The Spark, or, the elusive deal maker.

2012 has had a bit of a struggling start; lots of trying to get dates and to no avail. However, I haven't been all that bothered to be honest - I'm getting a bit sick of the cyclical nature of online dating, and this year has been so busy already that I've kind of just been focusing on enjoying myself and seeing what happens. I've still been doing things to get myself out there but it doesn't feel so exciting anymore for some reason.

So in mid March I had my first actual date of 2012.. it's not for want of trying, I've joined OKCupid, done speed dating and been to a couple of Lovestruck events - but alas, no joy yet. And then I got a nice message the other week and all was well! After a few exchanges he suggested meeting for a drink, and as I keep suggesting this to other guys and then receiving absolutely nothing in return, I was pleasantly surprised.

So, who is he? In a nutshell, he's Australian, my age, works in investments, and does a bit of illustrating on the side. So far, pretty good. We had a lovely date on a sunny sunday afternoon in Carnaby St; went to Cha Cha Moon (which is lovely, if you're ever looking for a place to go) for some noodles and conversation. We got on really well, I could tell he seemed a bit nervous though, he later told me this was his first ever online date! So we chatted a bit about that, and the terrible messages you seem to get on sites like these; he was cute but I definitely didn't feel an amazing attraction to him, physically.

After the food we went to a pub nearby for a drink, we seemed to be getting on pretty well, wasn't really any awkward silences or anything. But at the same time, there wasn't really any electricity or flirting either, just a pleasant time. At about 5 ish he suddenly said he had to go as he was cooking dinner for his housemates. This was a bit baffling seeing as he'd just eaten with me but nevermind. We said goodbye (no kiss - I wasn't feeling it, clearly neither was he) and that was that.

I left it for a few days, and after a week I realised neither of us had spoken after the date. Not a great sign. So I text saying hello, a bit of a conversation was had, but it just kind of fizzled out. No texts since. I'm not bothered, he's clearly not either, but it's funny; you can get on so well with someone but if there isn't that 'spark' then it just won't happen, no matter how nice they are.

A similar thing happened this week; I went on a date on tuesday with someone from OkCupid, we'd been chatting for weeks and weeks, and he finally asks me for a drink. To be honest, when the day came I really couldn't be bothered; it was raining, I was tired, and I'd met someone at the weekend (more on that later), but I'd agreed to go, and in keeping with the whole thing, I went with optimism and a smile on my face. Also, we were meeting in a pub a mere 5 minutes bus from my house so that helped a lot! Unfortunately, as soon as I saw him I knew it wasn't meant to be. It was a case of his profile pictures looking so much better than he did in real life, which can happen, but it was a shame. However, we sat for a couple of drinks, had a laugh, he seemed a really interesting, nice guy, I just wasn't attracted to him from the off. Annoying, but there's not a lot you can do. After a couple of hours I made my excuses (I had to get up early the next day too, early start at work) and headed back. Again, no kiss, as it just didn't feel right.

The next day I got a text off him saying "I had a nice time last night but I don't think the vibe is quite right between us for anything to happen, all the best" - which I was a bit 'oh' at. It's funny, because I completely agreed, but it's that whole 'I wanted to say that first, not you!' thing; illogical, yes, but I felt a bit weird that he felt like that. Perhaps it was my subconscious ego thinking, 'how dare you not fall madly in love with me on a first date, never mind that I don't like you, of course you would think me amazing!' Or some other silly notion. In hindsight, actually, it was really nice of him to text me and say that - so many people (including myself, I'll admit) will choose to just stop texting rather than say that. At least I knew from the outset where I stand now and I don't have to waste time, if indeed I did like him. I replied saying thanks, maybe see you around, etc. Standard.

The point in all this, is that I'm talking about The Spark - that elusive deal maker or breaker that you can't explain, you can't quantify, but you either have it with a person or you don't. On paper, both of these dates should have been great, and Australian guy was pretty attractive too; but that feeling just wasn't there. Even though we'd been chatting for a while before both of these dates, you just can't tell a person until you actually meet them, I think. Which is where I think the whole online dating thing is flawed. You can put so much time and effort into a person before you really know them, and the pressure of a first date is immense; even if you don't fancy each other when you meet, it's hard to just be friends from that because the initial meeting was based on potential romance. You can meet someone in real life and be friends or perhaps more, but I find it quite difficult to maintain a contact with someone if the first date hasn't gone amazingly.

Par example; last saturday (as I said earlier) I met one of my housemate's* friends, who'd come up with a few others for the weekend to visit him. I'd never met him before but essentially he was just in my living room when I came home so I sat down and chatted with them all, a cup of tea turned into a few beers and suddenly I was coming out for the night with them all. I must admit, Alex, as we shall call him, was completely hot and I thought that as soon as I met him, but genuinely didn't think anything of it, he either probably had a gf or wouldn't have been interested in little me. BUT. He was! I know! You could probably see the glee from my face from a mile off. Basically, we were just chatting loads all night, and The Spark, whatever the hell it is, was 100% there. And then (many drinks and much later) he kissed me - and seriously, it's been years, years since I've felt like that. Teenage rush of drunken need and bad judgement. Hurrah! He was staying at our house anyway so things just kind of happened that way... and without going into too much detail (this isn't THAT kind of blog) my dreaded 3 year curse has been lifted. You can't image the relief. Someone actually thought me attractive enough/minimally annoying to want to sleep with me. I genuinely thought it would never happen again.

(Ladies: Side note. Not having sex for three years causes all kinds of things to... tighten up. Oh good god. It wasn't as bad as the first time... but yeah the initial bit was... surprising. And Christ, I was nervous. Genuinely had forgotten how nerve wracking the whole thing is. I'm sure I was terrible. Very out of practice, of course.)

