To rent or buy?

Recently, I've been considering moving out of the house that I share with a male friend. He owns the house and sometimes it feels as though I'm the guest. So, I've been having a mooch at property websites. I can't afford to buy a house, and with my future in this country being questionable anyway, renting is the only option. But it's still so much hard work. You have to find one, like it, spend money on it and live with your choice. A big investment of your time. Just like men.

I've obviously bought one before, until the cracks started to appear and the whole thing subsided. Since then, I've been renting. I'm waiting for a good investment to come along. Something with character, a strong foundation, and let's not forget a big chimney!  

Since my last blog post, I've viewed three potential properties. Let's have a look through the key hole... 

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet.

 

 

Juliet Capulet didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Not only did she kiss a guy after 14 lines spoken between them, although I've also done that, but she gave her life for him too. Idiot. Now, we all know  the story of Romeo and Juliet. It is their names that keep them apart. Well, that's with good reason.

 

I met a guy on Match who was absolutely perfect. Not only was he completing a PhD at a very good university, played numerous instruments, enjoyed seeing the world and reading a variety of literature, but he also played rugby too and was gorgeous.

 

This guy was pure marriage material. So, I'd tell friends about our lovely first date at a local quiz. Then they would ask me his name. As you know, I have code names for guys on my blog, so I'll keep it the same for this one. Let's just say, when I told people his name, they couldn't stop laughing. I couldn't get past it. It's over between us. But please don't judge me. He also made fatal errors on the date as well as date number 2. The name was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

 

Property number two was much more aesthetically pleasing! A girly night out with a colleague which started with cocktails and a gig ended with her bumping into someone she used to work with in France on her gap year. Very random as he lives 2 hours away.

 

As we went to the bathroom, she told me that he thought I was cute. Are you effing kidding me? He is drop dead gorgeous!

 

We made our way back. I started a conversation with him and we chatted. I asked if he wanted a drink and we made our way towards the bar in a very hectic pub. He grabbed my hand. Giggle. And we kissed as we got to the bar.

 

The remainder of the night consisted of us kissing constantly. I'm not complaining though. France Guy was a pretty darn good kisser. At one point, as we smooched on the dance floor, he leant me backwards. This was going to look just like the old black and white films. People would look at us and think that we were so glamorous and romantic. That didn't happen. He leant me so far back that we both fell over. It was in slow motion. He landed on top of me. Again, I'm not complaining. My friend nearly wet herself laughing at us and couldn't even help us up. Glamorous.

 

Now, let's have a look at property number 3. I've joined another dating site and he was on there. We hit it off straight away, and within 24 hours of initial contact, we had spoken on the phone and had Skyped with one another.

 

Funny, works with children, plays guitar, nice hair, has lived abroad...

 

Yep, he sounds like a good investment to me. Maybe I should try this one out.

 

Date number one consisted of going for a meal. It was odd meeting him as we had already Skyped for around 10 hours previously. I felt incredibly comfortable with him and we spoke to one another as though we had known each other for, well, 10 hours.

 

With me on my date (I never travel alone) was my ear infection. I had lost hearing in my right ear. Fun. So when he asked where I wanted to go afterwards, my reply was somewhere quiet. He suggested his house. I said yes. Now, I would never ever usually go back to a guy's house on the first date. I think it's trashy. However, I felt really comfortable with him.

 

Back at his we kissed and cuddled on his bed. We then did more things. But not the big thing. You know what I'm talking about - renovating the front porch. This wasn't because the painters and decorators were in though. We both have said that we would want to wait until we were 100% comfortable. I like that he's said this. He gets house points for that one.

 

We started off with three promising properties. Let's examine:

 

1) Name Guy just didn't feel right.

2) France Guy isn't in the right location.

3) Cuba Guy is promising for a good rent. Maybe even buying.

 

I've recently heard that men are like apartments. They're hard to find and when you find them then you're scared to sign the contract. I'm good at finding them, but now after a year of being homeless, am I ready for a contract? Could I be moving to Cuba?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





You again?

In my last post you will have noticed that I have been a little miffed that my ex keeps indirectly popping up in my life. So imagine my face when we saw each other, 10 days short of a year from breaking up with him, in my gym. Yes, that's right ladies and gents. Awkward!

I stood in the line for the cross trainer and looked across towards the weights. I saw his face in the reflection. He was lifting weights. I scrambled onto the machine trying to play it cool. He doesn't see me. Well, I'm assuming he didn't see me. Mainly because as I was about to get onto the bike, he saw me in the reflection and turned around. His face was less than friendly and I had a face as if it had been smacked with mackerel.

Pushing my body to the limit on the bike, I decided to stop and leave. Oh shit! To leave the gym I would have to pass the mats where he had moved to in order to work with kettle weights. Neither of us looked at one another.

Why can't he just fuck off?

Ah, so it is a small world after all!

The Disney ride doesn't lie.

Are you ready for this? Take a big breath now and see how shitty my life really is after leaving my ex of 8 and a half years. I can't escape him!

A couple of weeks ago on Facebook, which is quickly becoming the devil's toy, I noticed that a friend of mine was in a photo with my ex. That's certainly odd. I mean, they never knew each other when we were dating; she was a friend who I went on a training course with.

That photo played on my mind.

I also managed to make the mistake of getting a job at a place where my ex's cousin works. We used to get on so well and go to each other's houses, go to family weddings together and talk really openly and honestly with one another. I remember very early on in the relationship I thought I might be pregnant and she was the one who I took advice from. Seeing her at work is not easy.

She plays on my mind.

Another photo on my friend's Facebook appears of some sort of cake creation with my ex tagged in it. The cake is on the coffee table at her house. I see his feet perched upon the table in the background. Hmm, he never put his feet up at mine. I wonder if he's moved in with her.

