Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Unexpected Help & Inappropriate Behaviour

I love the fact that your day can be transformed by by one positive interaction.

Mine was gleaned through talking with relatively new acquaintance in my life. She was so enthusiastic about her work and life, so firm in her belief that good stuff is just around the corner for me, that she gave me a much needed shot in the arm.

In the past 24 hours, I have been shot down by an IT guru whose indifference to my request for help was really disappointing, but has of course motivated me to do the job myself.

I have finally entered the 21st century and brought myself an iphone - go me !!!

I have sat beside a woman who wantonly tweezering her chin, in horror of horrors public - on a bus! Backlit beautifully by a glorious sun and tragically well before my breakfast, which I couldn't face, after such a shocking beauty debunking moment from her.

I rescued a woman who was so drunk she could barely stand. In fact when she dropped her phone, bag and keys, I swooped down, picked everything up and returned to them her, for fear of her falling and not being able to get up again !!

Lunch with N was good, if a little sombre on her side. It's hard to see such an amazing, gifted individual not be given a real opportunity to shine and deliver especially with such a diverse skillset as hers.

Then I got an email from S saying he'd missed out the big job who was up for grrr....there must be something in the air.

It wasn't all grim though. Every single task I was working on today, although way, way too complicated actually got done. I know it sounds pathetic, but I love crossing things off my list.

Which can only mean one thing - I am turning into a grown-up!!

Sunday, 19 June 2011

The Perfect Diet

I have run from many things in my life.

Bad hairdressers, wearing tulip skirts, dodgy school dinners, electric blue eyeliner (really doesn’t look great on anyone, even a supermodel!) and of course the odd bad boy or two; but today, I speak to you as a fugitive from the scariest institute known to the wonderful world of food,

'A Slimming Club's New Joiners Session'

Actually I'm a proxy fugitive, as I only came along to give some moral support to A, who announced she was joining a slimming club as we tucked into a steak and salad lunch.

I responded that I had to come along, just in case the group leader was a Little Britain Marjorie Dawes clone and of course to satisfy my own sense of mischief.

Not mischief making against the brave ladies who had decided to fine tune their bodies into well, slighter better versions of what they already have.

No, I am talking about witnessing the workings of a 'cult', that sows the seed in you, that grows and ‘makes’ you redefne your entire food intake in the currency of points.

Come on, let's be honest how boring is that?

I'm not what you call 'a Skinnie Minnie', I'd say I'm more
a 'Boootyilicious BB'.

I eat what I like and my only concession to staying slim is to move around a lot all day, so my food doesn't morph my stomach and bum into a full eclipse!

We were right on track until we stood queuing to get in to the session.

While I noticed we were by far the skinniest ladies in the room, A noticed the rather smug weight loss leader, eyeing up her new congregation with all the hunger of hyena relishing the prospect of eating its prey.

She turned to me and said in semi-dramatic fashion,

"I just can't do it!"

"For real?" I said smirking.

"Yes",she replied gravely.

"Let's go. I want to go. I want to go now!"

"Excuse us, she's changed her mind"

I said loudly, ushering A past the snake line of ladies queuing up behind us.

"What shall we do now?"

I said, having made A collapse into a giggling fit, first by doing a brilliant impression of her ‘diet break’ and then by showing her just how us catwalk models (which is effectively what we were at the club!) can strut even while in a gym car park, in a pair of trainers. I know, how totally glam of me !

"What about Eton Mess and a latte?"

We practically skipped to the restaurant, first securing ourselves a comfortable people watching slot, then congratulating ourselves for being 'dangerous diet rebels' !.

"Suppose it back to Zumba and running"

A said, shovelling a spoonful of meringue and cream, so enthusiastically that the cream exploded on either side of her mouth.

We both fell about laughing and reminded me of just why she's my BF !

I'm all for nurturing beautiful minds and working at having a healthy, fit body, but the idea of denying yourself food seems incredibly harsh. I say eat what you want, but just move around a little bit more.

Now that's what I call a perfect diet !

Tuesday, 14 June 2011

Back To The Future 2

How did it oh...exactly how real life goes...we all get those situations and then have to make choices in response to them.

He looked great, a little thicker around the middle definitely, but the same sexy voice, dancing eyes and massive....hands!

We went to dinner by the river and weirdly things were exactly the same with us.. The same old banter, intertwined with conversation about everything that had happened in our lives since the last time we met.

