Can it be Easter already?

There is a moment in every relationship where you choose to pay all your attention to one person. You stare at them, weigh up your options and think- really? You? Hmmm- ok. Because as much as I'd love to be more romantic practicality is key when cutting other options and committing your eggs to one scramble.

The problem I'm currently tossing is I get the feeling The English Gentleman isn't seeing 6 other people. And as chuffed as I am to say that he's currently topping my charts...I'm a bit crap at the whole dumping saga. Always have been. I tend to be a fan of ignore at all costs- which only very rarely backfires...in view of this and keeping in mind that The Gentleman hasn't exactly asked me to 'go steady' I think I'm having a flash of conscience and am going to have to start to cull the herd out of respect.

The Arms Dealer announced he's flying back to London tonight and wants to have a drink- how nice, but I suggest you alert the staff at Heathrow rather than me. I was rather sharp in my reply- 'sorry I've started seeing someone else, safe flight'. Harsh but fair. And in my defence, that was over eons ago!

Monster Mashed will understandably be distraught- last time he cooked me dinner I noticed a black hair pin in his apartment...killer giveaway- my hair pins are beige and his hair isn't long enough for a cut let alone a pin. If him keeping the first series of The Wire is the cost of jumping ship on that, frankly it's a small price to pay- it only reminds me that HMV Poacher/Stalker exists anyway! (Quick note: He hasn't called ALL DAY! It's a first! Perhaps he's trying at playing hard to get!)

The American and The King of Spades have both left the country which makes that a cinch.

But its Suit and Tie that is going to be rough...I think I'm going to have to suck up all my courage and play the bad guy here. Crap. I really do love an easy way out...

And that thought makes me wonder how much of the cull is healthy, how much is indulgent and how much is a little premature...am I jumping the gun to get rid of my back-up men? I've never been a fan of this 'all eggs, one basket' tactic and my last serious love (Mr. Big) literally badgered me to fly tandem before I would let go of my posse.

And logistically if I do this, do I ask? "Hey, FYI thought I'd call to let you know I've dumped all your competition". Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. And at that point will I be surreptitiously admitting that I was seeing other people all along?  Do I wait and see if he asks? Will he ask? Especially if he's been flying solo since meeting me...oh lord- when did choosing just one get so complicated...this is exactly why I keep 8 in the loop! Pass me a new set of baskets I think I need to divy my eggs up again.

Beep-beep-beeeeeep...paging the perfectly fine girl over her ex...

When Suit and Tie suggested a 'call' last night I thought it would be tough. Turns out he had a 'great idea' and wanted to know if I was free Saturday. I lied. Told him it's my best friend's birthday. Side note: Is anyone having a birthday Saturday? Someone with an opening for a best friend? He made me say yes to a date on Friday instead. So perhaps if that best friend interview could happen on Friday? I'll buy the cocktails?
 
The Boxer is emailing from America to ask 'how much I miss him' - would it be too callous to reply 'who are you again?'...
 
Meanwhile...my crush on The English Gentleman from the weekend appears to be gathering strength. It's bad. In the season of the flu I think I've caught something less contagious but potentially more serious. What will this mean for all the others? And more importantly, what will it mean for my blog? I may have to get out on blogging principle. I can't have just started to document my search for the Prince Charming and then find him...it doesn't work like that. 
 
And yet the funny thing about getting a new crush is that other contenders can sense it. It's that mandatory 'man-pager' they all get during their first break- up, aged 14. Some keep it in a draw and some keep it in their draws but we all know it - they've all got one! It's the pager that stays silent all the time you dream about them, long for them to call, will them to think about you (or at least sob silently as they flip through old photos of you together)...and then BOOM...beep beep beep beeeeeeeeeeep - she's happy...she's excited about someone else...time turn up again....beeeeeeeeeeep.
 
At this point you've obviously rediscovered who you were before he made a mess of you, lost those 5 lbs you gained from all the 3 course dinners, extinguished the love candle, downed copious cocktails in an attempt to develop ex-amnesia, thrown away gifts...obviously keeping all Cartier, designer bags and immaculate clothing items. You've finally been able to return to your favourite sushi restaurant...where they still remember you and have the decorum not to ask where your male dining partner has disappeared to. And more importantly you've just met a guy who doesn't remind you of all the things your ex used to do right, do wrong - or just generally do and so remind you that he exists at all.
 
