M.I.A in the world of dating

I have been M.I.A of late, because I have been putting myself out there. So I am back, and I must say that I am far from amused with what I have been putting myself through just to get a date. What am I mumbling about? well I went on a date last week and for some mad reason I decided to go to his neck of the woods.

So looking fabulous and dressed to the hilt, I strutted to the tube station in my highest of heels feeling great. The area that I was headed to on a balmy Friday evening was some small town in East London. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a zone 1 and sometime 2 only girl, I rarely venture beyond zone 2 unless I am en route to my parents in Herts. So going to zone 5, was me putting myself out there.

Once I arrived, I was far from impressed. I stood outside the rather depressing looking tube station wondering where the black cabs were. I also noticed that there was not a Starbucks or a Carluccio’s in sight, which gave me an “I am not going to mesh with this area” vibe.

So as I stood there, looking way out of place, I took out my travelling companion, my A-Z so i can look up the address of where we were meeting. I found it on map and that’s when the trek to find this elusive place began. Walking on my heels I went past council estates that where located near big car factories, I ended up walking through fields wondering why my beloved A-Z was letting me down.

Forty-five minutes later I was lost, sweaty and my feet where begging to be released from their leather prison. As an hour came and went I knew then that I was truly lost. So giving up and sitting down at a lone bus stop, I suddenly saw a man walking his dog coming towards me, panting and exhausted I asked my Samaritan whether he could point me in the direction of zone 1. Smiling at me he pointed at the bus 25 that was trudging down the road towards the bus stop. With a childish excitement I happily waved it down. Getting on, I thanked my Samaritan, nearly kissed the bus driver (I said nearly) and sat down. Nearly an hour later the bus reached the west end, and I have never been happier to see the dirty streets of the Oxford Circus. Getting off the 25 I was headed home ( and without the help of my useless A-Z).

So what happened to my date? Well I told him about my awful troubles and dramatics of trying to get to our meeting place and all he said was “what about you come down on Saturday and I will pick you up from the tube station”, and my response was “not on your life buddy”.

LSGS

Princess on a budget seeks her Prince Charming

Ahhhhh I was thinking today that life sure has changed and how much i grew in my 20's. Gone are the days when I used to call my dad up and say "Daddy I need money", or "Daddy did you get the bills I posted to you to be paid". I know, I know I sound like I was spoilt (note I am talking in past tense), but you know what I look at it this way, I was my dad’s little princess and he liked to tell me that whatever his precious daughter wants she gets!

Ok I am sounding like I was one of those spoilt brats on "Sweet Sixteen" programme on MTV, but do you know what I admit that I was slightly princess like throughout my early 20's. My father paid my rent and bills, my mum popped into London to pick up my washing and then drive back to London to drop it off.... okay I can so hear your tutting and I know you are shaking your head in disgust and thinking what a spoilt cow, what the hell is she whining about. Well there is a point to this blog entry and here it comes...

I remember when I left my job as Editor Assistant, a job I got straight out of University, after lasting 2 months. I hated it, so when I left to my mum and dad’s disappointment they told me that if I leave I would have to learn to financially support myself. With my stubborn streak in full force I took them on the challenge and told them I can support myself, after all I was 24, and it was then that my life lessons began!

I started to learn to look at prices when food shopping, I found out where my local launderette was, and the word budget came into this ex-princess vocabulary! Admittingly I found it hard, but I must say after the nights spent eating at home rather than going out, taking the bus instead of cabs, was worth the penny pinching because it made it easier to accept and accommodate the one thing in my budget strict life that could not be changed and that was my love for clothes, shoes and luxury food shopping! I found it hard to utter the word "budget" when it came to shopping for shoes but I did learn the words "window shopping"!

Okay have I made my point, probably not! But do you know something I am happy my parents took the harder road and enforced some independence on me back in my mid 20's because I came to enjoy living the life of a princess on a budget that was set on my terms (instead of my parents who then held the purse strings). I guess my mother was always right, money doesn't grow on trees- and what a way to learn that fact!

LSGS

Chivalry is far from dead

I must say that I am notorious, among my friends, for using my womanly wiles to get what I want from men. For example, the other day I was walking down the street carrying way too many things that I ended up dropping my purse. As I attempted to pick it, I was beaten to it by a cute guy who had, noticing my distress, run up to me and picked it up for me. I must admit I did wait a second longer than I should to see if any gentleman would assist me, and boy was I lucky that it was not a thief who had decided to be so gracious or else I would have felt such a fool.


Another incident occurred when I was in NY. I was walking around on a rather snowy December day, and anyone who knows NY winters knows that they can be harsh. So there I was shopping with my sister in -3 degree weather, I know it was mad to be out on such a day but allow me to add in my defence that just because it is ridiculously cold does not mean I can’t shoe shop. Any who, to continue, I was walking with my sister down 5th when upon seeing the number 5 bus she decided that we should hop on it instead of walking around the slush.


