It's funny how an anniversary can drive you just a little bit bonkers.
My birthday regularly sends me into a spiral of worrying about me not getting far enough in my life, whether its in my work or personal life.
I normally embark on a weird path of resistance - some crazy diet, a new outfit, a dvd marathon of bad romcoms or just having the girls round so we can tell tales, eat and drink and generally behave very badly.
For the past four years Sept 19th (H's birthday), always makes me a little sad and I won't lie, I find myself wondering how he's doing, regardless of me knowing how completely toxic he is for me.
My blues usually last for a few hours, then the trigger of his wife, children and totally perfect life, trips me neatly into a reality check of my past self inflicted stupidity, along with my mantra that you shouldn't care about someone who doesn't care about you.
Long after those first embers of lust have died, a date and a place can remind you of the situation and that certain someone so much that just for a moment you are completely overwhelmed.
Last night I settled down in front of my favourite guilty pleasure Big B and was sucked into the plight of poor C. Divorced after just 9 pathetic months, the day what would have been their fourth wedding anniversary, she found herself in house with her ex husband, totally wrecked.
"I still care about him. And yes I still love him, but I know it's over".
Poor cow, needs a hug I thought. To still be holding on to the past after so long, when Mr Wrong has so clearly moved on, is just a little tragic.
Of course, her ex has a new girlfriend who he is so into, he's got her name tattooed on his arm - the ultimate indicator of a soon to be over relationship !
I hope that C finds the strength to put the past to bed, learns her lesson and moves on to find happiness with the real deal, not someone who was the illusion of it.
Friday, 27 August 2010
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
How Did The Big Date Go?
Well Carrie got Big and I landed myself a mixed up, funny, vaguely nuts fortysomething whose take on dating is to examine the hell out of a potential romance.
G arrived for our date, immediately eliminating my fear of a no-show (you all know why!). I was finishing off one of those difficult meetings, which actually turned out better than I thought it would. When I got back to my desk, he had already called.
When I arrived, I was greeted by a tall, dark man with the remnants of an 80s floppy wedge haircut and the kind of middle age spread, which usually happens after a guy abandons the gym, doesn't play enough rounds of golf and gives into multiple business lunches. He was still kinda cute.
Our conversation was light and fun. He talked about work a lot. Why do some guys do that? It's almost as if they feel they are defining their status as a potential mate, by banging on about how successful they are.
He name dropped... a lot, but before I knew it, we had talked away an hour and he leaned in for the cheek to cheek.
"I don't want to compromise you in case any of your work colleagues are walking by".
"Don't worry" I said cheekily, "I'll tell them your my Dad.
We both laughed and just a few minutes later, he texted me to say when he would be online.
After the usual techie hiccup, which always happens when you actually want to talk to someone online we talked. It was all going well until the prickly subject of children reared its indelicate head.
"So do you think our genes are compatible?" he typed...
"Well you ain't ugly and I'm not either, so I guess our kids will be amazing looking", I replied chirpily.
"So you want kids?"
"Hell yeah!" I quipped - big mistake !!
"With me?"
"Well we've just had coffee so it's a little premature!" I responsed like the smartarse I am.
"Explain your comments further and in more detail", was his response.
I felt like I was in the middle of some life exam, with all of my responses being assessed and individually scored. Everytime I tried to steer the conversation to more fluffy topics, he kept going on about that one comment. Over and over.
Then we crossed that boundary that we are all super cautious of when we first meet someone new poetry aka sex. While some women often revel in the getting to know you process, some men just want to cut to the chase and hit smutville with all guns blazing as soon as possible.
Don't get me wrong I enjoy a touch of smut just as much as the next woman (H's text messages have spoilt me for life, as no one has quite matched up to his particular style of cheeky texts!), but after one latte......ppppppplease!
"So how do you like your poetry?"
"Sorry I don't want to talk about that now and online"
"But I need to hear something from you", was his reply
"I've only just met you. I'm not going to get your rocks off online, because you asked me to", I replied.
"I hope you don't think I've been too intrustive with my questioning of you. I just need to be sure of some things. So any questions for me?" he asked hopefully.
"No questions" I said, glad to end the conversation.
A person has every right to ask questions of a perspective love interest, how else will you get to know somebody. But when the questions take the form of a court examination and some of them are frankly so blantantly inappropriate, particularly when you literally just met; then the only impression you can get of your examiner is a very negative one.
G arrived for our date, immediately eliminating my fear of a no-show (you all know why!). I was finishing off one of those difficult meetings, which actually turned out better than I thought it would. When I got back to my desk, he had already called.
