The Hopelessness of Me

So, after finally growing some (thankfully not very hairy) balls & registering with a recruitment agency in London, in a bid to procure myself a proper grown-up job, I have to say I have been rather disappointed by their progress.  Firstly they left me a message the other day to say they had a role for me.  Then I call them to seek out further details.  I'm told the recruiter is with another candidate & she'll call me back.  Fine, except she doesn't.  I call her the next day about it & she's 'left the office due to personal reasons'.  I'm told she'll call me about it the next day.  It's been two days & I've heard nada!  What happened to professionalism?  Why am I having to do all the donkey work?  I mean, these guys get paid when I do, right?

Apparently the job they have on offer is as a Legal Clerk.  Sounds interesting.  Worth an interview at least.  Is it wrong that my main concern with a job prospect is what I'm allowed to wear?  I understand corporate, but honestly, some people's ideas of office dress code is still stuck in the 90's!  If I even glance at a square toed block heel shoe I'll be sick!  That's not even a joke.   I mean really!

I was hoping that all this job hunting would distract me from my looming singledom.  Unfortunately, it hasn't.  If anything, I feel more lonely than ever!  I think I miss being apart of something, y'know, like a relationship is a team effort.  Your partner ends up being your best friend.  I love my best friends, but I don't wanna have sexytime with them.  Eurgh.  I need someone good looking (obvs), funny (always important, you don't want a guy with a stick up his ass), well-dressed (poor attire is something I honestly cannot forgive) & most importantly honest.  Honesty is not only the best policy but it is imperative for a relationship to work.  The Ex was seemingly never honest.  I can't trust someone who isn't & we all know, that without trust, you got nothing!

Let's take dear 'Darren' (clearly not his real name, but he & many others will know exactly who I'm talking about) for instance.  So there I am having a gay ol' time at Benicàssim (still at this point thinking that the French Docteur was incroyable & therefore attempting not to get involved with anyone else) & I meet this guy at the bar.  Unfortunately, I was not feeling my hottest at this moment, nor my most sociable (okay, so maybe not having the gayest of times...), so I chat & then bounce quite abruptly.  The next day, looking & feeling better, I happen to bump into this guy again & this time we actually spend time conversing.

Ellie & I had to leave to go see a new DJ we'd found at one of the stages & this guy, 'Darren', follows us there, leaving his friends behind.  Ellie was not suitably drunk enough by this point, so objected to being a 'third wheel', which probably wasn't helped by my drunken cartwheels (I landed several times on the back of my neck & generally made an arse of myself).  'Darren' & I kiss & then Ellie & I have a big tear-fueled falling out about the fact that I have this 'great' guy back in France (obvs this is now laughable knowing what we now know).  After some time, all issues of third wheel are resolved & we all head over to the dance stage, where we bump into some menshape friends of Ellies.

'Darren' & I siddle off to the turf area (gotta love turf, haven't you?), which by the by had a cross shaped pool (I mean c'mon!).  We sat in that area until five in the morning telling each other our life stories & I was like, wow, this guy is so cool.  Then I of course do the woman thing, where I start to immediately fantasize about how great a boyfriend he'd be.  So pathetic, but I do it every time!  Anyway, we agree to meet up in Brick Lane when we both get back to the UK.  I would like to point out right now that he knew of the existence of the French Docteur.  Y'know why, 'cause I'm honest!  Nothing good ever came from dishonesty!

Obviously I was in France for my birthday & 'Darren' messaged me on Facebook & suggested meeting up when I got back.  I told him I expected funding to be low, so I wasn't sure when.  Then I got back to the UK & I did actually have some dollar to my name, so I did something I never do, I texted him.  I suggested dinner & told him I'd message him the next day to confirm possible dates.  Next day I text him to say 'dinner, next week sometime?'  No response.  FOUR DAYS LATER he bothers to message me back.  I was like, really!?  I don't know, am I overreacting here?  That's like nearly a week.

I decided not to respond.  Then he calls me a few days later, says he didn't message me back because he was busy renovating this new flat he's got.  We build a bridge, we get over it.  Date is arranged in Sevenoaks, because it is an equal distance from where he lives in London & where I am on the coast.  The day of the date arrives.  One hour before we are supposed to meet up, he calls me to say he's still in London & is like 'I dunno what to do'.  My first thought; 'well, what you're meant to do is, stick to the fucking plan asshole'.  I refrained.  In the end though, I honestly had to CONVINCE him to go on a date with me.  No word of a lie!  Alarm bells should have been ringing at this point.  Still I persevered & went to dinner with him.

