In stark contrast to the excitement of last week, this one has been pretty dire. In terms of dating, work and domesticity,my patience has been well and truly tested.
Firstly, my kitchen flooded and then a couple of days later, the glass on my oven door exploded. The most upsetting aspect of the oven scenario was that it was all over my dinner which had been happily cooking away. Death by ground glass is not a good way to go apparently so I gave the pasta bake a miss and went to bed in a huff, stomach grumbling, glass everywhere.
Having already phoned the insurance company to report the water damage, I decided against calling again to report the oven. Life is too bloody short. Anyone who commits insurance fraud just for the hell of it must be completely mad. Frankly I'd rather just buy whatever it was that I wanted. A whole new kitchen however is a different matter entirely so I endured the call. The length of which was almost as mind numbing as the date with Waitrose Guy on Tuesday.Perhaps I can charm the assessor when he gets here? Enough of the domestic moans and groans, lets get on to the good stuff.
Met said guy on Tuesday night and he greeted me with a big smile and a kiss on the cheek. At this point instead of breathing in cologne, all I could smell was stale cigarette smoke and from that moment on I wasn't interested and began to calculate how long I could stay before making a polite excuse to leave. He was handsome. And when he laughed, even more so but he laughed rarely. I suspect that's part of the package with a writer, especially a poet. I think a tortured soul is compulsory. Now poetry isn't really my thing. I can appreciate a naughty limmerick, or something by Edwin Morgan or Tom Leonard but this guy was on another level altogether. Everything was very serious, brooding, intense and self indulgent.
After buying me a drink, he handed me a folded piece of A4. I opened it to see a poem in the shape of a fork, which is hard to explain really but it read 'You ate from my fork, but did I feed you' there was also a scribbled note from him. This was a poem from the book he'd just written. Fourteen years of work no less and I was one of the first people to have a sneaky preview. I pretended to be impressed and asked if he wrote all his poetry in the shape of objects. BIG mistake. He then went on to explain that yes, this was a style he used often but after meeting me at the supermarket, he was inspired to write something completely different. He then asked if he could recite it for me. Immediately I panicked because I knew I'd have the urge to laugh so I said no but he insisited. While I was biting my lip,hoping the ground would swallow me, he was reciting something along the lines of 'I kiseed her cheek, where my lips bled'. He then followed it up by saying that it was 'dark' but he thought he knew what it meant. He seemed so pleased with himself whilst I was bemused.
I deliberately aksed him a lot of questions because that meant I didn't have to answer any from him. I didn't particularly want to share anything about myself and he very much liked talking about himself, his life, and his ahem, work. After 2 hours of Spanish Inquisition from me, Waitrose guy announced his need for a cigarette. This was my opportunity to make a run for it. Well, make my excuses and leave but I wanted to run. Faster than I've ever run before. Especially, when we got out into the street where he grabbed me and tried to kiss me. How could he have got it so wrong? Especially after he pointed out that I was very much keeping my distance by sitting away from him. Perhaps I'm good at feigning interest? Let's face it, I've had plenty of practice. I turned my face away and wriggled out of his grasp. He then said he'd give me a call and I did my usual 'Yeah sure', and ran off into the night.
5 Days later, he called. I ignored the phone. Hoovering was more interesting. He did leave a voicemail though. He apologised for leaving it so long to call but he thought he'd give me some 'space' as I seemed busy but he hoped things were good with me. Space? After only one date? Very considerate don't you think? I absolutely can't deal with someone so intense and introspective. That's a call I wont be returning.
Speaking of returning; Teacher Guy has text every other day since our date nearly two weeks ago. Always something humourous & interesting but never any questions and no hint of asking for another date. I text back but again, I never ask any questions. I don't want another date but I am curious as to why he keeps in touch. If I ever find out, I'll be sure to let you know.
Sunday 28 February 2010
Sunday 21 February 2010
A week in the life...
Well, what a whirlwind of a week it's been and not a moment of it dull.
Monday: Approached by a girl, explaining that although she was straight, recently she'd been 'curious' and she'd like to get to know me better although she understood that 'it' may not be my thing. Initially this made me giggle and my first instinct was to tell some trusted friends and get their reaction which made me laugh even more. Not one of them thought I'd consider a visit to Dykesville and the term 'cock hungry nymph' was used,not by me I might add. Perhaps I should put that on a dating profile and see what happens? Tracey McCallum- Cock Hungry Nymph. Now that would be an interesting experiment and a fabulous source of material for my blog. It hadn't occured to me before that a woman might actually look at me and find me sexually attractive. We all look at women in magazines and discuss how gorgeous they are but for me, I've never seriously thought about looking at another woman and actually fancying her never mind approaching her. That takes balls! The experience was flattering. Of course it's going to be flattering if someone else finds you attractive but another friend had asked if it freaked me out a bit and actually it didn't. Is that because I'm quite comfortable in my sexuality? Open minded? Or actually a lesbian and I just don't know it yet? It was certainly outwith my comfort zone but I took it as a compliment. I thanked the girl but explained that 'it' wasn't my thing and wished her fun times with whoever she met in the future.