So the big question, which you and I both already knew the answer to before I arrived ....yes he's still married with a child oh no it's H-Bomb all over again... Well not this time, lesson learned !!

As we said goodbye he made his move and I dodged. Don't get me wrong one snog with him would have ended my interminal snog/sex drought in one very naughty double whammy. But doing that would only have put me on another head on lust collusion.

I truly believe now what goes around comes around and bearing in mind the fallout from the H-Bomb, I never want to put myself in that spot again.

So I just walked away, admitedly frustrated as hell to walk away from 'a sure thing', but I still walked away. Now that's a result. He texted me of course. Six cheeky times!

I thanked him for a lovely evening.

Will I be seeing him again?


Time to let sleeping dogs lie methinks.

Monday, 13 June 2011

Back To The Future 1

There comes a time as a long time singleton when your near misses, rear their heads for a second time, alongside the could ofs, would ofs and should ofs.

Today it was my turn. SD was a massive office crush I had at my second ever job. He was bright, funny and surprisingly for me good looking and very tall.

He was of course already taken and strangely enough when I was younger, I actually had the good sense to only be his friend, albeit one very naughty steamy Christmas snog, which was great, but had the unfortunate edge of making me realise what I was missing out on.

He moved onto a new job. We stayed in touch for a while before inevitably drifting apart after he got married and became a Dad.

My Linked In mail box flash up:

'SD Join My Linked In Network'

I recognised his name instantly, enlarged his profile picture and there he was, looking a little heavier, but essentially looking just the same.

I accepted the request, dropped a quick hello and thought that would be it, until

"Well hello to you, dear BB.

I'm not a regular user of Facebook or LinkedIn, but I have looked for you a few times without any success. I hope you are well.

I am actually in the Smoke tomorrow and have a free evening, so would you be able to meet up?

Email me r text me and let me know. It's been far too long but it would be lovely to see you"

We're meeting at 7pm. I've got no expectations at all, but I'll admit, I am curious.

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Double Trouble

It never fails to amaze me how men manage to double book things.

Work stuff and social stuff I get and don't get me started on birthdays! I can understand all of those, but dates with that's being just a little too careless !

In the whole of my far from perfect dating life, I have never, ever managed to double-book men.

1) Because I have only recently embraced the very sensible idea of multi-dating and

2) I put so much preparatory effort into any of my dates (make-up, what to wear plus accessories can take me hours!!), that the thought of finding myself knee-deep in double man time on the same day, sends me into a blind panic.

Big D's online dating roundabout, which single-handedly proves to just how jammy guys are and how it must be so much easier to date as a guy; continues to provide me with some amusing moments.

He texted with the following dilemma.

"Hey you! I need your help. I've double-booked myself tomorrow. Which one do I choose? One's brand new, the other lady is repeat business. Help! What about if I try to slot them both in ? Big D x"

I of course laughed, at the sheer silliness of fhim orgetting that he'd spread himself a little too thin!

Joking aside I have everything crossed that he finds somebody nice....

Monday, 6 June 2011

Fortune Truly Favours The Brave

So a few of you have asked what precisely I mean about the man who is 'real deal' apart from the very obvious he is single, stable, practically baggage free (a real wish list moment from me!) and comfortable with himself.

Aside from intelligence and honesty, he has to be able to face his up to the hard stuff in his life. The challenges which maybe he can't automatically overcome or easily 'solve' in that practical way men do. I'm talking about the really hard 'skeleton in my closet' stuff.

That type of self awareness and ability to own your struggles, but when you are shielded by success, wealth and consequently power, owning up to your frailities, must be very hard indeed.

On Friday, I opened up my paper and saw my very favourite London Mr Big - millionaire Andreas Panayiotou, who is profoundly dyslexic, owned up to not being able to read.

This is a man who is worth close to £400 million pounds and ...he can't read. His plight made me think about all the times I've said I can't do things. All those times I've hear the word No - almost always in a career situation and just accepted it.

As I read further through the article, Andreas talked of how he worked around his 'little problem' - getting his PA to respond to his emails, memorising audio books and signs, so he could feign literary.

His reason for going public, learning the shocking statistic that one in five children of primary school age in Britain, can't read.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a household where books were standard and can still remember my weekly Saturday visit to the library with my Dad, when I was little.