The annoying & rather confusing thing was, he was really nice on the date.  Very funny.  Insisted on paying.  Still very cute looking.  I was a little nervous but at the same time unconvinced of a spark.  We both went our separate ways at the end of the night & he texted me to say how lovely it was to see me again.  Brownie points, natch.  I don't know whether I was just actually mildly uninterested or unintentionally playing it cool, but I seemed to never message him, unless it was a response to something he'd messaged me & even then it wasn't particularly flirty.

So the other week I'm in London for this interview.  I thought great, as I'm in London, I can easily see 'Darren' again.  I message him nearly a week before hand & tell him I'll be in town.  He was like, what are your plans.  I told him I have this interview at one & then I'm going to go see my Aussie friends afterwards in Brick Lane.  His first response?  'Oh, I won't be in Brick Lane on Friday, I'm gonna be the other side of town'.  Writing this doesn't really put across quite the way it was said, it was like, 'well, I don't want to hit up Brick Lane, so you can come to me' basically & I hadn't even asked nor expected him to!  But then it riled me that he wouldn't even consider crossing town for me.  It's a tube stop for Christ's sake!  Taxi at best.  That's when it hit me.  I was always going to have to do the running in this relationship.  So I ignored his text, had a great evening with the Aussies & went home.

'Darren' continued to call & text me, which was fine.  I responded, not necessarily favorably.  Then it came to Shakedown.  I'd invited him to it with no response (as usual).  He then texted me to see how it was going, said he wished he'd come.  In my drunken haze I messaged him back several hours later & told him to come to Audio for the after party.  At first he seemed quite tempted.  After several messages I simply ended it with 'now or never'.  He never came.  The next day he messaged me asking how I was & when could he see me.  I told him 'it was now or never, clearly you chose never'.  His response?  'Oh well, you win some you lose some.'  Jeez, that whole experience was so worth it, right?  I mean honestly.  What was the point!?  I don't get it.

So to summerise on what has been an exceptionally long post/rant, when I meet a guy I want him to be honest.  What is it exactly that you're after?  Do you like me enough to honestly make the effort or is this just foreplay for you?  'Cause I've broken hearts & had mine shredded in front of me before & I have become a little less open to life & 'seeing where the wind blows' kinda experiences.  If I'm gonna put myself out there I wanna know it's for someone who actually wants it.  Not some arse wipe who's just out to make me jump through hoops just to stroke his ego.  I have not got the time nor the inclination & if I'm honest, I hope dear 'Darren' reads this, if not to understand where he went so unequivocally wrong with me.  Like I said to him 'I like you, you like me, make it happen'.

To the murky depths I go!

I have been exceptionally sickly of late.  My nose has procured its own waterfall, which in any other location would be beautiful, however, it's actually just annoying & kinda gross.  All this temperature raising has lead to sheer laziness, mostly consisting of BBC iPlayer & my big cosy bed!  So, I do apologise if your literature has suffered in my absence!  One shall try one's best to improve the situation!

Now, I may be shouted at by many an individual over what I am about to declare, but I shall go forth & declare it anyway!  I have made the decision that, although a solid man shape packed year has gone by, I can no longer live without The Ex, I wish for him to be Mr Now!

I can't help it, I swear I can't!  Love is an irritating little habit that I simply can't kick, for however hard I try, the itch keeps returning, begging to be scratched.  I've tried blocking him on Facebook.  Deleting his number.  Erasing all of his emails.  But it's simply no good.  I cannot deny how I feel!

So, perhaps in my lunacy, I unblocked him on Facebook & sent him a message.  I didn't quite declare my undying love for him, but I did attempt, in my most non-stalkerish, nonchalant way, to make it clear that feelings were still lingering & my door was firmly open, should he wish to make a visitation, sometime, anytime, now in fact.

Obviously the main hurdle in this predicament is The Replacement.  She is beautiful, but, she kind of reminds me of a cream cake.  All sweetness & light, no real substance.  I've got depth (haven't I?), mainly brought on by my many annoying habits, issues & ailments, but still, surely I'm ever so slightly more exciting on some vague level...Perhaps.