I tell a work colleague about this and have my little moan. I tell her my theory on how I think he's moved to an area very, very close to where I live.

That night, my colleague sends me a text saying that she's seen our other colleague (ex's cousin) in my favourite pub and he was with him. It turns out that he has moved to the local area and she was showing him around.

We always wanted to live together. Unfortunately, we never lived closer than a 30 minute drive from each other. Now it's 5 minutes. If that!

The location of his new house plays on my mind. I know you can see a theme here. Well done.

So feeling a bit low last night, I decide that I will go out for dinner with Housemate Guy. It turns out he doesn't have a girlfriend. We do have a nice time, apart from him asking me back to his constantly. No means no. Argh.

Discussion moves on, and I notice that he's friends on Facebook with the girl who I went on a course with. It turns out that they lived in the same house briefly. Oh really? I tell him my ex lives there now. He says his name. He's met him.

I can't even see a fucking guy without my ex popping up. He's a plague! He's with me at work, in my pub, with guys who I see, he sees my colleaugues, and he lives with someone I know and in a location very close to where I live.

Why can't he just be out of my life? Why can't I just move on? I just want to rest/live/drink in peace.

Plan:
Take Spanish evening classes at the local university. Learn Spanish. Move to central/south America.

And a milkshake for the gentleman sil vous plait.

I really fancied some fried chicken this week, particularly after a gruelling day at work. Hmm, who would come with me to TGIs? I'll ask 21 year old.

As I walked to his car I sent a message saying 'giggle' to a work friend who knew I was meeting him. It was all very exciting. A date with a 21 year old who has a car! Hang on, I need to make sure that I realise that I'm not actually a 16 year old. Check!

We were told we'd have to wait 30 minutes for a table, but that wouldn't be that much of an issue as we could go to the bar. After that day at work, I was more than ready for an alcoholic beverage. 21 year old guy, what would you like? I'll get this.

What? Seriously? That's what you want? Erm... OK.

One cocktail and one... Oreo milkshake.

Awkward.

I decided that I'd pay for dinner, after all he's on considerably less money than me. It's only TGIs. No big deal. At this point I do feel a little like a sugar mama. Is a sugar mama defined by what she gets in return? Just wondering because I got a 10 minute snog and a very immature grope in his car. That's on his part. I know how to grope properly! Just wanted to clear that up.

He asked if I wanted to get a hotel room in the near future. It was under consideration, but the more I think about it, do I really want to? Yes it was cute kissing him in his car, and he is indeed super cute! Really nice hair. Something you'd expect to see on a young adult. But it's not quite sexy. Sexy is Ryan Gosling, not Harry Styles. Channing Tatum is also super sexy.

21 year old guy keeps sending me messages asking when he can kiss me again. I keep putting it off. It's obvious that now it's pretty much over.

I'm no sugar mama. I want a sugar daddy! Actually, that's not true either otherwise I'd be fucking my very own Christian Grey for goodies. So, I don't want to look after someone, I don't want to be looked after, I don't want commitment, but I do want someone to cuddle. And not a teddy. A real man who spoons me and kisses my neck. A real man who doesn't send me messages every 5 minutes, but does ask me if I'm OK every once in a while. A real man who asks me if I want to get a drink after a bad day.

So confusing. But I guess that it is safe to say that a guy who orders a milkshake at a bar is definitely not for me.

Cougar?

My sex drive is back. Yay! Let the mash see the sausage!

I'm sitting here, completely horny as fuck. But once again I have no one to do the deed with. Well, that's a lie.

I have a friend who is 21. I've worked with him in the past and had a fab time. A fairly good bloke. He's a little immature, but he's 21. Good for him! Feeling a little bored last weekend, he suggested we meet up and have a 'fun day'. Ooh, that does sound fun.

Meal, mini golf, arcade and cinema. He was right. Fun.

However, he now wants to start a relationship with me. He keeps saying how much he likes me, and that I'm this and that. My issue is his age. He really is a great guy, but he is also 21. I feel like a cougar. There's only 5 and a half years between us, and I know that really it's nothing. But he's 21. I've never dated a younger guy before, especially one who has not long left his teens.

Colleagues think that I should just go for it. I told them my theory on younger men being shit in bed, but they say that I could train him. Maybe they're right. He does seem eager and willing. But (another one) I couldn't imagine going to meet his parents and him introducing me as his 27 year old girlfriend who has a 'grown up' job, when he's barely left college.

In addition to that, he did officially ask me out. Here's the conversation:

Him: Do you live near *insert area close to my house here*?

Me: Yep. Why?

Him: I have a £10 voucher for Ask Italian. Fancy it?

I'm sure you can see my issue here. Bless him, it's all very sweet but can I really date someone who is that young?

He had even told me after our 'fun day' that when he showered in the morning, he used the aftershave shower gel as well as the aftershave so he would smell nice for me. When I told a friend at work this, she howled with laughter. And I agree.

21 year old guy is absolutely lovely. But he's 21. New realisation: I didn't realise that age was that important to me.

Should I let the mash see the chipolata?

Sissy Spacek has nothing on me

Hello there. I sure do need to slow down. I'm exhausted from all of my man eating! Pass me the salt and pepper please. Nom nom nom!

I met up with Hull Guy and he was absolutely lovely. He was completely on my level, and we even took the piss out of the couple on the table next to us who were quite obviously on a first date and having that first date discussion. It feels like I've known Hull Guy for ages, and I was really at home with him. Promising.

From the delicious steak house, we went to a cocktail bar where I had a... ahem... virgin cocktail. Gosh, it's been a while since I've had that word associated with me!