Tuesday: Date with Art Guy. Comes from a wealthy family and splits his time between here and his place in London. He's a photographer but curates exhibitions of fine art and mentors up and coming photographers. He was tall and reasonably good looking, well dressed, gentlemanly and very interesting but also very, erm....wimpy I suppose is the best word to describe him. He mentioned that he'd gone to boarding school and he really didn't enjoy the experience, which implied to me that he may have been bullied and he kind of had that air about him. It's hard to put into words but although he's very successful on his career and very talented too, I get the impression he could be a needy type and that's never good. I would eat him for breakfast. When he blurted out ' I really like you' I could feel my toes curling. I haven't devised an effective 'get out clause' for dates yet and I really need to work on this. At the end of the night he asked if he could see me when he was back in Glasgow and I said 'Yeah sure' and ran off into the night.
Wednesday: Date with Teacher Guy. Born and brought up in Liverpool but studied at Glasgow and now works in Edinburgh. Mid thirties, really into music and comedy and a great laugh but when we met in the bar, he came over to greet me and he had a limp handshake and seemed awkward when I kissed him on the cheek. This surprised me as I'd expected him to be more confident. Immediately I'd made up my mind that this could never go anywhere. We had a couple of drinks and then decided to eat. I was having a really good time but it was more like being with a mate than a date and all the time I was thinking about my exit strategy and how if we split the bill then I could leave with a clear conscience. He insisted on picking up the tab, which made me feel really guilty as I knew I had no intention of ever seeing him again. So I thanked him for a lovely night, by way of another awkward kiss on the cheek and again, ran off into the night. I have received a couple of texts from him since but none asking to meet up again so now I'm confused. Does he want to see me again? Does he know I'm not interested and is happy to be mates? I'm not so sure. Men don't normally just want to be mates with girls. So why text? Time will reveal all I suspect.
Thursday: I deliberately didn't plan anything for this as I was so looking forward to the Channel 4 documentary, My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding. It didn't disappoint. There was tackiness on a level I've never seen before & it was an amazing insight into another culture. There's a gypsy campsite at Saracen Cross, opposite the See Woo and I often drive by and wonder about the lives of those in the caravans behind the gates. Quite unbelieveable but most entertaining. Don't think I'm ready to jack it all in an marry into the travelling community yet though.
Friday: Work night out. Dinner ar Tony Macaroni's on Byres Road. Now, I have to admit to turning my nose up at the chosen venue as I'm not a fan of any type of chain restaurant but it was actually much nicer than I thought. The decor was lovely, the service polite and the food good. And lets not forget the stunning guy who runs the place. The girlies, including me could hardly take our eyes off him the whole night and he was a master at the 'polite but charming' host thing. It's a long time since I've checked out a waiter but he was hot. Infact, it's a long time since I've checked out any guy in Glasgow and thought he was hot. Overall, it was an entertaining night. Everyone was on good form, and despite one of the guys knocking a table full of drinks over me (thankfully I was all in black), I had a great laugh. Must arrange another visit to Tony Macaroni's.
Saturday: Met some girlfriends in Princess Square for a bit of lunch, then had a wander round the shops. Decided to take a visit to Waitrose on Byres Road on my way home to get something nice for dinner. Passed a guy and he was tall, dark and quite handsome. He smiled at me so I smiled back and carried on with my shopping. As I was paying for my goods, I noticed he was a few people in the queue behind me. Passing him on my way out we made eye contact and I smiled again. I left the store and decided that as it was such a nice night I'd just walk home. The next thing I know, Waitrose Guy has caught up with me and said 'Excuse me, I don't normally approach women in the street but I thought I would...My name's Mark, I'm not trying to stalk you but I am walking this direction, do you mind if I walk with you?' I said 'yeah sure', it was still light and there were loads of people about so I felt safe and we chatted all the way up Queen Margaret Drive. Turns out he's a writer. Mostly of poetry, which is something I know nothing much about, I do have a talent for composing limericks though, hah hah! I chose not to share that with him, he may have found it insulting. He said he'd just finished a book and was just coming back to normality as he'd been in writing mode for months. He then asked if I was some kind of therapist as I'd managed to extract a hell of a lot of information from him in a short space of time and he knew nothing about me. He then asked if he could have my number so I thought what the hell and we went our separate ways. He called last night, which I deliberately didn't answer. Always good to be a little unavailable don't you think? He left a voicemail asking if I'd like to go out for dinner this week. I haven't called him back yet, but I'm thinking I should. I'm not sure dinner is such a good idea though. Maybe a drink would be better? Based on my previous encounters with writers / creatives, it can be a bit hard going sometimes. Perhaps I'm doing him a disservice? I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.