Well, I've given my all, I've laid my cards on the table, said my peace.  If he so chooses to continue in his existence without me by his side, I shall simply have to accept this & move the hell on!  Possibly onto some hawt French men in gay Paris, or some built Americans on vacay in Italy (did I mention we may stop by at the end of our European exchange?).

There are plenty more fish in the sea, it's just annoying when you catch something decent & it slips through your fingers & back into the open water, never to be seen again.

C'est la vie mes amis, c'est la vie!

I don't fear change, I just dislike it!

After my dad died (just over a year ago), I made some unspoken promise to myself to change everything in my life, in some misguided attempt to deal with the things happening in my life at the time.

I broke up with The Ex (hence providing him with his current name), despite having been with him for two & a half years & proclaiming to both sets of in-laws that, yes, we were probably going to wed at some point (possibly when we'd both hit puberty...I mean maturity...).

I left my mère's side for the first time...ever(!), unfortunately abandoning Mr Piggles in the process (poor parenting skillz right there!) & went to live with my friend Charlotte, in her flat in the Wells.

I wasn't the best with the men shapes, going from one disaster to another, mainly caused due to my inability to let one thing finish before starting another.  I'm not gonna lie, patience was never my virtue!

I was working six days a week & never spent much time at home, as there was always something to do & someone to see.  I went out every weekend, either to the yocal or Brighton with Ellie.

But, in the end, nothing seemed to make me truly happy & once mère had moved down to the coast, I barely saw her!  When the cracks started to show, I felt more alone than ever.  So, in a bid to rescue myself, I, with the encouragement of mère, packed up my job, said goodbye to Charlotte & the Wells & trundled over to the seaside to be reunited with Mr Piggles, with the intention to save for some big French adventure!

When I look at the big picture, I can see it was the right decision & that I have improved my life.  I'm no longer working 24/7 & actually have time to do the things I love.  But giving up my social life has been the hardest thing.

Being so far away from my friends is really difficult & I'm not gonna lie, I'm frickin' lonely over here! [waving avidly]  I honestly don't think I've spent so much time at home before & I may start to go gaga (quite possibly whilst listening to Gaga)!  My social life has decreased from 5-6 nights a week, to 1-2 times a month.  Hooopflaminglar!

If I have a rant or post something odd, it may possibly because I have far too much time on my very bare hands!

I shall just have to take solace in my hole, which is becoming my sanctuary & the thought of a Nando's tomorrow.  Nothing beats a Nando's dag nab it!

What's that, another day off...Damn straight!

Too early for a Spring clean?

I have actually been making good on one of my resolutions, through daily, yes daily(!) exercise!  I have been accompanying the mère on Mr Piggle's daily walk into town & back (he likes the shops, true story).  I can almost feel my thighs shrinking as we speak!

I have even been making sure to make the most of my lunch hour (when I do actually go to work, a seemingly rare occurrence), by walking the 10 minutes to the local supermarche.  Although, I'm sure the pork pie (my current obsession, actually ama-ziiing with sweet chili dipping sauce!  Swear down!) & handful of Cadbury's caramel eggs are not assisting in the thigh shrinking.  Damn it!

I am aiming to be exceptionally productive this month (let's see if it can stretch to the year...pfft, who are we kidding), in fact, this very eve I shall be attempting to work out how to sell shizzle on eBay, so I can finally get rid of my (not gonna lie) pink wrought iron single bed & some ceiling lights that have been taking up room...well...everywhere!!!  Any takers please come forth with cash (for shoes) in hand.  Merci.

During a late night Facebook stalk peruse, I had the great displeasure of witnessing The Ex with The Replacement having a gay ol' New Year's Eve time with the in-laws out in New York.  Couldn't just go to London, no?  I'm not gonna lie, try & big myself up, there were tears.  Small hot ones.  However, after much rage I have come to the ultimate conclusion that, as I in no way would like to have The Ex back, it is time to get a grip & move the hell on!

Immediate blocking of the pair has been put into action, which has already made me feel slightly more content.  I want to be able to look him in the eye one day & say (possibly through gritted teeth), "I'm happy that you're happy" but only if I can be ten times happier than he'll ever be!  I think that's a fair compromise.

In between all of this hatin' on, I have actually managed to hit the shops for the first time in FOREVER!!!  Got me some bargains!  Wooop Wooop!!!  Topshop & I should never be parted really, bar chocolate, I might as well be on a Topshop IV drip in order to actually survive!

