After such a late night, I was definitely struggling in the AM, which you wouldn't think would be that bad, except I had to meet my friend Sara for tea to catch up at 2 PM.
Made it out just in time, and when we debated where to go, we actually decided that coming back to mine for a cup of tea was the way to go. So we just sat and chatted for ages, and it was really lovely to catch up.
I have to admit, I was a bit embarrassed at my own shauenfreude, as Sara had mentioned to me that she was seeing someone, which gave me a start, given that Sara is so perpetually single. If she could be seeing someone and I'm not, what on earth is wrong with me? Yet as we spoke, I realised that "seeing someone" meant simply that she'd met a guy through online dating that she'd seen on multiple occasions but wasn't even sure if she liked. And he seemed a bit non-committal as well. (So many things with so many friends have seemed to replicate my situation with the 'silly boy', I wonder how common that sort of weird "I won't call you" relationship is?)
Still, I suppose I should be more generous and gracious, and hope that Sara finds a nice boy soon. We all deserve nice boys soon, don't you think?
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Saturday, 26 February 2011
Rugby and a Lack of Attention
Originally my plan had been to go to Body Pump class at the gym from 10-11, and then at 11 get on the Tube and go to the club so I could meet The Boyfriend Who Looks Out For Me for our squash game at noon. Yet after that crazy late night out in Cambridge the night before, I barely managed to run to the Tube at 11:20 PM, arriving at the club just at noon, with just enough time to frantically change and make my way down to the squash courts.
Yet, it was still a good game, even if I got my arse handed to me on a platter. We actually had two games, and I didn't even bother keeping score, but my squash partner did so quite accurately so I would know exactly how badly I was losing. We had some good chatter going during the game as well, although I was surprised when I mentioned that I would be seeing the Giant Australian later at the rugby game, he didn't comment on it at all. It's funny, because with boys I'm not interested in, I often enjoy getting their opinion on the guys I like, but I couldn't get any commentary here. I wonder, because he dotes on me so much, it really IS all platonic, right?
After the game I went home, showered, changed, IM'd the Young Dutchman to moan about how the Boyfriend Who Looks Out For Me had insisted on keeping score (the bastard!), and then went out to join the crowds where we would be watching the rugby. Dressed casually but cutely, hoping to strike the right balance of not looking like I'd made an effort, but devastatingly attractive all the same. After all, this was my chance to not look all sweaty and gross after a run when I saw him, right?
Arrived at the venue which was jam-packed, but still managed to find everyone and wedge myself in with the crowd. Wondered if the Giant Australian would show up at all, and so was relieved when I got a text from him asking where the group was. Yet when I looked around to potentially answer, he turned out to be right behind me! I guess there must be a delay on my phone!!
So we got to chatting and he introduced me to his childhood friend who was in town visiting for the weekend from Amsterdam (after he'd had to cancel a trip to Egypt due to all of the political unrest there at the moment). The friend offered to buy the next round of drinks, and the three of us stayed in a round-buying group for the rest of the game.
Admittedly as we started standing there chatting, the thought did occur to me, "Maybe if I drink more, he'll seem less annoying". He's just so loud at times, shouting "Unlucky!" repeatedly during the game and just being slightly obnoxious. In truth, the alcohol did help, but in retrospect perhaps the fact that I felt need of it to like him should have been a clue.
I was surprised when one of the guys in the group, Princess, mentioned that the Giant Australian was recently single. I hadn't even known he was dating anyone. But I guess that sort of explains the prolonged period of silence and then suddenly contacting me out-of-the-blue in January.
England won the game (after our dear Johnny Wilkinson came out onto the field), and then after the game we all decided to walk somewhere to go for dinner. Amazingly, we found a Belgian place that agreed to take an on-the-spot seating for 14 people, on a Saturday night. I never would have dreamed that was possible!
We did have to wait a few minutes for our table to be ready however, so we made our way into the restaurant's bar. I had to make a quick pit stop at the ladies, and so was delighted to discover when I returned that the Giant Australian made a big point about how he'd bought a drink for me. What a gentleman! (Okay, we'll ignore the part where you will note that this is standard practice for any guy I know in Clubland, but it was particularly nice for him, especially when you consider I wasn't even there and he just did it to be thoughtful).
Once our table was ready and we went in for dinner, Matt (my favourite person) insisted that I needed to sit with him. So I did, even though it put me on the very opposite end of the table from the Giant Australian. Perhaps good I suppose, in that it kept me from paying too much attention to him, even though I felt myself behaving like a toddler pulling on her mother's skirts, demanding, "Pay attention to me!"
I did enjoy the conversation at dinner with Matt, Pork Pie, and Lex, although I did find Matt's girlfriend's sister (who was also in the conversation) to be ridiculously naive in her political views. I suppose she is only 20 however, so I should cut her a break. Yet she's a classic example of why people find political discussions from college students to be overly self-righteous and annoying.
Matt did prod me to give online dating a go, and I said he could write my profile for me... I think it really bothers him that I'm one of his favourite girls and I'm single. Although as I like to point out to people, it's not really for lack of options, it's just that I can't find the RIGHT guy, the one that I don't need to drink around to find him tolerable.
Matt's girlfriend joined us (and was laughing telling me about how much her dad had enjoyed seeing me a few weeks ago, how he had a "mini-crush" on me), and then we set about trying to figure out where we would go next. We hustled the whole group out onto the street, where we lost a few people, including Pork Pie (who planted a giant wet kiss on my mouth as he said good-bye to me), but still maintained a significant group presence as we headed on.
We stopped by one bar which was way over-crowded, and then went on to O'Neil's, an Irish pub which charged a cover, but was much more relaxed and spacious. The Giant Australian paid for my cover as we entered anyway, which pleased me to no end. He and his friend bought me drinks once there as well, although by the end of the evening I'd decided I'd had enough and quit out on the rounds.
We actually ended up dancing to loads of 90's hits I remembered from college, like Chumbawumba's "Tubthumping" and even some Third-Eye Blind. I absolutely felt like I were back in a frat basement at Dartmouth somewhere. It was actually loads of fun (I can't remember the last time I had so much fun just dancing, like I did at frat parties at Dartmouth), although I did find myself feeling a bit insecure about the lack of attention I was receiving from the Giant Australian. I could really sense my inner 5-year old, feeling like a small toddler tugging on her mother's skirt to demand, "Pay attention to me!" I like to think I hid it somewhat well (although already I was paying more attention to him this evening than I ever had before), but I was definitely irritated by the lack of attention I was getting.
I did comment to the Giant Australian at one point about how it was fun to be out with our running friends but to be able to dress up a bit (I'd checked my appearance every time I went back to the loo, and my make-up and hair had stayed looking perfect, no smudged mascara or anything), and he said to me, "I swear, you are just as beautiful when you've just finished a run as you are when you're all done up." So sweet, yet also troubling, that he really doesn't find me any more attractive with my hair and make-up perfectly done than he does after I've been running around and sweating like a pig? Jeez.
Finally at around 3 AM, the Giant Australian, his friend and I left the club, and we went to grab some dinner at McDonald's (I paid for that, at least!) I suppose I can tell that I was quite tipsy at this point because I was getting REALLY annoyed by the lack of attention. Still, we sat and had an amusing late night dinner at the McDonald's while commenting on all of the girls we were seeing in a group of young Essex-types dressed up in caveman costumes, and many of the girls were just walking around barefoot (on the streets of London!) because they'd abandoned their killer heels that were hurting their feet.
I suppose this was kind of 90's night, because I could remember being young like that, wearing stupid heels and short skirts, but something at this point in my life has made me move beyond it. Looking at these girls, I'd like to think that I actually look sexier now, rather than being trashed in a short skirt and bare dirty feet.
We then went to catch a night-bus, and caught one from Picadilly that would get them right to where they needed to go. Although I was tempted to hang out with them, at Knightsbridge the Giant Australian urged me to jump out and catch my own bus, the N9, which was tracking along with us. So when the next stop came, I got a brief kiss (I went for the mouth, I think he was going for the cheek), and I dashed down the bus steps and out onto the street.
Turns out I missed that N9, but another one came along within moments, so I was delivered safely home in no time at all. Yet, still feeling upset and ignored (I got a better kiss from Pork Pie than I did from the Giant Australian!) I made the mistake of glancing at my work e-mail and found a message from some executive that was quite nasty and angry, and even blamed me for something I'd really had no part in. Word to the wise, NEVER check one's work e-mail on the weekends.
Still, despite my upset at the time, I realise now as I recount this tale that the Giant Australian was actually quite good to me throughout the evening. He paid for me for over half the time, and despite having divided attention (obviously he wanted to visit with his childhood friend who was in town), he actually did spend a fair amount of time doting on me. I guess he's just not sycophantic the way I'm used to with so many of the boys from Clubland, and perhaps I need that dose of reality. Plus, it forces me to slow down and acknowledge the things I don't like about him.
When I got home, I texted him to let him know I was home safely, and he texted back that he was glad to hear it, and he'd see me for drinks when he was back in April. April? {Sigh!} So at least no worries about him being a distraction for a while!
Yet, it was still a good game, even if I got my arse handed to me on a platter. We actually had two games, and I didn't even bother keeping score, but my squash partner did so quite accurately so I would know exactly how badly I was losing. We had some good chatter going during the game as well, although I was surprised when I mentioned that I would be seeing the Giant Australian later at the rugby game, he didn't comment on it at all. It's funny, because with boys I'm not interested in, I often enjoy getting their opinion on the guys I like, but I couldn't get any commentary here. I wonder, because he dotes on me so much, it really IS all platonic, right?
After the game I went home, showered, changed, IM'd the Young Dutchman to moan about how the Boyfriend Who Looks Out For Me had insisted on keeping score (the bastard!), and then went out to join the crowds where we would be watching the rugby. Dressed casually but cutely, hoping to strike the right balance of not looking like I'd made an effort, but devastatingly attractive all the same. After all, this was my chance to not look all sweaty and gross after a run when I saw him, right?
Arrived at the venue which was jam-packed, but still managed to find everyone and wedge myself in with the crowd. Wondered if the Giant Australian would show up at all, and so was relieved when I got a text from him asking where the group was. Yet when I looked around to potentially answer, he turned out to be right behind me! I guess there must be a delay on my phone!!
So we got to chatting and he introduced me to his childhood friend who was in town visiting for the weekend from Amsterdam (after he'd had to cancel a trip to Egypt due to all of the political unrest there at the moment). The friend offered to buy the next round of drinks, and the three of us stayed in a round-buying group for the rest of the game.
Admittedly as we started standing there chatting, the thought did occur to me, "Maybe if I drink more, he'll seem less annoying". He's just so loud at times, shouting "Unlucky!" repeatedly during the game and just being slightly obnoxious. In truth, the alcohol did help, but in retrospect perhaps the fact that I felt need of it to like him should have been a clue.
I was surprised when one of the guys in the group, Princess, mentioned that the Giant Australian was recently single. I hadn't even known he was dating anyone. But I guess that sort of explains the prolonged period of silence and then suddenly contacting me out-of-the-blue in January.
England won the game (after our dear Johnny Wilkinson came out onto the field), and then after the game we all decided to walk somewhere to go for dinner. Amazingly, we found a Belgian place that agreed to take an on-the-spot seating for 14 people, on a Saturday night. I never would have dreamed that was possible!
We did have to wait a few minutes for our table to be ready however, so we made our way into the restaurant's bar. I had to make a quick pit stop at the ladies, and so was delighted to discover when I returned that the Giant Australian made a big point about how he'd bought a drink for me. What a gentleman! (Okay, we'll ignore the part where you will note that this is standard practice for any guy I know in Clubland, but it was particularly nice for him, especially when you consider I wasn't even there and he just did it to be thoughtful).