*This is the housemate I have a slight massive crush on, which he can NEVER know because a) I'm pretty sure he wouldn't like me back b) we live together c) he doesn't want a gf d) we live together and e) WE LIVE TOGETHER. Bad times. It's a shame but I'm OK with lusting from afar. Besides, we actually get on really really well, and his friendship means so much to me, I would never want to ruin it by telling him how I actually feel. It's all very sad. I think I do quite a good job of hiding it though, hopefully soon I'll stop feeling this way.

It crossed my mind a few days later that I may have inadvertently ruined it anyway with said wonderful housemate by sleeping with his friend. Cue panic. But, logic tells me that he's never going to know I like him anyway so it wouldn't matter. If, by some miracle, he likes me, and he found out I liked him, I don't think a one night stand is going to get in the way... right? Hmm. Alex was lovely but I didn't even get his number so it's not like that at all. I'd quite like a guy's opinion on that actually. Would you be put off a girl if you knew she had a random thing once with one of your mates?

Anyway, that's a massive detour. Housemate and I will never happen. End of. In the meantime, yay for sex!

In conclusion, the spark is something which you can't determine. If there wasn't a spark with Alex, I would never ever have slept with him. But I know what it was and what it wasn't; in fact I'm quite happy for it to have been a one time thing; I think I've surprised myself with my maturity over it. Three years ago I would have been all 'Omg he's so hot I want to see him again, maybe we'll get together and get married' and now, for once, I'm completely happy being single. So long as I keep meeting hot guys like him and there isn't another 3 year drought then that's fine...

Review: Old Fashioned Dating Event, 22nd Feb

So, as I posted the other day, I went to the launch event of Old Fashioned Dating at the Shadow Lounge in Soho on Wednesday night. Having never been to a speed dating night before, and not really ever having the desire to, I was invited to this and was pleased to discover it was billed as 'speed dating with a difference - the old fashioned way', which was essentially, that you are matched beforehand by answering a few questions about yourself and who you'd like to meet. You're then given a card with 10 names on at the beginning of the night who you hopefully have something in common with, thereby eliminating the whole awkward-5-minutes with someone who is completely not your type.

So off I trotted to Soho, not really knowing what to expect, but hoping to have a bit of fun! I was also really looking forward to the Burlesque show after, having never seen it before but definitely appreciating the female form ;)
I got there, and the first thing I noticed was that I was probably one of the youngest there... so definitely hoped some younger guys would turn up; I was a bit worried that perhaps speed dating is for slightly older-ish people. I got myself a drink, sat down in the nearest booth and started chatting to a couple of girls who had come together (note to self: bring a friend next time, it's much more fun if you get to compare notes!) who worked in PR. They were really nice, and we were just chatting about our shared dating woes etc. It was good to meet some fellow ladies who were in a similar boat.

The evening started out a little late as some people arrived late and we had to wait until everyone got there otherwise the matches wouldn't, er... match up. I think my suggestion for the next event would be to start it at 6.30 or 7pm instead of 6... I found it a struggle to get there in time, and I'm only 15 minutes on a bus from Soho. I think there was also a bit of confusion for some people as their dates hadn't turned up and some people seemed to be missing people or have completely blank cards. Obvious teething problems though, nothing that disastrous.

So as I said, we were all given 10 names, with a number next to it - that determined the location of the date (i.e 1 was by the bar, 2 next to that, etc etc all the way round the room) so when it says you have Mr xx at 23 you go and sit at 23 and wait until he finds his way around the room.

True to the ethos of this blog, I can't name names, and thinking up of 10 alternative names is just going to be confusing, so we'll just refer to the guys by their running order. Ok? Here we go..

#1 didn't turn up. This happened to a few people, so there were a few boys and girls sitting around with no date. This was OK, I'm alright at sitting on my own, and it was only a couple of minutes. I actually got chatting to the guy next to me, who turned out to be my #10. It was a bit weird, slightly 'Oh, shouldn't be talking to you yet! Save the best til last! Ho ho ho' etc, and he was nice, an Actor, Darling, but I was thinking, hmmm not totally looking forward to my 5 minutes with you, bit flamboyant for me! In front of me however, busying himself on his first date, was a rather fit guy, who I was really hoping was on my card for later. Time would tell...

#2 was a graphic designer, like moi, and a really nice guy. The dates go by SO fast so you're only just loosening up and getting past the 'what do you do for a living' questions by the time you have to move on. We had things to talk about though and he was quite funny, although a bit beard-y. I don't have a problem with beards per se, but I dunno. They're a bit scary. Would definitely see him again though.

#3 Also didn't turn up. Bit annoying. But while I was waiting for him, another guy approached me, who didn't seem to have anyone on his cards at all, slight clerical error there I imagine. He turned out to actually be my #9, so again we did the whole 'Oh better not talk to you then ho ho ho' but he seemed nice. I wasn't that attracted to him physically on first impressions, and isn't that what speed dating is all about? Never mind.

#4 ALSO didn't turn up. By this point I was on date 4 and had only had 1 of them. Not the fault of the organisers I'm sure, just bad luck on my part. While I was sitting all forlorn and alone (clocking fit guy from before, hoping he was on my card later..) another guy came to sit with me, who was clearly older. Much older. Like, 40. After a quick 'Do we have a date later? No?' we started chatting - I had no real interest in him but actually, he was really nice. A bit like talking to a friend of your dad's, admittedly, but still, nice. Hhe was a bit 'I've got my own business, we're really successful' which made me chuckle internally (some women go for that, I don't. Not yet anyway. Give me twenty years), but all in all, a pleasant bloke. I hope he found someone that night. It wasn't me, however.

