The New Man

Well I finally caught up with G today and it was great. She was her normal, scatty, funny, nutty self, in short on top form- still with the Fool, but hey a diva can't make all her wishes come true, can she?. I've really missed my favourite little Aussie munchkin and our gossip fests.

Part of our gossip involved my new man. When did this happen, I hear you ask? Exactly four days ago, but strangely it feels like months already.

DG is 27, Welsh (fortunately I like the accent!), likes rugby and bikes, is gorgeous, funny and the father of a too cute son. I like him - there I said it, and on my normal track record, this should mean that within the next week he will be revealed to us all as, a liar, cheat , player or just an arse.

In this case I have my fingers crossed that he's a good guy, because I know there are still some good ones left out there!

The Return of G

As you all know I have spent most of 2009, praying my favourite nutty friend G would wake up, smell the coffee of life and dump The Fool. We have had several 'fireside chats' when I have been quite upfront about just how much I dislike him, while listening to her protestations about how great he is, some of the time!.

So great in fact that me and her other friends never see her anymore. I'd given up all hope of reconnecting with her, until she texted me today and asked whether she could buy me dinner this weekend. "Yes", I replied, "So long as the catch up is just with you". "Yes" was the curt reply.

I am already wondering what bombshell she is about to drop me this time. Are they engaged ? Has she gone blonde? (God I hope not, she is a terrible blonde! The colour is way too harsh on her!) Or has she finally realised, that no diva is an island and long after the latest 'flavour of the month' has packed up and moved on, your friends will still be around.

The Invisible Man

First I would like to apologise to G, who I blew out as well as my regular gym session, for a date or rather a non-descript date.

Non-descript dates are those dates that you think just might be ok, but actually turn out to be well, very, very dull. I sensed that this particular hook up probably wasn't going to be a vintage one, when WP called yesterday to cancel due to work.

Not a problem as I've never met him before and there is absolutely no point in ruffling your feathers, when your potential date calls you early to cancel.

The next day - now new date day, playing it super casual I texted at 5pm to see if we were still on. "Still on, looking forward to meeting you -x-". So I shut down my laptop, reapplied my lipstick and headed over to Starbucks.

His arrival on time was welcome, but my heart sank when I laid eyes on a super skinny man, with a concave shiny, bald head and all the sex appeal of a lightly boiled egg.

Politeness, curiousity and pity (for him not me!)meant that two hours, two mince pies (one each!) and two coffees later, I emerged from Starbucks drained of all enthusiasm, energy and empathy, having 'enjoyed' the company of a limp, intense, joyless man, who declared himself 'happy and lucky' but clearly neither!

It seemed my happy-go-lucky, chatty self, made an equal impression on WP, as when I checked online later to pick up my latest 'dating' emails, his profile flashed up as being online. Clearly he had already gone back to the drawing board to try and find someone as dull and boring as himself.

It's funny how we delude ourselves about how well those dates that we want to work have gone, but when you've been on a rubbish one, there's no hiding from the truth! Next!

POSTSCRIPT - Unbelievably I have just received a text from the invisible man, telling me what a lovely time he had with me and asking me how my day was. Weird - perhaps he thinks I'm someone else!

It's All About the Picture

So let's cut to the chase, because you know you want to know. Has the Dane been in contact? In a word no. Absolutely no surprise though. One, I made myself look like a total tool with my last email and next you know when you just know, that someone's having a bit of fun, well that's exactly what it was.

When I saw him happily online, chatting to someone else, I had to smile. The good thing is, though that our little flirtation was the boost I needed to revitalise my taking care of myself regime.

Let's just say I am definitely no slacker in working out. I enjoy the buzz, of walking out of the gym and knowing that I've just done a major workout. But somehow the whole healthy eating "my body is a temple" gig has always been a little beyond me, until now.

Slowly, but surely in the past two weeks I've been turning things around, aided by A's bullying encouragement, I have been ditching the junk, and replacing it with the good stuff and hey I'm already noticing the difference in terms of my energy levels and shape.

Which led me to another change. When I first starting virtual dating, all the guys I knew said that the one essential element to any online profile for a woman was the picture that went with it. I managed to dig out a okish shot that passed the boys' test for being suitably alluring and I thought I was doing ok until yesterday.

Buoyed by my new look, I got A, to wave his magic photo lens over me and make me a supermodel. The results, got me more hits than I have ever had in a single day, which left me pondering - the Dane who!

Calamity BB Strikes Again !

They say that some things are just not meant to be and the Dane it would appear now falls under this category.