Once our table was ready and we went in for dinner, Matt (my favourite person) insisted that I needed to sit with him. So I did, even though it put me on the very opposite end of the table from the Giant Australian. Perhaps good I suppose, in that it kept me from paying too much attention to him, even though I felt myself behaving like a toddler pulling on her mother's skirts, demanding, "Pay attention to me!"
I did enjoy the conversation at dinner with Matt, Pork Pie, and Lex, although I did find Matt's girlfriend's sister (who was also in the conversation) to be ridiculously naive in her political views. I suppose she is only 20 however, so I should cut her a break. Yet she's a classic example of why people find political discussions from college students to be overly self-righteous and annoying.
Matt did prod me to give online dating a go, and I said he could write my profile for me... I think it really bothers him that I'm one of his favourite girls and I'm single. Although as I like to point out to people, it's not really for lack of options, it's just that I can't find the RIGHT guy, the one that I don't need to drink around to find him tolerable.
Matt's girlfriend joined us (and was laughing telling me about how much her dad had enjoyed seeing me a few weeks ago, how he had a "mini-crush" on me), and then we set about trying to figure out where we would go next. We hustled the whole group out onto the street, where we lost a few people, including Pork Pie (who planted a giant wet kiss on my mouth as he said good-bye to me), but still maintained a significant group presence as we headed on.
We stopped by one bar which was way over-crowded, and then went on to O'Neil's, an Irish pub which charged a cover, but was much more relaxed and spacious. The Giant Australian paid for my cover as we entered anyway, which pleased me to no end. He and his friend bought me drinks once there as well, although by the end of the evening I'd decided I'd had enough and quit out on the rounds.
We actually ended up dancing to loads of 90's hits I remembered from college, like Chumbawumba's "Tubthumping" and even some Third-Eye Blind. I absolutely felt like I were back in a frat basement at Dartmouth somewhere. It was actually loads of fun (I can't remember the last time I had so much fun just dancing, like I did at frat parties at Dartmouth), although I did find myself feeling a bit insecure about the lack of attention I was receiving from the Giant Australian. I could really sense my inner 5-year old, feeling like a small toddler tugging on her mother's skirt to demand, "Pay attention to me!" I like to think I hid it somewhat well (although already I was paying more attention to him this evening than I ever had before), but I was definitely irritated by the lack of attention I was getting.
I did comment to the Giant Australian at one point about how it was fun to be out with our running friends but to be able to dress up a bit (I'd checked my appearance every time I went back to the loo, and my make-up and hair had stayed looking perfect, no smudged mascara or anything), and he said to me, "I swear, you are just as beautiful when you've just finished a run as you are when you're all done up." So sweet, yet also troubling, that he really doesn't find me any more attractive with my hair and make-up perfectly done than he does after I've been running around and sweating like a pig? Jeez.
Finally at around 3 AM, the Giant Australian, his friend and I left the club, and we went to grab some dinner at McDonald's (I paid for that, at least!) I suppose I can tell that I was quite tipsy at this point because I was getting REALLY annoyed by the lack of attention. Still, we sat and had an amusing late night dinner at the McDonald's while commenting on all of the girls we were seeing in a group of young Essex-types dressed up in caveman costumes, and many of the girls were just walking around barefoot (on the streets of London!) because they'd abandoned their killer heels that were hurting their feet.
I suppose this was kind of 90's night, because I could remember being young like that, wearing stupid heels and short skirts, but something at this point in my life has made me move beyond it. Looking at these girls, I'd like to think that I actually look sexier now, rather than being trashed in a short skirt and bare dirty feet.
We then went to catch a night-bus, and caught one from Picadilly that would get them right to where they needed to go. Although I was tempted to hang out with them, at Knightsbridge the Giant Australian urged me to jump out and catch my own bus, the N9, which was tracking along with us. So when the next stop came, I got a brief kiss (I went for the mouth, I think he was going for the cheek), and I dashed down the bus steps and out onto the street.
Turns out I missed that N9, but another one came along within moments, so I was delivered safely home in no time at all. Yet, still feeling upset and ignored (I got a better kiss from Pork Pie than I did from the Giant Australian!) I made the mistake of glancing at my work e-mail and found a message from some executive that was quite nasty and angry, and even blamed me for something I'd really had no part in. Word to the wise, NEVER check one's work e-mail on the weekends.
Still, despite my upset at the time, I realise now as I recount this tale that the Giant Australian was actually quite good to me throughout the evening. He paid for me for over half the time, and despite having divided attention (obviously he wanted to visit with his childhood friend who was in town), he actually did spend a fair amount of time doting on me. I guess he's just not sycophantic the way I'm used to with so many of the boys from Clubland, and perhaps I need that dose of reality. Plus, it forces me to slow down and acknowledge the things I don't like about him.
When I got home, I texted him to let him know I was home safely, and he texted back that he was glad to hear it, and he'd see me for drinks when he was back in April. April? {Sigh!} So at least no worries about him being a distraction for a while!
Friday, 25 February 2011
Return to Cambridge
Today I went up to Cambridge for a reception with my club, to talk to students who might potentially think about joining after they graduate. I left work at 2:30 PM (hope nobody missed me!) and got to the train station, where I got to quickly greet the Wild Welshman, except before he could bring up anything about my ill-considered text on Wednesday, got quickly ensconced in conversation with The Irishman.
(Quick background for you:
The Irishman - Went to my college at Cambridge, super-nice guy, who I actually could see myself dating, except that he shows less than no interest and is always talking to me about other girls he's dating anyway. So I just appreciate that he's super-nice and good fun, and the type I can just text randomly after work asking, "You around for a drink?" without it seeming weird).
The Irishman and Doro and I ended up chatting the whole way up to Cambridge, and it was funny how much I enjoyed reliving college memories with them. There's something about that bond that you have with people who went to your college, that nobody else will ever quite understand.
We then went to the reception, which was mostly circulating and making polite conversation with people. It was like all of your classic networking events, where I just chatted with people for ages and pretty much handed out all of the business cards I had on me. It was funny though at one point, as I looked around I just spotted the hottest guy in the room, and then walked right over to talk to him. Luckily he turned out to be hot AND nice, and I chatted to him for about 15 minutes and then gave him my card (leave them wanting a bit more, right?) Who knows if he'll ever call, but it was just a pleasure to have him smile at me and talk only to me for a bit! (This is what I like to think about some of the guys who chat me up, that maybe it's just enough to have me smile at them...)
After the reception, the Wild Welshman went off to meet his brother, and the Irishman, our friend, and some random American guy we latched onto all went for dinner. I discovered I'm not so great at math after a few glasses of wine, when I kept insisting that if three of us paid £15 each, it only added up to £35.
Finally made it home on the last train back from Cambridge, arriving in London at 1:30 AM after the Tube had shut. Not the best idea, but as is the entire point of this blog, single people like me get to brag about is that we get to sleep in each morning.
Thursday, 24 February 2011
Dull Dartmouth Drinks
After the insanely late night the night before (why on earth did I agree to go to a nightclub on a school night?) I was absolutely dragging throughout the work day, and was very tempted to just skip the "Dartmouth Pub Night" that was happening that evening. Yet I had agreed to meet the other two Dartmouth people to talk about....something, so I dragged my arse out to the designated bar where we were having the event.
When I arrived, I was immediately put off by how it was a loud, thumping bar, where you sort of had to yell to be heard above the noise. While attempting to put my coat away, I got trapped in a deathly dull conversation, and remained stuck there for what seemed like ages, with no opportunity even to go get a drink.
Finally shook loose of that one, talked to my other two organizers, and then got into conversation with some former US Naval Academy grad who had just moved to London. He was decently interesting to talk to, but seemed to be hitting on me a bit, and I just was tired and didn't have the energy to deal with a 5-foot tall guy in his 40's. So refused all offers for him to buy me drinks, and finally made my way home at the ridiculously early hour of 8:30 PM!
When I arrived, I was immediately put off by how it was a loud, thumping bar, where you sort of had to yell to be heard above the noise. While attempting to put my coat away, I got trapped in a deathly dull conversation, and remained stuck there for what seemed like ages, with no opportunity even to go get a drink.
Finally shook loose of that one, talked to my other two organizers, and then got into conversation with some former US Naval Academy grad who had just moved to London. He was decently interesting to talk to, but seemed to be hitting on me a bit, and I just was tired and didn't have the energy to deal with a 5-foot tall guy in his 40's. So refused all offers for him to buy me drinks, and finally made my way home at the ridiculously early hour of 8:30 PM!
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Double-Booked Party Fun
This evening was the first of the "Last Wednesday of the Month" Younger Member's Drinks at the club, and this time I was determined to arrive before 6:30 PM, so I could hopefully beat the crowds there.
I made it in at 6:20 PM, and was just congratulating myself on my timely arrival, when S arrived just shortly afterwards, and insisted on buying me a drink while we were both standing at the bar. What a gentleman!
The two of us sat down at a table to chat, although quite quickly a crowd formed, until before long we were out of chairs and standing. I still thought it was a bit early to abandon the bar, but Doro became quite insistent that we should move the crowds over to the Upper Drawing Room at only 7:15. I thought it was still a bit early to go, so I found myself staying at the bar, chatting with S. Also, my friend Rick had promised to join me this evening at the club, so I wanted to stay in the bar until he arrived, otherwise would be know where to look for me? Finally, I felt compelled to go over and check on the crowd in the Upper Drawing Room, and assured that they were okay, dashed back to the bar in the hopes of spotting my friend Rick. As I arrived back at the bar, I found S coming to greet me with another drink for me. What a sweetheart! We were shortly joined by TK, who is actually one of S's best friends, although I couldn't help but note with a laugh that TK had the most enthusiastic greeting for me, leaving S to be greeted with a mere handshake as the second in line. Poor S, I'm even stealing his friends!
We then made our way back into the Upper Drawing Room, where the Head of Inter-Club was there for a brief drink before heading on to the Caledonian Club, where they were also having drinks this evening. Yet, before heading out, the Head of Inter-Club was keen to show me the new logo for his website, which I had been very drunkenly commenting on the last night we were out together, where I had been madly flirting with his friend who never called me back. It was so cute, as he was so obviously trying to impress me with his new business and how he was an independent businessman. Perhaps I paid attention to the wrong guy that night...
My friend Rick finally arrived, and so I introduced him into the crowds, and just circulated with people, chatting for ages (largely with S, I will admit), and partaking in some ham sandwiches that were ordered. S decided to head in for a more proper dinner with TK and a childhood friend of TK's, so I was mostly left chatting with Rick and S's flatmate Nick. Finally, at around 9:30, I decided I wanted to head over to the drinks being held at the Caledonian Club, and figured I would take Rick and Nick along with me. (Yes, I love grabbing random people and taking them to random parties. It's how I roll). I stopped in the dining room where S and TK were still having dinner that I was going to the Cally Club, and S assured me that they would follow in 15-20 minutes, after they'd had their dessert.
I bundled the boys into a cab, dumped us out at the Caledonian, and quickly whisked everyone into the crowded bar. I introduced Rick as, "Hi! This is my friend who works for Google!" which always gets people talking, and then I was off and running talking to loads of people.
To my surprise, H was there, the boy from that crazy night who never called me back. He had the good grace to look a bit sheepish when I greeted him, but mostly I was just surprised to see what he really looked like. No longer blinded by the heady intoxication of that night, I was suddenly struck by the thought, "What on earth did I see in him?" Seriously, not attractive at all. Foppish hair, big lips, bags under his eyes. Looks like he was the one who did me a favour by not calling! Hence, after I said hello, I just let him be for the rest of the evening.
I circulated with the crowds, and discovered some of the interesting gossip of the evening, like the fact that Fiona Fraser (lovely Scottish girl from the Caledonian) has a huge crush on Tom, a guy from the Army & Navy Club who I've constantly felt I had to fend off. Indeed, their heads were bowed in conversation with each other nearly all evening. I had to laugh, thinking, "Who on earth would have a crush on TOM? That's so weird!!" But it once again reassures me that there's a type for everyone...