#5 had dreads, which in itself isn't a big deal but after the lack of #4 and older guy I was a bit 'OMG a slightly alternative, cool guy, hurrah!' so perhaps launched in a bit strong. He was a great conversationalist, although slightly angry/pessimistic - he was telling me all about how he's a carer for his brother (which is wonderful) but how the council have screwed him over so now he has to quit his job and he only found out on monday... etc. A normally really interesting topic, and terrible for him too, but I felt the anger was a bit raw still and I didn't have a lot to say to his ranting. On a normal date I would have listened and discussed intently but in the space of a few minutes, it's quite a difficult topic. Nerves and all that though, I'm sure. I'm sure normally he's a great guy, was probably just an off day for him. Shame.

#6 was HILAR. Actually so funny. I didn't fancy him in the slightest but he was really great to talk to. He's a librarian, which isn't that amusing, but was telling some great stories. He also had a question, which I assume some people must do, have a random question they ask everyone on a speed date in case conversation dries up/get away from work. His question was 'If you had to have a sound effect for when you walked into a room what would it be?' to which I answered, incomprehensibly, an explosion. I don't know why I said that. KABOOM. But yeah. His was the Star Wars Imperial March thingy. Says it all really. Wouldn't see him again but thoroughly made me smile!

#7 turned out to be HOT GUY yeah! At first I thought it was another no-show, as I was sat in a booth with #10 (theatre luvvie) and his date, and they were getting on, and it was A-W-K-W-A-R-D so I got up to get a drink. When I came back, #7 finally turned up. Hurrah! He was from South Africa and we only had a couple of minutes together because he was late coming over but I managed to make him laugh within about 20 seconds (score) and we clicked straight away. I thought so anyway. All too soon our turn was over and we were both a bit sad. We were then told that because the event had started late, and the Burlesque show was about to start, we had to end it there! Boo. And those that hadn't booked tickets for the show had to leave, but there were after drinks at a nearby pub. Turned out #7 hadn't got tickets so had to go; I did, and thought it a shame to not watch the Burlesque, so let him go off to the pub. Perhaps I should have gone with him? We'll never know.

As I said, I'd already met my #9 and #10 anyway so didn't actually feel too cheated, and I met up with the PR girls afterwards who said that one of them had #8 and he wasn't all that, so perhaps I didn't miss out. It was good to dissect our dates a bit and we seemed to agree on the people we had shared!

The Burlexe show started soon after, and my, what a show. It was a mix of song, monologue and striptease, and I'll have to say, felt quite feminist/empowering. More for the ladies perhaps. Anyway, I was sitting in a booth with the PR girls when 3 guys asked if they could sit with us because everywhere was full. We said fine, but I don't think they had really thought about it, or knew what they were letting themselves into, because I think they quickly realised the awkwardness of the situation of watching naked girls dance with 3 unknown young girls with them. I felt awkward anyway... These guys must have been late 30s/40ish. I was having a great time, it was really interesting, the dancing and the monologues, but I don't think they had quite realised it was going to be like that; they looked like they just wanted to be in a place where they could shout 'TITS! Yeah' and ogle ass cracks (ha) but this was definitely more of a high-brow, intellectual event. Lots of stories about the founders of Burlesque and the hardships they had to go through, etc. One of the dancers was a transvestite (a very good one, I might add, really funny) and one of the guys kept speaking to me, and at one part asked if 'Trannies still have their tackle?!' with a slight panicked voice. I don't know, I said, (nor did I care, he's[she's? argh] got great tits. Look at them!) I suspect that the man in the booth with me cared though, a lot, and I thought, "you're in Soho, surely you should expect this a bit?"
Edit: You might have come to this post through the Burlexe facebook page (hello!) and apparently it's being questioned if she actually WAS a transvestite; I apologise, I definitely recall the dancer being introduced as the 'best transvestite in London' but maybe I misheard. Anyway. It was great. Argh! Minefield.

Anyway, it got to the interval and the girls I was sitting with said they were going to leave as they were going to dinner, nice to meet you, etc. Bye, I said. I then suddenly thought - if they go, I'll be here alone. With these guys, in this awkward situation. In this booth. Argh. So I had to leave too, even though I wanted to watch the rest. Never mind. Hopefully I'll get a chance to see it again, with some girlfriends and we can all have a giggly night!

So all in all? A good night. Not sure if I'll do speed dating again for a while; it maybe feels like something to do in your late twenties and onwards, perhaps not for me yet. But I had a great time, and maybe I'll see #7 again. Who knows?

Edit Edit: #7 wants my number! Breaking News! Exciting Announcement! Etc. So we shall see.... who will text first? It's all very exciting. 

Old Fashioned Dating at The Shadow Lounge

Just a heads up on an event I've been invited to tomorrow night - the ladies tickets are sold out now I think but fellas there's still some space for you! This actually looks great.

The Old Fashioned Dating Company.

For cool modern people with old fashioned values looking for friendship and romance - It's a journey back to 1930s courting. 

You will have 10 dates on your dating card which will be pre-matched by a real old fashioned dating professional.

You can then stay for the utter fabulous show that is BURLEXE:

Burlexe is one of the most original shows of it's type in town with an all female cast mixing top burlesque performers (Fancy Chance, Kiki Kaboom and Luna Rosa) with talented actresses performing burlesque monologues all held together seemlessly by r'n'b whip cracking songstress hostess with the mostress Kele Le Roc.
www.burlexe.co.uk

 Tickets are £32 for dating and show

£11 for dating only - tickets here http://oldfashioneddating.eventbrite.com/

The Old Fashioned Dating company believes that with matchmaking, backwards is the way forwards.
We encourage you to listen, laugh and chat in a world of sophistation, entertainment, music and dancing.
The good old days are back.

