tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36216597207732563552024-02-20T09:25:07.746+00:00Gal and the CityAn insight into the dating exploits of a twentysomething femaleRiccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-32205314056448651632012-06-19T10:51:00.001+01:002012-06-19T10:51:49.009+01:00Epilogue: The one where Mark proposedHello!!!!!!!!!<br />
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It’s been about 2 and a half years since the last update and what has happened since then?<br />
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WELL.<br />
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A period of change for everybody really; Kat, Katie and Soph have got married. Jane, Sarah and Rach have had babies, Alison has bought a mansion, my parents have retired and me; well that’s a story. I’m now the proud owner of a Swarovski ring which represents a proposal only and not an engagement. Apparently.<br />
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So how exactly did this happen, I hear you ask?<br />
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Well get yourself a coffee, set your phone onto divert and have a read of the story below.<br />
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As the cohabiting amongst you know, there comes a point in every relationship where people start to ask “So, when are you two going to get married”? <br />
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For Mark and I, I suppose this point came when we decided to go to Dubai for Christmas. I think we all thought (myself included) that something sparkly could happen,but nobody was very sure. Despite the flurry of excitement bestowed upon me by various friends and relatives, I was sure that nothing would happen as I’d said to Mark that he would need to ask my father for his permission before any sort of proposal could take place. Given my father is married to my mother (who is worse at keeping secrets than me), I knew that if a proposal was within sniffing distance then the news would somehow trickle through and I would get wind of it. As you know I’m scared of surprises, so I was pretty convinced there wasn’t going to be one.<br />
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Sure enough that holiday came and went safely and we returned back to the UK the same way we went – if not a little lighter after the freak vomiting bug that had taken hold of us for 80% of the holiday.<br />
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The questions didn’t stop though, so Mark thought the best way to put people off the scent was to put in for a transfer to Angola. Yes, that’s in Africa. Miles away.<br />
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For those of you who don’t know, this involves him spending 4 weeks working away and then he comes home for 4 weeks holiday. This month due to social commitments he was allowed to extend his leave to 6 weeks during which he has fitted in 3 weddings, organised a stag do, built a shed (not), and of course our annual Neilson trip to Greece.<br />
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Now we’ve actually been to Sivota before and we love it there. Healthy food, runs, biking, fitness classes, tennis and all the watersports you can imagine. It’s our idea of holiday heaven. So I thought nothing when on day 3, Mark suggested that we take a double kayak out and go explore the coastline. It was a beautiful day, so he also suggested we made an afternoon of it which meant stealing items from the lunch buffet to snack on later. I thought this was a tad excessive but put it to one side.<br />
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Once we had made our packup we got on the kayak and rowed away from the hotel. Greece has some lovely bays and there are plenty of little random rocks and caves strewn about surrounded with proper lovely turquoise water and pretty little beachy bits everywhere.<br />
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We noticed a cove not too far away and rocked up to set up camp. As soon as we’d a fashioned a beer fridge out of a plastic bag, some string round a rock and a mini rockpool we were able to relax. I was just minding my own business when Mark starts with “Georrrrrrge. I have a confession to make”<br />
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Now I thought it would be something along the lines of him stealing cake from the dessert table, or nicking some ice from the bar but I was wrong. Very wrong.<br />
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The confession turned out to be a short tale about him not really going to see fat Dan last week but going to see my father instead. For the purpose of brevity I will summise the story in list form below.<br />
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1. He called my father on his mobile and arranged to meet him one night after work<br />
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2. He put his suit on and drove to Barnsley (where my dad was doing some on call work)<br />
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3. My dad welcomes Mark into what can only be described as student doctors digs and offers him a bag of Doritos (a grab bag)<br />
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4. 15 minutes later, my dad remembers that he also has some dip and offers this to Mark ( who has by now finished his Doritos)<br />
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5. They chat about the weather.<br />
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6. My dad then decides that he should cook for Mark as it is now too late to go out for dinner<br />
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7. Mark is subjected to a meal of microwaveable rice, chicken strips and sweet chilli sauce (this is gourmet cooking for my Dad).<br />
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8. Mark cuts to the chase and tells my dad how fabulous I am (probably) and asks for my hand in marriage.<br />
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9. My dad says 2 things<br />
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a. “We haven’t had an engineer in the family before. Now we have one”<br />
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b. “My aunt married a white man, so we already have white people in our family. So don’t worry about that. You are very welcome here”<br />
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10. My dad walks Mark back to his car and comments that at some point in the future the mx5 will be thought of a classic car. They shake hands and the deal is done.<br />
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I digress<br />
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Back to the beach. So Mark is telling me this and I’m thinking what is he going on about? Is this a story with a normal ending? I kid you not, it didn’t cross my mind for a second that he was about to propose.<br />
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Then he finishes his story and goes “close your eyes for a minute” At this point, I twig and emit some sort of squeal. When I finally opened my eyes, he was there on one knee (the non-gammy one), with the blingiest ring ever and that dashing smile of his. Then he pops the question and the following conversation goes something like this:<br />
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G: “Oh my god, what do you mean? Oh I don’t think I can look at you<br />
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M: “Yes you can, come on?”<br />
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G: “But I don’t understand? Is this for real?”<br />
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M: “Of course it’s for real, why wouldn’t it be?” <br />
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G: “This is too much information to process.” (It really was, I was temporarily confused)<br />
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M: “You know you haven’t said yes yet”<br />
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G: “Oh no, sorry I mean yes. Of course.”<br />
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We hug it out.<br />
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I would say that the shock factor took at least 3 hours to wear off. As a result I was very quiet; almost pensive for the remainder of the afternoon. And I have no idea why. Absolutely no idea. I think Mark was upset initially because I wasn’t jumping up and down and doing cartwheels. Chrissie made up for it though. When I rang her she screamed down the phone for at least 30 seconds and then asked how I would have my hair. <br />
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Nonetheless it’s been almost a week now and I’ve got used to the idea. I’m MOST happy. <br />
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I seem to be entering a world of themes, colours, flowers, music, venues and a whole host of other things which are mainly alien to me. Mark can’t understand why I won’t consider Goodison Park as a venue, but as a compromise I have said that blue can have a prominent role in the colour scheme of the wedding.<br />
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The fellow Brays and Welshes are of course over the moon and my mother has probably already started planning her outfit complete with shoes and hat. My father said he was very proud of me, which put a tear in my eye, and aside from seeing Mark at the altar, the main thing I cannot wait for is to hear my Dad make a speech. I’m sure he will do a brilliant job and that’s one thing I’m really looking forward to.<br />
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So that’s the story, 2 and a half years after we met. I thought that writing another episode to conclude the series would be an appropriate tribute. I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading these episodes as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. I can say with a bit of confidence that this will definitely be the final one.<br />
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Laters xx<br />
<br />Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-33050557211809612722010-01-04T20:55:00.001+00:002010-01-04T21:01:41.326+00:00Episode 17: The one which is in the hands of the gods<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Man: Mark</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Age: 30</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Description: Good face, Good body</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Venue: Sandanista/Sky Bar<br />
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I'm not sure why I'm writing this one, it feels a tad premature, but i'm just sitting at my laptop and letting my fingers do the talking. </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm not superstitious by any means but I do believe quite strongly in karma and fate. When good things happen, people put it down to fate, and the fact that everything is meant to be. They're all true believers. But when bad things happen, people are often too quick to believe that the universe is shitting on them and their life will be crap forever more. They refuse to see that it is fate's way of preparing them for something better.</span><br />