When I arrived, I was greeted by a tall, dark man with the remnants of an 80s floppy wedge haircut and the kind of middle age spread, which usually happens after a guy abandons the gym, doesn't play enough rounds of golf and gives into multiple business lunches. He was still kinda cute.
Our conversation was light and fun. He talked about work a lot. Why do some guys do that? It's almost as if they feel they are defining their status as a potential mate, by banging on about how successful they are.
He name dropped... a lot, but before I knew it, we had talked away an hour and he leaned in for the cheek to cheek.
"I don't want to compromise you in case any of your work colleagues are walking by".
"Don't worry" I said cheekily, "I'll tell them your my Dad.
We both laughed and just a few minutes later, he texted me to say when he would be online.
After the usual techie hiccup, which always happens when you actually want to talk to someone online we talked. It was all going well until the prickly subject of children reared its indelicate head.
"So do you think our genes are compatible?" he typed...
"Well you ain't ugly and I'm not either, so I guess our kids will be amazing looking", I replied chirpily.
"So you want kids?"
"Hell yeah!" I quipped - big mistake !!
"With me?"
"Well we've just had coffee so it's a little premature!" I responsed like the smartarse I am.
"Explain your comments further and in more detail", was his response.
I felt like I was in the middle of some life exam, with all of my responses being assessed and individually scored. Everytime I tried to steer the conversation to more fluffy topics, he kept going on about that one comment. Over and over.
Then we crossed that boundary that we are all super cautious of when we first meet someone new poetry aka sex. While some women often revel in the getting to know you process, some men just want to cut to the chase and hit smutville with all guns blazing as soon as possible.
Don't get me wrong I enjoy a touch of smut just as much as the next woman (H's text messages have spoilt me for life, as no one has quite matched up to his particular style of cheeky texts!), but after one latte......ppppppplease!
"So how do you like your poetry?"
"Sorry I don't want to talk about that now and online"
"But I need to hear something from you", was his reply
"I've only just met you. I'm not going to get your rocks off online, because you asked me to", I replied.
"I hope you don't think I've been too intrustive with my questioning of you. I just need to be sure of some things. So any questions for me?" he asked hopefully.
"No questions" I said, glad to end the conversation.
A person has every right to ask questions of a perspective love interest, how else will you get to know somebody. But when the questions take the form of a court examination and some of them are frankly so blantantly inappropriate, particularly when you literally just met; then the only impression you can get of your examiner is a very negative one.
Monday, 23 August 2010
Has This Diva Met Her Match ?
I am officially petrified. I have a coffee date tomorrow with a smart, eligible available(well separated, but I'll let that one slide!)man. We've been talking for a while and so far, it's all been good.
I should be happy, but I've just spent an hour choosing what to wear and the next hour after that worrying about what might go wrong.Is he going to be a Bolter or is he another H - all heat then lies.
In just 24 hours we will know....fingers crossed!
I should be happy, but I've just spent an hour choosing what to wear and the next hour after that worrying about what might go wrong.Is he going to be a Bolter or is he another H - all heat then lies.
In just 24 hours we will know....fingers crossed!
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Crazy Day
Today has been on of those weird days where just as quickly as I had solved a problem, another one popped up!
I started the day with a surprise new joiner, who no one knew about. One email trail and several touchdowns with HR later and an erroneously filed piece of paperwork, was revealed as the culprit, that had somehow managed to attribute our new joiner as joining entirely the wrong team.
By the end of the day I had attended four meetings (one which last an epic two and half hours), taken more notes than is ever truly sensible and filled up my to do list twice over .....oh and before I forget I booked my trip to Miami.....
I can't wait!
I started the day with a surprise new joiner, who no one knew about. One email trail and several touchdowns with HR later and an erroneously filed piece of paperwork, was revealed as the culprit, that had somehow managed to attribute our new joiner as joining entirely the wrong team.
By the end of the day I had attended four meetings (one which last an epic two and half hours), taken more notes than is ever truly sensible and filled up my to do list twice over .....oh and before I forget I booked my trip to Miami.....
I can't wait!
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Looks Can Be Deceiving !
We are always told that being great looking is the ultimate leg up in life. A great looking face can attract you, grab your attention, sometimes distract you so badly that you can't see anything else. But sometimes that very same outer beauty can mask a world of pain that nobody but you knows about.
Having got to hang out with my old team last week - still love my team !!! This week my love affair with my new team is blossoming and as usual, I am stil learning more stuff about me and how I relate to people.
In the past I would definitely say I've been a sharer, exchanging like for like experience both professional and personal. Now I am much more closed off about me - it allows me to be approachable, but definitely more professional
Don't get me wrong. I am still the same passionate personality that I've always been. But I don't care about every single tiny detail in work and life, 130% like I've done in the past.
