhere, very often. Particularly with twins.

More because like I said, this has happened before. After replying in the affirmative when a Greek barman asked Taggart and I if we were twins, we got an invitation to his home. And he certainly didn't just want us to taste his moussaka.

Now it seemed that Mr DeVito's thoughts were heading along the same tangent.

Do twins ever actually do this?

Do they enjoy a bit of tete´-a-tete´-a-tete´?

What about sisters? Do they?

Only having a male sibling, I've no idea. It was bad enough when I borrowed an old phone of his and found texts on it from a girl saying exactly what she wanted to do to him. Eurgh, that's my brother!!! Minging.

If anyone has any thoughts on/experience in, this matter then feel free to let me know.

It certainly gives a new dimension to the term 'spending time with the family.'

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!

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....