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It's exactly 2 years to the day that Christopher and I decided throw in the towel on our relationship. And whilst 2008 was a truly terrible year for me, it made me want to make up for it in 2009. If you had told me last January that within the next year I would get a new job, go round Thailand my own, record a piano piece for Radio 3, run a half marathon, go to NY for my birthday, become a celebrity in Eastern Europe, and buy a new car, I would have laughed in your face. And that's just a summary of some of the stuff I did last year. It sounds preposterous looking back on it. But I think all of it was fate's way of showing me that I am capable, and that splitting up with Christopher was necessary in order for me to start doing more things with my life. And when I'm a little bit older, I'll look back fondly on 2009 with a warm smile. </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> So next time you think that the world is against you, see it as an opportunity for you to change the course of your life. You might just surprise yourself :)<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Ok philosophical lecture over.</span><br />
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But from a karma perspective I have been on A LOT of shit dates with A LOT of shit men. But each episode that I have written (and it has been the best therapy) has taught me something new about men and what I expect from them. So I am happy to report that I have earned myself some serious karma points through doing this and now the universe is playing ball and has sent a lovely man my way.<br />
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Now I'm not one of those girls who gushes about boys all the time. The most you'll get from me is "he's nice". None of this 'oh I think he's The One' nonsense. I don't tend to talk at length about men that I like. But I do have to say that this boy (Mark) is lovely. Quite lovely.<br />
He happens to be from Rainhill which is spitting distance from Widnes. So he sounds like Christopher. But a lot more Scouse. And I have a soft spot for any man with a Scouse accent so I don't really mind.<br />
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I sourced him from Are You Interested, a facebook application where you click yes, no, or maybe on people's profile pictures. I can't remember who clicked yes on who first, but we became facebook friends maybe about 3 weeks ago and have been exchanging emails and things. Obviously he is on a limited profile. I can't have him reading my constant status updates.<br />
So anyway, we've had two really lovely dates so far. The first date we went to Sandanista (his choice) and just had a couple of beers and a natter. Last Sunday night we went to the Sky Bar (his choice) for a few cocktails and more of a natter. I should add here that he absolutely loves cocktails (his words) and can drink out of a Martini glass without wondering if he looks gay. And he runs!<br />
So I'm thinking he's a pretty nice guy so far, we seem to have a lot in common. And he likes watching The Gadget Show!<br />
And he turned up on time, wasn't stingy with drinks, didn't try to stick his tongue down my throat, and pretty much didn't do anything that made me think Eugh. And he even got me to admit that Nandos isn't that bad a restaurant!<br />
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It's very early days and there is obviously a massive chance that he could go off me, so I'm not getting too excited. But I am. A little. Secretly. We're going out for dinner on Friday, so I might know more then. <br />
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The only fly in the ointment though is that he is an engineer of some description, and he is going to Brazil for 3 months in April. So I hope i'm not just filling in time between now and then because I'd be massively offended if that's the case. Even if it doesn't work out though, it's still nice to know that there are still eligible men out there. I was beginning to wonder you see.<br />
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Do you know what, I actually don't want to write any more about him - which must mean that I quite like him. Eeek!<br />
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This has been the shortest George and the City ever. I hope it's the last one for a while.....<br />
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xx<br />
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</div>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-79385176832289395332009-11-17T23:00:00.003+00:002009-11-17T23:53:06.928+00:00Episode 16: The one that I'm not too sure aboutHello!<br /><br />Just so you know, this one isn't very funny because I'm in a bad mood. But I shall try to make it light hearted.<br /><br />I'm slowly beginning to realise that despite one's best efforts, you cannot make a fire from a wet lettuce and a match. No matter how much girl guiding experience you throw at it.<br /><br />I generally know when to call time on a man. I do it when they start to behave like fools. Sometimes this can be after 5 minutes, other times it can be after 5 weeks. Most times it's after they've offered to buy me fried chicken.<br /><br />But as the months pass by, I have tried in vain to be less dismissive and critical of such foolish behaviour because those first few dates can be nervewracking. And who am I to automatically dismiss them just incase they accidentally make a poor first impression?<br /><br />I'm aware that people's perceptions of me after meeting me for the first time are vastly different from their opinion of me after they've known me for about six months.<br /><br />But some things you just cannot change. No matter how nice they eventually seem, how rich (or generally poor) they are, if they don’t excite you on the first date, it’s massively likely that they are never going to excite you.<br />I know sparks can be created by a bonding over common things - I'll automatically fancy any guy who can play the piano - or pretty much any musical instrument.<br />I'll also automatically fancy any guy who can make me laugh by being his natural self and not telling shit jokes.<br />And I know it takes time to get to know people etc, but I figure that if you are still none the wiser after two dates, then you should probably get rid.<br /><br />The current man in question is Nathan. SpeedDating Nathan.<br /><br />I Really don't think I'm picky. But I'm contemplating kicking Nathan to the kerb. Reason being that there is no spark whatsoever. I’ve had two very boring dates with him and have decided that even though he is very good on paper, and somebody who my mother will love, there is no chemistry between either of us and no potential sparks at all. At all.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong, he’s a lovely chap. But spending time with him is like rubbernecking a fatal car crash on the motorway. You know it’s gonna be bad, but you go and have a look anyway just to see. And it’s ten times worse than you expected.<br /><br />Unfortunately poor Nathan bored me to tears on the first date - conversation was generally about his ability to tell me the capital city of any country in the world. And he didn’t get this knowledge from travelling. Oh no, he just really likes looking at maps. He also told me about the time he put £13 in the coinstar machine and only got back £11.86. Then he questioned me on my attitudes towards coinstar machines and whether I thought that 8% commision was too high considering that the machine doesn’t actually do that much. Not to mention him turning up 20 minutes late, and ringing me to tell me to get him a Stella as opposed to apologising for running late.<br /><br />I put this whole shocking experience down to nerves (his), and foolishly went out with him again.<br /><br />The second time (cinema and drinks) started off well. Mainly because we were both watching the film (Harry Brown). Then afterwards he suggested that we went for a cup of tea. Yes tea. I agreed and followed him into Frankie and Benny’s where he tried to explain to the waiter that although we wanted a booth, we would only be ordering two cups of tea. I let him die for about ten seconds and then gingerly suggested we drive up to Trio and have a proper drink. Which we did.<br /><br />We chatted about his colourful past - he used to be in a boyband (he soooo has the hair for it), he was an extra in emmerdale & heartbeat and spent 5 years in London trying to 'make it' as a superstar. Which made me think that deep underneath his soulless exterior there lay a pretty normal bloke. I tried in vain for 2 hours to get him to open up but the most I got was his description of a typical day at his work.<br /><br />" I get in at 8.10. At 8.15 I probably go and make a cup of tea. Unless of course I get in the office and realise that somebody is about to make one. Then I ask them, but otherwise I'll just make one for myself. Then by that time it's about 8.20, so I sit down and go through my emails. Then at about 8.30………”<br /><br />I just don’t know what to do. He’s nice. I’m sure he is. But he bores me. He actually bores me. Properly bores me. I listen to him talking and I’m thinking ‘Surely he can’t think that this is good conversation’. But I think he does. Maybe we’re just a little too different.<br /><br />Nonetheless I've agreed to go on one more date with him on the proviso that we get drunk. If he opens up after a few bevvies and we have a laugh, then I’ll know that he was just nervous all the other times and I’ll give him another chance.<br /><br />If however he remains the same, then I know it’s not meant to be.<br /><br />I think 3 dates is enough to work out whether you like someone isn’t it?<br /><br /><br />Anyway, since it’s nearly Christmas and most of you are going to be doing couply things, please spare a thought for your single friends and how they may be spending the festive period. Should you feel the need to break from your cosy cocoon, then give me a ring and invite me out on the town. I almost feel ashamed that I’m technically touting for business but winter is a lonely time, and I would relish the opportunity to go out for a boogie. You don’t have to be my wing(wo)man or anything, and who knows, you could even feature in a future episode.<br /><br /><br />I’m pretty confident that somewhere there is a nice man who will quite like the look of me when he meets me. And he’ll be normal and not have any social problems. And he’ll let me go to bed after 10.30pm and also let me eat cake whenever I want.<br /><br />But until I find him, I shall continue to fill your inboxes with humourous anecdotes about my experiences with the freaks that run amongst us.<br /><br />Until next time…….Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-77823344871670182432009-10-29T22:41:00.004+00:002009-10-29T22:49:39.268+00:00Episode 15: The one which could spawn many<span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">So the summer months have drawn to a close and gone are the possibilities of spending warm evenings on impromptu after work dates with handsome single men.