One because it is completely exhausting and two because more than likely whatever the debate or issue is about, my opponent be it a person or an organisation will never care as much are expend as much energy as I do, when I getting wrapped up in a situation or a person.
It doesn't of course stop me from being a smartarse, but a funny one so I've been told. On the bank of desks I sit in, we all talk, negotiate, email and work our way through the day. Everyone is on the team is just as feisty as I am, or so I thought.
Our resident Ms Thang is a Latino princess, with a killer wardrobe. She always look immaculate. She has a handspan waistline, perfectly proportioned body, tiny feet - so tiny that they are only size left in the shop, when you nab that elusive hot pair of sales shoes (only to find they aren't in you size!) and a face that would send JLO to a plastic surgeon.
We are thankfully divided from sitting directly alongside each other, but another member of the team,, but for whatever reason it hasn't stopped us from developing one of those annoying little sister relationships that amuses us and others.
I've always known she was bright and funny but, I must admit she kind of intimidated me by being so pretty and irritatingly nice with it. I thought she had it all until today when she ran through her morning duties before she goes to work.
She wakes up early to cook for her boyfriend, lays out his clothes, makes sure his belt is already put in his trousers ( so he doesn't have to look for it) polishes his shoes and once he is in the shirt, she does his buttons up for him (including the cuffs) and puts his tie on.
In return for this, he tells her to be a good girl and to have dinner ready on time for him in the evening. I thought Sleeping with the Enemy was just a movie, but here was a Julia Roberts clone living and breathing right in front of me.
By the time I had finished hearing about just how jealous her boyfriend gets (which explains why she has no friends) and the fact that he 'lets' her pay all the household bills, while he pays the mortgage and in return he refuses to put her name on it with his; any smidgeon of envy I had about her was gone.
It's funny how we associate certain qualities like happiness, success, triple A love and easy lives with beautiful people. You never ever think that the pretty girl has problems just like you or sometimes even has it even worse.
Life continues to keep throwing us those curve balls that make us realise that the grass isn't always greener on the other side.
Having got to hang out with my old team last week - still love my team !!! This week my love affair with my new team is blossoming and as usual, I am stil learning more stuff about me and how I relate to people.
In the past I would definitely say I've been a sharer, exchanging like for like experience both professional and personal. Now I am much more closed off about me - it allows me to be approachable, but definitely more professional
Don't get me wrong. I am still the same passionate personality that I've always been. But I don't care about every single tiny detail in work and life, 130% like I've done in the past.
One because it is completely exhausting and two because more than likely whatever the debate or issue is about, my opponent be it a person or an organisation will never care as much are expend as much energy as I do, when I getting wrapped up in a situation or a person.
It doesn't of course stop me from being a smartarse, but a funny one so I've been told. On the bank of desks I sit in, we all talk, negotiate, email and work our way through the day. Everyone is on the team is just as feisty as I am, or so I thought.
Our resident Ms Thang is a Latino princess, with a killer wardrobe. She always look immaculate. She has a handspan waistline, perfectly proportioned body, tiny feet - so tiny that they are only size left in the shop, when you nab that elusive hot pair of sales shoes (only to find they aren't in you size!) and a face that would send JLO to a plastic surgeon.
We are thankfully divided from sitting directly alongside each other, but another member of the team,, but for whatever reason it hasn't stopped us from developing one of those annoying little sister relationships that amuses us and others.
I've always known she was bright and funny but, I must admit she kind of intimidated me by being so pretty and irritatingly nice with it. I thought she had it all until today when she ran through her morning duties before she goes to work.
She wakes up early to cook for her boyfriend, lays out his clothes, makes sure his belt is already put in his trousers ( so he doesn't have to look for it) polishes his shoes and once he is in the shirt, she does his buttons up for him (including the cuffs) and puts his tie on.
In return for this, he tells her to be a good girl and to have dinner ready on time for him in the evening. I thought Sleeping with the Enemy was just a movie, but here was a Julia Roberts clone living and breathing right in front of me.
By the time I had finished hearing about just how jealous her boyfriend gets (which explains why she has no friends) and the fact that he 'lets' her pay all the household bills, while he pays the mortgage and in return he refuses to put her name on it with his; any smidgeon of envy I had about her was gone.
It's funny how we associate certain qualities like happiness, success, triple A love and easy lives with beautiful people. You never ever think that the pretty girl has problems just like you or sometimes even has it even worse.
Life continues to keep throwing us those curve balls that make us realise that the grass isn't always greener on the other side.
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