Strange things are happening…

This is a very quick post, but something strange happened last night. After work I went out for drinks with colleagues to celebrate Miss Comeback’s birthday (amongst others) – happy birthday Miss C! Anyway, the strange thing was, I didn’t dance all night! Maybe because we were tucked away by the bar where the acoustics were, shall we say, crap. But I didn’t dance at all. Not even a little wiggle. I just couldn’t get into the swing of things and ended up leaving with some of the girls at 10pm. Sober as a judge. I was in bed by 11pm.

What the actual fuck?

Strange.

Today I’m meeting up with a group of girls I’ve been speaking to online in our writing community for a couple of years – it’s the first time we’ve all met up together. I think it’s fair to say there’ll be lots of wine consumed.

Well, I have to make up for last night!

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Music with Mr Music

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention in my last post. I went out with Mr Music on Friday night. It was actually a lot of fun, we watched the Olympics opening ceremony and then got drunk. Since the last time I saw him we’d got so near and yet so far, I made sure to let him know I was capable of getting male attention and ended up reeling in a few guys for some light flirtation. As always, he bestowed compliment after
compliment on me. I am, apparently, a legend. Ha. As if I didn’t already know this. Inevitably we went back to his but instead of fooling around, we sat around smoking way too many cigarettes and chilling to music. We went from classic swing to ska and reggae and along the way, I found out a lot more about him. Although we’re mates, he’s very cagey when it comes to his family life, but as we sat there,
we swapped stories from our childhoods and respective family history. It was nice.

OK, yes, we did have a little kiss, but we both knew it wasn’t going to go any further than it did. It was just something that had to be done to get it out of the way – though I would just rather sleep with him and have done with than do this little merry dance whenever we
meet up. But it was nice. We fell asleep to Bob Marley and in the
morning he made me a nice breakfast.

So maybe I’ve not behaved 100% but still. I had a nice Friday night with a friend who’ve I’ve got to know a little better, so it’s not all bad.

My One Year Anniversary

Today I’m celebrating an anniversary of sorts. It’s a year since I left my boyfriend of 9 and a half years. I can’t really celebrate a proper year of singledom since things were very tumultous until the end of December but still, it’s a milestone.

Thinking back on the things I’ve done in the last twelve months, and the things I have to look forward to, is nuts. Aside from the male related activities I’ve enjoyed, I’ve reconnected with old friends, had a fabulous weekend away, started to learn a new language, learned to enjoy my own company, had fabulous nights out, got a step closer to
having my book published and generally had lots amd lots of fun. A
year ago, I’d have said the next year of my life would be much the same as it was then, which was OK. I didn’t realise how much I’d settled for. And now I think, what if I’d have stayed? I’d possibly be a mum, or pregnant. I’d no doubt still be angry at coming second to class A narcotics and I’d think that it was the way the rest of my
life would pan out.

Thank fuck I’m out of that.

I’m not going to deny the months after the break up were hard – at times I literally wanted to die – but now I can actually look back and say I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I made the right choice. I’ve got so much to look forward to. Marseilles, Ibiza, Glastonbury, spending more time with my friends and making lots of new memories along the way. And even better, I know what I want out of a
relationship now, and I know what I absolutely will not settle for.

I have to say a massive, massive thank you to my friends: Miss Sunshine, Miss Yoyo, Miss America and Miss Comeback for their words of advice and support over the past 12 months. I love you all.

Time flies when you’re having fun 😉

A Jubilant Jubilee Weekend

One of the best things about being British is our penchant to celebrate everything. I definitely wouldn’t class myself as a royalist but thanks to Queen Liz being on the throne for like, ever, we got a four day weekend to celebrate her diamond jubilee. And what a weekend! Where to start?

I swooned over a work colleague who doesn’t warrant a name in the blog yet, but he’s a looker alright. On Sunday I met up with my girlies all at the same time. Nothing new right? Well my friends have never met each other until now, we tend to meet up separately, but since we’re going on holiday together I thought it was about time. So myself, Miss Sunshine, Miss Yoyo and Miss America met up for lunch and I think it went very well! We were meant to all go shopping together but schedules got in the way, as ever. When I finally got home at around 9pm I got a text message.

Introducing Mr Pensive. He’s a security guard from my work who I’ve been eyeing up for a while. He managed to find me on Facebook and we swapped a few messages and it turns out he lives 4 streets away from me. So he asked me out for a drink. At first I thought ‘I can’t be arsed’. It was late and I was tired. But then I thought ‘fuck it, why not’ and so I went to meet him. To say he’s cute is an understatement. About 6 foot 4, brown hair, nice eyes. And 24 years old. Another young ‘un. Oh dear. It won’t go anywhere. The spark wasn’t there though I’m not sure if he’s just shy or his English second tongue was a hindrance. But he’s very sweet, walked me home and gave me a peck on the cheek. We’ll see.