So she waved down the bus, and as our luck would have it, it stopped right in front of a big puddle of brown slush. Fearing my shoes I stood their frozen (and not from the cold) as my sister jumped the puddle and boarded the waiting bus. Trying to decide whether or not to risk my suede boots I was surprised when a hand appeared in front of me. I looked up and lo and behold a man who had been next in queue was kindly offering his hand to help me cross the brown puddle of slush. Feeling like I was in the movie Gone with the Wind, I kindly accepted (whilst trying not call him Rhett Butler). I thanked him with a shy smile as I hopped over the puddle and onto the bus.


Once I was on the nice warm bus I realised that the entire bus and my un-amused sister had been watching me whilst I had stood their (for Lord knows how long) contemplating my dilemma before watching the man offering and then assisting me over the puddle. It was then I realised that not many where impressed- especially the women- about how I had acted.


I do not apologise for allowing gentlemen to assist me when needed. Let the feminists roll in their graves if they must, but if a man offers me his seat I will take it, if a man hands me his handkerchief I will accept it, if a man wants to buy me drink/dinner I will kindly thank him and if a man wants to help me jump over a puddle 18 century style then damn it I am going to take his hand and jump, because romance might be dead but I refuse to accept that chivalry is.


LSGS

Being "Mrs Rocker" has a nice ring to it!

Over a year ago I was introduced to the Kings of Leon and there began my love affair with indie/rock type bands. I have always enjoyed that type of music – due to my sisters’ influence- but I had never really been ‘into to it’. Now I find myself loving the music and more importantly crushing on the sweaty, tattooed, lead singers like Caleb Followill of tKOL

Although I love these tortured souls for their sexy broody ways, I know that they are not the marrying type. I could never bring a sultry, Marlboro lights smoking sexy band singer to my parents home and say "Daddy, mummy, this is my new boyfriend". They would be far from amused and more likely be worried whether their neighbors saw such an undesirable, by their standards, entering their home.

Saying that, I refuse to be deterred. I have already started stocking up on my black eyeliner, laddered tights, and black sexy outfits. My next stop is the marsh pit of rocking gigs where I plan to fight those screaming 20 something’s and teenage groupies just so I can utter the words;

"I am with the band".

LSGS

Single and fabulous seeks partner in crime

I realised something of late, that for me to be able to find Mister Right, or even mister right now I need a partner crime. All my dear friends are either in a relationship or always too busy to go out Sex and the City style-and if I continue to wait for a partner in crime to come along I know that a girl can become an old maid before her time- and that cannot happen to me.

I have contemplated heading out on my own, but I decided that I will probably reek of desperation or I could even, God forbid, be mistaken for a lady of the night.

So I am putting an ad out there into the universe, “Single and fabulous seeks partner in crime” a fantastic fashionista like moi. This individual will be my “wing man” (think Top Gun- Tom Cruise’s character Maverick had wing man Goose- love that movie) who I can go to parties, clubs and even pubs damn it on a regular basis. I miss having a partner in crime, especially since parting ways with an old friend- but let’s not dwell on that.

Any who, if only Miss Kiki (you know who you are) lived in London, I know we will certainly be painting the town red a few nights a week but until she or I cross the pond, I will continue to pine for my very own partner in crime. Lord knows it is getting boring staying in watching TV with a tub of ice cream for company- how sad! I need to be out and about looking in every nook and cranny for my next beau, because I am certain that I am not going to find him in the cracks of my couch amongst lost change and food crumbs.

LSGS

Ewwww are you trying to talk to me?

I know that in my previous posts I have talked about finding my Harry- the slightly unattractive guy who would always love you more than you will him- and settling down, well I certainly did not mean that every ug (short for ugly) can apply.

Even though some of us will never admit to thinking it, we all know our attractive level. We have all looked at a super cute Josh Harnett type and thought either "yes I can have him" or "OMG he is so out of my league". This seems to be something we girls do, but it seems that some men unfortunately do not have this automatic level of attractiveness detector, because if they did why would men who are total toads try to talk to women who are wayyyyy out of their league.

I am not saying that I am so attractive that no man is good enough, what I am saying is that some men sure do have the nerve. Come on now, we have all been there. We will be on the bus minding our own business and reading the London Paper, and then some perve sidles up to you and tries to chat you up. You try to give him the cold "I am not interested" look but he seems immune, you move away as much as you can in a packed bus and he moves right along with you, and just when you feel you about to explode he asks for your number. Those are the men I am referring to.

I can be charitable and give a guy who I might not look twice at a chance, but when an ug decides to give it go then I am sorry my immediate reaction will be "ewwww are you trying to talk to me".


LSGS

Oi Mr Bad boy, show me your tatts!

J'adore tattooed men! I truly do. It is a major turn on for this 30 year old deprived female. A man who has manly type tattoos will always have me whooshing at his feet. Men with tatts are just super sexy to me. Even a man with a face only a mother could love could suddenly become very sexy with strategically placed tattoos.

It has got to the point where I know that I cannot see myself with a man who is lacking the bad boy stamp of approval. All the men I have crushed on are the manly rugby type, but the ones that have won my heart are the ones with the man tatts- love it.