Having I thought excelled myself in demonstrating both a competitive dating spirit, creativity andblagged lingustic skills (curtesy of an online translator tool!), I have just been told by A, that these translation tools are in short crap, as they tend to give literal meanings as opposed more flexible multi-meanings - leaving the Dane with the impression that I am a total nutcase!

A having comprehensively proved to me that phrasebooks and the internet are no match for actually learning a language, made me laugh by telling me what a loser I was. My response was of course to laugh my head off, because well it is funny isn't it? That will teach me to be such a smart arse !

Ok A, You Said Do Something About the Dane So I Did...

There are some tantalising morsels of beefcake that a diva just can't wave goodbye to without a fight. And the Dane is one of them. He's handsome, funny and smart. A beautiful rarity who leaves a girl hot and bothered just from talking to her.

Having consulted my favourite love guru A, I was sent away with these salient words of wisdom. " Remember he is good looking and good looking guys don't have to chase anybody. They just get chased!"

And my favourite A recommendation, which was to send the Dane a message telling him to come and "Visit my cha cha!", which had the pair of us howling so much that we were in danger of dropping our lattes and not making it through the security gates, back upstairs to our office.

What I adore about A is his attitude to love and the fact that while it is good to put some effort into the dating thing, you have to have some fun with it too. Undoubtedly it is one of the best things I've learnt this year, along with not raining on your own parade too much, because you didn't manage to hook up with that man, woman or love freak you wanted to.

Sure chemistry and perception of it by one or both sides can be a little off-centre (look at me and M - I thought we were hot...he most certainly did not!).

What do I think my chances are with the Dane. In my head - we are dirty, red hot, bad, mad and dangerous to know. But in reality the deck of love cards is firmly stacked against me.

Did I take A's advice? Sort of but not so explicitly - I sent a cheeky 'come and get me' message, translated into Danish (no, not be me, I used an internet language translator!) to show my creativity and willingness to stand out from my competition.

Result - well who knows? My experience of men tells me absolutely nothing. I am completely inept at figuring out what their thinking, their next moves, but it doesn't mean I can't have any fun trying to work them out!

It could really go either way with the Dane but one thing's for sure, instead of thinking I may not be good enough, this time I've thrown my hat into the dating arena and at least joined the race to to win the man and that is really what this merry-go-round is all about. Putting yourself out there and seeing what happens.

Good Girl Gone Bad!

After x many years of being an archtypical good girl, I have decided to do a 360 and tap into my inner nasty girl and have some not too clean fun!

Unfortunately this turn of events has also coincided with two things. First, the disappearance of 'the beautiful one' aka 'The Dane', who of course was way too gorgeous to wait around for this good girl to drop her drawers for him. In this case, I honestly can't blame him though, his body was too beautiful to be enjoyed by just one woman!

Second, is my realisation, that younger guys may be hot, sexy and permanently horny, but generally don't have a lot to say for themselves when they're not horizontal with you. My conversations with R have been akin to talking to a reluctant teenager, chosing to selectively hear what you are saying to them; but wishing they could play their X-box without being distracted!

Being a good girl I was always told, would mean that you had the respect of your peers and potential partners alike. As said good girl, I have never experienced the horror of waking up beside a stranger whose name I can't quite remember.

Nor have I been annoyed with both him and myself as before the wine (or in my case sugar rush) kicked in, I had absolutely no intention of sleeping with him. No, I have missed that particular adventure out of my non-dating journal - special thanks to J, for telling me all about her episode of this though! I confirm I have now stopped laughing!

The reality is although I've never really had any long-term esteem issues (some minor wobbles like most people, two days max followed by my usual can't be bothered to be miserable about it anymore moment!). I can't help thinking that I might be missing out on some meaningless, but naughty fun.

I have vowed that next time the opportunity arises, I am going to go for it. After all even nice girls can be naughty sometimes right! I can just call it my dirty little secret or secrets, depending on how lucky and bad I am going to be!

The Wonder of You !

In a life that is full of running around, meetings, deadlines and trying to manage the expectations of ourselves and others; we would all do well to stop and consider that all work and no play could leave you a jaded, loveless diva. This week the entire hours I have worked are well in excess of my contracted 40 hours, but this is nothing new with me.

My extra hours are to a) keep my job and the wolf HWMBO away from my door and b) in a fruitless attempt to somehow get ahead on my To Do list which never quite seems to happen. I am surrounded by friends and colleagues who put themselves on the line every day, in pursuit of the praise of their bosses, the industry they work in and a decent pay cheque.

