Archives for category: Date

I’m on my way to a date with the Frenchman. We’re going to an awesome new place in town, Bodos Schloss (same brains behind it as Mahiki). We have an arrangement that I pick the venues, and he picks up the bill (well, I’m unemployed right now!). Whilst I’m on my way, I’m texting my man. And I feel guilty.

Since reading The Rules, I promised myself I would keep dating until my man tells me it’s official… and he hasn’t yet. But it just feels wrong, as I can’t imagine how I would feel if I knew he was going on dates. Should I keep dating? Or focus on my man, break the Rules, and risk getting hurt?

My man came to see me in London this weekend. And we had fun. And we even drew our faces in the sand (not that it looks like us!)!

He told me that he liked me… We were lying on the floor in my bedroom (I don’t have a bed in there yet). We were fully clothed and I was lying on top of him (it was innocent!). He said that he liked me “quite a lot actually”. It just came to him. He seemed surprised! And I had that Liesl feeling! and i had butterflies. And i wanted to say me too! But I said nothing. Because I was scared that saying something would make me too available. Go against the Rules. Make me less appealing. So I kissed him.

But HE likes ME! Enough to tell me. YIPPEEEEEEE!

… And here I am on a date. Feeling guilty. Because I feel like he gave me something. He shared his feelings with me, and I strongly believe you shouldn’t abuse people when they are brave enough to open up to their emotions. Or risk losing someone because you’re trying to keep your guard up.

Should I tell him I’m dating other people? What good would that do? Provoke him into telling me we should make it official? Or push him away and make him think its acceptable to date (or sleep with) other girls? And surely by placing my guilt onto him, I’d just guilt-tripping him?

Or am I dating other people because I haven’t fallen for him hard enough?

Another day. Another complication. I wish these things were easy.

Either way, I’m hungry and I’m late. So my guilty mind will have to wait.

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Have you seen the film He’s Just Not That Into You? I don’t care how much of a film snob you are, that film is educational. Well, you know the story involving Anna (Scarlett Johansson), Ben (Bradley Cooper), and Conor (Kevin Connolly)? For those of you unfamiliar with the film, the story is very simple. Anna falls for a (married) man called Ben. Whenever she is not getting the attention she craves from Ben, she uses Conor, because she knows that he is crazy about her and is willing to fill her with compliments and assurances.

Why is this relevant? Because I am Anna (although I can only dream of being as beautiful as Scarlett Johansonn), and my man is Ben (although, thankfully, he’s not married). He is taking the phrase ‘playing it cool’ to a frustrating level, and I am becoming bored with the situation. I went against The Rules and messaged him saying I missed him (I said it in a cute kind of jokey way)… and he ignored it. I told him it was rude to ignore compliments and emotional sentiments, to which he told me he does not agree with returning compliments because then they wouldn’t seem genuine. But he never really gives them at all. All I know is that he’s messaging other girls and trying to provoke jealously by looking at the slutty TV Presenter’s twitter in front of me (see previous post Oh I do like to be bedside the Seaside… I Think). So knowing the Rules, and craving the attention of Ben, I now have my very own Conor. Apart from Conor isn’t only one man; Conor is the men that are trying to pursue me, and the men that want to take me on dates. So I suppose I should introduce you to the Conor’s of my life…

1. Museum Man. I went to University with him so have known him as a friend for a long time. We kissed a few times before I went on holiday and met my man. He is perfect on paper: Head boy at school, captain of rugby, rower, intelligent, extremely handsome. Perfect on paper often means boring in real life. And well, there isn’t much of a spark there. He text me a bit since my return from holiday, but I was fazing him out. However, last Saturday I decided to go on a day date with him. The problem is, he only ever wants to go to museums. Don’t get me wrong, I like museums, but they aren’t exactly the most fun places in the world. And when there is no spark, and you’re in a musuem… Well it’s certainly not my dream date. We will only ever be friends, which is fine with me.