Monday I had drinks with some girls from work organised by Miss Effervescent, who organises our girls nights out. Cue 7 hours of 8 girls occupying a corner of a pub. And lots and lots of fun! Too much food, too much wine and one very hot barman. Seriously I could have dragged him outside there and then, he was that hot. Aussie, blonde/brown hair, cheeky smile and a great arse. When we left I gave him my number. I must be getting bold in my old age.

There’s a saying that things always happen when you least expect it, and it’s true. I didn’t expect to get a text from Mr Music asking me out for drinks, but I got one anyway. Imagine that. So after our drinks with the girls I headed up to meet him and his flatmate. Long story short, it was a repeat of how it always is with him. Lots of talk about not wanting to ruin our friendship because it’s one of the few he values, blah blah blah. I just wanted to get laid. I didn’t. We went back to his, fooled around and then decided that actually, having sex might just push it too far. Come morning I got up, made myself a coffee and fully intended on sneaking out. And then he woke up, asked for a cuddle and apologised for being an arse. I told him not to worry about it, I know he’s an arse. And cue more fumbling. And last minute backing off. If I had balls they’d be bright blue. I left and haven’t spoken to him since, nor do I intend to. I’m treating this like a guy would and I’m not about to obsess or over analyse what we spoke about. Though I think I must’ve been on heat because I was noticing hot guys everywhere. When I met Mr Music, the most gorgeous American made conversation with us. He was tall, very tall, with tousled curly brown hair and the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen. We lost him in the packed out bar though, which was a shame. I blame it all on Fifty Shades of Grey. Yes, I’m reading it, don’t judge me. I need a Christian Grey in my life is all I can say.

And as for Mr Double-Barrel? I’ve decided to cut my losses. I’ve had enough of the analysis and uncertainty. I’ve not blogged about him since I met his friends but that’s a whole other post by itself. Suffice it to say, I think he’s playing games. So I intend to speak to him and see what he has to say for himself.

And now I’m getting ready for a trip to Ireland where I hope to meet with NaughtyLittleSecrets (check out her blog). If anything it will give me some time away from my mental gymnastics about Mr Double-Barrel because I’ll be going off-comms. Can’t come quickly enough!

OK, I admit defeat

So last night was Mr Music’s leaving do. It was also a friend’s birthday drinks so in all, I was looking forward to a great night out. I’d spent Thursday night at Miss America’s house with her and her kids. It was a nice chilled evening. As a side note, if anyone is thinking of watching Melancholia with Kirsten Dunst and Keifer Sutherland…well…you’ve got your work cut out for you is all I can say! The weather was beautiful and as I sat on the tube from the Hertfordshire countryside back to London for work, the sun was shining and the music playing on my iPod suited my mood. I’d had Coldplay’s ‘Don’t Panic’ in my head all day and night and it came on while I was looking at the greenery outside the window. Lovely.

The night started off very well with the birthday drinks. Cocktails on the go and we hit the dancefloor early to some retro beats. A group of us left to go Mr Music’s do and made the walk from Covent Garden to Regents Street. Let’s just say that things went quickly downhill from there. When we finally arrived, I had high hopes for the bar. There were a cluster of them all along what I can only describe as a wide alleyway and with people spilling out onto the street it had an almost mediterranean feel to the place. We saw Mr Music outside chatting to the fiancee of an ex-colleague and we barely got a hello. One of the girls I was with raised her eyebrow at me and said in her Canadian accent ‘gee, after that walk we don’t even get a hello?’ I had to agree with her, he was clearly on bad form. This was confirmed to us when inside, we got chatting to a mutual ex-colleague who’s good friends with Mr Music. Apparently he was in a mighty bad mood because the turnout was crap – well if you arrange your leaving drinks at 8pm what do you expect? Didn’t help that he was apparently an hour late himself.

When Mr Music came back in, I offered to buy him a drink – it was his leaving do after all. He said he wanted a shot because he was in a foul mood and when I asked why, he repeated what his friend had told me. I asked if he’d found himself a job yet and he has. He had said if he got the job then he’d have to move out of London, but apparently he’s now staying and will commute instead. He went on to tell me about the new place he’s moved into with his flatmate, blah blah blah. Where’s my invite?

Now, I’d fully intended to cut to the chase with him last night, so what happened next was a bit of a shock.

Mr Music: Sorry if I’ve been a bit distant with you the last couple of weeks. I’ve started seeing someone.