At midnight, the Cally was closing but the Old Boyfriend (another part of the crowd) didn't want the evening to end, so I ended up with a girl from my running club, Esk (super-tall Scottish guy), Steve (the American guy I hooked up with a year ago) and the Old Boyfriend. We walked to somewhere that turned out to be closed, and in my intoxicated state, I thought it an excellent idea to text S at this point to tell him I was still out and about and that I missed him. (Dumb move number 1 of the evening). As we walked, I found the pace to be quicker than I could manage in my heels, and Steve instinctively giving me his arm so I could hang onto him for support. Okay, now we're actually okay touching each other again? I'm glad we've reached some state of normalcy, but it's almost weird, how intimately I'm holding onto him, after all that happened before.
We got to chatting as we were walking, and I asked him about the situation with Gordon and Melissa, who seem to spend so much time with each other. (Given that he lives with Gordon, I figured he'd have the inside scoop). Particularly after what went down at the Oriental Dinner, I'm curious. He tells me that Gordon has a huge crush on her, but she's the one holding back. Interesting.
We somehow ended up at the 151, the infamous "Dive", which since it was a Wednesday night we all got in for free, no Sophie needed for free entrace! It's fun dancing as always, with good tunes that we all remembered, including one of my favourites, The Killers' "All These Things That I've Done" (better known in my mind as "I've Got Soul But I'm Not A Soldier"). Dancing to that song in a silly drunken haze makes me happy.
I danced with the Old Boyfriend, where it was so obvious that he wanted me (and he did indeed proposition me at the end of the evening, although I just laughed it off as nothing serious. He would have taken it seriously though if I'd even showed the slightest bit of interest). He's not unattractive, but the money issue gets in the way, I'm not sure how much of me is really attracted to him and how much is just because he's rich. I think this is why I prefer poor men and academics overall, because at least then I know why I like them. (Seriously, there is no other way to explain why so many old men get to date 20-something models. Money DOES screw with how attractive you percieve men to be).
In order to get away from the Old Boyfriend, I got talking to Esk, and we actually had a very funny conversation about how he slept with this girl Olivia (who had been at the party that evening) but now can't get rid of her because Super-Social Scottish Guy keeps inviting her to events. Somehow this morphs into a conversation of how the two of us should sleep together, and all I could think of was, "No, but Doro has a crush on you!" Very awkard to have him crushing on me instead. He then tried to guess who I've slept with in Inter-Club, guessing all of the wrong people but hilariously not realising that the reason I won't answer him is that the one guy I've hooked up with is the guy standing right next to me, Steve, the American guy. It's all just comically hilarious at this point... Yet, as I was laughing at his mis-guided attempts to guess my salacious past, I realised I have been ridiculously well-behaved at Inter-Club. Steve was just about my only mis-step, and even that one didn't relaly go anywhere. How dull.
We finally left there at 3 AM, and I just tumbled into a cab while everybody else was trying to sort themselves out. (Where I then was free to check and respond to messages from S. Definitely super-dumb move of the night. Turns out he had texted me at around midnight in response to my previous message saying he was just leaving the club, and of course I needed to text back at 3 AM. Super-dumb move! Someone really just needs to take my phone away from me after a certain hour...
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
American Tax Seminar
In a sign of what a super-nerd I am, when I heard through my university alumni association about a "UK-US Tax Seminar for Americans" being held at a local tax law firm, I could barely contain my eagerness to sign up. Seriously.
When I arrived, I was one of the first people there, but I got to chatting to another American girl who worked for some law firm. She turned out to be very nice, and we quickly found ourselves in conversation. It was a good way to spend time as we waited for everyone else to arrive, although I was surprised when my friend Sara randomly showed up! I hadn't known she was going to be there!
We chatted for a little bit, then reminded ourselves that we had plans to catch up on Sunday, and so turned our attention to the seminar.
As it turns out, the US government seems to be out to screw us all, and I think everyone got totally freaked out by all of the things they were telling us. Indeed, it made me wish I earned a lot more money than I currently do, because the US government really seems keen to take its pound of flesh from ex-pats. They even brought out wine at the end, but nobody bothered standing up and socializing, as we were all too busy peppering the panelists with more questions.
At the end of the evening, I walked back to the Tube with the girl I'd been chatting to and another American couple (super-nice people), and we suddenly had the inspired idea to go to the Chipotle in Covent Garden for dinner. I hadn't even realised that there WAS a Chipotle in Covent Garden, but once the idea of burritos was planted into my head, I just couldn't shake it. (Later when I posted on FB about my trip to Chipotle, another American-London-ex-pat friend commented, "It tastes like America in there!" Indeed, it was a real taste of home).
Had a great time enjoying a pulled pork burrito and catching up with my new friends, just telling silly stories about ex-pat life and why we loved living in London (despite the terrible tax situation). Fantastic evening with some new friends, a time I hope I get to repeat again before too long! (And yummy burritos too!)
When I arrived, I was one of the first people there, but I got to chatting to another American girl who worked for some law firm. She turned out to be very nice, and we quickly found ourselves in conversation. It was a good way to spend time as we waited for everyone else to arrive, although I was surprised when my friend Sara randomly showed up! I hadn't known she was going to be there!
We chatted for a little bit, then reminded ourselves that we had plans to catch up on Sunday, and so turned our attention to the seminar.
As it turns out, the US government seems to be out to screw us all, and I think everyone got totally freaked out by all of the things they were telling us. Indeed, it made me wish I earned a lot more money than I currently do, because the US government really seems keen to take its pound of flesh from ex-pats. They even brought out wine at the end, but nobody bothered standing up and socializing, as we were all too busy peppering the panelists with more questions.
At the end of the evening, I walked back to the Tube with the girl I'd been chatting to and another American couple (super-nice people), and we suddenly had the inspired idea to go to the Chipotle in Covent Garden for dinner. I hadn't even realised that there WAS a Chipotle in Covent Garden, but once the idea of burritos was planted into my head, I just couldn't shake it. (Later when I posted on FB about my trip to Chipotle, another American-London-ex-pat friend commented, "It tastes like America in there!" Indeed, it was a real taste of home).
Had a great time enjoying a pulled pork burrito and catching up with my new friends, just telling silly stories about ex-pat life and why we loved living in London (despite the terrible tax situation). Fantastic evening with some new friends, a time I hope I get to repeat again before too long! (And yummy burritos too!)
Friday, 18 February 2011
Curry at the Oriental Club
After getting ticked off at work yesterday, I decided not to go to work today. As my father later pointed out to me, that's actually a very childish response to getting upset with people at work, but the fact remains that I totally got away with it. I sometimes think people must be annoyed that I seem to get away with everything...
Did my hair up in a style hopefully reminiscent of "Downton Abbey", and was relatively pleased with how it came out. Dressed up and made my way out to the Oriental Club, arriving just a few minutes after the 7:30 start time.
There was already quite a crowd there when I arrived, and I found myself chatting with Melissa and Gordon right in the doorway, it was such a packed crush that it took me a bit to make it over to where S was. He greeted me with his usual twinkling blue eyes, and I had to admit that it was good to see him, as I haven't spoken to him in ages. I was then pretty quickly dragged away when I was greeted by David, the chap I had met at the Christmas ball who is a good friend of the Young Dutchman. As he is a member of the Oriental Club, he was nominally our host for the evening. I also got a thrilled hug from Sophie when she arrived, and I was just about equally screeching with delight to see her as she was me. I really do adore Sophie, it was so good to see her. I spotted the Young Dutchman across the room, although right at that moment they began making the welcoming speeches, so we couldn't say hello to each other until afterwards.
Upon realising that there would be open seating instead of a seating plan, David quickly led The Young Dutchman and I down a back staircase so we could get to the dining room first to reserve ourselves some seats. Hysterically sneaky!
At dinner veryone was buzzing a bit about the news of our first Inter-Club attempted murder, because the guy in question had been an Oriental Club member. The dinner was actually served buffet style, with open seating, which was a bit unusual but since the whole thing had been £35 (and there was plenty of wine), nobody complained. Had a great time sitting with The Young Dutchman and David, laughing about how when we were chatting on Weds, I couldn't always be sure who I had been talking to. The Young Dutchman just pointed out, "Well, you always know when it's me when the conversation is laced with innuendo". Just made me giggle.
After dinner I noticed that there was an empty seat next to S, so told the Young Dutchman that I was going over to talk to him. The Young Dutchman topped up my drink ("for courage", he said) and off I went. And I had a lovely conversation with S, and at some points he was wonderfully flirtatious (buried his head in my shoulder for a bit), but as I was sitting there, this lightbulb went off in my head: "This is never going to go anywhere, now is it?" Just astonishingly clear realisation that this is going to run around in circles forever. Which remarkably gives me a measure of clarity, and allows me to think it will be nice to see him at drinks on Weds, but now I don't need to bother. I can't even quite say what exactly it was that gave me the sudden moment of insight (perhaps when he broke off conversation with me to talk to Piers, who had come by? That I'd had to come to him in the first place?) but I suddenly could assure you that S is in it for the chase, but not the catching. Sure he likes me, but he likes the banter and the frission, not any real result.
Also, I have to admit that while I kind of like the wild caveman look, his odor is a bit too au-natural. My nose wrinkles, and somehow they say that it's a pheremone thing, when you just like the way people smell.
Hence, when he suggested we retire from the dinner table to go upstairs for drinks, I assured him that I would follow as soon as I got the Young Dutchman to refill my glass, but of course just got stuck in conversation with Sophie and the Young Dutchman and did not follow. Had a good laugh when the Young Dutchman did indeed refill my glass, as we'd been having fun teasing David all evening about how he wasn't attentive enough to me and the state of my wine glass. Upon seeing the Young Dutchman attend to me first, David jumped up with a start to realise he'd been beaten to it once again!!
David did then pull over a chair to sit next to me and talk, being hugely attentive to me as he always is. I can't quite figure it out (maybe he's just really is that nice), but I wonder if on some level he'd like to see me and the Young Dutchman, his two favourite people, get together. After all, I spent some time explaining my relationship with the Young Dutchman to him, as he seemed puzzled about how we talk together every day and get on so well, but have no interest in taking things any further. Okay, I confess, we're perfectly suited, but we want different things. (i.e. The Young Dutchman wants to sleep with lots of people, I want one boy on call). David is wonderfully attentive to me though, and I appreciate how he always cares for me.
I can understand however, how people become suspicious of when "the lady doth protest too much", because one of the more interesting scandals of the evening was when Melissa and Gordon were found snuggled up in a chair together at the end of the evening, kissing. I'd previously interrogated both Melissa and Gordon about how close they seemed, but both had emphatically insisted that they were "just friends". I suppose that's going to be a harder claim to make from now on!!
Scrym kept coming around taking photos, and he did get the usual photo of the two of us together, but that one never showed up on FB, rather curiously. Perhaps it was just that he realised he'd been taking so many photos of me all evening that it was starting to look rather weird. At least I never have to worry about bringing my own camera when Scrym is around, as he loves taking pictures of me!
We finally did make our way upstairs, and I chatted with S for a bit, but quickly moved on. Was having a lot more fun hanging out with Sophie, the Young Dutchman, and David.
As the club was closing down, everyone was wondering where to go next, and Bryan suggested going to this private member's casino that he's a member of. So a few of us set out together. It did not escape my attention as we left however that S had apparently left for the evening without saying good-bye to me.
This club that we ended up at was totally bizarre, as it was sort of like any private member's club you've ever been to, except with beautiful stained-glass windows, fresh-cut flowers in every room, and original Andy Warhol's on the walls. It was open with incredibly attentive staff looking after us until 4 AM, and we ended up on this beautiful balcony later on with some random young guys chomping on cigars. Think of something out of James Bond's "Casino Royale". It was all so surreal, I absolutely felt like I was on a movie set.