</span></span> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">The days are getting shorter, and soon everybody will be having cosy nights in front of X factor instead of going out on the town. This is not good. Especially for me – a well established singleton.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">I happen to believe that a fool is somebody who does the same thing over and over again in the hope for a different result. So rather than rejoin match.com which I know you all frown upon, I've decided to utilise an alternative method for snaring my next victim. SpeedDating.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">I think the jury is still out on speed dating. The married and longterm amongst you think it must be so exciting and fun to meet so many eligible men in one single evening. The singles amongst you have a slightly more negative take - more of a disbelief in the fact that you are basically being pimped out to loads of guys over which you have no control.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">But like I say, nothing ventured nothing gained, so this how I found myself sat amongst a mixture of 21 – 35 year old single men on Wednesday evening.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Ironically I arrived bang on 7.30 which was my first mistake. My second mistake was to go on my own - especially when I found out that the game wasn't scheduled to start until 8.15. Oh the joy of trying to look cool for 45 minutes on your own in front of a load of men who are watching you, and a load of girls who are unusually suspicious. Fortunately two women took pity on me after about 20 minutes and invited me to join them for a natter.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">And then it started. I'm not going detail it man by man (there were 22 of them) but essentially I spent 3 (sometimes painful) minutes in the company of each man before the whistle went and the next man came along. We had a ten minute comfort break after every 7 meetings and then optional mingling at the end. We were given a checksheet and at the end of each meeting, you had to write either Yes or No and a brief description of the guy beside his name to aid your memory. At the end of the night, you handed in your checksheet and at some point next week, I will find out whether guys that I have ticked have ticked me back. Simples :)</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">What surprised me was how normal and comfortable it was. At the end of the day, we were all there for the same reason, so you could blatantly tell who was flirting and who was just chatting politely. And most of the guys were average looking - mainly 6's,7's, a couple of 8's. There were guys like me - who were quite sociable, and then there were guys who had blatantly never spoken to girls ever before in a social context. But I was nice to everyone, I smiled encouragingly at some really really bad conversations and tried to sound interested in what they had to say.....</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">One guy started with ' I went on a speed dating night last week and it was full of older women who wanted to get married and have babies. I don't want any of that'. I burst out laughing and he looked positively shocked. He also a really strange stare. This prompted me to remove my name badge from my chest and stick it on my purse.<br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">One guy gave me a short lecture on the benefits of living in Selby, and how it was interesting that I came from Darlington because he used to live in Bedale and did I know that postcodes in Bedale start with DL even though it's in Yorkshire, and also Northallerton postcodes started with DL too? Granted he was a delivery driver so he probably knew a lot about postcodes. I didn't dare tell him about my direct mail background - we would have been there for weeks!</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Another guy sat down and went 'Georgina? Let me tell you about me. And then talked at me for 3 minutes. Non stop. Mainly about how he was a professional poker player and had been for 8 months. I wasn't even allowed to ask about it because he went straight onto why he wanted to do a TEFL course and go live in South America. Given that i interrupt a lot, I hardly got a word in at all.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Ben from Horsforth seemed lovely and I think he was just passing the time before he got to girl number 2 (Diana Vickers lookalike but with better hair). Then when I mentioned that I'd done the great north run, it was like a lightbulb went off in his brain. He got proper excited and didn't want to leave. So I decided to tick him</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">There was another guy who I blatantly had no interest in talking to until he said that he played the piano. Then I changed my tune (ha ha). But yeah he was quite boring otherwise so no tick for him.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Nathan (no 9) seemed the most promising. Aged 30, he lived in Farsley, drove some sort of mazda and worked in finance. We discussed work briefly but then just started chatting about anything and nothing. I don't actually remember because I was trying to work out if I fancied him or not. 3 minutes is not that long. Nonetheless he got a tick and hopefully I might see him again.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">I did actually. He was the only guy that approached me during the 'optional mingling' afterwards. We had quite a nice chat but then my 2 friends from before came and sabotaged the operation and started talking to him about cars and football.<br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">I'd say that I had a rather enjoyable evening. It isn't scary because it's very non threatening. Obviously there are people that you avoid like a barge pole, and others that you hope might notice you. You get to talk to everybody so there isn't that sense of missed opportunity.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">The only worrying thing about it all is that I'm probably only a very small step away from going to a full blown singles party – which is essentially 300 confirmed single people in a room with a load of booze and optional party games – one of which is a rather phallic sounding game called 'Lock and Key'.<br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">If you hear as much as a whimper from me about wanting to go to one of these functions, please hit me as hard as you can and keep hitting me until I surrender.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Until next time my dears</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"><span style="font-size:85%;">PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP (the sound of a whistle)</span></span></p>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-24861844664109821302009-09-10T22:29:00.000+01:002009-09-10T22:31:36.666+01:00Episode 14: The one which is slightly controversial<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { size: 21cm 29.7cm; margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </style> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't know why I'm convinced this one is controversial. I think it's because i've been seeing quite a bit of Anthony, so technically I shouldn't be cruising for other guys - for want of a better phrase. But it seems that I'm suffering from FOMO (fear of missing out), which will from now on be my excuse for absolutely everything.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">So last weekend I went to Hungary for a works do. Yes you read that right. 30 of us from the UK office went to Budapest for the weekend all expenses paid, to take part in the annual company international football tournament. Obviously I didn't play any of this football; I went as a dedicated supporter. Nonetheless I still had a great time meeting all the other people who work in the markets, and putting faces to the people that I email. </span></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">There are 7 markets in total - Hungary, Poland, Romania, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Mexico and the UK. All in all I think there must have been close to 500 of us on the day. And the sun was shining and everybody was in good spirts. </span></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Halfway through the afternoon, I went to queue for a hotdog and this Mexican guy came up to me and asked to take my photo. I thought nothing of it, and posed and smiled. Then 2 minutes later, this Polish guy asked to take my photo. I thought he was being a bit pervy so I said only if we could get somebody from each market in the photo. So I grabbed the nearest Slovakian and Romanian people but he got annoyed with me because he only wanted pictures of foreign girls. I thought it was a bit weird and left it at that.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Then later on in the afternoon, I was sat in another part of the stadium and the Hungarian cheerleaders came up to me and asked if they could have a photo. At this point I began to suspect it must be a black thing (don't shout at me, I have a built in knack for this), but thought nothing of it, and just smiled and struck a pose.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Then on my way back to the bus, a bunch of Romanians ran up to me and were like 'Hi, how are you' and started chatting away. One of them happened to be a rather dashing young chap called David who had the most perfectly shaped eyebrows that I have ever seen on a man. I made a mental note to find him later, and got back on the bus to the hotel.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The evening's entertainment was a boat trip up and down the Danube and then a party boat disco. Random people kept stopping me to say hello everywhere I went which sounds hard to believe, but it really did happen. Our Hungarian host actually confirmed to me later on that it was because I had dark skin but she was like - don't be offended, they are not being rude, they are just curious!.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Great.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Midway through the evening I caught up with David. I don't remember how, but we ended up chatting together for pretty much the whole night. And I was genuinely amazed at his standard of English, especially when he told me he'd learnt mostly from films like Pulp Fiction and Swordfish. We discovered a mutual love for house music, quentin tarantino films and trips to Italy and then had a bit of a boogie on the dance floor.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The party finished up at about 3am and we walked back to the hotel where we just chatted and stuff*. And it was lovely. </span></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">We went down for breakfast in the morning before he left on the coach for his 18hour trip back to Bucharest, and he promised to keep in touch via email. </span></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">So i'm back home now and true to his word, he emailed me on Monday. Now considering I didn't give him my email address, I'm pretty chuffed. Although to be fair, I am the only Georgina in Provident UK. Anyway, he writes really sweet emails and puts Kiss at the bottom instead of xx. Which I find hilarious - I think this must a European thing.