Doors open for The Old Fashioned Dating launch at 6.00pm
Dating starts at 6.30 sharp
Show starts 8.00pm
Carriages at 11.00pm ish

"The launch event of Old Fashion Dating takes its inspiration from 1930s courting, mixing old school matchmaking with (gentle) speed-dating, all followed by a cracking burlesque show.The ‘old fashioned’ aspect will see a dating expert match-make applicants ahead of the event, based on their answers to a questionnaire completed on booking. Each attendee will receive a sealed dating card on arrival containing information about their 10 handpicked dates. Interviews will be gently marshalled over an hour or so you can spend some time getting to know each one."

Sounds really exciting! Can't wait to go. I will of course dissect the evening's events right here on my blog afterwards... watch this space!

Possibly the greatest first date of all time.

At least I actually wore shoes.

Last week, I got a message on Tastebuds. This isn't a rare event, I get them a lot. This one however, was normal. No weird quips, gags or strange questions. Just a hello, how are you, fancy going for a coffee? Also, the guy was hot. And I mean, I actually sat up in my chair and said 'Well hello!' out loud, hot. This, does not normally happen.

I replied straight away. Of course. We had a few back and forth messages over the space of a couple of hours, seemed to have a lot of things in common, swapped numbers, and arranged a date. For the following Thursday. So far... so ridiculously, incredibly easy. Did I mention he was hot? He was hot. I couldn't actually believe my luck. We shall call him Ben. He suggested a German bar near London Bridge, unless I fancied something else. No, I love the Germans, let's do that. Perfect; he had suggested a place thus taking control, but also left it open in case I protested. Tick.

Thursday came. It was pouring it down. I was wearing stupid brogues with a lace panel in them (like so) so I had wet feet by the time it came to the date. (I didn't reveal I had damp feet throughout the date. I've learned this is not acceptable first date talk.) We met at London Bridge station, and when I finally spotted him over the mass of umbrellas, he was giving a foreign couple detailed instructions on how to use the Jubilee line. Waiting patiently to say hello, my first thought was not 'Hurry up it's raining', it was 'Oh look at him being all polite and helpful, that's so lovely, <3 <3' and other teenage thoughts. Seriously.

Said foreign couple scampered off and we said hello. Did I tell you he was hot? Hot IRL too. Even avec umbrella. We walked down Borough High St and came to the destination, which I'd never even heard of - but it was great. A barely-noticeable door leads down into what is essentially an underground, bright, jolly, German themed pub. Wooden benches, german beer, barmen in lederhosen, the lot. I have no idea what it's called though, I was too busy staring at Ben's wonderful face talking animatedly about bands we both like. Turns out pretty much every festival I've been to, he was there. We like all the same music. Talked about work, annoying housemates, snowboarding, cancer (note to self, stop talking about cancer on first dates, FFS), films, Uni, the woes of not being at Uni anymore, many other things. He bought the drinks, we drank them, before I knew it, it was 9.30. Literally been chatting for hours and didn't even realise. He suggested moving on to somewhere else, so we did. I did not want to go home, whatsoever. Also, side note, why do people suggest moving on? It's not a pubcrawl. I have no problem with it, I was just cosy, and frankly didn't want to go out in the rain. Interesting.

We went on to some sort of chain pub down the road, had another drink (I bought this one, only fair) and carried on. Genuinely did not feel like a first date, we had so much to talk about. I remember somehow getting on to the subject of best ever Playstation games and talking about FF7 for a while. He seemed staggered I could converse on such geeky topics. If only he knew. Amazing. Threw in a bit of Metal Gear Solid for luck too. (Both equal, best ever Playstation games in my opinion.)

Basically, the date could not have gone better, given my past luck in first dates through Tastebuds. He walked me back to the station, and there was kissing. Oh yes. And this time, not strange, first date awkward kissing, but a proper, decent, I think I just died a bit inside kiss. Not too intense, but there was effort there. Essentially a very good first kiss. I was a bit giddy. This could also be due to the fact that I was indecently drunk - 3 large glasses of red wine on no dinner. He gets a slight minus point for getting me drunk. Actually, no, he doesn't.

We parted and I half sauntered/stumbled/glided on to my train, no doubt with the most sly, drunkard grin on my face. Best. Date. Evah.

The issue next, of course, was if/when to text, and if there was to be a second date. There MUST be. There's no way he could not have also felt we really clicked. I text him the very next day (Dangerous! But it had to be done) and said I had a lovely time, etc, let's do it again. And he replied. And agreed. Said we 'gelled'. Yes. Yes we did hot man.

I left it over the weekend, then realised on monday that the only free night I had for 8 solid days (blame Christmas party season, and unfortunately a funeral) was the very next day. Do I text again requesting a drink that soon?! I didn't want to let it slide. So I did.

And he bloody didn't reply for about 12 hours. MASSIVE PARANOIA.

Turns out he left his phone at home. Gah. But he couldn't do that night anyway, so we've rearranged, for exactly a fortnight since the first date. I shall inform in due course. I'm feeling good about this one (can you tell?) and super worried I will somehow balls it up. We shall see. Argh.

Some Late Summer Excitement...

A mere two days after my strange and ultimately fruitless date with MyLifeYourHands, life took an unexpected and exciting turn. I met up with my cousin, who was down in London for just a day, for some drinks with her and her friends. I'd never met her friends but when I turned up, it turned out they were all boys. One boy in particular, was V hot. Vee vee hot.

We were all chatting, and I was telling my cousin about my recent dating tragedies - the unfortunate live tweeting of the last date, and the man with the penchant for hair pieces. I was saying that it felt near impossible to get dates in London, the normal way (what is the normal way), which was why I was doing online dating. In real life, in bars, wherever, I just don't get asked out, ever, I was telling her.

"I'll take you out." Said hot man.
I laughed - yeah right.
"No seriously, give me your number, we'll go out."

