He ticks all the boxes!

Sorry guys and gals, I’ve been too busy to blog lately and certainly haven’t had much to report on the lurve front. In fact, I’ve neglected this blog far too much; I’ve not spent enough time on it since I started it a few months back and I don’t feel my personality is shining through. Hmmmm. Must try harder. And if I don’t get round to it by December, Christmas shopping and parties will take over, and I’ll have to make it my New Year’s resolution.

Anyhoo, let me tell you about my latest date; let’s call him D. He’s tall, dark and handsome and that’s a very good place to start, let me tell you. Short and ginger doesn’t quite cut the mustard. He’s got a good job, works and lives in London, has an active social life and plays sport. Plus he’s funny too.

He’s another internet find but God knows what he’s doing on there; I find it hard to believe he’s not bombarded with offers of affection on a daily basis. But for some strange reason, he chose me. Thank you God!

We’ve been emailing for a few weeks and we engaged in proper conversation injected with humour. Sometimes guys send the most super dull emails, littered with spelling errors, bad grammar and irritating questions like “how’s your day been?”. Mundane. This guy’s were different and I was pretty sure we’d get on. Our weeks are busy, we work hard, play hard and like to let our hair down at the weekend.

He looked slightly different from his photos on t’internet, but not in a bad way; just different. And although I could tell he was a funny guy at heart, he was a tad more reserved in the flesh. There was something a bit mysterious about him. And I liked it.

We met for a drink in a London boozer and despite having to shout into each others’ ears a bit, three and a half hours flew by with plenty of positive body language. He walked me back to the tube station and…. the bit I dread… the should we/shouldn’t we kiss situation. It’s so awkward when one half doesn’t want the kiss and has to awkwardly make an excuse and run off. It can all get very messy.

But, the body language was good. We were facing each other, our winter coats brushing against each other’s. Simoultaneously we drew closer and kissed for what seemed like forever. Nope, it wasn’t perfect – clashing of teeth and a few timing issues ensued – but it wasn’t half bad and I felt a bit dreamy as I headed off into the tube station. Even my ticket failing to work as I attempted to pass through the station’s barriers couldn’t dampen my spirts and I rode the train home in a kind of dream.

So, all should be good. A super date with lots of potential and both parties appeared to get on well. But this is where I start to panic. First, thoughts of our wedding and what our children would look like. NOT!!! But, seriously, I do worry ‘cos when I like someone, it usually goes wrong and I have a bit of a history of not being able to bag a second date. And I so want a second date with D.

We exchanged more emails and I suggested we meet nearer to mine next time. To cut a long story short, he’s been working long hours and we’ve not fixed anything up yet, and now it’s too weeks later. What does that mean? Am I panicking unnecessarily? God only knows.

All I know is this. D has potential; he’s the first guy in ages who appears to tick all the boxes. Yes, that’s a clinical way of putting it but for someone as fussy as me, this guy is a catch. I’m a busy gal and can’t waste my time on any old fool, so fingers crossed. Here’s to a second date with D.

Third date decider

Okay, so I’ve made my mind up about Big Guy. It’s a no, no way, yuk, double yuk. I was never really sure how I felt and that in itself made me think it wasn’t meant to be. So, I went round to his place for dinner at the weekend, knowing that this, the third date, would be the decider.

It started badly as he hadn’t bothered to vacuum and bits all over the carpet tends to bother me somewhat. He cooked a tasty dinner, I’ll give him that, but after three dates conversation was still not entirely comfortable. Problem was, I don’t think he even noticed.

He had his hands all over me and it’s kinda tricky to get to know someone better as a person when they have their mouth stuck to yours. I knew Big Guy fancied me, that much was clear, but was he interested in me as a person? Not so sure.

On date number one he was a bit lacking on the asking questions front but at that point I was just grateful that he could talk and there would be no awkward silences. But by date three, this guy still wasn’t asking questions. He’d happily ramble on about his dull doings but never really asked me much. So, in order to get my views across, I had to speak up and  blurt out statements of fact.

We didn’t engage in conversation, more like swap statements. We each had our own monologue and just happened to stop talking when the other one broke into speech. To be honest, I was more interested in watching X Factor and found Big Guy’s running commentary a tad irritating. So, I made my excuses and left early – not before being pawed to death as I tried to run out the door.

I slept on it and decided, no way, this was not meant to be and I couldn’t endure a fourth date. The constant and mindless texting did my head in and, while Big Guy is fanciable, our personalities do not match. I consider myself pretty lively, a tad funny and sometimes mouthy. Big Guy is boring, uninspiring and has no spark.