As we walked past the town hall which was lit up beautifully, he kissed me. And it was perfect. We made our way to his car, and his hands were wondering as we got lost around the city. I told him no and that I wanted to be respected. Good girl!  

Didn't last long!

He pulled up in front of mine and we kissed and kissed and kissed some more. His hands wondered, and I let them. Oops. I told you that I wasn't much of a lady!

He begged to come in to my house so he could make me orgasm. Well, OK, just one but then you have to leave. And one orgasm later (not through sex) he wouldn't leave. He kept kissing me and telling me he wanted to give me one more. At 2.30am, I was sleepy and reminded him that he had a long drive home. But he kept kissing me as I led him towards the door. Hint hint, right? Such a pain in my ass. No wait, I mean a pain in my neck. 2 days later and my neck still hurts from kissing the 6ft man. I need to find a shorter guy. Not even Deep Heat has helped!

Yesterday I received numerous messages from him saying that I was beautiful, pretty and that he hoped that I liked him. This all seems a bit needy to me. He noticed I went a little quiet and mentioned it, and I had to say that he seems a little intense. Don't call me heartless, but he is a little lost puppy. A cute one at that. He's even admitted that girls walk all over him because he's like this. I really don't want to be one of them. He needs to man up a bit.

Right, who's next? Any takers? OK, you there. Yes, you. Mexico Guy come on up. Myself and Mexico Guy have already had some fun Skyping. So it was decided today that we'd have some fun on Skype whilst I had a 'sexy' shower. Trust me when I say that there was nothing at all sexy about this.

Let's look back at the title of this post. Sissy Spacek. Who's that? Well, she's an actress known for her roles in Four Christmases (2008) and The Help (2011). Hmm, wait. Wasn't she in another film? Wasn't it a classic horror film from 1976 about a teenage girl who has telekinesis? Carrie!

I'm certainly not a teenage girl and I do not possess the powers of telekinesis. So how can this Skype ever relate to Sissy Spacek? Let me take you about 40 minutes prior to the Skype message. I had started to dye my hair red. The shower was to take the dye out of my hair. Wrong time to Skype.



It looked like a bloodbath. Not only that, because I had the shower door open, the dye sprayed everywhere and now I have to do a boil wash for the bath mat.

Note to self: try not to look like Carrie covered in blood when you're trying to be sexy in the shower.

Chest pains

The date with Academic Guy did not go particularly well. Not only was he incredibly boring and dull, but I had to leave early.

He's from Yorkshire and I adore the accent, but apart from that it was hard work. Anyone who knows me will say that I can talk for England. I don't really have an issue with talking to new people, and the problem is shutting me up. However, I just did not want to talk to this guy at all. He'd ask me a question and I would give a one word answer. I know that probably sounds rude, but I just didn't want to be there. I knew I should have cancelled. It was just terrible.

After having a rather lovely dinner of sausage and mash with gravy, I started to get chest pains. I've eaten my food a little too quickly there, haven't I? Oh well, I'm sure the pain will go shortly. 20 minutes later I was dizzy and the pain had worsened. I apologised and felt awful, but I had to leave.

As soon as I got in, I whipped my bra off, lay down for 5 minutes and I was fine again.

It wasn't an excuse to get out of a date, although I'm not sure how much longer I could've stayed there.

I was supposed to be meeting my fuck buddy, Tattoo Guy, this evening but he's cancelled due to injury. Oh what to do? I start speaking to Hull Guy. He wants to take me out for dinner. Tonight. It's currently 5.35pm and he's just popped into the shower and then he's driving down. I've booked us a table at a beautiful restaurant and this night is very unexpected.

Apologies but I need to go and get ready for a random date with a man from Hull.

'Tis the season to be horny!

Fa la la la la la la la la!

So, since my last blog I've been horny as hell. But not even the devil could seduce me. That's right - I've been ready to jump on it, but there are no suitable trampolines available. That's a lie, there are. Alas, I'm a good girl (I'm being very picky).

Let's start with Mexicio Guy. I used to work abroad in America with lots of other Americans. And in particular, Mexico Guy (one of the Americans). We always got on and I liked him, but I was in a relationship and I was being a good girl.

After 4 years we had exchanged brief messages on Facebook, but not much else. We chatted the other day and I decided to invite him to Cancun with me. It was a throw away comment but he has accepted. We've been chatting non-stop since through WhatsApp and Skype. He keeps saying extremely romantic things to me, and in Spanish too (his family are from South America). So I've been giggling like a school girl.

The issue is that he really likes me after 5 days. He's even planning the wedding. And if you think I'm joking, I'm not. I was sending him the link to the hotel I want to stay at in Cancun and he sent me a picture of the hotel's wedding brochure.

Pros -

• Has a very good job.
• If we do get together, I could move to the US.
• He's very romantic.
• He's bi-lingual and I love that!
• We have a connection through where we used to work.

Cons -

• He lives 4,326.1 miles away (yes, I've looked).
• We're going on our first date in 204 days.
• Our next date would probably be 204 days after that.
• He seems to really like me after a short amount of time and I'm not quite sure how to take that.

So, my holiday romance in Cancun is sorted out! At least we have a stunning setting. I'll be happy as long as this doesn't happen:

There's Hull Guy who is from Hull. We've been talking for a couple of days and he seems really into me too. I don't know what I'm giving out at the moment, but I wish it would stop.

Hull Guy is sweet. He has his own business, is writing a book, and has beautiful green eyes. We spoke quite a lot last night. He wants to come down to where I live (about 2/3 hour drive) tonight. But that leads me on to...