*angels sing*

And this is how I met Spencer. He had only moved to London 3 weeks prior to this, and was genuine in his wanting a date with me. He wanted to get to know London - and have someone to do it with, I suppose. That someone could be me!

We spent the rest of the evening chatting, mildly flirting, and when we all walked back to the tube we hung back and walked together. So cute, so teenage-y. I was loving it. Actual male attention from someone outside of the internets! I'm not a loser! I'm vaguely nice to speak to in real life! Other dramatic statements!

A few days later, I got a text from him, asking if I wanted to go on that date? Hell yes. Spencer was hot. Sort of rugby-type (not huge and muscley, but nicely built), light brown hair, funny, from Bristol (ie good accent), worked in finance. CHING. I joke, I joke. I would have actually preferred if he had a more creative profession(he wasn't creative in the slightest) but then I always go for creatives and they're all jerks. This is me trying a new approach, remember?

As he hadn't been in London very long, he said I should pick where to go as he hadn't a clue. Now, I usually prefer if the guy picks, at least on the first few dates, because, being a tad old fashioned, I like to be impressed. Plus you can tell a lot from someone by their date choices. But, I forgave him, because I remember what it was like to be new to London. I suggested the Southbank, as it's one of my favourite places, and you can't go wrong with the choice of restaurants there.

This is another thing - I think I've mentioned before that I don't like having a meal on the first date. But, because I'd already met him, and really fancied him, this felt fine. Strange, I thought. But good. We ended up going to Strada - we both liked Italian and it's a good location, right by the bridge.

We had to hang around for a table for a while, being a weekend, but it was still warm at this point, and we had an outside table. It was a really good date. The right amount of awkward, I felt relaxed but also was really in to him.

The one thing I'd say was that conversation wasn't as in depth as it had been with Mylifeyourhands for example - but perhaps he was nervous. I like to have random, or quite deep discussions on dates, but this felt like we were kind of just skirting the surface. Not exactly lots of awkward silences, but we weren't stumbling over each other to speak. Perhaps I analyse this too much though; as has been proven, great conversation and interesting anecdotes do not a great date always make.

After dinner we walked down the Southbank, over Westminster bridge and found ourselves a lovely cosy pub to continue the chat. It was a really good first date, and I loved that I'd met him offline, as it were - such a rarity nowadays. It was nice getting to know him from scratch. He'd graduated the year after me, was enjoying his job although wasn't exactly what he wanted to do (he didn't know what he wanted to do), he was living in Balham, commuting out to Epsom - slightly annoying for dating in central London but nothing major. He'd been travelling and had some great stories, and he seemed to be enjoying London. I liked telling him about what I do; he seemed genuinely interested even though he didn't really 'get' graphic design etc.

All through the date I was thinking, yep, definitely going to kiss you at the end. Definitely. No two ways about it, I really fancied him. And amazing that I was even considering it - all my other dates I'd been on, ever, I was never that bothered. Or just plain wasn't attracted to them by the end of the date so didn't want to. And we did, and it was perfect. Everything you want a first date kiss to be. I was grinning from ear to ear on the train home, was actually so happy! I texted my best friend and told her the news, hoping and hoping that he'd want to see me again. Maybe, for once, this was actually going to go somewhere...?

The Intriguing Case of the Guardian Columnist

From the rather fab Sell! Sell! blog

After the non-disaster-but-still-failure of Phillip, I cooled off the ol' dating for a while. I was getting increasingly despondent about the lack of decent guys anywhere; and what messages I did get, all seemed to be sent by idiots. Here is a small selection of the gems I received:

"Crumbs... you're a bit of a cutey aren't you!" (Are we in the 1950s?)

"Well, I had said I'd stay away from sweet things this year, and then I went and messaged you!" (Delete.)


"i spy with my little eye a mcfittie" (This sent from someone who's profile picture was him with a beard of foam.)

"Hi" (Genuinely, that was it. Not even a full stop, let alone a 'how are you'.)

"Hi !" (See above.)

And many others along those lines. Good for making me laugh, not good for making me not single.

Over summer I just focused on work and friends and having a good time really. I don't really get approached in bars... ever. It's weird. Not that I particularly want to be hounded, but it would be nice to get some attention. Still. Never mind.

So late August-ish, I wasn't really looking, but an interesting proposition popped up. I had been following the My Love Life in Your Hands column in the Guardian for a while, and also had been following him on twitter too. Along with some 'helpful' tweets from a friend, we struck up a rapport and in no uncertain terms I suggested, hintedy-hint, that I was single, he was looking for dates, nudge nudge. Anyway, if you're unaware of his rather charming column concept, every week he had a decision to make, one which the general Guardian readership made for him. One week, it was chosen that he join the dating site DoingSomething.co.uk, of which, lo and behold, I was also a member of. After a cryptic twitter DM, asking that he might need my help, he sent me in the direction of his profile.

Now. By very virtue of his chosen profession (anonymous Guardian column writer), we had agreed, theoretically, to perhaps meeting, before I even knew his real name, let alone what he looked like. To protect his identity (and the fact he still operates behind the My Life Your Hands name, and that I bear him no ills) I obviously won't tell you his real name, or anything really else about him, that isn't important to the story. So we shall just stick to calling him MyLifeYourHands, akin to some kind of robot-droid name from the future.

I'm pretty relaxed about writing all this though, and I'm sure he is, because of course, a clause of me dating him would be that he would write about me. How the tables have turned! I ummed and ahhed, but thought, why the hell not. It was anonymous, after all. Also, I'm a slight attention seeker, being a Leo, so, I would get to say that I'd been in the Guardian! Sort of. Aha.

However, all was not as it seemed. The next message from him (slightly edited, it was a tad long) went along the lines of...