And then it starts - every guy you've been serious (or not) with will now start calling - it's inevitable...they'll call, sms, email, sky write, stalk you on the street - they'll send flowers, they'll ask after you through friends or they'll put a tombstone ad in the Financial Times. This uncanny timing is the concrete, indisputable evidence of the existence of the man-pager and frankly even though I realise that they must be a huge revenue generator for telecom providers, they need to be discontinued. Permanently.
 
These crappy pagers only get us into trouble.

A friend with whom I shared tapas with last night was telling me that her ex's pager had been going off recently. Then he saw her looking as gorgeous as ever, and clearly not crazy anymore - a couple of months apart does wonders for your skin and your spirit! Anyway seeing her sparkle the way she did when he first met her, he decided to try again. And what did she do? Not only did she neglect to grab his pager and his pride, and fling it as far across the bar as humanly possible. Instead she smiled her cutest smile, proceeded to fall for him all over again, take him home and bonk him. Not the smartest move ever.

What makes highly intelligent, beautiful, generally together women go crazy for a guy who has her number plugged into his emotional pager? I've come to the conclusion it has got to be the fear of failure. I'm guilty of it - feeling that I failed in a relationship and then trying to 'give it another go' as though it was a soufflé which never rose.

The more the pagers of the past seem to be going off - the more I have to resign myself to the fact that they now have the wrong number - and I have a new crush. And frankly I know which call I'd rather pick up and it doesn't involve trying to rescue flat desserts.

Oh I'm sorry! Wasn't I speaking English?

HMV Poacher really must be desperate. After a cheeky brunch with one of my best girls on Saturday I got a few more calls and a text saying - 'u dont reply? Wen you round 2meet?' Before she and I parted we penned the ultimate response. 'Its not rocket science - no reply=I'm not around'. Call me old fashioned but I'm not 12 nor am I a gangster, you need to write WHOLE WORDS! How hard is it to actually write what you want to say as opposed to whacking out the shortest version humanly possible? How is that endearing? How about...f off! i h8t it wen you msg in genrl! Actually - now I get it - he doesn't understand me! I'm speaking a language he doesn't get! English. Whole words must be beyond him.
 
Friday night's movie marathon never happened - I did have a feeling it would get cut from the reel. I've got to admit, I'm not really sure what diplomats do exactly - but it does mean he can legitimately bail at the last minute. Apparently. What bugs me is the fact he calls me 'darling' when he apologizes which infuriates me no end.
 
I was meant to play golf with Suit and Tie on Saturday but he went out and got trashed on Friday. Typical - I called on Friday to can him and then he sends me a message cancelling Saturday morning...huh? You can't cancel the date AFTER I've already cancelled. Doesn't work buddy. And now he want's to 'call me tonight'...uh oh...sounds serious...
 
In any event after a much needed calming yoga class on Saturday afternoon I went for a casual drink with my best friend and her other half who is in fact a close friend of Ra Ra Army boy (not featured in a long while since he's off crawling through mud).  He brought a friend who literally had me in hysterics all night. He's sweet and darling, hilarious, intelligent and hot! How does this work? He doesn't even seem to be damaged by an ex nor does he have 11 fingers (I checked). We hung out all Sunday as well - and still no blaring faults, other than he admitted he really liked me, which was more 'charming and honest' than 'desperate and scary'. Although - it's definitely too early to tell...he could have 11 toes, call me darling or worse send text messaged like a 12 year old.
 
OMG: HMV Poacher just called again! What is wrong with this guy!?! Kill me now!

What are the odds?

3 more ignored calls from HMV Poacher. That puts him on 13 to none. Give up dude I'm not answering.
 
The Boxer has left the country. Thank god, now I can go back to class. That was a clean way out.
 
The King of Spades was as charming as ever at dinner - we're having a movie marathon tonight. 100 to 1 nothing will eventuate. As always.

You spin me right round, baby, right round, like a record baby - or not.

3 days, 6 missed calls, 2 drink invites and a voicemail later the HMV poacher just doesn't give up. Fortunately - I do, and did; the minute his front door swung shut behind me and I bolted. You can learn a lot from your desire to run or even your desire to 'turn' and do the 'look back'.
 