I wonder what this week will bring?
Monday: Approached by a girl, explaining that although she was straight, recently she'd been 'curious' and she'd like to get to know me better although she understood that 'it' may not be my thing. Initially this made me giggle and my first instinct was to tell some trusted friends and get their reaction which made me laugh even more. Not one of them thought I'd consider a visit to Dykesville and the term 'cock hungry nymph' was used,not by me I might add. Perhaps I should put that on a dating profile and see what happens? Tracey McCallum- Cock Hungry Nymph. Now that would be an interesting experiment and a fabulous source of material for my blog. It hadn't occured to me before that a woman might actually look at me and find me sexually attractive. We all look at women in magazines and discuss how gorgeous they are but for me, I've never seriously thought about looking at another woman and actually fancying her never mind approaching her. That takes balls! The experience was flattering. Of course it's going to be flattering if someone else finds you attractive but another friend had asked if it freaked me out a bit and actually it didn't. Is that because I'm quite comfortable in my sexuality? Open minded? Or actually a lesbian and I just don't know it yet? It was certainly outwith my comfort zone but I took it as a compliment. I thanked the girl but explained that 'it' wasn't my thing and wished her fun times with whoever she met in the future.
Tuesday: Date with Art Guy. Comes from a wealthy family and splits his time between here and his place in London. He's a photographer but curates exhibitions of fine art and mentors up and coming photographers. He was tall and reasonably good looking, well dressed, gentlemanly and very interesting but also very, erm....wimpy I suppose is the best word to describe him. He mentioned that he'd gone to boarding school and he really didn't enjoy the experience, which implied to me that he may have been bullied and he kind of had that air about him. It's hard to put into words but although he's very successful on his career and very talented too, I get the impression he could be a needy type and that's never good. I would eat him for breakfast. When he blurted out ' I really like you' I could feel my toes curling. I haven't devised an effective 'get out clause' for dates yet and I really need to work on this. At the end of the night he asked if he could see me when he was back in Glasgow and I said 'Yeah sure' and ran off into the night.
Wednesday: Date with Teacher Guy. Born and brought up in Liverpool but studied at Glasgow and now works in Edinburgh. Mid thirties, really into music and comedy and a great laugh but when we met in the bar, he came over to greet me and he had a limp handshake and seemed awkward when I kissed him on the cheek. This surprised me as I'd expected him to be more confident. Immediately I'd made up my mind that this could never go anywhere. We had a couple of drinks and then decided to eat. I was having a really good time but it was more like being with a mate than a date and all the time I was thinking about my exit strategy and how if we split the bill then I could leave with a clear conscience. He insisted on picking up the tab, which made me feel really guilty as I knew I had no intention of ever seeing him again. So I thanked him for a lovely night, by way of another awkward kiss on the cheek and again, ran off into the night. I have received a couple of texts from him since but none asking to meet up again so now I'm confused. Does he want to see me again? Does he know I'm not interested and is happy to be mates? I'm not so sure. Men don't normally just want to be mates with girls. So why text? Time will reveal all I suspect.
Thursday: I deliberately didn't plan anything for this as I was so looking forward to the Channel 4 documentary, My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding. It didn't disappoint. There was tackiness on a level I've never seen before & it was an amazing insight into another culture. There's a gypsy campsite at Saracen Cross, opposite the See Woo and I often drive by and wonder about the lives of those in the caravans behind the gates. Quite unbelieveable but most entertaining. Don't think I'm ready to jack it all in an marry into the travelling community yet though.
Friday: Work night out. Dinner ar Tony Macaroni's on Byres Road. Now, I have to admit to turning my nose up at the chosen venue as I'm not a fan of any type of chain restaurant but it was actually much nicer than I thought. The decor was lovely, the service polite and the food good. And lets not forget the stunning guy who runs the place. The girlies, including me could hardly take our eyes off him the whole night and he was a master at the 'polite but charming' host thing. It's a long time since I've checked out a waiter but he was hot. Infact, it's a long time since I've checked out any guy in Glasgow and thought he was hot. Overall, it was an entertaining night. Everyone was on good form, and despite one of the guys knocking a table full of drinks over me (thankfully I was all in black), I had a great laugh. Must arrange another visit to Tony Macaroni's.