As it was cold out, David gave me his jacket (attentive as ever), and we ended up just staying up there talking about random topics and drinking beer out of lead-crystal glasses. I mean, as you do, right? Finally all those of us who lived in West London piled into a cab and headed home, I think it was around 5 AM by the time I was back in my flat.
All in all, a fantastic night, which has me looking forward to the week ahead. Promised David I would make plans on Monday to play squash with him this week, and I've got to sort out a long overdue squash game with Bryan too. (Being the gent that he is, Bryan refused to let me pay for anything from our late-night jaunt, although I promised to make it up to him by giving him a real run-around at squash). Now that I feel like I know the score with Mr T, looking forward to making it a game worth playing when I see him on Weds. And then we'll see what other prospects appear on the horizon...
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Lunch at Google and Work
I was due to meet my friends Rick and Dr Webber for lunch this afternoon at the offices of Google, where all of the food is free and the office is a blast-and-a-half.
Unfortunately, although I usually don't have conference calls until 2 PM (which would give me plenty of time to go to lunch), my boss had asked to move up our conference call that day to 1:15 PM, so I was struggling a bit with how I would manage the call and lunch, but figured I would try my best.
I got to the office and met Rick, and after waiting for a short while Dr Webber joined us. We immediately went in to grab a table, because apparently as Google has been expanding they have run out of space, and so there's no longer enough room in the cafeteria for everyone to sit down to eat. We then got our food, which had seemed so impressive to me the first time I saw the place, but after seeing my company's training center outside of Chicago, I realised that it was all much the same. Although, as in both cases, I realised if I worked there all of the time I would easily gain 30 lbs, there was so much food and it was all so delicious!
Interestingly during our discussion we talked about how annoyed scientists can get when it comes to dinner-table conversation, because while humanities people expect everyone to talk about humanities, if scientists bring up science topics, the humanities people will protest that they can't follow technical science conversations. It was an interesting point that was driven home later that same day, when I found myself on the phone with my new Senior Executive team lead, who turns out not to understand basic maths and excel. It turns out that I might have more in common with those scientists than I first thought...
Rick apparently will be heading back towards your end of the world to do another Asia trip soon, although he said he thinks that he'll only make it to Sydney this time. That boy sure is on the road a lot!
It was too soon time for my call, but Rick found me a random "phone booth" in the office (quite literally a red phone booth like you would find on the streets of London), and I managed to stay tucked up in there and conduct my entire conference call, using the Google guest network and talking on our internal chat client. The call actually went rather well, although I certainly did not mention to my boss that I was conducting company business at another company's offices!
That was in quite a contrast to the call I had with my boss and our team's Senior Executive later that afternoon, which was pretty much a total disaster. I suppose it was unfortunate that my headset wasn't working, and then I never heard the SE trying to interrupt. With only dead silence on the other end, why not keep talking, right? Except then apparently she DID have questions (ridiculously basic ones, I might add), and so I looked like an idiot for not hearing her apparently "shouting" at me. At which point she gave me some very condescending advice about basic presentation skills.
I guess that set the tone for the rest of the conversation, because it just all went downhill from there, and I left the call frustrated and disgusted. Thank goodness it was the end of the work day, as I certainly didn't want to do much more after that. Such a great company in the morning, such a terrible one in the afternoon!
Unfortunately, although I usually don't have conference calls until 2 PM (which would give me plenty of time to go to lunch), my boss had asked to move up our conference call that day to 1:15 PM, so I was struggling a bit with how I would manage the call and lunch, but figured I would try my best.
I got to the office and met Rick, and after waiting for a short while Dr Webber joined us. We immediately went in to grab a table, because apparently as Google has been expanding they have run out of space, and so there's no longer enough room in the cafeteria for everyone to sit down to eat. We then got our food, which had seemed so impressive to me the first time I saw the place, but after seeing my company's training center outside of Chicago, I realised that it was all much the same. Although, as in both cases, I realised if I worked there all of the time I would easily gain 30 lbs, there was so much food and it was all so delicious!
Interestingly during our discussion we talked about how annoyed scientists can get when it comes to dinner-table conversation, because while humanities people expect everyone to talk about humanities, if scientists bring up science topics, the humanities people will protest that they can't follow technical science conversations. It was an interesting point that was driven home later that same day, when I found myself on the phone with my new Senior Executive team lead, who turns out not to understand basic maths and excel. It turns out that I might have more in common with those scientists than I first thought...
Rick apparently will be heading back towards your end of the world to do another Asia trip soon, although he said he thinks that he'll only make it to Sydney this time. That boy sure is on the road a lot!
It was too soon time for my call, but Rick found me a random "phone booth" in the office (quite literally a red phone booth like you would find on the streets of London), and I managed to stay tucked up in there and conduct my entire conference call, using the Google guest network and talking on our internal chat client. The call actually went rather well, although I certainly did not mention to my boss that I was conducting company business at another company's offices!
That was in quite a contrast to the call I had with my boss and our team's Senior Executive later that afternoon, which was pretty much a total disaster. I suppose it was unfortunate that my headset wasn't working, and then I never heard the SE trying to interrupt. With only dead silence on the other end, why not keep talking, right? Except then apparently she DID have questions (ridiculously basic ones, I might add), and so I looked like an idiot for not hearing her apparently "shouting" at me. At which point she gave me some very condescending advice about basic presentation skills.
I guess that set the tone for the rest of the conversation, because it just all went downhill from there, and I left the call frustrated and disgusted. Thank goodness it was the end of the work day, as I certainly didn't want to do much more after that. Such a great company in the morning, such a terrible one in the afternoon!
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
The Painfully Bad Date
At my friend Siobhan's birthday party a few weeks ago, I mentioned meeting a rather awkward and dull chap who didn't interest me much. So it really was a pity on Monday morning when he wrote me on FB saying, "Hi I really enjoyed talking to you on Saturday night. I am sorry I had to leave relatively early. I was wondering whether you would like to meet up again for a drink sometime best wishes".
(Dude, ever heard of punctuation?)
I tried to gently fob him off, but he didn't take the hint and came back with, "I was wondering whether you would like to meet up for drinks/dinner one night next week or next weekend?"
I again delayed and hemmed and hawed, but I was feeling a bit guilty about the whole thing with the Italian Guy on the Tube, and I rather felt that this guy should be rewarded for the good behaviour of actually asking me out. So after pushing it off as much as I could, I finally suggested some date in the distant future, which got me the reply: "Hi thanks for the message. I hope you have a great weekend in Edinburgh. Next Wednesday would be good. I work nearby just off New Fetter Lane but I am happy to embark on the short trek to St Paul's regards". Still absolutely no familiarity with punctuation, it seems...
During the course of the day at work, The Young Dutchman popped up on GChat just to say hello and make me laugh my head off as usual. Looking forward to seeing him on Friday, he makes me smile so much. And he also put me on chat a bit with his friend David who I get on very well with (has a girlfriend though, alas) and that got me laughing too... Wish there were more boys out there who could do that, make me laugh so much!
Yet after too short a time, I had to sign off and go off on my awful date.
I dressed as severe and business-like as I could, with my grey waistcoat and skirt, hair absolutely straight and pulled back in a ponytail (so I couldn't absent-mindedly play with it, a sign of flirting). I stood with my arms across my chest in a defensive posture, instead of the usual inviting posture of a hand on my hip stuck out that I normally do. I still wonder if he would have picked up on all of my hints however, that I was just not interested.
In order to give myself an excuse to get out of there (dinner would have been torture), I scheduled a conference call for later in the evening so I could only stay for drinks. The call was originally scheduled for 9 PM, but in the end I told him it was at 8 PM, because I just couldn't take it. Even then, it was nearly an hour-and-a-half of checking my watch, desperately trying to keep the conversation going and just surviving the awkwardness. I let him buy me a glass of white wine, but only drank that, I think I deserved it for what I went through.
Among his more annoying habits were constant stuttering and stammering, spiting out words in such rapid blatherings of speech that I could hardly figure out what he was saying, and not carrying on a single thread of conversation by himself without me having to either entertain with my own stories or ask a constant stream of questions. The best though was when we somehow got to talking about interviewing, and he mentioned that he was terrible at making eye-contact with people. Which was true, but unfortunately he seemed to want to try to overcome this by periodically just staring at me with giant bug-eyes, before it became too much and he would just go back to staring at the floor. "The King's Speech" might have been an inspiring movie, but living through a live-action version of it for an hour and a half was killing me. Now I can make conversation with a wall if I have to, but I was suffering so badly I eventually claimed a conference call at 8 PM (it wasn't really until 9 PM) just to get out of there. I seriously think that I deserve some sort of gold star or medal for surviving that, it was such agony to live through.
Luckily no hugely awkward scenes as we parted (I was worried that he might not have picked up on what a disaster the whole thing was, but he barely tried for a peck on the cheek, thank goodness), and then I was gone.
Made my way back home, and then called my old gay Scottish co-worker on the phone, and had a brilliant time chatting to him for the next hour. The Scottish co-worker warned me that if I didn't get my romantic life sorted out soon, he was going to have to come back down to London and do it for me, which I think is a half-serious threat!
Yet I thought to myself, "That all went so badly, I'm sure at least he'll have to acknowledge how spectacularly horrible that was and not ask me out again." So imagine my dismay to receive a message the very next day saying, "It was great to see you last night. I hope your conference call didn't last too long. It was great to meet up again in future, perhaps to go to the theatre or some such larks". Seriously? You weren't absolutely dying in agony like I was the entire time? Yet it's now apparent that the chap unfortunately has no social acuity, and so since that message didn't specifically require a response, you can rest assured he's not getting one!
(Dude, ever heard of punctuation?)
I tried to gently fob him off, but he didn't take the hint and came back with, "I was wondering whether you would like to meet up for drinks/dinner one night next week or next weekend?"
I again delayed and hemmed and hawed, but I was feeling a bit guilty about the whole thing with the Italian Guy on the Tube, and I rather felt that this guy should be rewarded for the good behaviour of actually asking me out. So after pushing it off as much as I could, I finally suggested some date in the distant future, which got me the reply: "Hi thanks for the message. I hope you have a great weekend in Edinburgh. Next Wednesday would be good. I work nearby just off New Fetter Lane but I am happy to embark on the short trek to St Paul's regards". Still absolutely no familiarity with punctuation, it seems...
During the course of the day at work, The Young Dutchman popped up on GChat just to say hello and make me laugh my head off as usual. Looking forward to seeing him on Friday, he makes me smile so much. And he also put me on chat a bit with his friend David who I get on very well with (has a girlfriend though, alas) and that got me laughing too... Wish there were more boys out there who could do that, make me laugh so much!
Yet after too short a time, I had to sign off and go off on my awful date.
I dressed as severe and business-like as I could, with my grey waistcoat and skirt, hair absolutely straight and pulled back in a ponytail (so I couldn't absent-mindedly play with it, a sign of flirting). I stood with my arms across my chest in a defensive posture, instead of the usual inviting posture of a hand on my hip stuck out that I normally do. I still wonder if he would have picked up on all of my hints however, that I was just not interested.
In order to give myself an excuse to get out of there (dinner would have been torture), I scheduled a conference call for later in the evening so I could only stay for drinks. The call was originally scheduled for 9 PM, but in the end I told him it was at 8 PM, because I just couldn't take it. Even then, it was nearly an hour-and-a-half of checking my watch, desperately trying to keep the conversation going and just surviving the awkwardness. I let him buy me a glass of white wine, but only drank that, I think I deserved it for what I went through.
Among his more annoying habits were constant stuttering and stammering, spiting out words in such rapid blatherings of speech that I could hardly figure out what he was saying, and not carrying on a single thread of conversation by himself without me having to either entertain with my own stories or ask a constant stream of questions. The best though was when we somehow got to talking about interviewing, and he mentioned that he was terrible at making eye-contact with people. Which was true, but unfortunately he seemed to want to try to overcome this by periodically just staring at me with giant bug-eyes, before it became too much and he would just go back to staring at the floor. "The King's Speech" might have been an inspiring movie, but living through a live-action version of it for an hour and a half was killing me. Now I can make conversation with a wall if I have to, but I was suffering so badly I eventually claimed a conference call at 8 PM (it wasn't really until 9 PM) just to get out of there. I seriously think that I deserve some sort of gold star or medal for surviving that, it was such agony to live through.
