Weakness for After Work Cocktails

There is a definite shift in the air chaps.  This "brain switched to off" malarkey has come up trumps.  For the last week I've made a conscious decision to focus on all the good things in my life, of which I am pleased to say there are plenty.  And, in the way a compulsive list maker does, here are some of the said wonderful things that make me realise what a lucky, lucky girl I really am.

1. I have a gorgeous, healthy family.
2. I have some of the best friends a girl could wish for.
3. I have a job I enjoy, for a firm that I love, and with colleagues I care about.
4. I am financially secure (at least, as much as anyone with a compulsive shoe habit and a weakness for after work cocktails in London will ever be).
5. I have known true and passionate love.
6. I know that come what may I am the mistress of my own destiny.  If I'm miserable, its because I am putting my focus in the wrong places.  If I am happy its because I am accepting of myself, my flaws and my failings and allowing myself to just be.
7. I have lovely shoes.
8. I can see light at the end of the tunnel.

On top of that I have been putting a little more energy into the online dating effort.  Probably not as much as I should, and I'm still feeling pretty half hearted about it if I'm honest, but I'm doing my best to be positive and open to possibilities, and there's some fun banter going on.  And I have now agreed to meet the sexy Spaniard later this week, which I suppose is a step in the right direction... I'll keep you posted.

EB xx 

Shimmying the night away

Well, I'm sort of feeling a bit better.  Why?  Because I've decided to give my brain the month off.  For one month I am not going to think of the bad stuff, I'm not going to talk about the bad stuff, I'm not even going to acknowledge that bad stuff exists.

Instead, I'm swapping the bad stuff for some very, very good stuff.  I'm planning a few selfish and solitary trips away (spa days, country hotels etc) I have my mini break lined up with SJ, Morrocco and Cougar and between now and then I'm going to live the life a cosmopolitan single girl should live.  It is going to involve cocktails, dates, dinners and hopefully a bit of shimmying the night away.  There will also be evenings in with my Revenge boxed set, perhaps a glass or two of red wine and a whole lot of R&R. 

Of course, there's the huge potential that this cunning plan will go tits up - it must be said that I do have the propensity to make a decision and then minutes later do a complete volte-face leaving the unsuspecting bystander feeling dizzy.  It might be that come Saturday I am back on the sofa with the blanket bemoaning the fact that I've made an absolute arse of myself...

Only time will tell.

A heavy heart and a slightly shaky hand

So reluctantly, I'm back on the online thing.  In a vain attempt to be optimistic I decided to actually respond to some of the messages that have been sitting, untouched and unread, in my inbox for weeks.  Hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

So first up, there are a few random messages, clearly mass produced for the newbies.

No thanks.  Delete.

Three  further messages follow, from perfectly nice sounding guys, but nothing to really make me want to reach out and explore.  So, with heavy heart and a slightly shaky hand, I send what can only be described as a bland and half hearted reply to each, more to be polite than anything.  To my surprise, two of the three write back.  Sensibly, the third appears to have decided to cut his losses.  Can't say I blame him.  Of the two respondees, I send them both further replies, this time with a little more humour, but saying terribly sorry, not sure this is for me right now.  One polite response back, wishing me luck in my life.  How very civilised.

And then there is J.   Seems nice, interesting, witty, of Spanish descent.  Good looking, one little girl and he doesn't want more children.  The right age backet.  Own teeth.  Lives reasonably close by, happy to do his share of travelling to meet up.  We exchange a few emails, so far so good.  He suggests meeting up in this weekend.

My head says "What are you waiting for?" 

My heart says, "Meh".

Think I'll stay home with a bottle of red and a blanket.

No one likes a mardy arse

Well after yesterday's desperately maudlin post, I thought I ought to come back and confirm that I have not thrown myself under a speeding train, nor have I contemplated cutting out what remains of my trampled and confused heart and serving it up in a sandwich to the offending party.

Instead, I am trying to look to the future with a positive attitude.

What have I learned?

