Lately I have been pursuing the companionship of men via online dating sites in the hope that I meet someone a bit older, with a job, their own flat etc. In the gag reflex inducing sea of “cuddles on the sofa”, “red wine”, “a mean pasta”, “DVD’s” and “getting away for the weekend” I have found a few of the right kind of weirdos who may or may not be stabbers, but have least picked up the cheque.
One poor guy who actually works with a girl I know. I confided in her, she got drunk, told a colleague of theirs and the guy apparently got a ribbing at work about it. I wasn’t pleased. And quite embarrassing to be actually blocked from contacting this guy ever again… He must have been thrilled.
Another guy was very nice, told me he was looking forward to the next meeting because he had such a great time, wanted to meet my cat, big smiles, big kiss etc etc. Then what I call the malediction of the British – a text message a little while later saying “Cards on the table I felt no romance…” Ladies and gents, why not just say that to my face instead of acting otherwise? I really curse the British for the “nice to the face, grimace in the cuff.” You don’t know you do it and I fall for it every time.
Another guy is actually a transvestite, no date but funny chats. He’s great but too young for me and I’m not old enough to be a cougar yet.
At least I don’t feel totally invisible. But at the end of today, I just melted into the sofa watching Law and Order Criminal Intent with the super hot Jewish detective never wanting to step foot outside of my house again and happier in my $9.50 K-mart grey marle old man tracky dacks and a grey Chesty Bond vest.
I am going on a trip at the end of October to make good a dinner date promise I made to a guy I know there. I am going to stay with another guy, Johan, and his dog Nixon, to have some serious old friend conversations. I think I have known Johan for 8 years now. I love him. He was my witness at my wedding!
I’M SO EXCITED.
I had a bath a minute ago to soothe my aching back – I twisted it helping The Cardinal sand her floor yesterday. SUCH FUN!! Unbelievable!! I was lying there thinking about the maps, the piano, the snow… Dinner date will be fun! And then when Johan invited me to stay instead of recommending a hotel I did total cartwheels around my house. The BEST EVER.
What a result from a shitty day. Also, I have a card from the post office letting me know I have a package that was too big to deliver [EXCITING!] and I won all my auctions on eBay today [RIPPA!] I suppose that I had not been putting enough effort into fun stuff lately that wasn’t somehow mixed up with a situation that was making me very sad. And I have learnt a lesson in a quick decision to do something really spontaneous and frivolous.
Now I must go to bed and dream about happy things. Like this song Cesca post on her Facebook page which is brilliant.
So last night was the play date with XXCENSOREDXX. It was great, he made me cry and insulted me, I was late, told a ‘hilarious’ story about a guy who had something really cringeworthy happen him only to learn that a similar thing had happened to XXCENSOREDXX – all amongst other gaffs. I’m not joking. These things all really happened. But I had a really nice time. And honestly far better than I was expecting. There I was thinking it was going to be really awkward and weird, and it was definitely a little like that at time but the percentage of laughter was a lot more. I fully recommend a play date to anyone anyway. I even got one of those funny “not sure if I should” and me “being awkward back” peck on the cheek outside the most stinking chip shop on the corner of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road. I can only assume that XXCENSOREDXX also had a good time for that to have happened on the gankiest corner in the West End.
And you know what else – I KNOW THAT XXCENSOREDXX will read this. Which makes me feel a bit weird writing it. And even weirder that we made jokes about what I would write. YOU GET ME! Mega LOLZ. That was just for him. You are right – it’s tragic! But as you can see from photographic evidence you can see that I’m a true playa.
This is the reason why I was late. I was living it up in Wiltshire on a work related mission. I can’t divulge to much – trade secrets etc. There was a place there call Players Bar and Club Ice that was on the estate. Apparently all the Squaddies go there. We so wanted to go. Jo had her umbrella to reel them all in. Then we filthy looks in the quiet carriage on the way home to Paddington. Just to let you know – mean woman with the briefcase, we hated sitting next to you as much as you hated us. But let’s not make hate and bad vibes. And it is clear you are the one with the problem with the coloured markers you had all anal on your briefcase. When you got up to use your phone we so wanted to change the colours of all the lids on the pens cause we knew it would really fuck with your head.