Saturday: Met some girlfriends in Princess Square for a bit of lunch, then had a wander round the shops. Decided to take a visit to Waitrose on Byres Road on my way home to get something nice for dinner. Passed a guy and he was tall, dark and quite handsome. He smiled at me so I smiled back and carried on with my shopping. As I was paying for my goods, I noticed he was a few people in the queue behind me. Passing him on my way out we made eye contact and I smiled again. I left the store and decided that as it was such a nice night I'd just walk home. The next thing I know, Waitrose Guy has caught up with me and said 'Excuse me, I don't normally approach women in the street but I thought I would...My name's Mark, I'm not trying to stalk you but I am walking this direction, do you mind if I walk with you?' I said 'yeah sure', it was still light and there were loads of people about so I felt safe and we chatted all the way up Queen Margaret Drive. Turns out he's a writer. Mostly of poetry, which is something I know nothing much about, I do have a talent for composing limericks though, hah hah! I chose not to share that with him, he may have found it insulting. He said he'd just finished a book and was just coming back to normality as he'd been in writing mode for months. He then asked if I was some kind of therapist as I'd managed to extract a hell of a lot of information from him in a short space of time and he knew nothing about me. He then asked if he could have my number so I thought what the hell and we went our separate ways. He called last night, which I deliberately didn't answer. Always good to be a little unavailable don't you think? He left a voicemail asking if I'd like to go out for dinner this week. I haven't called him back yet, but I'm thinking I should. I'm not sure dinner is such a good idea though. Maybe a drink would be better? Based on my previous encounters with writers / creatives, it can be a bit hard going sometimes. Perhaps I'm doing him a disservice? I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.
I wonder what this week will bring?
Saturday 13 February 2010
Size; Is it really everything?
Whoever said size didn't matter didn't know what the hell they were talking about. Size is everything.
Whether it's portion control or shopping for clothes and everything else inbetween, size can make or break you.
This past week I've eaten huge portions of 'beige' food. Pastry, chips, cake, potatoes, pasta, you name it, I've gobbled it down like I'll never see food again and now I'm left feeling bloated and sluggish and more than a little bit guilty for my gluttony. Tomorrow is back to the usual regime of home made soups & salads and barely a carb in sight. I've made a decision not to take my weekly trip to the scales on Monday as I don't want to see the LCD flash 3 or 4lbs in the wrong direction. BIG portions = low self esteem.
Now when it comes to men, size is also a huge issue. I'm not talking about penis size here, although that is absolutely important. Infact, I remember once going out with a guy I'd fancied for ages. We had a great night, good food, lots of chat a few drinks but not too many...and then it came to the inevitable tearing each others clothes off in the hallway scenario. The tension between us had been building for some months before this moment and I can't tell you the disappointment I felt upon seeing his less than impressive member. He was an extremely good looking guy with a great physique but any desire I felt was gone in the blink of an eye so the sex for me was a case of going through the motions whilst thinking of excuses not to see him again if he asked. Which he did.
Anyway, I digress...the main issue I'm having with regards to men and size is the business of height. Scotland seems to have a higher than average population of male midgets. I'm not tall, 5ft 2" but I do like a man to be taller than me, even when I'm wearing heels which lets face it, will only increase my stature to 5ft 6" at the most. Where are all the tall single guys? I'm not looking for much, I'm long enough in the tooth to know that Mr. Perfect doesn't actally exist but I would like Mr. Potenial. I have an open mind and I don't have a preference for hair, eye colour, or a body like adonis but the whole height thing is a real stumbling block. I do want a man to be manly and for me that equates to height. I'm fully aware this might sound crazy and irrational to some but short men just don't rock my boat, no matter how charming, funny, wealthy they may be. For some reason short men seem to be attracted to me. Why is this? I'm going to start wearing a sign saying 'If you're less that 5ft 10" please don't approach me as refusal often offends'.
Today my search for the right bra size has also been like searching for the Holy Grail. Being in the market for some new lingerie, I decided to take my boosoms to be measured. I am a 34F but depending on the style and brand of bra this may well vary very slightly which involves trying on half a department store. With bras in abundance I set about looking for the usual functional smooth t-shirt bra, the strapless bra and then the sexy bra. I left the house at 10.30am, I got home at tea-time. I don't know which took more time. Sifting through racks trying to find my elusive size or trying all my selections on. It's an exhausting and costly business. But when it comes to bras, size is everything. No-one wants badly supported & drooping knockers, or that ghastly 4 boob look caused when the cup size is too small. Then there's the checking of the bulges elsewhere. Having made my purchases I came home and had to have a ruthless clearout of the underwear drawer in order to fit all the new under garments in. Does the charity shop accept 2nd hand bras in good condtion?