2. Catchphrase Man. The long awaited Catchphrase Date! Saturday evening… yes, dear readers, that does mean I went on two dates in one day. Catchphrase man is definitely not my usual type. He’s a banker. But we have chatted in the past and we got on and so, in the words of Dr Pepper, what’s the worst that can happen? On Saturday evening he informed me a taxi would pick me up at 8pm. Mysterious. Good start. The taxi dropped me off at Piccadilly Circus where he was waiting, and he took me to Bobby’s Bar, which is, as described on the website, a luxury English and Russian menu […] in London’s most glamourous all-booth dining room. A little snooty for my liking, especially as he was wearing a velvet dinner jacket. Plus, he ordered me a vodka shot without asking me – I like confidence, but I do not like shots (especially for my first drink of the evening), and I don’t really like to drink alcohol. Bad start. After a drink, we moved onto the next part of the night, which turned out to be one of my favourite places, the Soho Theatre. We ended up watching an amazing comedy duo called New Art Club. I love comedy! Perhaps I had been too judgmental. After that, we went for some more drinks at Paramount Bar, which gives the most amazing panoramic views of London, and then we moved on for a quick dance at a tiny club called Bourne and Hollingsworth, before heading back to his to play the music game and chat until I got a taxi home at 5am. We got on very well. I (somewhat briefly and reluctantly) kissed him. But something just wasn’t there… Perhaps it’s because he’s quite camp. Perhaps because, on removing my boots I realised I was wearing my man’s socks, and found myself wishing I was with him. Perhaps it’s cause he was a little keen, and started looking up flights on Ryanair so we could go away on a spontaneous city break for a day. There’s not enough excitement. No challenge. No Liesl feeling. Perhaps we girls are very complicated, because if my man did something like that I would be over the moon…

3. Frenchman. Monday evening. Third date in three days. I have known the Frenchman for over 7 years now. He was my French tutor whilst I was in my final year at school and I was completely obsessed with him. He was 23 and a rugby player. We kissed (and a little more) the summer that I left school, but I didn’t want anything to happen and things fizzled out, but we have always kept in touch. He’s extremely good-looking, built like a rugby player, now works in finance, and is VERY confident. He does not believe in compliments (giving or receiving), and he doesn’t like the idea of sharing things as a couple (I believe he’s even told me he’d want seperate bedrooms in the future – something I find strange). But I know he wants me, and around him I am confident – he even thinks I am extremely detached and unemotional with men…. if only he knew! Anyway, that’s enough background. I suggested we go to my favourite vegan restaurant near my house 222. I was slightly apprehensive about inviting an ex-rugby player to a restaurant that doesn’t serve meat, but he is extremely open-minded to discovering new things; a trait I find extremely attractive. Dinner was great, conversation was great, so everything was great… until the end of the night when he went for a kiss on the lips and I went for a kiss on the cheeks. Love awkward goodbyes! He has been messaging me since asking to see me, and I am intruiged by him…

4. Model Man. I used to work with this guy as a model a few years ago. He always asked for my number and I always turned him down. It became a bit of a joke actually. He’s very good looking (although he’s blonde, which isn’t my type), but a bit arrogant. People either love him or hate him, but he’s nice deep, deep down. Anyway, he asked to take me on a date when I got back from holiday, but obviously I was committed (emotionally) to my man, so I declined. Now that my man is not giving me what I want (and presumably messaging other girls), I finally gave Model Man my number. He joked that persistance definitely pays off! Nothing to report yet as I have rejected all his requests for dinner / drinks / lunch because I have been too busy… and I’m just not that interested.