Academic Guy! That sounds like he has special powers. Yes, let me introduce you to Academic Guy!
He lectures at a pretty good university, but in a boring subject. This is really bothering me. It's in Economics. Now, I don't like to judge people but I appreciate humanities rather than numbers. Numbers are boring. Yawn. So, I'm currently getting ready for date numero uno with Academic Guy. I've already pushed it back 40 minutes so I can write this post for you. And as apprehensive as I am, we're going to a really nice pub and I'm going to order their amazing bangers and mash. Ooh, I do love a good sausage!

Fate? My arse!

I was about to go to sleep when I decided to have one more glance at Facebook. Without that glance I would not be here typing my blog post ferociously!

Apologies for the lack of blogging recently, but let me get you up to speed:

1) Went on a date with friend's housemate. Pleasant.

2) Went on a second date with friend's housemate. Pleasant again. Although we did look like two incredibly horny teenagers. Correction: two incredibly drunk horny teenagers.

3) Went on a third date to our lovely German market with friend's housemate. We agreed a date and time to have sex. Very organised!

4) Once home I thought about our dates. Sex kept coming up, but on his part rather than mine. So I sent him a message asking if he would be interested in dating after the deed. He replied he wasn't looking for a relationship. Well, I'm not looking for another fuck buddy. But that's not a problem at all. We're just after different things. Nice knowing you.

5) I really don't want things to be awkward with him for my friend's sake, so yesterday I sent him a message saying hi and all that jazz. He soon turned it into sex. I stood my ground and said that I wasn't interested. Well done me!

Where was I? Oh yes, Facebook and all of the joy it brings! He's been tagged in a photo with the comment saying that he's the best boyfriend. The picture is of a card he has sent his girlfriend saying how much he loves her.

First reaction was to send her a message to tell her how great her boyfriend is, especially at kissing. My second reaction was to call my best friend. She thinks that I should mess with his head. And I'm inclined to agree with her. I will start off by liking his girlfriend's photo. Then he knows that I know, and that I now know how to contact her if I wish to do so. I'll let him hang there slowly as worry and guilt consumes his cheating, pathetic little body.

Don't get mad. Get even.

All that glitters is not gold.

Bill was right.

Fit Guy from school and I have been talking for a while. None of that sexting malarky. But we both have said that sex is important. He then mentioned he hadn't had any in a while. I joked and mentioned the film Friends With Benefits. We laughed, however the more it was mentioned, the more it made sense.

I went over to his, and we both knew what I was there for. Rather than go into the living room, as we usually do, he took me straight to his bedroom. After some talking, and standing around in his bedroom in an awkward stance, he asked how this was supposed to work. I replied it was probably an idea to start kissing and then that would lead us to sex.

He's a good kisser. I'm expecting fireworks. He was also the hottest guy in school, and even an absolutely stunning friend of mine from the other side of the world has talked about how hot he is. Then again, she likes that Robert what's his face from Twilight.  Seriously though, this guy is HOT! So, we're standing kissing and his hands are under my top. They start going up extremely slowly. I know that he's trying to take my top off so I start laughing. Hot Guy looks perplexed and I have to explain to him that I know what he's trying to do and we both know why I'm there, so don't be so subtle about it. Just say "take your fucking top off" and move on. He follows my instructions to give me instructions and I end up taking my top off.

"Take your fucking jeans off" I hear. Someone is having a power trip. Hang on a second. I've got skinny jeans on and they're a bitch to take off. So, as I stumble around his bedroom trying to remove my jeans, I realise just how unsexy I look. Shame on me. This is Hot Guy. They come off, but I leave my socks on. I don't want to have cold feet. Plus, I don't care for feet. Great for walking around on though.

Lots of kissing later and he's ready for the main event. WOAH WOAH WOAH! Where's the foreplay? Shame on him! But he's Fit Guy so I let him off.

Oh my gosh! That man has all of the equipment, and more. This might be pretty good. Oh, wait. He is a man with all of the equipment, but unfortunately he hasn't read the manual. I can't quite put my finger on it. The old me would have thought gorgeous guy + very big penis = amazing sex. Maybe gorgeous people feel as though they don't have to try. But then again, Tattoo Guy is stunning, and he always gives me a 'pleasant' evening in.

When I leave, he apologises for the shit sex. Awkward. How do I respond?

a) It wasn't.
b) You're right, it was fucking awful!
c) Sorry, but do I know you?

I chose the first one.

We've spoken since, just not about sex.

What I can say about my experience with Fit Guy is that we were both quite mature and honest about the whole thing. We were not looking to ride off into the sunset together. We just wanted sex. And we got it. It hasn't ruined our friendship either.

Let's move on to Housemate Guy. I went on a date with him. It was quite nice. He said we should do it again, but I'm not sure. Nice guy but he still plays texting games and that doesn't interest me.

I prefer Scrabble

Things have been ticking along nicely. I'm still seeing Tattoo Guy, but not as often as I'd like. To be honest, when I saw him last week I wasn't too impressed. His skills had declined rapidly and when we decided to 'chill' on his sofa, I fell asleep. Probably not the 'fuck fest' we were both hoping for.

Do you believe in fate? Personally, I'm not one for it. Well, that is until Housemate Guy steps in. This is not my housemate. Just really wanted to clarify this.

A little over a month ago it was a work friend's birthday and he had decided that we should all dress up as Wally from the literary classic 'Where's Wally?' and so there I was dressed up as, well, Wally. And that's how I felt too. But I put on some heels and did my make up so at least I was a sexy Wally. If there is such a thing.

Before going to the Birthday Boy's house, I popped to another work friend's house to do some prinking (pre-drinking). I knocked on the door and a tall, good looking guy with glasses (I'm a sucker for a man in glasses) answered the door and told me where her room was.

She was doing her hair when I walked into her room. I didn't even say hello. I told her that her housemate was 'beyond fit' and that she had to hook me up with him.

