18 Too Many Bloggers...

I'm not having much luck with this online dating malarkey.

A fellow blogger called Bamberio seemed to think so too. She suggested I go on a date with a guy whose blog she'd been reading.

Plentymorefishoutofwater was also writing about his dating experiences (the difference being that he was actually having some) and Bamberio thought it would be just 'brilliant' if me and him went on a date and blogged about it afterwards.

Now Bamberio's own blog is about rugby players so I presumed she must know stuff about men. She seemed convinced her idea, was a great idea. She even mentioned buying a hat...

I contacted Mr Fish to ask if he was aware he was being pimped out? He didn't seem to care and also seemed to think us going on a date might be a good idea.

I wasn't convinced though...

How can a blogger dating a blogger ever be a good idea?

No matter what happened on the date we'd have to blog about it. We wouldn't be able to help ourselves.

If one liked the other more than the other liked them, it would be blogged about.
If neither of us liked each other, it would be blogged about.
Even if it went really well, it would be blogged about.

Every flipping thing would be blogged about.

We'd constantly be trying to out-blog each other.

Wouldn't it be a case of too many bloggers spoiling the...er...spoiling things...?

I just didn't know what to do. So I dithered...and I dithered...and I dithered some more...

I dithered for so long that it appears that Mr Fish got fed up and started pursuing a hairdresser with a green thong.

Of course that's when going out with him suddenly seemed like the best idea I'd ever heard.

Why is it that we become interested in someone when they're no longer interested in us? It's nature's cruel trick.

It had happened to me before. I'd been on a night out in Amsterdam and my friends and I were trying to teach ourselves to pole dance in the middle of a busy bar (there was a pole there obviously.) A Dutch guy seemed to like my moves and wanted to talk to me in guttural and tell me I was lekker ding. I was far too busy trying to become Fantasia Sparkletush or something to pay him any attention though.

So what did he do? He went and sucked face with the toilet attendant, that's what.

Weirdly that's when I decided I wanted him. To hell with the pole! (I wasn't doing very well at mastering it anyway.)

It was too late though. He wasn't interested in me anymore. I had nothing to offer him. I couldn't get him into the toilets for free - you need to pay to visit many toilets in Holland, even in bars. You spend far more than a penny. It can make for an expensive night. He was actually being sensible in his choice of snog.

I couldn't compete.

Same now. I can't cut hair and I don't wear green thongs.

What do you get when you cross a blogger with a blogger?
I've no idea, I was too busy dithering to find out.



http://studsonthe22.blogspot.com/
http://plentymorefishoutofwater.blogspot.com/

2 Bully For Me

I think this is going to have to be renamed 'Tales from the Cupboard that is Masquerading as an Office' (that's definitely cupboard, not closet by the way). I know it doesn't quite have the same ring to it, but since I started this temp job I feel as though I'm never flipping here!

The job does have some plus points though. For a start I'm now up in time to see the sunrise from my bedroom window. And as well as that there's........erm.......come on there must be something...... think....... think............ok, that's the only plus point but Manchester really does have some lovely sunrises.

Day one was actually ok (which is high praise indeed when its coming from me, and I'm talking about temp jobs), once I'd got over that feeling of being a child at a new school that is. 'Please Miss, I don't know what to do.''Please Miss, can I go the toilet?' In fact where are the toilets? 'Please Miss, can you check my work?' 'Please Miss, did I spell mandibular and maxillary correctly?' I did? 'Please Miss, can I get a gold star then?'

I'd also only been there all of five minutes when I discovered one of the consultants is friends with my dentist (I'm working in oral surgery so this was quite a normal conversation to have.) What is weird though, is that he's friends with my dentist in Scotland. All very coincidental and bizarre, but surely it meant I had an immediate ally and he wouldn't let any of the other kids bully me?

Turns out that being the new girl meant that I was actually a source of interest to the other kids and no-one wanted to give me a dead arm anyway. They clamoured round me in the playground and wanted to know everything, in particular about life in the Tower. What famous people live there? Have I see them? Does the Tower sway in the wind? How long does the lift take? And the biggie, do I get to go to the Hilton bar, Cloud 23, lower down in the Tower without queuing?

All too soon, day two comes though. Day two when you're expected to know what you are doing. Day two when you are old news. Day two when no-one is interested in talking to you anymore and you end up eating your lunch in the girls toilets wishing you'd at least pretended you get VIP access to Cloud 23.

On day two I also got a bit of training on their computer systems. The trainer wanted to get me prepared for what to do in 18 weeks when I'd need to change my password. 18 weeks? 18 weeks?! I don't think I've ever worked anywhere for 18 weeks. That's like forever. I started feeling myself hyperventilate....

Then I got a call. From a TV company. I couldn't answer it but felt myself immediately relaxing. Surely it was about a job and I'd be able to leave without even doing 18 hours, never mind weeks? I listened to the voicemail at the first opportunity. Please be about a job...please be about a job...please....!

It wasn't about a job. Well it was, but just a little one I'm doing for them this weekend. Nothing that required me to pack up my satchel and shout to the other kids 'See ya, wouldn't want to be ya,' and strop out before the bell had rung.

So looks like I'm there for the foreseeable future. Don't worry I'll be fine. Not sure when I'm meant to fit in all my dates though (the ones I'm bound to start having soon), never mind tell you about them. Work doesn't half cut in to your day.