So, when he text asking when he was going to see me next, I had to be honest. The exchange went something like this:

Me: “I’ve got a really manic couple of weeks (and explained reasons) and won’t be free for a while. It’s not fair to keep you waiting and, to be honest, I’m not really sure how I feel about you and me. Sorry!”

Big Guy: “You’re dumping me by text? I thought we got on well?”

Dumping him by text? We only had three dates, we weren’t exactly going steady!

Me: “I’m talking to you via text because I don’t have time to see you and because I have never spoken to you on the phone before. I like you but I find conversation a bit stinted and want a guy to be interested in me as a person, not just pyhsically.”

Big Guy: “Conversation is a two way thing and yes, I am very attracted to you but I like you because you’re intelligent and sporty and want to get to know you better.”

Yes, conversation is a two way thing and that’s the problem. I’m having to do it on my own!

Me: “I agree, conversation is a two way thing but it’s hard when one person doesn’t ask many questions as that’s how people get to know each other. Conversation does not flow between us and there is no chemistry personality-wise. Sorry, that’s just how I feel. You’re a great guy but not the guy for me.”

Big Guy: “Shame, do you want to meet for a drink when your busy couple of weeks are over?”

HELLO! Did you read any of my last texts??!! Men truly do not listen.

So, I told him to give me some space, ie not text, call, write, email or poke me via Facebook, until the end of the month and if he is still pining then, to get back in touch. And then I will say no again. I already feel like a weight has been lifted – no irritating texts, no pressure to fit someone into my hectic schedule and no one clawing at my clothes in an attempt to get them off.

Ahhh, singledom. You can’t beat it.

Panic!

Okay, I am panicking big style ‘cos I have absolutely no idea how I feel about the new guy I’ve been dating. I only saw him on Saturday and when he text me on Monday morning (he’d text a lot on Sunday too) asking what I was doing after work ‘cos he wanted to pop round and see me, my instant reaction was to think err, God no.

I stretched the truth a little and said my sporting commitment that evening would last two hours when it was actually 90 mins. Lie number one. And that I’d be going there straight from work. Lie number two. The thing is, I wouldn’t have much time between work and sport to get home, get changed, eat and run out the door anyway, so a man would have been an unwelcome distraction. And when I return home I’m usually a sweaty mess and no man, at this early stage in the dating game, is prepared for that.

I kinda fobbed him off a bit and said something about patience being a virtue and him having to wait until Saturday to see me – which is when date number three is planned. But I’ve just been checking his Facebook page and some girl has written on his wall complimenting him on his new profile pic and signing it with a kiss. I felt this jealous rage well up inside. Unreasonable or what!

So what exactly do I feel? Have I been single so long that dating is just so foreign to me that I’m a bit numb to it? But aren’t I supposed to jump up and down with excitement at the prospect of a guy that’s interested in me? And does it mean I don’t like him enough because I’m as yet unsure. Confused.com! Totally!

I first thought that you were supposed to get fireworks and you’d be desperate to see that person all the time. But I’ve grown up a bit and realised that it’s not like that for everyone and sometimes love grows. I am attracted to this guy, defo, but personality-wise I’m not 100 per cent. But I barely know the guy and feel I should give him a chance. And I’m so used to my own company that I sometimes don’t know what to do in the company of new people.  Maybe I’ll make more of an effort when I’m round his place, on his territory, ‘cos my private space and time won’t be invaded so obviously.

Talk about mixed emotions. I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I guess only time will tell. I need to get to know this guy better… and at least give him a name for the purpose of this blog. Hmmm, let’s call him Big Guy.

Not a good investment?

Tall Guy has been in contact so I should be pleased although I’m not really that fussed. Firstly, when I asked if he still wanted to come over this weekend he suddenly remembered that he can’t see me any weekend ‘cos he works in a bar Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. “I hope this won’t be a problem,” he writes.

Er, well, yes, it is a bit of a problem as I work Monday through Friday full time, as I’m sure he would have realised if he’d put his brain in. I have no objection to him coming over in the week but am reluctant to take time off only for him not to turn up. Which will most likely be the case.

So, although I would love to get my hands on Tall Guy’s athletics limbs once more, I’m not sure it’s a good investement. For all the time and effort I’ll have to put in just to organise a damn date probably won’t be worth the investment. I just can’t be bothered. It will never turn into a relationship and one night/two night/three night stands are more effort than pleasure.

But, apart from Tall Guy, there are no other guys on the scene. Not one. Not one single love interest, small crush or regular flirtation. I need to get hunting for a new victim!