You know when you say goodbye to someone after a date - and you walk those first 5 steps, then...do you turn? Yes? Or are you already on step 25 thinking of your next hair appointment / date / political candidate choice / art purchase / new guinea pig's name? You would think that it is a clear index of desire but in truth it's a little more complicated and is rooted in the motivations behind the movement. Are you turning to see if... 1. he's still standing there, 2. he's turned to look back at you 3. he's already on his cell phone 4. to say goodbye just once more or 5. just cause you haven't seen enough of him. Is it a Curiosity turn - not to be mistaken for the real thing; The Butterfly Effect turn - the best type where your stomach does the all important drop or perhaps the Ambi turn which is a strange mixture of both.
 
I used to have a rule that said never to 'look back', prove your strong and can live without him but then you realise its those fleeting moments that are caught in your memory forever and even when it's all over it's just the thought of The Butterfly Effect turn that drags you out of bed, makes you wash your hair and take a chance on your cab fare:man ratio.
 
Dinner with The King of Spades tonight - we're hitting an Italian place that got a rave from The Times, lord knows what I'm expecting - from him that is. I'm expecting amazing things from the restaurant. I'd be more shocked if The Times let me down than a guy!

The Circle of Life

The King of Spades is in town...but will this time get us any further than it ever does?
 
If life is a never ending circle (I'm happy to go with Elton and Disney on this one), then how do you know when your starting another lap all over again? And is it horrid that I don't even mind that I'm not 'learning' anything each time around.
 
I've always loved roller coasters, but it would be nice to get off the loop before nausea sets in and perhaps, just perhaps I might be too old to ride. Will it take me throwing up my popcorn and cotton candy before I realise that I need to let the rollercoaster leave without me?

IN is OUT and OUT is IN!

There are very few ways to describe last night without coming across as anything other than naive. So I'll just tell it how it went, you can judge me (lord knows I've been judging myself for the last 12 hours), I'll feel cleansed and we can all move on.

So last night I haul myself home after a wonderful, indulgent massage with enough time to wash my hair swipe on some mascara and hit drinks with the HMV Poacher. I get a text message en-route - if your going to be late call me. Responded with, no, 5 mins away (hence on time). I arrive, I wait. Then I get a call - 'my phone's died so I've had to come home to charge it, I only live 3 streets away, swing by here'. Fine, you should have told me while I was in the f'ing cab but whatever. 8 blocks later I get there. He's bare foot in shorts and a shirt with clearly no intention of going anywhere at all and his phone is laying, fully charged on the kitchen bench. Some guys just aren't worth the cab fare.

He's reeling off the compliments and is actually quite nice and funny - but the giant apartment, the funny stories and the good looks couldn't hide the sheer crassness of the whole situation. If you invite me OUT, I expect you to take me OUT. Not complicated. At all. If you had invited me IN - I would have stayed IN, at my house! If your going to false advertise please do it in place I expect to see it: Bars, clubs, the trading floor, the board room, the 19th hole, post rugby match gatherings and male swim wear competitions. Other than that I expect you (men) to be exactly what your renowned for - simple and straight forward. If your going to get all complicated on me - we're going to have re-evaluate our positions and I'll need to start to look at the details of lesbianism more closely.

So I take matters into my own hands with an 'Are you ready to go?' comment to which he comes out with - 'Its Monday night, there's nothing to do'...Well why did you bother cutting into my time then?!? I could have stayed at the club for a facial and perhaps even gotten high at the oxygen bar! In fact, I KNOW it's a Monday but I can still think of a hundred things I'd rather do, and about a million other people I'd rather do them with!

In the end I bailed, I was like 'Look I'm going home, this isn't what I was expecting, or wanted and your clearly not either. Sorry'. His final words were, 'I'll call you, maybe we can go clubbing on the weekend?' - You know what, don't bother. I wasted one night on this guy - I'm not a lady of leisure with nights to just throw away by staying IN! 3 missed phone calls already and counting.

But on a more serious note if the ultimate compliment I can give a guy is to skip getting high on oxygen and turn up with silky locks. Then, to think, I actually bothered to wash my hair for this guy! And if he wasn't worth the cab fare he certainly wasn't worth the shampoo!