So let's fast forward a few weeks. The nights are darker, the temperature has fallen and my nose is runny. As you're aware I'm on Match, and I start a conversation with a guy who's from down the road. He seems intelligent, and he's into some of the same things as me. He continues by saying that he's not actually a subscriber to Match, but gave me his name and told me to look him up on Facebook.

I did.

One mutual friend.

Oh, it's my work colleague.

Oh my gosh! It's her fit housemate!

I actually found this out whilst at work. But she was busy and I couldn't burst in on her. As soon as it was time for lunch I burst out with the news. I couldn't stop myself.

She told me that he was a lovely guy and that I should be nice to him, and not my 'maneater' self.

But is he a nice guy? Is he being a bit of a prick? Or is he playing the game? On Facebook, you can see when someone reads a message that you have sent them. I sent him a message. He read it. He replied an hour later. I repied straight away. He read it. He replied 2 hours later.

My friend told me that he's playing the game and that she did it with her current boyfriend. If she took 2 hours to respond to a text, then he took 3 hours to respond to a text message. I just do not understand this at all. How can you possibly hold a decent conversation with someone when you send them 2 messages a day?

We've been talking for over a week now, and I'm still waiting to be asked out on a date. Tick tock. Tick tock.

This is not an enjoyable game.

My very own Christian Grey

Since my last post, I have been on 3 dates with a lovely man. We met via the internet on match.com and we spoke on the phone for a few weeks beforehand. He seems like a very caring, thoughtful and well travelled guy. As he was incredibly interesting as well as having many of the same hobbies, we decided to meet up. Oh, you have your own business? OK.

Alas, my schedule is busy and I cancel on him. Twice. Oops. I decide that no matter what, on the 4th October that we will meet up and I will cancel any work commitments. I don't want him thinking that I'm not interested in him. He asks me where I would like to eat, and I'm quite happy with Nandos or another fairly normal chain with substandard food, but nevertheless, I let him decide.

"I've booked us a table at Purnell's" he says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. No jeans for me then. Best get a frock out.

We meet in Ginger's bar where there's a bottle of champagne waiting for me. So far so good. As I am given the menu I see that there are 2 options: £60 or £80. That's two weeks worth of food shopping for me. I opt for the £60 menu and he then decides on the wine; a £60 bottle of white. Well, it's no Blossom Hill, but it will have to do! We then continue on to an absolutely stunning meal at Purnell's. I have never in my life eaten such amazing food. I really cannot get over how magnificent the meal was and I'm already planning my next trip back.

We talk about music, friends, family, hobbies, favourite holiday destinations and the usual stuff.

Look at the time! We met at 7 and it's now midnight. I have to leave before my dress turns into my usual rags. As it's so late he offers to drive me home, and on the walk to his car he offers me his jacket. What a sweetheart! Financially comfortable, interesting, well travelled and now someone who gives me his coat when it's pouring down. Of course I took him up on the offer as I didn't want my hair to get ruined. And I really don't want to be the cliche girl, but as we walked over to his car, my heart did backflips.

OMG! HE HAS A MERCEDES BENZ SPORTS CAR! GIGGLE!

He drops me off at my house with a single kiss on my cheek. Perfect.

The following week he sends me a message asking to meet up after work. Bugger, I'm in my work clothes, but thankfully I have my make up at work so I can do it there. 

We head to a local bar, and I insist on paying for the drinks that came to crazy £5.50. Wait - he wants orange juice AND lemonade? He must think I'm made of money!

We eat and he buys, and we talk and talk and talk. Then he drops me off home with yet again another kiss on the cheek. I'm finding it difficult at this point to believe that there are still gentlemen out there.

Shortly after dropping me home, he calls me. He's still in his fucking amazing car, but now in traffic. He, who shall now be named Purnell's Guy, asks to see me the following day (yesterday) and I oblige.

So, now we're on date numero 3. He picks me up where I can make sure that a friend from work can see his car, and her jaw drops when she sees it. Giggle again. We decide on a Mexican place to eat and I inform him that I will be paying for the meal. We order, we eat, we talk and continue on with the normal pattern of a regular date.I ask him what he's most proud of, and he tells me about when he bought his mother a house. It makes my box of Malteasers look very grim. Sorry mother.  At the end of the meal, he yet again insists on paying. At this point, I really do feel as though I'm being bought.

We pull up outside of my house and he kisses me. Well, about time! I'm all for guys being gentlemen but sometimes you just have to kiss. It's the least you can do! We kiss for a while, and I'm a little disappointed with some stubble which is causing some pain to my lip. And this is to the point where over 12 hours later, my lip is still sore.

It gets a bit heavy and we drive to somewhere a little more secluded and somewhere with no street lights. In all honesty, we do everything but have sex. In his sports car. We talk about sex for a while. I'm quite open about it and it doesn't bother me. It's nothing to be ashamed of.

Now, I like to think that I'm a bit kinky, but I have nothing on this guy. He's a cross between Patrick Bateman and Christian Grey. He likes swingers clubs, hardcore bondage, group sex and doing a line of coke from a girl's stomach before he fucks her.

It is now at this point that I feel uncomfortable. He could have at least said these things to me later down the line rather than on date number 3. It's hardly something like him having a dog and asking if I have allergies. I would like to make it clear that I do not have allergies at this point in my life.

I also feel uncomfortable due to the finances between us. I am on 22k and he is very clearly on a hell of a lot more. I feel like I'm something to be bought, and he has even said that for my birthday he intends on taking me to London, where he now lives, take me to the theatre, buy me a gift as well as Agent Provocateur lingerie, and treat me. This would be after 3 weeks of meeting him. I'd be happy with a card.