The clogs (not a great fan of that name really, reminds me of gnomes for some reason) were £10!!!  The other heels were £15 & the jersey was £12.99 (H&M, my bit on the side).  Can't deny it really!

Unfortunately, I'm actually really short on everything but shoes, so bar the top, I don't think I've really helped myself out here really...Hmmm...Meh, shopping is shopping.  There's nothing I like more in life than spending money, except spending other people's of course!

Now, let's hit up my bitch eBay & get me some more dollar to spend!!!  I got me some new cloth to buy!

What a conundrum...

I think that everyone should have at least one precious piece & I am thankful enough to have two!  Two beautiful Mulberry bags.  The first was a 21st gift & the second I purchased when I was twenty three.  Unfortunately, the statistics do seem to indicate I wont be getting another one until I'm twenty five...Hmmm...

I introduced The Ex to The Mulberry & he now owns a few pieces, along with a lot of Hugo Boss, which I also lovingly introduced him to.  Isn't it annoying when you put so much effort into people & then someone else benefits from the spoils.  I'm sure The Replacement thinks him rather debonair & the height of sophistication...If only she knew...(Bitter, me!? Non!)

Is it wrong that every suitor goes through a makeover in my mind beforehand?  Most probably, however, I think it's definitely something most woman do.  Or maybe I just tell myself this to put off the thought that perhaps I am just a little bit on the peculiar side.

I do think though, although one's dress sense is a direct reflection of one's personality, there is always room for tweaking, without completely killing off one's individuality!  A bad shoe here, a poor accessory choice there (when will men learn, rosary beads only look good on woman of the church!), it doesn't take much to put a woman off a man, believe me.

Men should accept woman's tweaking, they mean well & let's face it, when all's done & dusted, he'll move on to someone new & most likely hotter (a new wardrobe is a clear indication of a step up on the hot scale, surely!) & she'll move onto her new project.  Ah, we do love a project.

Perhaps the real question men should ask themselves is, if she's looking at me, is it 'cause I'm hot to trot, or simply in need of an image overhaul?

Honesty is the best policy!

Sometimes it can be difficult to know what to write, especially when you are torn between that which you wish to write & that which you think you should be writing about, i.e, what people will read.  But perhaps, in the same way in which you should dance like nobody's watching, you should write like nobody's reading.

So, I step forward into the honest light, in the hope that it will shine some clarity onto my current predicament.

Having spent seven months living independently, coming home is like falling into a bed of feathers.  It's comforting, but it's also dangerous (suffocation anyone?).  Being around mère instantly makes me fall into an inane sense of dependency upon her.  I can't even help it!  Unfortunately, due to this, I seem to be losing my sense of self.

Firstly, it was robbed by my incessant working life, having abandoned that, I am now handing it over for an easy life.  I feel I may be going round in circles here!

So perhaps, once the Christmas coma, which I believe is due to be enforced, is finally over & done, it will finally be time to focus my erratic mind on going forward & realising what it is I actually do want to do with my life/house/wardrobe!

I would like to hope that once these details have finally been smoothed to a botox injected complexion, I may actually be able to once again turn my attention to the men shaped flames that I know still exist...somewhere!  It would help if The Ex would bugger off dream stalking me!  I do not need the confusion of falling asleep to your face, thank you very much!

[yawn]  Now to get some (much needed) beauty sleep!

Bonne nuit!

After re-listening to one of her albums, I have come to the conclusion that I am still whole heartedly in love with Feist (real name Leslie Feist)!  I saw her with The Ex a year or two ago, at the Royal Albert Hall & she was amazing!

Her third album, The Reminder, is my favourite album of all time & Sorry is my tip top favourite song ever, especially with lyrics like "I'm sorry, two words I always think, after you've gone, when I realise I was acting all wrong.  So selfish, two words that could describe, oh actions of mine, when patience is in short supply".  It brings back some fond memories, as well as some bad, but is most definitely timeless & somewhat mesmerising.

I'm still waiting on her fourth album, however, she has yet to release it here in the UK (she's Canadian), which is a bummer.  May have to do some research into locating & purchasing it.  If you're thinking to yourself, 'I haven't a scooby doo who Feist is', I shall have to remind you of the Apple iPod Nano advert a few years back.

  Ringing any memories?