(1) Stay true to yourself, your views and your values.
(2) Sometimes life doesn't go as you planned, get over it.
(3) Anyone can love when the sun is shining. Its during the storms you learn who is really there for you.
(4) Be smart enough to hold on, but also wise enough to know when to let go.
(5) There will always be the ones that love, and the ones that allow themselves to be loved.  Don't fall for the latter.
(6) No man is worth your tears, and the man who is won't make you cry.
(7) Cookie dough ice cream is the answer.

So, time to get back up Ellesbelles.  Apply the lippy, slip on the heels, and get that ass back on out there.  Nothing else for it, really.  No one likes a mardy arse.

EB xx

The Same Old Lies

Why are women so stupid?  We fall for the same old lies time and time again.  We see others in the same situation, and we think "that won't happen to me".  We convince ourselves that if we love hard enough it will be OK.  We are willing to put in enough effort for both of us.  We know, deep deep down, when something is not right, but we try, oh how we try, to bury the seed of doubt because if we close our eyes to it it's not happening.  But it is happening.

Why?  Why do we do that?  Why do we continue to love people that don't deserve us? 

We ignore the warning cries of our friends.  We ignore the warning cries of our hearts.  And then our hearts get broken and frankly, we only have ourselves to blame.

Enthusiastically ambidextrous...

My my, there's some weird shit in my head these days, so much so I've failed to string a coherent sentence together in this mini blogette for weeks.  Apologies.  I will attempt to remedy now.

Firstly, Morocco has written me a dating profile which has opened up a whole new category of oddballs and weirdos (I'd like to think it was nothing about my profile - nor my indeed my picture - per se that attracted them, but rather that the oddballs and weirdos are generic lurkers who target any "fresh meat" to the site).  One such oddball described himself in his first email to me as "enthusiastically ambidextrous, with a penchant for the quirky and the unknown".  Have to confess, I quite like the sound of that, although if it's unknown I'm not sure I'd have a penchant to like it without knowing what it is, which renders the unknown element defunct and futile.

However, there has also been a raft (OK, perhaps not a raft, instead its more of a "lilo") of somewhat more appropriate prospective candidates which I intend to work my way through (pardon the expression) in due course.  I am a little fearful they are simply after my highly praised (by Morocco) Eggs Benedict, and quite frankly, who can blame them.   But hey, a girl has to take a compliment from wherever it comes. 

But I digress.

I write today because of late I have been studying my friends' relationships.  Intensely scrutinising them, if you will.  And I have to say, whilst I have in the past run from the shackles of love, marriage and commitment (and who can blame me after my one and only attempt at Til Death Us Do Part) I am now looking longingly at my married friends wishing I was in their number.  With my own partner, of course, not as a threesome.

Take SJ.  Gorgeous broad, with an equally gorgeous hubby.  Together since they were kids, they seem to have managed the perfect balance of fun and commitment, together time and individual pursuits that I think we probably all strive for, deep down.  Last year, a few of us girls went away for a nice, chilled out hols at SJ's place, at the end of which SJ's hubster came out to spend the next week with SJ whilst the rest of us returned to dreary Britain.  Upon arriving at the house, SJ quite literally jumped into his arms, wrapping her shapely legs around his waist and gave him a welcome Christan Grey would delight of, were it delivered by the irritating, lip biting, eye rolling, virginal yet insatiable nymphomaniac Anastasia Steele.   It was heart warming, and I've gently teased her about it ever since. Really though, despite the soft mockery, it was so great to see a couple so in love after being together for more than two decades.

Another of our number on that holiday was our lovely Northern Lass.  Now her and her hubby, if I have this right, were childhood sweethearts that went their separate ways, and got back together later in life following marriages to other people, and are now deliriously happy and in love like a couple of lovestruck kids.  NL talks about her "Chucky"  the way I used to talk about Andrew Ridgely before I realised that in fact George was the one with the talent. 

And one by one, all my friends are hooking up.  I've got friends getting back with their exes (yes you, Morocco - leaving me alone in the big bad dating world!), neighbours moving in together, even new found drinking buddy Cougar has found herself a hotty for a bit of ooh la la (OK, who wouldnt, given the chance?).