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Obviously nothing will come of this, I'm not going to move to Romania or anything. If he lived in England then things would be a little different I think. But he doesn't, so they won't. And I haven't had an email today, so think it's fizzled out already.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Incidentally, we've just had our team awards this month, and I received an acknowledgement for going above and beyond the call of duty for building relationships between the UK team and the Romanian team. Fortunately, the group head of marketing thought it was because I did a few extra hours last week. Well I guess I did really!</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Anyway, that's all from me.</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Oh incase any of you were wondering, I haven't heard back from that journalist guy. I guess perhaps GATC isn't quite right for Company magazine. I'll keep trying though.</span></span></p><br /> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Kiss</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" align="justify"><br /></p>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-85348325306646787722009-08-24T21:35:00.002+01:002009-08-28T21:43:00.585+01:00Episode 13: The one which is different from the rest<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Well hasn't this one been a long time coming? There's been a couple of false starts though - a couple of guys in Thailand, a random guy from work, and a couple of lost exchanges through match.com. But nothing special. Most of you have been telling me to pull my finger out and look for men the traditional way. So SURPRISE! This one is about a guy I met in a pub.<br /><br />I'm about 5 months into my new job and reaping the benefits of working in town. Yes the potential for dating is immense, there's cafes, bars and shops a plenty to try and attract the attention of a foxy guy on his lunchbreak. However it's not that easy to strike up an innocent conversation whilst waiting for the Philpotts lady to assemble your salad. You can’t really make any jokes about couscous and olives without looking a little strange. So I admit it is harder than I thought.<br /><br />Nonetheless I relish any opportunity to go out on the town, so last Friday after getting my hair cut (Yes, a new month, a new hairstyle for George) I tottered of to the Elbow rooms for a couple of cocktails with my work colleagues. Time moved swiftly on as did we up the streets of Leeds. And then we stopped at what I believe is the worst place ever on lower Briggate. Well, second to Nandos. The Hogshead. Have any of you ever been there? Now there is nothing actually wrong with the place but everytime I have ever been past, I usually see some lout with blood dripping down his face, and a load of fat men in football shirts. Not the sort of place one would expect George to hang out in. I went in anyway, didn't want to look like a snob. <br /><br />After about 20 minutes standing randomly at the bar, some guy happenend to start talking to Rachel and I. Something along the lines of 'Are you girls having a good night?' Innocent enough, nothing cheesy, just a simple question. And he just seemed a decent guy - good height, build, full head of hair, good set of teeth (albeit with expensive invisalign braces) and just generally nice. Until we started chatting a bit more, and I discovered that I perhaps am a little more snobby than I would care to admit..<br /><br />I gingerly tried to ask why he was drinking in the Hogshead and he said that his friends had been barred from the Elbow Rooms. I looked at his friend and nearly had a heart attack. Imagine if you will, the chavviest person ever, in a tracksuit with a gold chain and missing teeth. His other friend was passable, but still looked a little chavvy. Yet this guy, Anthony, looked normal. I gave him the benefit of the doubt - thinking that they might have been loose work associates and carried on talking to him. And then after some gentle coaxing from Rachel, I let him take my number and we arranged to go for drinks the following Thursday.<br /><br />I think it is good for me to date people from a wider circle than perhaps I am used to – you never know how it could turn out.<br />So here’s why Anthony passed:-<br />1. He's a plasterer. I've never dated a tradesman before or in fact anybody who doesn’t do 9 till 5.<br />2. He is only 24. This isn't so bad, but he texts like a 16 year old, and has the spelling age of a 14 year old. In the grand scheme of things, this isn't a dealbreaker, but I just don't understand why ppl feel da nd 2 tlk in txt spk.<br />3. He has black roots. Now people often ask me why I don't go out with black guys. This isn't a conscious decision - it just so happens that black guys rarely approach me. Actually that’s a lie. Sometimes when i'm wandering about my daily business and I happen to walk past a black guy, they do the look, and then the noise. Occasionally I get a 'Hey sista!' <br />I was sat in our little office garden a couple of weeks ago, and this black guy comes up to me and goes. 'Hey, how are you'. I responded appropriately and then he said ‘ Do you know where British Gas is?’. For those of you who have never been to my work, there are 3 buildings surrounding the little garden. Only one of them has a sign outside. This sign says British Gas.<br />Fool.<br />I appreciate the fact that he tried to get conversation going, but black guys for me are terrible at starting conversation. Here’s another one I’ve had.<br />Him ‘Where you from’<br />Me ‘Ghana’<br />Him ‘ I’m from Nigeria. We’re next to each other on the map, so maybe we can be next to each other in bed!’<br />Me ‘ I think you’ll find that our countries are seperated by Togo AND Benin, so that keeps me safe really doesn’t it’<br />Anyway, so Anthony's father is mixed race/dual heritage whatever and originates from Africa. So genetically he's a bit black. So now you can all stop asking me about the black thing.<br /><br />I digress.<br />I suggested we went for drinks in the Adelphi around 8. I turned up promptly at 8. At 8.02 I got a glass of wine, and sat in the litle side room. At 8.07 I started to panic. I held it together though, because I'm not a freak. He turned up at 8.15, but fortunately he was really apologetic and got me another drink. So I forgave him and we sat down and chatted and stuff. And I was really suprised at how lovely he was. I presumed that cos he a totally different upbringing, then he would automatically be a cretin. But he wasn't. Which was lovely. He has a right thick yorkshire accent though.<br />Time passed and conversation ranged from our preferred electricity providers, trips abroad, who really could swim faster out of a shark and a dog, and the fact that his little sister is best mates with the girl who does my waxing. <br />Time continued to pass and at about half past 12 it became obvious that the staff in the Adelphi wanted to go home. Unfortunately, Anthony didn't want to go home, and I didn't really as I was having quite a nice time. So we walked along the canal, got to the end, had a bit of a kiss, and then walked back to get taxis. And that was that.<br /><br />Since then, the weekend has been and gone, he's text me a couple of times. I know I rang him during my lost hours in the V festival hidden garden, where I also lost my phone, my pride, half my lunch and the opportunity to watch the Ting Tings. Apparently this has only made me cooler in his eyes, although I've earned the nickname 'shandy pants' - I think it means lightweight.<br /><br />But yeah he seems like a nice lad, so I we're going out again on Wednesday. <br /><br />PS, I could go on, but I’m now on 1200 words, and you’ve probably all got work to do. <br />x </span></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-80145321539902632392009-05-12T00:48:00.004+01:002009-05-20T23:17:00.161+01:00Episode 12: The one which I've wrapped up<span style="font-size:85%;">After watching the match.com adverts recently, I've decided that the two characters (Cupid & Fate) are actually a fair representation of the type of guy that I seem to find on match.com. Average looking, Pretty clueless about women and unfortunately thinking they are totally cool when in fact almost the opposite is true. It amuses me that the site guarantees that you will find love after 6 months. It's been five months since I joined up and all i've found is big hole in my bank balance caused by going on endless dates with inappropriate guys just incase they have the potential to blossom into my next boyfriend. (...and breathe!)<br /><br />The most recent reprobate that I had the misfortune of spending time with was Paul (Episode 9).<br />It started off well, we went on nice dates to Trio, Comedy at the Oak, ice skating & the cinema (Watchmen, his choice; bad film). We got on ok, had a couple of laughs and that.<br />Now although he was a lovely guy, he just seemed to have a juvenile personality. But boys grow up eventually, so I tried to ignore it in the hope that he would suddenly mature. But alas,<br />this wasn't true and it had to end.<br />Just to prove that I wasn't writing him off too soon, I've listed a few of his good points below in conjunction with the corresponding dealbreakers.</span><br /><table><tbody><tr><td><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;">He cooked me dinner (which was lovely) at his house.</span></td><td> <span style="font-size:78%;">He put on the Sky planner on the tv for background music</span></td></tr><tr><td><span style="font-size:78%;">We went ice skating, and then he suggested dinner afterwards </span></td><td><span style="font-size:78%;"> H</span><span style="font-size:78%;">e wanted to go to Nando's</span></td></tr><tr><td><span style="font-size:78%;">We had a nice date in Browns</span></td><td><span style="font-size:78%;"> H</span><span style="font-size:78%;">e said it was old fashioned because the bar had ceiling fans as opposed to air conditioning</span></td></tr><tr><td><span style="font-size:78%;">He liked live music </span></td><td> <span style="font-size:78%;">He thought that live piano music in a bar was really old fashioned and "sad"</span></td></tr><tr><td><span style="font-size:78%;">He said I had a really nice (and tidy) house </span></td><td> <span style="font-size:78%;">He dissed my piano. In front of me (and it). In my own house.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Nonetheless, I still put all these bad points to the back of my mind just incase I was being too penickity. I can't be too choosy at my age you see.<br />The nail in the coffin happened after he stayed over at mine, and then didn't contact me for 3 weeks. He later said that he hadn't been in contact because he'd been in London. Yes London; apparently he has some sort of phone which doesn't get reception there. What nonsense. I decided that I couldn't be bothered with such a rude individual and subsequently didn't<br />text him back.<br /><br />And then yesterday, I got a text from him (after another 2 weeks of no contact).<br /><br />P: Hey George. I'm finally back from London now. Do you want to meet up for a drink next week?