Luckily no hugely awkward scenes as we parted (I was worried that he might not have picked up on what a disaster the whole thing was, but he barely tried for a peck on the cheek, thank goodness), and then I was gone.
Made my way back home, and then called my old gay Scottish co-worker on the phone, and had a brilliant time chatting to him for the next hour. The Scottish co-worker warned me that if I didn't get my romantic life sorted out soon, he was going to have to come back down to London and do it for me, which I think is a half-serious threat!
Yet I thought to myself, "That all went so badly, I'm sure at least he'll have to acknowledge how spectacularly horrible that was and not ask me out again." So imagine my dismay to receive a message the very next day saying, "It was great to see you last night. I hope your conference call didn't last too long. It was great to meet up again in future, perhaps to go to the theatre or some such larks". Seriously? You weren't absolutely dying in agony like I was the entire time? Yet it's now apparent that the chap unfortunately has no social acuity, and so since that message didn't specifically require a response, you can rest assured he's not getting one!
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Magdalene in the City
This evening was a Magdalene in the City event, which are always among my favourite events of the year, every single one has been a good time, bar none. This one did not dissapoint, as it was an absolute blast, as usual, and as usual I needed a bit of water and paracetemol the next morning. No idea why those events are always so messy, but yet they are! Although I felt like such an idiot, as when dashing out of the house, I just grabbed my Balliol scarf instead of my Magdalene one (I wear both of them pretty evenly all winter), but talk about the wrong event to be wearing a Balliol scarf at!!
Got to see Tristan there (he's still alive!), Matt Bullivant, Grant Saggers, and quite a few other familiar faces. Also got to see two guys who I always see at Magdalene in the City events, and our whole friendship is pretty much based around those events. It's hilarious.
A few years ago at a Magdalene in the City event, the friend I was chatting to said, "There are two men standing behind you who have been hanging out there for quite a while in the hopes you will turn around, I think they desperately want to meet you." So I did turn around, said hello, and when I turned back for my friend, discovered he had dissappeared! But it all turned out well, as I had a crazy evening filled with lots of champagne, late night drinks, and a cab home at 3 AM.
Then, at every MiC event since, I've always ended up going to dinner with these two, going for extra drinks, or just somehow having some sort of madcap adventure. And the interesting thing is that they're both about 5 years older (went up to Magdalene in 1993) and married. I'm better friends with one (a banker at Goldman Sachs) than the other (works at Deloitte), but they always come as a pair so I hang out with them both.
On the whole, it's kind of strange, because they're both married (the GS guy with two kids now, the Deloitte guy has one on the way in April), and yet always seem to enjoy going drinking with a young single girl like me. Nothing majorly inappropriate has ever happened, but there's always an interesting vibe there. I sometimes really wonder what's going on in their heads, but I have to admit it's flattering that they will always stay late and go to such lengths to spend time in my company.
So as usual, we stayed until the event ended, then went to the pub downstairs for drinks with Tristan and a few others. I tried my best to chat with Tristan for a while, and a chap Marcus who I knew from Magdalene and had run into recently at a club event. Yet too quickly I was bored with him and so turned over to GS guy to discuss the sorry state of my dating life. I guess it's just that I know time with the GS guy is precious, as we only ever see each other at these events. Hence I'm not inclined to waste the chance to talk to him, it's always such a treat.
As it grew late, we were getting hungry, and went looking for somewhere to eat. However in the City nothing was open at 10:30, which made Tristan and a few others give up, but myself, my two married friends, and Matt Bullivant all hopped in a cab to Soho, and found a Bella Italia that was just about closing. Seeing that it was a guy staffing the tables, I went in first and gave him my best smile and batted my eyelashes, and got us all seated. The guys were then all laughing about how far a smile must get me in life!!
Seriously, back to the "as a pretty girl you never pay for anything" issue, I tried to pay for the cab but then GS guy contributed most of the money so I ended up paying about £2, and I think I came out ahead on my meal as well. And it didn't escape my notice that a married guy was staying out until the last train home to hang out with me. Jeez, have I always had this much power over men? Why didn't anyone ever tell me about it?
Finally I made it home at around 1 AM, making it one of our usual adventures! No idea why these guys like me so much, but yet they do...
Got to see Tristan there (he's still alive!), Matt Bullivant, Grant Saggers, and quite a few other familiar faces. Also got to see two guys who I always see at Magdalene in the City events, and our whole friendship is pretty much based around those events. It's hilarious.
A few years ago at a Magdalene in the City event, the friend I was chatting to said, "There are two men standing behind you who have been hanging out there for quite a while in the hopes you will turn around, I think they desperately want to meet you." So I did turn around, said hello, and when I turned back for my friend, discovered he had dissappeared! But it all turned out well, as I had a crazy evening filled with lots of champagne, late night drinks, and a cab home at 3 AM.
Then, at every MiC event since, I've always ended up going to dinner with these two, going for extra drinks, or just somehow having some sort of madcap adventure. And the interesting thing is that they're both about 5 years older (went up to Magdalene in 1993) and married. I'm better friends with one (a banker at Goldman Sachs) than the other (works at Deloitte), but they always come as a pair so I hang out with them both.
On the whole, it's kind of strange, because they're both married (the GS guy with two kids now, the Deloitte guy has one on the way in April), and yet always seem to enjoy going drinking with a young single girl like me. Nothing majorly inappropriate has ever happened, but there's always an interesting vibe there. I sometimes really wonder what's going on in their heads, but I have to admit it's flattering that they will always stay late and go to such lengths to spend time in my company.
So as usual, we stayed until the event ended, then went to the pub downstairs for drinks with Tristan and a few others. I tried my best to chat with Tristan for a while, and a chap Marcus who I knew from Magdalene and had run into recently at a club event. Yet too quickly I was bored with him and so turned over to GS guy to discuss the sorry state of my dating life. I guess it's just that I know time with the GS guy is precious, as we only ever see each other at these events. Hence I'm not inclined to waste the chance to talk to him, it's always such a treat.
As it grew late, we were getting hungry, and went looking for somewhere to eat. However in the City nothing was open at 10:30, which made Tristan and a few others give up, but myself, my two married friends, and Matt Bullivant all hopped in a cab to Soho, and found a Bella Italia that was just about closing. Seeing that it was a guy staffing the tables, I went in first and gave him my best smile and batted my eyelashes, and got us all seated. The guys were then all laughing about how far a smile must get me in life!!
Seriously, back to the "as a pretty girl you never pay for anything" issue, I tried to pay for the cab but then GS guy contributed most of the money so I ended up paying about £2, and I think I came out ahead on my meal as well. And it didn't escape my notice that a married guy was staying out until the last train home to hang out with me. Jeez, have I always had this much power over men? Why didn't anyone ever tell me about it?
Finally I made it home at around 1 AM, making it one of our usual adventures! No idea why these guys like me so much, but yet they do...
Monday, 14 February 2011
Happy Valentine's Day
As I had mentioned a few weeks ago, out of the blue I heard from Dr. T, who I had not heard a peep from since the embarassing disaster last July. Six months without a word, and suddenly he got in touch to suggest drinks.
Surprised but nonetheless grateful to be back in touch, I replied that drinks were a great idea, and left it to him to suggest a date. "How about the 14th?" he wrote. Ummm....the 14th of February? Was he really just a guy and truly that clueless? Sure, that won't be awkward at all, to be going out on Valentine's Day for the first time we've seen each other in six months, given how we left things...
Yet, as the date approached, I heard absolutely nothing from Dr. T. Had he suddenly realised the significance of the date and freaked out? I wrote him an e-mail, suggesting we meet at a pub near where he lived that I like, but no response. So convinced was I that nothing was going to be happening, that while stuck on the train journey home from Scotland, I agreed to go to an "Anti-Valentine's Day Party" in Parson's Green.
Hence I was surprised on Sunday night to get a brief message, "Shall we say 8 PM?" Ummm...okay, but you still haven't confirmed the location! Oh well, I figured I might as well just show up to the pub I suggested, yet while bringing a book just in case.
I arrived just at 8 PM, and was relieved to find that the pub was just as lovely as I remembered it. Cozy, warm and quiet, with soft music playing, big couches, and candles flickering everywhere. There was actually a great little couch in a dark corner that I thought about going for, but then remembered this wasn't supposed to be a Valentine-like date. After all of the disaster of before, I really wanted to convince him that we were back on the friendship track. Hence I'd worn jeans, a non-low-cut top, and had done by best to look nice but thoroughly casual. So I picked a spot with high stools and a small table in a dimly-lit corner, figuring that struck the right balance of cozy (small table) with friendly (not sitting side-by-side on a couch). He arrived just a few moments after I had settled in, and we pretty quickly settled into companionable conversation.
He talked about his job and how he is in charge of planning a co-ed bachelor party for his friend Sam's wedding (I know Sam, an American guy who is now at Harvard). I gave him as many ideas as I could, and we talked a bit about the neighbourhood of Islington and how he enjoys living there. He's always been a type who wants to be a bit more "in the heart of the action" than I have been, a super-socialist, bleeding-heart-liberal Dane. I mean, I think I'm a pretty bleeding-heart-liberal, but this guy makes me look positively conservative!
We chatted about my new job and how bored I had been at my old one (I get the impression his new job makes him work a lot), and how my new flat was fine enough but I was really done with living with randoms, and was looking forward to moving out when my lease was up. So you can imagine my surprise when he exclaimed, "You could move in with me!!" Ummm...I know we're trying to pretend that all of the awkwardness in the past never happened and that we're all good, but you don't think THAT would be awkward??
Somehow, also in the course of conversation we somehow got onto the topic of budgets and the cost of living in London, and somehow it occurred to me to mention out loud, "I often don't seem to pay for anything when I go out." Seriously, there have been so many evenings where I end up not spending a dime, or at least very little, as boys buy me drinks, pay for the cab, and just generally pave my way. And I wonder how much of an impact that makes on my budget as a whole. So many nights I should spend £30 while he spends £30, but instead it becomes I spend £0 and he spends £60. It's really kind of strange, but it was like right then, I had this sudden realisation of how being a pretty girl really helps me financially. How funny that I'd never noticed that before...
I just tried to keep the conversation light, but subtly slip in just generalized talk about romantic life in London, the classic, "If you talk about other boys, he'll know you're not interested in him" trick. The disaster of what happened before has me totally panicked, so as not to lose him again I want to make sure he's clear that I see us as being back on the "friends track". (Although he didn't exactly pick up in kind, which reminds me that he was an equal participant in the disaster. He may not want to date me, but he's still attracted to me on some level). He bought me drinks and olives and we just chatted for ages, but he refused my offer to buy him a drink, and instead ended the evening at around 10:30. Okay, it's a Monday night, I suppose I can live with that. But hugged me warmly as we parted and said, "It's been too long! We need to meet up again soon!!" So thank goodness, I think we're back to normal. Couldn't have asked for a sweeter Valentine's Day present than that.
Got home and then texted my last Valentine's wishes to the Young Dutchman, who cheerfully replied in kind, and we engaged in a bit of back-and-forth banter until bedtime. How I wish things with real boys could be as simple as they are with the Young Dutchman!! (Alas, the Young Dutchman is something close to the gay-best-friend. He might not actually be gay, but otherwise it's just the same. Must remember not to compare real boys to the Young Dutchman however, as it's an unfair comparison). Still, a wonderfully sweet Valentine's Day, with much love from the boys out there who are so dear to me.