He really is such a lovely person and we have so many things in common. However, I'm trying to weigh it up at the moment, and the scales are saying that, just like a pound of sugar, he's bad for me. I don't want to be a commodity. I left my old relationship partly because I want to be independent, and if lavishes me with gifts I might turn back into the old me.

So how was it for you?

Tattoo guy.

Oh my!

Yes please.

My bad boy aims to please, and that he does. I spent last Saturday evening with him. We had a Chinese and cuddled up on the sofa to watch X Factor. Athough 10 minutes into the show, it became obvious that he had other ideas. I had a visual clue, and took it as a hint. I took him up to bed, and well... sigh. And what an incredible kisser. In all honesty, we spent the majority of the night cuddled up and kissing. I've missed that.

Date with Science Guy was all too predictable and oh so very normal. We discussed work, and then discussed work some more, oh and then some more. Frankie Boyle was pretty good.

But let's get back to Tattoo Guy. Giggle. I think that I've made it perfectly clear that I'm very impressed by his skills. I want to see him again, but I'm so busy with work that it's hard to schedule him in. I have to see him again within a week. I don't think that I'll be able to wait much longer. He seems quite enthusiastic about seeing me too, so quite happy about that. I do smile when I think of him.

No, I will not fall for him. He's too much of a bad boy in regards to illegal activities, and that's just not cricket!

No, I will not fall for him. When he sends me messages, he doesn't use correct punctuation.

No, I will not fall for him. He wants to get more tattoos on his neck, and that just wouldn't look nice on the wedding photos.

Maybe I like him a teeny bit.

Lorra lorra laughs

They really are like buses, aren't they?

This week is a busy week; not only have I started my new and exhausting job, I also have 3 dates. I don't think that any of the dates are particularly healthy for my love life; they're more KFC than a vegetable medley.

So, let's go through these dates in a Cilla Black Blind Date way:

Date number 1:
On Wednesday I will be wined and dined by a gentleman 12 years older than me, who is originally from my part of the world, but now resides in London. A property developer with houses in Florida (one of which is his private house - probably where he maims and kills females he meets on dating websites) and he also has other businesses too.

So why isn't this one going anywhere?  1) I am intimidated by his wealth, 2) I feel like a bit of a gold digger, and finally 3) although we share a lot of the same interests, I'm just not bowled over at the minute.

Date number 2:
On Friday night I will not be wined and dined, but I will be meeting Tattoo Guy for a roll in the hay. We can all tell that this isn't the best idea, but a girl's got to have good once in a while! And with him, we both know what it's about. No emotions of love. Just sex.

Date number 3:
Science Guy is back on the scene. This will be our third date and we're off to see Frankie Boyle on Sunday night. I'm excited about this one. Alas, it is because I will be watching Frankie Boyle, not because I will be talking to Science Guy.

He's just a bit, well, wet. There's not much to him. And he certainly doesn't make me laugh. Yes, he's sweet, but he's not even sarcastic, and that is a minimum requirement. We haven't even kissed yet.

Here I am slagging him off, and knowing my luck he'll be the one who I end up marrying. God, I hope not.

Well then Cilla, I have 3 dates and none that are going anywhere, so thanks for that you ginger northerner!

Not tonight dear. I have a headache.

Last time I blogged there was a lovely young man who gave me lots of wine. Since he's been back from his holidays I have been busy with moving house and a new job, so I'm yet to see him. He wants to meet up but I find myself thinking that any free time I have, I want to spend it by myself. I'm with people all day and when I get in, I lock myself away so that even my housemate doesn't see me. Of course I eat dinner downstairs and watch a sitcom or two, but then I make up my excuses about tidying my room or working.

Bliss! I'm in my room and alone. Who needs people? I'm quite happy in my bubble, and more importantly, in silence. Even now I'm in bed (alone) and with nothing to distract me except this headache.

So, should I see lovely guy again? Yes, but not now. Peace and quiet for me. I might even get the knitting out. I do like to knit!

All in all, I think that I've turned into J.D. Salinger. I suppose there are worse people I could be like. Nick Clegg comes to mind.

Pass me a paracetamol and a glass of water. Maybe tomorrow night, sweetheart.

Mirror time

Guy from the last date is off on holiday, so I'm here 'on my tod'. It's OK. It gives me time to reflect. Yes, I like him, but do I want to start dating someone just yet? Not so sure.

Repost after deletion - Younger Guys

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

Younger Men

I went away this week to London to see a comedian. I went with a guy who I know from a job. I went with a guy who I didn't know particularly well. I went to London with him where we stayed in a hotel together.

It was all very civilised meeting up and getting the coach down. We discussed work and music and other topics that are just fine and perfectly appropriate for two adults to discuss. Well done me! This was a guy that I wasn't jumping onto like Boris Johnson jumping onto an electric bike!

Spoke too soon.

The hotel was lovely, very contemporary with nice blinds. What can I say? I like decorating. I'm currently in the market for blinds for my new house. Not sure whether to get them or curtains. Decisions!

As soon as the porter left us, this male 'friend' walked over and kissed me. Erm, OK. I wasn't expecting that. I'm sure you can figure out what happened then. Unfortunately, there was little foreplay. Important note to any guys reading this - foreplay is important. Spend time doing it. We're like a queue for a rollercoaster; we like the tease and anticipation of what's to come, ahem, and it prepares us for the ride.

The whole thing lasted 5 minutes. Don't get me wrong. I like a quickie, but that was like a bolt of lightening. Actually, that's being a bit nice. Not so much a bolt of lightening, but more of a spark when you touch a the car door. Disappointed.

This guy, who will now be Young Guy is, well, younger than me. He's the first guy who I've been with who is not my age or older. He's not a child. Just 2 and a half years younger than me. And now I know why I prefer the older male: experience. I imagined that as he was younger that he would be a bit more energetic. Well, get this guy a Red Bull because he needs it.