<br /><br />I thought about it for 20 seconds, and then thought No. So I replied<br /><br />G: Hi Paul, thanks for the offer but I'm going to decline. I think we're just a little bit too different. Glad we hooked up though ;) take care, love George.<br /><br />I thought that was a textbook response and left it at that.<br /><br />3 mins later<br /><br />P: Really? That's a shame. I thought we had fun, and I can't stop thinking about your great bum. <--- (Cheap shot I thought, but fine.)<br />G: Thanks, what a nice compliment. 10 mins later P: Look, I really had fun with you and still owe you a fiver from the grand national, let me take you out for a KFC! <br /><br />After picking my jaw up from the floor, I decided it was time for the true George text wit. <br /><br />G: KFC?? I hope that's you being witty! I'm afraid no amount of spicy chicken wings would tempt me. Best use the £5 for a bargain bucket for one. My treat x <br /><br />I then got something along the lines of how he was more of a Burger King man. I don't remember exactly because I deleted it. Safe to say though I was unimpressed. I didn't reply. I've since seen that he's altered his match.com profile, but I don't want to click on it just incase he gets any ideas. <br /><br />I'm hoping the next episode will be a Thailand exclusive. I'll be on my own for the 14hr flight and for the first week as well, so I'm going to have to actively make some friends. Until then as always keep your suggestions coming. It's been 14 months now, and time is ticking by.......... x</span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-7714410123056557592009-02-05T22:31:00.003+00:002009-05-20T23:07:57.764+01:00Episode 11: The one that you all didn't want me to do<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: Russell<br />Age: 27<br />Occupation: Masters Student - Spanish and Portuguese<br />Description: Judge for yourself.<br /><br />So, the last time you checked I'd been juggling 3 guys: Paul, Sam & Russell. Paul who dumped me for football, Sam who dumped me for bad personal news, and Russell who I'd dumped because I couldn't handle 3 guys at the same time.<br />In the past week, Paul and I have had a brief text convesation, but I think we both know that it's not meant to be. Sam and I have been chatting online, but there has been no mention of another date.<br />Incidentally whilst I have been writing this Sam has come online and told me that he is a committment phobe and that relationships never work for him! I didn't ask for that, I just asked how he was. Why do guys feel the need to open up when they talk to me. Surely they can't expect sympathy. I told Sam that he was hanging out with too many girls and he should find himself some boy mates.<br />And then we have Russell. Ahhh Russell.<br />Well Russell is perhaps the most controversial date I have ever had. And here's why:<br /><br /><pictures identities="" the="" protect="" to="" deleted="" have=""><br />(pictures have been removed to protect the identity of both men, but it's a picture of Russell next to a picture of the Ex.)<br /><br /><br />Yes. They look very much like each other . Clearly seperated at birth. For those of you who are unaware, Russell is on the left, and the ex boyfriend is on the right. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained, so we spent this evening at the Adelphi getting to know one another.<br /><br />He's a nice chap. I won't lie to you. But he's totally wrong for me. And here's why. Firstly, he didn't buy the first drink. Now I know he's a student, but come on Russell, where's your manners. Secondly, he doesn't drive. I'm not holding this against him, but you can't get to Wortley on a bus very easily. So no sleepovers for him.<br />Thirdly, he's from the South and thinks that the North starts at Birmingham. Get a grip.<br />On the plus side, he has no interest in football. That is like a golden ticket!<br /><br />So we had a few beers and got chatting. And it was nice. I wouldn't say we chatted about ourselves that much, but we seemed to bond over a common love for all things Spanish and also a mutual appreciation for Toronto and Niagara falls.<br />I also quickly realised that he had an appreciation for legs, because he wouldn't stop looking at mine. To be fair to him, I was wearing a short dress (with brown tights) and stilettos but you'd think he'd be subtle about it. At one point I had to hide them under the table because he was just staring at them. And they're not particularly long legs anyway, they are just standard brown legs - nothing fancy. Just legs.<br />So anyway we stayed in there from 7.30 till 11pm. He isn't a shy guy, but I don't think he gets out much. He doesn't watch any telly - he doesn't own one.<br />But he does download a lot of films. So we discussed that a bit, and also about what would happen if his life was to become a film. Basically he'd rob a bank, move to Brazil and then kill lots of people. I'm not sure what this tells me about him - perhaps he is competitive?<br />He didn't really make any effort to accost me, there was the occasional knee graze and the obsessive leg stare, but generally he was very well behaved.<br />But then he asked the forbidden question: 'So how many guys are you dating on Match?"<br />Now in this months Elle magazine, there is an article on New York style dating, and the author recommends that you tell the truth when asked this question.<br />So I said '3. How about you?'<br />And he went 'Erm not many' which I took to mean zero.<br />I sort of made a joke about how it was harder for guys, and he seemed to be comforted by this fact so I think I got let off the hook.<br />The evening went really quickly and pretty soon we were the only people left in the pub. I decided to let him walk me to the station to get a cab.<br />And to be honest, I was expecting a kiss. Out of all the guys I've been on dates with, except perhaps Tom Episode 2, I think I got on with Russell the most.<br />Actually thinking about it Tom was a catch. I missed a trick there. But anyway we had a cheek air kiss - which I thought was acceptable. I'm not sure if I'll see him again. He text me saying he'd had a fun time, so perhaps there is short term potential. I don't know. I felt a little deflated when I got home.<br /><br />I think this may be the last Gal and the City for a while. My match.com expires tomorrow, and I really can't be arsed to go out on the pull. I think I might try another means of attracting men. Maybe speeddating? Please send in your suggestions, I'll follow them up if they look feasible..............<br /><br />Laters xx<br /><br /></pictures></span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-48919452362201857672009-01-27T21:52:00.000+00:002009-02-19T22:49:55.614+00:00Episode 10. The one that was, then wasn't, then was, then wasn't<span style="font-size:85%;">I'm in a bit of a mood this evening, so this might not be as comical as I may have intended. But nonetheless, the quest for true love isn't always fun and games....<br /><br />I've been quite busy since Episode 9. I think I went out almost out every night last week and it made me realise that I may have been in danger of becoming old before my time. Aside from last week I can only just remember when I last went out on the razz. And that is shocking! I am only 27. I am still in the bosom of youth. So I'm going to make an effort to go out a little more. And I think you all should too.<br />Because it is nice once in a while.<br /><br />Man wise, things have been getting a little sticky. I've had to put Boy No 3 on hold (although he doesn't know it) because quite simply I just can't keep track. And also all 3 boys live in Headingley which just makes things ridiculously awkward.<br /><br />Paul and I have been out again; he's a nice young chap, but this week I've been queuing up Boy No 2. Sam.<br /><br />So Sam is from guardian dating, he became my fan (yes that's how they put it) a few weeks back, and we've been emailing through Facebook mainly and have had a couple of online chats. He's the lead guitarist in a band and he seems pretty cool. And he is also a fox.<br /><br />Anyway I think we were supposed to go out a couple of weeks ago, but never got round to it because of something or other, and when we were chatting online last week, I mentioned it again and we decided to go out on Sunday (just gone). We left it that he would call me before then to decide when and where.<br /><br />Now, those of you who keep up with Facebook will know that I had a bit of phone trauma over the weekend and was disconnected from the world for quite some time. So I facebooked Sam on Sunday morning to say that I could still go out, but I didn't have a phone. And then as fate would have it, we happened to both be online early on Sunday afternoon.<br /><br />I opened up a chat window and did the usual hello etc, and he replied with "Oh. hey, i was just emailing you". And then I got "Er, my mate has just had some bad personal news and I don't really want to go out tonight. Could we take a raincheck?"<br /><br />WTF!!<br /><br />Bad personal news??<br /><br />I know i'm probably a cynic, but why make up such a flamboyant lie?? If you've chickened out, or you can't be bothered, just say you forgot your parents were coming or something, and can we reschedule?<br />Don't make up some stupid reason. Or even, say you have a hangover or you don't feel well. Don't insult my intelligence with bad personal news of your mate's. That's just stupid.<br /><br />Bad personal news. What does that even mean?<br /><br />Anyway, so of course I said it was fine, we chatted for a little bit, and then he said "See you later".<br /><br />He won't.<br /><br />So that left me a little deflated. But I'm not one to wallow in self pity. Oh no.<br /><br />I promptly picked myself up again, messaged Paul and asked if he wanted to go for dinner & drinks this coming Thursday. Which he did, and this made me feel rather chuffed with myself.<br /><br />Fast forward to this evening, and I get a text message from Paul...<br /><br /> "Hi, sorry I can't do Thursday anymore. I have football. Are you free tomorrow night?"<br /><br />I'm sorry??<br />Football??<br /><br />Over a girl?<br /><br />Football?<br /><br />Over a girl?<br /><br />WTF?!<br /><br />I know we've only been out twice, but you'd think he'd sacrifice one game to spend an evening in my company?<br /><br />Anyway, so of course I said it was fine, but I couldn't do tomorrow as I was already busy.<br /><br />So in the space of 1 week, I have gone from two dates to no dates.<br /><br />I don't understand. What have I done?<br /><br />I hope it's not Karma trying to bite me in the ass because I've been greedy.<br /><br />So i'm thinking I might reinstate Boy No 3. Who looks exactly like Christopher. I don't think this is such a bad thing, but most of you lot are telling me otherwise.<br />Each to their own eh?<br /><br />There are no boys this weekend as I'm off to London for Sarah's hen do. Can you believe it, they're getting married in 6 weeks! OH MY GOD!<br /><br />I am so excited I could burst.<br />Anyway, that was just an aside. Perhaps I'll meet a foxy boy at the wedding......