But what if this thirst for career glory means everything else goes to pot? What if you live to work? Not work to live? This year five of my closest friends have between them moved abroad to start dream jobs, met the man of their dreams, got married and in two cases had their second babies. All of them are ridculously happy and deservedly so.

My only real accomplishments this year, have been getting my degree - something which finally laid the ghost of me being a college dropout to rest, not just in my parents eyes who have never let me forget my 'failure', but in my own default ability to start big things and once the shiny newness of it all has evaporated, quietly 'forget' to finish them.

And let's not forget my baby - this blog, which I am proud of as it's given a voice to my opinions and connected me with people, (other than the loyal 12 who you see alongside side each entry), who I would never otherwise known about or be in contact with, through the wonderful world of Twitter.

As this year comes to a close, it is blindingly obvious that for years I have put all of my eggs in one basket - my career - only to found out like so many others, that a life without balance between professional and personal can be and feel just a little empty sometimes; regardless of however 'popular' you are in the world around you. Time to shake things up again BB methinks!

What Goes Round Comes Around !

Well it's finally happened. After months of being told how utterly useless I am daily (in his opinion only!), HWMBO has got a taste of his own medicine, curtesy of a little feedback/payback from his DRs.

The realisation that if anyone has to work on themselves then it's him was kind of shocking for him to take onboard. At the end of the day he appeared drained and disillusioned. I asked him how he was.

"In a difficult place, having heard everyone's views, I have a lot to think about", he replied just a little forlornly. "Well", I said pausing cheerily "If anyone can push through this tough time it's you. After all we are in the same boat". I swear, I positively skipped out of his office.

That bitch known as karma continues to bite anyone who thinks they are bigger than her!

When Did I Become A Cougar ?

Having failed somewhat miserably to find a man of of my own age, who is stable, emotionally available, somewhat solvent and generally sane, I have moved onto to younger men; or rather they have made their way into my life.

R told me that he thought I was lovely, genuine and he really wanted to get to know me more. While "The Dane" just cut to the chase and described in explicit detail exactly what he wanted to do with and to me.

I have concluded that sub 30 men are indeed worthy of further exploration in terms of their energy levels, earnest nature and little boy lost personas; which is a welcome constant to their sometimes jaded older rivals.

At closer quarters, since the last time we spoke C has become my housemate. He is adorable, loves cooking, resembles a small puppy in terms of his sheer enthusiasm, is funny (although he does have the tendency to kill a joke stone dead by referring back to it constantly, normally over the space of 24 hours and in doing so reminds me of my ex RG, who always thought he was way more funny then he actually was).

Rather oddly it already feels like I am living with a naughty younger brother, but the reality of having another person, who is so clearly mentally younger, then me in my space, has been sharply brought home by a few niggly habits he has exhibited.

He leaves his tea mug on the floor by the sofa, instead of taking it to the kitchen and washing it up. When he does remember to pick it up, he thinks that by leaving it in the sink, the kitchen fairies will wash it up for him in the night.

Having been gently steered to remove his socks from our drying rack, he did as he was told, but then left the now empty drying rack standing - why the hell he didn't take it down, it clearly wasn't needed any more.

He yawns loudly like a cat repeatedly, says he's tired and then just like a small child, struggles to stay up late.....on a school night! Go to bed C, we all need our sleep!

If he is the typical example of a younger man, then I think I will confine my exchanges with them to dates, dinner and a few random naughty moments. Much less hard work, unless of course I meet one of them who gives me the challenge i'm looking for!

Epilogue - My Big Day !

I thought the day after was supposed to be pants....but it wasn't. HWMBO was surprisingly calm....well as calm as he can be. M had held the fort like a trouper, despite L being off sick and throughout the day I had friends calling me and colleagues coming up to ask how my graduation went.

I stayed late to finish off a few things in the office and then headed off to the supermarket, having been blown out by G yet again. The whole G siuation is definitely no pissing me off - this time no excuse, not even a phone call. I feel a clear the air moment coming on or a parting of the ways is on the cards. I don't do frienemies !

Just as I was scanning my groceries, my phone rang. I have learnt the hard way, that diving around in your bag, trying to retrieve a ringing phone, before it stops ringing is like hoping that dropped toast will land butter side up, it's 50:50.

When I checked my phone later, I found a voicemail from my Dad on it. "B, I just wanted to say congratulations again and talk to you. I'm so proud of you, very proud!" I called him right back, we caught up on our days and ended on our signature "Love you!".

He may be grouchy sometimes, funny as hell (all the time!), wise beyond words and probably the most judgemental person I know, but he has a heart of gold and is the real deal! If I can find a man half as good as him, then I will have found a prize indeed.