Line up the single folk and pick your victim

It was a mate’s significant birthday over the weekend and as well as promising us cheap booze, a finger buffet to die for and plenty of cheesy dance music, she also highlighted the number of single men on the guest list. Excellent news, fresh victims, I thought.

There were a few single gals at the do, all stunning as is always the case, and three or four single chaps. Trouble is, you kinda assume that all single people will be drawn to all other single people and that’s just not the case. You can’t just pick your guy and go home with him. Shame.

So, when two of the guys stated a preference for my lovely blonde mate, my heart sank. There were single guys in the room and they just weren’t interested in me. My self confidence is nose diving a bit at the moment and I’ve come to realise that I’m just not that good looking. I ain’t ugly either but with so many single stunners out there, us average folk don’t get a look in. Depressing stuff.

As much as I enjoyed the party I was a tad miffed that none of the guys took a shine to me. I even wore a dress. Me and another mate sloped off into town after the party and drowned our sorrows. Not helped by the fact that we were joined by her foreign friend and Mariah Carey lookalike. She stopped guys in their tracks and, quite rightly so, lapped up the attention. Us two stragglers were defo the ugly friends that night!

I did manage to smooch with a guy called Gavin who took my phone number, reluctantly, so I insisted he shouldn’t feel obliged to use it. He hasn’t. To be honest, I can’t really remember what he looks like. Alcohol’s way of saving you from the trauma that he might well have been a minger.

Take the hint pal

Another random date from the past MSN-ed me last night. He gets in touch every now and then but we dated once and only once. He was a great guy but way too short for me and although I kissed him goodbye, it was more a sympathy kiss than a fancy kiss.

Anyway, every time he gets in touch he reminds me about my three date rule, something I must have mentioned to him before our date. The three date rule? Don’t sleep with a guy until the third date, basically. I don’t stick to this rule at all, let’s face it, but I like to pretend I have standards.

This guy was desperate for the third date to come around so he could jump in my pants. As if it’s that easy! Well, on occasions it is, but this guy didn’t get a second date. Take the hint pal.

He suggested meeting up again and I wasn’t too hesitant in saying no way, never, not on your life. I even told him he was too short for me and he didn’t take this as the insult it was intended to be. Ten out of ten for effort, nought out of ten for reading between the lines.

Blast from the past

I went on a date with a guy last year, just the once, and he randomly contacted me via MSN last night. This one date wasn’t horrible or uncomfortable, he just wasn’t the guy for me. And, as I had set myself the challenge to date at least one new guy per month in my quest to meet Mr Right ( a New Year’s resolution which proved sheer hell) I didn’t have time to waste on non hotties.

I met this guy, an Accountant, through the internet and he’d lied on his profile a bit. Ticking the “athletic build” box does not include being in possession of man boobs. A six pack, perhaps. Moobs? Certainly not. He was very tall, which I like, but Cupid’s arrow didn’t strike. Accountant was also a bit boring and kind of a know it all. Oh yeah, and he was a bit ginger. Am sure in his profile pic he was mousey.

Anyway, he contacted me via MSN, perhaps desperate to chat to someone online. And he chose me. So, we chatted. He spoke mostly of himself and it reminded me of one of the things I disliked when we were first MSN-ing last year – he never gives you time to reply before he’s writing his own comment. Hold fire boy, do you want an answer to your questions or not?

Last night he seemed to know more about the area I’ve just moved to (he lives two hours away) than I do, more about the taxi fares from my place into town and more about having to budget when you own your own house. He probably knows more about what’s in my wardrobe and how I like my hair cut as well. He also had to drop in the fact he works for a large firm, the pay is great and he doesn’t work long hours. I didn’t ask any of these questions and I felt he wasn’t engaging in conversation but merely talking at me. He also droned on about the terrible state of the economy, the impending recession and struggling to pay the bills. How very depressing. Pass me the rope. 

He mentioned he was house sitting for his parents in Leicester in a couple of weeks’ time, the city where we had our one and only date. Was he asking me to meet up with him? Well, I wasn’t biting. Our last text conversation involved him saying he’d enjoyed our date and to get in touch if I wanted round two. I text back saying “thanks, will do” and never got back to him. Why would he think I’d changed my mind after more than a year?

Even when I signed off stating it was time for hot chocolate and bed, he said he’d got “posh hot choc” and was going to do the same. Well, I can’t compete with that. He wins, he’s better than me. Knob.

A tall order?

I don’t think there’s any longevity in my relationship with Tall Guy but as he’s keen to meet up I’m not going to waste a chance to get my hands on him once more. His FB pix are seriously hot!