<br /><br />Laters<br />xx<br /><br /></span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-75181522757083737272009-01-15T12:34:00.001+00:002009-02-20T13:41:47.223+00:00Episode 9: The one which was pleasantly surprising<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: Paul<br />Age: 27<br />Description: Accountant, 6ftish, Dark brown hair, lovely eyes, Good body.<br />Venue: Skippy's 9.15pm last night</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />So a new year has begun, and with that comes the prospect of new men. Three in fact. Yes, the proverbial myth really is true; I've sat around waiting for guys, and now 3 have come along at once. They are all from different frequencies of the spectrum but nonetheless are all fighting fit, reasonably foxy and worth my time.<br />They're also all courtesy of match.com which I know is lazy, but it's too cold to go out and hunt for men in the traditional way.<br /><br />Boy No 1 emailed me at some point last week to break the news that the millrace has closed down (i'd quoted that it was a favourite restaurant in my profile). His profile read well, he seemed a nice lad, but his profile photo was him wearing a mullet wig and dressed as an 80's policeman! Try as I might, I couldn't really ignore this, and automatically wrote him off - especially since he used words like awesome, wacky, bummer in his email. I replied politely and left it at that.<br /><br />The next day he'd replied back, and had cracked a few lame jokes and I decided to not bother replying.<br />The next day I got another email saying 'Do you want to go for a drink?'<br />I thought about it, but didn't reply.<br /><br />The next day, I got another email circa 100words apologising for 'rushing things' and he hoped he hadn't overstepped the mark etc......well it was in the style of Stephen Episode 6. This totally turned my stomach and I decided that I definately wasn't going to bother.<br /><br />Fortunately Sarah (who I should listen to given that she's engaged to a lovely boy) and Rachel (who too is married to a lovely boy) told me that I should get over myself and give him a chance.<br />So I did.<br /><br />Anyway, so we ended up having a couple of drinks in Trio last night.<br />Fortunately, he turned out to be a bit of a hottie, so I was quite chuffed with myself when I saw him at the bar. We sat down and did the 'So how was your day' routine. Obviously my day had been plastered all over Calendar news so we just chatted about that for a bit, and just standard date type chat.<br />What's weird is that we didn't really talk about ourselves that much, just stuff we liked in common really. And it was nice. At times he seemed to have a wandering eye but I think he was fairly interested in what I had to say.<br />Shortly before 11pm, he started looking a bit itchy and shifting about it in his seat. So I just blurted out "Are you ok, you look like you want to go?"<br />And he was like "Erm well yeah I've got an early start in the morning so.... erm yeah"<br />And I was like " Oh. I see. Okay then, let's go".<br />I was a bit put out given that we'd only been out an hour and a half, but decided not to make an issue of it.<br />So we walk downstairs and I was turning right, and he was going left. We did the whole 'Nice to meet you routine' and he goes "Do you want to go out again?"<br />And I was totally gobsmacked as I was convinced he'd been trying to escape for the past 20 minutes. I sort of pulled a contorted face and went "Er okay then yeah, call me ?"<br />And then he leaned in to kiss me, but he caught me off guard, and I was still totally freaked out, so I turned my cheek and he got that awkward half way place at the side of my mouth.<br />Which I think he thought was pretty fair, and he walked off into the night.<br /><br />As it happens, I'm convinced that he's a much more normal person in real life than on paper and all the lame jokes and that must have been some sort of cover as he seemed totally different yesterday and a lot more natural<br /><br />I'm still putting him in the back corner for now though until I've been out with Sam. That's probably going to be next week, so keep your eyes peeled for that.<br />Laters xx </span><br /></span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-69179518538071643222008-11-10T12:37:00.001+00:002009-02-20T13:45:12.001+00:00Episode 8: The one which was really nice<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: Sean<br />Age: 26<br />Description: Irish firefighter with arms like Austin Healy<br />Venue: Angel's Share, Chapel Allerton (yes again, it is clearly a place to pick up men!)<br /><br />18 whole weeks. That's the amount of time it has been since my last update. That's getting on for 5 months.<br />In that time, I've been flitting about up and down the country, going to parties, weddings and leaving no stone unturned in my quest to attract a beautiful man.<br />And people tell me that you can find love anywhere. To a certain extent, its probably true.<br />I've been chatted up in the women's shoe dept in TK Maxx, been asked for my phone number at two separate sets of traffic lights, had all kinds of messages from various dating websites and even experienced an attempted 'hit on' at Fitness First Bradford. All amusing, but none of these men have been suitable enough to even talk to let alone write about.<br />Its hard to stay optimistic during such times, but every so often, you get a small glimmer of hope that makes all the effort worthwhile. I don't know if this will even pan out or not but even if it doesn't, it was still really nice.<br />Last Saturday, we all went out into Chapel A to mark a sorrowful occasion. Gemma is moving to London. Now I'm not going to get upset about it, but we will all miss her terribly :(<br />Anyway so I got chatting to Sean quite early on in the evening. I've met him a couple of times out and about as he is friends with Gemma's neighbours, so we sort of know each other. He isn't bad to look at, has beautiful eyes, but his hair is a little on the shaggy side. Apparently he has been told to get it cut as it is a fire hazard. Thank God!<br />And he's 5ft 8 - but I could do with a man more my height - it makes spooning far easier!<br />I can't remember what we were chatting about but he was telling me stuff about his job, and how he rescues people from car crashes etc, and sometimes they die but he tells them they're gonna be okay cos he doesn't want to scare them. As a general rule, if you survive the 3rd impact (your heart hitting your ribcage), then you're probably gonna be okay. 1 being the initial impact, and 2 being your body hitting the seatbelt!<br />So the evening passed relatively quickly, and soon we were on the way back to Gemma's house hand in hand. Now I was feeling rather confident with myself by this time, clearly fuelled by Jaegermeisters and Cava. So I went in for the kill, and he responded appropriately which was good.<br />We settled up on the sofa and just chatted and stuff (which did involve some kissing). He was totally well behaved, didn't whinge when I asked to keep X Factor on - even though it was 3am. AND he kept his hands firmly above the waist, and didn't even try any funny business.<br />At first I thought that was strange, but then I've since decided that he must be a gentleman and I shouldn't think he's gay because of it.<br />By the time it got to 5am, I think we'd both subconsciously made a decision not to bother going home, so we just curled up and nodded off.<br />When the morning came, it was all fine, we chatted for a bit and then remembered that neither of us were in our own houses, and thought it best to tot on home. He didn't specifically ask for my number, but I needed to call my phone from his as I'd temporarily lost it. So he saved my number that way, and then disappeared off into the morning.<br />I've since had sometime to reflect on this, and yesterday I had decided that I really liked him. But now, in the cold light of Monday, I've become more realistic and am going to accept fate whatever the outcome.<br />I've had some inside information which suggests he may call me. But I don't know.<br />I hope he does, or at least messages me on facebook.<br />Will keep you updated with progress<br />xx</span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-16791510583886951232008-07-17T13:36:00.001+01:002009-02-21T00:49:20.043+00:00Episode 7: The one which could have been three<span style="font-size:85%;">Wow, I hear you say; two updates in as many weeks. The gods must be shining down on George finally. Well alas, they aren't. I've been sitting around waiting for Cupid and Fate, but between the two of them they have royally c**ked up my whole week, and made me shudder at the thought of finding a man to date.<br />And the reason.....? Unrequited Love.<br /><br />There is nothing worse than finding somebody who you like only to find that they don't like you back. This has happened to me 3 times in 1 week. I don't know whether its the new long hair, my ample bosom, or the fact that I'm simply b-e-a-utiful, but over the past 7 days, I have been both victim and culprit.......<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Incident 1: Stephen from Work:<br /><br /></span>You'd think after I called him a wet and a gay, he'd realise that I had no feelings for him and he'd leave me alone. But no, the texts and the emails still keep coming. E.g "i've shaved and moisturised 3 days on the trot!.Soon I'll be delightful and irresistible lol "<br />Really Stephen, it will take more than a Gillette Mach 3 to make me fancy you.<br />He also told a mutual colleague that he'd dreamt about me, and in his dream I said I'd go out with him.<br />Come on Stephen, it ain't gonna happen. Ever.<br />Even if you do send me texts at midnight saying you won't be fat forever, and that I'm really special, and if I ever change my mind, you'll be waiting for me.<br />Get a Grip!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Incident 2 The Rentokil man;<br /><br /></span>Last Friday, the man from Rentokil (Luke (27ish), 5ft 8, Townie haircut, gold/missing teeth, gold chav chain) called round to my house at 8am to check on the mice situation - of which there are none.<br />Unfortunately for me, when he rang the doorbell, i wasn't dressed. So I quickly put on a vest top - which I now realise was a mistake, and jeans.<br />So I opened the door all smiley, and he started smiling at my chest. Anyway, after establishing that I was going to Edinburgh without my boyfriend, he asked if I would take him with me. To which I nonchalantly replied "No, you'd be subject to ridicule by all of my family". And I thought that was enough.<br />So yesterday morning, he was supposed to turn up for another mouse check, but he left me a voice message saying he couldn't make it, and could he reschedule.<br />I text him saying yes that would be fine, and I would be at home this Friday after 2pm. And then I get this reply:<br />' Well its a date then beautiful lol, see you at 2pm on Friday'<br />To which I effortlessly replied "Er probably best to leave your charm at the door on the way in and concentrate on finding the mice!"<br />I haven't had a message back yet.....<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Incident 3: The object of my affection.<br /><br /></span>Perhaps this is a bit of an exaggeration, but I was in Edinburgh last week hanging out with all my non-cousins, and was saying how I found it difficult to meet guys, and I didn't like just approaching randoms. And my cousin Joe was like - give it a go, Its good when girls come up to guys. They won't be scared, just smile and be pleasant. So I adopted this methodology for my Auntie Tina's party.