The X-Factor

Why do things get so complicated when there's an ex involved? It's bad enough when your date spits out this blasphemy on a first encounter, but when it prevents you from moving on with a potential mate, there is definitely no room for lift off.

If you read my last post, you may have twigged that I am of course talking about my recent romantic encounter. Or not so romantic as it turns out. I left you in somewhat of a dilemma, not knowing whether I should swallow my pride and contact my date after 24 hours of silence, or to play the waiting game.

Well seeing as though I've never been good at games, I went for the previous. I text my date on Tuesday asking when we should next meet, seeing as I hadn't heard a peep from him since Sunday afternoon. Usually I wouldn't have run the risk, after all what's the point in building yourself up to then be bitterly disappointed, but I blew caution to the wind and did it.

After all he was giving me all the right signals, up until Sunday, texting me as soon as the date was over, arranging another date. He seemed keen, and then just sort of fizzled out. So it was curiosity more than anything than urged me to initiate further communication.

You know what they say about curiosity.........well, they are right. I received a brutally honest response. Something on the lines of, his ex being back in touch with him and not wanting to make any arrangements with me that he may have to break. At least I got some form of reply, but it got me thinking: When is ever a good time to date when there is an ex still lurking?

As far as I was concerned, he told me it was over for a good 5 months previous to our meeting, and it was him who was chasing me. From personal experience, sometimes it's hard for the other party to let go. But if you've already let go, then that shouldn't be an issue. So I was clearly a rebound date for this boy to decide whether or not he was truly over his old flame. Obviously the torch was still being carried, and me, I was just left to burn out in the dark.

For my first date in a year, this doesn't bode well for future encounters, and for the time being, just for the record, I am completely off men!

A trip to Boots and an Irish Coffee

Look at me, I'm posting for a second time today!
After my rant about the parking ticket I forgot all about the interesting things that have happened to me recently.
I went on a date on Saturday!!

I may not have mentioned it much, but I am currently single, and have been for some time now (1 whole year, not that I'm counting) so the whole dating scene is relatively new and my flirting skills are rusty to say the least!

So how did this occur? For a little pocket money I work at a local bar at the weekend, last Friday was like any other. I finished my day job, went home, had a nap and off to work I went. The job is OK I suppose, it's really easy and the tips are great. The night was dragging and until about ten, between three of us, I think we had served something like 10 drinks combined...

.........And then like one of those scenes in those romantic films, the boy appeared. I'm sure 'Wet, wet, wet' were playing in the background.
I knew I had to serve him. I made a B Line for him and even forgot to give the previous customer their change. This may sound desperate, but come on, I was bored and it's been a while.........
Anyway very surprisingly, he asked me for my number. This was a strange occurrence, as apart from only attracting men in their winter years, I never seem to get much attention. And I have to say the guy was HOT!

So we exchanged pleasantries and numbers, of course, and left it at that. Ever the pessimist I didn't think that he would ever get in touch. But surprisingly he called the next day. I never know what to say over the phone, especially to a good enough stranger. Somehow we managed to arrange a half date. We decided to go into town and have a potter around, maybe go for coffee.

This came into fruition, and we bumped in to each other in Boots. Of all places! As if my nerves weren't in tatters enough, we continued to look around the store aimlessly until I found the escape route, sorry, door.

After some small talk, and an Irish coffee, I found that this boy was a model once. And quite a successful one at that. Modelling in I-D and Drapers I might add. Clearly he is out of my league.

After the date we kissed and he texted me shortly after, arranging another date the following day.

However as it happens, this never materialised and after texting him to try and resolve some dignity and boost my ego he responded with a really blase response asking to meet up during the week, I text back confirming this plan and it was left at that.

But what do I do now? Its been a whole 24 hours. Was the date really that bad? What is the etiquette when it comes to contacting a potential mate? Do I wait for him, or do I act all new agey and ballsy and take the plunge? Obviously these questions will never be answered as still, no followers.

I suppose I will just have to keep my fingers crossed.

That's not fine

Since I passed my driving test at 19, I have four times been a victim to parking wardens and their sadistic fetish for fining people when parked, as they describe it, illegally. My first parking ticket was fair game as I was over the time limit by two hours, it still didn't prevent me from shedding a tear and trying to find someone to justify my actions to. My most recent brush with the 'law' was two weeks ago, and in my defence, it couldn't be helped.

On the rare occasion that I bring my car to work, on this particular day I was running late so it was a convenience that I had to take, the car park was full so I had to meter feed. Which only allows parking for a period of 2 hours. In which time I had been dragged in to a very important meeting that could not be disturbed (it was about the works Christmas party and whether we were to have a free bar or not). As I say, every minute had to be taken.

I came out of the meeting in a frantic panic with cold beads of sweat dripping from my forehead as the realisation sunk in that I was over by........10 minutes.

Maybe I would be lucky enough to escape the evil clutches of the meter man this time? I ran to my car and there it was, staring back at me, with a smug little grin stuck right in the middle of my windscreen. The yellow and black ticket that would rip me off of £25.

Why are they so sticky too? I discretely tried to rip it off without any one seeing, but the little bugger just wouldn't shift. Not only was it an eyesore but it was to leave my window with a tacky rim. Anyway I paid the fine today. So I am still a little bitter. As well as lighter in the pocket.

I sometimes Drift off

I often use my bedroom window as a vent for daydreaming. Sometimes the sky reflects my mood. So I suppose the below picture tells you that my mood was in a state of blissful ignorance. Just happy to be sat looking at the pretty colours that nature can conjur up.

Pretty Colours.......

The View from my bedroom window, Idyllic

A Little Bit About Me

This is me trying to be vaguely cool at Bingley Festival

(wearing blue trousers)

OK, so I thought I would take a different tact on the whole blogging thing. Relatively new to the whole idea, I feel I have neglected my page, with the rare 500 word outburst of bits of things that I have done for other people, its still looking embarassingly sparce. As you may have guessed, if you frequent my site, I am an aspiring journalist. From the fact that I currently have no followers, it seems I have someway to go, should I want to etch some form of career into my life.





I was thinking how I could fix this and make things happen, to hopefully get me some recognition. And my answer was, make my blog more personable. Afterall, journalists are supposed to connect with their audience, so i suppose you would need to know a little more about me. Other than the very vague and not so poignant snippets in my profile.





At the moment I am in a little bit of a cross roads in my life, I graduated last year and went straight into a job at my local newspaper. Ideal! You may think. It would be, should I have landed on my feet as a fully fledged roving reporter, fresh faced and naive to the big bad world of newspaper journalism. Alas, I should be so lucky, instead I work in the advertising department as a business development staff.





Don't be fooled by the fancy job title, it's basically an embelishment to avoid being referred to as a 'salesperson'. Long story short, I have to sell advertising space. Which in our current financial demise, is not easy. The job doesn't suit me, and despite having free roam to the internet and an endless supply of free tea and coffee, I find it mind numbingly monotonous. And the pay packet at the end of the month does not make up for it.





I innocently applied for role thinking it would be a shoe in to become part of the editorial staff, and after a brief stint of work experience, my dream still hasn't been realised. So I now write some freelance stuff, for free, for various fashion blogs, which will hopefully make me rich with experience if anything.





So stuck in a dead end job, and still living with my parents at the age of 22, I wouldn't exactly class my self as Britains answer to Carrie Bradshaw, but slowly but surley I will get to where I want to be. Hard work is something I am not afraid of, which is lucky as I am not the type of person who tends to land on their feet on a regular basis.