5. Comedi(m)an. Exactly as his name suggest. He’s a professional comedian and has been dubbed a rising star of comedy. I met him after his show at the Edinburgh Fringe last year, and have bumped into him after a few of his small gigs in London. You might think this makes me a groupie, but HE was the one to start tweeting ME and HE added ME on facebook. Technically he’s my groupie. Anyway, there is nothing in life I find more attractive than people who make me laugh, and being a comedian, he’s pretty good at that. He’s not the most stereotypically attractive man, but when has that ever bothered me? We’ve chatted a lot and he has invited me for drinks on Wednesday night. Watch this space.
So they are my Conor’s. Am I using them? No. I suppose if my man continues to play it cool, and message other people in my face, then I will move on. It’s boring. But it’s a shame. We get on so well. Maybe I should tell him how I feel? But that goes against the Rules. And why should I have to be the one? In the past I have been very upfront about my emotions to avoid any game playing, and I have chased men away because they get the impression I am too keen. Am I keen? I like my man, but at the same time I don’t like him enough to put my pride on the line or put up with his rubbish. He must know I like him, surely?

What is clear is that relationships are very complicated. It’s always the ones you aren’t interested in that act the way you want the one you are interested in to act.

I don’t like having multiple men on the scene. I don’t like leading men on and then dropping them. I feel bad going on a date with a man, and then not wanting anything more. I am a one-man girl. I like the butterflies. I like thinking my man is the best thing in the world. Why do the dating rules make that so complicated? Why can’t you just like one man, and make it clear that you like him without him losing interest? Surely if you aren’t really keen, and just matter of fact about your emotions then that’s a nice feeling? Or am I old fashioned?

So this is where things are, dear readers. Me, a less attractive Anna, wanting the unmarried Ben, and trying not to be crazy and moving forward with my life with the multiple Conor’s. I’m trying to remember all the wise lessons from the film, and not make excuses for his poor behaviour (lack of confidence, age, intimidation), and remind myself that perhaps he’s just not that into me.

I am so sorry readers, this post is long overdue. Why? Perhaps because I have been very busy. Or perhaps because I have been avoiding having to think about it all. I still don’t know what to think about it all. I am not sure why relationships have to be so complicated. I have no idea where this post will lead, or where to begin. So I suppose I’ll begin with the weekend to the seaside…

This time two weeks ago, my man came into London for physio, and I met him afterwards so that we could travel back to his home together. We had dinner by the river in London, then popped on a late train at Waterloo where I slept whilst listening to his terrible music with his amazing headphones. Two and a half hours later and we’re stepping into his house … and his parents are already in bed. Phew! Off the hook for another day, and I was way too tired to be polite.

The next morning as I got out of the shower, my man told me he would meet me downstairs and left his room. Don’t panic. You are perfectly capable to walk downstairs and walk into a kitchen with him and his parents in. Oh God. What if they don’t like me? I take extra care to make sure I look natural and radiant as possible and walk… very… slowly… down… the… stars… take a deep breath … and step into the kitchen and SMILE. “Morning!” “Mum by the way, she’s vegetarian!” says my man. I had asked him not to tell his parents I was vegetarian in case they had prepared any meat for the weekend (which it turns out they had… his mum was going to cook lasagne). His parents were lovely, and it actually wasn’t very scary at all. Phew! His mum even went shopping secretly and filled the fridge with vegetarian food, but packed it into the back of the fridge to make it seem like it was always there!

Over the weekend, my man and I went to the beach, walked for hours, pub lunched, went out for curry (he paid), met some of his friends, chilled out, had brunch with his friends (again, he paid) and it was nice. Nice – it’s not the most passionate word in the dictionary. I wasn’t floating, and I no longer felt like Liesl from The Sound of Music. But it was nice. Was it bad that I had stopped dreaming? I like that floating, girly, giggly feeling? What had changed? Perhaps the illusion of it all. I was in his house, with his lovely parents, and he was just a normal guy. He’d had it hair cut. Is that shallow? It probably is. But I just hate short hair. And all of a sudden he went from manly athlete to almost little boy (well he is younger than me). But he was nice, and I fancied him.