<br />I saw a nice looking guy in a stripy shirt so I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Result I thought, now all I need to do is talk to him, and I'm back in the game.<br />So on my way back from the loo later on in the evening, I saw him outside having a cigarette. In the short time it took me to say hi to my Dad on the stairs and make it outside, this guy had disappeared. Even though we'd clocked each other when I was coming out of the loo. So I went outside anyway to sort of make out that I needed some fresh air, and I realised that he was round the side of the building, but not in a "lets be secretive" sort of way, a proper "sh*t let me hide from the green dress girl" because I could see his cigarette smoke billowing shamelessly from afar.<br />How mean is that, and to top it all, when we were next both inside, everytime I smiled at him he looked away.<br />So I felt massively dejected.<br />But then on the flip side, I am the object of other mens' affection, so it all balances out really.<br />Anyway, my match.com account expires tomorrow. I think it was a waste of money although I know a couple of my mates wouldn't agree.<br />I've now joined mysinglefriend.com.<br />Thanks to Sarah for writing some lovely words about how great I am.<br /><br />Oh, and here's some happy news. I entered a SATC competition with Elle magazine not so long back where I had to write a SJP style article involving me and Galaxy chocolate. I didn't win, but this morning I received a months supply of Ripple bars as a runner up prize. Hats off to me!<br />x</span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-74617135200702529482008-07-07T13:37:00.001+01:002009-02-21T00:43:42.533+00:00Episode 6: The one which was inevitable<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: Stephen from Work<br />Age: 24<br />Description: Um, well he doesn't really float my boat. At all.<br />Venue: Death by text message.<br /><br />So here we are again with another instalment of George and the City. It really has been a while, so I expect this update will be welcomed with open arms.<br />Don't get too excited because I didn't meet anybody at Rachel's wedding. There were a few potential foxy guys, but nobody really showed any interest, so I just shook my ghd curls on the dancefloor instead. I might add that I've totally ruined my weave by using that thermal protector spray.<br /><br />Anyway, so let me set the scene:<br />There's a guy at work, who has recently moved back to Bradford after a stint in London, and we work together often. He's a perfectly normal human being, 5ft 8, dark hair (nicely styled), a few extra pounds (I'm being nice), and a mildly witty sense of humour. But that's where it stops. Mainly because he isn't foxy. But it stops. Fully stops. Completely stops, and no potential for anything else. Ever. At ALL.<br /><br />Unfortunately for the both of us, because we are both single, the office seems to think that we are the next BB Dale and Jen.<br />We get on well, I don't deny that; but I get on better with boys in the workplace generally. He's no Bryant or Crell, but he's the closest I'll get to having a boy mate at work.<br />Anyway, so this past week we were having a chat about how he has no friends and doesn't know Bradford/Leeds very well, so I invited him to my cocktail party. (PS let me know if you haven't had a invite as Facebook has screwed it up). And he text me this long reply about how he didn't want to go cos he has no confidence with girls and he didn't want to embarrass me in front of all my mates etc. And I was like - oh its okay, lots of people have self confidence issues, come along and my friends will be nice to you, it will be fine and there will be boys there too.<br />And then that was that.<br /><br />So, roll on to Rachel's wedding, I'm dancing away to Love is in the air - the band were so so so good. and my phone beeps with an sms:<br /><br />S: Would you like to go on a date<br />So I'm stood there thinking, oh f**k now what do I do. So I text back<br />G: "Are you drunk?. I am, at a wedding and its fabulous (it really was trellis, or parnellis as I'm calling you now)"<br />S: "I've had a bit to drink but I'd marry you any day George x x x x x x x x"<br />G (thinking oh f*ck again), "Stephen you're pissed, I'm putting this down to alcohol, see you Monday".<br />And then that was fine,<br />So I got no more, and thought I'd escaped swiftly. Until 7am the next morning. This below is a summary of the transcript of text messages that ensued. I hate texting at the best of times.<br /><br />7am sunday morning<br />S: "did I text you last night"<br />Me: "its 7am, yes you did, but it doesn't matter, I'm going to sleep".<br />3mins later,<br />S: "what did I say"<br />me "do you not have sent items? , it really doesn't matter"<br />3 mins later,<br />S: "no go on, tell me what I said"<br />me "okay, you asked me out, then said you'd marry me. its no big deal, lets drop it now"<br />3 mins later<br />S: "oh, really, how embarrassing, sorry,but people have been asking what's going on between us and I was thinking about you.(cue more nonsense, I only read it the once cos it turned my stomach, so I can't really remember)"<br />me "jesus christ stephen, this is insane, just leave it now okay"<br />3 mins later<br />S:"hope I haven't upset you, I'll delete your number from my phone, hope I haven't ruined our friendship (etc more rubbish.."<br />me: "you can still text me, just not at 7,30 am"<br /><br />and then I got some peace, until lunchtime<br /><br />S: "hi george, its stephen, really hope I haven't angered you. I'm sorry I asked you out, and obviously you didn't relish the thought, its just you've been really nice to me....(cue more soppy nonsense"<br />me: "Stephen, really you're being wet now, Can we just leave this"<br />3 mins later<br />S:"okay, but what do you mean by wet"<br />me (and sorry this is nasty): " By all this incessant texting and explanation nonsense, it's just very gay. Just drop it all now, and lets say no more about it"<br />And then I got no reply.<br /><br />I know I got a bit nasty, and this morning, he said that he thought I was really rude to him.<br />But I don't want to be accused of leading him on. It's emerged that some people in our department have been filling his head with deluded ideas of a romance, based on the fact that we walk to to the canteen together and he occasionally buys me a scone.<br /><br />Garrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr<br /><br />So that is the latest.<br /><br />Oh and I text the ex boyfriend during the wedding saying that I forgave him, and I understood why our relationship would never have worked despite our best efforts because we did want different things. But I sent it to my sister by accident, because i'm a numpty.<br /></span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-53005985853295277212008-05-14T13:39:00.001+01:002009-02-21T08:45:17.273+00:00Episode 5: The one with the boy next door<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: Matt (a different one), & possibly David<br />Age: 38?<br />Description: Matt:Tall, dark hair, would have been foxy about 10 years ago, Dave: not worth describing<br />Venue: Next door's garden<br /><br />I thought I would write an Episode 5 for this, even though it probably isn't worth it. But I know how excited you all get at the prospect of me entertaining men at every opportunity, so here it is.<br />So; on Sunday evening after having spent 3 hours on a train from Edinburgh, I decided to sit in the garden for a bit of fresh air. Now, I have two sets of neighbours who were both sitting outside; Marion and Rob - the ones who don't let my friends park outside their house, and Matt - an IS lecturer at a London university - even though he lives in Leeds, but never mind.<br /><br />Matt and I are quite pally with each other, he sometimes comes in for a cup of tea, or we chat in the garden and things. There's nothing in it, he's a single man who has a kid at weekends. The ex-boyfriend and him used to have a bit of mountain bike envy with each other, but generally he's a nice chap.<br />So I'm sitting in the garden, and he leans over the fence and the conversation goes something like this:<br /><br />Matt: Have you bought your bike yet",<br />George: "no, not yet, I need to clear out my shed first and there are a few spiders in there" (typical George answer).<br />Matt: Can't you get your boyfriend to get rid of them for you?<br />George: "Erm I could, but we're not together anymore, so that could be a bit awkward"<br />Matt: " You broke up, that's a shame"<br />George: "Yeah"<br />(insert general break up small talk)<br />Matt: "Ok, well I'll let you get back to enjoying your drink then, see you"<br />And it all ends well.<br /><br />Cue 5 minutes later, I'm still sitting drinking my Magners (out of a champagne glass), and out of the corner of my sunglasses, I see a man come out of Matt's kitchen, blatantly check me out, but tries to make out that he's just walking round the side of the house to look at the fence. And then he turns round and walks back into the kitchen.<br /><br />3 minutes later, Matt comes over and says - "Have you eaten yet?"<br />And I'm like Shit what do I do.<br />So I said no, (because I hadn't) and he goes - "Would you like to come in for some chicken"<br />Now I was a little wary at this, because I'm still a bit unsure about the euphemisms and also general lies that men use to get women into bed. I'm sure you all remember me falling for the "We don't have to do anything line"<br />Nonetheless I decided that chicken didn't mean sex, so it would be safe to go over. So I did.<br />And Matt introduces me to his friend 'David'.<br />"Georgina, this is David. David is my friend. David is visiting this weekend. David lives in the South. David is a trained chef you know. David is quite well travelled."<br />From what I could gather, David pretty much had the sun shining out of his ass, but alas he wasn't in the least bit foxy<br /><br />So David and I had a bit of a chat whilst Matt pulls out a roast chicken out of a very trendy looking John Lewis range cooker, some new potatoes, some rocket. and some balsamic vinegar<br />Then out comes the garden table, and some red wine, and a bottle of pear cider, and it sort of turns into an alfresco garden party complete with some sort of trendy wireless looking musical device. Matt son (Euan) joined us to eat, but then went off to watch Dr Who on the tv, so it was just me and the two guys for the best part of 2 hours.<br />And there was lots of grown up chat, about all sorts of things like African dictators (my contribution was "yeah, have you seen the last king of Scotland, isn't it gruesome"), life in Uzbekistan (where they both met), and of course the weather, house prices and the benefits of living in Wortley and not London.<br />I felt a bit out of my depth at some points, and I think David decided that I wasn't worth pursuing and he rang for a cab about 9pm. Although he did say it was nice to meet me etc, but he was probably being polite.