Surprised but nonetheless grateful to be back in touch, I replied that drinks were a great idea, and left it to him to suggest a date. "How about the 14th?" he wrote. Ummm....the 14th of February? Was he really just a guy and truly that clueless? Sure, that won't be awkward at all, to be going out on Valentine's Day for the first time we've seen each other in six months, given how we left things...
Yet, as the date approached, I heard absolutely nothing from Dr. T. Had he suddenly realised the significance of the date and freaked out? I wrote him an e-mail, suggesting we meet at a pub near where he lived that I like, but no response. So convinced was I that nothing was going to be happening, that while stuck on the train journey home from Scotland, I agreed to go to an "Anti-Valentine's Day Party" in Parson's Green.
Hence I was surprised on Sunday night to get a brief message, "Shall we say 8 PM?" Ummm...okay, but you still haven't confirmed the location! Oh well, I figured I might as well just show up to the pub I suggested, yet while bringing a book just in case.
I arrived just at 8 PM, and was relieved to find that the pub was just as lovely as I remembered it. Cozy, warm and quiet, with soft music playing, big couches, and candles flickering everywhere. There was actually a great little couch in a dark corner that I thought about going for, but then remembered this wasn't supposed to be a Valentine-like date. After all of the disaster of before, I really wanted to convince him that we were back on the friendship track. Hence I'd worn jeans, a non-low-cut top, and had done by best to look nice but thoroughly casual. So I picked a spot with high stools and a small table in a dimly-lit corner, figuring that struck the right balance of cozy (small table) with friendly (not sitting side-by-side on a couch). He arrived just a few moments after I had settled in, and we pretty quickly settled into companionable conversation.
He talked about his job and how he is in charge of planning a co-ed bachelor party for his friend Sam's wedding (I know Sam, an American guy who is now at Harvard). I gave him as many ideas as I could, and we talked a bit about the neighbourhood of Islington and how he enjoys living there. He's always been a type who wants to be a bit more "in the heart of the action" than I have been, a super-socialist, bleeding-heart-liberal Dane. I mean, I think I'm a pretty bleeding-heart-liberal, but this guy makes me look positively conservative!
We chatted about my new job and how bored I had been at my old one (I get the impression his new job makes him work a lot), and how my new flat was fine enough but I was really done with living with randoms, and was looking forward to moving out when my lease was up. So you can imagine my surprise when he exclaimed, "You could move in with me!!" Ummm...I know we're trying to pretend that all of the awkwardness in the past never happened and that we're all good, but you don't think THAT would be awkward??
Somehow, also in the course of conversation we somehow got onto the topic of budgets and the cost of living in London, and somehow it occurred to me to mention out loud, "I often don't seem to pay for anything when I go out." Seriously, there have been so many evenings where I end up not spending a dime, or at least very little, as boys buy me drinks, pay for the cab, and just generally pave my way. And I wonder how much of an impact that makes on my budget as a whole. So many nights I should spend £30 while he spends £30, but instead it becomes I spend £0 and he spends £60. It's really kind of strange, but it was like right then, I had this sudden realisation of how being a pretty girl really helps me financially. How funny that I'd never noticed that before...
I just tried to keep the conversation light, but subtly slip in just generalized talk about romantic life in London, the classic, "If you talk about other boys, he'll know you're not interested in him" trick. The disaster of what happened before has me totally panicked, so as not to lose him again I want to make sure he's clear that I see us as being back on the "friends track". (Although he didn't exactly pick up in kind, which reminds me that he was an equal participant in the disaster. He may not want to date me, but he's still attracted to me on some level). He bought me drinks and olives and we just chatted for ages, but he refused my offer to buy him a drink, and instead ended the evening at around 10:30. Okay, it's a Monday night, I suppose I can live with that. But hugged me warmly as we parted and said, "It's been too long! We need to meet up again soon!!" So thank goodness, I think we're back to normal. Couldn't have asked for a sweeter Valentine's Day present than that.
Got home and then texted my last Valentine's wishes to the Young Dutchman, who cheerfully replied in kind, and we engaged in a bit of back-and-forth banter until bedtime. How I wish things with real boys could be as simple as they are with the Young Dutchman!! (Alas, the Young Dutchman is something close to the gay-best-friend. He might not actually be gay, but otherwise it's just the same. Must remember not to compare real boys to the Young Dutchman however, as it's an unfair comparison). Still, a wonderfully sweet Valentine's Day, with much love from the boys out there who are so dear to me.
Sunday, 13 February 2011
Long Journey Home
Jess had to leave on an 8 AM flight, and so needed to be up at 5:30 AM to catch a cab at 6 AM to the airport. I got up to say good-bye and send her off, but was quite grateful when she left me with the key and told me to go back to bed and check myself out later!
Although it was somewhat hard to get back to sleep, I managed it for a little bit, and then got up, showered, and made my way out to the bus stop to catch a bus out to Margaret and Nigel's place, as I was going to meet them for breakfast. I'd forgotten that buses in Edinburgh only take exact change, but luckily by adding up all of my lose change, I turned out to have bus fare exactly!
I got to Margaret and Nigel's place, and we then walked out to one of their favourite brunch places, where I had a lovely fry-up (with more haggis, of course!!) Had a good time talking to them and about their lives now that they were married, and it's so sweet to see such a lovely couple that I like doing so well together. Even more lovely was at the end of breakfast Nigel said to me, "Let us buy you breakfast, please say yes!" which was so sweet of them, although totally ruined my plan to get some spare change by paying for my share of breakfast!
I then went back to Margaret and Nigel's place where Margaret had to change and run off to go horseback riding, and I just hung out chatting to Nigel for a bit. Really great guy, I think Margaret is a very lucky girl (as he's a lucky guy!)
Then I went to walk downtown (I needed to come up with spare change somehow for the bus), and by totally random chance saw Arleen, a girl I know from Clubland, through the window of a restaurant as I walked by! I popped in to say hello, as we just kept exclaiming how random it all was. A run-in like that would have been unusual enough in London, but in Ediburgh it was nothing short of extraordinary. I mean, if I'd had bus fare instead of walking, if I'd been on the other side of the street...the number of coincidences there were off the charts.
But I can't help but wonder if it were somehow fate, because Arleen is a real social organizer in Clubland, yet we've never really properly been introduced to become friends to become FB friends for me to get all of the invites. So now with finally such an extraordinary connection, I sent her a FB message, we became friends, and she invited me to her birthday party next month, which I'm sure will be an event with lots of familiar faces. Looking forward to it already!
At last though, it was time for me to catch my train, so at 4 PM in Waverly station, I got on the train, found my seat, and settled in to read my book for the long journey home. Which turned into a REALLY long journey, as instead of being 5.5 hours, the train was delayed for nearly 2 hours en route, hence it was almost midnight before we finally pulled into King's Cross! Apparently we'll get partial refunds of our tickets, but it was quite annoying!!
Still, the Tube was still running, so made it back to my flat without any problems, having thoroughly enjoyed my little weekend away!
Long train home
Although it was somewhat hard to get back to sleep, I managed it for a little bit, and then got up, showered, and made my way out to the bus stop to catch a bus out to Margaret and Nigel's place, as I was going to meet them for breakfast. I'd forgotten that buses in Edinburgh only take exact change, but luckily by adding up all of my lose change, I turned out to have bus fare exactly!
I got to Margaret and Nigel's place, and we then walked out to one of their favourite brunch places, where I had a lovely fry-up (with more haggis, of course!!) Had a good time talking to them and about their lives now that they were married, and it's so sweet to see such a lovely couple that I like doing so well together. Even more lovely was at the end of breakfast Nigel said to me, "Let us buy you breakfast, please say yes!" which was so sweet of them, although totally ruined my plan to get some spare change by paying for my share of breakfast!
I then went back to Margaret and Nigel's place where Margaret had to change and run off to go horseback riding, and I just hung out chatting to Nigel for a bit. Really great guy, I think Margaret is a very lucky girl (as he's a lucky guy!)
Then I went to walk downtown (I needed to come up with spare change somehow for the bus), and by totally random chance saw Arleen, a girl I know from Clubland, through the window of a restaurant as I walked by! I popped in to say hello, as we just kept exclaiming how random it all was. A run-in like that would have been unusual enough in London, but in Ediburgh it was nothing short of extraordinary. I mean, if I'd had bus fare instead of walking, if I'd been on the other side of the street...the number of coincidences there were off the charts.
But I can't help but wonder if it were somehow fate, because Arleen is a real social organizer in Clubland, yet we've never really properly been introduced to become friends to become FB friends for me to get all of the invites. So now with finally such an extraordinary connection, I sent her a FB message, we became friends, and she invited me to her birthday party next month, which I'm sure will be an event with lots of familiar faces. Looking forward to it already!
At last though, it was time for me to catch my train, so at 4 PM in Waverly station, I got on the train, found my seat, and settled in to read my book for the long journey home. Which turned into a REALLY long journey, as instead of being 5.5 hours, the train was delayed for nearly 2 hours en route, hence it was almost midnight before we finally pulled into King's Cross! Apparently we'll get partial refunds of our tickets, but it was quite annoying!!
Still, the Tube was still running, so made it back to my flat without any problems, having thoroughly enjoyed my little weekend away!
Long train home
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Edinburgh with Jess
In the morning, Jess and I got up and walked up to Edinburgh Castle, where we only moderately looked in at the castle, but just mostly had fun people-watching. You see, this weekend in Edinburgh, the Six-Nations rugby tournament was going on, and Scotland was playing Wales. For some reason that meant that there were Welsh people everywhere in silly outfits, and I kept having to explain to Jess why people were wearing red, dragons, daffodils and leeks. Ah, those crazy Welsh!
We then strolled our way down the Royal Mile, and since we hadn't had breakfast, stopped in for lunch at a really great Scottish place that I remembered going to with the hash when we had been up here for the marathon. It was just as nice as I remembered, and so he had hot toddies along with real Scottish meals with plenty of haggis. I convinced Jess to try some, but she was definitely not as much of a fan of haggis as I was!
We walked all of the way down to Hollyrood House, and after I told Jess how picturesque the ruined abbey was, we decided to pay to take a tour. She really seemed to enjoy it, and I have to admit that she took some amazing photos of the abbey. Funny enough, I was able to figure out how to take the same stunning photos with my little point-and-shoot camera, but I really needed Jess's eye to point out where the good shot would be.
Then in the evening, we were due to meet up with our friends Margaret and Nigel for dinner. I actually met Margaret through Jess, as they used to be co-workers, and Nigel is Margaret's husband. I'm now definitely better friends with them than Jess is, but they are such lovely people that I was sure Jess would still enjoy an evening out with them.
We got to the pub to find the Scotland vs Wales game still being played (Scotland was getting slaughtered) and I did my best to try and explain the rules of rugby to Jess while also introducing her to British beer. (Warm, flat, bitter beer, which I've become really fond of, and thankfully Jess seemed to enjoy it too, about one of the only things about English cuisine that she liked!)
We had some haggis fritters (I thought they were delicious, but Jess gave me her leftovers), and an absolutely lovely dinner, until finally very late Jess and I walked home, full but satisfied we'd had an excellent day in Edinburgh!
Friday, 11 February 2011
Off to Scotland
My old college roommate Jess caught me online a little over a week ago to tell me, "I'm going to be in Scotland!" Given that Scotland is a lot closer to me than Seattle, I was only too happy to take a train up to see her for the weekend.
I packed on Friday morning (of course I had not managed to pack in advance), and then caught the train from King's Cross at 2 PM. Yes, very cheeky to leave in the middle of the work day, but using the on-board Wi-Fi, it was easy to work to finish the presentation I had to do. I was actually a bit surprised at how hard it was to work whilst travelling backwards, but luckily I got everything done in time before we pulled into the Edinburgh Waverly station at 6:30 PM.
Of course work was not my only entertainment on the journey, as the Young Dutchman called, as I teased him for using the ancient technology of the telephone, he said, "I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice!" Awwww, how sweet. He told me good news about all of the jobs he's been offered after going to a bunch of media networking events this past week, and how he managed to pull a bit of reverse psychology on a girl and get her to ask him out. As usual, he had me giggling for our entire conversation.