However, throughout the weekend I noticed him going onto twitter and facebook in front of me and clicking onto the TV presenter’s posts, and his ex-girlfriend’s posts, and all the messages from girls on facebook. Was he trying to provoke me? It was quite obvious he liked me, so why was he doing this in front of me? I suppose because he wanted the power? Wanted me to react (again)? Wanted assuarance of my affection? I really don’t know why. But I am aloof. And I won’t play into his games. And it made me feel like he was untrustworthy. Made me feel like I needed to play a game and be wary of him. My guard is up. Can’t men take Rhianna more literally and realise that girls need to feel like they really are the only girl in the world. Not one of many. And if you play the game with me, I will play it harder. And I like feeling like Liesl, and if I have my guard up, then I am not floating. So your games might mean you just lose me in the process…

the seaside :-)

I think I have now established we’re meeting at ten to eight (big Ben) at Eros?

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One of these is the where…one of these is the when…

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The first text has come in and I’m clueless…

“Listen to own advice…”

?!

The Rules state you should date other guys until you are certain about who you want. Well, actually, the book says you should continue to date until there’s a ring on your finger, but I’m not that desperate for marriage, and would like to practice fidelity if I felt serious enough about the man.

2 weeks ago, I gave my number to a man. I bump into him at work a lot, and we’ve had chit-chat for the last few months. On bumping to him a fortnight ago, he said he had an invitation for me to go to an event he thought I’d like, then asked for my number. Why not, I thought. Only I didn’t hear from him.

On Monday, I received a Facebook message from him letting me know he had lost his phone that very evening, and it had taken him this long to find me. He still had an event to take me to and asked if I’d give him my number (again). I replied (on Tuesday, I’m busy and unattainable of course), with my number and told him I wouldn’t give it to him a 3rd time.

A few hours later, I received a text telling me not to lose this number. Of course I knew it was from him, I rarely give my number out, but the rules state you must act like you are desirable and being pursued by lots of men, so I asked him to clarify whose number it was that I must guard so closely.

Then last night, I received a phone call from him. I like it when men call. It shows confidence, and it takes away the awkwardness, toneless texting game. He asked how many guys I give my number out to that I didn’t know it was him. (Blush).

Anyway, he asked if I was free on Saturday 13th October (booking in advance is a great sign according to the rules). He told me it was a surprise. I like surprises.

He asked if I had ever seen Catchphrase. Do you remember the 90’s TV Show presented by Roy Walker in which contestants would have to identify a familiar phrase by a piece of animation accompanied by background music? Well, he explained that over the next couple of weeks he would send me sporadic Catchphrase-style clues about what we’d be doing. If I guess it right before the day, he’ll get me a present.

How exciting! And also how very clever. This now means he has successfully ensured our date will be on my mind from now until it happens. Very clever indeed.

But obviously I’m now a rules girl and would never giveaway excitement. I’m aloof, busy, and unattainable. So I said I looked forward to it but had to go, and I ended the call.

I’m already excitedly awaiting the first Catchphrase Clue. And of course I’ll share them all with you, dear readers. In the words of the Hunger Games let the games begin!

Have you seen the Sound of Music? You know the scene when the eldest daughter, Liesl, sneaks out into the night to meet Rolf and is so overcome with happiness she spins round and round laughing in the pouring rain? Well, right now I am Liesl von Trapp, apart from I’m not 16 going on 17 (and luckily my man is not a Nazi).

Did I actually spin around in the pouring rain? Of course not. I think I would have scared him away. The one great thing about age and experience, is that it makes you cool and collected… on the outside at least. I suppose girls never truly age when it comes to matters of the heart!