Size does matter. Case closed.
Whether it's portion control or shopping for clothes and everything else inbetween, size can make or break you.
This past week I've eaten huge portions of 'beige' food. Pastry, chips, cake, potatoes, pasta, you name it, I've gobbled it down like I'll never see food again and now I'm left feeling bloated and sluggish and more than a little bit guilty for my gluttony. Tomorrow is back to the usual regime of home made soups & salads and barely a carb in sight. I've made a decision not to take my weekly trip to the scales on Monday as I don't want to see the LCD flash 3 or 4lbs in the wrong direction. BIG portions = low self esteem.
Now when it comes to men, size is also a huge issue. I'm not talking about penis size here, although that is absolutely important. Infact, I remember once going out with a guy I'd fancied for ages. We had a great night, good food, lots of chat a few drinks but not too many...and then it came to the inevitable tearing each others clothes off in the hallway scenario. The tension between us had been building for some months before this moment and I can't tell you the disappointment I felt upon seeing his less than impressive member. He was an extremely good looking guy with a great physique but any desire I felt was gone in the blink of an eye so the sex for me was a case of going through the motions whilst thinking of excuses not to see him again if he asked. Which he did.
Anyway, I digress...the main issue I'm having with regards to men and size is the business of height. Scotland seems to have a higher than average population of male midgets. I'm not tall, 5ft 2" but I do like a man to be taller than me, even when I'm wearing heels which lets face it, will only increase my stature to 5ft 6" at the most. Where are all the tall single guys? I'm not looking for much, I'm long enough in the tooth to know that Mr. Perfect doesn't actally exist but I would like Mr. Potenial. I have an open mind and I don't have a preference for hair, eye colour, or a body like adonis but the whole height thing is a real stumbling block. I do want a man to be manly and for me that equates to height. I'm fully aware this might sound crazy and irrational to some but short men just don't rock my boat, no matter how charming, funny, wealthy they may be. For some reason short men seem to be attracted to me. Why is this? I'm going to start wearing a sign saying 'If you're less that 5ft 10" please don't approach me as refusal often offends'.
Today my search for the right bra size has also been like searching for the Holy Grail. Being in the market for some new lingerie, I decided to take my boosoms to be measured. I am a 34F but depending on the style and brand of bra this may well vary very slightly which involves trying on half a department store. With bras in abundance I set about looking for the usual functional smooth t-shirt bra, the strapless bra and then the sexy bra. I left the house at 10.30am, I got home at tea-time. I don't know which took more time. Sifting through racks trying to find my elusive size or trying all my selections on. It's an exhausting and costly business. But when it comes to bras, size is everything. No-one wants badly supported & drooping knockers, or that ghastly 4 boob look caused when the cup size is too small. Then there's the checking of the bulges elsewhere. Having made my purchases I came home and had to have a ruthless clearout of the underwear drawer in order to fit all the new under garments in. Does the charity shop accept 2nd hand bras in good condtion?
Size does matter. Case closed.
Friday 12 February 2010
Musings of a 30-something single...
Okay, so it's Valentines weekend and I'm single. Thankfully I'm not a fan of any of that schmaltzy contrived 'I love you' nonsense otherwise I'd be feeling like I was missing out. I've just spent the past few weeks having great fun with a lovely guy but he just wan't the guy for little old me. I'm not sure there is a perfect fit for me. Mainly beuase I'm not sure what it is I'm looking for but it's fun finding out nonetheless.
Instead of waiting by the letterbox for the cards that will never come, I've planned a weekend full of catching up with me and I'm looking forward to it.
Time by oneself is equally as important as time with a loved one and if you can't enjoy your own company, how can you expect someone else to enjoy it? The most important relationship you'll ever have in life is the one you have with yourself.
So on with the job of enjoying a friday night...the takeaway is on speed dial, the champagne is chilling in the fridge and the phone is switched off....lovely.
Instead of waiting by the letterbox for the cards that will never come, I've planned a weekend full of catching up with me and I'm looking forward to it.
Time by oneself is equally as important as time with a loved one and if you can't enjoy your own company, how can you expect someone else to enjoy it? The most important relationship you'll ever have in life is the one you have with yourself.
So on with the job of enjoying a friday night...the takeaway is on speed dial, the champagne is chilling in the fridge and the phone is switched off....lovely.
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