"I have a slight problem insofar as that I have some work coming up this week and it's playing havoc with my column deadlines.
Basically, I need to make sure that I've got someone to go out with as a result of signing up here sometime this week, so that I have a story to write whilst I'm away.
What would be amazing is if I could use you as my safeguard in this whole thing. Someone that I can rely on if I don't meet someone on here 'naturally', as it were.
I know that is an obscenely horrid ask - not to mention desperately unromantic - but, as thanks for being my back up, I promise I will definitely take you and buy you drinks, regardless of what happens.
I'll happily answer any questions, I've got nothing to hide so I will be totally honest and upfront with you
What do you think? Could you be prepared to sign on for that?"

My first thought was, gee, he doesn't even want to actually date me, for me, at all. It's just fodder to fill the column inches. I am NOTHING (dramatic swoon). But then I thought, as is typical to me, I shall prove him wrong! I shall go on a date with him and it'll be the best damn date he's EVER BEEN ON! And Guardian readers will all be like 'Oh em gee this girl is amaze!' (All Guardian readers are from Essex in this story.)

And, in his defence, at least he was honest. He didn't have to be honest at all. Seeing as he wrote an anonymous, albeit nationwide-ly-published column about girls, without telling them, he didn't have to tell me. So, I agreed.

It turned out that he was speaking to two other girls on there too, so I needn't have been his backup in the end anyway. And, in turned out that the Guardian readers, in their wisdom, picked me for him to date anyway, so all wasn't as bad as it seemed: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/poll/2011/aug/25/my-love-life-in-your-hands  I'm the 'one with the cutesy screen name'. It's not that cutesy! =/

On Doing Something, there's this cool little feature to 'Spin the wheel of date', which picks your date venue/activity for you. Actually really fun. Our spinning brought us Tea and Cake at the Coach & Horses off Greek St - I love tea. I love cake. Good times.

So the time of the date arrived. I was very nervous. Admittedly, he wasn't really my type from the off - his profile picture confirmed that before I met him - but, he wasn't unattractive. And I'd learned recently that 'my type' is probably the 'wrong type' anyway. The date was actually reeeaaally good. We had great conversation, talked about anything and everything (from male strippers to the perils of old age) and generally had a lovely time.

Here is what he wrote about me. He refers to me as Rebecca - that's not my real name. My name is much nicer. Not that you'll ever know what it is.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/poll/2011/sep/01/my-love-life-in-your-hands

So there. A glowing, however short, review. I do like being referred to as 'spiky and sardonic'. I might put that in my email signature.

I wasn't sure if there was loads of chemistry, but enough, and we could definitely be friends, potentially more, if I could get over the nagging feeling I was being used for literary hilarity/killing time. It struck me (and he sort of alluded to it on the date) that he was getting tired of the endless procession of dates and pressure to always have something to write about. And, as was well documented on the column, he had already met someone he really really liked - she was just in a foreign country, and he had obligations to see the column come to a natural close. BUT, we had a lot of fun. I worked my ass off trying to prove that I could be more than just 'back up'. So, I did hope we would have a second date. Time would tell....

Read Round 2 here!

Same Story, Different Guy.

Bonjour catastrophe-loving followers! Hope you all had a good Halloween? I did - but I can't share until I've caught up with all my dates so far. Can't very well do things out of chronological order can we? That would be totes confusing.

Photo taken from here.

So, after the utter disaster that was Cameron Huntingdon and his wig wearing ways, you'd think I'd have been scarred for life on the whole online dating front, right? Well, no. Bravely, I decided to march on, even after metaphorically taking a huge hit on the front line.

Also, I'd already arranged a date with another guy before the wig horror, so I couldn't really back out. But MAINLY I was taking a huge hit on the front line.

This is one of those stories that isn't particularly a disaster, just a classic dating story. I met Phillip* on Tastebuds, as per usual, and after a few messages and liking the look of his profile picture (he only had the one... I should have been/am now always wary of people with only one picture) we agreed to meet for a drink. Learning from the last date, I didn't factor any dinner into this equation - a drink usually means an easier way to escape. Also, I'm not a fan of dinner on the first date with someone you've never met before.

We had a lot in common, it seemed; he too was a fellow creative type, and ran his own review website. We liked similar music too, which is always a plus. I decided it would be nice to meet along the Southbank - perfect first date ground; lots of people to watch, loads of options for food and drink, quite romantic (Thames and all) but, selfishly, really easy for me (and him, actually) to get home from!! Ha. We met at the BFI - They have a bar on the top floor with great views of the Thames, pretty cool.

I was meeting him after work, running a bit late. Finally got there and met him - I had a sly check, pretty sure he wasn't wearing a wig. Check. However - he was tall. Reeeeaally tall. Probably my fault for not checking his profile properly, but he was about a foot taller than me. I'm not a midget - average at 5'4" - but he must have been over 6fit, definitely. I like guys to be a bit taller than me, but anything over 6ft I don't feel comfortable with. I don't like being constantly looked down on, or having to stand on tiptoes to kiss, and - this is generally speaking - taller gents usually appear on the lanky side. Now, I do like a skinny guy, but tall and skinny - not really my cup of tea.

Never mind, I thought, lets not rule him out yet. It's not on looks alone! He was not, however, as attractive as his profile picture, and I realised later this was probably because his picture was in black and white. Everyone looks better in black and white. I should have realised this. He did look mostly the same IRL, but he had a tad bit of the spotty face going on (not judging - just saying - I get spots too) but that's really hard to be attracted to when he's not ticking all the other boxes. I was genuinely disappointed. Le sigh.

