dadgummit

DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT

Everyone else wants to celebrate the 4th of July and they (I know who) dump main [I'm not telling what] duty on American Boy as calls still come in from [somewhere they don't celebrate the 4th] - so no do-dah at the American Amb.'s residence tonight. Yes, that was the upcoming event I withheld last week. Poo. He is not happy with his boss (whom I met at the marines party *ahem* - suffice it to say that when I misbehave Am Boy threatens to give him my number, hehe! (Gosh, I wonder if he knows we are an item and is doing this on purpose...)) and he is very pee'd off about this evening. He's been doing the work of 3 people for the past couple of weeks, plus someone keeps putting him on duty roster on weekends (haha, let's guess who), plus the recent "situations" in London...hence not much going out and more staying in, and now this.

(Man, being cryptic is a new thing for me.)

Whilst walking to the Emb., he made a long apologetic phone call about his recent preoccupation and long hours, and wants to make it up to me over the next couple of weeks after colleagues, plus his secretary, return from vacation and things settle back down. He sounded a lot more like himself again and looked forward to the things we will do and places we will go. I too apologised for any recent inconsistencies. Both of us are under quite a bit of stress.

Like I said...the joys of serving one's country.

(I know, I snuck a blog in after I said I wouldn't!)

Freaky Friday

Bloody hell. Have you ever posted a personals ad online? And depending on the site, got absolutely nothing except on the first day or two when you turn up at the top of the new members list, or a flood of everything the opposite of what you asked for? Including some pretty naff-looking guys, despite their well-written responses. Or one-liners like Joey's "How you doin'?". Or a reply in text-speak from someone who calls himself educated, u no wot i mn. Or barely legible English.

I don't think they actually read my ad...Probably zero in on one phrase, one word, or just the pic.

So what happens to all the smartly turned out cuties I pass in the street?

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And have you noticed I'm not averse to discussing the obstacle course of dating now? Some people dedicate their entire blog to it. I'd never do that to you. It would not be cool.


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Have you also noticed how in old spy thrillers, the baddies conveniently have no peripheral vision so the goodies can get away with doing stuff in it?

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Saturday Update:

So, a day after the ad posting plus a second slightly different one, these are the results:

1) foreigners with barely a smattering of English probably playing a numbers game as they send out a few terrible lines with their phone number and a photo that looks like it was taken in 1983 - either that or some overly sentimental claptrap
2) a copy and paste of their own personals ad, rather than an email to ME
3) a photo with merely the line: if u like this mail me bak
4) old guys who look old
5) English guys with barely a smattering of English
6) more guys playing the numbers game who have sent the same cut and paste reply to both my ads, probably not even realising they replied to the first one
7) one who said it's a shame he was in another country but would think of me when playing with himself
8) hate mail for anything or everything I've said

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Oh, and I never hear back from the ones I am really interested in. This is not new, it has been happening for years, and it happens whether I am on my best behaviour or just being myself.

I cannot tell you how fed up I am of the world and everyone in it.

The Week So Far

I don't usually blog on a Friday because people don't check blogs so much on weekends. It's a break from work, more often than not. Isn't it? You lazy bunch!

But I have had a goodish week and will have a better weekend, so there is much catching up to do.

First of all, when I left the insurance co this evening, they said they hoped it had not been too boring for me - probably because I got the work done sooo fast. I made no comment because it really had been. When another secretary said she hopes to see me soon, I laughed and she said, "Unless you get a job first!" Seriously, this was the first office I most definitely could not consider working at - insurance is not half as interesting as capital markets (I never thought I would say that), and I found myself missing the audio job I had last year in the City.

Secondly, on Tuesday my dear friends Diva and Nags sent me a lavish bouquet because being nearly admitted to hospital, she tearfully informed me that she is unable to attend my party. It is such a big bunch of flowers that my landlady is happy to host them on the dining room table in a Lalique vase.