Maybe, sex at his age his just about sex, or as Ross Gellar calls it 'the physical act of love'. I don't think that he understands passion, which is the heart of my life at the moment. Life should be about passion whether it's a career path, hobby, or sex. It all seemed like washing the dishes, or doing the laundry. I've had enough of chore sex. It happened towards the end of my long term relationship. Sex shouldn't be something that happens with a schedule and with no passion. That's boring and not who I am whatsoever.

We continued the day with sightseeing and it was all very civil again. We got some food, went back to the hotel and got ready, saw the performance, and then made our way back to the hotel. There we sat on the sofa in our room and he started stroking my leg. Not wanting to go down the same less than mediocre route from earlier in the day, I got up and decided to put my pjs on and get ready for bed. So, on went my Mickey Mouse pjs and off came my make up. Not sexy at all now. This should put him off, right? Wrong.

We got into bed, I said goodnight and curled up. Then he curled up behind me. Awkward. Then he started stroking my leg again. And he started kissing my neck. Now, this is the thing that I really love. He's found my weakness. And he was good at it. No slobbering like a dog.

Foreplay part 2 was much better and lasted a good hour or so. But again, there was no passion. No connection with one another. Also, I think he thought that I was a fragile doll and was very gentle with me. It was, what I imagine my wedding night to be like. Screw that! We're in a hotel, we've been drinking. I'd like something rougher please! 50 Shades has nothing on me, and he's more like a Mr Men book - safe and predictable. Guess what Mr Happy is like. Happy.

It was coming up that sex was on the cards. And that's when he said something that changed it. He didn't like to use condoms and it puts him off. That's when I told him that I wouldn't have sex without one. No STDs or babies for me thank you! So, we stopped.

The next morning he woke me up by spooning me. I looked at the time. It's 7am, and the alarm is set for 8.30. In my subtle style I tell him to go back to his side of the bed and leave me to sleep. No one messes with my sleep!

Thirty minutes later, he's back cuddling me. I get up and get ready for day 2 of sightseeing. I'm not interested. The day was a normal day of sightseeing. We went to the Damien Hirst exhibition which was fantastic. Very impressed.

Then on the coach on the way home he decided to stroke my leg again. At this point I really don't know how to react. What does he want from me? I think stroking a leg like that was a bit boyfriend/girlfriend. It was affectionate, not what happens in London, stays in London.

I decide that the best way to get him off my back is to tell him about what's going on in my life at the moment. I'm not after flowers, I'm after a good fuck! Sorry, that sounds so crude. I did question myself to a friend and asked what's wrong with me. The reply was that I'm making up for lost time.

I told him about me seeing guys, and his hand moved away from my leg straight away. Success. He looked at me in a strange way, almost as though if I had said that I loved slavery and black people should still work for the whiteys.

From looking at his expression, I questioned myself again. Looking back on my blogs I have been seeing quie a few people, haven't I? Am I a slag? I remember what my friend has said about making up for lost time, and I feel a little better. I try and convince myself by thinking about the people who I have slept with. My number is well below double figures, and I've never met a guy in a club/bar and had a one night stand. I've always known the guy for a while and then it turns into something. Younger Guy is a bit of an exception as we barely knew each other beforehand, but we still did know to an extent. And with each guy, apart from this one, there has ALWAYS been passion. There's that word again. So, it's not like I'm doing it for the sake of doing it.

We discussed where I was, and what's going on with him. I ended up giving him relationship and sex advice. And just like that our relationship changed. We had, within 48 hours, started off as work colleagues, awkward sex partners, tourists, nearly sex partners again, tourists, and then friends who can openly discuss sex. Like I said to him, sex is just sex. It's natural and shouldn't be taboo. I'm finding that that I don't mind discussing it anymore now that I'm single. It was already quite Sex and the City before in regards to talking with a few of my girlfriends, but now I know that it shouldn't be a subject that is locked away and only comes out with cocktails. How very liberal of me!

Roulette and wine

Well, what can I say? There I was saying that I wanted to be single and I enjoyed seeing different guys. Nothing special. I just wanted to have fun.

I should explain. Last night I had an amazing night with a guy who's a friend of a friend. I was a bit dubious about the whole thing at the start, but really glad I did it. No, I didn't have explosive sex, but I did go on a very lovely date. It's probably the best first date that I've ever been on.

This guy is my age, and is a heating engineer. He dresses well and enjoys fashion. He even owns some Westwood. No Primark for him. We met about a month ago when I was out drinking with a friend and he was in the same bar. I didn't really think much of it at the time, even though he had told my friend that he liked me. Saying that we did end up kissing. Just some harmless flirting and some clean conversations via twitter.

Apart from a few things such as liking a football team that are scum, some music taste and that he owns a onesie, he comes across as quite sweet. My friend keeps telling me that he's a good guy, so we arrange a date.

We decide on the Mailbox and say that we'll meet at the front at 8. So, what should I wear? I opt for a pretty dress and heels. I'm on time getting ready. Bravo me. DRAMA! I cant find my handbag that would look really cute with the dress. After spending 10 minutes searching for it, I opt for another one. I'm still on time. Phew!

I'm about to get a lift into King's Heath where I'll jump, not literally, on a bus. However, as soon as I walk out of the house I notice that my brand new tights have make up on them. I rush back into the house and change them. Crisis averted.

I make it onto the bus where I cross my legs. I look down and see a ladder in my tights. Why do bad things happen to good people? There's no way that I could possibly go on a date with a ladder in my tights. What's the time? It's 7.57 as I get off the bus. I'm really not going to make it to the Mailbox for 8, especially as I decide to run to New Look and purchase some new tights. They're locking the door as I approach, but show mercy on me and let me in. £2.99 and a trip to the toilets on the theird floor of the Bullring later, I send him a message saying that I'm running late. Thankfully he is too, and I meet him at New Street station.