Despite my shallow observations, we had a really lovely date, had a few drinks, walked along the Thames, then went for some cocktails in a cool bar elsewhere, and got on very well. Really well, I can't fault him, he was lovely company and I felt very relaxed and at ease. But - and here comes the cliché - there just wasn't a spark. (We'll probably discuss the spark another day - I'm not even sure it exists.) I wasn't staring at his face, eager to get to the end of the date to kiss him, nor was I daydreaming about the next date. He was a really nice guy, and I could definitely have seen myself being friends with him, but there you go. What can you do? There just wasn't the physical attraction, and, no matter what anybody says, no matter how amazing someone is, if you don't fancy them, then there is probably no romantic future.

However, at the end of the date, he leant forward to kiss me, and I - taken by surprise, but also hoping maybe it would provide a breakthrough (I so wanted to like him) - kissed him back. I didn't pull away because I wanted to know, once and for all, if there was going to be a spark. Anything. But no, in fact, the opposite. I walked away feeling a little bit... grossed out. THAT'S not supposed to happen when you kiss someone, is it?! He wasn't a terrible kisser, it was just.. not right for me, at all.

Anyway, I relayed this to my long-suffering friends, and my housemate, in particular, came out with the p-bomb: "You're way too picky!"

ME? Picky?! What? I... didn't believe her at first. Surely not - I can't help it if I didn't feel anything for the guy! My gut was telling me he wasn't right for me, but I was so worried that maybe I am picky - god help me - that I listened to her convince me to go on a second date with him.

"You might learn to like him", she said. And then regaled me with the tale of her current boyf, who at first she didn't like that much at all but now is madly in love. Humph, I thought.

Anyway, I listened to her, grudgingly, and when he text me again asking me out, I agreed. At first, actually, he asked me if I wanted to go round his house for dinner - but that was super alarm bells. a) I had previously learned he still lived with his parents, but apparently he had a 'free house', hence the dinner b) nobody calls it a free house anymore, not since we were 15. c) We all know what he was after d) he lives proper out in the 'burbs of Greater London and frankly, I couldn't be arsed.

So we met for a drink again, in a pub this time, and again, the date was fine, but I just couldn't find it anywhere within me to like him romantically. I tried, honestly, but sometimes, things just don't work out. He walked me to the station and I quickly realised - quelle horreur - that he was going to kiss me again. I did not want to. BUT - you can't not kiss someone on the second date, if you've kissed them on the first date! Surely.

I admit it - I panicked. When he zeroed in for the kiss, I sort of pulled back, said something along the lines of "No... er.. sorry..." Or some such other nonsense. His face said it all - pure disbelief/pain/horror. Oh god. I said 'bye and ran away.

All the way home I felt sooo guilty - I should have just explained, listen, I really like you, but just as friends, that sort of thing. Not recoil in disgust and run away like a weirdo when he tried to kiss me.

I texted him a week later, after Easter, to see how he was etc, (was feeling a tad guilty) but no reply. I genuinely would have liked to keep him as a friend; I don't know a huge amount of people in London, and he was cool. Alas, he has never spoken to me again.

This kind of story seems to happen a lot to me - they seem to like me, I just don't feel anything back. Do you ever get things like that? How do you know how you feel? Are you scared you're a bit too picky for your own good? What if you'll never feel anything for anyone ever again?! (OR is that just me?)

And the moral of this story? Always trust your gut, and ignore friends who think you are picky. You are not picky. You just know what you want. Probably. Maybe.

My First Dating Horror Story; The Crazy American, Part 2

And so, on with the story! Read Part 1 of this comedy of errors right here.

You might remember we somehow ended up in Starbucks. I'm not one to be defeated early (oh no) so we sat down and got chatting. I had realised early on that even though he said he was American, his accent was... strangely not. I asked him why this might be. "Oh, it's a really complicated story, I'll tell you when I've had some caffeine in me."

He drinks his soy latte. (Ew.)

"Well, basically, my parents got divorced when I was young, they lived in America, my mum moved back to England and I went with her."

Gosh, that WAS a really complicated story, I'm so glad you had your caffeine fix to help weave your way through the intracies of the situation.

So we carried on chatting, quite interesting conversation, this and that, but I'd already decided pretty much that this was going nowhere. I wasn't really attracted to him (especially his crazy hair) and he seemed to be trying way too hard to come across as a bit bohemian/kooky/creative.

I asked him where he lives - he literally pointed out of the window and said "there." Wow, you've arranged a date 20 seconds from your house. I've had to travel 35 minutes to be here, and a further 30 minutes to get home. This is going well. He asked me where I live, so I told him, describing it as 'south of London Bridge' when I was met with a blank stare.

He then starting SINGING 'London Bridge is falling down.' SINGING.

I was like, "Er.. yeah.. that's the one..."

Christ.

By this point it was about 8,15pm, and I was thinking of ways I could escape. The lateness, just got out of bed look (he clearly obviously HAD just got out of bed), the weird hangover excuse, not knowing the clocks had gone forward, the nil-restaurant happening, Starbucks, having no money to pay for Starbucks and the singing, had all added up to a big fat GOD HELP ME. Uncreatively I just said "Well... it's getting late, work tomorrow, you know, I'd better go..." To which, he, incredulously, asked if I wanted to sleep in his roommate's vacant bed. How well does he think this is going?! (Side note: He was at one of those american-style Uni's somewhere in London where they share their bedrooms, hence roommate. So he was basically asking if I wanted to sleep in the bed next to his, on a first date.) I, baffled, said, no, thanks, still with the getting to work issue... you know...

I was quite prepared to be out until 10/11pm in a nice Mexican restaurant drinking wine, but no, I was in some form of Starbucks Hell so the evening had to be terminated quickly. He walked me to Kings Cross Underground, thankfully, a full 3 minutes away, and I said the usual (but completely untrue on this occassion) "Well, I had a lovely evening..." He then went a bit quiet and asked, "Is this not good?" At first, in horror, I thought he meant the date - had I hurt his feelings with my fairly transparent brush off? Was he going to suddenly demand my reasons for not staying later, or - horror - not staying in his room?! I obviously looked confused because he asked it again, but this time pointing at himself, his head.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

And with a tug at his hair, he pulled it off. It was a wig. HE WAS WEARING A WIG. Underneath, there was his normal hair I'd seen in his photos.