<br />I too made my excuses and hot footed it back to my place, but not before I'd polished off most of the alcohol.<br /><br />So that was my Sunday evening, but now I need to know if I have to return the favour.<br />Ideas and thoughts please?<br /><br />x<br /><br /></span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-6872121528280944532008-04-21T13:40:00.001+01:002009-02-21T08:46:56.302+00:00Episode 4: The one where she behaves like Samantha.<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: Matt<br />Age: 30<br />Description: Tall, dark hair, quite foxy although a little on the chubby side. A little Spanish looking<br />Venue: Angels Share, Chapel Allerton (again!)</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />It's been quite some time since I ventured into the match.com arena. Mainly because James the quantity surveyor dented my confidence a little, but also because I haven't really had the time.<br />So I went out with Gems and Jenna (Gem's mate) on Friday night to have a bit of a laugh and to check out the local talent.<br /><br />One of the shortcomings about match.com is that you must remember that you have agreed to put your photo up on the internet advertising the fact that you are looking for love.<br />Whilst this is fine, and only a select few get to see this, it can become a problem if those few cross over into the real world. This has already happened to me once before - the guy in question lied about his height anyway, so once I'd seen him in real life, I just ignored him online.<br /><br />Anyway this Matt character has previously viewed my profile but not winked at me, and I've viewed his profile too which technically means that we know each other exists.<br />I clocked him at the bar pretty early on, and I think he clocked me but obviously pretended not to know who I was. Nevertheless he still decided to come and put his coat on the sofa that we were sitting on. Which was completely random given that he was at the bar, and we were sitting on the sofas near the door to the toilets (which is completely on the opposite side of the room!)<br />And that was that really, for the next ~3 hours, we girls just sat, chatted, got ridiculously cheap cocktails courtesy of Ogi D (the barman who is in love with Gemma) and had a bit of a dance.<br /><br />It all gets a bit hazy at this point but I do remember Matt's friend coming over and asking for a dance, and I obliged, but then I have a really awful feeling that I abandoned him halfway through dancing and went off to speak to this Matt character. So we had the whole "I know you from Match.com", "Oh yes, I forgot I was on that" etc......<br />Nonetheless, I suspect we got chatting, and then the bar closed and then we walked home (to Gemma's).<br />Then there was a bit of singstar, and then a bit of kissing. And I decided that I'd been panicking over nothing, and it was completely alright to kiss somebody else and it wasn't traumatic at all. So I'm cured of my kissing phobia.<br /><br />And then he pops the question:<br />Matt: "So do you want to come back to mine then (which was about 3 minutes walk away).<br />Me: "erm no not really, I don't think it would be wise",<br />Matt: "we don't have to do anything"<br />Me (being completely gullible): "oh Alright then, that's fine". And off I went.<br />Gemma has since told me that "we don't have to do anything" doesn't really mean that. Apparently everybody else knows this too!<br />So I soon discovered this for myself, and it was all totally fine. NB, there was no sex, but it was really nice to spend what was left of the evening in somebody else's company.<br /><br />Morning time soon came around, and I was all bright and bushy tailed at about 8.30. Which is more than I can say for him. I came to the conclusion that he was being tired and grumpy and I was being given the brush off, but in hindsight we did go to sleep at 5am, so I can't blame the guy for being tired really. So I lay there for a bit, went through his cd collection, went and sorted my face (and fake ponytail) out in the bathroom and came back and he was still asleep.<br />Cue about 20 minutes later he stirs a bit and we have a bit a chat, which is fine, he apologised for not being wide awake, and put it down to a mix of being hungover and having epilepsy (yes. Epilepsy).<br />So I called a cab, and when it arrived I got up to go, and he asked for my number. And I said no.<br />I'm not sure why, I just figured that I'd rather put the evening down to a pulling experiment and it didn't need to turn into a potential new man friend situation.<br /><br />I'm not sure whether he seemed put out or not, he certainly acted it, and I feel really harsh now. He was a lovely guy, and if I happen to see him in town again, then I'll go over and say hello and things. And I'm alright with that.<br /><br />So, that was last Friday.......</span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-85110180294978547292008-04-02T13:52:00.001+01:002009-02-21T00:20:10.609+00:00Episode 3: The one that never was<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: James<br />Age: 24<br />Occupation: Quantity Surveyor<br /><br />So, tonight was going to be this guy...<br /><br />Things were going well, we had a few email chats and texts etc. So I asked if he'd take me for a drink, and he said yes. I suggested next Wednesday (today) and he instantly replied saying fine.<br />I left him to devise at time and a venue.<br />So yesterday evening circa 9pm, I still hadn't heard from him, so I text him asking what the plan was going to be.<br />Now I'm still new to all this text game nonsense so I have no idea what is an appropriate time to wait.<br />But I decided that 10 this morning was long enough.<br />I was just about to start stewing when I got a text that said "Hi, sorry I'm going to have to cancel :( I'll let you know when I'm next free. James"<br /><br />How gay is that. I don't even get a fu**king explanation.<br />So he is now deleted from my phone.<br />Ponce<br /><br />What worries me now is that I feel a little bit deflated. This morning I was just like - what a kn*b i'm not arsed. But now i'm like - I wonder why he changed his mind.<br />Match.com is dangerous for paranoia. I might take a little break from it, cos its doing my head in.<br /><br />In other news, I had a really good review. My work really like me - apparently i'm always smiling, really approachable and friendly. HA!!!<br />They haven't seen me on a bad day.<br /><br />And in further news, The ex boyfriend is a tit.<br />I've finally entered the resentment phase, and am a little bit bitter. I think its probably cos we were due to go to Vegas next week and now we're not.<br />And the fact that I am 85% sure that he was entertaining a woman last Saturday evening (Probably the heroin addict)<br />And he still hasn't fixed my computer, and he is the only person that can. Which means my Ipod doesn't work.<br /><br />GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAH</span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-75586112602725225402008-03-17T13:41:00.001+00:002009-02-21T00:19:45.817+00:00Episode 2: The one which was promising<span style="font-size:85%;">Date: Last Friday<br />Event: Drinks<br />Venue: Angel's Share 8.30<br />Man: Tom the teacher<br /><br />So here's a question. How do you tell if a guy fancies you?<br /><br />He was nice, he too looked like his photo, although he was more 5'11 than 6ft. Dark hair, blue eyes, nice to look at. Although he was wearing a puffa jacket - which I thought was a little excessive, but a standard t-shirt, jeans, and some pointy trainers. A bit to casual for my liking but never mind.<br />He wasn't that smily, but made an effort to chat. I think he's a quite a shy person, cos he was really trying at the beginning. But me being my friendly self made him feel at ease and we got on a had a bit of a laugh. Turns out we went to uni at the same time, and know similar people and went the same club nights and stuff. We do have quite a lot of stuff in common although he is a strict vegetarian. I forgot to ask him if he ate fish, but he does eat a lot of tofu.<br /><br />We got on well after about an hour, and I remember thinking that we didn't need to work at conversation. He was driving, although he still had two pints, and I had two glasses of wine, and tried to be charming. I "think" he made an effort to touch my back at the bar, but it was half arsed, and he didn't do anything else which could have been touchy feely.<br />So we went to Zed bar about 11 and sat and chatted a bit more. And then it got to like 12 and I was thinking - how the f**k am I going to wrap this up. So I did a "soooooooooooooo" and he was like "yep, probably should go now".<br />And we did the whole nice meeting you thing and smiled, but neither of us made any effort to have physical contact. It could be that he was shy, or perhaps he didn't know what to do. But I probably would have kissed him out of obligation.<br /><br />I'm not sure. And I'm very smily naturally, so its not like he could have thought that I didn't like him.<br />On a seperate note, some of you may have noticed that my face has started to resemble the side of the moon. So I went into town with zero make up on so that the nice lady at Clinique could fix me. And guess who I bump into outside Primark.<br />Yes.<br /><br />Tom<br /><br />And I think he acutually looked scared of me, because he didn't smile. He was friendly, and we had a bit of a chat about what we had bought etc. And he asked me if I enjoyed myself yesterday, and I said yes. And then we sort of left it.<br />So I'm still none the wiser and I haven't heard from him yet. According to the Rules, if you haven't heard in 3 days, then it was never meant to be.<br />I'm taking a break from dating this week as its Easter, although I have identified my next suitor. Although he has a girlfriend, so I'm not too sure how that's going to work. They are on a break at the moment though, and I think it was just because we were both a little pissed on Saturday, but there could be some potential I think.<br /><br />George<br /><br />Cheers x</span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621659720773256355.post-10563800352702550822008-03-07T13:45:00.001+00:002009-02-20T22:20:36.337+00:00Episode 1: The first one<span style="font-size:85%;">Man: James<br />Age: 30<br />Date: BRB's 8.30 last night<br /><br />He was okay.<br />He looked like his photo. Had interesting dress sense.<br />Black t-shirt with ghastly silver writing on. But it showed his biceps. Good. Freckly arms though.<br />Dark grey work trousers. Standard<br />Tan Leather shoes. Good<br />Ill fitting jacket though - not sure.<br />Easy to talk too, I drank too much wine too early and got really high pitched and over enthusiastic. But then after a pep talk from Soph, I stuck to cranberry juice after that and it was all okay.<br />Went to Brb, and then aire bar.<br />He walked me to a cab rank at 11.30, and I went home.<br />Didn't try to kiss me which was good.<br />Not sure we'll see each other again.<br />Had lots to talk about but not sure how much we have in common. I suspect I'm probably a bit young for him.<br /><br />Anyway, next week its Gavin. He's much more promising......</span>Riccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09658168999544826508noreply@blogger.com0