My Big Day!

I woke up feeling apprehensive, nervous and just a little anxious. Two reminder phone calls later to my Dad and always late sister and my nerves were soon in check.

I went to pick up my gown...two and a half hours early, just in case! While the hat actually managed to fit over my head and date worthy-worthy uncontrollable weave (don't you find ladies, whenever you are about to go that all important first date you either get a spot outbreak or a bad hair day; or if you are really unlucky both!).

My hire gown was of course, missing the necessary button to hold it in place over my carefully chosen outfit. Being a diva in a state of permanent 'just in case of an emergency' alert and possessing a bag, that truly has everything but the kitchen sink in it, I was able to find two safety pins, so I could pin my gown firmly to me and stop it sliding off.

By 1:30 my Dad had called twice from a speeding taxi cab to let me know he was enroute and when he eventually arrived at 1:45, I couldn't have been more relieved. He looked super sharp, in a beautiful suit, long overcoat and trilby hat. He smiled broadly at me as he got out of the taxi. Not his usual Dad smile, one of those super proud ones, which he reels out once in a blue moon.

By the time I took my seat with the rest of the graduates, my sister and nephew were predictably nowhere to be seen and my nightmare about tripping up the stairs, while collecting my graduation scroll was gnawing away at me.

I counted down the graduates in front of me, felt my mouth go dry then took to the stairs..., negotiated them safely before, gliding off the other end of the stage...job done! All that remained was for me to high five my buddy Judith, be reunited with my family and laugh my socks off at my sister being, well my sister.

Yes, she kept it real, looked absolutely gorgeous and managed to keep her bling habit under control, but it didn't stop her being her usual outrageous self. Arriving with just one ticket between her and my nephew, she somehow talked another graduation guest into moving to another seat, so he could sit beside her. My family you got to love them !

Home and Compromise.

Letting someone into my heart is something I always do unconditionally, way too often and invariably with the wrong person; but hey one day I'll crack it. Letting someone into my home, well that is another matter entirely.

On Saturday my new tenant moves in. In preparation for this event I have decluttered my second bedroom aka my dressing room and returned it to the anonoymous shell it was when I first brought my house five years ago.

Standing in the room, I remembered how bare it once was, with nothing in it but my bed in a box and a single picture on the wall. Downstairs wasn't much better, having rented for years, I'd amassed four suitcases and three boxes as my sum total of worldly goods.

On my first night in the house, I remember crying with joy at the thought that no one could ever again tell me that I had to move out, couldn't decorate, have a pet or hold a wild party. Since then I have revelled in having my own space.

Not having to deal with somone else's mess, leaving my things wherever I want to, padding to the fridge in my bra and pants and not having to negotiate about who has the remote control or which side of the sofa I sit on.

After three false starts with female housemates whohad major league boyfriend (existing and revolving door ones!) and family issues, then of course there's the young lady who managed to block my drains with her habbit of flushing non-biogradable beauty wipes down the toilet, I had pretty much had enough, until S suggested I meet his friend C.

C is quiet, laid-back, calm, funny and quirky, and scored bonus brownie points for nodded in all the right places when I told him about M. Yep, C is the complete opposite of me, which is why I feel that this houseshare just may work. Oh and before I forget C loves to cook...no DIY skills though....well a diva can't have everything can she?

Just one last thing for those of any of you who read the blog and have your fingers crossed for that fairytale ending for me...of course I don't fancy C....sod's law right?

Anti-Climax !

I am 48 hours away from my much longed for graduation and I have to say I'm kind of underwhelmed. My friends appear to forgotten about it or just not be that bothered about it - "You were always going to pass!" and my nutty sister is threatening to out bling everyone in the graduation hall just to freak me out.

My Dad hasn't been feeling the greatest and confessed tonight that it's 50:50 as to whether he'll make it or not. In short, what the hell is going on?

My highpoint has surprisingly come from work. My team who you know I love, gathered around my desk at the end of the day, along with HWMBO and gave me a card and a red letter day experience. I was really touched, particualarly when HWMBO took me by surprise with a speech and and a Dad hug...totally surreal !

Snuggled up on my sofa later, I turned the day around in my head and instead of worrying about who is or isn't bothered about my graduation or just what I am up to in general, I thought about all the time and effort I'd put into getting this darned degree and every else I've achieved this year, and just for once instead of worrying about everyone else and making sure they are ok, I was proud of myself. So roll on Wednesday and please, please don't let me trip up !