Me: Oh. (cue long, awkward pause). Anyone I know?

Mr Music: She’s taking my old job. She’s here tonight.

He nodded behind him towards a 5ft nothing blonde.

Me: Cool. How long have you been seeing her?

Mr Music: Only a couple of weeks. Probably won’t last long, there are things about her that irritate me already. It was actually because of something you said, about how I should stop messing around and get serious.

Me: Oh. (Clearly he’d taken my advice wrongly – I meant stop messing around and get with me, not someone else!)

Mr Music: What about you?

Me: I’ve been a good girl.

Mr Music: Have you heard anything from that knob? (i.e. the Ex).

Me: Nope.

Mr Music: Has he not been trying to get you back?

Me: Nope.

Mr Music: He’s a dick. He wasn’t right for you anyway.

Me: Yeah…I should go get some drinks.

I went to the bar and I’ll admit, I felt like shit. That was not the conversation I’d planned on having with him last night at all and I think until that moment, I didn’t realise just how much I actually like him. It could almost have been a RomCom. He came over a couple of seconds later and introduced her and then she went off to dance. We downed our shots and I went outside for a smoke with some of the other guys. Everyone seemed to be having a dire night, mainly because of the venue. Meat-market was not the word. And the music was awful. One of the girls we’d walked to the bar with had already left and the other was about to head off, along with our mutual ex-colleague. I decided to give it a bit longer. After all, it was Mr Music’s leaving do. But as I sat there sipping my double bacardi and coke, I knew I wasn’t going to last long. Not only had the only other people I knew aside from Mr Music left, Mr Music was nowhere to be seen. He came back a few minutes later with his new lady.

To say she didn’t look happy would be an understatement. I’d decided I was going to leave but clearly it wasn’t the right time to interrupt a domestic. I can’t be 100% sure that’s what it was but there was a lot of pouts and from her and calming down gestures from him. After two minutes I got bored, tapped him on the shoulder and said I was going. I got a half arsed ‘see you later’ in return and stormed out of the bar.

I was fuming. I didn’t appreciate leaving a perfectly good party to go to one of the crappiest bars in London and spend time sitting on my own. I literally stomped to the tube station and headed back to the bar I was in to start with and when I got back, ordered my next drink along with a shot of Jager. From there onwards it was a good night. I got chatting to a friend of a friend – a guy from Scotland. He reminded me of Four Weddings and a Funeral for some reason. He’s asked me out for dinner and I gave him my number. I’m not massively enthused, but I don’t know if that’s because I was so pissed off at Mr Music. He’s cute, works as a researcher and has a lovely Aberdeen accent. But he’s the same height as me, if not a little bit shorter, and nowhere near as manly as I like.

On the walk home, I stuck my earphones in and put my favourite playlist on shuffle. I regretted not taking pictures last time, so this time I did:

I’m sure my iPod is super intelligent because what comes on, but Coldplay – Don’t Panic. Thankfully, I wasn’t feeling suicidal as I walked over Waterloo Bridge. I was still a bit miffed. I mean, I don’t understand why guys go for girls who seem to cause aggro – again, I can’t be certain that’s what she was giving him but still. I’ve heard of the phrase ‘nice guys finish last’ but never heard of it applying to women. What were all our conversations we’d had in the past about? What made me mad was that he started the whole bloody thing in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, although I never thought of him like that until the end of last year, I’d still thought ‘hmm, what would he be like.’ It’s rare that I’ll tell someone I actually like them, and all I could think was, what was the point? Either he never really liked me and was blatantly using me as an ego boost, or he’s just too lazy to think about dating someone he doesn’t work with and therefore isn’t right under his nose for 7 hours each day. He’s a friend and I love him for that, just like I love all my mates, but I could actually have slapped him last night. I don’t know what was worse – seeing him with someone else or feeling like I’d made an utter idiot of myself. Fair enough, he’d seen me with my ex plenty of times but we weren’t the type of couple who acted coupley in public, and more importantly, I never knew Mr Music liked me then.

For the first time in 2012, I felt a chink in my armour. This is what’s to come – being back on the dating scene. The uncertainty and having to deal with situations where you like someone but they don’t like you back…

I can’t wait.

Dude, where’s my car?

After 7 years of being a driver, I am, for the first time, car-less. Today I signed over my ownership of a car that has served me well for years. Living in London, I don’t need a car for every day and since moving back with my mum I need it even less than I did before. After repeated attempts at replacing the catalytic converter, exhaust and various bits and pieces, the last straw came earlier this year when my mechanic told me it would likely need a new gearbox. Considering it was only a cheap-ish car, it didn’t make sense to keep it. That and the fact that by giving it back I’ve wiped off around £6k worth of debt. Piece of advice for people who aren’t particularly savvy like me – check any finance agreement you sign up to!!