For example the last date I went on was with a NY Fireman- what an amazing date! What made it amazing was the fact that he was not only a hot, preppy and well spoken man but he had not only 1 0r 2 tatts but 3- I was in heaven. He could only show me 2 as number 3 was in a naughty place- giggle- and we where after all in a family restaurant-lol! By the time our dinner came to an end I had turned into mush and I had the urge to whisper drunkenly (you see I had had too much Chianti) "You had me at your first tatt".

So now that my secret desire for tattooed men is out. I can happily continue my quest for a preppy bad boy with a hot body, fantastic personality and sexy tatts- preferably on the back of the neck!

LSGS

...and then there was one!

Seeking ones soul mate is a terribly exhausting job, but the balm is the good friends that I surround myself with. I must say that good friends are the hard to come by, especially the older you get. They are the foundation that holds you together whilst you make your way through the sea of unsuitable men. Besides my beloved sister, who is my heart in many ways, I have a collection of core friends who I truly love. They are the ones who love me with all my faults.


Among them is that one friend who is my BFF. She is the one who plots the death of the man who broke your heart, the one who helps you abuse your credit card limit on shopping trips, the one who you share a bottle of wine and nibbles with whilst watching a chick flick and she’s the one whose company completes you in every way. It is with a friend like this that you know you can withstand the heart ache, tears, and happiness that a man can bring to your life.

Now at 30 I am surprised to be finding myself having the same "then there was one" moment as suffered publically by Lauren Conrad and Heidi Montag of the Hills fame. The BFF I once had is no more. Our 10 year friendship ended without as much as a backward glance- which was the heartbreak of all heartbreaks.


It has now left just me, myself and I for company, as I continue to wonder around the city of Singleton alone searching for Mister Right, but sometimes settling for Mister Right now.



Lauren Conrad and Heidi Montag from the Hills, once Best friends now frenemies- I am defintely team Lauren!

LSGS

Finding my Harry.

When it comes to finding my Harry, I am not referring to a Harry Winston. Yes a lovely diamond from a dream boat of a man to be placed on my left finger would not be rejected, but when I say I seek my Harry I am talking about a man who adores me regardless of all my faults.

Ok, I am probably not making much sense. Cast your mind back to SATC, do you remember when the beautiful Charlotte met her Harry? He was the kind of guy who we all cross the room to avoid. It is because the majority of women are programmed to not give the Harrys of the dating world an opportunity to love us. I mean who wants to introduce a man who is not much to look at to a bunch of judgmental girlfriends?

By not allowing the Harrys into our lives, I do wonder whether we are denying our right to be truly loved Hollywood chick flick style. Think of how Harry loves Charlotte and all her neuroses. Her taking a chance on Harry, made me realise that my perfect man might not come wrapped up as a 6ft2 tall, dark and handsome but instead could be a quirky, cute adorable man.

I loved that Charlotte, who had married what she, and the majority of us women, considered her perfect match Trey; ended up happily married to a man she would normally not have looked at twice- her Harry.

So it is on this note that I am going to try and not judge a book by its cover or else I will miss my chance to meet my very own Harry who I know will really love me in a way that every woman deserves to be loved- unconditionally.

LSGS

The only 'gay' in the village?

Sometimes I feel like I am truly the last single girl standing, like the only "gay" in the village-metaphorically speaking of cause - to hijack little Britain's phrase, among the many London couples.

With the majority of my female friends partnered up to men they adore, I feel rather alien being 'the single one' among a sea of smiley couples.

I have to confess that I have been waiting for the perfect man since I discovered boys at around 15. Now 15 years later, I am 30 and I feel that my need for mister right has reached its peak. I now have the urge to marry, settle down and make beautiful babies with my beautiful husband.

I no longer feel the need to prance around fashion parties in my ridiculously high Choo's, sipping champagne and nibbling on canapés whilst worrying about remaining thin and fabulous. I want, actually allow me to re-phrase; I need to find "the one". Where the hell is he?

I know no one can answer that question but I know that if mister right doesn’t shows up soon, the anxious looks from my parents will never stop. I fear that they will always give me pitying looks that say loud and clear " we worry that you will always be on the shelf and will therefore never find and marry a suitable young man from a respectable family".

It does not help that my fears are strengthened every week when my father calls me to question whether "there is a nice young man on the horizon?", and every week my answer does not change- "no dad, not today".

So what’s a girl to do? One friend suggested that I should burn all my chick flick DVDs. She reasoned that I should not learn my lessons on love from such movies, because such love only exists in Hollywood films, but I cannot bring myself to get rid of my beloved dvds. They are my life line; I mean how I would go on if I cannot watch Sense and Sensibility whilst sobbing over love and eating copious amounts of Ben Jerry's Chunky Monkey.

Lastly, "one day my prince will come" and he better be worth the wait, because I know that I did not wait this long for a frog to turn up, because Lord knows I could have had one of those a long time ago.

LSGS