There are many downsides to seeing Tall Guy and the girls at work think I’m a bit of a cradle snatcher and laugh at my latest conquest. Am I too old to be smooching with cute university students after a cheesy post-tournament disco? Nah, I don’t think so.

So, the down sides are:

• He lives about three hours away
• He’s seven years my junior
• He’s a university student (plenty of young totty for him to be chasing there)
• He’s foreign

And the plus sides:

• He is 6ft 6ins of sheer hotness
• Very toned arms and stomach
• Cute baby face
• He plays volleyball, just like me
• His degree is in marketing, not too far away from my own profession
• He’s keen and says things like “sweet lips” and “taste so good”
• I’d be quite happy to be wrapped up in his long limbs for an evening

Tall men make me melt

At the top of my “must have” list when it comes to men is height. I will not date a short man, I absolutely refuse. I was disappointed to hear a few weeks back, courtesy of Trinny and Susannah, that the average height of a guy in the UK is 5ft 8ins. That’s one whole inch shorter than me. And believe me, inches are important.

Height is a “must have” for me, for several reasons. I do not want to be the bloke in a relationship and the traditionalist in me says men should be taller than their girflfriends, and preferably wider too. Do I want to roll over in the night and crush my boyf to death because I’m twice the size of him? Do I want my toes to be further down the bed than his? Do I want to bend down to kiss him? No, no, no! I want to feel protected by a big, tall guy; I want to look upwards to gaze into a man’s eyes and I want to stand on tip toes so I can kiss him. Tall men make me melt.

So, at the weekend-long sporting tournament/social event I attended up north I was distracted somewhat by a very tall guy. His baby face suggested he’d be a few years younger than me – seven to be precise; he is only 21 – but he was cute and tall to boot.

Our eyes met at the bar on Saturday night and the dribble down my chin probably indicated to him that I fancied him a little. No, scrap that – a lot! He asked me and my buddy if we were enjoying ourselves before he made his way to the dance floor. Our eyes met a few times after that but I didn’t think he’d make a move – men are often slow to react in these situations I find.

But, towards the end of the night our feet danced their way towards each other and we did a bit of grinding to some R&B number before I walked him back to his caravan. I should point out that he did have good manners and offered to escort me back to my tent but I thought, being the older and wiser, I should walk him home. It also put me in control of any “situation”.

Long gone are the days I can get pissed up, stumble home with a guy on my arm, fall into bed and wake up feeling shit and embarrassed. Hmm, apart from a few weeks back at my mate’s wedding that is (see this blog post). We all have our weak moments, and to be fair I was gagging for it at that point, but I’m defo getting too old for that kind of behaviour. But there’s nowt wrong with a snog and swapping numbers.

So, this tight chested 21-year-old is as sporty as I am and at 6ft 6ins tall I imagine he’s a lot better at volleyball than I am. He’s foreign (don’t usually go for foreigners, but his English was good and with that height he could have been Saddam Hussein for all I cared.) He had amazing arms and when he pulled me towards him for a round of kissing, it sent shivers down my spine.

Oh, I’ve still got it. I took his number (half thinking he may have given me the Flirt Divert number) and when I managed to tear myself away from his lips I text him as I walked home. He’d given me the right number, yay!

I didn’t see him during the next day’s sporting events – wind and rain aren’t a good combination for a seaside volleyball tourament - and as I was wearing a waterproof jacket with just my eyes poking out I don’t think he’d have recognised me anyway.

But, on returning home to hot showers and sand-free accommodation, we exchanged texts and he wants to see me again. He lives three hours away though, that’s the problem. I’m not sure anything will come of it but we’ll see. Not sure why a lithe young man like him would want to liaise with an old duffer like me when he can surely have his pick of the university chicks? Did I mention he was a student? Bless. And that he’s 6ft 6ins tall? Melt.

I don’t understand!

I don’t have a problem with a one night stand and never ever seeing or hearing from the guy again. Life goes on, shit happens. But I do have a problem with a guy asking for your phone number, engaging in text conversation for a couple of weeks, asking to see you again, requesting you be his Facebook friend - and then cancelling at the last minute and refusing to reply to your texts from then on in.

What’s that all about? If you don’t want to see me again don’t take my number. I text Chappy in the week to rearrange our cancelled date and he hasn’t replied. It’s not that I’m bothered but I what was the point of all that texting? I just don’t get it. When I crept out of his hotel room early one Sunday morning he had my number, I didn’t have his. He didn’t need to use it if he wasn’t interested.

This keeps happening to me lately. Why are boys happy to text but go no further? Waste. Of. Time.