I thought I’d feel a bit sad about handing it back but when I got the call today to tell me they’d be able to collect it, I felt excitement. My mum has always said that to make room for new things in your life, you have to get rid of the old. I’ve felt trapped with my car for a long time. With no savings I couldn’t go and buy one outright and with the value of the car depreciating every year, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. After finally making the calls and decision to sign it over, I’ve felt free.

I have a lot of good memories in that car, particularly with my ex. We used to go for drives all the time and once we even followed the moon, ending up in Essex somewhere. But then I have a lot of crap memories too. We’ve had some pretty heated arguments when one of us were behind the wheel. When I watched it being towed away, I felt nothing but a sense of freedom. My total debt has been significantly reduced, my monthly outgoings have been reduced since my insurance has been cancelled and it feels like a chapter has been closed in some way or other. I feel like I’m carrying around a lot less baggage and (hopefully) it won’t dent my social life.

I went out with Miss America tonight to have some shisha and kebabs on Edgware Road (no, not donor kebabs but the real thing). It was an unplanned outing and I had a great time with her, her husband and kids and their friends. I couldn’t fail to notice the cars driving past – Maserati’s, Porsches, Ferrari’s and more. Clearly I need to find me a rich Arab husband! I had a lovely time, even though it meant I lost track of time and missed my session with my Gym Buddy. I was hoping to get into the boxing ring and try it out but it’ll have to go on hold for another time. I’d say it would be next week but it’s Mr Music’s leaving do so hopefully I’ll be busy doing other things.

It’s been a hectic week in some ways, but I’m looking forward to the weekend and getting some time to chill out. With my car gone I feel heaps lighter and I’m actually excited about what’s going to come next…

3 out of 5 and going international

It’s been a good while since I last updated my lil old blog, mainly because I don’t know where my evenings are going! There’s a girl at work who always seems busy and I used to joke that she was too tied up. She’d reel off a list of things she’d do and people she’d meet over the course of a few days and I’d never been able to figure out how she wasn’t constantly overwhelmed. When I split with the ex one of my worries was that I’d be sat around doing sweet F.A and my evenings would all roll into one boring and uneventful mass of wasted time. It seems I was wrong.

Blogging provides a nice distraction when things are quiet and with the new WordPress Stats, I’ve been amazed to see the demographic of those who’ve stumbled upon my rambling posts. For one thing, most of the views seem to be coming from the US as opposed to my home country of the UK and my (frankly sometimes) incoherent babbling has reached as far as Mongolia, Indonesia, Iceland and Qatar. It’s crazy. A huge hello to any foreign lovelies reading this! 😀

Aside from blogging, I’ve started up at the gym again and as a friend works there, it’s been great to have a gym-buddy. I’ve only been going twice a week, but this week I’ve upped it to 3, and I’ll be continuing that trend. That’s 3 out of my 5 week nights gone already! It’s approaching 10.30pm and I’m only now getting to sit and relax after finishing work at 5pm. Mental. When you add on the inevitable Friday night out, I’m left with surprisingly little time to do the other stuff that needs to be done in my life. I’m not complaining – far from it. I love my life right now. I just didn’t realise how easy it would be to fill the time and it makes me wonder what the hell I used to do. I wish I could say something exciting was happening with my love/sex life but, alas, all is quiet on the Western front. Well. Almost, but that’s another post for another day.

Last week I caught the dreaded lurgy and came down with a throat infection. It’s gone now, thanks to my lovely friend, Miss America, and her herbal remedies. My weekend was spent accompanying her to a homebirth conference in my home town and it was great to listen to and be around so many midwives and doulas who were passionate about what they do. It’s only reinforced the idea that doula training is a must. It seems a more manageable goal than dropping everything to study midwifery anyway. And I’m immensly proud of my friend for holding her own during her workshop – it’s great to see her doing well. On Sunday I spent the day wandering around a shopping centre in London with my gym buddy (i.e. spending money). The sun was shining and it was a relaxed day, aside from almost pooping my pants after I thought I saw my ex. More details to come – it warrants its own post. Despite feeling pants for the latter half of last week, the weekend itself was fabulous.

I’m affording myself the luxury of having a weekend off next week. I plan to do nothing apart from lounge around in my PJ’s and finally lavish some attention on my spanking new Playstation 3. That being said, if the weather continues like it is, it’ll be difficult for me to resist the temptation for some alfresco beverages…