Spluttering, disbelieving, I asked why the hell he was wearing that?! "Dunno, bought it yesterday, thought it was quite cool, might wear it tomorrow" he said with a grin.

I literally waved and ran down the stairs to the tube.

The whole journey home I couldn't believe what had just happened - not only the wig, but the whole evening. Was it a joke? A set up? I'll never know, but it was pretty fucking weird. I started to feel a bit sorry for the guy - was that his way of being a bit different and impressing someone? Who knows. Who cares, to be honest.

When I got home, I had a message - "Underneath my real hair, I'm bald, and underneath that, I'm a robot hahaha!"

Delete.

My First Dating Horror Story; The Crazy American, Part 1

Time to continue where I left off; and this one's a good 'un. Just what you need for a cold and rubbish wednesday (halfway through the week, hurrah!), this is perhaps my best worst dating story so far. I'm doing everything in chronological order, and it's just as well to get this out of the way early.

Sometimes I can't actually believe this happened to me. But it did. I'm sure it'll end up as one of those London dating myth stories but it's completely true, and I die a little every time I tell it. But tell it I must.

The 'Crazy' American, Part 1.

So, we established that MSF hadn't worked very well, and my early attempt at Tastebuds wasn't brilliant when I asked the wrong guy for his number....

I hadn't given up on Tastebuds though, so I carried on searching, favouriting and messaging. Sure enough, I was chatting to an American guy, we'll call him Cameron Huntingdon* (His actual name was even more ridiculous, if you can believe it. Quite cool but also.... ridiculous.) Now, we'd only messaged a couple of times and suddenly he was asking me out! Well done, I thought. Quick off the mark. I assume Americans are much more forthcoming and confident about dating - dating is quite an american concept, I'll admit. He was a student, and 2 years younger than me, but he looked cute, kind of emo, short dark blonde hair, skinny, so I thought, lets give it a go. It's only a few years difference. So we arranged to meet one monday, near King's Cross, at 7 by a Mexican restaurant. So far, so good, I was quite excited on going on my actual first online date.

It got to about 6.55pm, and I called him because I couldn't find the place - it's one of those where there's little hidden streets behind streets; basically I just couldn't see it. He didn't pick up, but sent me a text shortly after saying "On my way, didn't realise the clocks had gone forward, sorry phone battery about to die."

Um. Two things here: first, the glaringly obvious one: You didn't know the clocks had gone forward?! This was the day after they had gone forward for British Summer Time, so a good 36 hours after: have you not watched the news? Listened to the radio in that space of time? Secondly: Your phone is about to die? Really? After we'd planned this date, surely you would remember to charge your phone. I know you're a student but come on... really?

I text him back saying Ok, but I can't actually find the place? He replied saying it was behind so-and-so, and eventually I found it. I was standing there for a while, until someone approached me... I didn't realise it was him at first because he looked so different! His hair was much longer, and it looked like he'd dyed it (badly) black. Plus he looked quite gaunt.. I like 'em skinny but he was almost that I could probably snap him. Not great.

So we said hello (got approached by a crying lady selling Big Issue, we gave her money, awkwaaaard) and I said "Soo... shall we go inside?" pointing at said Mexican restaurant.
"Oh.. yeah, I went out on friday night... feeling quite hungover so don't really feel like a drink..."
(I'm thing, well I DO. I'd quite like a glass of red actually!) "Oh ok, well... how about a coffee or something?" STILL thinking we would go inside lovely, welcoming Mexican restaurant for coffee and dinner then.
"Yeah cool, there's a Starbucks just round the corner." He said.

Starbucks. Brilliant. I get all nicely dressed up, with LIPSTICK and everything, and you propose to take me to Starbucks. Starbucks is where I go when I'm out shopping, or in the morning if I feel like it before work. Not on an evening date, surely? I'd let you get away with it if we were meeting at lunchtime during the week, definitely. But even on a Saturday lunchtime I'd be disappointed with Starbucks; take me to an independent cosy coffee shop anyday. But on a weekday evening? A pub, surely, at the very least. PLUS it wouldn't be so bad if I thought it was Starbucks all along. I wouldn't have bothered with mascara on my lower lashes, perhaps I would have stretched to only a light lipgloss. But I thought we were going to a restaurant! A fun, upbeat, Mexican restaurant!

"Ok, yeah sure." I said.

So in we walked to Starbucks. He seemed reluctant to walk to the counter... but perhaps he was doing an awkward, stuttering version of 'ladies first.' Perhaps. I ordered a skinny cap, of course, he got some kind of crazy soy latte concoction. He offered to pay for said coffees, "Why, thank you," I said, thinking, damn right, I wanted wine you weird, 4 day hangover-having person. He got out his wallet. He had all of £3. "Oh it's ok, I'll get these, no worries" I said. Thinking: a) you shouldn't have given your money to the sad homeless lady b) actually you should, and you should have enough to spare for a drink let alone a coffee! and c) this is the worst date ever.

I don't expect the guys to pay for the whole evening; on the contrary, I get a bit embarrassed. However, first drink, yes, I would quite like that to be bought for me, just to show your monetary prowess and impress me a little. No I don't live in the 19th Century. Yes, I wish I did.

Was I expecting to end up in a Starbucks next to Kings Cross, buying this lowlife waster student with terrible hair a soy-fucking-latte on a monday night? No.

So what happened next? I shall tell you. Subscribe or follow me on twitter and I'll reveal all in due course...

Update: Read the horror of Part 2 here.