I can't imagine what my life would be like without being able to read and write and for this I have to raise my hat to Andreas for being 'man enough' to tell his story.

He is an excellent role model, not just to those who believe that they can't succeed, because of their inability to read, but to the rest of us who may just be too scarced to try and overcome our own 'little problems'.

Thursday, 2 June 2011

The One With The N Word !

How laughable it was to hear celebrity hair James Brown, self proclaimed 'celebrity stylist' trying to explain away his drunken behaviour with,

"I have a mixed race nephew".

This statement in defence of his racist remarks - the repeated use of the 'N' word to stage-school founder, Ben Douglas and his dinner guest at the Bafta Awards, was bloody irritating to say the least.

His statement, sits alongside that sterotypical closet racists' cry that he or she has "black friends" and so they definitely can't be racist. However, it doesn't mitigate against holding or expressing racist thoughts or views privately or in this case very, very publicly.

One wonders whether, but for reported review about the future of Mr Brown's lucrative hair range stocked exclusively nationwide by Boots; whether Mr Brown would have 'outed' himself as a racist, complete with a grovelling apology and a sackful of excuses, in particular blaming that old devil - drink.

While I have the utmost sympathy for the insulted man, Mr Douglas I also have to wonder where his backbone was?

He says he was shocked into silence and didn't want to do a kiss and tell about the incident. Well sorry that is precisely what level you brought this serious matter down to Mr Douglas.

Sneakily giving the reader just enough information to work out the culprits' name and standing back to see whether the universe or in this instance would do the rest, is the act I think of a coward.

Mr Douglas even followed up his first expose of Mr Brown, with a review of the examination of his apology and whether it was sincere enough.

Mr Douglas complained that he couldn't think of any comebacks, so let me offer him mine.

When Mr Brown insulted you the first time, you should have make a classy, but swift exit, walked over to the nearest Bafta official and made a formal complaint about his behaviour.

I would then have asked for a cup of black coffee, returned to Mr Brown taken him to one side (conveniently within earshot of a PR or Media person), given him the coffee and the number of the Priory; which will no doubt be Mr Brown's next stop, after his admission of having a serious drink problem.

Trust me those actions alone would have made it into the papers, for sure.

Or for a more theatrical flourish and something I myself have used, when someone made the mistake of calling me the N word several times just like you, a glass of wine or water being thrown in your abusers' face.

Job done. End of!

Cornwall Day 3

Well it's my last day in Cornwall. I'm definitely coming back again.

My GiftAid Eden Project card and the lovely Badger Inn begs it. The only accessory I would need to bring is a chilled out, funny, fellow snorer !!

Wednesday, 1 June 2011

Cornwall Day 2

There's definitely a difference between in the measure of trust in the country and the city.

In the country people talk to each other. In the city its all anyone can do to avoid looking at someone, let alone talking to them.

And no greater distinction could be made than the scene we encountered today. We spent an event packed day at the Eden Project - we ended up in the Rainforest Dome, 100 feet off the ground on an iron bridge - it was unbelievable!

The tour bus from the Project took us to the train station just in time, or so we thought to catch our train. 40 minutes later, there was still no sign of a train after our original train miracleously vanished from departure board.

The horrifying news that the next train wouldn't arrive for at least another hour, sent a queue of people rushing to call home or a cab.

We called a cab and along with some other passengers going our way, waited in the car park for it.

A pretty blonde who was perched on the railway stairs, clearly waiting for a lift, stood up quickly as a dirty white Clio pulled up.

A tall brunette stepped out of the car and held the back seat forward so the blonde could get in and looked around the car park at the other people in the car park.

Two shady looking guys obviously a little worse for wear - one clutching a bottle, the other clutching a brick behind his back, called out to the brunette.

"Where are you going love?"

"St Ives", she replied cheerily

"Yes" they both chorused, moving towards the car quickly.

"Are you two gonna behave?" she said smirking

"Yes" they both said as the one with the brick, dropped it to the ground behind him, before piling into the car.

We all watched initially horrified as the car pulled away, but then collapsed into laughter at the blonde, who mouthed

"What the fuck?" and gestured at her new car companions.

"You wouldn't do that in London, would you?" said one of our car pool.

"Did you see the other guy drop his brick?" said Lolo

"You know them getting that lift, probably stopped them nicking the car they were standing by"

We all laughed again.