And so now, as just about the only singleton left on the block, I'm being a little more diligent in my efforts.   I've shaved my legs twice this month and I even had a brazilian wax on Saturday... now THAT'S what you call Positive Mental Attitude - although not entirely sure that's what Rhonda Byrne intended when writing The Secret...

So far my PMA has bagged me a couple of dates - one with the lovely Mr 29 (the man has been "wooing" me for a year - and despite being single now for 5 months we've only been out three times!), and one with a chap who quickly turned out to be potential best friend material but nothing more.  However, last week I found myself in the privileged position of having to juggle enthusiastic texting from the previously aforementioned complicated JC, the lovely MB and a chap I used to date years upon years ago.  OK, none of these are suitable for the long road, and none have seen (or will be seeing) my topiarial efforts but with dinners and drinks in abundance it's not all bad in the world of EB...

Ellesbelles xx

A Bowl of Mixed Olives and a Vodka Tonic

So what do you do when you go on a date with someone, and you're not sure if it really is a date?  How do you know whether someone is actually into you, as opposed to someone who actually quite likes you/your company, and thinks drinks/dinner might be nice?

This happened to me last night. 

About a year ago (when I was still with MB) an old friend (well, acquintance is probably more apt) made a reappearance into my life.  I'll call him Mr 29.  It was a "one night only" kind of thing, and although I stayed over at his hotel with him (once again, I'd missed the train and his hotel was just 5 mins from my work - made total sense at the time) of course nothing happened as we were both in other relationships.  We had spent a good part of the night dancing, laughing, drinking etc, and the rest of the night talking about our respective lives and how his wife didn't understand him and how dissatisfied I was with my relationship with MB but didn't know if, when or how to end it.  We ended the night with a lingering look and a promise to keep in touch.

Anyway.  Fast forward to next day, I feel entirely guilty, despite not having done anything to warrant that awful, sick, gut wrenching feeling and I put him out of my mind.   We exchanged a few non-descript texts, and that was that.

Over the coming months he made a few attempts to sort out a date when we could get together, and depending on just how things were with MB at the time I either said yes and then subsequently cancelled, or I said no and regretted it.  Either way, other than one long lunch and a few occasions where we've met up in the company of others, nothing further came of it.

Until last night.

A few months ago he started texting again, this time joking that he wouldn't take no for an answer.  I pointed out that whilst I was now single, I don't date married men (as I believe I've made pretty clear already!).  Turns out that he and his wife have been separated for a year.  As a free agent, I therefore decided to take him up on it and we met for drinks last night. 

He was extremely good company:  amusing, witty, bright.  He was interested in me and mine, and forthcoming about his own life.  He complimented my shoes.  So far so good.  

When it was time to leave, he kissed me chastely on the cheek and gave the usual "we must do this again sometime".  He did go slightly further in suggesting that as he is (in his words) a reasonable cook, he would like to make dinner for me one evening.   However, I can't shake the feeling that this may have simply been old friends catching up.  Whilst that in itself is fine, I don't really want or need anymore friends (with or without benefits), and I don't like ambiguity.  I'm certainly in no rush to jump in and have the whole "where do you see this relationship going" conversation after just a few hours, a bowl of mixed olives and a vodka tonic, but equally, a control freak such as moi does like to know which way is up. 

So here is how my little head is currently processing things:

He loves me                                                                        

Has been pursuing me (on and off) for a year, even though I've been flaky
Tactile - lots of arm and knee touching
He'd read my profile on my firm's website (and complimented me on the truly hideous pic)
As he kissed me good night he took my hand and held it longer than necessary
Offered to cook for me
Complimented my outfit
Sent sweet text at bedtime

He loves me not

Hadn't told me he was separated
There have been weeks, if not months, between communications
No fixed date to meet again

So you see, dear readers, why I'm confused.

In the meantime, the other two dates I had lined up for this week have been kicked to the curb for the moment - the first because our diaries were proving just to difficult to pair up and the other as I had forgotten I'd double booked myself.  We're now planning to get together next week for an evening of "outdoor adventure".   The mind boggles.  Mr 29 had better show his hand soon, methinks...