Once I arrived in Edinburgh, I was grateful for my iPhone, as I was able to use it to figure out where I was and plot myself on a map to make it to the hotel. Once there, I used Skype to call Jess, and she came down to meet me. We then were joined by the colleague that she's travelling with, and we went out in search of a pub that a friend of mine who lives in Edinburgh suggested. When we got there, it turned out to be way too loud, so we wandered on and found another place that was much quieter, where we had a really nice dinner. We also had a great time using my iPhone to take pictures of our mini-reunion!
Then that place got loud as well (the music turned up and a surprise birthday party arrived), so Jess and I decided to go back to hotel with a bottle of wine and chatted for a while, then called our friend Shelley back in the US. Had a good hour-long conversation with her, before finally at 1 AM we tucked ourselves in and went to sleep!
Thursday, 10 February 2011
The Good News of Others
I had a quiet Wednesday and Thursday after my drinks plans for Weds got cancelled and I never managed to sort out plans for Thurs. Yet they were still marked by some good news from people I know.
First of all my cousin's ex-girlfriend (yes, funny that I'm still friends with my cousin's ex-girlfriend, but I think that while she and my cousin were never quite a great couple, she was just fabulous!) wrote to let me know that she'd bought a house with her new boyfriend!! This guy that she's been dating is always a lesson to me to consider the wisdom of my hairdresser, that you should pay attention to how much a boy likes you as much as you like him. Because after years of being "just friends" with this guy, she caved in and started dating him, and has just been blissfully happy ever since, as he dotes on her so much. And now they've bought a house together, and from the pictures she sent me, it looks fabulous!
Then I got a second dose of great news, when my friend Caro in Argentina wrote to tell me she'd gotten engaged! I'd met her boyfriend when I went to stay with her family in Argentina about two years ago, and I had to admit that he was a wonderfully charming and nice guy. Apparently it was a super-romantic proposal, as he went and grabbed her at work on Friday, whisked her away to a hacienda for the weekend where they went horseback riding and swimming in the ocean, and then as they were dressing for dinner, he had her come out to the balcony at sunset where dinner was actually already arranged. Then turned out he got down on one knee and proposed, and of course she said yes! Darn those Argentine men, I mean can you imagine anything more romantic?
And then finally the best news came when the Young Dutchman told me that he'd gotten an interview at Oxford. Now I'm just absolute assured that he will get in, because he can talk anybody into anything. I will keep my fingers crossed for him, but I was absolutely thrilled!
First of all my cousin's ex-girlfriend (yes, funny that I'm still friends with my cousin's ex-girlfriend, but I think that while she and my cousin were never quite a great couple, she was just fabulous!) wrote to let me know that she'd bought a house with her new boyfriend!! This guy that she's been dating is always a lesson to me to consider the wisdom of my hairdresser, that you should pay attention to how much a boy likes you as much as you like him. Because after years of being "just friends" with this guy, she caved in and started dating him, and has just been blissfully happy ever since, as he dotes on her so much. And now they've bought a house together, and from the pictures she sent me, it looks fabulous!
Then I got a second dose of great news, when my friend Caro in Argentina wrote to tell me she'd gotten engaged! I'd met her boyfriend when I went to stay with her family in Argentina about two years ago, and I had to admit that he was a wonderfully charming and nice guy. Apparently it was a super-romantic proposal, as he went and grabbed her at work on Friday, whisked her away to a hacienda for the weekend where they went horseback riding and swimming in the ocean, and then as they were dressing for dinner, he had her come out to the balcony at sunset where dinner was actually already arranged. Then turned out he got down on one knee and proposed, and of course she said yes! Darn those Argentine men, I mean can you imagine anything more romantic?
And then finally the best news came when the Young Dutchman told me that he'd gotten an interview at Oxford. Now I'm just absolute assured that he will get in, because he can talk anybody into anything. I will keep my fingers crossed for him, but I was absolutely thrilled!
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
Dodgy East London Run
After weeks of being off running, I finally figured it was time I made it back to the hash. They were running from Liverpool Street this week, and as soon as I arrived at the pub I remembered it as one I'd never liked, as for some reason nobody I really wanted to see showed up to runs out of that particular pub.
Indeed, that maxim proved to be true, as I didn't run into too many folks that I even felt like chatting with, much less those I desperately wanted to see. Still, it was good to be there for the run, right?
We set off, and alarmingly quickly it became apparent that this was a run through the less salubrious areas of London, as we frequently had people yelling at us from their windows in housing estates or gangs of hooded youngsters jeering at us as we ran by. I kept up reasonably well for the first 30-40 min of the run, as I was terrified to fall behind down some of these dark alleyways, but eventually I'd just had enough and upon falling behind the group once again, gave up and simply hopped on a bus back to the pub.
Arrived back well before everyone else, struggled to make conversation with the people there for a bit, and at least had a fine time chatting to one of the girls I like (sweet girl married to a funny outgoing guy) and discovered the exciting news that she is pregnant. Definitely some happy news for the evening!
Yet before they could even begin the songs and stories of the evening, I'd had enough and decided to head home. A half-hearted run and not a keen crowd, I was ready to leave!!
Indeed, that maxim proved to be true, as I didn't run into too many folks that I even felt like chatting with, much less those I desperately wanted to see. Still, it was good to be there for the run, right?
We set off, and alarmingly quickly it became apparent that this was a run through the less salubrious areas of London, as we frequently had people yelling at us from their windows in housing estates or gangs of hooded youngsters jeering at us as we ran by. I kept up reasonably well for the first 30-40 min of the run, as I was terrified to fall behind down some of these dark alleyways, but eventually I'd just had enough and upon falling behind the group once again, gave up and simply hopped on a bus back to the pub.
Arrived back well before everyone else, struggled to make conversation with the people there for a bit, and at least had a fine time chatting to one of the girls I like (sweet girl married to a funny outgoing guy) and discovered the exciting news that she is pregnant. Definitely some happy news for the evening!
Yet before they could even begin the songs and stories of the evening, I'd had enough and decided to head home. A half-hearted run and not a keen crowd, I was ready to leave!!
Monday, 7 February 2011
Killer Squash with Doro
I missed Body Pump at the gym this morning (I really need to learn to get up earlier), but I figured that was okay because I was playing squash with Doro in the evening. We had an early court time (6:15), but at least it motivated me to get out of work on time.
I'd been complaining to Doro about how fat I felt in my skirt on Saturday, so she agreed to play a pretty intense game. I was wearing my heart-rate monitor, and got some pretty impressive stats out of it (squash is an intense game!) In 29 minutes of play, I had an Avg HR of 161, a Max HR of 179, and burned 331 calories in just 29 minutes. Admittedly, I don't think I could have kept up that pace for too long, but it sure shows what a good workout a game of squash is!
Walked home through St. James' Park with Doro to St. James' Tube station, using my iPhone the entire way to try and set up a squash game with someone else later in the week. Squash is just so much fun!
I'd been complaining to Doro about how fat I felt in my skirt on Saturday, so she agreed to play a pretty intense game. I was wearing my heart-rate monitor, and got some pretty impressive stats out of it (squash is an intense game!) In 29 minutes of play, I had an Avg HR of 161, a Max HR of 179, and burned 331 calories in just 29 minutes. Admittedly, I don't think I could have kept up that pace for too long, but it sure shows what a good workout a game of squash is!
Walked home through St. James' Park with Doro to St. James' Tube station, using my iPhone the entire way to try and set up a squash game with someone else later in the week. Squash is just so much fun!
Sunday, 6 February 2011
Not Much for a Sunday
Thankfully, although it could have been disastrous (given how much Hendrick's I'd consumed the night before), I woke up without any trace of a hangover, I think due to my clever strategy of guzzling water all night long - and the two McDonald's double-cheeseburgers I'd scarfed on my way home.
I got myself up and out to Body Pump in the morning, but couldn't manage to hang on for yoga, instead I went home and ate lunch, and then just hung out for the afternoon. I probably could have done a lot more productive things with my time, particularly as I was thankfully without a hangover! But instead I just did nothing...
In the evening, it was with a sinking feeling that I realised I had a message on Facebook from the chap who I hadn't wanted to get in touch, asking if I wanted to do dinner or drinks. I've packed my calendar as much as I possibly can, but alas there are still two days open in the next two weeks. So I guess if he's free then, I'll have to go. {Sigh!}
But I did get one last little delight when I heard my FB message noise, and clicked over with trepidation, thinking it was that chap. So imagine my delight when it turned out to be Gordon, checking in to say hello. He was writing to ask if I'd heard about an article the Super Social Scotsman had sent to be earlier, about a jilted banker caught in a bid to hire a hitman to murder a girl's father. Gordon asked me, "Have you heard about our first Inter-Club attempted murder?" Apparently she was from the RAC, he was from the Oriental, and most people knew them both (although Gordon said he'd de-friended the chap after the restraining order came through). What a mess... That poor girl is going to be scared of ever going out with men again!
I got myself up and out to Body Pump in the morning, but couldn't manage to hang on for yoga, instead I went home and ate lunch, and then just hung out for the afternoon. I probably could have done a lot more productive things with my time, particularly as I was thankfully without a hangover! But instead I just did nothing...
In the evening, it was with a sinking feeling that I realised I had a message on Facebook from the chap who I hadn't wanted to get in touch, asking if I wanted to do dinner or drinks. I've packed my calendar as much as I possibly can, but alas there are still two days open in the next two weeks. So I guess if he's free then, I'll have to go. {Sigh!}
But I did get one last little delight when I heard my FB message noise, and clicked over with trepidation, thinking it was that chap. So imagine my delight when it turned out to be Gordon, checking in to say hello. He was writing to ask if I'd heard about an article the Super Social Scotsman had sent to be earlier, about a jilted banker caught in a bid to hire a hitman to murder a girl's father. Gordon asked me, "Have you heard about our first Inter-Club attempted murder?" Apparently she was from the RAC, he was from the Oriental, and most people knew them both (although Gordon said he'd de-friended the chap after the restraining order came through). What a mess... That poor girl is going to be scared of ever going out with men again!
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Beer Pong Tournament
Saturday was the running club beer pong tournament, to be followed by everyone apparently going to a Chinese New Year party, where it was the Year of the Rabbit. Hence, in an effort to dress somewhat in costume for the later party, I wore a satin-style skirt with red designs (somewhat Chinese-like), and a white fuzzy sweater (somewhat rabbit like). It was only after I left the house and sat down on the Tube that I realised the skirt I was wearing rode up considerably, making it way too short and way too tight. Apparently I've gained a few pounds since I bought it, and hence spent the entire afternoon feeling super self-conscious about how I must look like I was stuffed into sausage casing. Didn't help when I arrived at the flat for the beer pong tourney to realise everyone else was wearing t-shirts and jeans, leaving their costumes for later. Particularly as the hosts requested we take our shoes off, that meant I was running around all afternoon in somewhat worn fishnets. Oh my gosh, what a fashion disaster! Felt quite self-conscious about how I looked all afternoon, sure that I was definitely showing off a few muffin-top fat rolls!
Still, the set-up of the game was quite impressive. They had four tables lined up, plastic over almost everything, and a giant league table set up displaying all of the tournament groups and progressions. I had been expecting something much more casual, yet these guys had obviously put quite a bit of effort into it!
I was paired with the Giant Australian for the tournament, since he had specifically requested to play with me. He arrived obviously freshly showered and shaved, and it was so obvious that we were in some sort of set-up that it was hugely awkward at first. I'm not proud to admit, I was eager for us both to get some beer into our systems to take the edge off, as I was feeling incredibly pudgy and awkward standing there!