So let me tell you about my day at the seaside in the pouring rain… Wake up naturally at 7:56am. Check train times (9:12am), check weather (wet and cold). Get out of bed at exactly 8:36am feeling calm, and excited, and slightly apprehensive that I only have about half an hour to get my train. What do I wear for our date out of London? I’m thinking warm, comfortable, slightly rural, but cute. Abercrombie & Fitch skinny jeans, Ralph Lauren beige top, Nine West black leather flat biker boots, Abercrombie & Fitch burgundy lamb wool fleece, Barbour beige quilted jacket and green checked scarf. Make up? Natural. A bit of Mac Solar Riche bronzing powder, Mac shimmer blush (nice pink cheeks), some Benefit the’re Real! Mascara, and Vaseline aloe vera lip balm. Hair? Long, down, and a bit messy (well it’s going to be windy). And I’m out of the house by 8:56am and walking at a slightly rushed pace to the station.
Oh sh*t! I forgot my Young Person’s Railcard but there’s no time to go back. So my journey is £19:50 more expensive, but I don’t care.

10 minutes to spare in my changeover station, so I pop to Caffe Nero and grab a skinny chai latte and some porridge with soy milk and berry compote, and I’m off out of London on a 2 hour train ride!

During the journey I think again about how nice it is that I am not worrying about his opinion of me or what he thinks. I do momentarily worry that he will stand me up, and then I remind myself that I’m being silly. I suppose I am slightly apprehensive though… Because what if I don’t like him? And then I smile at the change in my perspective.
Then comes the first big decision to make… Where do we meet? He’s just had a serious operation so is unable to drive and living at home (his parents’ home) whilst recovering. He can pick me up from the station, but his mum would have to drive us (*is he cool with me meeting his mum? or does he feel obliged to offer?* … Stop over thinking things!). Or I walk 20 minutes into the city centre… In the rain. I worry that meeting parents goes against our agreement to take it easy and not be intense. So I… Take a taxi. You can take a girl out of London, but you can’t take London out of the girl! :)

What do you do in a seaside town when there are strong winds and heavy rain (obviously going back to his home is an option I quickly rule out)? You apparently get dressed head to toe in water proof clothing and embrace it. He brought a whole bag of waterproofs and warm clothes in case I wasn’t prepared for the weather (aww). I have fun trying on his waterproof trousers, but they don’t fit… so I settle for a wooly hat, and an oversized waterproof coat… well there goes my attempt to look cute, thank god I didn’t spend long planning my outfit! And I like being dressed a little bit dorky, it makes me all giggly.
And we go out onto the pier. And we laugh. And we walk along the beach. And he catches me when I nearly get blown away in the wind (Damzel in distress!). And we kiss but our faces our so wet that our faces slide off each other. And we giggle. And we clash teeth. And we laugh. And we go for food. And he pays (which means more when your man is poor and unemployed). And we take turns drying our jeans in the bathroom with the hand dryers. And we walk through the town. And we drink hot chocolate. And he gets whipped cream on his nose. And I giggle. And he wipes it over my face. And we laugh. And we go into the woods and have a woodland walk. And we sit on a waterproof (he picks a spot with a nice view). And we kiss. And I stop myself from singing love songs in my head. And we kiss. And we get wet. And we don’t care. And we kiss (*man, I wish we had a bedroom!*). And a squirrel comes right up to us, and I compare myself to Snow White, and then I remind myself to get a grip and stop turning my life into a Disney love story! And then finally, when we are so cold and wet we can’t kiss anymore, he decides that I can’t get the train back to London damp. So his mum comes to pick us up. And we go to his house. And we meet his brother. But I don’t care. Because I’m not freaking out, and I’m not over thinking anything, and it feels nice. And I have a cup of tea, and put my boots by the fire, and see his room. And I get in his shower. And… Oh hello, you’ve joined me in the shower ;) (a lady never tells remember) … And about an hour later and I’m back on the train to London.

And I’m not stressing. And I’m not worried that it’s intense. And I love that we laughed and had fun despite the miserable weather. And I have butterflies. And I’m smiling. And I giggled like a little girl all day. And I’m trying to snap myself back into reality… but I’m comparing myself to Liesl in the Sound of Music. Well I did warn you I was a hopeless romantic!

How do I feel? I just feel… And. Because and is a word that needs something to follow it. And who knows, maybe something will. Or maybe it won’t. But that’s also fine, because everything happens for a reason, and at least I don’t have Sunday blues. :)