We walk to the Mailbox, and we're having the normal first date chat. We discuss our mutual friend, and how he's jealous of my holidays that I get through work. Our table for Strada is booked for 9, so we go to a bar and get a drink. I get a large glass of white wine that he refuses to let me pay for. So far I like!

We head to Strada and I'm already feeling a little tipsy. I must compose myself. I knew I shouldn't have ordered the wine. The waitress comes over and asks what I would like to drink. Wine please. There I go again.

Along with my mushroom risotto, I also enjoyed talking to him. It wasn't like the other dates I've been on. We had so many of the 'and me too' moments in our discussions that I was thinking at the time that I quite like this guy. He paid for the meal. Actually, I did it for him; he needed the bathroom and gave me his pin number. Very trusting of him, especially as he said how an ex got a lot of money from him.

We head to another place in and two white wines later we discuss gambling. I have a little problem when it comes to roulette. The problem is that I'm awful with the game and I've lost quite a bit of money from it, yet I find myself loving it. He enjoys roulette too and is off to Vegas next week, so in my completely drunken state I say that we should go to a casino. Part of this is because I love casinos, and also because it was one of those dates where you just don't want it to end and time doesn't exist in casinos, just flashing lights and racing hearts.

Yet again he buys me another wine, and I get out £50 to bet. I was up for a while and then I was down. However, he was up and left the table when he was up. Clever guy.

We're both out and leave the casino at 5am. We get a black cab and we just couldn't keep our hands off each other. I've kissed a lot of guys since my young days in Ramshackles, and I have to say (there's a gun to my head) that he's a bloody good kisser. I'm finding myself writing this just smiling and thinking about when I can kiss those lips again.

I wake up this morning with a smile on my face and a sore head. My sore head disappeared throughout the day, but the smile has remained.

25 words

So, I went around to the tattoo guy's house. 1 word with 5 syllables - animalistic. We'll be seeing each other again as soon as possible.

Bits and Bobs

Sorry that it's all been a bit quiet lately. Nothing too thrilling going on. At the moment it's all about second dates. Pilot Guy and Science Guy have asked me to go on second dates, so tomorrow I'm seeing Science Guy. We're off to get tapas. Now, I know what you're thinking. Why am I going on a date with him when I wasn't overly fussed last time? In all honesty, I think I'm bored. And I'd like to give him a second chance. I'm on Skype with him right now and he's having a bean salad. Little does he know that I'm writing this about him. Poor sod. 

I did go out with a male friend on Monday. I know him from school. We had a tiny thing when we were in college, and as he was known throughout the years as The Hottest Guy in the School, people applauded me when they found out. Even the cow who bullied me in year 7 said ‘well done’ for getting with him. We met up, he paid for a taxi to get across the city to my favourite restaurant. We had a lovely meal and catch up. He really is a darling! And then we went to the cinema and watched the Amazing Spiderman. And in all honesty, I don’t think the film lived up to its name. There was a Spiderman, alas, he was not amazing.

I don’t think you really understand how hot this guy is. I spoke to my best friend the following day and just giggled down the phone to her. I mean, he’s hot on his Facebook, but oh my gosh, in person this guy could be a model. And he gives really lovely cuddles. Giggle, giggle, giggle and so on and so forth.

So, who else is there? Oh guess who made a return today! That’s right – Lawyer Guy! He’s back in the city for a wedding and last minute this afternoon before he returns to the Lawyer Land of Cardiff, we decided to go to the cinema. On the way there conversation was once again polite. However, on the way back he decided to bring up his ex. Again. He started it by saying ‘I really like spending time with you *insert name here* and I think you’re really gorgeous and intelligent, but I thought that me and *insert ex’s name here* would get back together’. 

So…your point is what exactly? 

He even asked me for my advice. It seems that she has moved on and he’s too scared to start over again as a single man. I told him he needed to speak to her and blah blah blah. Why is he asking me for advice? 

He dropped me off, and I left the car without a kiss or a cuddle, but did tell him to call me if he wanted to speak. I am now an agony aunt which has pretty much been my role throughout my life with friends. I don’t mind it, but I don’t like it when he feels the need to say I’m this and I’m that. It will not break my heart if he’s not interested in me. You do not have to flatter me. I think that this man is just highly confused anyway. Nothing he said made much sense and he wasn’t really succinct. 

There is a new guy on the horizon…

NEW GUY ALERT! NEW GUY ALERT! NEW GUY ALERT! 

He used to work in a shop close to where my mother works and so I know him like that. We started with messages on Facebook, and now it’s turned into extremely naughty text messages. And I don’t mean leaving the milk out of the fridge overnight. Although, there’s nothing worse than warm milk. Eurgh!

The problem with this guy – Tattoo Guy – is that I know that he’s a complete and utter player. I don’t want to be just another notch on his bedpost. Hmm, where did that saying come from? 

(Looking for the origin of the phrase)

Well, I can’t find that. Anyway, I digress.

I’m really not that kind of girl. I’m really lovely. And modest too. But I don’t want him to think of me like that, which he will because that’s what he’s like. But then again, I mentioned to someone on Facebook about what he’s like reputation wise, and it was pointed out that it’s not such a bad thing.

Maybe that’s what I need. I just need a really good fuck buddy. How very American! He has offered his services and I shall be meeting him at some point this week. Not quite sure if it’ll be at his or not.

Apologies for this blog. It’s all a bit messy and unstructured, and it’s a bit of a catch up blog as I’ve not been online for a while.

Let’s see where this week takes us!

Also, this song reminds me so much of Maths Boy. Enjoy!