Strangely we got into a discussion about proper high-fiving technique, where the Giant Australian was keen to share with everyone the advice that if you watch the other person's elbow, you're sure to hit the high-five on the mark. Kind of funny, because I already had learned that valuable lesson quite a few years back from my cousin. (It really works though, I never miss a high-five). I guess I'm one of the cool kids in the know...
So we got started playing, although in the first two games, I just couldn't seem to get any ping pong balls into the cups. It was hugely frustrating, particularly as we lost our first two games by just one beer. If only I'd managed to sink a few!
Yet in our third game (the last one we needed to play in our group, I finally seemed to hit my stride somewhat, and managed to sink a few, even leading to a roll-back (i.e. two throws in a row) after the Giant Australian managed to sink his on the same turn.
We finally got to the point where the opposing team had only one cup left, while we had four safely held in reserve on our side. Yet the Giant Australian and I had been pursuing a strategy we'd seen other teams use, where instead of dividing all of the beer equally, we'd been filling one cup almost entirely, while putting very little beer in the other cups. The idea being (hopefully) to leave the overly full glass for your opponents if you won the game and they had to drink your leavings.
Yet, just as we were playing, our opponents managed to get the ball into our overly full cup! The Giant Australian looked at me, and I just gave him a smile and said, "You're a better thrower than I am", and so downed the beer. Proved to be a smart choice, as on the very next throw, he sank the ping pong ball into their last cup, and won the game for us. He then crowed proudly to everyone about me, "That's what we call taking one for the team!"
Strangely, despite having lost 2 out of our 3 games, apparently we won our third game by such a convincing margin that it put us in the second-place spot to advance into the quarter-finals. We played a well-fought game (I even got a few more in!) but in the end we lost by just one cup. Yet I was grateful at that point, as I was getting so tipsy I doubt I could have had much more to drink!
Of course, perhaps I also lost that quarter-final game because at one point I felt something hit me and slide down the front of my shirt, only to realise that Pork Pie had managed to throw a Smartie candy right into my cleavage! I managed to dig it out, but it really had the whole room in uproarious laughter, and made me a bit self-conscious about the whole thing!
Also, I was grateful when the whole thing came to an end, because that meant that I no longer had to deal with the Giant Australian's hyper-competitiveness. When we were doing well he was great and so excited, but when we were losing he kept saying, "But I never lose!" and "I'm carrying you! You're terrible at this game!!" I wished he would just chill out, so I was grateful to send him off to be a "judge" of the final, and go talk to much more relaxed people on the sidelines.
I spent quite a bit of time talking to C Dogg, and then later when his girlfriend arrived, recognized her instantly and so went over to chat with her to make her feel included. Knowing how nervous she is about me, I also made sure to talk about how much C Dogg adores her and talks about her, as I want to reassure her that she has nothing to fear from me! (How funny though, I got a FB-friend request from her the very next day. Okay my dear, you can keep an eye on me if you like!)
Also, as though I wasn't feeling self-conscious enough about my outfit, this chap who I shall refer to as the Dumb American came over and said to me, "Nice skirt!" at one point, causing me to go red with embarrassment. I therefore felt a bit better when he was so stupid as to bet £50 on the final of the tournament, and of course lost it. Only idiots bet, but I somehow feel better when dumb idiots lose their money...
We got to the final of the tournament, and Roofie and his brother won the whole thing. Good on them! So everyone started to peel off to go to the other parties and events they were going to that evening.
Once the final winner had been declared, he was off to another party, and I was supposed to go to this Chinese New Year party (hence the awful outfit). So he said we should do drinks soon, and then kissed once on each cheek, and then kissed me good-bye on the lips. Nothing passionate, more what you see long-term couples do. Not exactly great for my self-confidence, which was still feeling a bit fat in my too-tight skirt. But it still left me left thinking, "Can I somehow sleep with you, without having to actually talk to you or be seen in public with you?" That would be nice if I could figure that one out somehow... Argh. I can not figure out if I like him or not.
Some things are really great (he's super-fit, and when he wraps an arm around me I can just settle against that broad chest and think, "This is nice") and then there are things I don't (his over-competitiveness and berating me for my poor throwing skills).
He suggested to me, "Why don't we go to one of those black-tie events at your club sometime?" And I do think he would look quite good in black-tie and would know how to behave himself, except that I can't imagine anything worse than having to take him to an Inter-Club event. Just too much explaining about who this guy was I was showing up with. I seriously cannot figure out how to make this one work!
I then went with everyone else to the Chinese New Year party and fended off the advances of the Dumb American who kept bringing me G&Ts with way too much G. Was very annoyed about that, and so eventually just decided to go home at 11 PM so I could scarf water. Plus, I was just bored at that point, as a distressing number of boys were either gay (not surprising, given that the host was) or not interested in pudgy me. Either way, not great for the self-confidence.
I left the party at around 11 PM, walking over Tower Bridge and chatting to a friend of mine on Skype as I went. (How I love the new iPhone!) I still somehow departed late enough that I had to go back to Hammersmith to catch the bus, and figured I would get two McDonald's double-cheeseburgers while I was there. (Not healthy, but good for soaking up alcohol!) Then got the brilliant idea to call my dad, and chatted with him my whole bus ride and walk home. I think my parents are always amused by my late-night calls! Made it home soon enough, wishing the evening might have ended differently, but glad to be safely home on my own...
Friday, 4 February 2011
Professor Gray is Back!
After work today was the first rugby game of the Six Nations schedule, the England vs Wales game. Many of the hashers had agreed to meet at a pub where we often watched the game, which happened to be right on the Overland train route. Once I realised this, dashed out of my house, just in time to make the train and make it to the game on time!
Alas, in my hurried rush, I had no time to stop at an ATM, and only as I made my way to the pub did I realise I had no cash on me whatsoever. When I exited the station, I looked around to see if I might find an ATM nearby, only to turn around and realise that there was one...behind the ticket barriers I had just come through. Blast!
Okay, so I had no cash on me, but perhaps I could buy drinks for others and use my credit card, right?
I arrived and was greeted by Matt (one of my favourite people), who told me as he bought me a Guinness the exciting news that his girlfriend's father was shortly going to be joining us!
I'm sure this will sound totally random, but the last time Matt's girlfriend's father came to town (for Matt's 30th birthday), I actually had the best time talking to this guy. He's a professor at Penn State, just really smart and interesting, a fascinating person to talk to. So I was definitely excited to see Professor Gray again!
After a bit, Matt's girlfriend arrived with her father, and after all required hellos were exchanged, I was then all to happy to get into conversation with Professor Gray. (I was rather tickled to learn from Matt's girlfriend later that her father had been looking forward to seeing me as much as I had been to seeing him!)
So in the midst of rugby, we were talking about whether Hank Paulsen let Lehman Brothers collapse due to a personal vendetta against Dick Fuld. I of course was talking from my knowledge from reading Andrew Ross Sorkin's "Too Big To Fail" (which I never actually finished reading). It was only after a bit that he let it slip he used to be a managing director of Lehman Brothers and so knew all of the players personally. Indeed, he hadn't come with his wife because she was currently back in the US interviewing Obama. I sometimes forget in my enthusiasm for chatting with this guy, that I'm a bit out of my depth! I read the books, this guy lives it...
The game was also a great show, as England won, and Johnny Wilkinson came out to play with 16 minutes left in the game. His hair looked a bit long, but he still made his kicks and it was just great to see dear old Johnny, still managing to bring the magic after all of this time. How I miss seeing Johnny play!
It should also be mentioned that this entire time, Matt refused to let me buy him a drink in return (he claimed he didn't want to drink too much "while the boss is in town"), and Professor Gray kept making sure I had another drink in my hand as soon as my previous one got low. Forget about going out with no cash, I was managing to get quite tipsy without spending a dime!
Finally the game was over, the screen rolled up, and most of the crowds decided to head out. I must admit, the DJ was playing quite loudly, but my entreaties (and those of others) to get him to turn down the noise a bit went unheeded. After five of us had all gone up to the DJ to ask him to turn it down (and we'd seen others do the same), we pretty much decided to give up and head home.
Unfortunately at this point I still had nearly a full pint of Guinness left to drink (damn my pattern of being a slow drinker!) so I couldn't exactly leave with everyone else. Hence I ended up hanging around talking to the few folks left, and ended the evening chatting to a guy who struck me as a good-looking but probably thick rugby type. Giving that I didn't care much at this point, when he asked how I came to London, I just answered honestly that I had studied at Oxford. You can imagine my surprise when instead of being intimidated, it turned out that he'd been at New College, Oxford and had been working in Hong Kong for a while. Perhaps not just another good-looking dumb rugby type after all! I sort of wonder if I should have given that conversation more consideration, but I was tired and they'd turned up the music in this place too loud, so I begged off and went home. Too bad, he seemed like a nice guy, but I just wasn't up for it!
Alas, in my hurried rush, I had no time to stop at an ATM, and only as I made my way to the pub did I realise I had no cash on me whatsoever. When I exited the station, I looked around to see if I might find an ATM nearby, only to turn around and realise that there was one...behind the ticket barriers I had just come through. Blast!
Okay, so I had no cash on me, but perhaps I could buy drinks for others and use my credit card, right?
I arrived and was greeted by Matt (one of my favourite people), who told me as he bought me a Guinness the exciting news that his girlfriend's father was shortly going to be joining us!
I'm sure this will sound totally random, but the last time Matt's girlfriend's father came to town (for Matt's 30th birthday), I actually had the best time talking to this guy. He's a professor at Penn State, just really smart and interesting, a fascinating person to talk to. So I was definitely excited to see Professor Gray again!
After a bit, Matt's girlfriend arrived with her father, and after all required hellos were exchanged, I was then all to happy to get into conversation with Professor Gray. (I was rather tickled to learn from Matt's girlfriend later that her father had been looking forward to seeing me as much as I had been to seeing him!)
So in the midst of rugby, we were talking about whether Hank Paulsen let Lehman Brothers collapse due to a personal vendetta against Dick Fuld. I of course was talking from my knowledge from reading Andrew Ross Sorkin's "Too Big To Fail" (which I never actually finished reading). It was only after a bit that he let it slip he used to be a managing director of Lehman Brothers and so knew all of the players personally. Indeed, he hadn't come with his wife because she was currently back in the US interviewing Obama. I sometimes forget in my enthusiasm for chatting with this guy, that I'm a bit out of my depth! I read the books, this guy lives it...
The game was also a great show, as England won, and Johnny Wilkinson came out to play with 16 minutes left in the game. His hair looked a bit long, but he still made his kicks and it was just great to see dear old Johnny, still managing to bring the magic after all of this time. How I miss seeing Johnny play!
It should also be mentioned that this entire time, Matt refused to let me buy him a drink in return (he claimed he didn't want to drink too much "while the boss is in town"), and Professor Gray kept making sure I had another drink in my hand as soon as my previous one got low. Forget about going out with no cash, I was managing to get quite tipsy without spending a dime!
Finally the game was over, the screen rolled up, and most of the crowds decided to head out. I must admit, the DJ was playing quite loudly, but my entreaties (and those of others) to get him to turn down the noise a bit went unheeded. After five of us had all gone up to the DJ to ask him to turn it down (and we'd seen others do the same), we pretty much decided to give up and head home.
Unfortunately at this point I still had nearly a full pint of Guinness left to drink (damn my pattern of being a slow drinker!) so I couldn't exactly leave with everyone else. Hence I ended up hanging around talking to the few folks left, and ended the evening chatting to a guy who struck me as a good-looking but probably thick rugby type. Giving that I didn't care much at this point, when he asked how I came to London, I just answered honestly that I had studied at Oxford. You can imagine my surprise when instead of being intimidated, it turned out that he'd been at New College, Oxford and had been working in Hong Kong for a while. Perhaps not just another good-looking dumb rugby type after all! I sort of wonder if I should have given that conversation more consideration, but I was tired and they'd turned up the music in this place too loud, so I begged off and went home. Too bad, he seemed like a nice guy, but I just wasn't up for it!
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