I have other parcels arriving in the post in the next few days from all over the place. Unfortunately, my guest list is so reduced that it will be a very quiet affair, rather than an all out dinner.

Secondly, I got a call two days after an email (which I had not replied to) from a publishing co - I had emailed my CV in for a job ad in their interior design section. I have never been chased up before and it's great. So I told him what writing sample I would send, and I appreciated the fact that he said I had the sort of CV they were looking for, and that even though I hadn't written about interiors, my art history skills were certainly transferrable. ABOUT TIME someone said that: transferrable.


Thirdly, Thursday was my favourite day because I got to meet up with Mr Gorgous Eyes again, you know, the one from Saturday. I must say, for a guy he keeps in touch really well. Like, every day. Awesome eh!

It was an adventure. I walked from Tower Hill to Blackfriars to kill the time until he got off work. I carried my camera with me and took photos, by the way, but the day was so hazy that I wasn't that trigger-happy.



I stopped at House of Fraser (didn't know there was one in the City) to pick up some face lotion, and 5 minutes after I left, I realised she hadn't given my debit card back. I ran like the wind; fortunately, she had used the till in a quiet corner and no one had even been there since I left, and it was still there. Whew. Well, after that little adrenaline rush, I had a huge slump and it took a lot of effort to make it to Blackfriars, especially as I was along the river and kept doubling back looking for the exit to the station. And out of 8 exits, I happened to use the exact one where he was waiting, about to text.

We chattered away like a couple of, well, chatty people, and walked to the destination I had chosen, Smithfield Market. I had been there before and enjoyed the restoration of the Victorian structure and the cool bars and restaurants inside. As soon as we got to the area, it felt wrong. We walked around and around, checked the map, asked some people, and then gave up. It must have been another market (Leadenhall, I found out later).

We decided it would be much better to head to familiar territory so we got on the Tube and went to Bond Street, only we didn't end up there (third disaster) - we both swore we ran to the southbound Jubilee train before the doors closed, but for some reason ended up in St John's Wood. So back we went, and found a tiny Turkish restaurant at St Christopher's Place. In the train he said he liked halloumi, and lo and behold there was some grilled on the starters menu. Squeaky Cypriot cheese, which I like to put in pasta - when it's hot it's really squeaky.

Sea bream, calamari, wine - and check out the lamps on the ceiling. They were dense:



It was the same behind me. Fortunately, Eyes is sufficiently obscured by the darkness and he remains a mystery!

But as more wine was imbibed the company got louder and we were shouting to be heard, so we tried to go somewhere for coffee and dessert. The creperie was closing; Carluccios only had space at the bar, so we left; Pizza Express kicked us out because they don't serve only dessert when it is busy...

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Shit, I really am utterly disappointed. Someone else just called to cancel. After a promising start to the week...there are only two or three people guaranteed to turn up at the dinner, and possibly three or four more for the drinks. This is after starting with a list of 17 and getting 10 to accept. Half of them are out of the country, the others are sick or have prior engagements, but those latter will try to come along at some point.

Lydia says we could ditch the restaurant, but the stragglers might turn up. We can laugh about it, she says. Hm...if anyone can make me laugh, it's her.

On a lighter note, Christopher (who also can't be there) and his mum sent me a cheque for £30. What memorable item should I purchase with it?

banging head against brick wall

Yet again I have been disappointed. Yet again. Is there some law against me meeting anyone?

The guy who waited for me last week, who promised to be there when I came back, who kept in touch while I was away, and agreed to meeting up this week has let me down. He says his personal circumstances have changed and that he felt bad telling me, but he didn't want to mislead. At least he told me, usually they just disappear and I am left holding my breath for days.

This was the first time I gave my number voluntarily to anyone. For once I felt no intimidation because we have so much in common, are both expats, share similar tastes, and he even looks perfect for me. Have you ever read emails that made you applaud after every paragraph? We couldn't wait to meet. He was nothing like the usual types I come across.

I am so fed up, I don't even know what to think anymore. What a mood to approach my 30th birthday.